This part of town spelled trouble, Burke knew it at first glance. The fog was covering up most of the scenery, but even so he could see that the huts here were barely better built than the loam huts in that fever-stricken village back in the southern swamps. Some apes had ditched the human-style mudholes altogether and had returned to nests made from twigs and leaves; Burke wondered how they would get over the winter. Others had been more inventive and built some sort of wicker-basket tents, but Burke doubted that these constructions would protect them any better against the winter storms. The inhabitants of this quarter might be apes, but they were just as wretched as the highwaymen they had run into earlier.

People were openly staring at them, their expressions ranging from curiosity, to hostility, to sly calculation. He had sent Zana into the back of the wagon to get him Betsy, and had given her the reins when she returned. Now he was riding shotgun, in the literal sense of the word, and wished the damn fog would lift so he'd see who he was gonna shoot. Scores of ape children had been crowding their wagon for a while, begging or trying to climb into the wagon. Burke had fired one shot into the air, and they had scuttled away. "What?" Burke said when Zana glared at him. "Those little monkeys would've cleared out our stuff faster than you could've said 'Merciful Mothers'!"

"I don't know if this is the right quarter to look for an inn, if you need to wave your gun around," Zana murmured. Burke could tell that she was nervous. Well, until now the apes had managed to find lodgings in the civilized parts of whichever town they were forced to stop; and considering her upbringing, it was unlikely that she had ever set foot into the shady parts of the City... or any other town.

"But I'm smiling while I wave it," he said, and flashed her a grin. "Face it, Zana, with our last pathetic chips we can't buy ourselves a nice one this time. But no worries." He patted Betsy. "I know my way around in this kind of neighbourhood. Lived in one like this long enough." Granted, it hadn't been quite as run-down as this one...

For some reason, Zana didn't look reassured.

They continued down some more crooked and fog-filled alleys, Zana straining her eyes for an inn sign, Burke straining his to catch anyone creeping up on them to rob them again. This time, there would be no negotiations. He didn't have Al's talent for it, anyway.

"Well, what do you say?" Zana said finally and pointed ahead. "Should we try this one?"

Burke squinted at the dripping sign that sported something that looked like an ape with horns. He could swear the thing was leering at him. "What's it say underneath?" He had never bothered to learn the apes' script.

Zana craned her neck. "The Tipsy Goat," she read, and cleared her throat. "I mean... I know it's not the most respectable inn in town... it can't be, in this neighbourhood..."

Burke couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, don't be too surprised if they have some, uh, dancers working there, too. But hey, the ladies are usually real nice if you don't look down your nose at 'em. You need to go in and ask for rooms," he added, when Zana made no sign to move from her seat. "I gotta keep watch here, or we won't have a wagon to come back to."

Zana stared straight ahead for another moment; then she drew a sharp breath, gathered her robe, and carefully climbed down from the wagon. "Come looking for me if I haven't returned at the count of one hundred," she said dryly, and strode towards the inn. Burke watched her push open the door with a bit more force than necessary, before he returned his attention back to the street.

She came back at the count of seventy-eight, her face a mixture of consternation and the kind of hysterical amusement that was the last resort of people who couldn't afford to rage and scream.

"We have rooms," she said. "That is, we have one room - I'm afraid you'll have to share with me and Galen, and Alan, of course..."

"I don't mind sharing a room with you, or Al," Burke said. "Listen, I'll find a stable in a part of this town that will leave the wagon in one piece overnight... and the horses, too. I'll be back in no time. Just get your and Galen's things, I'll get ours." A stable wouldn't be as expensive as a tavern, and if he'd been alone, he'd just have slept in the horses' box, but of course Galen wouldn't allow that for himself and Zana.

She didn't look very happy at that, but then nobody had been really happy since they had been relieved of all their money. His money. Damn. Burke hesitated for a moment, then pushed Betsy into her hands. "I know you don't like to wave a gun around," he joked, "but as long as the gents here think you're a trigger-happy baboon, they'll give you a wide berth."

