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〃The MerrowTi' Ti' doesn't exist。〃
〃That was a joke； Pie；〃 Gentle said； dead pan。
〃I missed the humor of it； I'm sorry；〃 the mystif said； unsmiling。 〃Their crime…〃 It stopped and crossed the aisle to sit opposite Gentle； claiming the paper from his hands before continuing。 〃Their crime is far more significant；〃 it went on； its voice lowered。 It began to read in the same whisper； precising the text of the paper。 〃They were executed a week ago for making an attempt on the Autarch's life while he and his entourage were on their peace mission in Vanaeph…〃
〃Are you kidding？〃
〃No joke。 That's what it says。〃
〃Did they succeed？〃
〃Of course not。〃 The mystif fell silent while it scanned the columns。 〃It says they killed three of his advisers with a bomb and injured eleven soldiers。 The device was 。 。 。 wait； my Omootajivac is rusty 。 。 。 the device was smuggled into his presence by Pontiff Farrow。 They were all caught alive； it says； but hanged dead； which means they died under torture but the Autarch made a show of the execution anyway。〃
〃That's fucking barbaric。〃
〃It's very mon； particularly in political trials。〃
〃What about Tick Raw？ Why's his picture in there？〃
〃He was named as a co…conspirator； but apparently he escaped。 The damn fool！〃
〃Why'd you call him that？〃
〃Getting involved in politics when there's so much more at stake。 It's not the first time； of course； and won't be the last…〃
〃I'm not following。〃
〃People get frustrated with waiting and they end up stooping to politics。 But it's so shortsighted。 Stupid sod。〃
〃How well do you know him？〃
〃Who？ Tick Raw？〃 The placid features were momentarily confounded。 Then Pie said； 〃He has。 。 。 a certain reputation； shall we say？ They'll find him for certain。 There isn't a sewer in the Dominions he'll be able to hide his head in。〃
〃Why should you care？〃
〃Keep your voice down。〃
〃Answer the question；〃 Gentle replied； dropping his volume as he spoke。
〃He was a Maestro； Gentle。 He called himself an evocator； but it amounts to the same thing： he had power。〃
〃Then why was he living in the middle of a shithole like Vanaeph？〃
〃Not everybody cares about wealth and women； Gentle。 Some souls have higher ambition。〃
〃Such as？〃
〃Wisdom。 Remember why we came on this journey？ To understand。 That's a fine ambition。〃 Pie looked at Gentle； making eye…to…eye contact for the first time since the episode on the platform。 〃Your ambition； my friend。 You and Tick Raw had a lot in mon。〃
〃And he knew it？〃
〃Oh； yes。 。 。。〃
〃Is that why he was so riled when I wouldn't sit down and talk with him？〃
〃I'd say so。〃
〃Shit！〃 〃Hammeryock and Farrow must have taken us for spies； e to wheedle out plots laid against the Autarch。〃
〃But Tick Raw saw the truth。〃
〃He did。 He was once a great man； Gentle。 At least。 。 。 that was the rumor。 Now I suppose he's dead or being tortured。 Which is grim news for us。〃
〃You think he'll name us？〃
〃Who knows？ Maestros have ways of protecting themselves from torture； but even the strongest man can break under the right kind of pressure。〃
〃Are you saying we've got the Autarch on our tails？〃
〃I think we'd know it if we had。 We've e a long way from Vanaeph。 The trail's probably cold by now。〃
〃And maybe they didn't arrest Tick； eh？ Maybe he escaped。〃
〃They still caught Hammeryock and the Pontiff。 I think we can assume they've got a hair…by…hair description of us。〃
Gentle laid his head back against the seat。 〃Shit；〃 he said。 〃We're not making many friends； are we？〃
〃All the more reason that we don't lose each other；〃 the mystif replied。 The shadows of passing bamboo flickered on its face； but it looked at him unblinking。 〃Whatever harm you believe I may have done you； now or in the past； I apologize for it。 I'd never wish you any hurt； Gentle。 Please believe that。 Not the slightest。〃
〃I know；〃 Gentle murmured； 〃and I'm sorry too； truly。〃
〃Shall we agree to postpone our argument until the only opponents we've got left in the Imajica are each other？〃
〃That may be a very long time。〃
〃AH the better。〃
Gentle laughed。 〃Agreed；〃 he said； leaning forward and taking the mystif s hand。 〃We've seen some amazing sights together； haven't we？〃
〃Indeed we have。〃
〃Back there in Mai…ke I was losing my sense of how marvelous all this is。〃
〃We've got a lot more wonders to see。〃
〃Just promise me one thing？〃 〃Ask it。〃
〃Don't eat raw fish in eyeshot of me again。 It's more than a man can take。〃
