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disappearance because, while he certainly did not encourage
customers, he kept his store neat, tidy, and up to the highest standards.
William Oliphant, XXXIV took over after his uncle was carted away to jail, but
his laziness, rude tongue, and uncivil appearance have driven away even the
most loyal of customers and reflected poorly on the family's extensive and revered
history.
    The community stands
behind Auvek Oliphant, XXXVII's decision to infiltrate the history of William Oliphant, bookseller and coax it back to its original glory.
    *****
    “John,” Quin said. “Where’s that talkative graduate student
of yours?”
    “Misty? She’s not talkative, just very loquacious. Oh wait,
those mean the same thing!” John chuckled at his own joke.
    “Where is she?”
    “Probably in the graduate student offices. She hasn’t left since you told her to go to the couch room. Did you get her a
position?”
    “Yes, and Tom has approved it.”
    They began to stroll down the hall towards the offices.
    “I hate this hallway,” Quin muttered.
    Flowers covered the walls. Not only were huge pink pankr
blossoms painted on top of a background of green leaves, but real pankr
blossoms grew in pots all the way down the hallway.
    “You just don’t like pink,” John said.
    “Perhaps,” Quin growled, “but remember that time I was being
chased by a Smelterwick on Tranklae? I jumped into a patch of pankr flowers
because Smelterwicks are allergic to them. I was trapped in there for nine
hours, while he paced and grunted and poked the patch with sticks, and drooled enough green slime for an army of them.”
    “Okay, okay,” John said, patting Quin on the back. “I
understand. You have deep psychological issues. This is probably something you
should address with the in-house psychologist.” He smirked. “If a Smelterwick doesn’t come and get you while you’re
sleeping.”
    Quin elbowed John in the ribs and opened the door to the
graduate student offices just as John said, “OW,” in a very loud voice.
    “Misty,” Quin boomed.
    She jumped up out of her chair in the back of the room.
“Here sir, near sir!” she exclaimed, standing at attention and trying not to
look at Quin.
    “No rhyming,” Quin ordered, and led her across the corridor
and into John’s office. “Sit.”
    John sat at his desk, kicked his feet up, and began to play
with a Rubik’s cube. Misty sat very stiffly across from him, while Quin
repeatedly paced the length of the room.
    “You now have an internship with Chair Rizinski,” he said.
“Pay attention to everything. Listen for clues about Chair Aderick’s death,
look for papers, eavesdrop on discussions—anything .
Pick through trash if you have to. If they ask you to spy on us, agree to it
because you’re annoyed that we won’t give you a travel visa. We’ll feed you
enough to keep them busy.
    “It’s crucial that you tell us everything you find out, no
matter how insignificant it might seem. We will provide a secure server for you
to upload information to. And try to keep informed about his schedule.
    “Do not ever break cover,” Quin finished. He slammed a
manual on the table. “This is a book on how to not break cover. Read it.
Memorize it. Do it.”
    “Oh hey, Misty,” John said cheerfully. “You know that new
guy Aderick just instated? Before he died, obviously. Um, what’s his name—Gibson! The decorator kitchen guy. Keep an eye on him too, since he’s new to the council.”
    “Y-yes, sir,” Misty stammered. “What if I’m caught, if they
find out I’m bought?”
    “We’ll get you out of jail,” John said. “Don’t worry. We
have special provisions for people in these types of situations. Just don’t do this for a non-government organization. We’re
allowed to spy on each other, but if you’re feeding information outside—well,
that would be stupid.”
    “Better yet, don’t get caught.” Quin scowled. “And quit
rhyming.” He turned towards the door. “You