"A word, an idea from old Earth. Every living act is ordered by ritual. But our heritage is passionate--and when unyielding _adak_ stands in the way of an irresistible emotion, there is turbulence, sometimes even killing." "An _amok_." "Exactly. It is as well that the _amok_ has no weapons other than his knife. Otherwise he would kill twenty where now he kills one." The car rolled along a narrow avenue, scattering pedestrians to either side like the bow of a boat spreading foam. The men wore loose white pantaloons and a short open vest; the women wore only the pantaloons. "Handsome set of people," remarked Murphy. Ali-Tomás again smiled complacently. "I'm sure Singhalût will present an inspiring and beautiful spectacle for your program." Murphy remembered the keynote to Howard Frayberg's instructions: "_Excitement! Sex! Mystery!_" Frayberg cared little for inspiration or beauty. "I imagine," he said casually, "that you celebrate a number of interesting festivals? Colorful dancing? Unique customs?" Ali-Tomás shook his head. "To the contrary. We left our superstitions and ancestor-worship back on Earth. We are quiet Mohammedans and indulge in very little festivity. Perhaps here is the reason for _amoks_ and sjambaks." "Sjambaks?" "We are not proud of them. You will hear sly rumor, and it is better that I arm you beforehand with truth." "What is a sjambak?" "They are bandits, flouters of authority. I will show you one presently." "I heard," said Murphy, "of a man riding a horse up to meet the space-ships. What would account for a story like that?" "It can have no possible basis," said Prince Ali-Tomás. "We have no horses on Cirgamesç. None whatever." "But ..." "The veriest idle talk. Such nonsense will have no interest for your intelligent participants." The car rolled into a square a hundred yards on a side, lined with luxuriant banana palms. Opposite was an enormous pavilion of gold and violet silk, with a dozen peaked gables casting various changing sheens. In the center of the square a twenty-foot pole supported a cage about two feet wide, three feet long, and four feet high. Inside this cage crouched a naked man. The car rolled past. Prince Ali-Tomás waved an idle hand. The caged man glared down from bloodshot eyes. "That," said Ali-Tomás, "is a sjambak. As you see," a faint note of apology entered his voice, "we attempt to discourage them." "What's that metal object on his chest?" "The mark of his trade. By that you may know all sjambak. In these unsettled times only we of the House may cover our chests--all others must show themselves and declare themselves true Singhalûsi." Murphy said tentatively, "I must come back here and photograph that cage." Ali-Tomás smilingly shook his head. "I will show you our farms, our vines and orchards. Your participants will enjoy these; they have no interest in the dolor of an ignoble sjambak."