The Venom Trees of Sunga

III – The Unriu Express

Two days later, Epsilon Eridani had not yet risen when Kirk Salazar reached the railway station. Carrying Salazar's duffel bag, Choku followed. Salazar had stored some of his gear at Levontin's.

Other members of the Patel Society's field trip stood on the platform, stamping and waving their arms against the pre-dawn chill. Terran passengers clustered beside the last car of the Unriu Express. This was the only car showing an attempt to meet Terran standards of comfort, having a roof over its red-painted body. A passenger car for Kooks was merely a flatcar with a railing around its deck. Kooks thought nothing of standing for hours, clutching the rail, or squatting on the deck, swaying with the motion.

The car before the Terran or "soft-fare" unit was an unrailed flatcar whereon four Kook station workers were piling passengers' baggage. Having given Salazar's bag to the workers, Choku said:

"Honorable boss, I understand not why you Terrans need to travel with such mountainous masses of luggage. I have gone all over Sunga and the mainland with no more gear than I now have in my pouches."

"Just a point of Kukulcanian superiority," said Salazar. "In my case, however, the fact that I have to lug some scientific instruments and recording devices gives me an excuse." He approached the Ritters, asking: "Will Cantemir be with us today? It might make things a bit sticky."

"Don't worry," said Hilbert Ritter. "George has more brass than a samovar, but this time he won't be around. Yesterday he bought four jutens, for himself and his three Kooks, and took off early for Sungara. He'd have used the express except that it runs only on alternate days. Jack Ravitch heard him say he could make his base camp by hard riding, sore foot and all, faster than if he took the local to Amoen and rode a local animal from there."

Salazar thought. "Maybe he figured he'd better get all his lumbering preparations done before the chief makes up his mind on whether to order him off the island. With the speed things move among the Kooks, he could get a lot done before the word got to him up on the mountain."

"You're an astute little fellow," said Ritter, making Salazar wince. "If George remained here, he'd never know when a pair of Kook cops would grab him and hustle him aboard an outbound ship."

"Poor Miss Axelson is heartbroken," said Suzette Ritter. "He visited her room the night before last, and whatever he gave her, I guess she was looking forward to more of it."

Up forward, two railed flatcars preceded the baggage car. Beyond them the little locomotive was slowly backing. Salazar said:

"Excuse me a minute!"

He hurried forward, because the details of railroading had long beguiled him. Kook railroads ran on tracks that in Terran terms had a gauge of 141.8 centimeters, just a shade narrower than that of most Terran railroads. This worked out to a handier figure in Kukulcanian units. The Sunga railroad was converting from a coupling of the chain-and-buffer type to an automatic coupling like Terra's Janning coupler. All the newer rolling stock therefore had two couplings on each end, one of the chain type and, above it, one of the Janning kind. When automatic couplings were in use, the chains were allowed to dangle.

The locomotive had a vertical boiler with a lofty stack, puffing coal smoke. Forward rose a mass of driving machinery. Four vertical pistons in a line whirled a crankshaft, joined to the axles by gearing. There seemed to be a gear-shift mechanism. Behind the boiler rose a small cab, and abaft the cab was the coal bin in place of a separate tender.

In low gear, the locomotive backed up to the leading flatcar. The couplings met with a clank. On the locomotive, the firekook shoveled coal through a trapdoor.

From aft came the sound of a gong. Salazar threaded his way through the crowd of fishy-smelling Kooks, who were scrambling up on the railed flatcars. He passed the Kook conductor, holding his copper gong at arm's length with one clawed hand and whaling it with a mallet in the other.

On the baggage car, loading had been completed and the load secured by lashing down a tarpaulin of coarse gray Kukulcanian canvas. As Salazar passed that car, Choku spoke in Sungao:

"Is all correct for you, honorable Sarasara?"

"All is fine. Come on back with me."

"Are you sure, good sir? Terrans like it not to have us human beings in the same enclosures with them. They say we stink. When they come amongst us, we are too polite to complain of their smell."

