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you really know something to keep him quiet, Hallow?"
"Nope. But my experience is that most men of his age have something they'd rather not have known.
Anyway, you've got to take a strong line with these blackmailers, or they'll raise no end of hell. Of
course, my son,we hope the good Lord will show our erring brother the folly of his sinful ways, don't
we?" Park winked.
* * *
Being a bishop entailed much more than putting on a one-hour performance at the cathedral every
Sunday, as Park soon learned. But he transacted as much of his episcopal business as he could at home,
and put the rest onto Cooley. He didn't yet feel that his impersonation was good enough to submit to
close-range examination by his swarm of subordinates.
While he was planning his next step, an accident unexpectedly opened the way for him. He had just
settled himself in the Isleif Street apartment the evening of Tuesday April 26th, when a young man rang
his doorbell. It took about six seconds to diagnose the young man as a fledgling lawyer getting a start on
a political career as a precinct worker.
"No," said Park, "I won't sign your petition to nominate Thane Hammar, because I don't know him. I've
just moved here from Dakotia. But I'd like to come around to the clubhouse and meet the boys."
The young man glowed. "Why don't you? There's a meeting of the precinct workers tomorrow night,
and voters are always welcome."
* * *
The clubhouse walls were covered with phoney Viking shields and weapons. "Who's he?" Park asked his
young lawyer through the haze of smoke. "He" was a florid man to whom several were paying
obsequious attention.
"That's Trigvy Darling, Brahtz's parasite." Park caught a note of dislike, and added it to the new card in
his mental index file. Brahtz was a Diamond thingman from a western province, the leader of the
squirearchy. In this somewhat naive culture, a gentleman had to demonstrate his financial standing by
supporting a flock of idle friends, or deputy gentlemen. The name of the parasite was not merely
accurate, but was accepted by these hangers-on without any feeling of derogation.
Through the haze wove an unpleasantly familiar angular figure. Park's grip on the edge of the table
automatically tightened. "Haw, Morrow," said Figgis, and looked at Park. "Haven't I met you
somewhere?"
"Maybe," said Park. "Ever live in Dakotia?"
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Morrow, the young lawyer, introduced Park as Park. Park fervently hoped his disguise was thick
enough. Figgis acknowledged the introduction, but continued to shoot uneasy little glances at Park. "I
could swear " he said. Just then the meeting was called. Although it would have driven a lot of people
to suicide from boredom, Park enjoyed the interplay of personalities, the quick fencing with parliamentary
rules by various factions. These rules differed from those he was used to, being derived from those of the
ancient Icelandic Thing instead of the English Parliament. But the idea was the same. The local members
wanted to throw a party for the voters of the hide (district). A well-knit minority led by the parasite
Darling wanted to save the money for contribution to the national war chest.
Park waited until the question was just about to be put to a vote, then snapped his fingers for the
chairman's attention. The chairman, an elderly dodderer, recognized him.
"My friends," said Park, lurching to his feet, "of course I don't know that I really ock to say anything,
being just a new incomer from the wilds of Dakotia. But I've always voted Diamond, and so did my
father and his father before him, and so on back as far as therewas any Diamond Party. So I think I can
claim as solid a party membership as some folks who live in New Belfast three months out of the year,
and spend the rest of their time upholding the monetary repute of certain honorable country thanes."
Park, with satisfaction, saw Darling jerk his tomato-colored face around, and heard a few snickers.
"Though," he continued, "taking the healthy skin you get from country life, I don't know but what I envy
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