Sthelany's smile became even more vague; Destian's sneer was almost audible.
Singhalissa gripped the arms of her chair with long fingers, so tightly that bones shone luminous through the skin. Singhalissa replied: "Needless to say, we all must adapt to changing circumstances; it is sheer futility to do otherwise.
I have conferred long and earnestly with the Noble Destian and the Lissolet Sthelany; we all are perplexed by your misfortunes. You have been a victim of unconventional violence2, which I understand is not uncommon at Port Mar."
Singhalissa's flick of a glance toward Lorcas was almost too swift to be sensed.
"You were doubtless waylaid by some off-worlder, for reasons beyond my comprehension."
Efraim grimly shook his head. "This theory commands low probability, especially in view of certain other facts. I was almost certainly beset by a Rhune enemy, for whom our standards of decency have lost all meaning."
Singhalissa's high sweet voice became a trifle strident. "We cannot evaluate undisclosed facts, but in any event your enemy is unknown to us. I only wonder if, after all, there has not been a mistake."
For the first time Lorcas spoke. "To clarify matters once and for all, are you giving His Force to understand that in the first place, none of you have knowledge of the event at Port Mar, and secondly, that none of you have received information regarding this event, and thirdly, that none of you can guess who might be responsible?"
No one answered. Efraim said gently: "The Noble Matho Lorcas is my friend and counselor; his question is a fair one. What of you, Squire Destian?"
Destian responded in a surly baritone: "I know nothing."
"Lissolet Sthelany?"
"I know nothing of anything."
"Your Dignity the Wirwove?"
"The affair is incomprehensible."
Through the mesh at the back of Efraim's chair sounded Agnois' hoarse whisper.
"It would be politic to ask Singhalissa if she might care to refresh herself and the company with a medley of vapors."
Efraim said: "I naturally accept your explicit assurances. If anyone chances to recall some forgotten fact which may be relevant, I will be grateful to hear it.
Perhaps we should now entreat Her Dignity to refresh us with vapors."
Singhalissa leaned stiffly forward and drew out a panel in front of her, displaying knobs, toggles, bulbs and other mechanisms, then drawers to right and left containing hundreds of small vials. Her long fingers worked with intricacy and deftness, vials were lifted; drops of liquid poured into a silver orifice were followed by powders and a gout of seething green liquor. Then she pushed a button and a pump blew the fumes along tubes under the table and up behind the etiquette screens. Meanwhile, with her left hand, Singhalissa was altering her first vapor so that it might modulate into a second which she was busy preparing with her right hand.
The fumes followed each other like musical tones, and ended, as with a coda, upon an artfully bitter nose-wrenching whiff.
Agnois' whisper sounded in Efraim's ear. "Call for more; this is etiquette!"
Efraim said: "Your Dignity has only stimulated our expectations; why must you stop now?"
"I am flattered that you honor my efforts," But Singhalissa sat back from the vials.
After a pause Destian spoke, a saturnine half-smile trembling on his lips. "I am curious to learn as to how you intend to punish Gosso arid his jackals."
"I will take counsel upon the matter."
Singhalissa, as if impelled by an irresistible creative urge, once more bent over the vials; again she poured and vapors issued from behind the etiquette screens. In Efraim's ear sounded Agnois' husky whisper: "She is discharging raw essences at random, concocting a set of stinks. She understands your distrait condition and hopes to draw forth fulsome compliments."
Efraim leaned back from the etiquette screen. He glanced at Destian who could scarcely control his merriment. Sthelany sat with a wry expression. Efraim said:
"Her Dignity the Wirwove suddenly seems to have lost her sure instincts. Some of these vapors are absolutely amazing, even for the entertainment of a group as informal as this. Perhaps Her Dignity attempts a set of new combinations imported from Port Mar?"
Singhalissa wordlessly desisted from her manipulations. Efraim sat erect in his chair. "The subject we had not yet touched upon was my order to move Your Dignity to Minot Tower. In view of the chairs and the fumes, I will not reconsider my decision. There has been altogether too much interference and meddling. I hope that we have seen the last of it, inasmuch as I would not care to inconvenience Your Dignity to an even greater extent."
"Your Force is most considerate," said Singhalissa, without so much as a quiver in her voice.
Through the tall windows the light had changed, as umber fully gave way to green rowan, with Cirse barely grazing the horizons.
Sthelany said; "Mirk approaches; dark hideous mirk when the gharks and hoos come forth and all the world is dead."
Lorcas asked in a cheerful voice: "What is a ghark and what is a hoo?"
"Evil beings."
"In human form?"
"I know nothing of such things," said Sthelany. "I take refuge behind a door triple-bolted and strong iron shutters at my window. You must ask elsewhere for your information."
Matho Lorcas gave his head a shake of whimsical wonder. "I have traveled far and wide," he said, "and never cease to be amazed by the diversities of Alastor Cluster."
The Lissolet Sthelany half-yawned, then spoke in easy voice: "Does the Noble Lorcas include the Rhunes among those peoples who excite his amazement?"
Lorcas grinned and leaned forward. Here was the milieu he loved: conversation!
Supple sentences, with first and second meanings and overtones beyond, outrageous challenges with cleverly planned slip-points, rebuttals of elegant brevity; deceptions and guiles, patient explanations of the obvious, fleeting allusions to the unthinkable. As a preliminary, the conversationalist must gauge the mood, the intelligence, and the verbal facility of the company. To this end a few words of pedantic exposition often proved invaluable. "By an axiom of cultural anthropology, the more isolated a community, the more idiosyncratic become its customs and conventions. This of course is not necessarily disadvantageous.
"On the other hand, consider a person such as myself: a rootless wanderer, a cosmopolitan. Such a person tends to flexibility; he adapts himself to his surroundings without qualms or misgivings. His baggage of conventions is simple and natural, the lowest common denominator of his experience. He evinces a kind of universal culture which will serve him almost anywhere across Alastor Cluster, throughout the Gaean Reach. I make no virtue of this flexibility, except to suggest that it is more comfortable to travel with than a set of conventions, which, if jostled, work emotional strains upon those who espouse them."
Singhalissa joined the conversation, speaking in a voice as dry as the rustle of dead leaves. "The Noble Lorcas with earnest conviction proposes a view which I fear we Rhunes regard as banal. As he knows, we never travel, except rarely to Port Mar. Even were we disposed to travel, I doubt if we would school ourselves inhabits which we find not only vulgar but repellent. This is an informal gathering; I will venture upon an unpleasant topic. The ordinary citizen of the Cluster shows a lack of self-consciousness regarding his bowel which is typically animal. Without shame he displays his victual, salivates, wads it into his orifice, grinds it with his teeth, massages it with his tongue, impels the pulp along his intestinal tract. With only little more modesty he excretes the digested mess, occasionally making jokes as if he were proud of his alimentary facility. Naturally we obey the same biological compulsions, but we are more considerate of our fellows and perform these acts in privacy." As she spoke Singhalissa never abandoned her mordant monotone.