“She’s in our department there—Logistics. Not one of your fancy do-nothing departments. She’s been in most of these emergencies—Suez, Lebanon, Cyprus, now here. If I had to go on another mission like this, I’d say Give me Noreen.” Another peanut spun into Clelia Kingslake’s lap. “Rather than any six others.”

“Can you give me an idea of what I’m to do?”

“We all pull our weight here. I don’t know what you do at Headquarters and I don’t care. Here you’ll do anything that comes to hand. Cables, letters, typing, accounts—”

“I can do any of those things.”

“You’ll do all of them. You’ll be in with the Cap.”

“The Cap.”

“Captain Moyers. He’s been seconded from Near East Peace Preservation. Assigned to us as Military Observer, but he’s turned his hand to everything during the crisis. A Canadian like yourself. But a great guy.” The eyes were wandering again, contentiously raking the walls, lingering suspiciously on Primavera. “A rough diamond, but a great guy. He’ll be here any minute. He went out to the airfield to meet Mr. Rees.”

Miss Kingslake pondered. Rees was head of the Logistics Department at Headquarters. “He’s here?”

“Three-day tour of inspection. Oh, all the big brass have been through here this month—the Director-General himself came through, you know, on his way to the trouble spots. Mr. Rees was too busy to come before.”

He pronounced it as if it were all one word, Mysteries. Miss Kingslake, her own gaze wandering, noted that the murals were by Afro. “I don’t want to keep you.” She allowed herself to add, “I’m sure you need your sleep.”

Grilli was leaning forward, his hands splayed over the chair arms. All at once he changed color. He hoisted himself up, vast and padded—it was as if the armchair had come to its feet—and shot out between the glass doors into the lobby.

Mysteries, surmised Clelia Kingslake, signing the bill. She followed. Grilli was bowed over a little cricket of a man, while a military figure strode about the lobby roaring orders in English. When Miss Kingslake came up, Grilli introduced her.

“Mysteries, this is Miss Kingslake, the newest member of the mission.”

Rees shook hands. He looked Miss Kingslake in the eyes and held her gaze. “Miss Kingsley,” he said quietly, “I want you to know that people like you are continually in our minds at Headquarters. Sometimes staff members in the field tend to feel forgotten. Believe me, they couldn’t be more mistaken. I want you to know that it’s fully appreciated, the wonderful work you are doing here.”

“Thank you.”

“Believe me.”