"Oh, come on, Choku! With that car so open, they will have naught to complain of."

"Very well, sir, if you say so." Choku followed Salazar back to the scarlet soft-class car.

Tchitchagov was herding the last of his flock aboard. He called out: "Hey, Salazar! Hurry up!"

Suzette Ritter leaned out of the car and called: "Kirk! Come sit with us!"

"Is it okay if I bring my assistant?" He gestured at Choku.

"Sure; there's plenty of room."

Salazar climbed the step. The interior was lined with benches, alternately parallel and perpendicular to the sides, forming a series of alcoves without partitions. The crimson sides of the car arose from the floor about a meter and stopped, save for rows of posts supporting the roof. From the undersides of the wall plates—the longitudinal members joining the tops of the posts—hung a series of rolled-up curtains to lower in bad weather. Otherwise the car was open to the ambient air. A compartment at one end contained a toilet and a washbasin; another at the other end served for storage.

Two-thirds of the seating space was filled by members of the Patel Society and a few other Terrans. There were no Kooks. Salazar took the seat the Ritters were saving in one of the alcoves and motioned Choku to another seat. Following Salazar, Tchitchagov entered the car and stood at the end, counting heads on his fingers. He said:

"Hokay, all present. Doctors Ritter, may I sit with you?"

Receiving assent, he lowered his lank form into the remaining seat in the alcove. Presently he said: "I wonder what George Cantemir is up to mat he returned to Amoen in such a hurry?"

"Besides wanting to get away from Yaamo's cops," said Ritter, "do you think he'll try some devilry?"

Tchitchagov shrugged. "How should I know? From all I hear, he and Dumfries are very determined men. Be prepared for anything."

"Where is the Reverend now?" asked Salazar.

The tall Suvarovian shrugged again. "As far as I know, he is staying in Sungecho. I do not think you are likely to encounter him on Sungara; he is too fat for mountaineering."

"From what I heard," said Salazar, "those two plan to wipe out the local wildlife to make room for Terran settlement. I can't imagine that Yaamo would sit quietly while a horde of Terrans took over his island."

Hilbert Ritter said: " Yaamo's in kind of a cleft stick. He wants to modernize his Kooks just as fervently as Dumfries wants to turn Kukulcan into a second Terra, ruled by his own species. But Yaamo needs money. Dumfries has it, in incredible amounts, which he will pay out to Yaamo to keep him quiet while he infiltrates Sunga with his followers."

Salazar said: "Perhaps Yaamo and Dumfries each figures he can double-cross the other in time to save his own program. Like those dictators from the Massacre Era—what were their names?"

"Hitler and Stalin?" said Suzette Ritter.

"I guess so; my Terran history isn't—"

"Tickets, prease!" said a Kookish voice. The conductor appeared at the end of the car. The Terrans brought out little red rectangles of stiff Kukulcanian paper, while Choku produced a yellow rectangle from one of his pouches.

"What is this?" said the conductor in loud Sungao. "This is no ticket for soft class! Get you back where you belong!"

"Honorable Zuiha!" protested Choku. "I did but enter the car at the command of this Terran, whom I have contracted to serve."

"It is nonetheless wrong, and well you know it!" shouted the conductor. "Now get you hence."

"Pardon, honorable conductor," said Salazar. "I will pay the extra fare my assistant requires."

"Very well, very well," grumbled the conductor. "You Terrans are never satisfied to do things in an orderly way. It is irregular, and I must needs write a note in the log to account for it. Does none of you other Terrans object to this human being's presence? Very well, then."

Salazar brought out his small change—a set of copper polygons with holes for stringing—and peeled off the requisite number. Conductor Zuiha, still grumbling, passed on through the car. Choku said:

"Zuiha is in a bad humor because his application for a change of caste status has been rejected."

The locomotive blew a shrill whistle and shuddered into motion. It swerved right and left as the train passed clicking over switches, then rumbled out the yard and along a street.

The train slowed and screeched to a halt. Looking around, Salazar saw the conductor straining at a hand brake at the end of the car. The breathing sounds of the idling steam locomotive wafted back, along with sounds of altercation in hissing, guttural Sungao.

