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and nand’ Bren’s cabin had had a whole hanging curtain of green and white striped plants, and just thinking about it had always made him happy. He suddenly had a vision of plants in his rooms.
His
rooms. And plants were not antiquities, and they could not possibly be outside the rules.
    “One will make a note of that, young lord,” the supervisor said, and was busy writing, while Cajeiri peered under an oddly shaped lump of canvas. “One will notify the florists’ office.”
    One was sure it would happen. He paid no more attention to that problem. He saw filigreed brass. And there proved to be more and more of it as he pulled on the old canvas, canvas that tore as he pulled it, it was so old.
    The brass object was filigree work with doors as tall as he was, a little corroded and green in spots, and it took up as much roomas two armchairs. It was figured with brass flowers that made a network of their stems instead of bars. And it had a brass door, and brass hinges, and a latch, and a floor with trays.
    He worked to get all the canvas off.
    “That is a cage,” the supervisor said. “From the north country. It is, one fears, young gentleman, an antique, seven hundred years old.”
    “But it is brass, nadi!” He
wanted
it. He
so
wanted it. It was big, it was old, and it was weirder than anything in the whole warehouse. It was the sort of thing anybody seeing it had to admire, it was so huge and ornate. And he wanted it to stand in the corner of his sitting room, whatever it was, with light to show it up, with plants all over. “I am not to have
fragile
antiques,” he said. “Brass is different. My mother said I might have brass.”
    The supervisor consulted his papers. “That exception is indeed made, young lord.”
    “Parid’ja, nandi,” Lucasi said quietly. “In such cages, people used to keep them for hunting. They would go up in the trees and get fruit and nuts. And they would dig eggs. That is what this cage was for. To keep a parid’ja.”
    “It is wonderful,” he said. “One wants it, nadi, one truly, truly wants it!”
    “It is quite large,” the supervisor said. “It really does not fit easily within the size requirements.”
    “I still want it, nadi,” he said, and put on his best manners. “One is willing to give up two chairs or the table, but I want it. It can even go in my bedroom if it has to.”
    “In your
bedroom,
young gentleman.”
    “It can stand in a corner, can it not? I shall give up the hanging if I must. I want this above all things, nadi!”
    The supervisor took a deep breath and gave a little bow, then put a tag on the cage and noted it on the list. “One will run the numbers, young gentleman, and assign it a space, if only doors and windows allow.”
    “We
have
no windows, nadi!” For the first time ever, that seemed an advantage. “And not many doors!”
    “Then perhaps it will fit,
with
your chairs and hanging
and
the table. Allow me to work with the problem. One promises to solve it. Meanwhile, search! You may find small items which may delight you.”
    “One is pleased, nadi! Thank you very much!” He used his best manners. He hurried around the circular aisle, taking in everything. Brass meant he could have old things. He picked out a brass enamelware vase as tall as Lucasi. “For the sitting room,” he said.
    That was the last thing he dared add. It was big, but it was big
upward,
and it went with the cage. He was satisfied. “May one come back again, nadi,” he asked, “if one needs other things?”
    “Dependent on your parents’ wishes, yes, young lord, at any time you wish to move a piece out or in, we are always at your service. We store every item a house wishes to discard from its possession. We restore and repair items. We employ artists and craftsmen. Should any of these things ever suffer the least damage, young lord, immediately call us, and we will bring it down to the workshop and make whatever repair is necessary.”
    He bowed, as one