It would probably be a mistake to ask for a list of Pendleton's friends, but there was a way around that. "I would like to meet any of your people who had dealings with Pendleton, either in business or socially. I will do everything not to inconvenience them in any way." "I think they would be glad to help you. I shall ask them to go to you this coming week." * * * * * It wasn't a driving rain, just a gentle drizzle that made the lanes muddy and plastered Eckert's tunic against him. He didn't mind it; the rain was warm and the trees and grass smelled good in the wet. "How would you classify the culture after seeing the ceremony, Ted?" Templin asked. "About what you would expect. An Apollonian culture, simple and dignified. Nothing in excess, no striving for great emotional release." Templin nodded soberly. "It grows on you, doesn't it? You find yourself getting to like the place. And I suppose that's dangerous, too. You tend to let your guard down, the way Pendleton must have. You--what was that?" Eckert tensed. There was a gentle padding in the mud, several hundred feet behind them. Templin flattened himself in the shadows alongside a house. His hand darted inside his tunic and came out with the slim deadliness of a needle gun. "Don't use it!" Eckert whispered tersely. Templin's eyes were thin, frightened slits in the darkness. "Why not?" Eckert's mind raced. It might be nothing at all, and then again it might be disaster. But there was still a chance that Templin might be wrong. And there were more immediate reasons. "How many charges do you have for that?" "Twelve." "You think you can stand there and hold them off with only twelve charges for your needle gun?" "There's my power pack." "It's no good," Eckert said softly. "The batteries in it are dead. I was afraid you might do something foolish with it." The footsteps were only yards away. He listened intently, but it was hard to tell how many there were by the sound. "What do we do then?" "See if they're following us first," Eckert said practically. "They might not be, you know." They slid out from the shadows and ducked down another lane between the houses. The footsteps behind them speeded up and came down the same lane. "We'll have to head back for our house," Eckert whispered. They started running as quietly as they could, slipping and sliding in the mud. Another stretch past the shuttered, crouching houses and they found themselves in the square they had visited on the day they had landed. It was deserted, the looms and pottery wheels covered with cloth and reeds to keep off the rain. They darted across it, two thin shadows racing across the open plaza, and hurried down another path. The last path led to the small river that cut through the city. Templin looked around, gestured to Eckert, waded into the water and crouched under the small bridge that spanned it. Eckert swore silently to himself, then followed Templin in.