"See what it is, please," said Salazar to Choku.

Choku went to the end of the car and with effortless ease swung himself up onto the roof. When he returned, he said in his version of English:

"Some person tie kyuumei to ray. Rook for owner. If not find, conductor cut rope."

At length the train moved on, though Salazar never learned whether the owner of the rail-tethered buffalo-lizard was found. They puffed and pounded on past dwindling houses, through the remains of the obsolete defensive wall, past more houses that shrank to mere shacks, and out into farmland.

"Ow!" said Miss Kingsby. "I've got a cinder in my eye!"

"Let me get it out," said Mr. Antonelli.

As speed increased, so did the rocking and shaking. The train became so noisy that passengers had to raise their voices to converse. Among the Patelians, Mrs. Eagleton became carsick. Miss Axelson, on her way to the toilet, was thrown by a lurch of the car into Salazar's lap.

"Oh, Kirk!" she cooed. "I'm so-o-o sorry!"

"That's all right," muttered Salazar. Too embarrassed to exploit the incident to further his acquaintance with Miss Axelson, he set her back on her feet.

They clanked and rattled on. A shift of wind filled the car with smoke. Passengers coughed, grumbled, and wiped off soot. Choku said in Sungao:

"Honorable Sarasara, are there railroads on Terra?"

"So I am told. My father rode upon them ere he came to Kukulcan. He says they are much bigger than these. For a century or two most travelers drove automobiles or rode in flying machines instead of traveling on trains. But then the Terran mineral oil called petroleum, which furnished fuel for these machines, became scarce, and people perforce went back to trains. Most, however, get their power from electricity, which does not smoke but which your folk would forbid."

"It is no wonder," said Choku, "that Terrans know naught about their ancestral spirits. With all those electrical machines whereof I hear, your spirits have probably all been destroyed."

"You may be right," said Salazar, who had been taught to avoid arguments. A passenger complained:

"If this is the express, I'd sure hate to have to ride the local! We can't be doing over thirty kph."

"With their bumpy track and rickety rolling stock," said another, "you'd better be glad they don't try to go faster."

"Locals stop on signal at every crossing," said still another. "The express stops only at towns."

After a while the train slowed and screeched to a halt, as Conductor Zuiha and his trainkooks heaved on the brakes. They were at a small town or large village announced as Torimas. Houses were simple gray cubical blocks of wood, stone, and concrete, unadorned save for the symbols, painted in a kaleidoscope of colors, indicating the clan, caste, occupational, and familial identities of the owners.

"Antics! Buy antics!" cried a young Kook, holding a tray of glittery merchandise up from the station platform.

A couple of Patelians paid for bits of glitter. Tchitchagov grumbled: "I warned them they would get only what you call junk, not real antiques. But some people simply must buy; some sort of neurotic compulsion."

The whistle blew, the gong bonged, the train started with a jangle of couplings and chains. Passengers opened their luncheon packages.

In the early afternoon, some zuta watchers were dozing as best they could on the cushionless seats. The train climbed a long incline, weaving through a country of rolling, rocky hills. In low gear it moved no faster than a brisk jog. Salazar watched the broken country wind past. The vegetation was sparser than along the coast, with bare earth showing among the shrubs, boulders, and occasional trees. Hilbert Ritter said:

"I think the sun is low enough to break out some personal lubricant. Will you get it out, darling?"

Suzette dug into her bag and produced a bottle and a stack of paper cups. She poured a slug of Kukulcanian "whiskey" into each and asked: "Water, anybody?"

Choku declined a drink, but the other four were served. Ritter raised his cup. "Here's to—"

The train screeched to a halt so abruptly that half the drinks went flying. From the rest of the car rose cries of pain and outrage, especially from dozers spilled from their seats.

"Tchyort!" said Tchitchagov. "Choku, will you see what it is?"

Choku went out and soon returned, saying: "Iss pi' of rocks on track."

