"Yes. We, too, go to Turibek. You knew that?"
Ketrik allowed puzzlement to show in his eyes. The other went on. "You seem surprised, Khosan. Had you not heard, then, that your emperor, Dar Vaajo, has signed a treaty with the consolidated tribes of Rajec?"
"I had not heard. And I believe you lie! The Rajecs would never make treaty!" Ketrik hoped his disbelief sounded convincing.
"It is true," the black shrugged. "But that does not matter. Your going to Turibek matters. A foolhardy thing to attempt alone!" The enigmatic smile still lingered. "But, then, being at L'Ottli for so long, you were not aware of Dar Vaajo's scouts everywhere. This area has become thick with their 'copters—especially in the last few hours!" There was calculated meaning in the last words.
Ketrik decided on a bold stroke. He said calmly, "Yes. I am aware of it now. They blasted my plane out of the sky scarcely an hour ago. Perhaps you saw that?"
"We all have observed a slight display in the sky to the west. You know—Khosan—word reaches us swiftly and in many ways. It is rumored that Vaajo's scouts are seeking to apprehend one who may come here from Earth." The black paused, but Ketrik's eyes never flickered. "They may even search this area. They know our camp is here. There should be a reward of many Martian credits for capture of the one they seek!"
Ketrik shrugged. "That explains why they fired at me. I guess they mistook me for that one."
The Rajec's smile vanished abruptly. His next questions came fast. "You are S'Relah? Why are you S'Relah?"
"Political. Irreconcilable. My father was a 'political' before me."
"Where do you go in Turibek?"