"Stop an instant, Choku!"
While Choku directed the spotlight at the fleeing animals, Salazar fired over Choku's head. The shot seemed to have missed, but the poösho bearing Salazar's beard abandoned it. Back on the ground, Salazar collected it.
The sky was paling when Choku and Salazar returned to their camp. Salazar caught a few hours of sleep and made last-minute observations of the nearby kusis. As the sun went down in a glory of crimson, gold, and azure, he said:
"I think the time has come to return to Henderson. Additional observations would add but little to my the-sis.
"And your cult, sir?"
"Abdallah is in charge; and Mahasingh says he, too, is leaving. The Adriana lumbering appears to be collapsing, at least for now."
"But sir, suppose the lumber company recruits another crew to complete the job?"
Salazar shrugged. "If I come back, it will be as Doctor Sarasara, with more authority than I now have. I cannot stay on forever as unpaid guardian of the nanshin forest. So let us pack."
They toiled through half the night. Salazar, after putting his notes in the best order he could, stuffed them and his recorder reels and rolls of film into his large, waterproof plastic case with a lock.
"This," he told Choku, "is more important than all the rest of my gear together. If it be a choice betwixt saving the case and all the other baggage, save the case. I could get a new tent, rifle, cameras, and so forth, but I could not replace these records until I get home and duplicate them."
The sky was still a star-spangled black when Choku roused Salazar, who set to work, yawning, to transform himself into Sri Khushvant Sen. The beard was a little the worse for wear but could still be combed out and affixed.
Making Mahasingh's scarf into a turban proved more obdurate. After two unsuccessful attempts by Salazar, Choku said:
"I can help, sir."
Salazar sat while Choku expertly wound the scarf into an authentic turban and tucked the free end in. This time Salazar found he could move and even shake his head without the headgear's coming apart. "How did you ever learn that, Choku? I never heard of a Kukulcanian's wearing a turban."
"I worked for Mr. Kashani, sir, before Miss Ritter came. He taught me the trick, since he wore it in leading his cult. He said very few Terrans on his home world wore them nowadays, save cult leaders."
"Why are you not still working for the Kashanites?"
"Miss Ritter dismissed me, I suppose because of my reluctance to comply with some of her more extreme commands."
For the discarded robe, Salazar's yellow slicker was pressed into service. The color was not quite right, but there was no time to correct it.
Around midday Salazar set out for Amoen. Choku toted the baggage, in which Cantemir's big-game rifle was packed. Salazar wore his pistol and carried the case with his notes and records beneath his arm.
Arriving before sunset, they sought Amoen's nearest thing to an inn. This was a small house, a blocky concrete affair like most Kook houses, with a couple of extra rooms equipped as bedrooms. The owner, Geshukya, let out the extra rooms to Terrans.
Other Kooks never stopped there. Having a remarkable indifference to comfort and bound by complex rules of kin and caste, Kooks had no native equivalent of "hotel" or "inn." When nightfall caught one away from home with no kith or kin, he simply sat on the ground with his back against something and went to sleep.
On the way to Geshukya's, Salazar clapped a hand to his forehead. "Oh, my God!"
Choku turned. "Sir, I believe that English expression denotes agitation. What, pray, is amiss?"
"We shall have to walk past Takao's juten stable to get to Geshukya's unless we make a wide detour through the woods. At this time of day, that strikes me as unwise."
"Well, then, sir?"
"If Takao sees me, he will ask after the juten I rented from him, which Mahasingh shot. If I tell the truth, there will be an inquiry and we shall be stuck here for sixtnights."
"Well, then, sir? Do you wish to remove your disguise? "
"But if I show my bare face, one of Yaamo's constables is looking for me. In a one-street town like this he would probably find me. So either way I am likely to be intercepted."
"If, sir, you could assume a third personality ..."
"Exactly! We will go behind that barn and cut off most of this beard. Then get my regular sun hat out of the bag."
When they emerged on the town's main street again, Salazar was still brown of skin but wore a short, close-cut black beard. On his head was a Terran sun helmet. His father had imported several of them from a Terran land called India, claiming they were the most practical headgear for persons of north European ancestry forced to work under tropical suns.
They passed Takao's stable. In front, a trio of Kooks surrounded a juten, arguing. Takao called out:
"O Terran! Pray pause. May your health be good!"
"And may your health be likewise good," replied Salazar automatically.
"May your ancestral spirits guide you to success!"
"And may your ancestral spirits save you from errors and perils!"
"May you overcome all obstacles."
Salazar finally said: "Very well, my friends, what is it?"
Takao said: "You see here the juten hired two sixtnights ago by a Terran named Maasinga or something like that, saying he worked for the Adriana Lumber Company. Earlier today this same beast wandered back to our stable without its rider. Know you Mr. Maasinga? He has facial bristles like unto yours, but longer."
"I have met him," said Salazar cautiously. "I hear he means to return to Sungecho."
"We have heard of disturbances up this mountain, with riots and other Terranisms. Know you aught of this?"
Salazar studied the juten. Sure enough, the third right foreclaw was missing. Mahasingh had sounded noble in giving Salazar his mount in trade for the slain one, as if it were his to give. In fact, this looked like the start of convoluted litigation. Mahasingh could claim he owed Takao nothing because Takao had his hackney back. Salazar could claim he did not owe Takao for the dead juten because Mahasingh had killed the beast, not he. He answered:
"True, there was a disturbance. I went thither—"
"Excuse me, sir, but who are you?"
"Hasan Misri," said Salazar, giving the first name that popped into his head. "I went up the mountain to see if there was a place to set up a trading post to sell sundries to Terrans. Finding conditions unfavorable, at least for now, I shall return to Sungecho."
"Another thing, sir," said Takao. "Another Terran, giving the name of Sen, also rented a juten. He had somewhat of your appearance and seemed to be the leader of some Terran religious cult. We have heard naught of him since."
"I have met Mr. Sen," said Salazar gravely. "He said he wished to consult the hermit Seisen; that is all I know. May all paths lie smooth before you!"
"And may all your paths run straight and level."
Salazar emerged from Geshukya's house next dawn in his Arab businessman getup, with his pistol holster beneath the slicker. He had touched up his makeup; the real beard, sprouting beneath the false one, itched. Choku, who had slept with his back against Geshukya's house, joined Salazar, taking over the duffel bag, while Salazar carried the record case.
As they neared the station, Salazar touched Choku to detain him, saying: "Is that not Mahasingh?"
"Indeed it is, sir."
Mahasingh was handing his ticket to Conductor Zuiha. Salazar muttered: "That will not do. He knows who I am. Wait a moment, please!"
Salazar hastened back to the juten stable, where a Kook stable boy was feeding the animals. Salazar sent him in to rouse the owner. Takao appeared with his neck spines rippling displeasure.