m His Effulgence's sanctum
to the main door. Down this lane, carried by twenty men, came a large
sedan chair.

"Protocol takes a lot of time," said His Effulgence somewhat sadly, "but
it must be observed. At least, as Ambassador, you can ride with me in
the sedan, instead of walking behind it, like Ggaran."

"I'm glad of that," said Crownwall. "Too bad Ggaran can't join us." He
climbed into the chair beside Ffallk. The bearers trotted along at seven
or eight kilometers an hour, carrying their contraption with absolute
smoothness. Blasts from horns preceded them as they went.

When they passed through the huge entrance doors of the palace and
started down the ramp toward the street, Crownwall was astonished to see
nobody on the previously crowded streets, and mentioned it to Ffallk.

"When the Viceroy of the Seventy Suns," said the Viceroy of the Seventy
Suns, "travels in state, no one but my own entourage is permitted to
watch. And my guests, of course," he added, bowing slightly to
Crownwall.

"Of course," agreed Crownwall, bowing back. "Kind of you, I'm sure. But
what happens if somebody doesn't get the word, or doesn't hear your
trumpeters, or something like that?"

Ggaran stepped forward, already panting slightly. "A man with knots in
all of his ear stalks is in a very uncomfortable position," he
explained. "Wait. Let me show you. Let us just suppose that that runner
over there"--he gestured toward a soldier with a tentacle--"is a
civilian who has been so unlucky as to remain on the street after His
Effulgence's entourage arrived." He turned to one of the bowmen who ran
beside the sedan chair, now strung and at the ready. "Show him!" he
ordered peremptorily.

In one swift movement the bowman notched an arrow, drew and fired. The
arrow hissed briefly, and then sliced smoothly through the soldier's
throat.

"You see," said Ggaran complacently, "we have very little trouble with
civilians who violate this particular tradition."

His Effulgence beckoned to the bowman to approach. "Your results were
satisfactory," he said, "but your release was somewhat shaky. The next
time you show such sloppy form, you will be given thirty lashes."

He leaned back on the cushion and spoke again to Crownwall. "That's the
trouble with these requirements of civilization. The men of my immediate
guard must practice with such things as pikes and bows and arrows, which
they seldom get an opportunity to use. It would never do for t