"Political. Irreconcilable. My father was a 'political' before me." "Where do you go in Turibek?" "Where the Street of the Double Moon makes juncture with the Low Canal is a tiny shop dealing in curios from the far planets. The proprietor is one Jal Thurlo. I go there for a meeting with him." "And the reason? The reason--quickly!" Ketrik's gaze leveled and he said slowly, "You would not expect me to tell you that. He too is a 'political'." "You can quote the oath of the _S'Relah_?" Ketrik had been waiting for that one. Now, in a low voice, he quoted the oath which not all Rajecs, very few Martians, and probably no Earthman save himself had ever heard. It was a strange and terrible oath, an oath hallowed in blood, and its implications would have made some men blanch. But Ketrik spoke it feelingly. He finished the words and looked closely at the black's face. The man was satisfied and strangely moved, albeit slightly puzzled. He drew a tremulous breath at last. "You have proven! You may go on to Turibek with us. We travel afoot and the way is slow, but certain." "That is agreeable." * * * * * The leader drew Ketrik aside, out of hearing of the others. "At the rear of our caravan is a small group of Martians, prospectors from the nearby mountains--a ragged, harmless lot, whom we tolerate. I think it advisable that you travel with them. Dar Vaajo's Specials are stationed along our route." Ketrik nodded curtly, started to move away. The Rajec stopped him. "This mining camp you mention, this L'Ottli where you have been for six months. Is it not far, far to the south, at the extreme end of the K'Mari Range?" "That's the place." Ketrik was on his guard. "I thought you would like to know there is no L'Ottli. That entire town was wiped out in a great avalanche three years ago. Oh, yes, one more thing." The black was smiling now, looking at the place on Ketrik's arm where the hot chunk of metal had burned the sleeve away. "That is a bad burn, and a strange one--for a Martian." Ketrik looked at his injured arm for the first time. Around the area of the burn was a tiny outline of white--the white skin of an Earthman showing through. Only the keen eyes of this Rajec would have noticed it. "I'll give you other garments," the man said. "You had better burn these. Good night, and sleep well--Khosan." But Ketrik didn't sleep well. He burned his garments and donned the others, then found the camp of the Martian prospectors. There were six of them, all asleep now. Ketrik found a place by the fire and lay awake, speculating. The Rajec leader he trusted. The man was undoubtedly of the _S'Relah_. But these six Martians would be suspicious of him, a newcomer. If they hadn't yet heard of the search for a spy in the area, they would certainly hear of it on the morrow! And they'd report him to any of Dar Vaajo's "Specials" they met along the line of march.