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Glawen decided to give Kirdy the benefit of the doubt.

"I looked into the two travel agencies. Neither admits dealings with Ogmo Enterprises, nor yet has booked any Perfection of Joy excursions. Both managers would seem to be honest."

"So where does that leave us?"

"Let's have our lunch and we'll talk things over."

The restaurant bordered the jungle garden, which under the gray- glass dome, occupied an area well over two hundred feet in diameter. Vegetation of a thousand sorts grew high and low, displaying leaves of every quality. At the center a crag of rough black basalt reared fifty feet above the jungle floor. A stream of water gushed from a spring near the pinnacle and descended, leaping and bounding and creating a pleasant sound. Paths from the restaurant penetrated the edges of the jungle garden, leading to tables hidden in the foliage.

Glawen and Kirdy sat at the edge of the garden and were served a lunch of high quality. Kirdy, considering the prices, shook his head in melancholy recollection.

"Floreste would feed the Mummers a week on what our lunch will cost us. In those days, we didn't know the difference or perhaps did not care. We were truly a ha rum-scarum group; there was always some kind of high jinks afoot. I don't know if I could go back to that sort of life. It has its attractions, of course. The girls were all so pretty, and so close at hand, and yet so unavailable Floreste saw to that. He was not at all permissive; if you loved, you loved in vain at least until the end of the tour. Then, of course, you could do what you wanted if it wasn't already too late. All in all, they were good days."

"They are days long past," said Glawen.

"Let us discuss our situation. It is clear that " Kirdy interrupted.

"I've given the matter careful thought. I under stand your point of view. For the investigation to proceed, obviously we must work in harmony. It is not necessary that I like you or that you like me. But we must agree on a system which allows us to work together."

"Quite so," said Glawen.

"We shall use the ordinary and traditional system. I am the person in charge; you are the assistant. There is no scope for fits of temperament. I don't want any more emotional spasms or threats; they distract me from my work. So there you have it. The old-fashioned system, or none at all, which means that I go my way and you go back to Cadwai."

"I understand and agree."

Glawen remembered his fears of the crafty subconscious and feigned normalcy. As if from casual curiosity he asked: "At this moment you seem quite the old Kirdy. Have you assembled the pieces of your old mind, so to speak? Or has your second mind adapted to real conditions?"

Kirdy showed a small tight smile.

"R .dl conditions? That is an ambiguous term, which amuses at least one of my minds. In all candor, I have had what amounts to an enlightenment. All this time I have theorized that my conduct prior to the Yipton affair was governed by what I shall call Mind A and after Yipton by Mind B. I have just now learned that this was not quite correct. In truth. Mind B has been dominant for many years, with Mind A the intercessor in charge of what you just now called 'real conditions." I think this is the general rule with everyone: you, me, Bodwyn Wook, Aries, Namour:

everyone. Mind B is the citadel; Mind A is the herald that runs out the gate to deliver messages here and there, and occasionally brings back news of the outside world."

"I know nothing of the subject," said Glawen.

"You may well be right. At the moment I want your full cooperation: no threats, no sulks, no peevish complaints. Are you able to control yourself to this extent?"

"Naturally," said Kirdy coldly.

"I can do anything I see fit to do."

"And you will do it?"

Kirdy's face tightened: a signal which Glawen found disturbing.

"I'll do my best," said Kirdy shortly.

"Sorry," said Glawen.

"As I have mentioned before, that's not good enough. I want 'yes' or 'no," once and for all, without reservations or escape routes."

"In that case, yes." Kirdy's voice again was dead and mechanical. Glawen heaved a deep sigh. He could do no more, except hope to finish the investigation at speed and as speedily return to Araminta Station.

The two finished their lunch in silence. Glawen rose from the table.

"I must ask a few more questions at the travel agencies. You can come with me or wait in the lobby, as you like."

"I'll come with you."

The two walked down the Parade to the Phlodoric Agency.

Sirrah Kyrbs, sitting at his desk, looked up with a slack face. He rose and greeted them with a stiff bow.

"May I be of service?"

"I hope so, sir. This is my colleague. Sergeant Kirdy Wook.

I have a few more questions, if I may again impose upon your patience."

"I will surely respond as the law directs, within such limits as may be dictated by discretion."

"You need have no fears. Your information will be kept in strict confidence."

"Ask on."

"Is the name "Sir Mathor Borph' known to you?"

"Naturally. Sir Mathor is one of our valued patrons."

Are sens

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