"What was the person's name while he or she was alive?"
"The Ordene Sibil."
"Do you know how the Ordene Sibil learned of the excursions?"
"Yes, and to anticipate your question, I see no reason to divulge this information."
"What are the reasons for your reluctance?"
"They are complicated and would require a certain amount of background knowledge before you could understand them."
Glawen nodded thoughtfully. In his most cordial tones he said: "If you care to step outside, we can sit on the steps, which will spare you the fatigue of standing. Then, if you choose, you might provide me a brief outline of this 'knowledge'--enough, at least, for our present purposes."
The Ordene Zaa said evenly: "I suggest that you keep a very tight check on your impertinence. I detect in you both vanity and aggressiveness; you have made a poor impression."
"I am sorry to hear that," said Glawen.
"This certainly was not my intention."
"I see no reason to sit on the steps and there repeat the remarks I have already made. Consider them carefully and well. If you wish further information, you may enter the premises, but you do so by your own volition, not by my invitation. Is this clear?"
Glawen frowned.
"Not altogether."
"The statement seems clear enough to me," said Zaa.
Glawen hesitated. Zaa's remarks, by their tone as much as by their content, hinted of inconvenience, the responsibility for which he would be taking upon himself. He opened his mouth to ask for details, but the doorway was empty; Zaa had turned away.
Glawen stood looking indecisively through the doorway. What harm could come to him? He was a police official; if he were detained or molested, Kirdy would notify the Adjudicant Plock. He took a deep breath and stepped through the doorway into a high-ceilinged vestibule with stone walls and floor, unoccupied except for himself.
Glawen waited a moment, but no one came to speak with him.
To the side a short vaulted passage led into what would seem a conference room: like the vestibule, high-ceilinged and paved with square tiles of black stone. Three high windows, tall and narrow, broke the far wall;
pallid beams of Zonklight slanted down upon a long table of wooden planks, scrubbed so diligently over so many years that the hard grain stood out in relief. Heavy wooden chairs surrounded the table;
benches skirted the walls. At the back of the room, in the shadows, stood Zaa.
Zaa pointed to a bench.
"Sit; enjoy your rest. Say quickly what you wish to say."
Glawen made a polite gesture.
"Perhaps you will join me?"
Zaa looked at him blankly.
"At what?"
"I do not like to sit while you stand."
"You are gallant, but I prefer to stand." She pointed to the bench again, in a manner Glawen found somewhat peremptory.
Glawen bowed with dignity, and settled upon the end of a bench. Hoping to bring an element of civility to the conversation, he said:
"This is a remarkable building! Is it old?"
"Quite old. Exactly why have you come here?"
Patiently Glawen repeated the reasons for his presence.
"As you see, it is not complicated. The promoter of these excursions is a criminal who must be brought to justice."
Zaa smiled.
"Is it not possible that our concepts might differ?"
"Not in this case. The details would sicken you."
"I am not easily affected."
Glawen shrugged.
"Justice to the side, your interests may best be served by answering my questions."
"I am unable to follow your logic."
