"I'm in for it now," Simms muttered. "That devil will warn the whole village."
His words were a prediction. Before he had gone fifty yards more a squad of Kamali guardsmen advanced upon him. They wore skins of Chabla cat and red headdresses formed of patani, the Venusian swamp flower.
But Simms, though new to the Service, had had experience with interior villages before. Quietly he handed over his heat gun, let his wrists be bound, permitted himself to be escorted down the walk.
The village opened before him. Simms saw a double row of rectangular huts formed of white carponium. In the center a round hut marked the quarters of the Oligarch and before this structure a taller Kamali stood, wearing a headdress formed of some brownish plastic.
Simms bowed and held his message-tube in his bound hands before him in the formality expected.
"Lieutenant Simms," he said, "Sixth Venusian Colonials, bound Post One to general headquarters at BeTaba. I bring you information, oh mighty one, which it will pay you to hear."
The Oligarch's eyes contracted. He motioned Simms to continue.
"Three Earth men," the lieutenant said, "are headed for your village. They...."
His voice died off. Behind the Oligarch three familiar figures suddenly appeared in the doorway. In the foreground stood Halleck, smoking a cigarette, eyes filled with triumph. Behind him lounged Gately and Sterns. The heat-gun scar on the latter's face seemed deeper and redder than before.
"I'm afraid you're too late, Simms," Halleck said. "I've already explained to his highness that you've come to this village to steal his Deleon Salts. I think you know what that means."