"Ed, where's that Thor gun model? I've got to have something that looks and feels like a genuine Thor gun to turn in at the gate."
"Here it is, sir." The third native handed a gleaming replica of the Thor gun to the brown man. He slipped it into the holster. It fitted snugly.
"How do I look, Billy?"
Billy Kasker surveyed the brown native. He was remarkably changed. No longer did he look like one of the natives, he looked like a conqueror. "Just a little higher on the nose with the glasses. And maybe a little less stuffing inside the brim of the hat. But—can you carry off the part of the instructor?"
"I can carry it off or die trying," the brown native said.
"Good!" The two shook hands, then turned and went out the door. As they left, Billy Kasker saw that Ed was mopping the last remnants of the green blood from the floor.
"Perfect, down to the last detail," Billy Kasker said. "You're a genius at planning."
"You have to be a genius to stay alive. Okay, Billy. Here is where we go into our act."
They had moved into the street and the group had seen them. The voice that came from the brown native's mouth was the voice of the instructor, hot and angry.
"Billy, this sort of conduct is intolerable. You know better than to wander off like this. What possible explanation can you offer for your conduct?"