As she watched Norman's carriage disappear into the distance, Moran suddenly sighed.
"There's a story from the East about a king who went hunting and happened upon a remarkably skilled white ape. A soldier shot an arrow at it, but the ape not only dodged the arrow, it caught it and hurled it back at the king. Furious, the king ordered all his soldiers to shoot at once. The white ape could not withstand the arrows falling thick as rain, and it died."
That was the story she told.
Pan Long knew it too, of course, and immediately understood what she meant.
Norman was undoubtedly skilled. But however skilled he was, that was no reason to keep publishing papers on research that "defied common sense," or to speak so recklessly to his students in class.
Once or twice might not matter. But if he angered the government department known as the Suppression Bureau, a devastating blow would likely follow.
When that happened, no amount of skill would save Norman. He would have only one road left: death!
Pan Long nodded. Leaving the subject behind, he asked, "I've only just arrived, so I'm not familiar with London. Is there anyone or anything I should watch out for?"
Moran turned to Ailo. "Ailo knows London better than I do. You can ask him to tell you about it in detail. And if you're willing to stay up tonight, Stone knows quite a bit about the people who keep their days and nights reversed. You can have a long talk with him. Please believe me, I'm not passing the buck. I've spent these past years absorbed in searching the Mansus for the untold secrets of the Histories, and I know very little about the waking world."
When she finished, she glanced at the