"Weelbrrr! You're a man of marvels! Hello! We will drink!"
And Murphy settled back in the wicker chair, sipping his rice beer.
"Today," said Murphy, "I get into a space-suit, and ride out to the ruins in the plain. Ghatamipol, I think they're called. Like to come?"
"No, Weelbrrr." Soek Panjoebang looked off into the garden, her hands busy tucking a flower into her hair. A few minutes later she said, "Why must you waste your time among the rocks? There are better things to do and see. And it might well be—dangerous." She murmured the last word off-handedly.
"Danger? From the sjambaks?"
"Yes, perhaps."
"The Sultan's giving me a guard. Twenty men with crossbows."
"The sjambaks carry shields."
"Why should they risk their lives attacking me?"