Zana looked even less happy at that suggestion, but she took the gun. Burke watched her vanish into the inn, then went to find a nice, cozy stable for Tala and Apache.

The fog had gotten even thicker when he returned to the Tipsy Goat - a perfect cover for anyone trying to get a jump on him, so he was walking more slowly now, all senses strained for traitorous sounds, or sudden movements, or the tingling sensation in his neck that announced the presence of someone out to get him. Burke felt that with his ANSA knife, he had a reasonable chance to shank any monkey trying to jump him, but he preferred not to make waves in this town. In and out, quickly and quietly, that was how they should operate here. Of course, now he only had to convince Galen that Etissa was not the kind of town where you wanted to stay for weeks to hire out your humans...

A muffled scream and jerking shadows in the fog before him alerted him to a fight right in front of the Tipsy Goat. Burke bit back an annoyed groan. Of course some drunkards had to block the door to his...

Another cry, and Burke started; that was Zana's voice!

What the hell is she doing outside?

He crossed the distance with what felt like a single jump, and rammed the knife into the back of the attacker who had taken Zana into a chokehold. The ape crumpled to the ground without a sound; Burke hoped that apes had their kidneys in the same place as humans. Then he stepped between Zana and the rest of the monkeys. Two others, chimps, shifting on their feet like bushcats preparing to jump. Apes did have the talent for 3D fighting; good thing he had flown some space combat simulations in his time, in preparation for potential encounters with Chinese vessels trying to stake claims on Moon or Mars...

But those two thugs lacked the imagination for jumping up to the gutter of the Tipsy Goat and then attacking from above; they were tackling him head-on, and Burke ducked and sidestepped the first one, burying his knife in the ape's chest, but missing the liver; the second one had rounded in on him in the meantime, grabbing for his wrist and trying to wrest the knife from his hand. Burke stabbed the fingers of his left hand into his eyes and kicked the inside of his knee joint, but the satisfying crack didn't come; ape skeletons were a lot sturdier than humans'.

Burke fell back two or three steps to regroup; he was dimly aware of a crowd gathering around them, watching the fight, and suddenly remembered what it meant for a human to attack an ape - no matter the reason.

The apes pounced, sensing his sudden hesitation, and then there was no time to worry about ape laws anymore. He couldn't hope to wrestle with an ape, or take a blow; no human was a match against simian strength. His only chance was to be faster than the apes, fast as a viper, and just as deadly.

When he returned to normal consciousness again, he realized that he was staring at three dead apes at his feet.

And that the sound of the crowd around him was that of cheering. Burke blinked and looked up. The onlookers were already dispersing; here and there, white squares changed hands. Zana was standing next to the door of the Tipsy Goat, one hand pressed to her heart, and staring at him with wide eyes.

When she saw that he was looking at her, she hurried over to him. "Peet! Merciful Mothers, are you hurt?"

"Don't think so," Burke said slowly, then grabbed her arm. "Zana, what the hell were you doin' outside? You know this place ain't safe!"

"I, I'm sorry," Zana stuttered. "I wanted to make some tea, and I discovered that I had forgotten to take the box with tea leaves with me, and when I went down to the, the... bar, they said they don't sell tea here, but there is a little shop down the street..."

"Jesus!" Screw those apes and their damn tea addiction! Burke turned Zana around and led her back to the inn. "Write me a list, an' I'll go and get everything you forgot, but for the love of your Mothers, stay inside unless either I, or Al, or Betsy is with you, okay?"

"Galen can fight with a knife, too," Zana said, a bit indignant, as they entered their room. This inn obviously didn't cater to humans - or apes with human servants - as it didn't even have proper stairs; instead, they had to climb up a pole with handles sticking out from it. Burke had seen that construction only once, in the house of an ape guard. At least he didn't have to haul up Zana's trunk this time.

