He nodded, staring at the dice on the table. "If I wasn't so sure you can help me develop my TK, Lefty," he said, "I'd never do this. All right, sneak her down here and I'll get her to PC some weather information for a month or so." "Weather?" I said. "Why the weather?" "You'll see when I show the results," he said. "Roll those dice again. I swear I felt your lift that last time." I made a few other calls around the building to catch up on what had been going on while I was in Nevada. Our formal organization is lousy, because Maragon is a one-man show. You just have to rely on gossip, what the CV's pick up and what leaks by telepathy, to know all the internal politics of the Lodge. I wouldn't want you to think that Psi's are more devious or Machiavellian than normals, but sometimes they act it. By the time I reached up to tap on Pheola's door, it opened in front of me, and a stylishly dressed young lady came out, smiling, with Pheola standing in the doorway behind her. "Lefty!" Pheola said happily. "Is this your fiancé?" the girl said to Pheola. "No!" I said. "I'm her chiropractor, and I'm about to straighten out some vertebrae in her neck!" Something about the way I said it made the girl from the department store scuttle down the corridor. I glared at her back, went into Pheola's apartment and shut the door. "What were you telling her?" I started, and then I knew there was no point to it. I waved an irritated hand and kept on talking. "When will your clothes be here?" "Some things for tonight in about an hour," she said meekly. "I got quite a lot. Was that all right?" "If you keep shooting off your puss about our getting married, you won't last long enough to wear them all," I threatened. "Can you find Room 4307, or will I have to take you down?" "I can find it if you want me to, Lefty," she said. I was sick of being her darlin' Billy. "Then find it," I said. "Ask for Norty. Tell him you are my PC. Do what he tells you. I'll pick you up around seven o'clock back here. All right?" "All right."
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