Free Throy by Jack Vance Page A

force and consequence of Bureau B!”
    “Very good, sir! I will remember this point. Still, my death will not solve your personnel problems.”
    Bodwyn Wook, leaning back in his chair, surveyed Glawen dispassionately. “You have some valuable qualities, patience and persistence among them, which help make you a competent operative. But I suspect that your most valuable adjunct is luck. For this reason I doubt if you will be killed or even maimed. Your marriage will still be viable when you return - provided that you do not stay away too long.”
    “I almost feel sorry for Namour, once I lay my hands on him,” Glawen muttered.
    Bodwyn Wook ignored the remark. “Report here tomorrow at noon for your final instructions. In the afternoon you will board the Mircea Wanderling which will take you down the Wisp to the junction at Soumjiana.”
     
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    Chapter 2, Part III
     
    On the following day, five minutes before noon, Glawen arrived at the Bureau B offices. He checked in with Hilda, who languidly glanced at a list. she shook her head. “He is in conference at the moment; you’ll have to wait until he is free.”
              “Please tell him that I am waiting,” said Glawen. “He asked me to report at noon precisely.”
    Hilda grudgingly spoke into the communicator, and sniffed disapprovingly to hear Bodwyn Wook’s emphatic response. She jerked her head toward the door. “He says for you to go on in.”
    Glawen entered the office. Bodwyn Wook was not alone. In a chair to the side sat Eustace Chilke. Glawen stopped short and stared, momentarily taken aback. Chilke gave him a casual wave of the hand, along with a rather sheepish grin, as if he too recognized the incongruity of his presence here in Bodwyn Wook’s office.
    Chilke had been born at Idola, on the Big Prairie of Old Earth. At an early age, the lure of far places had become irresistible, and he had gone off to explore the worlds of the Gaean Reach. The years went by, and Chilke wandered here and there. He visited strange landscapes and exotic cities, where he dined on odd concoctions and slept in strange beds, sometimes in company with mysterious companions. He worked at many employments, acquiring a variety of unusual skills. Arriving at Araminta Station, he found a congenial environment and came to rest. He now worked at the air terminal, where an important title ‘Director of Air Operations’ augmented his relatively modest stipend.
    Chilke, a few years past the first flush of youth, was of middle stature and sturdy physique, with innocent blue eyes and short dusty-blond curls. His features were blunt and somewhat askew, which gave him an air of droll perplexity, mixed with muted reproach for the tribulations which had been his lot in life. Sitting now to the side of Bodwyn Wook’s office, Chilke seemed quite at ease, his manner unconcerned.
    Glawen seated himself and tried to appraise the condition of Bodwyn Wook’s disposition. The signs were not reassuring. Bodwyn Wook sat bolt upright at the edge of his chair, squinting as he arranged the papers on his desk. He darted a sharp yellow glance toward Glawen and finally spoke. “I have conferred at length with Commander Chilke. It has been a useful exercise.”
    Glawen acknowledged the remark with a nod. He might have pointed out that Chilke’s title was more correctly ‘Director,’ but Bodwyn Wook would not thank him for the correction.
    “I have ascertained that Eustace Chilke is a man of many competencies and wide experience. I believe that this is your opinion?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Yesterday you expressed timidity at the prospect of conducting an off-world mission alone.”
    “What!” cried Glawen, jarred from his passivity. “No such thing!”
    Bodwyn Wook appraised him under hooded eyelids. “You did not express such diffidence?”
    “I said that I doubted whether I could capture Namour and a gang of thugs single-handed!”
    “It is all the same, one way or the other. You