The language of the Tsla was slow and languorous, a startling contrast to the fast-paced singsong of the Mai. Etienne found himself impatient for the Keeper to continue.

“Thee are welcome here. We hope that thy visit will honor us.”

Polite, open, with none of the double meanings the Mai attached to such phrases of greeting. Despite his initial reservations Etienne found himself developing a fondness for the Tsla. There was a graciousness about this creature no Mai had displayed, not even the obsequious Ambassador Ror de-Kelwhoang of Po Rabi.

“Follow me and I will take you to a place of rest. Thy friends,” he added with a barely perceptible hint of distaste as he indicated the porters, “are also welcome.”

“Most generous of thee,” Lyra replied properly as the Tsla turned to lead them into the town.

Their escort kept up a fair pace, moving with deliberation so as not to tire the visitors. Instead of lifting each foot and then setting it ahead and down, the Tsla moved with a gait more shuffle and slide. The cape covering the creature’s broad back was dark brown split by a single yellow stripe running down the middle. This simple motif was present on the toga as well. Etienne found himself unexpectedly pleased by the sight of another intelligent creature with hair. Baldness was the norm not only among the Mai but the thranx as well.

After they entered the town, each Tsla they encountered marked their passage by duplicating the Keeper’s raising of hands, as if they were caressing the air. The Mai muttered among themselves and packed into a tight knot behind the humans. Etienne wondered at their paranoia, which was typically Mai. There was no suggestion of treachery here.

Clusters of Tsla children followed a polite distance behind, wiggling curious stubs of snouts as they took the scent of the peculiar strangers. Before too long the Keeper halted outside a long barnlike building with a gently curving roof. It resembled a broken olla set on its side against the earth.

“This is the Trade Place,” one of the porters said. “I was here once before, though I did not stay long.”

The Keeper beckoned them to enter. Inside it was dark and cool. Off to the right they found a row of interconnected chambers with skylights set into the curving ceiling. The glass was well-fashioned, with few bubbles. It was a good twenty degrees warmer in the room than it had been out in the hallway.

“For thy friends,” the Keeper announced, “and for thee as well if you so desire.”

“No, thanks.” Etienne watched the Mai pile joyfully into the big room and stand with their faces turned up to the sunlight. They divested themselves of their burdens without being told. “I think we’d prefer the type of room you use yourselves.”

“As thee wish.” The Keeper took them back out into the hall and led them farther into the building to a smaller room full of the aroma of fresh incense.

“If this suits thee, I must leave now.”

“It suits,” Etienne said.

Lyra was running a hand over the near wall. “Look at this, Etienne. The entire inside wall is glazed, like a big pot!”

He let his fingers touch the slick surface. “Watertight and cool in summer, reflects the heat of a fire in winter.” The single skylight did not trap the heat as did those in the porters’ room. A window at eyelevel allowed a view outside to the paved street.

After a time a second Tsla joined them. He was taller than the Keeper and stood a little straighter while still displaying the curved upper spine. He wore a similar toga and cape arrangement, but this one was black with two gold stripes dividing it.

“I am Tyl. I have the honor to be thy host and guide during thy visit to Turput.” He made no secret of his own curiosity regarding the strangers. “Anything thee wish thee have but to ask and if it can be provided it will.”

“We can’t stay long,” Etienne replied, choosing to ignore his wife’s radiant expression. She was in xenosociological heaven. “We left our boat down on the Skar and we have to return there soon.”

“Never mind that now. Tyl, we want to see everything we can. It’s true we have little time, but I want to learn as much as possible about thy people and their customs, their way of life. That is my job.”

“Worthy scholarship,” said Tyl. He had an unexpectedly deep voice that came rolling out in breathy, rounded syllables from beneath the flexible snout. “If thy time is constrained thee must listen close as well as look. Tomorrow, if arrangements can be made, I will take thee to the temple of Moraung Motau.”

“Maybe we’d like to see something else first.”

“Etienne! Don’t be impolite. You’ve been too long among the Mai. I swear, you’re starting to act like a riverfront merchant.”

He was too tired to bicker with her, simply turned away and examined the wall while she continued to converse with Tyl.

“If thee prefer,” their host said, “there is a little time left to the day. We could begin now.”

“Not on your—thy—life.” Etienne headed for a padded bench that obviously was designed to serve as a couch or bed or both. “I’m worn out.”

“Well I’m not,” Lyra snapped. “You may show me around if thee wish, Tyl.”

“My greatest honor.”

Etienne thought of a suitably sarcastic rejoinder but found it hard to find a reason for spiting the Tsla’s courtesy. He said nothing as they departed. The sound of chimes and bells was like a sedative and the couch-bed surprisingly comfortable. Before he knew it he was sound asleep.

Light from a candle set in a glass dish on a high shelf awakened him. No doubt it had been lit carefully while he slept by some conscientious servitor.

“Wake up, I said.”

He rolled over, found himself staring up at his wife’s excited face. He rubbed tiredly at his heavy eyes. “What is it?”

“Etienne, Tyl took me through half the town, by torchlight. The system of government these people have developed is unique to sentients in this technological classification! These Tsla are a xenological wonder. Do you know that the spiritual administrators—and they’re not priests, more the equivalent of primitive psychoanalysts—actually hold half the seats of government?”

“That’s interesting.” He began to roll over but she put a hand out to restrain him. He looked irritatedly back over his shoulder.

“Etienne, listen to me! This social structure is unprecedented. This is a presteam civilization, yet the people are socially advanced enough to pay extraordinary attention to something as sophisticated as mental health. They don’t define it quite like that, of course, but it comes out the same. They may be the stablest primitive alien society yet encountered, and they do this without holding any unwarranted illusions about themselves.

“No wonder the Mai fear and suspect them! The Tsla are so much better balanced. The Tsla have come to terms with the health of their minds earlier than most peoples do with the condition of their bodies. Even Martinson’s work on Alaspin is proof of it. This discovery, Etienne, it’s worth all the trouble of making the expedition.” She stood and began to pace the room.

“The Tsla are special, unique. There’s more than a chip monograph here, there’s an entire volume.”

“I’m thrilled for you.” He let out a helpless yawn. “Do keep in mind that we have half a river left to explore.”

She started to comment, changed her mind in midthought. “You’re exhausted, Etienne. We’ll discuss this in the morning.”

“You should be exhausted too.”

“I know, but I can’t hold back the enthusiasm. I’m running on adrenalin, Etienne, and I have to share this with someone. Who else if not you?” She hesitated and added in an odd tone of voice, “Tyl would be interested.”

“Tyl strikes me as a good listener.” Etienne pulled the light blanket up around his neck.

“He is, and a good talker as well. From all I was able to discern he’s regarded very well by his fellow Tsla. I watched him perform his evening prann. Beneath all those robes and cloaks they wear, some of these people are very impressive physical specimens, Etienne. Much more impressive than the Mai.”

“Makes sense. The climate up here’s less benign and working steep terraces requires more strength than tending to a floodplain.”

“Yes. Much more in the way of physical strength,” she murmured.

“I’m glad you had such a profitable evening. Now if you don’t mind, I really was enjoying my sleep.”

“Sorry. Inconsiderate of me.” She tiptoed backward from the room. “I’ll leave you now, Etienne, and I’ll try not to wake you when I return. I have to find Tyl.”

“Sure,” he mumbled, already half-conscious again, “go find Tyl.”

He felt much refreshed the next morning. The sun was shining brightly through the skylight and window and a basin of clear cold water was waiting for him by the foot of his bed. It was the best night’s sleep he’d had since leaving Steamer Station.