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too?”
    “Aye, sir, and in the Juru Company, even as you are.”
    Fallon looked sharply at the man. “That’s odd. I don’t recall seeing you at any of the drills or meetings, and I don’t often forget people.” The last statement was no boast. Fallon had a phenomenal memory for names and faces, and knew more Krishnans in Zanid than most locally born Zaniduma.
    “I have for some time been on special duty, sir.”
    “What do you do?”
    The Yeshtite looked crafty. “Oh, I’m sworn to secrecy and so won’t tell you, craving your pardon. I’ll admit this much: that I guard a door.”
    “A door?” said Fallon. “Have another.”
    “Aye, a door. But never shall you learn where ‘tis, or what it opens unto.”
    “Interesting. But look here: If this door is as important as all that, why does the government use one of us to watch it? Craving your pardon, of course. I should think they’d post somebody from Kir’s private guard.”
    “They did,” said Girej with a self-satisfied chuckle. “But then early this year came these alarums regarding the barbarous Ghuur of Qaath, and all the regulars have been put upon a war footing, Kir’s guard’s been cut to less than half, his surplus stalwarts being dispersed, some to the frontiers, others to train new levies. Hence Minister Chabarian sought out reliable members of the watch, of my religious persuasion, to take the places, of the soldiery.”
    “What’s your religious persuasion got to do with it?”
    “Why, only a Yeshtite—but hold, I’ve spoke too much already. Drink deep, my Terran friend, and foul not that long proboscis by thrusting it into matters alien to it.”
    And that was all that Fallon could get out of Girej, though the fellow hugged Fallon at parting and swore he’d be at his service in any future contingency.

Chapter VI
    “Gazi!” called Anthony Fallon as he re-entered his house.
    “Well, how now?” came her irascible voice from the back.
    “Get your shawl, my pretty, for today we shop.”
    “But I’ve already marketed for the day…”
    “No, no vulgar vegetables. I’m buying you fancy clothes.”
    “Art drunk again?” asked Gazi.
    “How’s that for a gracious response to a generous offer? No, dear. Believe it or not, we’re invited to a ball.”
    “What?” Gazi appeared, fists on hips. “Antane, if this be another of your japes…”
    “Me? Japes? Here, look at this!”
    He showed her the invitation; Gazi threw her arms around Fallon’s neck and squeezed the breath out of him. “My hero! How came you upon this? You stole it, I’ll warrant!”.
    “Why is everybody so suspicious of me? Kastamhang gave it to me with his own pudgy hand.” Fallon straightened the kinks out of his vertebrae. “It’s tomorrow night, so come along.”
    “Why the haste?”
    “Don’t you remember—this is bath day? We must be clean to attend this do. You don’t want the banker’s jagaini to sneer at you through her lorgnette—so don’t forget the soap.”
    “The one good thing you Earthmen have brought to Krishna,” she said, bustling about. “Alack! In these rags I’m ashamed to enter a good shop to purchase better garments.”
    “Well, I won’t buy you an extra intermediate set of clothes, so you can work your way up through the shops step by step.”
    “And have you really the wealth for such a reckless expense?”
    “Oh, don’t worry. I can get the stuff at cost.”
    They rattled back across town, passing the Safq. Fallon gave the monstrous edifice only a cursory glance, not wishing to reveal an excessive interest in it before Gazi. Next they clattered past the House of Justice, where the heads of the day’s capital offenders were just being mounted on spikes on top of a bulletin-board. Below each head, a Krishnan was writing in chalk the vital statistics and the misdeeds of its former owner.
    And then into the Kharju, where the sextuple clop of the hooves of the ayas drawing the carriages of the rich mingled with the