Future Indefinite Read Free Page B

had unleashed his next song.
    “‘And this is the law I will maintain,
    Until my dying day, sir….’”
    The men smoked in silence, and Ursula leaned on the rail between them, scowling at the night.
    “Could be serious,” she said.
    “‘That whatsoever king shall
    reign…’”
    “Absolutely,” Pinky agreed.
    “‘I will be the vicar of Bray, sir….’”
    “You’re going to send someone to bring him in?”
    “That was what we were debating when you arrived.”
    Jumbo remarked, sounding amused.
    “It’s a matter for the Committee,” Ursula said, “but of course you haven’t told Foghorn yet, have you? Want to get it all settled beforehand, don’t you? You two and your cronies.”
    “Not settled,” Pinky protested. “Dear me, no. Not settled. Didn’t want to spoil a delightful evening by bringing up business. But I knew Jumbo would be interested. Thought he might have a few ideas. And you, too, my dear. You agree we ought to send someone to have a word with Exeter?”
    “Just to have a word with him?”
    “The emissary’s terms of reference would have to be very carefully drawn,” Pinky said cautiously. “A certain amount of discretion might be permitted.”
    Jumbo coughed as if he had swallowed more smoke than he intended. “Spoken like a true gentleman—Cesare Borgia, say, or Machiavelli. Well, he certainly won’t let me near him. Not after what happened the last time.”
    “If he has any brains at all,” Ursula said, “he won’t let any of us near him. Except Smedley, perhaps. Old school chum? Yes, he’d listen to Julian.”
    Pinky closed his eyes and smiled beneficently. “Captain Smedley is an excellent young man. But he is rather new here. Do you think he could comprehend all the ramifications of the situation? I am sure he would deliver a message, but would he plead our case with conviction?” He peered at her inquiringly.
    “He certainly won’t do the dirty work you’ve got in mind. But remember he has no mana. I think you need to send two emissaries to Exeter—his friend Smedley and someone else, someone who can help the captain out if there is need for a little muscle.”
    “Ah! Brilliant! I expect we should have seen that solution in time, Jumbo, what? Two emissaries, of course! And who should the other one be? What do you think?”
    Jumbo sighed. “I don’t like this. Not one bit. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. We need someone with damned good judgment.”
    “And very few scruples?” Ursula inquired scathingly.
    “Now, now,” Pinky said soothingly. “Don’t go jumping to conclusions. I am quite hopeful that Mr. Exeter will see reason.”
    “It’s a matter for the Committee. Let them decide. Now come on back inside, both of you, and stop this inner-circle intriguing.” She spun on her heel and strode off into the drawing room, a surprisingly abrupt departure.
    Two cigar ends glowed simultaneously. Two smoke clouds wafted into the night air.
    “Obvious!” said Pinky. “We’d have thought of her on our own, wouldn’t we? Eventually?”
    Jumbo sighed again. “Truly it is written that the female of the species is more deadly than the male.”
    “Oh, quite,” said Pinky, smiling with his eyes closed. “Quite.”

3
    Seven Stones in Randorvale had only four stones—one vertical, two leaning, and one fallen. The missing three were either buried in undergrowth or had been carted away in past ages. The remaining four were set in a grassy glade walled around by enormous trees like terrestrial cedars that crowned the level summit of the knoll. It was a spooky place, dim and pungent with leafy odors, stuffy as a Turkish bath on this breathless autumn afternoon. Staying well back from the crowd, hidden behind shrubbery, Julian Smedley could feel his skin tingling from the virtuality.
    Using the fallen stone as a pulpit, Kinulusim Spicemerchant was thundering the gospel of the Undivided at a flock of forty or so people sitting cross-legged on the grass. Men and