released his grip. âAll rightâ¦Thank you.â
âNo problem, Major. No problem.â
He looked at the approaching Ecolitan, then back at the driver. âAnd thank you for the scenic tour.â
âAnytime, Major.â She was already looking at the driveway before her.
Jimjoy closed the door and straightened, absently deciding that, even had he been in uniform, a salute would have somehow been improper.
âHonored to meet you,â he stated, with what might have passed for a slight bow to the slender man who stood waiting.
The Ecolitan seemed several centimeters taller than Jimjoy, but whether the differential was created by an effortlessly perfect carriage or by actual physical dimensions, Jimjoy wasnât immediately certain.
âThe honor is mine, Major Wright. It is not often we receive Imperial officers here at our isolated and rather provincial outpost of erudition.â
The statement was delivered by the lightly tanned man without even the hint of a smile, although Jimjoy thought he caught the hint of a twinkle in the dark green eyes as the Prime extended his hand. âWelcome to the Institute.â
âPleased to be here. Not certain I had all that much choice, under the circumstances, but look forward to learning all about the Institute.â
âWe would be more than pleased to offer what we have, although what you find may not be what you seek.â
âMysteries within mysteries,â noted Jimjoy with a shrug.
The Prime smiled. âNo mysteries. My name is Samuel. Samuel Lastborne Hall. I am called Ecolitan Hall, Prime, Supreme Obfuscator, and other terms less endearing. Also Sam, mostly by dear friends and enemies.â
âPleased to meet you, Sam.â Jimjoy nodded again. âIâve also been called by a number of names.â
âCurrentlyâ¦Jimjoy Earle Wright, Major, Imperial Service, or Hale Vale White, unemployed pilot?â
âWhichever you prefer. Iâd prefer not to acknowledge anything.â
âI trust you will not object if we use your real name, Major Wright.â
Jimjoy felt as though he were fencing on the edge of a cliff, rather than standing on a gray stone walkway lined with a flowered hedge, and bathed in a weak sunshine that struggled through the high, thin clouds.
âCanât control what you acknowledge,â he finally admitted with a smile.
Jimjoy realized that the groundcar had not left, even though he had shut the door.
âWe need to continue our talk, Major, but itâs rather impolite to keep you standing here. My office is not far.â
The Prime Ecolitan turned.
Jimjoy followed.
As the two men headed back toward the low two-storied, stonewalled building, the electrocar began to whine as it rolled away toward its storage spot or next assignment. Jimjoy wondered when he would run across Mera again, or if he would.
The main doors to the Institute building, simply carved, were the old-fashioned manual type. No automatic portals for the Ecolitans.
Holding one open for Jimjoy, the Prime used just his fingertips, indicating the apparently well-designed counterbalancing of the heavy wood.
Jimjoy stepped through, then slowed to wait for his escort.
âMy spaces are at the head of those stairs.â
The air was as fresh as that outdoors, if slightly cooler, and the stone underfoot was identical to that of the outdoor walkway except for the wax or plastic film that protected the interior stone and imparted a faint sheen.
Heavy, open wooden slabs, smoothed to a satin finish and protected with a transparent coating that neither was slick nor showed any signs of wear, composed the stairs.
Despite his intentionally heavy tread, Jimjoy could feel absolutely no give in the three-meter-wide staircase. He did not nod to himself at the craftsmanship, but added that assessment to those of the doors and the stonework.
Double doors to the Primeâs office stood open, and the Prime made
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