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The king waddled over to a window, where to Borai he pointed out various things below, talking animatedly. A plump, trousered man a little older than Jorianaddressed him.

What is its limit?

We have not been up here in years, heh, heh, said King Ishbahar, raising his voice to be heard above the clatter and splashing. Pray explain this to me, good Master Jorian .

Borai, potbellied, gray-bearded, and kilted, bowed to Jorian , mumbled something that Joriancould not hear, and shot a slit-eyed glare at Karadur.

It is my business cried Amazluek. When I see thee cozening an innocent young foreigner-

Pardon us a moment, said the king. We would speak to him of plans for the city, and where better to discuss such things than this lofty eyrie, whence it is spread out below us like a map?

Your Majesty said one of the gentlemen-a tall, thin man with a pointed gray beard. No offense to Messires Karadur and Jorian , but it were risky to entrust yourself to the car without a bodyguard.

Like the tower, Saghol, the ground-floor lift attendant, had been cleaned up for the occasion. He jerked his cords, and the lift rose, groaning. The squad of guardsmen clattered up the stairs, keeping pace with the lift.

What is its limit?

We have not been up here in years, heh, heh, said King Ishbahar, raising his voice to be heard above the clatter and splashing. Pray explain this to me, good Master Jorian .

Vegh smiled. This is Lord Amazluek, stasiarch of the Kilts. Naturally, he would prefer to enlist you in his-

Excuse me, my lords, said Jorian . I be not up on Irazi politics. Explain, pray.

Excuse me, my lords, said Jorian . I be not up on Irazi politics. Explain, pray.

Ah, well, we cannot diet down in time for this ride. Colonel Chuivir

Permit me, Master Jorian . I am Lord Vegh, stasiarch of the Pants. I see by your garb that you are a person of progressive ideas, like those of my honorable association. When you take out Penembic citizenship, perhaps you would care-

Aye, sire? replied the most glittering soldier of all, a strikingly handsome man as tall as Jorian .

If lift will bear weight, sire, said Jorian .

Detail a squad of the guard to ascend the tower by the stairs, keeping on a level with us as the lift bears us aloft. Pick strong men with sound hearts We would not have them collapse halfway up, heh heh.

Excuse me, my lords, said Jorian . I be not up on Irazi politics. Explain, pray.

At the top, the king got off the lift, which wobbled as his weight left it, and wheezed his way up to the clockwork floor. Jorianfollowed. The soldiers, red-faced, sweating, and gasping, filed into the clockwork chamber after him.

Soliciting a new member already, eh, Vegh? said the tall, thin grandee with the pointed gray beard. Not sporting, you know.

Jorian 's Penembic was now fairly fluent if ungrammatical. With Karadur helping to translate when he got stuck, Joriantold the king about clockwork. While Jorian spoke, several gentlemen, having come up on the second trip of the lift, filed into the chamber.

Like the tower, Saghol, the ground-floor lift attendant, had been cleaned up for the occasion. He jerked his cords, and the lift rose, groaning. The squad of guardsmen clattered up the stairs, keeping pace with the lift.

We have not been up here in years, heh, heh, said King Ishbahar, raising his voice to be heard above the clatter and splashing. Pray explain this to me, good Master Jorian .

Vegh smiled. This is Lord Amazluek, stasiarch of the Kilts. Naturally, he would prefer to enlist you in his-

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