“And utter threats in loud voices, no doubt,” said Veswees. “If you’re trying to sneak up on people, you don’t want things that clank or spark or shout.”
“We’re not really trying to sneak . . .”
“What would you call it?”
Jeorfy gave this his complete attention. “I’d call it getting people’s attention modestly, politely, occasioning no alarm.”
Veswees smiled only slightly. “Clank or no clank, I can’t imagine any of these creatures entering a village without occasioning alarm. The less alarm the better, however, so the villagers can give the messengers a fair hearing.”
“It’s good there were so many machines that can talk,” agreed Jeorfy. “But I wish you’d allowed me a little more variety in their modes of speech.”
“Clarity was most important,” Veswees said firmly. “Declamations in foreign accents or complicated verse forms would not have helped!” Veswees stared after the retreating forms, now vanishing in the dark. “I hope to heaven we’ve programmed them correctly. I shudder to think what may happen otherwise.”
“CertainlyI programmed them correctly,” said Jeorfy, indignantly. “Even though I’d never tried it before it came quite naturally to me. I did it correctly. I think.”
Veswees sighed deeply. “You think?”
“I’m quite sure,” Jeorfy tittered, hugging himself. “Oh, Veswees, if you could see your face!”
“I’m tired, Jeorfy. When you tease me it makes me wonder how it could have sounded like such a good idea when Genevieve told me about the robots down there . . . and about you.”
Jeorfy’s face lit up. “Genevieve! Now, that should relieve your mind completely.”
“How so?”
He stood, adopting a declamatory posture: “Genevieve sees the future, dark or bright? So she’s already seen my programming, right? And she wouldn’t have told you to come find me, unless I’d done or would do it successfully!”
Veswees laughed, though briefly, all he had strength for. The past days had been overfull of travel, exploration and mental strain. Finding Jeorfy. Finding the machines. Using the huge cargo machines to widen the way out. Making lists. Determining which would go where, when! Composing and re-composing the message! Jeorfy’s talking in verse only complicated things. “Genevieve also told me you’d given up rhyming.”
“I have. Mostly.” Jeorfy pulled at the closest pile of materials the cargo machines had carried outside over the last few days, tugging out a gold-framed mirror that he propped against a topless packing case. The case held the desiccated body of an old, old man with his arms tightly curled around an empty jar. When they had found him in the caverns he had had a very complicated little code book in the pocket of his dusty trousers and he had also been wearing the dented crown that Jeorfy now wore tilted over his left eye.
“What shall we do with him?” Jeorfy asked, indicating the dried-up body.
“Fasten the top on that box and bury him,” said Veswees. “I still say he’s the Lord Paramount. No one else would have had that crown. Or that code book.”
“What would the Lord Paramount have been doing in the darkest corner of the bottommost cavern? And how did he get there?” “Maybe your friend Zebulon Coffin put him there.”
“We found Zeb where the pile of stuff fell on him—poetic justice, since he’s the one who stacked it off balance in the first place! There was nothing left of him but lizard-gnawed bones, so he died long before this one. And all the access routes were locked, so no one could have gotten in. . . .”
“Probably the Lord Paramount got in before the computers locked. Probably he’s the one who locked them,” Veswees mused.
“That would explain the code book,” Jeorfy agreed, “though I didn’t know the Lord Paramount had anything to do with the files personally . .”
The tiny notebook, though it was full of codes for this and that and the other thing, had not included any reference to the secret elevator. The Lord Paramount had never, ever written down anything about the elevator, and only one person now living knew anything about it.
“… but whoever he was, the book gives us total access to the files,” crowed Jeorfy, as he’d been doing since discovering it. He straightened the crown and posed before the mirror. “Oh, what we’ll find out.”