Nora, tugging beside her at the draw-tongue of the cumbersome vehicle which comprised part of the typical _impedimenta_ of lower class Magogean nomads, smiled agreement. "Much better. Though I confess I don't envy those whose rôles we are playing. I wouldn't like to do this _all_ the time." "I don't believe," said Kang in a low voice, "you are going to have to do it much longer. For see? Before us? A city on the river's edge, and armed soldiers watching our approach. You know our story?" "Yes." "Good! Remember it well. We must make no mistake." * * * * * This was their last exchange of free, unguarded speech. For as he had said, the soldiers had spotted them, and a company was moving forward to challenge their approach. They did so, Gary Lane could not help thinking, in a manner typically Magogean. Not with any warmth or friendliness, but in dictatorial tones of sharp suspicion. "Hold, there, slaves! Who are you? Whence came you? Whither are you going?" Gary, haltered shoulder to shoulder beside his friend and comrade, felt Lark O'Day's body stiffen with suppressed rage at this form of address. But like himself, O'Day remained hunched, with head hanging stupidly low, as if both were the witless serfs they pretended to be. The elderly Kang spoke, as had been agreed, for their group. "Greetings, O warriors of strength and valor. I am the freedman, Kengu. These are my daughters and their mates. We come from the Twilight Zone to seek employment in the city of Khundru." "Twilight Zone?" demanded the warrior captain suspiciously. "What were _you_ doing there?" "For three years," answered Kang, "we labored there in the service of the _kraedar_ Alisur. Now the noble _kraedar_ is dead. We have no master." He could say this confidently. From a Magogean newscast had been learned of Alisur's recent and opportune demise. That Alisur had been an explorer operating in the Twilight Zone was a feature upon which they had been swift to capitalize. The warrior captain nodded and strode to the cart, pulled back the sacking with which it was covered. "And what have you here? Valuable goods, no doubt, you stole from your dead master?" "Nay, Noble One. Naught but our common household belongings. Bedding and articles of furniture. Clothing ... utensils for cooking." The captain, peering into the laden cart, grunted disdainfully and threw back its cover. "The old man speaks truth. The foul cart reeks of rubbish. Very well, old fool, on your way. Report yourself to the guardsman at the Twilight Gate, and show him this pass." He scribbled briefly on something resembling paper, tossed it at Kang. "This will permit you to enter the city. Wait!" A look of cunning stole into the chieftain's eyes. "Of course there is the matter of an entry fee. You have some money?" Kang answered humbly, "Very little, my lord. Scarce enough to sustain us until we have succeeded in finding employment. Barely five units--"