Sensing reprieve, Issam drew himself up, indignantly shrugged away Anacho's hands. "The information is valuable. How much will you pay?"

Reith nodded to Anacho. "Proceed."

Issam gave a heart-rending wail. "No, no! Trade me my life for your three lives-is that not enough?"

"If such be the case."

"It is the case. Stand back, then; remove the noose."

"Not until we know the kind of bargain we are making."

Issam looked from face to face and saw nothing to encourage him. "Well, then, secret word has come to me. The Dirdir are in a state of frothing fury. Someone has destroyed an unlikely number of hunting parties, and stolen the booty-as much as two hundred thousands' worth of sequins. Special agents are on watch-here and elsewhere. Whoever submits any information will derive great benefit. If you are the person of the case, as I suspect, you will never leave Maust except in prickle-collars-unless I help you."

Reith asked cautiously, "Help us how?"

"I can and will save you-for a price."

Reith looked toward Anacho, who drew taut the cord. Issam clawed at the constriction, eyes bulging in the lamplight. The noose loosened. Issam croaked,

"My life for yours, that is our bargain."

"Then talk no more of 'price.' Needless to say, don't try to trick us."

"Never, never!" croaked Issam. "I live or die with you! Your life is my life! We must leave now. Morning will be too late."

"Leave how? Afoot?"

"It may not be necessary. Make yourselves ready. Do those bags and parcels actually contain sequins?"

"Scarlets and purples," said Anacho with sadistic relish. "If you want the same, go into the Zone and kill Dirdir."

Issam shuddered. "Are you ready?" He waited impatiently while the three resumed their garments. On sudden thought he dropped down to rifle the corpse of the servant and clucked with satisfaction at the handful of clears and milks he found in the pouch.

The three were ready. In spite of Issam's protest Anacho maintained the noose around his neck. "So that you will not misunderstand our intentions."

"Must I always be cursed with suspicious associates?"

The main avenue of Maust vibrated with movement, the shift of faces, colored lights; from the taverns came wailing music, drunken belches of laughter, an occasional angry outcry. By furtive shortcuts and dark detours Issam took them to a stable at the north of town, where a scowling attendant finally responded to Issam's pounding. Five minutes of surly haggling resulted in the saddling of four leap-horses; ten minutes later, as the moons of Az and Braz simultaneously rolled up the eastern sky, Reith, Anacho, Traz and Issam bounded north on the gaunt white leaphorses of Kachan, and left Maust behind.

Through the night they rode and at dawn entered Khorai. Smoke trickling up from iron chimneys drifted north over the First Sea, which by some trick of light appeared as black as a sea of pitch, with the plum-colored northern sky for a backdrop.

Through Khorai they pounded and down to the harbor where they dismounted. Issam, wearing the most modest of smiles, bowed to Reith, hands folded behind his dark red gown. "I have achieved my goal; my friends have been delivered safe to Khorai."

"The friends you hoped to strangle a few hours ago."

Issam's smile became tremulous. "That was Maust! One's behavior in Maust must be tolerated."

"As far as I am concerned, you may return."

Issam bowed low once more. "May nine-headed Sagorio maim your enemies! So now, farewell!" Issam took the pale leaphorses back through Khorai and disappeared to the south.

The sky-car rested where they had left it. As they climbed aboard, the harbormaster looked on with a saturnine sneer, but made no comment. Mindful of Khor truculence the three took pains to ignore his presence.

The sky-car rose into the morning sky, curved along the shore of the First Sea.

So began the first stage of the journey to Sivishe.

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE SKY-CAR FLEW west. To the south spread a vast dusty desert; to the north lay the First Sea. Below and ahead mudflats alternated with promontories of sandstone in a monotonous succession, one beyond the other, into the haze at the limit of vision.

Traz slept the sleep of sheer exhaustion. Anacho, to the contrary, sat unconcerned and careless, as if fear and emergency were foreign to his experience. Reith, though he ached with fatigue, could not wrench his gaze away from the radar-screen, except to search the sky. Anacho's carefree manner at last became exasperating. Reith glared at him through red-rimmed eyes and spoke in a dour voice: "For a fugitive you show surprisingly little apprehension. I admire your composure."

Anacho made an easy gesture. "What you call composure is childlike faith. I have become superstitious. Consider: we have entered the Carabas, killed dozens of First Folk and carried off their sequins. So now, how can I take seriously the prospect of casual interception?"

"Your faith is greater than mine," growled Reith. "I expect the whole force of the Dirdir system to be scouring the skies for us."

Anacho gave an indulgent laugh. "That is not the Dirdir way! You project your own concepts into the Dirdir mind. Remember, they do not look upon organization as an end in itself; this is a human attribute. The Dirdir exists only as himself, a creature responsible only to his pride. He cooperates with his fellows when the prospect suits him."

Reith shook his head skeptically, and went back to studying the radar-screen.

"There must be more to it than that. How does the society hold together? How can the Dirdir sustain long-term projects?"

"Very simple. One Dirdir is much like another; there are racial forces which compel all alike. In great dilution, the submen know these forces as

'tradition,' 'caste authority,' 'zest to overachieve'; in the Dirdir society they become compulsions. The individual is bound to customs of the race. Should a Dirdir need assistance he need only cry out hs'ai hs'ai, hs'ai and he is helped. If a Dirdir is wronged, he calls dr'ssa dr'ssa, dr'ssa and commands arbitration. If the arbitration fails to suit him he can challenge the arbitrator, who is usually an Excellence; if he defeats the arbitrator, he is vindicated. More often he himself is defeated; his effulgences are plucked out and he becomes a pariah ... There are few challenges of arbitration."

"Under such conditions, the society would seem to be highly conservative."

"This is the case, until there is need for change, and then the Dirdir applies himself to the problem with 'zest to over-achieve.' He is capable of creative thinking; his brain is supple and responsive; he wastes no energy upon mannerism. Multiple sexuality and the 'secrets' of course are a distraction, but like the hunt they are a source of violent passion beyond human comprehension."

"All this to the side, why should they give up the search for us so easily?"

"Is it not clear?" demanded Anacho testily. "How could even the Dirdir suspect that we fly toward Sivishe in a sky-car? Nothing identifies the men sought at Smargash with the men who destroy Dirdir in the Carabas. Perhaps in time a connection will be made, if, for example, Issam the Thang is questioned. Until then they are ignorant that we fly a sky-car. So why put up search-screens?"

"I hope you're right," said Reith.

"We shall see. Meanwhile-we are alive. We fly a sky-car in comfort. We carry better than two hundred thousand sequins. Notice ahead: Cape Braize! Beyond lies the Schanizade. We will now alter course and come down upon Haulk from above.

Who will notice a single sky-car among a hundred? At Sivishe we will mingle with the multitude, while the Dirdir seek us across the Zhaarken, or at Jalkh, or out on the Hunghus tundra."