improvementsSecret Burial Committeespecial advisorsThe Blind Beak knew where he was going because he had been one of the special advisors. His cane searched out the kerb occasionally, but this was more from habit than anything else. He walked slowly and surely down through the crypts, and when he had reached the end of the row, he turned left automatically and made for a vast, squat bunker of a building, partially hidden from sight by the enormous branches of a giant Redwood tree. The Blind Beak approached the building and stopped outside a pair of iron doors. They were beautiful. He ran a hand over the metal surface and was amazed and even perplexed; something so intricate and delicate had ended up in such a place as this. He removed the tiny key he had wrapped in his handkerchief and in
