City noises--the dizzying chaos of the metropolis. Kesley and van Alen reined in their mounts at the gates of the city of Galveston, capital of Texas Province and a main bastion of Duke Winslow of North America. It seemed to Kesley that they had been riding for months. Actually, it had been only a matter of weeks for the long ride through the farmlands, down through Texas to the Gulf. They moved along now at a slow canter, guiding their horses into a line that disappeared between the heavy copper gates surrounding the walled city. Galveston was an encircled peninsula, guarded by land, open to the sea. Men in the green-and-gold uniforms of Duke Winslow's guard rode alongside the line, keeping the jostling crowd in order. "Better get your coins ready," van Alen muttered, as they drew near the gate. "Coins?" "This is a fee city. A dollar a head to enter the gate." Kesley made a face and dug a golden dollar from his pocket. He looked at the tiny, well-worn coin almost wistfully. "The good Duke takes care that his subjects are never weighted with overmuch coinage," he observed. "The Duke's men relieve us of it joyfully." They rode past the gate. A sleepy-eyed toll-keeper sat, impassively watching, as each newcomer to the city deposited his dollar in the till. As Kesley passed the tollbox, he flipped the coin in casually. It clinked against several of the others, spun, and bounced out, rolling some ten feet away. Kesley shrugged apologetically and continued ahead. "Hey there!" The guard's voice was loud and harsh. "Get down there and--" The voice of the toll-keeper died away. Kesley looked around and saw van Alen down on his knees in the well-trampled mud, rooting in the filth for the coin. The nobleman seemed to show no compunction about crawling before the toll-keeper. "Here you are, sir." Van Alen obsequiously deposited Kesley's dollar in the tollbox, added one of his own, and handed a third coin to the toll-keeper. "The boy is sick," van Alen murmured, gesturing significantly. "He does not know what he does." The toll-keeper nodded curtly and pocketed the dollar. "Get moving, both of you," he snapped. Kesley, who had trotted a few feet further, halted to let van Alen catch up with him. "That's a good way to assure a short life," the Antarctican said. "Toll-keepers are notorious for their quick triggers. Don't make needless trouble for yourself, boy." "Sorry," Kesley said. "It riled me to see him sitting there so smug and taking our money. I didn't really mean to throw the coin on the ground." Van Alen shook his head sadly. "It riled you," he repeated, his voice mocking. "You've been lucky so far--each time you've lost your temper, you've survived. But better learn to curb it. These people are your superiors, whether you like it or not, and if a Duke wants a dollar to enter his city, you put down your dollar or you ride the other way." "Superiors, hell! They've got no right--"