"Natural or artificial?" asked Salazar.

"Some individuar put zere, sir."

Tchitchagov said: "I think this is an ambush. If I had my gun ... Choku, do you know where my bag is on the baggage car?"

"Iss in midder, on right side."

"You will show me where, and I will get the gun—"

A gunshot cut through the babble. Then came a fusillade, with the rattle of small arms and the impact of bullets against the sides of the car. Shrieks arose from the passengers.

"Get down!" shouted Tchitchagov, rising. "Everybody down! Is anyone hit?"

None claimed that distinction, but every passenger shouted a question at once. Tchitchagov kept shouting "Down! Down! Vniz! Xia dī!" until all save him were sitting or kneeling on the floor.

Salazar, crouching with the rest, heard more shots. He was thankful that Kukulcanian technology had not yet come up with plywood; hence, the sides of the car were of good stout timber, which stopped small-arms projectiles. But the car's bright red color made it an obvious target.

"Pomogitye!" shouted Tchitchagov, clutching his right arm with his left hand. "Now I am hit!"

"Get down yourself!" said Salazar.

"Get the first aid out of the carryall, Suzette," said Hilbert Ritter.

A bullet had drilled a hole in the director's bicep, missing the bone. While Suzette busied herself with disinfecting and bandaging, Tchitchagov said: "Kirk, did you bring a gun in your baggage?"

"Yep, two of 'em. But I saw them load my bag. It's in the middle of the car, on the bottom of the pile."

"Then perhaps you can get mine out." He spoke in Sungao to Choku. "Know you where my bag is in the pile?"

"Mean you the big blue one with the yellow tag?"

"Aye."

"Then methinks I do: on the right side as you face forward, against the covering."

Tchitchagov said: "Thank the gods for these eidetic memories! Kirk, you will have to get my gun out of the bag and use it. Can you assemble a K-94?"

"I think so; mine works much the same way. Come, Choku."

At the end of the car Salazar looked cautiously out.

The firing seemed to have come from a ridge to the left of the train. The crest of that ridge was about two hundred meters away. Up ahead, all the Rooks on the flatcar had leapt off and crouched in the dirt on the descending slope to the right, where cars and embankment offered cover. From the ridge the guns still banged. Bullets cracked overhead, thudded into woodwork, or ricocheted, screeching off metal.

"Show me where Tchitchagov's gun is," said Salazar.

Choku led him half the length of the baggage car. "About here, sir."

Salazar fumbled with the lashing of the tarpaulin, then drew a knife and sawed through a couple of ropes. Choku pushed and pulled the bags and suitcases until he said:

"Methinks this be it."

Salazar winced as a bullet struck nearby. He slashed open the canvas bag and hauled out a massive leather case. This proved to be locked. Remembering the strength of Kooks, he said:

"Can you pry this open, Choku?"

The Kook sank his claws into the leather and heaved. The case came apart with a rending sound. With qualms, Salazar beheld the parts of a K-94 rifle; but he set to work, attached the stock, and screwed in and locked the barrel.

The firing died down. "Make haste, honorable boss," said Choku. "The attackers advance upon us."

"I'm working as fast as I can," snapped Salazar, fumbling with a thirty-round magazine. He finally got it inserted, worked the bolt once to arm the weapon, and ran crouching to the aft end of the baggage car. There, he thought, he would get a better view of the attackers, between the piled baggage and the crimson soft-class car.

Meaning to fix his gaze afar on the ridge, shooting from which had ceased, Salazar was taken by surprise when he found another Terran between the cars. The man was on the farther side, whence the attack was coming, in rough work clothes with his visage hidden by a bandanna. He was straining at the handle on the side of the car, whereby the pin could be withdrawn from the coupling, allowing the paired couplings to part when the locomotive started forward.

For silent seconds wherein the only sound in Salazar's ears was the pant of the idling locomotive, Salazar and the man stared at each other. The man let go of the locking-pin handle and reached for a rifle, which he had leaned against the step of the passenger car on his side. As the stranger straightened up with the gun, Salazar, holding the butt of Tchitchagov's rifle beneath his arm, fired a burst of three rounds from a distance of two meters.

