"It must have been a great adventure."
Kirdy grunted.
"Floreste kept us hard at it. Half the time we never knew where we were, although we usually made the same run: Natrice, Soum, sometimes out to Protagne or Tassadero or New Calvary, or even Mildred's Blue World, then back to the Wisp and Old Lumas, and once or twice down to Caffin's World. We never went much farther."
"Why was that?"
"We'd go as far as Floreste could promote cheap transportation;
he's an avaricious old devil not for himself, mind you, but for his new Orpheum."
"Which of these worlds did you like the best?"
Kirdy replied in a measured monotone.
"Floreste fed us better on Soum. Natrice was dull and very moral, especially out along the Lanklands, where food was the worst. We were served cakes of shredded nettles and a sour black lizard soup. The only sweets were shriveled little pellets like raisins, which I learned were dried insects. Floreste would only go to the Lanklands when he couldn't fill our schedule in Poinciana or Halcyon or Summer City. The Sanart Scientists have a law which bars heterosexual pageants to hetero sexual audiences. Floreste ignored the law but no one bothered him, since his shows were so innocent, particularly among the Sanart Scientists."
"Sanart Scientists?" Illumination came to Glawen's mind.
"So that's where the "SS." in front of names comes from."
"They'll all SS. this or SS. that," said Kirdy.
"It's a mark of dignity."
"What of the ladies? Are they dignified too?"
"They'd like to be, I'm sure. But they're Vs. this and Vs.
that."
"Which means what?"
Kirdy shrugged.
"Floreste said it meant "Vessel," but he might have been joking. They wear long black gowns and funny black hats. Floreste said it was because ladies were inherently frivolous. The Scientist ladies looked more woebegone than anything else. I'm told that each morning at dawn everyone bathes in cold water."
"I'd be woebegone too," said Glawen.
Kirdy gave an abstracted nod.
"We heard strange stories about the Sanart Scientists."
"The strangest of all is that six Sanart Scientists went out to Thurben Island, along with Sir Mathor Borph and Sir Lonas Medlyn from Halcyon."
"Those last two are Patrunes, which means 'aristocrats."
Ordinarily they're not on good terms with the Sanart Scientists, but I guess on Thurben Island all cats are gray.
Ah, me. It's none of our business, after all."
Glawen turned him a puzzled glance.
"Certainly it's our business, if it helps us identify Ogmo."
"Don't you really think it's a lot of wasted energy? This is just one of Bodwyn Week's famous naming uproars. The old baboon fears he'll be ignored otherwise. The Thurben Island parties are stopped; what more does he want?"
"He wants to capture the villains responsible, so that they won't do it again. It's a fine idea."
"I'm not so sure," said Kirdy.
"Get rid of one villain; two others jump up to take his place. This Ogmo business is a sheer mare's nest, a tangle of false starts and folly. And whom do we find skulking and hiding and dashing about in a lather of sweat and discomfort? Is it Bodwyn Wook? Not on your life. It's a pair of young varlets, Glawen Clattuc and Kirdy Wook."
Glawen said dolefully: "That is our lot in life."
"Bah!" said Kirdy.
"Why should we bother? The same stuff goes on at Yipton, if someone cares to pay the price."
"I suspect that you are right," said Glawen. A soft voice from the nunciators announced lunch.
"In any event, this is our assignment and I'd prefer to do it properly than otherwise. What about you?"
Kirdy merely turned Glawen a stony glance, which Glawen pretended not to notice.
The two went aft to the dining saloon and seated themselves at a table. A pop-up screen displayed the bill of fare;
Kirdy glanced at it, then looked away.
