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'Eh, maybe so,' said Voreese. 'But anything less heinous than that should be left for the living to ponder over, don't you think?'

'Perhaps,' said Garovel, 'but I know a rather large amount of reapers who would disagree with you on that particular point.'

'So do I,' said Voreese.

Hanton cut in. 'And I know even more who would only SAY they agreed with you.'

That left a stinging silence in its wake, until Voreese gave a small chortle. 'You know that many reapers, do you? Because I'm pretty sure I know more of 'em than you.'

Hanton made no response.

'I gotta say, though,' Voreese went on, 'I appreciate you havin' the guts to speak your mind. It's the ones who don't that ya really gotta watch out for. So feel free to talk as much shit as you like while I'm around, Mr. Bird. It's what I live for, in fact.'

"It really is," added Roman.

'That is an admirable quality,' said Hanton. 'I think.'

'Thanks.'

'In that vein, please do not call me Mr. Bird again.'

'Aw, c'mon. It's a code name! Since we're in foreign territory! Makes total sense!'

The Lord Gaoalanet just gave a telepathic grumble.

Garovel pushed the conversation onward again. 'So is there anything else we should know about the President?'

'Nothing I would consider terribly urgent,' said Hanton. 'If there were, I--' Hanton cut himself off. 'Someone approaches.'

And indeed, when Hector checked more closely on what the Scarf was telling him, he could sense a lone figure walking briskly toward their group from the direction of the main building. He turned to face the apparent attendant as the man came a stop and gave a hasty bow.

"Lord Goffe. A call for you. Queen Helen of Atreya."