The man pitched over backward to sprawl supine on the ballast. After another second's hesitation, Salazar remembered his original intent and bent his regard to the ridge.

Several human figures were coming down the hillside, bounding down the slope in long leaps. As they neared, Salazar saw that they, too, were armed and masked.

Salazar aimed at the nearest bounding figure. Although the man was in the plainest of plain sight, as soon as one tried to draw a bead on him, he shrank to a fly-speck.

"It were well for you to shoot, honorable employer," said Choku.

"What think you I am doing?" snarled Salazar. He made an extra effort to line up the nearest attacker in his sights and squeezed off another burst.

The man disappeared from Salazar's view until the biologist lowered the rifle and saw the body rolling dolllike down the slope. Then it stopped and lay sprawled. Salazar traversed the field with his eyes until he picked up another bounding assailant. Another burst felled that one, too.

"The others flee," said Choku's emotionless voice. Salazar chose one of the half dozen fleeing men and sent a burst after him. As far as he could see, he missed.

Before he could find another target, the attackers were all out of sight. Shooting from the ridge began again, but more deliberately.

Their leader, Salazar thought, must be telling them to slow down before they shot away all their ammunition. To Choku he said: "Could you go forward and see what is being done to clear the track?"

Choku ran off crouching. Soon he came back, neck spines twitching mirthfully. "Zuiha was lying in the dirt with the others. I bade him organize a party to clear the track whilst you furnish covering fire. If he did not, when the story came out, his chances of promotion were nil. He unhappily agreed to try."

"Good!" said Salazar. "Can you go back to our car to borrow a pair of binoculars? Mine are packed, but many Patelians keep theirs with them."

Presently Choku returned with the glasses. "Chief Tchitchagov's."

Keeping covered, Salazar scanned the ridge. When he looked at the place where his third victim had fallen, there was no sign of the man. Salazar located him crawling up the slopes on hands and knees. The biologist aimed but hesitated; shooting a wounded man somehow did not seem right. By the time he had overcome this qualm, the man had reached the top of the ridge and disappeared.

He resumed his search and soon thought he had picked out movement to the left of a scrubby olive-green tree. Putting away the glasses, he aimed for the spot and fired a burst. When he applied the binoculars again, he could not see movement there. He continued to scan, pausing to wipe his watering eyes, until he found another spot that might be a man's distant head. A burst caused the spot to disappear.

Several shots struck the cars near Salazar. He moved to the other end of the baggage car and resumed searching and firing. When his magazine gave out, he got another out of Tchitchagov's eviscerated case and inserted it. After the first three attackers whom he had felled, he never could tell whether any of his shots had hit home.

Choku approached. "Conductor Zuiha led a group to the rock pile and rolled the rocks away. Soon he will start the train."

"How many were hit up forward?"

"None, sir. All shots seem to have been aimed at these last cars."

The whistle shrieked. Salazar fired a final burst and scrambled up the steps into the soft-fare car. The train resumed its way with jerks and clanks.

Salazar handed the binoculars to Tchitchagov, who sat glumly with his bandaged arm in an improvised sling. "Thanks, Igor. I guess people can get up now. Oh, oh! Look what's coming!"

As the train gathered speed, several Terrans on jutens came out on the right-of-way behind it. The juten riders overhauled the train and started to ride past it on either side, firing pistols. Salazar aimed over the sill of the car side and gave the nearest one a burst. The juten pitched forward, throwing its rider in a heap ahead of it. The other riders halted, clustering around the fallen one. A curve soon hid them from sight.

When the passengers retook their seats, Salazar turned to Tchitchagov. Blood had begun to soak through the bandage on his arm. "Are you all right, Igor?"

"As well as could be expected," growled the director. "You can thank Metasu the attackers were amateurs at this sort of thing, or we should all be dead."

"What should they have done?"

"The first was to mine the track. If they did not have explosives, they could have pried up a rail. These rails are light compared to those I saw on Terra as a boy.

