Heading Uptown • Anaxas/Vienda
On the 5th of Intas, 2719 • Evening
Still, the words were filed away. He'd figure them out sometime when he needed to antagonize the other fellow -- which was certainly not right now.
His impassivity ebbed slightly; he gave a smile to his carriage companion. But it was a tight one, no humor lacing the expression whatsoever. "My resources are those of any other journalist in my position, Mr. Vauquelin," he said, and it wasn't a lie at all. "And I recognize the value of discretion, especially when it comes to what sounds very much like emergency information."
Already, though, he was working over what this could be. If it was important and it concered humankind, and it needed to get out before the Vyrdag, then what in clocking hell was it? His stomach tightened a little as a pageant of ideas started to take shape in his head of what the galdor might tell him. None of the scenarios that danced through his brain were ones he remotely wanted to see happen. "You know," he added, "I could have used a real drink back there, not that damned brandy." Maybe he could get as drunk as Vauquelin had, and drown his sorrows away -- but wait. What sorrows did Vauquelin have? His tearaway daughter was safely ensconced at Brunnhold. The second one was perhaps a trifle slow, but that happened sometimes. Hardly a cause for drink. Whatever had driven Vauquelin to the bottle, even knowing Adam would show up...
Man, woman, wick, and golly. A strange arrangement of priorities. But no, he'd know for sure if Vauquelin was Resistance. He would have been warned off cultivating the relationship, at the very least. So why hadn't the galdor put himself first? It nagged at him as much as the speech had. He'd have to find out. But later, he reminded himself. It wasn't important right now.
"Please, Anatole." A risky move, that, assuming some level of familiarity. But he kept his tone somber, rather than airy. He wasn't taking liberties at all, his voice suggested. "Expediently but at your leisure, as they say."
His hands rested on his knees before himself. The carriage rolled on, moving further away from the Lantern. The roads widened some; the buildings grew further apart. They were entering enemy territory for Adam -- and now he couldn't even be sure what Vauquelin thought of the geography either.