There were no guards outside, but once they had crossed the lawn and entered, they had to pass a number of checkpoints. There was an electronic search at the door (Kitrini had to explain to Nolan what it was; he didn’t much care for the invasive tingle along his spine and groin). Then they were shown to a small anteroom, where a burly blond guard interviewed them briefly to ask their names and business. Kitrini translated, but she had made it clear Nolan must participate, so he spoke in a firm voice in bluetongue, and she said whatever she pleased to the guard. They were shown to another waiting room where perhaps thirty people were seated.

“Get comfortable,” Kitrini advised, and settled herself in.

Nolan sat beside her. “Do you usually have to go through such an ordeal when you come to visit Chay?”

“I’ve never come before without an invitation or a kurkalo,” she said. “I cannot come and go as I please. I did give them my name, and the secretary should recognize it, and that may get us in sooner than otherwise, but I don’t know. Be patient.”

Nolan nodded (he had never felt less patient) and looked around him. They were not, he was surprised to see, the only indigo in the room. There were two others, both male, sitting together hunched over what looked like blueprints. There was also an albino sitting on the opposite end of the room, as far as possible from both blueskins and guldmen. He was halfway through a fat book, and Nolan had a vision of him sitting here for days, weeks, months, slowly turning page after page until he had finished it. He wished he had a book of his own to distract him. Here, there was not even landscape to watch, nothing but the thoughts in his head to keep him glum company.

Kitrini had leaned her head against the back of her chair and appeared to be asleep, though Nolan suspected she was dissembling. More likely, she was reviewing what she would say to Chay Zanlan, before whom she was appearing so unexpectedly under such strange circumstances. Nolan wished she would share with him the contents of her introduction, but he was not used to demanding information from any woman, and he felt he had already used this one hard enough.

But no matter what Kitrini said, Chay would listen to him. He had to. This was news that could not be strangled.