"My point is," he said, "these monkeys are only waiting to rob a rich lady, an' make no mistake, Zana, compared to them, you are a rich lady. They'll tear you apart like a pack of hyenas."

Zana wandered over to where she had spread out her bedroll - Burke glanced at the heap of old blankets on a rickety bed frame that looked as if they hadn't been changed for the last five guests, and silently agreed with her decision - and slumped down on it.

"I hate it here," she said morosely. "It's loud, and dirty, and cold - Galen had promised me a warm, dry room..."

Burke sat down beside her and put a consoling arm around her shoulders. "It'll get better," he said, "trust me. Al an' I will earn some money, an' we'll be out of this stinkin' hole in no time."

Zana smiled and patted his hand. "And I'll have one more story to tell to... other people's grandchildren."

Burke didn't know what to say. The way that sentence had come out, she hadn't intended to aim a blow at him - she had just remembered that she'd never have grandchildren of her own when it had already been halfway out of her mouth. So he just squeezed her shoulder a bit.

They sat there, listening to the noise filtering up from below - the shouts and laughter, and the occasional crashing and thumping - while the light slowly faded from the room.

When Galen finally turned up, Zana was more than grateful for the dim lighting. The longer she had stared at the shabby walls, the more embarrassed she had felt for choosing this hole as their domicile. It was true that with the few sembles they had left, they could count themselves lucky that they didn't have to sleep in the streets. Yet seeing Galen standing in the middle of the room now, hands propped on his hips, and surveying the dirty floors and even dirtier bedsheets, she couldn't help but apologize.

Galen waved her apology away. "You found the best option available, under the circumstances," he said. "But I have good news - I was able to hire out Alan..."

"Thought so when he didn't come back with you," Peet muttered beside her. Galen ignored him.

"... and I was paid in advance." He rubbed his hands. "Which means we'll pack up here and find ourselves better lodgings. You'll get that nice, dry bed, and the armchair beside the fire, just as I promised you!"

"Paid in advance, huh?" Peet said as he rolled up her blankets, while she was putting on her damp robe again. "What kind of job did you find that pays in advance?"

"Party decoration," Galen said breezily. "A rich trader needed exotic looking humans to spice up the winter balls he's throwing for his wife and daughters - and his business partners and their wives and daughters - and humans with that eye and hair color..."

"... are rare flowers, I know," Peet interrupted him. "Aren't you afraid that he'll get so enamoured with our blond beauty that he'll refuse to give him back?"

Galen frowned. "No..."

"Do you have a written contract?" Peet pressed on.

"A word still counts among businessmen," Galen said indignantly. "Even in these backwards parts. Maybe it counts even more here, than back in the City."

Peet just exchanged a dark look with her; Zana couldn't help but shudder when she remembered the mugging she had barely escaped, thanks to him. Well, maybe things would be better now, in a better part of this town.

The inn Galen had chosen for them was nice - a sturdy little house with just four rooms on the upper floor, two of them already rented out. Galen, feeling generous - or frisky, Zana thought with a slight frown - had rented the other two rooms, so that the humans had a room for themselves, and he and Zana would have some privacy.

"And I found a nice little tavern down the street," he added while he set a kettle with water on the stovetop. Zana had insisted on tea - she felt as if she was as cold and clammy on the inside of her skin as on the outside. "We could have dinner there. It's really nice, the guest room is decorated with lots of vines, and even living trees. The host said he designed it with a jungle theme in mind..."

His voice trailed off; apparently he had become aware that he had been babbling. Zana pulled her damp, clingy robe over her head with a groan, secretly glad that it gave her another moment to consider Galen's idea.

If she was honest with herself, she didn't really feel like going out. She was cold and still somewhat damp, and as soon as she'd sit down and have that promised cup of tea, she'd feel dead tired.

"Alright," she said with a sigh. They did need to eat something, and having something other than dried meat and dried fruits would be nice...

