"Very strange. She is unpredictable. She means, of course, that Glawen is something of a poet, and unless you and I direct his every move, he'll just stand and daydream."
"Hm. Do you really think that's what she meant?"
"I'm sure of it."
"When can I have a turn directing Giawen?"
Sessily said: "Sometimes, Squeaker, I suspect that you are far wiser
than you let on. You definitely may not have a turn with Glawen. Not until I have put him through all his paces, and proved that he is tame. Now, then, come over here and make yourself useful."
"Are there really rats and vermin down here?"
"I don't know. Go look in that dark corner, behind those boxes. If something jumps out at you--well, we'll all know not to do it again."
"It's not all that important, thank you."
Sessily told Glawen: "Squeaker is very brave in such matters, remarkably so."
"Not exactly," said Squeaker.
"In fact, not at all, though it's nice of you to say so. Also, I've been thinking lately that I'd rather not be called Squeaker anymore. Glawen, did you hear that?"
"I certainly did. What should we call you?"
"My real name is Miranda. It sounds more like a girl than "Squeaker."" "Perhaps so," said Glawen.
"What does "Squeaker' sound like, in your opinion?"
"I know what it sounds like! When anyone says "Squeaker' they think of me."
"Exactly right!" said Sessily.
"Well, we must change our ways. Especially since "Miranda' is a pretty name just right for a nice girl who is not a brat, like so many other little sisters I know."
"Thank you, Sessily."
Just after sundown Glawen returned to Clattuc House, and once again Scharde was gone from their chambers. Glawen stood indecisively, disturbed by a feeling of guilt for some deed or misdeed which he could not define, but for which Scharde's absence seemed to reproach him. What could his father be doing at this quiet hour of the evening? The matter of Sisco's larceny must long since have been settled . Glawen telephoned Namour's office but made no contact.
He called Bureau B headquarters at the New Agency and was told that in all likelihood Scharde was still occupied at the compound. ;
Glawen waited no longer. He left the chambers, departed Clattuc House and started for the compound, only to be met by Scharde.^ Glawen said hurriedly: "I was just starting out to look for you. WhatU has kept you so long?" U "Quite a good bit," said-Scharde.
"Wait for me in the refectory. PItlJ be down as soon as I wash up."
Ten minutes later Scharde joined Glawen at the table where he sat nibbling on cheese and salt biscuits. Scharde asked:
"And where have you been hiding yourself all afternoon? You were needed."
"I'm sorry," said Glawen.
"I was helping Sessily with her costume. I wasn't aware that anything was going on."
"I might have guessed," said Scharde.
"Parilia must proceed, or so I suppose. We managed without you, and probably saved your young lives in the process. Although, now that I think of it, you had a hand in the matter yourself."
"But what happened?"
Scharde was silent while the Yip waiter served them soup.
Then he said: "It is truly a wonderful chain of circumstances. Parilia seems to have a charmed life of its own."
"How so?"
"If it were not for Parilia, Sessily would never have wanted butterfly wings. You would not have heroically tried to shoot tangle-tops with an empty gun. Chilke's honor would not have been outraged and he would not have forced his way into Sisco's room, to make his awesome discovery. Bureau B would not have been called down to the compound, where we searched room after room, and found not only mounds and heaps of stolen goods and aircraft parts, but also a small arsenal. Every Yip at the compound owned a weapon: knives, dart shooters, span tics and twenty-eight guns. The place was an armed camp. Namour declares himself dumbfounded. He is very subdued at the moment, and he admits Chiike was right, although for the wrong reasons."
Glawen asked: "But what is the meaning of all this?"
"Nobody knows for sure. The Yips just simper and smirk, and look off into space with their eyes crossed. The guns were presents from tourists, for being nice. So they say. That means that tourists visiting Yipton were provided Yip girls during their stay and paid off in guns. It's quite possible.
We'll squeeze down on that right away; there'll be no more guns taken out to Yipton.
"The Yips won't tell us anything of their plans. But next week is Parilia. On Ort the ferry was to bring in a new gang of Yips, perhaps with more weapons. Everyone wonders if, say, Tzein or Ing night, when folk are standing around in their costumes, drunk and careless, if there might not have been a sudden screaming attack and a fine massacre, with the Yips pouring into Araminta by the thousands. Then they fly south to Throy and blow Stroma into the fjord, and it's all over; the hay is in the barn, and Deucas is thereafter known as Yipland, with Titus Pompo the Oomphaw ofCadwal.
But"---and here Scharde held up his finger-- "Sessily decided she wanted butterfly wings and Chiike is a man who
won't be denied and so Parilia will proceed as usual, and very few folk will know how near they were to something else."
