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It would be easy for him to avoid her questions, lead her hundreds of kilometres, then demand payment as he wanted. The onus would be on her to pay up. She was having none of that. And she had detected a flaw in his character.
    "We'll decide now," she stated. "You might as well know that I've penetrated your disguise, such as it is. I know you're not Z'agoubya. Who are you?"
    The bald declaration unnerved him. His hands trembled for a few seconds before he took charge of himself. He shrugged, looked at the eyes in the road, glanced up at her. "My fee is one cowrie per day. I will pay my own board, when such luxury is available. As for my identity…"
    He hesitated, glancing at the spearmen, then gesturing them away. "The truth is I am wanted in Ashanti City. I used to deal in illegal optical processors. There, you have it." He tipped his head toward her. "My name is Msavitar, and I am still glad to be at your service. Nshalla, we will make Timbuktu, I promise on the grave of my mother."
    "We'll see."
    Then he asked her, "For future reference, how did you know?"
    Nshalla began to walk away from the city. He followed, glancing back at the walls like a nervous puppy, skittering two nervous steps for her one. She made him wait for some minutes before replying, "I looked at a few maps when I visted the Golden Library, and I'm sure it's not a coincidence that the maps in your transputer are exactly the same as theirs. So any professional guide would know that Ouagadougou is only half way to Timbuktu."
    He grinned, and shrugged once more. "You have me. I exaggerated because nobody likes to walk a road alone. I heard your story and wondered if we could make a team."
    Nshalla took him by the shoulder, trying to physically overwhelm him, for she was a head taller than he. "We might yet. But if you double cross me you're a dead man."
    "I most perfectly understand. It shall be as you say, oh how it will be!"
    "Are you sure?"
    "Nshalla, I have been neither to Ouagadougou nor Timbuktu, but on my honour I am well travelled. You must believe me."
    Nshalla nodded. "Then let's start."
    ~
    The next day felt like the loneliest Nshalla had so far experienced. Out in lightly wooded savanna once again, the sun burning her back and a silent Msavitar two steps behind her, she missed Gmoulaye more than anything else. At least Gmoulaye chatted. Msavitar said nothing unless it was germane to their journey, offering no observations, no jokes, no small talk. Nshalla began to feel she had made a mistake.
    One cowrie a day seemed excessive as a fee. Realising that many days would offer him nothing more challenging than finding the shallowest part of a stream, Nshalla made new conditions. He would be paid one cowrie on those days where he proved his worth. Five days of uneventful walking would not accrue him five cowries. He protested, but Nshalla insisted. "If you don't like it, leave," she told him.
    He grinned, but he did not like it. For a few moments Nshalla was again reminded of the expression on the vendor's face.
    As the sun sank westward into crimson splashed clouds, Nshalla began to look for a likely campsite. She scanned the rolling landscape ahead. The road, its eyes sparkling now evening was drawing in, was already fading, and soon they would be crossing more open country. Far off she could see the eye line end upon a hill. No more access to the optical networks.
    On the horizon she saw smoke from a village fire. A few antelope grazed. Nearby, egrets stood on the ends of tree branches.
    The only shelter was provided by a baobab tree. It had been struck down by a storm, but some roots had remained in the ground, and so it had survived, its bole curving upward. Msavitar, perhaps sensing something of Nshalla's reserve, waited until she dropped her bedroll, then dumped his belongings on the opposite side of the tree. He started a fire on his side.
    Evening sounds oppressed Nshalla. Insects chirrupped and buzzed, bats squeaked, distant hyenas