"I should suppose not. You are a technician?"

"Nothing so grand. I inspect wheels at the car yard."

"Many foreign technicians are at work in Settra?"

"True. Cath is comfortable enough, if you can overlook the vagaries of the Yao."

"What about Wankhmen? Are there any such in Settra?"

"At work? Never. When I sojourned at Ao Zalil, to the east of Lake Falas, I saw how it went. The Wankhmen will not even work for the Wankh; they have sufficient exertion pronouncing the Wankh chimes. Though usually they play the chords on remarkable little instruments."

"Who works in the Wankh shops? Blacks and Purples?"

"Bah! One might be forced to handle an article the other had touched.

Back-country Lokhars for the most part work in the shops. For ten or twenty years, or longer, they toil, then they return to their villages rich men.

Wankhmen at work in the shops? What a joke! They are as proud as Dirdirman Immaculates! I see a Dirdirman beside you tonight."

"Yes, he is my comrade."

"Odd to find a Dirdirman so common!" marveled the old man. "I have seen only three previously and all treated me like dirt." He drained his goblet, set it down with a rap. "Now I must leave; I bid all good evening, Dirdirman as well."

The old man departed. With almost the same swing of the door a pale black-haired young man dressed unobtrusively in dark blue broadcloth entered the tavern.

Somewhere, thought Reith, he had seen this young man, and recently....here?

The man walked slowly, almost absentmindedly, along the passage beside the wall.

He went to the serving counter, was poured a goblet of sharp syrup. As he turned away his gaze met that of Reith's. He nodded politely and after a moment's hesitation approached. Reith now recognized him for Cizante's pallid young aide.

"Good evening," said the young man. "Perhaps you recognize me? I am Helsse of Isan, a Blue jade connection. I believe that we met today."

"I had a few words with your master, true enough."

Helsse sipped from his goblet, made a fastidious grimace, placed the goblet on the bar. "Let's move to a more secluded place, where we can talk."

Reith spoke to Traz and Anacho, then turned back to Helsse. "Lead the way."

Helsse glanced casually toward the front entrance but chose to leave through the restaurant. As they departed Reith glimpsed a man thrusting into the tavern, to glare wildly around the room: Dordolio.

Helsse appeared not to notice. "Nearby is a little cabaret, not overly genteel, but as good as anywhere else for our talk."

The cabaret was a low-ceilinged room, lit by red and blue lamps with blue-painted booths around the periphery. A number of musicians sat on a platform, two of whom played small gongs and drum, while a male dancer strode sinuously this way and that. Helsse selected a booth near the door, as far as possible from the musicians; the two seated themselves on blue cushions. Helsse ordered two drams of "Wildwood Tincture" which were presently brought to the table.

The dancer departed, the musicians undertook a new selection, with instruments similar to oboe, flute, cello, and a kettledrum. Reith listened for a moment, puzzled by the plaintive scraping, the thumps of the kettledrum, the sudden excited trills of the flute.

Helsse leaned solicitously forward. "You are unfamiliar with Yao music? I thought as much. This is one of the traditional forms: a lament."

"It could never be mistaken for a cheerful composition."

"A question of degree." Helsse went on to list a series of musical forms, of decreasing optimism. "I do not mean to imply that the Yao are a dour folk; you need only attend one of the season balls to appreciate this."

"I doubt if I will be invited," said Reith.

The orchestra embarked upon another selection, a series of passionate phrases, taken up by each instrument at varying instants, to terminate in a wild sustained quaver. By some cross sensoral stimulus, Reith thought of the monument in the circular park. "The music bears some connection with your ritual of expiation?"

Helsse smiled distantly. "I have heard it said that the spirit of Pathetic Communion permeates the Yao psyche."

"Interesting." Reith waited. Helsse had not brought him here to discuss music.

"I trust that the events of this afternoon caused you no inconvenience?" asked Helsse.

"None whatever, other than irritation."

"You did not expect the boon?"

"I knew nothing of it. I expected ordinary courtesy, certainly. My reception by Lord Cizante, in retrospect, seems remarkable."

Helsse nodded sagely. "He is a remarkable man. But now he finds himself in an awkward position. Immediately upon your departure the cavalier Dordolio presented himself to denounce you as an interloper, and to demand the boon for himself. To be quite candid, such a proceeding, on Dordolio's terms, would embarrass Lord Cizante, when one takes all into consideration. You perhaps would not be aware that Blue Jade and Gold-Carnelian are rival houses. Lord Cizante suspects that Dordolio would use the boon to humiliate Blue Jade, with what consequences no one can foresee."

Reith asked: "Exactly what was the boon promised by Cizante?"

"Emotion overcame his reserve," said Helsse. "He declared: 'Whoever returns me my daughter or so much as brings me news, let him ask and I will fulfill as best I can.' Strong language, as you see, uttered only for the ears of Blue Jade, but the news circulated."

"It appears," said Reith, "that I do Cizante a favor by accepting his bounty."

"This is what we wish to ascertain," said Helsse carefully. "Dordolio has made a number of scurrilous statements in regard to you. He declares you a superstitious barbarian intent on reviving the 'cult.' If you demanded that Lord Cizante convert his palace into a temple and himself join the 'cult,' he might well prefer Dordolio's terms."

"Even though I appeared first on the scene?"

"Dordolio claims trickery, and is violently angry. But all this to the side, what might you demand of Lord Cizante, in light of the circumstances?"

Reith considered. Unfortunately, he could not afford the prideful luxury of refusal. "I'm not sure. I could use some unprejudiced advice, but I don't know where to find it."

"Try me," suggested Helsse.

"You are hardly unprejudiced."

"Much more than you might think."

Reith studied the pale handsome face, the still black eyes. A puzzling man was Helsse, the more so for his impersonality, neither cordial nor cold. He spoke with ostensible candor but permitted no inadvertent or unconscious signals to advertise the state of his inner self.

The orchestra had dispersed. To the platform came a somewhat obese man in a long maroon robe. Behind him sat a woman with long black hair plucking a lute. The man produced an ululating wail: half-words which Reith was unable to comprehend.

"Another traditional melody?" he inquired.

Helsse shrugged. "A special mode of singing. It is not altogether without value.

If everyone belabored themselves thusly, there would be far less awaile.'

Reith listened. "Judge me harshly, all," moaned the singer. "I have performed a terrible crime; it is because of my despair."

"Offhand," said Reith, "it seems absurd to discuss my best advantage over Lord Cizante with Cizante's aide."

"Ah, but your best advantage is not necessarily Lord Cizante's disadvantage," said Helsse. "With Dordolio the case is different."

"Lord Cizante showed me no great courtesy," mused Reith. "I am not anxious to do him a favor. On the other hand, I do not care to assist Dordolio, who calls me a superstitious barbarian."

"Lord Cizante was perhaps shocked by your news," suggested Helsse. "As for Dordolio's charge, it is obviously inaccurate and need no longer be considered."