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knowledgeable in regard to the game’s tactical intricacies; she now conveyed to Glawen a number of her opinions.
    With Scharde’s advice in mind, Glawen carefully suppressed all evidence of independent thought, and later Clotilde remarked upon Glawen’s intelligence to her cronies.
    The Supper culminated with a festive pudding of iced custard and fruit. The company drank a ritual, if rather perfunctory, toast to Glawen, then Fratano rose to his feet, and the Supper was at an end.
    A number of folk, as they left the room, paused to wish Glawen good luck. Arles sauntered across the room. “A good number!” he stated. “A very fair number, considering everything. I’d placed it a bit higher, as you know, but I’m glad to see that all turned out favorably. Although you don’t want to be overconfident! 24 is by no means a free pass.”
    “I know.”
    Scharde took Glawen’s arm and the two returned to their chambers, where Glawen instantly rushed into his bedroom and changed into ordinary clothes.
    He returned to the parlor to find Scharde at the window, brooding across the landscape. Scharde turned and pointed to a chair. “Sit. We have important matters to discuss.”
    Glawen slowly seated himself, wondering what was afoot. Scharde brought out a bottle of the light fresh wine known as Quiritavo and poured a pair of goblets half full. He noticed Glawen’s expression and grinned. “Relax! There are no dreadful secrets to be shared with you on your sixteenth birthday – just some precautions: practical planning, so to speak.”
    “In regard to Spanchetta?”
    “Quite right. She has been humiliated and everyone is laughing at her. She is seething with fury and padding back and forth like some awful beast in a cage.”
    Glawen said thoughtfully: “If Arles is wise, he will slip down to the Lions’ Lair and hide under the table.”
    “And if he is very wise indeed, he will never mention that due to his loose tongue we were able to catch her out in her tricks.”
    “Isn’t what she did illegal?”
    “In principle: yes. But if we brought charges, she would simply assert that she had made a mistake, and it would be hard to prove otherwise. To Spanchetta, it’s already water under the bridge, and unless I miss my guess, she’ll be scheming and plotting in new directions.”
    “That is insanity!”
    “Insanity or not, be warned and be careful, but don’t let her become an obsession. The world can’t stop because of Spanchetta. You’ve now got lyceum to think about, which will be more than enough to keep you busy, especially with Bureau B’s supplementary work.”
    “When will I start going out on patrols?”
    “That’s a long way off. First there’s the matter of your flying permit, then your special training. Of course, if some emergency comes up anything can happen.”
    “By emergency, you mean the Yips.”
    “I don’t see how to avoid it. Every day there are more Yips with no place to go but Yipton.”
    “Then you really think there will be trouble.”
    Scharde considered before responding. “It’s not inevitable, if proper decisions are made and made soon. Already the Yip Oomphaw is starting to act oddly, as if he knows something we don’t.”
    “Is that possible? What could he know?”
    “Probably nothing, unless he’s been talking with the Fairness and Peace people at Stroma.”
    “I’ve never heard of them.”
    “They are a political faction among the Naturalists. We have, essentially, two options: to capitulate and abandon the Conserve, or to maintain order by whatever means is necessary.”
    “That doesn’t seem a hard choice to make.”
    “Not at Bureau B. We believe that sooner or later the Yips must be vacated from Lutwen Atoll and be resettled off-world. In terms of the Charter, no other solution is possible.” Scharde gave his head a gloomy shake. “The hard facts are that our opinions have little force. We are agents of the Society at Stroma. It’s the Society’s problem