"Then they should have posted themselves closer to the train, so they could pick targets. As it was, they fired at random, sprinkling bullets over the landscape the way half-trained Terran soldiers do. A few through the locomotive boiler would have stopped it. If they had charged as soon as the train halted or if those bandits on jutens had arrived sooner, they would have reached us before you could get my gun into action."

"They weren't the only stupid ones," said Salazar. "Knowing we were dealing with fellow Terrans and not just the orderly, peaceable Kooks, we ought to have kept our guns with us."

"You amaze me, Kirk," said Suzette. "You always seemed such a quiet, harmless little fellow. And here you turn into a fearless warrior, saving us all!" Salazar winced.

"It's the same with his father," said Ritter.

Salazar looked at his feet. "Well—ah—it all happened so suddenly that I didn't have time to get scared. Now that it's over, don't be surprised if I faint."

In fact, Kirk Salazar was as surprised by his own performance as the Doctors Ritter. A shy, gauche young man of average height and slender build, he had thought of himself as a weak-kneed wimp who would probably panic under stress and be too frightened or confused to do anything right. He had also supposed that if ever forced to kill a fellow human being, he would be so filled with guilt and revulsion that he would either puke or go into a hopeless funk.

Here he had shot a couple of fellow Terrans with resolution and dispatch, with no more reaction than if they had been mere biological specimens! Perhaps he had hopes of attaining his father's calm competence in tight situations.

"But who," asked Suzette Ritter, "would have wanted to attack us? As far as I know, we have no enemies on Sunga."

Tchitchagov grunted. "I thought Cantemir might be up to something when he rushed away from Sungecho. Knowing the Patel Society to be ardent conservationists, he might think they would make trouble for Dumfries's project. So he tried to wipe us out with one blow."

Ritter said: "Sounds fantastic, but people try all sorts of strange things away from the Settlements, where Terran laws don't apply and the Kooks won't bother. Kirk, were any Kooks on the flatcars hit?"

"Apparently not; were they, Choku?" Then Salazar struck his forehead with his palm. "I'm stupid again! That first man I shot was trying to uncouple this car. I suppose they wanted to catch us alive while letting the Kooks and the rest of the train go on."

"Cantemir is clever," said Tchitchagov. "He knows that Yaamo would not stand for shooting up his people, but if Terrans want to kill one another, who cares?"

Salazar said: "I don't think they really meant to kill us, or we should have dead and wounded all over. They stop the train, shoot a lot to immobilize us, detach the car, let the rest go on, and order us to leave the car with our hands up. What they'd do then, I have no idea. Too bad we couldn't have collected that first Terran I shot for evidence."

"if we could prove he acted under Cantemir's orders," said Ritter. "George would deny it, of course."

Conductor Zuiha scrambled down from the pile of luggage forward and entered the soft-fare car, calling: "Iss anyone hurt here?"

Tchitchagov raised his wounded arm. "I think I am the only one."

"You are rucky," said Zuiha. "I wirr ask superiors not to ret monsters from ozzer pranets ride on trains. If you ay-yens wish to kirr each ozzer, prease do it where it wi' not endanger human rife or disrupp rayroad." Neck bristles rippling with indignation, the conductor departed.

Two hours late, the Unriu Express pulled into Amoen. The station platform was lit by the smoky light of vegetable-oil lanterns, giving off a sour-sweet smell.

On the platform, Patelians clustered around Tchitchagov, asking about his wound. Salazar expected an explosion of complaints, but the only fuss was from Mrs. Eagleton, whose suitcase had been missing when the baggage car had been unloaded. A harassed Tchitchagov explained:

"But madam, it undoubtedly fell out through the gap that Mr. Salazar made in the tarpaulin to get my gun."

"Well, then, commandeer a special car to go back to look for it!"

"I fear that is impossible."

"But you can't expect me to go on without my things!"

"You will have to borrow from the other ladies."

The argument continued until Tchitchagov said: "Excuse me, but I must sit down. I feel a little faint."

