Tangaloa asked: "Have you facilities for intensive linguistic training?"
"Yes, we have a flash-card machine and a set of recordings, and Senhorita Foley can give you colloquial speech practice. You should spend a few days anyway brushing' up on Krishnan social behavior."
When they had agreed to his suggestion of going as Nya-men, Castanhoso said: "I shall give you Nyami names. Senhor Jorge, you are—uh—what are a couple of good Nyami names, Senhorita?"
The girl wrinkled her forehead. "I remember there were a couple of famous Nyami adventurers—Tagde of Vyutr and Snyol of Pleshch."
"Bom. Senhor Jorge, you are Tagde of Vyutr. Senhor Dirk, you are Snyol of Pleshch. Plesh-tch, two syllables. Now, do you ride and fence? Few Earthmen do."
"I do both," said Barnevelt. "Matter of fact I even tell stories in Scottish dialect."
Tangaloa groaned. "I had to learn to ride on that expedition to Thor, though I'm no horseperson. But as for playing with swords, no! Everywhere except on these flopping Class-H planets you can go where you must in an aircraft and shoot what you must with a gun, like a sensible bloke."
"But this is not a sensible planet," replied Castanhoso. "For instance, you may not take that bathygraph of Senhor Shtain with you. It's against regulations, and any Krishnan who saw that three-dimensional image would know that here was the magic of the Earthmen. But you may have an ordinary photographic flat print made and take that.
"Let me see," the Viagens official continued. "I shall give you a letter to Gorbovast in Majbur, and he can give you one to the Queen of Qirib, who may be willing to help you thence-forward. If she is not to know you are Earthmen, what excuse should you give for yourselves?"
Barnevelt asked: "Don't people go to the Banjao Sea on legitimate business?"
"But yes! They hunt the gvam for its stones."
Tangaloa said: "You mean that thing something like a swordfish and something like a giant squid?"
"That is it. You shall be gvam hunters. The stones from their stomachs are priceless because of the Krishnan belief that no woman can resist a man who carries one."
"Just the thing for you, Dirk," said Tangaloa.
"Oh, foof!" said Barnevelt. "Having no faith in the thing, I'm afraid it would be priceless to me but in the other sense. What time is it, Senhor Herculeu? We've been cooped up in that egg crate so long we've lost touch with objective time."
"Late afternoon—just about our quitting-time."
"Well, what d'you do for that seventeen o'clock feeling?" Castanhoso grinned. "The Nova Iorque Bar is in the next compound. If you gentlemen…"
CHAPTER IV
The greenish sky had almost cleared; the setting sun threw reds and purples on the undersides of the remaining clouds. The plain concrete buildings were arranged in rectangles whose outsides were blank wall, all the doors and windows opening onto the central courts.
In the bar Castanhoso said: "Try a mug of kvad, since that is the chief distilled liquor of Krishna."
"I hope," replied Barnevelt, "it's not made by native women chewing and spitting, the way they do where George comes from."
Castanhoso made a face. As they ordered, a high, harsh voice called out: "Zeft, zeft! Ghuvoi zu! Zeft!"
Barnevelt peered around the partition between their booth and the next and saw a large red-yellow-and-blue macaw on a perch.
"That is Philo," said Castanhoso. "Mirza Fateh brought him in on the last ship, the one that also landed the man who might be your Dr. Shtain."
"Why did he leave the bird here?" asked Barnevelt.
"The regulations made us keep that bird for a quarantine period, and Mirza was in a hurry to get to a convention of his sect in Mishe. So he gave the parrot to Abreu, my chief, who gave him to me after he had bitten Senhora Abreu. You gentlemen don't need a parrot, do you?"
As the explorers shook their heads, the macaw shrieked: "Zeft! Baghan!"
"Somebody taught him all the obscenities of Gozashtandon," said Castanhoso. "When we have proper Krishnan guests we hide him."
Barnevelt asked: "Who's this Mirza Fateh? Sounds like an Iranian name."
"It is. He is a Cosmotheist missionary, a little fat fellow who wanders back and forth among the Cetic planets promoting his cult."
"I've been in Iran," said Tangaloa. "Hang of a country."
Castanhoso continued: "We hadn't seen Senhor Mirza for many years, since he went back to Earth to get the Word from the head of his cult."
Tangaloa said: "You mean that Madame von Zschaetzsch? Who claims to be a reincarnation of Franklin Roosevelt and to get her inspiration by telepathy from an immortal Imam who lives in a cave in the Antarctic ice-cap?"
"The same. Anyway, Mirza has been working this region for over a century. A curious character: sincere, I think, in his supernatural beliefs, and kindhearted, but not to be trusted for a minute. He was caught cheating at gambling on Vishnu."
Barnevelt said: "A rogue in grain, veneered in sanctimonious theory."
"So-yes? He has his troubles too, poor fellow. A couple of decades ago, just before he returned to Earth, he lost his wife and daughter here on Krishna."
"I thought Cosmotheists were celibates?"
"They are, and I have heard Mirza explain with tears running down his fat face that his misfortune was the result of violating that tabu."
"How'd it happen?"
"They were going by train from Majbur to Jazmurian (where you will be going) when a band of robbers ambushed the train. Mirza's wife was killed by an arrow. Mirza, who is not notable for courage, escaped by shamming dead, and when he opened his eyes the little girl was gone. No doubt the robbers took her to sell into slavery."
Tangaloa said: "Fascinating, but tell us more about Qirib."
"To be sure. Qirib is called a kingdom, but I suppose it should be 'queendom.' It's a matriarchal state, founded long ago by Queen Dejanai. Not only do the females run the country; they have a strange custom: The queen chooses a man for her consort, and after he has served for a year they kill him with much ceremony and choose another."
Tangaloa exclaimed: "Like some early agricultural cultures on Earth! Ancient Malabar, for instance…"
"I shouldn't think," said Barnevelt, "there'd be much competition for the siege perilous. There must be an easier way to make a living, even on Krishna."
Castanhoso shrugged. "The poor men have nothing to say. They are chosen by lot, though I hear the lots are sometimes rigged. There is a movement to replace the actual execution by a symbolic one—they would just nick the outgoing king a little—but the conservatives of course object that such a change would enrage the fertility goddess, in whose honor this gruesome ceremony is observed."
Barnevelt asked: "Is there any chance they'd choose one of us for the honor? It's one I could stand missing."
"No, no, only citizens of Qirib are eligible. However, you must take some sort of present for Queen Alvandi."
"Hm," said Barnevelt. "Well, George, I suppose the expense account will have to take another sock…"
"Wait a spell!" said Tangaloa, looking with liquid eyes towards the macaw. "How would that cockatoo do? I don't suppose the queen has any Earthly birds, has she?"
"Just the thing!" said Castanhoso. "It will cost you nothing, for I am glad to get rid of the creature."
"Hey!" said Barnevelt. "Much as I love animals, I'm allergic to feathers!"
"That's all right," said Tangaloa. "I shall carry the cage, and you the rest of our gear."
Castanhoso added: "You must warn the queen that Philo is not to be trusted."
Barnevelt said: "Actually he's probably grumpy because he hasn't seen a lady macaw in a long time."
"That may be, but as the nearest one is twelve light-years away, he will have to put up with it."