"But I know what you're figuring," said the spacer. "The excuse will be that you're willing to take your chance with the Skirkhi choice, or that you don't want to stir up trouble because of the girl; but actually you think I'm the natural candidate!"
"Mr. Guthrie!" exclaimed Karen, jumping up.
"Pardon me! I have to go and commune with the spirits of the sky!"
He pivoted toward the street and bounced off one of the guards who had crept closer to eavesdrop. Automatically, he shoved the Skirkh into the wall.
Behind him, he heard a muttered curse in Skirkhi, then another thud as a thick skull clunked yet again into the wall. He deduced that Polf was following both his footsteps and his example.
They walked out toward the hill where he and Polf had sat the day the rocket had flared down from the sky. Two pale crescents hovered on the horizon.
"There will still be Yiv in the night," muttered Polf, "but soon he will follow Jhux and there will be no moon. Then come storms."
Guthrie recalled his surprise at the natives' awareness of Yiv, a small satellite whose distance made it appear merely an enormous star. He had noted it from space, but they must have realized its nature from regular observation.
They walked a few minutes, when Polf peered slyly at him.