Amaryllis (14 page)

Amaryllis decided it was time to change the subject. “I assume Gifford will be taking over as head of the department?”

“Gifford?” Sarah's dark eyes widened in surprise. “He's not here anymore. Didn't you know?”

“No. I haven't, uh, spoken to him recently.”

“He left the department two months ago. Opened his own focus agency. Took Natalie Elwick with him to run his office. Remember Natalie?”

“She was Irene Dunley's assistant.”

“Right.” Sarah made a face. “Guess Natalie figured she'd never be anything more than a junior secretary as long as Irene Dunley was here, so she took Gifford up on his offer.”

“It's hard to believe that Gifford has gone out into the commercial sphere.”

“I hear his new agency is very exclusive. Employs only full-spectrum prisms and accepts only VIP talents.”

“I see.”

“Is that why you're here today? Did you come to see Gifford?”

“No. I came to see Effie Yamamoto.”

“You'll be glad to know that she's the new acting head of the department. Everyone expects her to be permanently appointed to the position sometime within the next few months.”

“Effie will do a fine job.” Amaryllis made to step past Sarah. “Is she still in her old office?”

“No, she's moved into Landreth's office.” Sarah lifted a hand in farewell. “See you around.”

Amaryllis hurried off down the corridor. A moment later she came to a halt in front of a familiar office. The door was open. Irene Dunley, a tall, sturdily built woman in the
middle of her life, was seated behind an immaculately neat desk. The only paper on the polished surface was the one she was working on at that moment. Everything else, except for the telephone and a single pen, was stored out of sight. Irene had always been a model of organization and efficiency.

Amaryllis smiled at the sight of Irene. The woman was almost as much of a legend in the department as Landreth himself. The professor had often claimed that he could not have run the place without her.

Irene's hair was cut in a crisp, efficient style. Her firm, matronly body was encased in a serviceable blue suit. She looked up at Amaryllis's light knock.

“Miss Lark. This is a surprise.”

“Hello, Irene. I haven't seen you since Professor Landreth's funeral. How are things going?”

“As well as can be expected under the circumstances. There's been an unnecessary amount of disruption and confusion, what with the suddenness of the transition, but I expect to have things under complete control very soon.”

Amaryllis glanced around. “It looks like everything's already under control. That doesn't surprise me. Professor Landreth always used to say that if there was such a thing as a talent for organization, you possessed it.”

Irene smiled sadly. “Professor Landreth had such a dry sense of humor. Very few people appreciated it.”

“What are all those boxes doing there in the corner?”

Irene glanced at the stack. “Those are Professor Landreth's personal effects. I packed them up myself the day after he died. I notified the authorities, but so far no one has come forth to claim them. Is there something I can do for you, Miss Lark?”

Irene did not waste time during office hours, Amaryllis reminded herself. “I came to see Professor Yamamoto.”

“I'll let her know you're here.” Irene pressed the button on the intercom. Miss Amaryllis Lark to see you, Professor Yamamoto.”

Oh, really? What wonderful news! Send her in.”

Amaryllis nodded at Irene and then walked through the door of the inner office. “Hi, Effie.”

“Amaryllis.” Effie rose from behind her desk and held out her hand. “Good to see you. Come on in.”

Amaryllis closed the door, went forward to shake hands, and then sat down. She grinned at her old friend. “Looks like you've come up in the world. Congratulations. About time.”

Effie laughed. “Things have changed around here. Coff-tea?”

“Thanks.”

Effie was several years older than Amaryllis, a distinguished scholar in her late thirties. Her dark eyes gleamed with intelligence. She had an innate sense of style that Amaryllis had always admired. Her black hair was in a sleek, chin-length bob that swung elegantly whenever she turned her head. Her trim, expertly tailored suit somehow managed to appear both professional and extremely fashionable. Amaryllis wondered if she should redo her own wardrobe now that she was making a handsome salary. One night in a flutter dress and a person's taste underwent a drastic change.

“Saw your picture in the paper.” Effie winked. “Looks like your social life has improved considerably.”

Amaryllis felt her cheeks grow warm. “It was a business thing.”

“Ah, yes. Business. Very interesting business from what I saw. So what's the Iceman like in person?”

“He's a class nine, Effie.”

“Oh. Well, so much for any long-term hopes there, hmm?” Effie handed Amaryllis a mug and sat back down behind the wide desk. “Still, that leaves open some short-term possibilities.”

“I don't think so,” Amaryllis said austerely.

“I assume this is not strictly a social call?”

“To be honest, no. I wanted to ask your opinion on something.”

Effie spread her hands. “Ask away.”

“I'll come straight to the point. Have you ever heard of a prism working with a talent for the purpose of focusing charisma?”

“Charisma's not a talent. It's just a natural part of some people's personality.”

“But what if it were a talent?” Amaryllis insisted.

“Well? What of it?”

“A politician could use it to con people into supporting him.”

“Politicians are in the business of conning people into doing just that.” Effie grimaced. “Even if a particular candidate with a high-class talent was able to use a prism to augment an aura of charisma, it wouldn't be illegal.”

“No, I suppose not. But it would definitely be unethical.”

“Since when has politics ever been a model of an ethical profession?”

Amaryllis smiled ruefully. “I know what you mean.” Now that she was actually sitting here with Effie, she was no longer certain quite what to say. She was not sure how to explain the sense of wrongness that she had felt when Lucas had briefly picked up Senator Sheffield's talent. “What if I told you that I think I witnessed a prism assisting a politician to focus charisma?”

