"Quite possibly," said Reith. "So now..."
Woudiver seemed in no hurry to have them go. He settled into a chair with an unctuous grunt. "Another dear friend deals in gems. He will efficiently convert your treasure into sequins, if the treasure is gems, as I presume? No? Rare metal, then? No? Aha! Precious essences?"
"It might be any or none," said Reith. "I think it best, at this stage, to remain indefinite."
Woudiver twisted his face into a mask of whimsical vexation. "It is precisely this indefiniteness which gives me pause! If I knew better what I might expect-"
"Whoever helps me," said Reith, "or whoever accompanies me, can expect wealth."
Woudiver pursed his lips. "So now I must join this piratical expedition in order to share the booty?"
"I'll pay a reasonable percentage before we leave. If you come with us" Reith rolled his eyes toward the ceiling at the thought "or when we return, you'll get more."
"How much more, precisely?"
"I don't like to say. You'd suspect me of irresponsibility. But you wouldn't be disappointed."
From the corner Artilo gave a skeptical croak, which Woudiver ignored. He spoke in a voice of great dignity. "As a practical man I can't operate on speculation.
I would require a retaining fee of ten thousand sequins." He blew out his cheeks and glanced toward Reith. "Upon receipt of this sum, I would immediately exert my influence to set your scheme into motion."
"All very well," said Reith. "But, as a ridiculous supposition, let us assume that, rather than a man of honor, you were a scoundrel, a knave, a cheat. You might take my money, then find the project impossible for one reason or another, and I would have no recourse. Hence I can pay only for actual work accomplished."
A spasm of annoyance crossed Woudiver's face, but his voice was blandness itself. "Then pay me rent for yonder warehouse. It is a superb location, unobtrusive, close to the spaceyards, with every convenience. Furthermore, I can obtain an old hull from the junkyards, purportedly for use as a storage bin. I will charge but a nominal rent, ten thousand sequins a year, payable in advance."
Reith nodded sagely. "An interesting proposition. But since we won't need the premises for more than a few months, why should we inconvenience you? We can rent more cheaply elsewhere, in even better circumstances."
Woudiver's eyes narrowed; the flaps of skin surrounding his mouth trembled. "Let us deal openly with each other. Our interests run together, as long as I gain sequins. I will not work on the cheap. Either pay earnest-money, or our business is at an end."
"Very well," said Reith. "We will use your warehouse, and I will pay a thousand sequins for three months' rent on the day a suitable hull arrives on the premises and a crew starts to work."
"Hmf. That could be tomorrow."
"Excellent!"
"I will need funds to secure the hull. It has worth as scrap metal. Drayage will be a charge."
"Very well. Here is a thousand sequins." Reith counted the sum upon the desk.
Woudiver slapped down his great slab of a hand. "Insufficient! Inadequate!
Paltry!"
Reith spoke sharply. "Evidently you do not trust me. This does not predispose me to trust you. But you risk nothing but an hour or two of your time whereas I risk thousands of sequins."
Woudiver turned to Artilo. "What would you do?"
"Walk away from the mess."
Woudiver turned back to Reith, spread wide his arms. "There you have it."
Reith briskly picked up the thousand sequins. "Good day, then. It is a pleasure to have known you."
Neither Woudiver nor Artilo stirred.
The three returned to the hotel by public passenger wagon.
A day later Artilo appeared at the Ancient Realm Inn. "Aila Woudiver wants to see you."
"What for?"
"He's got you a hull. It's in the old warehouse. A gang is stripping and cleaning it. He wants money. What else?"
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE HULL was satisfactory, and of adequate dimensions. The metal was sound; the observation ports were clouded and stained but well seated and sealed.
Woudiver stood to the side as Reith inspected the hull, an expression of lofty tolerance on his face. Every day, so it seemed, he wore a new and more extravagant garment, today a black and yellow suit, a black hat with a scarlet panache. The clasp securing his cape was a silver and black oval, bisected along the minor axis. From one end protruded the stylized head of a Dirdir, from the other the head of a man. Woudiver, noticing Reith's gaze, gave a profound nod.
"You would never suspect as much from my physique, but my father was Immaculate."
"Indeed! And your mother?"
Woudiver's mouth twitched. "A noblewoman of the north."
Artilo spoke from the entry port: "A tavern wench of Thang, marshwoman by blood."
Woudiver sighed. "In the presence of Artilo, romantic delusion is impossible. In any event, but for the accidental interposition of an incorrect womb, here would stand Aila Woudiver, Dirdirman Immaculate of the Violet Degree, rather than Aila Woudiver, dealer in sand and gravel, and gallant prosecutor of lost causes."
"Illogical," murmured Anacho. "In fact, improbable. Not one Immaculate in a thousand retains Primitive Paraphernalia."
Woudiver's face instantly became a peculiar magenta color. Whirling with astounding swiftness, he pointed a thick finger. "Who dares talk of logic and probability? The renegade Ankhe at afram Anacho! Who wore Blue and Pink without undergoing the Anguish? Who disappeared coincidentally with the Excellent Azarvim issit Dardo, who has never been seen again? A proud Dirdirman, this Ankhe at afram!"
"I no longer consider myself a Dirdirman," said Anacho in a level voice. "I definitely have no ambition for the Blue and Pink, nor even the trophies of my lineage."
"In this case kindly do not comment upon the plight of one who is unluckily barred from his rightful caste!"
Anacho turned away, fuming with anger, but obviously deeming it wise to hold his tongue. It appeared that Aila Woudiver had not been idle, and Reith wondered how far his researches had extended.
Woudiver gradually regained his composure. His mouth twitched, his cheeks puffed in and out. He made a scornful noise. "To more profitable matters. What is your opinion of this hulk?"
"Favorable," said Reith. "We could expect no better from the scrap-heap."
"This is my opinion as well," said Woudiver. "The next phase of course will be somewhat more difficult. My friend at the spaceyards is by no means anxious to run the Glass Box, no more I. But an adequacy of sequins works wonders. Which brings us to the subject of money. My out-of-pocket expenses are eight hundred and ninety sequins for the hull, which I consider good value. Drayage charge: three hundred sequins. Shop rental for one month: one thousand sequins. Totaclass="underline" twenty-one hundred and ninety sequins. My commission or personal profit I reckon at ten percent, or two hundred and nineteen sequins, to a total of twenty-four hundred and nine sequins."
"Wait, wait, wait!" cried Reith. "Not a thousand sequins a month, a thousand for three months; that was my offer."
"It is too little."
"I'll pay five hundred, not a clear more. Now in the matter of your commission, let us be reasonable. You provide drayage at a profit; I pay a large rent on your warehouse; I see no reason to hand over an additional ten percent on these items."
"Why not?" inquired Woudiver in a reasonable voice. "It is a convenience to you that I can offer these services. I wear two hats, so to speak: that of the expediter and that of the supplier. Why, merely because the expediter finds a certain supplier convenient, inexpensive and efficient, should he be denied his fee? If the drayage were performed elsewhere, the charges would be no less, and I would receive my fee without complaint."