"Here," said Hilbert Ritter, pushing his own massive suitcase forward. "Sit here, Igor. Think you can manage the field trip?"

"I do not know. I should get to a Terran doctor, but the nearest is at Sungecho." Tchitchagov looked up. "Hilbert, could you take over for me? I will give you my maps and everything."

Ritter looked doubtful. "Why not ask young Salazar here? As a biology student, he's at least as well qualified. How about it, Kirk?"

"Well, ah—" began Salazar, but Tchitchagov spoke:

"No, Hilbert. He is a brave young man, but you have had much more experience with handling groups."

The argument limped along until Salazar, looking along the platform, cried: "Alexis!"

She strode toward them, followed by a small procession of Kooks bearing gear of poles and canvas lashed into large, elongated bundles.

"Good heavens!" said Suzette Ritter. "The last I heard, she never wanted to set eyes on us again."

Ritter shrugged. "You've known her as long as I have, darling."

"Hey there!" Alexis called. "How are my dear old fuds? And Kirk Salazar! Just the people I wanted!"

"Good evening, Miss Ritter!" said Choku, standing at Salazar's elbow.

Alexis paused. "You are—oh, I see! You're that Choku who worked for Kashani and then for me. Is that right?"

"Iss right," said Choku. "Iss aw wey wiss you?"

"All is well with me. Is all well with you?"

"Sanks to pranetary spirit Metasu, aw iss wey wiss me.

Alexis cut short the endless formulas required by Kukulcanian etiquette and turned to her parents. Ritter asked:

"What brings you here, Alexis?"

"I'm going to take you back with me, to our community, to show you what a happy, harmonious life we've achieved."

"I fear not. Igor is hurt, and I've agreed to take his place while he goes down the line to get patched up."

Alexis's face fell. "Oh. No, really; I insist on your coming up the mountain with me, as we originally planned. I'll prove I'm right."

"Sorry, but I'm needed here."

"Oh, damn! At least you'll come, won't you, Mother?"

Suzette said: "I'd love to, but—ah—I'd better stay with your father. He'll need me."

"Oh, go to hell, both of you! Kirk, you'll come! The community is near the edge of the venom-tree forest, so it'll give you a base for research."

"When are you starting out?" asked Salazar cautiously. "I don't suppose you'd set forth at night."

"Don't be silly! Kooks can't see worth a damn in the dark. We'll light out before dawn. It's about twenty-seven kilometers, which we could never do in a day on foot, so I brought my Kooks along with litters. They trot ahead on those long legs at a dead run all day."

"Sounds interesting," said Salazar, "but now I'd better help get everybody settled. Igor's rented the town hall as barracks, since there are no hotels."

"You don't want to bunk with all those old lizard-bat chasers! I'm camping, and you'll be at least as comfortable as on a pallet in the town hall. Inflatable mattresses and everything. Come on!"

Feeling inadequate in the face of this masterful female, Salazar let himself be cajoled and bullied into following her off the platform. Choku trailed after him with Salazar's bag. The Kook said:

"Honorable boss!"

"Aye?"

"There is something that I fain would tell you, but it is also something whereof I promised to say naught." In the dim light Salazar saw Choku's neck spines rippling in an unusual manner. "That makes a painful choice."

"On Terra they call it a dilemma, from words meaning 'two horns', as when one is charged by a wild kyuumei and is likely to be caught on one horn or the other."

"But sir, how can I resolve this 'diremma'?"

"Forget it for now. If you let the matter rest, it may solve itself."

Looking back at Salazar, Alexis said: "Hurry up, lazybones! How did Igor get hurt? I heard something about an attempt to hold up the train."

"Well, this afternoon we were coming up a long grade in low gear ..."

When Salazar had finished his tale, in which he modestly minimized his own part, she said: "It's that fuckomaniac Cantemir! I'd better get out one of our big-game rifles and clean it. If I ever get George in my sights, he'd better have his insurance paid up."

"You'd kill him on mere suspicion?"

