Nuance in New York

Off to New York, to see my son Sebastian's new line of Fall clothes. Somehow Sir Harry had heard of this (Harry is good at hearing things) and asked me to transport something to one Lin Po. He of Chinese Intelligence.

"You have met before, I think." Sir Harry said.

"Yes. In Nome. At the Idatrod. Where the husky was wounded." I could sense Harry shuddering.

"That was unfortunate, and best forgotten," he said abruptly. "Now a very small package should arrive within the hour. Normally I would use diplomatic channels, but this is --"

"Extremely sensitive, and probably well off the official record," I interrupted. "But since America has started its little Homeland Security adventure, this will take some ingenuity. And double the fee. Or some help in obtaining that sugar beet concession in Kent."

Sir Harry sighed, "Given the state of Her Majesty's Government right now, I'll opt for the fee. Do well."

And that was that. The package duly arrived, a small marble about a half inch in diameter, containing God knows what in microchip format. So off I went, and there was no problem at customs. Women simply have a myriad of places to hide stuff on, or in, their persons, and it would take something much more elaborate than an airport scanner to detect where that marble was secreted. Smiling sweetly at the wand-waving airport officer just helped everything along.

After a nice lunch at Sardis, it was off to Sebastian's, where I purchased a number of items, including a sheath dress that was made out of some vegetable thingy and was entirely edible. This raised a number of intriguing possibilities, something I would explore with the Comte de Rienville. And soon.

Arrangements with meeting Lin Po involved the Rockefeller Center, and I duly arrived there, or at 30 Rock as it was better known. At least since Tina Fey's TV show. I have never met the woman, although I admire her work. I have, however, met her doppelganger, Sarah Palin. ("I can see everything from my house!") In fact, it had been Palin who had wounded the husky mentioned above. Contrary to her PR, she is a terrible shot. But I digress.

A limo pulled up, and out popped the chauffeur. This was, of course, Lin Po himself, he being no slouch at being perceived as a non-entity. We chatted at the side of the limo, knowing that the diplomatic plates would keep the N.Y.P.D. at bay. At least for a short time. I have found over the years that you can push the N.Y.P.D. a bit. But only a bit. Then they push back. Hard. So Lin and I had better be quick.

I gave him the marble, for which he proffered thanks.

"And my best to Sir Harry, as well." he added. "And I have something for you. It should fit on your fourth finger, right hand."

Does his homework, does Lin Po. And the ring was beautiful, an iridescent opal centered by four tiny golden clasps.

"Might I ask --"

"You may. The information in the opal contains certain land holdings that may be favourable for sugar beet growth. You would still have to go through official channels, but this data will save you considerable time in research. And any proposal would be looked at kindly."

"As, no doubt, would my value as a conduit."

Lin Po's expression did not change, and, not for the first time, I thought that the expression 'po-faced' had originated with him, or at least one of his ancestors. "As for future value," he said, "that's as may be. It could be that things are slowly getting out of control, and the relay of essential information will become crucial. As Louis XIV put it, "Apres moi le deluge."

"Wrong," I said with some heat. "It was not even Louis XV, as most sources relate, but his mistress, Jeanne-Antoinette Poisson, better known as Madame de Pompadour. And what she actually said was 'Apres nous le deluge'. This is the sort of thing that happens when men write the history books. Check it out."

Lin Po said, "I had forgotten your penchant for details."

"Details like liberty, brotherhood, and equality."

"Now Lady Simone," Lin replied as he re-entered his vehicle, "let us not carp. And as for liberty, wasn't it the American, Will Rogers as I recall, who wrote 'Liberty doesn't work as well in practice as it does in speeches?'"

Then he drove away. With Lin Po, you had to be satisfied with a draw.