It was high noon when Jal Thurlo wakened him. The little Martian seemed strangely perturbed. "My friend, there is one at the alley entrance who asks for you!"
"For me?" Ketrik was up instantly and began dressing with deft, precise fingers. Who else would know that he had arrived in Turibek? But his mind was put at ease when he reached the rear entrance. Standing before him was the somewhat bedraggled but still grinning figure of Aarnto, the caravan leader.
"Did I not say, Khosan, that the day would soon come when you could repay me? I remembered well your mention of this shop!" And when Ketrik hesitated, he went on, "Well, O fugitive of the dark tunnels—am I not permitted entrance?"
"Come in—quickly!"
Aarnto waved a hand cheerily. "There is no need for alarm. I entered through the city gates as I said I would. The others have gone to the temple, but not I. I will need a place...."
Thurlo frowned. Ketrik said, "It's all right, Thurlo. Aarnto's a friend of mine. Please allow him to stay. I owe a debt too." He turned to Aarnto. "But listen! Don't draw the Specials here. I can't afford that!"
"I am caution itself, my friend! I too have a mission here. Perhaps one night's sanctuary is all I shall ask, and your debt is paid." The black still smiled—with all but his eyes. Behind them Ketrik detected a hardness and cunning, together with a warning not to ask questions.
Ketrik had no intention of doing that, but he made a resolution to watch this one. If their paths here should ever chance to cross, Aarnto would be a tough one indeed! Ketrik left him in Thurlo's capable but somewhat reluctant hands, while he prepared himself for his tour of the city.
From the Street of the Double Moon, he emerged into the broader thoroughfare. Turibek was the metropolis of the south, boasting of theatres, cafés and shopping centers, as well as a magnificent spaceport.