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“That’s it, Jim? You turn coward at the slightest setback. For shame! What would The Bishop say to this?” He would say stop talking in public, I thought as I noticed the strange looks I was getting. So I whistled happily, not a care in the world, turned a corner and saw the tables and chairs, men sitting and drinking interesting beverages, under a sign that said SOSTEN HA GWYRAS which conveyed exactly nothing to me. But underneath it was printed Nl PAROLOS ESPERANTO, BONVENUU. I hoped that they spoke Esperanto better than they wrote it. I found a table against the wall, dropped into a chair and snapped my fingers at the ancient waiter. “Dhethplegadow,” he said.

“Plegadow the others,” I said. “We speak Esperanto. What’s to drink. Dad?”

“Beer, wirie, dowr-tom-ys.”

“I’m just not in the mood for a dowr-tom-ys today. A large beer, if you please.”

When he turned away I dug out Rasco’s wallet. If my guards were supposed to encourage the local economy they should be carrying some of the local currency. The wallet clunked when I dropped it onto the table, heavy with little metal discs. I shook one out and turned it over. It had the number two stamped into one side, with Arghans on the other.

“That will be one Arghans,” the waiter said, putting a brimming clay pot in front of me. I passed over the coin.

“Take that, my good man, and keep the change.”

“You offworlders are so generous,” he said, muffledly as he bit the coin. “Not mean, stupid, vicious like the locals. You want girl? Boy? Kewarghen to smoke?”

“Later perhaps. I’ll let you know. Beer now and the heady pleasures of native life to come.”



He went away xnuttering and I took a great slug of the beer. Instantly regretting it. I swallowed—and regretted that as well as the noxious brew bubbled and seethed its way through my digestive tract. I pushed the jar away and belched. Enough of this tomfoolery. I had escaped, great, step one. But what came next?

Nothing that I could think of at the moment. I sipped at the beer, it still tasted just as repulsive, but even this heroic treatment produced no inspiration. I was grateful for the interruption when the waiter sidled over and whispered hoarsely behind the back of his hand.

“New shipment kewarghen fresh from the fields. You get high, stay up for many days. Want some? No? What about girl with whips? Snakes? Leather straps and hot mud…”

I interrupted since I wasn’t sure that I enjoyed where the conversation was going. “I am sated, I tell you sated. All I wish are directions to return to the municipal edifice.”

“Do not know what long words mean.”

“Want to find building big, high, filled with plenty offworlders.”

“Ahh, you mean the lys. For one Arghans I take you there.”

“For one Arghans you give me instructions. I don’t want to drag you away from your work.” Nor did I want to be led astray to one of the many offers he had made. In the end he had to agree. I memorized the instructions, sipped some more of the beer and instantly regretted it, then slipped away when he had vanished into the back room.