"I'm just dead tired, dear," she said when she turned around and saw the expression on his face. "It's a lovely idea, but please don't hold it against me when I call it an early night."

"No, no of course not," Galen said quickly. "It was a really eventful day. You drink that tea... oh." He peered inside the box. "You're lucky, Zana - it's just about enough for one more pot. You've been drinking a lot of it lately."

It was true, Zana admitted to herself while she watched Galen pour the last tea leaves into the teapot. With the constant rains, the air had cooled off considerably, and they were traveling in higher altitudes now, too - a cup of hot tea had been in her hands all the time for some weeks now, filling her with at least a little warmth.

"I'll send Peet to the market to buy some tea for breakfast tomorrow," Galen said, "and something to eat for himself, and then we're good to go."

"Isn't it a bit late in the day for that? He can as well buy the tea by tomorrow morning," Zana called after him, but he had already vanished into the corridor.

The thought of Peet wandering through the darkening alleys of this town all by himself haunted her all the way to the tavern, and didn't leave her even when the waiter had already brought their wine.

"If anyone can safely walk these streets after dark, it's Peet," Galen said consolingly. "He has his knife and besides, the market isn't very far away, just farther down this street. He should already be back in his room by now."

Zana smiled, and told herself that they were out of the bad part of this town, after all, and that Galen deserved to have her full attention, and took a deep draw from her wine.

"This is nice," she said, when she had put down her glass again, and let her gaze wander over the multitude of plants that had been stacked against the walls so that they completely covered them. As Galen had promised, several big, potted plants gave the illusion of jungle undergrowth, and two massive tree trunks had been installed near the center of the guest room, reaching from floor to ceiling. Living vines were creeping up on them, and were then spread along the ceiling - maybe along thin ropes. Somewhere in the distance, water was gurgling.

"It just lacks some exotic birds and butterflies to make the illusion complete," Galen nodded. "But I suppose they didn't want to risk bird droppings on the tables."

"Or on the plates," Zana added, and Galen laughed.

"No, I think that would be bad for business," he admitted. He propped his elbows on the table and folded his hands. "I'm glad that you agreed to have dinner with me. I know you were pretty tired."

"Well," Zana said, and pushed the wine glass away, so that she could lean on the table herself, "I thought I shouldn't shoot down your first attempt at courting me after we left the City."

Galen winced a bit at that. "I'm sorry. But with Urko always on our tail, and then Peet's imprisonment, and Alan being shot, and, and... we've been stumbling from one crisis into the next, ever since we left there..."

"I know." She reached for the wineglass again, to give her hands something to do. "But there must be more than fear of death to keep us together, Galen. More than Urko."

"I know."

Silence descended between them, and to her horror, Zana found that she couldn't think of anything to say to fill it. Whatever topic crossed her mind - whether Peet had returned to their inn by now, how Alan was faring at his new workplace, Nelva... had he already reached Sapan? Had he recognized them on one of the champions' photos? Had he alerted Urko? Where was Urko now? - she discarded as yet another example of their overwhelming preoccupation with survival. Of course they had to care about their survival, but right now, she desperately wanted to talk about something else. Anything else.

"So," she said brightly. "What did you like better? Studying medicine, or the law?"

Galen blinked, but recovered quickly. "Oh, ah, the law. Working as a lawyer is a lot less stressful than working as a doctor. No emergency calls, for one thing. And if you can secure a nice administrative position in one of the surrounding prefectures, you also don't have to sacrifice nights for pouring over scrolls in a last desperate attempt to salvage a lost cause."

He took a sip from his wine. "Of course, that's how I look at it with hindsight. Back then, I found it boring, but it didn't require much effort, so I had more time to brood about my failed relationship with Kira."

"What an irony that your best cover has been doctor Kova," Zana remarked.