"Damn right! Here in the outback it's often kill or be killed, like on the old American frontier. He wouldn't be the first."

As dangerous in her way as Dumfries was in his, thought Salazar; she was as addicted to power as Cantemir was to sex—or as he, Kirk Salazar, was to making his mark in science. He had better keep his guard up with Alexis at all times.

Alexis's campsite was not far. On command, the Kooks opened a bundle containing a tent. In short order they set up the poles, attached tent ropes, hammered in stakes, and spread canvas.

"There!" said Alexis. "See? You've even got a portable washstand."

"You certainly manage these things efficiently."

"Thanks to the Kooks' literal-mindedness and eidetic memories. If you once explain something clearly and correctly, they've got it for good."

"But—ah—where will you sleep?"

"You'll learn. Go to bed; we get up before sunrise."

A quarter hour later saw Salazar, naked in the sultry air, stretching out on a large inflatable mattress. Distant thunder growled.

Salazar was about to turn out the little oil lamp, when the flap gaped and Alexis slipped in. He goggled as she whipped off shirt, trousers, and underwear. Staring down at him, she said:

"Get over on your side! You didn't expect to have this tent all to yourself, did you?"

"Well—ah—do you mean—are we going to—ah—"

"Going to fuck, you mean? Let me explain. What I do in Sungecho is my business. But from Amoen to Kashania I'm a holy high priestess, as virginal as a newborn Kook, and don't ever let me hear you say anything different around my people!"

She frowned at Salazar's midsection. "Another thing. In the community we wear clothes only to keep warm, any more being regarded as an affectation. But when we're naked, it's a terrible breach of manners for a man to show an erection. Down, Towser, down! That's better. It's that silly Judeo-Christian tabu which makes mundanes equate nudity with sex. They have nothing to do with each other; you can screw dressed or undressed, just as you can standing, sitting, or lying. But give a male mundane a glimpse of a tit, and he gets the hots. We're beyond that medieval nonsense. Are you all washed and toothbrushed?"

"Uh huh," said Salazar. Thunder sounded closer, and rain began to patter on the canvas.

"I'll put out the light," she said, turning off the lamp. In the darkness Salazar felt the motion of the mattress as she lay down on her side.

A blinding flash, visible even through the canvas, was instantly followed by a terrific crash of thunder. Rain roared. Salazar was seized by female limbs as Alexis, slithering across, wrapped herself around him like an amorous octopus.

"I'm frightened," she murmured.

Feeling virile, Salazar held her while rain drummed and celestial fireworks continued, diminishing. At length—perhaps a quarter hour later, Salazar thought-she stopped trembling. Then he felt a hand exploring his person. She said:

"Oh—oh, it's up again!"

"Well, what do you ex—"

She murmured: "Guess I'm not so holy-virginal tonight after all. Put your hand here ... All right; ready when you are ... Ouch! Watch where you put those bony knees."

Soon she cried: "Oh, damn! Why did you have to go off when I was just getting warmed up?"

"Sorry; I couldn't help it."

"Don't worry; we'll try again in an hour or two. But you seemed pretty amateurish. How much have you done?"

"Well—ah—perhaps I shouldn't admit it, but this is my first."

"Great Shiiko, d'you mean I've deflowered a male virgin?"

"If you want to put it that way."

She burst into a sputter of laughter. Salazar asked in a hurt voice: "What's so funny about that?"

"Nothing, nothing. You must be a neo-Puritan."

"It's in the family background."

"Poor fellow!"

"Why? There's no law against not fornicating."

"But what a dismal life!"

"As my father says, celibacy may not be the most fun in the world, but nobody ever died of it. Anyway, I've been too preoccupied; a doctorate comes hard. By the way, are you safe?"

"Of course! Had myself tubed years ago so I can take my fun when I want it."

"What about love? Do you ever think of it?"

"Me fall for that sentimental nonsense? Ha! The main thing is power. Get that, and it'll get you whatever else you want. Now go to sleep!" She adjusted the poignet on her wrist. "This'll wake me up about the time you'll be ready for another."