Some moments earlier, Brad had learned first, that Kruvny was the name
of this unusual culture, and second, that the High Kruv himself,
attended by all his nobles, would see him. Brad had then entered the
Kruv Chamber, or Trapeze Room, and he had learned nothing since. It
was all true, he told himself. The High Kruv _was_ hanging by his toes
from a trapeze, and so were all his nobles. The only difference was
that the High Kruv's trapeze was more ornate than the rest. Yes, said
Brad to himself, it was all true; he had been shaking and punching his
head, and nothing had changed.

"I come," he said, "from a far away land--"

"Shad-dap!" cried the Kruv. "Who cares?"

At this, the old man, who was still on his bicycle, whispered to Brad.
"They've all got headaches," he nodded, stroking his beard
sagebrushly. "It's all part of a great cosmic error--a tragedy played
among the spiral nebulae, to the hollow ringing laughter of the gods!
You see, we Sloths are only half the population of Kruvny," he went
on. "On the other side of our world live the Sidemen, or Sad Sax.
Legend has it that eons ago, the Sidemen were mistakenly delivered a
cargo of saxophones, from Saks Fifth Avenue." The old man's voice was
hushed as he added, "They have been practicing ever since."

"I see," said Brad. "And that accounts for the headaches here?"

"Small wonder," said the old man. "I bless the day I went deaf."

"But why do they do it?" asked Brad.

"The Sidemen? They're tryin' to drive us off'n the ranch--the planet,
I mean. Yuh see, they claim they _made_ this whole durned gallstone
theirselves!"

"_Made_ it?" asked Brad, dully.

"Uh-huh." The old man spat Mercurian tobacco juice. "Just like on
Earth, where myriad minute oceanic organisms pile their skeletons to
form coral islands. Yuh see, the Sidemen eat radishes--love 'em, in
fact--but it gives 'em gallstones. They claim this whole world is the
collected gallstones of their ancestors." The old man wiped Mercurian
tobacco juice from his beard and shoes. "Kind of a hard claim to
beat," he opined.

"I see," said Brad. "That explains the misty swirling clouds all
around this planet, and why it's seldom visible. You follow me?"

"Yep," said the old man. "It's gas. Them radishes'll turn on you every
time!"

Suddenly the High Kruv began to sob. "Now you see, don't you, why we
haven't attacked Earth? A body can't keep his mind on anything around
here! I asked for a few secret weapons, a