Vigil was a little embarrassed to admit that he could not place the clan or era of the name Jiminy Goddamn Cricket, or, for that matter, Yesman, so he phrased his question indirectly. “Did I misunderstand who you really are? Did you want me to call you Cricket?”

The man laughed. “Sure! Why the hell not? Don’t worry. I have that effect on a lot of people. They always think I am something bigger and smarter than I really am. Then they meet me. Everyone is let down or upset. But I really am the really real me. I am the guy you was looking for, which is why I walked up mop in hand.”

“I was sent here to recall the Table to its duty. Not to look for a janitor.”

The counselor shrugged. “’Swhat the damn Swans said, anyhow. They all work for me, too. Except when they don’t. I thought you wanted me to come in and help you out to find out who is looking for you. My bet is on the guy with the gold face there, Eligius, being behind it. Ain’t that why you hired me on? How much am I getting paid, anyway? And how much of what? What do your folks use for money? Is it something you drink?”

“Even with multiple minds, I cannot tell which question to answer first, Cricket.”

The man laughed again, as if Vigil had made, or was in on, a joke. “Just answer me this: You want to hear what they is saying?”

“Is it illegal to eavesdrop?”

“As illegal as seeing drunk old Noah’s naked ass, you betcha, sonny!”

“By all means, then.”

Signals flowed into Vigil’s mind.

7. Unprivate Conversation

The intercepted nerve indication between the eyes of the Aedile and the Castigator contained visual clues, expressions and body language, and so on, as well as nuance of voice, text, reference materials, and subtext.

It seemed odd to one of his background that the data were not formatted for presentation. There was nothing else in the signal stream, no background, no tactile sensation: it was like recalling a conversation when one has forgotten where and when it was held. Vigil assumed this was a limitation of those who could not juggle multiple internal creatures like a Strangerman could.

The Castigator was saying softly to the Aedile, “His comment is in the record; I cannot claim lack of notice. While technically, an amicus curiae cannot command me to castigate, nonetheless, once I am notified from any official source of an abrogation, I must either open a case or quash it. I also dare not face an inquest for dereliction.”

The Aedile’s eyes bright with anger. “And the downfall of our civilization and the death of our world?”

The Castigator said carefully, “As a Lord of the Stability, the incoming ship must hold me immune from local affairs. We here in the Palace of Future History will survive no matter what happens to our families outside there, who live in the local history of planet Torment.”

“You think to escape?”

“The Judge of Ages has already prepared a tomb for me that I might slumber until whatever day, a thousand years hence, when the distempers and disquiets created by the planetfall of Emancipation have been long forgotten.”

The Aedile said, “Pah! The Judge of Ages! He is known to have been born in madness and died in madness, somewhere in the barren Southeast lands, where no man treads! He lost his mind when his promised bride married the Master of the Empyrean! He is a myth, or he is insane, or he is dead, or perhaps all three at once!”

The Castigator said, “Beware, sir, lest you forget that the universe is stranger than we wish to imagine, perhaps stranger than we are able to imagine! Wonders bright and dark surround us daily, and we are complacent and blind.”

“Someone posing as the Judge of Ages deceived you! It was a Fox or something like that in a masquerade costume! I tell you he is dead and has no power over us!”

“I tell you the Judge of Ages will never die, and he stands and hears what you say, even in secret, and he weighs your words in his judgment! Shall he not condemn this generation and this age in which we live if we betray the oaths we serve?”

The Aedile said, “Speak not to me of oaths! You were ready enough to promise whatever was needed to arrange the ship would fall past and be lost forever in the night! You merely seek to save yourself.”

“As do you, cousin,” said the Castigator coldly.

“Would you put yourself before our clan and class? We are Pilgrims! You are an Eventide! We share a grandfather! We lose everything if that ship makes port!”

“Sir, with respect, since the very same minute just before the Lord Hermeticist entered, we all busily agreeing to put our clan and class before our world and our duty, and pelting dire threats against anyone here who opposed us or threatened to tell the multitudes, you have no right to speak to me this way!”

“I’ll speak as I like, jackanape!”

“Then speak quickly: if you can think of a way I can avoid calling up the Angels of Retribution, I will serve you. But I will not sacrifice my soul for you.”

“You are afraid.”

“With good reason. The Order of Ktenological Castigation and Reprimand is not a weak and pleasant order like that of the Aediles, you who sit on cushions of velvet, counting coins of gold. Do you know what the penalty is if I, as the head of the order, were to betray my oath? Do you remember what it is those who dwell, undying, the House of Most Silent Excruciation, once were allowed—and on this world—to do with their arts? Can you imagine what would be done to every thought and memory in the mind? The Infliction would start with the memories of my children. Seat the Lord Hermeticist, or I call the Angel!”

The signal ended at that moment.

8. An Outside Power

The ugly man put his mask near Vigil and spoke aloud, but softly, “That was not a good sign. Some outside mind cut me off, something smarter than an Archangel and more cunning than a Fox.”

Vigil whispered back, “It is the Potentate. Torment slew my father and seeks to have the ship fail.”

“The hell you say.”

“I do not know what that means.”

“It means why didn’t you say this before?”

“I could not share my danger with you. My death will be glorious in memory should the Potentate break her oaths and trifle with human affairs! But you are not a—”

Vigil paused, astonished. He had been about to say that the affairs of the Stability of Man were no concern of this janitor, but then it burst upon him that the man, despite his humble station, was indeed a member of the Order. Even the lowest-ranked servant or prentice must have taken the same oath as the Aedile himself.

Vigil said, “I am proud to share my fate with you.”

Oddly enough, the man called Cricket was not listening. He was speaking softly and quickly to himself. “Torment wants the ship dead? Well, that makes a whole bunch of fog clouds up and blew away. Here I thought it was Blackie behind all this. He is not in the picture? For once? That is a change. I must be getting paranoid, losing my mind like everyone always says. Is Torment pulling the strings and yanking my chain? Hey! Quick! What did she say? She talk to you herself?”

“Who is Blah Key?”

“You first. What does Torment want? All this time, I thought—”

But at that moment, trumpets blared. It was the Docking Fanfare. The Aedile Eventide raised his hands in the ancient gesture, tapping his ear and pointing his thumb toward the ceiling with one hand. The other he extended toward Vigil, palm turned inward, fingers curled, beckoning. Signal good. Approach.

In a voice dead, defeated, and dispirited, Eligius Eventide, Lord Aedile and First Speaker, addressed him with the needed words, “If the Commensal Spacefarer most recently revenant from heaven will be pleased when called upon to give aid, advice, and comfort to the best of your knowledge and ability, and to do all other lawful things requested for the welfare of the futurity we plan and guide and guard, this Table will take cognizance of you. Will you hear, and will you remember to act for the good of the Loyal and Self-Correctional Order of Prognostic Actuarial Cliometric Stability to the exclusion of all other interests, oaths, and loyalties, to do all in your power to ensure and confirm the Launching and the Arrivals of the Starfaring Vessels, according as the Great Schedule commands and foretells, never to betray the principles on which the Table rests?”