"Oh, they are diabolic, these Specials of Vaajo's! They have machines which tear a man's mind apart, probe into his inner thoughts. No spy could ever get past them."
"Then how do you propose to get by, O grinning one?"
The black continued to grin. "True," he said frankly, "I am S'Relah. And there are several others among us. We shall get by the Specials all right, and into Turibek by the main gate. For the past year we have prepared for this, through systematic thought-control. We can submerge our true thoughts so that all the machines will read will be obeisance and loyalty."
"Seems ticklish," Ketrik said. "But I guess I'll try that too." He had no intention of trying it. He was watching Aarnto's reaction.
"Listen to me." Aarnto was serious, gripping Ketrik's arm. "You could never manage it. It takes months to perfect such mind control, and you have only hours. I do not know why you wish to get to Turibek, but you quoted the oath to me. I know of another way into the city for you—it will be perilous but not so perilous as trying to run the gauntlet of Specials!"
"I am listening, O helpful one."
"We will reach this station before sundown. If you should leave the caravan now, and cut across desert to the foothills, you would be safe. Once over there...."
Now it was Ketrik who grinned. "I know. Once over there, I might find the entrance to the ancient South Canal."
Aarnto was amazed. "You know of that too?"
"I've heard of it, but don't know the exact location."