The tall narrow windows seemed blind and vacant, as if no one troubled to look out at the view. A most cheerless place in which to study, thought Glawen, with the single advantage: there would be no frivolities or entertainments to distract the students. He stepped forward, raised and let fall the brass door-knocker.
A moment passed. The door opened; a burly round-faced man, somewhat taller than Glawen, with round close-set eyes, looked forth. He wore a gown of gray-brown first and a cowl leaving only his face exposed. He gave Glawen a scowling inspection.
"Why do you think we post signs? Are you illiterate?"
"I am not illiterate, and I read your sign."
"So much the worse! We don't take kindly to intruders!"
Glawen controlled his voice.
"I am Captain Glawen Clattuc. I was told to knock at the door and inquire for the Ordene Zaa."
"Were you indeed? And what is your business?"
"I have already explained it over the telephone."
"Explain it again; I don't admit every popinjay who comes skulking around in search of treasure."
Glawen drew himself up.
"I am not acquainted with your methods. What is your name?"
"That is not germane, at the moment."
Glawen read names from the list.
"Are you one of these?"
"I am Mutis, if you must know."
"Then you were present at the Thurben Island excursion?"
"What of it?"
"Who provided you your tickets?"
Alutis held up his hand.
"Put your questions to the Ordene said see how she answers you."
"That was my request in the first place."
Mutis ignored the remark.
"Stand where you are." The door closed in Glawen's face.
Glawen turned, descended the steps and went out into the road, where he paced back and forth. He stopped short. A childish act, he told himself. It was beneath his dignity to so much as notice Mutis' conduct. He returned to the porch, but stood with his back to the door, looking off across the steppe.
Behind him he heard the door open and turned. The expression of easy condescension he had prepared for Muds was wasted.
In the doorway stood a person of lesser stature, far more slender than Mutis. Man or woman? Glawen was disposed to guess woman. Her age? Judgment was difficult, by reason of the austere seminary garments. Glawen assumed early, or perhaps middle, maturity. Even swathed in the folds of her white gown she seemed thin; the cowl exposed only dark luminous eyes, a short thin nose, skin almost as white as the cowl, a mouth colorless and severe. Her racial stock was clearly different from that of the Zubenites Glawen had observed on the bus. Standing in the doorway she examined Glawen from head to foot, with rather more careful attention than he thought needful. At last she spoke, in a husky voice: "I am the Ordene Zaa. What do you want of me?"
Glawen responded with formal politeness: "I am Captain Glawen Clattuc, from Arammta Station on Cadwal. The Conservator has sent me here to make certain inquiries. That is the reason for my presence."
Zaa's face showed no change of expression, nor did she show any disposition to allow Glawen entry into the seminary.
"I
can only repeat my question."
Glawen acknowledged the remark with a punctilious nod of the head.
"I am an officer of the Station Police, and I am affiliated with the IPCC. If you wish, I will show you my credentials."
"No matter. It is all the same, one way or the other."
"I cite these facts so that you will not mistake me for a casual visitor. My inquiries concern the recent Thurben Island excursion made by six of your people." Glawen read off the names.
"I am not interested in these six men; I want only to learn the identity of the person or persons who arranged the event."
Zaa stood silently in the doorway. Glawen realized that he had asked no question. The cool stare was unnerving. He must take care, he told himself, neither to become impatient nor yet to lose his composure. He spoke as before, formally polite: "Can you provide me the name of this person?"
"Yes."
"What is this person's name?"
"This person is dead. I do not know whether dead people make use of names."
