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I’m too big for a cavalryman on present-day horses, but the Syrians make heavy use of infantry still—the good old Macedonian phalanx—and a pikeman my size will be welcome. In due course a Patrolman will contact me and I’ll pass your data on. After the peace with Euthydemus, I’ll accompany the Syrian army to India and then back west. A Patrol agent will have slipped me an energy weapon, and I’ll try to protect Antiochus’ life if things look desperate. Naturally, we hope it won’t come to that. We hope the usurpation can be smoothly aborted, and all I need do is collect details about how the Syrians manage a campaign.”
    “I see.” Everard heard the reluctance. Waging war against Chandrakumar’s beloved Bactrians? However, hecould accept a necessity and inquire: “But I say, why so roundabout? This kingdom doesn’t seem involved. In any case, someone could simply arrive on a hopper in a discreet location and get in touch with me.”
    “Precaution. The enemy may have a watchman here, who’d probably be able to detect an arrival or departure nearby. We don’t want to risk alerting anybody like that. If they don’t know we’re aware of their existence, we can more handily bag thern. And Bactria does have its role in history. While it exists as a military power, it helps keep the Parthians more cautious than they might otherwise be.”
That much, at least, is true. Now for more mendacity.
“Maybe, as part of the plot, the gang wants to undermine Bactria somehow. Or maybe not—they can only be a few individuals—but we’re coppering every bet we can. Before you left base, you were told to keep an eye out for any visitors who seemed peculiar. I’m here to get that information from you.”
    “I see,” Chandrakumar repeated, but in friendly wise, now eager to help. The vision Everard presented terrified him, as it certainly should. He stayed calm, though, tugged his chin, stared into the dimness around them. “Hard to tell. This city is such a potpourri of races. I’d be sorry if I cause the corps to waste effort on quite harmless persons.”
    “Never mind. Tell me everything. They’ll evaluate it uptime.”
    “If you could give me some notion—”
    “For openers: who stopped by this house, paid his respects, and in the course of chitchat found out what’s been going on—whether any
other
oddball strangers were in town, for instance?”
    “Several, off and on. An establishment like this is a sort of verbal bulletin board, you know, and not only for Buddhists.”
    Right. That’s why the Patrol quietly helped found it, half a century ago. In medieval Europe we do the same for certain monasteries.
“Go on. Get specific. Please.”
    “Well, as per instructions, I have maintained myselfhere, not moved to more comfortable quarters, so I have been in a position to pay heed. Generally, I would call them unsuspicious, those who dropped in. I do wish you could indicate a little better what you have in mind.”
    “Individuals who don’t seem to belong anywhere in this milieu, whether racially or culturally or … any hallmark that struck your notice. I was told the gang may be a mixed bunch.”
    Lamplight flickered over a bleak smile. “You, coming from when you do, think of Arab terrorists? No, there were a pair of Arabs, but I have no reason to believe they were anything but the spice dealers they said they were. Irishmen, however—Yes, conceivably two Irishmen. Black hair, marble-white skin as if this Asian sun had never touched it, fine features. If they are of that stock, they cannot well be contemporary, can they? The Irish at present are barbarian headhunters.”
    Everard must struggle to show no more interest than Holbrook would in any other potential suspects. He trusted the Indian, but when you stalked such an enemy as his, you didn’t willingly add the slightest hazard to those you already confronted. The Exaltationists surely realized that at least one historical worker was