Galen laughed, sounding a bit strained. "I'm afraid he'll stay with me for the rest of my hopefully long and uneventful life. I had planned to open a veterinary practice, once we find a place where we can settle down for good."

"If that will ever be an option," Zana murmured.

Galen leaned across the table to clasp her hand. "It is, Zana. I promise, we won't be on the run forever. We're already out of the City's jurisdiction here, and once the mountains are between us and them..."

"I don't think Urko cares much about such inconsequential constructions as 'jurisdiction'," Zana pointed out. "He's obsessed with us, especially with the humans."

Galen squeezed her hand. "Urko has more important things on his plate than hunting two stray humans and their misguided simian helpers," he said with a wry smile. "Alan and Peet are more like a hobby for him. I doubt he wastes a single thought on us, as long as we don't cross his line of sight."

"I hope you're right," Zana said with a little sigh. "I'd really like to have a normal life again."

The waiter arrived with their plates, and for a while, Zana focused on her steamed vegetables and the tender meat of the pigeon she had ordered. When she looked up from time to time, Galen was chewing thoughtfully, a distant look in his eyes. She fleetingly wondered what he was thinking about.

"Well, what plans do you have for that normal life of yours?" he asked when she had cleared her plate. "I mean," he added hastily, "not that you'll have to work - I'm sure I'll earn enough for all of us - but I imagined you'd like to work again. You were very happy in your old workplace, at least that was my impression back then..."

For a moment, Zana was annoyed. So she could work, if she wanted to. Like a hobby, to pass her time. How generous!

Then she realized that Galen was worried that she could've misunderstood his first question - as if he had implied that having plans for her own life meant that they'd go their separate ways. Something that he very obviously didn't want to happen.

"Yes, I was very happy at the institute," she said. "But I doubt that they'll have need of a behavioral analyst out here, much less for one who studies humans. They're still regarded as nothing but working animals here."

"True," Galen admitted, and refilled their glasses. "But you're a smart and talented woman, Zana. I'm sure you can find something else for work."

Rogan had asked her - half in jest - if she didn't want to join the watch. Zana had refused, not just because that would've made her, however distantly, a subordinate of the Chief General of the simian police force. She could appreciate the irony, but only in theory.

And working as a reporter, like Felga had done? Ugar had told her she did have what it took to be one - but the weeks of investigating Felga's murder case had convinced Zana that in the long run, she wasn't cut out for digging through other people's private lives. It was exhausting; and in the end, she had drawn all the wrong conclusions from the clues she had uncovered.

If she was completely honest with herself, she had fantasized about raising her child ever since she had realized that she was pregnant. She had harboured no illusions about being able to work in her old profession, as she had just told Galen, and being a mother… teaching this one, precious child, had seemed so fulfilling. All those days of laughter and learning…

She swallowed a mouthful of wine, trying to wash away the bitter taste on her tongue.

"I'd love to run a shelter, like Felga did," she said finally. "But that won't pay money, and even if you'll earn enough for the two of us, that's not what I... I'd still like to earn money with what I'm doing, too."

"You'll think of something," Galen said. "And there's still plenty of time. We still have to cross the higher passes."

"We can't stay here for long," Zana said, feeling the old unrest shiver in her bones again. "The weather is already awful, but it'll get even worse, and once the landslides start, all passes will be closed. How long have you hired out Alan?"

"Just for five days," Galen said. He leaned over the table and let his voice drop to a whisper. "But Ramor paid me a thousand sembles per day, in advance! It's not enough to buy a house yet, but it's an excellent start. Tomorrow, I'll go buy those guns and ammunition, like Peet had suggested, and then nobody will take that money away from us again."

Zana frowned. Five thousand sembles, just for playing 'party decoration', as Galen had called it? Either Ramor was so stinking rich that he considered that sum small nuts, or...

... or what? She couldn't put her finger on what sounded wrong about that deal, but she fervently wished for the five days to be already over, and all of them being together again.

And then they would leave this town as quickly as possible.