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over the shoulder of the deep amber robe.
    â€œI’m a regular work of art,” murmured Danetta as she and Rhys marched side-by-side into the Pa-Kai village. Behind them, arrayed in shamanistic splendor, walked Rick and Yoshi, while bringing up the rear was a borrowed steward from one of the shuttles, carrying the Tanaka banner on its tall pole.
    â€œWait till you see the other Chieftains,” said Rhys. “Believe me, you’ll fit right in.”
    She did that, creating quite a stir among the Pa-Kai as they gathered to greet her and admire her finery. Rhys, meanwhile, kept his eyes open for the Bristol-Benz party. He couldn’t have missed them if he’d kept them closed. As the horns blew, announcing the arrival of the Pa-Kai Eldest, the Bristol-Benz “Chieftain” arrived at the entrance to the tribal commons, carried on a pallet by four crewmen, each hefting a lit torch. The Eldest’s pallet reached the same spot at the same moment. For a second, the two passengers stared at each other, then Zarber’s ringer made a cool, sweeping gesture for the Eldest to precede him.
    Rhys watched Pa-Lili closely, catching the telltale shake of her head and the sour face she made. He smiled and relaxed. Trust Zarber to overplay a scene.
    When Danetta had mounted her own tastefully decorated pallet and everyone was seated about the huge central bonfire, two things stood out in plain relief—one was the elevated pallet of the Pa-Kai Eldest and the other was the equally elevated pallet of the Bristol-Benz impostor. For a second time, the two Chieftains looked at each other—one cool, the other at least seeming to be.
    Rhys glanced over at Zarber, who, in an obvious effort to play Rhys at what he believed was his own game, had affected a bright red sash and matching beret for the occasion. Zarber gazed back, an impossibly smug, albeit dignified, expression on his bruised and lacerated face. He smiled, displaying a black hole where once an incisor had been.
    The Pa-Kai Eldest spoke. “Tell me, O Chieftain Benz,” he said, “When did you develop this infirmity?”
    The other “Chief” blinked and glanced down at his “Shaman.” Zarber shook his head, still watching the Pa-Kai for some clue.
    â€œPardon, O Eldest One,” said the impostor coolly. “Your meaning flies by me.”
    â€œYou are carried here on a tray. I ask what infirmity you have sustained since earlier today which causes this?”
    Rhys had to admire the way Zarber slipped smoothly into the awkward silence. “My Chieftain was so distressed upon hearing of my own accident earlier that he attempted to hurry to my aid. He slipped on the entry ramp of our ship and fell, spraining his foot.” He finished the narration with a face that said, “How noble is my Chieftain. How humble am I.”
    Rhys wanted to guffaw. The only thing that kept him from doing so was his native sense of courtesy... .and the fact that Zarber’s quick thinking had retrieved Bristol-Benz from what should have been an embarrassing situation. Hell, he’d done better than retrieve it. “Chieftain Benz” now looked like a sensitive, noble being and one hell of a nice guy—in Pa-Kai terms, a hero. Zarber’s dignified bearing had finally made a favorable impression—it made him seem humble in a twisted sort of way.
    Rhys glanced around at the solicitous expressions on the mobile Pa-Kai faces. Their sympathy was neither disguised nor feigned. The Eldest leaned toward the injured stalwart and engaged him in private conversation, the gist of which was lost on Rhys, who could only hear the fluting trills at the ends of certain phrases. Zarber was nearly grinning.
    Rhys gritted his teeth. Maybe that old adage was true; maybe nice guys really did finish last. Maybe he should learn to play people like Zarber by their own rules.
    He barely noticed the food being served, but sat pondering his