Stuttering Uttering Conscience

Now what? says Pablo.

We go to the station, says Gaius, and catch a night train to Paris, before anyone else comes out.

Too late, says Arthur. Here comes another one.

Another young woman comes out.

She wears a shimmering blue raincoat; it's foggy tonight in Antwerp.

I'm glad to have caught you, says the young woman. The committee has sent me.

What is it? asks Gaius. We've a fast train to catch.

Then I shall walk along with you, says the young woman.

Are you on the Twenty Names list? asks Pablo.

He already knows that she is.

Yes, I am Océane Conscience, says the blue shimmering woman.

Conscience? says Gaius. I remember a Conscience. Yes....Hendrik Conscience.

The Lion of Flanders, says Océane. An ancestor of mine. A writer.

This impresses the poets.

Are you a writer? asks Arthur.

No, says Océane. You keep wheeling your bicycles, and I'll keep up with you. The station is near.

I suppose you're a spy, says Arthur.

Oh no, says Océane. A lawyer.

Fascinating, says Gaius. A lawyer. Has this to do with our contract?

It does, replies Océane Conscience. It is most lucky that I am also going to Paris, for the climate talks. I shall travel with you and on the way we shall finalise the contract.

You don't have any luggage, says Arthur.

No, I don't, says Océane. Everything I need is in my handbag, or on my smartphone.

In fact, she does have a large handbag, with a pair of blue tights hanging out.

They trundle to Antwerpen Centraale, where they buy tickets on the Thalys to Paris.

It's not that expensive. Gaius is a senior. Arthur and Pablo pay for 'least comfortable seats', Océane has some sort of railpass.

They are now on the train, relaxing in comfortable seating.

So, says Océane. At the end of five months, I believe you have promised the birds will be proficient in reciting the Twenty Name List.

No, no, says Gaius. It was vaguer than that.

A contract cannot be vague, says Océane. Shall we say five months and two days? Three, if that makes you happy?

Say what you like, says Arthur.

Yes, say what you like, echoes Pablo. He likes watching her lips move.

Océane starts to tap something out on her smartphone.

The dark countryside rolls by outside the fast train.

Ten minutes later:

Gaius is snoozing.

Arthur and Pablo are playing I Spy.

Finished, says Océane Conscience. You must all read it, before you sign.

Arthur skim reads it. Five months and three days, or their money back.  That's never going to happen.

Pablo skim reads it. Océane has a nice turn of phrase. 'Or their money back'. And she seems to undulate gently, even when sitting......

They both sign the contract. How? With a pencil. On a smartphone, that is okay.

Now that just leaves Gaius.

But Gaius is sleeping. He jerks in his sleep. The jerk corresponds to the point in his dream where the bird stutters uttering CONSCIENCE.