Effie gave an eloquent shrug. “I'd say there wasn't much anyone could do about it.”

“What if I told you that I'm almost certain that the prism was trained by Professor Landreth?”

Effie eyed her thoughtfully. “Assuming it can be done at all, a prism would have to be very powerful in order to focus something as vague as a personality trait.”

“This prism was powerful.”

Effie chuckled. “You know as well as I do that Landreth would never have approved of one of his students focusing for deceitful purposes. He would have made a fuss about it if he had discovered what was happening. But that would have been highly unlikely.”

“Because it wouldn't be easily detected?”

“Exactly. How could anyone distinguish between a real personality characteristic and an augmented one?”

“If psychic energy was involved, a strong detector-talent could pick it up,” Amaryllis said cautiously.

“Perhaps, but again, not likely. It would take a strong one. Class-nine or class-ten detectors are extremely rare.”

“But they do exist.”

Effie tilted her head slightly to one side. “You're convinced you encountered a prism working with a politician in an unethical manner, aren't you?”

“Yes.”

“My advice is to forget about it. It would be unethical, but not illegal. Only some anal retentive type such as Professor Landreth would make a stink about it.”

Amaryllis managed not to wince, but it wasn't easy. “Professor Landreth would have been very upset if he thought one of his prisms had violated the Code of Focus Ethics.”

Effie leaned back in her chair. “Just between you and me and ninety-nine point nine percent of the faculty, Landreth was a brilliant man, but he was a fussy old codger.”

“He had very high standards,” Amaryllis said quietly.

“His standards, as you call them, drove the rest of us nuts. Gifford Osterley left the faculty because of him, you know.”

“No, I didn't realize that.”

“Landreth and Gifford got into a major row over changes in the curriculum.” Effie shook her head. Her beautifully cut hair swung in a perfect wave. “Gifford never stood a chance, of course. Landreth outranked him. When the smoke cleared, Gifford handed in his resignation.”

“I see.”

“It may have been for the best. Gifford has his own firm, probably making double what he used to make here. He always was ambitious.”

“The pay is definitely better in the commercial world,” Amaryllis agreed. She got to her feet. “Good-bye, Effie. It was great to see you again. Good luck with the new position.”

“Thanks.” Effie surveyed her office with satisfaction. “I can tell you one thing, things are going to be a different around here.”

“I believe you.” Amaryllis turned and walked into the outer office.

Irene looked up as she went past the desk. “Oh, Miss Lark, there's something I wanted to tell you.”

“What was that?”

Irene cleared her throat discretely and lowered her voice. “Professor Landreth was always so proud of you. He used to tell me that you were the most talented prism he had ever trained.”

Amaryllis took a step closer to the desk, aware of a little twinge of warmth deep inside. “Did he really say that?”

“Yes.” Irene's eyes abruptly glistened with unshed tears. “Everyone around here seems to be glad that he's gone. They all talk about how things are going to change now that the old coot, as they call him, is out of the picture. But I miss him, Amaryllis.”

“Oh, Irene.” Amaryllis went behind the desk and put her arms around the older woman. “I miss him, too.”

Irene turned reverent eyes toward the portrait of Jonathan Landreth that hung on the far wall. “I went to work for him after my husband died, and I was with him for twenty-five years. He was good to me, Miss Lark. He was a little gruff on the outside, but he contributed so much to this department. And he always told me that I was invaluable to him. Invaluable. That was his exact word. He needed me, Miss Lark.”

Amaryllis hugged the older woman's broad shoulders for a few seconds. She felt tears well in her own eyes. “I think we may be the only people who miss him.”

Irene stared at the portrait. “I'm afraid so.”

The phone call came late that afternoon. Byron had already left the office for the day, and Amaryllis was almost out the door. She glanced at the shrilly ringing instrument and debated the wisdom of answering it. It couldn't be Lucas. She was crazy to think that he might call. He had made his opinion of her very clear last night. He wasn't the sort of man who would be attracted to a prissy little prig.

The phone rang again. It was no doubt a business call. Amaryllis's sense of responsibility overcame her odd reluctance to pick up the receiver. She reached for it.

“Psynergy, Inc. Amaryllis Lark speaking.”

There was silence on the other end of the line, but Amaryllis could hear someone breathing.

“Hello? You've reached the offices of Psynergy, Inc. Can I help you?”

“You were a friend of Landreth's.” The words sounded muffled, as though the caller spoke through a thick cloth. It was impossible to tell if the voice belonged to a man or a woman.

“Who is this?” Amaryllis asked sharply.

“If you want to learn the truth about Jonathan Landreth, talk to the woman called Vivien of the Veils.”

Amaryllis gripped the phone very tightly. “Tell me who you are.”

“She's a syn-sex stripper. Works at a nightclub called SynCity. Ask her about Jonathan Landreth if you want to know the truth.”

“Wait. Please, tell me what this is all about.”

The line went dead. The caller had cut the connection.

“Good morning, Mr. Trent. Hobart Batt from Synergistic Connections here. Just thought I'd check in to see if you were having any trouble filling out the registration forms. We had rather expected to have it back by now.”

Lucas tightened his fingers around the phone. He told himself not to lose his temper with the syn-psych counselor. It was unfortunate that Batt's chiding tone set his teeth on edge, but it did not take much to do that this morning.

It was Monday, three whole days since the fiasco in Amaryllis's bedroom. Lucas knew that he ought to be glad that Hobart Batt had called. It was definitely time to get moving on the task of finding a suitable wife. But for some reason it was the last subject he wanted to discuss.