Rook

there, Chumsey. Fancy another brandy? Oh, by the way, damnedest thing. Some arcane group of Belgian mutants that tried to conquer us a couple of centuries ago are coming back to finish the job. Foreigners, eh? Now, where’s the sporting section of the
Times
? Unbelievable.” He had stood up, kicked his feet into the air, and was now balancing on the table on the points of his elbows.
    “Could you please stop that?” asked Myfanwy. “It’s just not pleasant to look at.”
    “Sorry,” said Gubbins, easing himself down to his feet.
    “Now,” said Eckhart. “What do we need to do?”
    “Secure the country,” said Cool Twin, as if it were obvious.
    “Of course! It’s only twelve thousand four hundred and twenty-nine kilometers of coastline,” said Eckhart with withering sarcasm. “Maybe we could mobilize the lighthouse keepers and the fishermen.”
    “We could put the nation on heightened alert,” said Gubbins slowly.
    “We’d have to tell them why,” pointed out Myfanwy.
    “And then we’d need to enlighten the Americans,” said Eckhart. Nobody looked pleased at the prospect.
    “Stop a moment and think,” said Myfanwy. “We are as wellinformed as anybody. Have any of you noticed anything that would prompt you to believe that some sort of invasion is imminent?” They all shook their heads. “So, presumably, we have at least a bit of time. Invading Britain is no small endeavor,” she went on thoughtfully. “We need to gather information on the Grafters. Their activities abroad, and their activities here.
    “We’ll need to assign teams. So far, our one lead is Van Syoc. I know we have a team back at the Rookery cutting him open, so we’ll be able to gather some idea of the Grafters’ current abilities. Sound reasonable?” No one responded, but Gubbins managed to rouse himself to nod before Myfanwy continued.
    “We’ll have to assign another team to trace his movements back and find out exactly where he came from. The Rookery staff will get all the details we have on him and distribute them among us. You two gentlemen,” she said, pointing at Gubbins and Eckhart, “you must have operatives on the Continent whom you can order about. You’ll need to set them chasing down the Grafters. We’ll meet tomorrow morning and coordinate.”
    Myfanwy stood up. “Now, I have had a very long day, I have a splitting headache, and I am going home.” Everyone followed her as she walked out, and hers was the first car to pull up.
    It whisked her away to Myfanwy Thomas’s house.

12
     
    Dear You,
    I’ve realized that I never entirely explained to you how I came to know that I would lose my memory. I mean, I’ve mentioned that there were psychics—but that’s about all I’ve told you. Sorry about that.
    Psychics are not generally held in the highest esteem in the Checquy. I know, it seems like it would be the most common
and
the most useful sort of power around. After all, everyone’s granny is supposed to be able to read tea leaves. And what could be of greater use in the Checquy than knowing what someone else is thinking or what is going to happen in the future? Plus, it would be supremely useful for funding purposes. But in fact, genuine psychics are rarer than rare, and extra difficult to detect.
    “I’m getting an impression… that you’re thinking of…
this!
Am I right? No? Well, does
that
mean anything to you? It does? See, I’m psychic!” Even worse are the vague predictions and prophecies that seem to maybe have come true. If you look at them with your eyes sort of squinted.
    Actually, the most effective psychics are the ones who never realize they’re psychic and instead manage to live excellent lives by consistently making the right decisions. Their powers effectively guide them through the shoals of life without their knowing. And one major shoal tends to be the Checquy. The best psychics pop up on our radar only after they’ve died, when their powers no longer keep them out of our sight.
    There are so many impressive fakes around, and it’s such a vague sort of power anyway, that the Checquy maintains a very skeptical stance. (This is partly the result of a frantic two weeks under a previous Lord during which the members of the entire organization had orders to imprison any tall dark stranger they met.) We’re far more likely to accept that a subject might havethe power to turn people into footstools than that he can read minds or see the future. The closest we’re