From the yearning way that Hairstone Banty had described L'Himby； Gentle had been expecting some kind of Khat…mandu…a city of temples； pilgrims； and free dope。 Perhaps it had been that way once； in Banty's long…lost youth。 But when； a few minutes after night had fallen； Gentle and Pie stepped off the train； it was not into an atmosphere of spiritual calm。 There were soldiers at the station gates； most of them standing idle； smoking and talking； but a few casting their eyes over the disembarking passengers。 As luck had it； however； another train had arrived at an adjacent platform minutes before； and the gateway was choked with passengers； many hugging their life's belongings。 It wasn't difficult for Pie and Gentle to dig their way through to the densest part of the crowd and pass unnoticed through the turnstiles and out of the station。
There were many more troops in the wide lamplit streets； their presence no less disturbing for the air of lassitude that hung about them。 The unmissioned ranks wore a drab gray； but the officers wore white； which suited the subtropical night。 All were conspicuously armed。 Gentle made certain not to study either men or weaponry too closely for fear of attracting unwele attention； but it was clear from even a furtive glance that both the armaments and the vehicles parked in every other alleyway were of the same elaborately intimidating design as he'd seen in Beatrix。 The warlords of Yzordderrex were clearly past masters in the crafts of death； their technology several generations beyond that of the lootive that had brought the travelers here。
To Gentle's eye the most fascinating sight was not the tanks or the machine guns； however； it was the presence among these troops of a subspecies he'd not encountered hitherto。 Oethacs； Pie called them。 They stood no taller than their fellows； but their heads made up a third or more of that height； their squat bodies grotesquely broad to bear the weight of such a massive load of bone。 Easy targets； Gentle remarked； but Pie whispered that their brains were small； their skulls thick； and their tolerance for pain heroic； the latter evidenced by the extraordinary array of livid scars and disfigurements they all bore on skin that was as white as the bone it concealed。
It seemed this substantial military presence had been in place for some time； because the populace went about their evening business as if these men and their killing machines were pletely monplace。 There was little sign of fraternization； but there was no harassment either。
〃Where do we go from here？〃 Gentle asked Pie once they were clear of the crowds around the station。
〃Scopique lives in the northeast part of the city； close to the temples。 He's a doctor。 Very well respected；〃
〃You think he may be still practicing？〃
〃He doesn't mend bones； Gentle。 He's a doctor of theology。 He used to like the city because it was so sleepy。〃
〃It's changed； then。〃
〃It certainly has。 It looks as though it's got rich。〃
There was evidence of L'Himby's newfound wealth everywhere： in the gleaming buildings； many of them looking as though the paint on their doors was barely dry； in the proliferation of styles among the pedestrians and in the number of elegant automobiles on the street。 There were a few signs still remaining of the culture that had existed here before the city's fortunes had boomed： beasts of burden still wove among the traffic； honked at and cursed； a smattering of facades had been preserved from older buildings and incorporated…usually crudely…into the designs of the newer。 And then there were the living facades； the faces of the people Gentle and Pie were mingling with。 The natives had a physical peculiarity unique to the region： clusters of small crystalline growths； yellow and purple； on their heads； sometimes arranged like crowns or coxbs but just as often erupting from the middle of the forehead or irregularly placed around the mouth。 To Pie's knowledge； they had no particular function； but they were clearly viewed as a disfigurement by the sophisticates； many of whom went to extraordinary lengths to disguise their monality of stock with the undecorated peasants。 Some of these stylists wore hats； veils； and makeup to conceal the evidence； others had tried surgery to remove the growths and went proudly about unhatted； wearing their scars as proof of their wealth。
〃It's grotesque；〃 Pie said when Gentle remarked upon this。 〃But that's the pernicious influence of fashion for you。 These people want to look like the models they see in the magazines from Patashoqua； and the stylists in Patashoqua have always looked to the Fifth for their inspiration。 Damn fools！ Look at them！ I swear if we were to spread the rumor that everyone in Paris i