‘What do you mean?’ cried Castor. ‘Do you think this is funny?’

‘Yes,’ grinned Ucho. ‘And there it is—your other favourite sentence. Maybe I should be counting that one as well.’

‘All right, enough!’ said Father. ‘Let us be done with this bickering!’

‘Yes, yes!’ said Castor, ‘It is what I have been saying all along, Father, but Ucho fails to understand! We fight among ourselves, and all the while, Vail’s following grows by the day.’

‘We have more pressing problems to worry about than Vail,’ said Father.

‘But he seeks to depose you!’

‘Perhaps, but if he does, it will be the will of the people and I shall have nothing to say about it.’

Ucho made a rude noise. ‘Vail!’ he said. ‘Vail is a charlatan with a silver tongue, nothing more. The people will see that.’

‘No, Ucho,’ said Castor, ‘You are wrong. The people see only what is shown to them and Vail shows them hope.’

‘False hope!’

‘But hope nonetheless. And more than that. He gives them confidence, makes them feel empowered, as if they can change everything as long as they stick together. It is a false dawn, a rooster crowing at a flashlight, but a man will choose a beautiful shadow over an ugly body any day.’

‘A man like you, perhaps. Although might I point out you already have the ugly body. Still better than the face, though.’

‘I refuse to be baited by you any longer. And the fact of the matter is that Vail pledges change. And believe me, the people want change. Things are worse than ever.’

‘You sound like he’s won you over already! Like one of his groupies!’

‘Certainly not, or I would not be sitting here. But it is always wise to understand your enemy, and I believe I understand Vail. He plays on the strength of numbers, while giving the impression he desires nothing for himself. I have heard him speak. He never even uses the word “I”. It is always “we”.’

‘And what’s that got to do with anything?’

‘Everything, if you’re not a cretin who’d rather break heads than use his own, with no sensibility or—’

‘Don’t talk to me about sensibilities! I collect art! What do you collect besides enemies?’

‘I personally wouldn’t call those bits of rock art, especially in public. Which reminds me, that man of yours outside with the sour disposition was trying to bring in some little masterpiece of yours earlier today.’

Ucho nodded. ‘Yes, the Calista. It needed some work.’

‘What a pretentious name. Anyway, whatever you call it, your fellow didn’t have an entry permit for it. I have had it impounded.’

‘You’ve what?’

‘Didn’t he tell you? Perhaps he feared a reaction like this one.’

‘How dare you?’ shouted Ucho. He had gone red. ‘How dare you?’