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a young boy. Both wore nearly identical outfits that consisted of red pillbox-style hats, matching robes, and leather sandals. Rebo noticed that Qwa bowed to the youngster first. “Greetings, Excellencies,” Qwa said respectfully. “Please allow me to introduce Jak Rebo.”
    Being unsure of the correct etiquette, the runner delivered a short jerky bow, said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you,”and eyed the rather thin pillow that awaited him. Once on the floor Rebo sat with his legs crossed in a poor imitation of the Teon-like posture the monks adopted.
    â€œMy name is Dak Babukas,” the elder monk announced, “and the young man to my left is presently referred to as Tra Lee, although we believe that he has lived many previous lives, including his recent incarnation as a teacher called Nom Maa. Now, after years of preparation, the time has come for Tra to make the journey to the city of CaCanth on the planet Thara. Once there he will undergo certain tests, and assuming that he passes them, will take his rightful place as Inwa, or leader of leaders. Your task is to get him there alive.”
    Rebo frowned. Though interested in a trip to Thara, there was a considerable difference between delivering a package and a person. Of course such runs were not unknown. In fact, he had handled two such assignments during his career. And, because both individuals had been difficult to get along with, the runner had sworn that he would never accept such a commission again. More than that, Rebo sensed something fishy about the proposal and looked the older monk in the eye. “You have more security than the governor does. So, why hire me? Why not send a squad of your warriors along as escorts?”
    The boy remained silent as the adult monks exchanged glances and Qwa spoke. “Our religion consists of two sects, generally referred to as the red hats and the black hats, although the real differences are based on theology rather than fashion. Twelve years ago the sixteenth Nom Maa passed into spirit without naming a successor. That led to a power vacuum, which resulted in competition between the two sects and what amounts to an administrative stalemate. However, now that Tra Lee has completed his training, he is ready to take the throne.”
    â€œYes,” Babukas agreed, “except that the black hats claim that one of their boys is the real Nom Maa, and based on that assertion, believe that he should ascend the throne.”
    â€œThat’s correct,” Qwa put in, “and there’s more. The black hats may seek to prevent the Divine Wind from reaching Thara.”
    â€œMay?” Rebo inquired pointedly. “Or will? ”
    â€œThere is no way to know for sure,” Qwa replied carefully, “but the odds favor some sort of assassination attempt.”
    â€œWhich brings us back to where we started,” the runner said. “Why me?”
    â€œBecause an escort of Dib Wa would attract a lot of attention,” Babukas answered honestly. “There are thieves to consider . . . and the black hats can muster as many warriors as we can. But a father and son? No one is likely to notice such a pair.”
    â€œ If I had a son, which I don’t,” the runner remarked, “he wouldn’t be bald.”
    â€œA wig has been prepared,” Qwa replied smoothly, “and appropriate clothes would be provided as well.”
    There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, which was broken when Tra Lee spoke for the first time. “I don’t believe that Citizen Rebo is being entirely frank with us. He was willing to accept the assignment until he learned the true nature of the package involved. Now he has doubts. So, Citizen Rebo, what can I do or say to convince you that I will be a minimum amount of trouble?”
    The runner looked into Tra Lee’s eyes and saw unexpected depths there. The little boy sounded more like an adult than a nine- or