A few atseht later, Galen's firm condemnation of Heron's Wonder Cure was strategically distributed all across Chubla, and would hopefully educate its citizenship with the first morning light. Feeling in control of things for the first time since that cursed troupe had sunk its claws into town, Galen decided that he'd visit the Club tonight.

Zana had been pretty monosyllabic over dinner, which was slightly concerning, but she had excused herself with being exhausted by the hard work at the shelter — she was building a greenhouse, for Cesar's sake! — and had retired early, which usually meant that Galen would spend a quiet evening in his room translating the Book for Dolan; but he felt too antsy for that today.

Hamez had pleaded exhaustion as well when Galen had offered to introduce him in the Club; too bad, but after having forced him to pin up twelve posters and wander all over town for that, Galen felt that he had imposed too much on the young ape already, and didn't insist. There would be other opportunities for that.

The club was the usual jovial, self-indulgent pit, filled with clouds of pipe smoke, the sounds of clinking glasses and the constant deep murmur of chatting males. Galen accepted a tumbler of Chubla's finest cider, mostly to have something to hold on to, and made his round through the rooms in search of either a game of keppa , or an interesting conversation to join in, only stopping now and then to exchange a few words of friendly banter with one of the gents.

"I see they let you out of circus jail, Kova!"

It was Egvon — Doctor Egvon, please! — who had lobbed this not-so-friendly joke at Galen as he passed by his table. Galen hesitated for a tiny moment, then decided to take the jab with more grace than Egvon himself apparently had.

"Why, yes," he replied. "After I accidently let the fleas escape from their stables when I was supposed to muck them out, they decided I wasn't worth the trouble. Who knows what accident I could've caused while polishing the sword swallower's tools?"

As he had hoped, Egvon's company roared with laughter. Egvon forced his face into a wry smile that looked as if he had bitten on something nasty — probably on his next remark.

"They were probably more worried that you'd piss into their elixir," he sneered. The fella had no self-control. Or manners, for that matter.

"I prefer appealing to people's common sense, not to their taste buds," Galen said mildly, and turned to leave.

"I hope you won't cease in your heroic struggle against the evil circus apes," one of Egvon's companions snorted. "We haven't had that much entertainment in ages."

For the tiniest moment, Galen thought he could hear Zana's voice from somewhere, very faintly: just ignore him, dear. But he couldn't help himself. He turned around.

"Shame on you if you think farmers losing their livelihood to a fraud is a laughing matter," he said, careful to keep his voice as mellow as before. "I would've thought that compassion, at least, would be the fall-back for those of our craft who lack the aspiration to adhere to its professional standards. Whatever happened to 'do no harm'?"

The sneer drained from Egvon's face during his little speech; the ape rose from his seat, glaring at Galen. "Don't speak of our craft, as if sticking your arm up a cow's ass would make you a doctor!"

Zana's voice was shouting something, but Galen couldn't hear it anymore. "At least my arm isn't stuck in my own behind..."

With an inarticulate roar, Egvon hauled himself across the table towards him. Galen, startled, sidestepped the incoming ape without thinking; well, maybe he didn't get his foot out of the way quickly enough, making the good doctor trip over it and crash into the neighbouring table, whose company was mighty surprised about their sudden involvement in the spectacle. The clatter of toppling chairs and the shouting alerted people even from the other rooms: in an instant, Galen was surrounded by babbling, pointing apes.

Egvon came to his feet, shaking off helpful hands, and made a beeline for Galen, which caused the same hands to grab him again, this time to hold him in place. "This peasant attacked me," he roared. "Kick him out!"

All of a sudden, Galen found himself face to face with Zorlan, a wizened, saggy Orangutan who was the oldest board member of the club, and the inofficial patriarch of its members. "What is this ruckus?" he creaked. "Doctor Kova, if you destroy our furniture, you will have to pay for the damage!"

"I didn't destroy anything," Galen protested. "Doctor Egvon here seemed to be in a hurry, and I merely stepped out of his way. Unfortunately, he tripped and crashed into a chair."

"Of course, of course," Zorlan wheezed, clearly not believing a single word. "And you didn't help the good doctor to be on his way in an even greater hurry, of course."

"I did not," Galen said with utmost dignity. "In fact, I displayed admirable self-constraint considering the foul language my dear colleague threw at me just before he threw himself at me."

"We're not colleagues," Egvon shouted from behind Zorlan, but the old Orangutan honed in on something else.

"He threw himself at you? Didn't you just say he was in a hurry to leave? Which one should it be?"

"He was in a great hurry to add his fists to his words," Galen amended. "Which I sidestepped, because I don't stoop to the level of bar browling."

Zorlan raised his brows. "Did you just call my esteemed club a bar?"

Galen felt his fur bristle. "Of course I did not, as you very well know!"

Zorlan pointed a shaking finger at him. "You just admitted that you and Doctor Egvon were brawling! In my club! I cannot tolerate this behavior from any of our members! Doctor Kova, I will ask you to leave at once."

"What?" Galen sputtered. "I didn't admit to anything! I sought to avoid Doctor Egvon's unprovoked aggression towards me!"

"You so provoked him, though," someone from the crowd piped up. "I heard you say he had his head up his arse."

"His hand, not his head," Galen corrected him automatically. "And he—"

"I will not tolerate this language in my club, either," Zorlan declared. "Doctor Kova, I must ask you to leave, and to have the dignity to not necessitate me to ask for the help of our more robust members to show you the door."

Galen didn't believe his ears. "So you throw both of us out, even though I am the victim of his attack?" He pointed at Egvon.

"I'm asking you to leave," Zorlan clarified. "Doctor Egvon is a long-time member in good standing, who I know and trust, while you are, I am sorry to say, a rather unknown entity who is — was, I should say — still on probation. I deeply regret that you proved to be so hot-headed, but I'll put it down to your youth and your rather, ahem, difficult professional situation."

He patted Galen's arm consolingly. "I assure you that we will discuss your case in our monthly board meeting, young man. Until then, though, I'm afraid we cannot let you participate in the club's gatherings."

Galen shook off his hand. "I'm not at all sure I'll still be interested in a club that so blatantly plays favorites against all evidence," he heard himself say as if from far away.

And then he found himself out in the street, the cool evening breeze waking him from his stupor; he didn't remember leaving the club rooms. He still couldn't believe what just had happened. It had to be a joke, a bad dream.

He went home in a daze, the streets suddenly unfamiliar, the houses forbidding.

Galen rose at dawn — not that he had slept much during the night — his mind swirling with plans to spread his condemnation of the Wonder Cure even wider than planned; the announcement posts wouldn't be enough. He'd go door to door, if necessary, but first he'd see if he couldn't get the Herald to post it as an article: a much more elegant way to get his argument on every Chublan breakfast table.

As for his own breakfast, it consisted of tar-black tea and brooding, which he wasn't even aware of until Zana's question startled him out of it: "What's wrong, Kova dear? You haven't said a word since I came in."

He sighed and put his cup back on the table. "Ah, everything, everything." He quickly recounted the incident at the club. Zana was aghast.

"How could that old baboon do that?" she fumed. "He wasn't even trying to hide his favoritism! Does he have no shame?"

Galen shrugged. As the son of a council member, this behavior was nothing new to him. "Old connections take precedence, just like they'd do in the City. Just like everywhere, I'm afraid." He smiled at her; despite his forced nonchalance, her indignance on his behalf soothed his heart.

"It doesn't really matter," he assured her. "I have more important things on my mind anyway. Hamez and I hung up the first dozen pamphlets yesterday, and the printer has about fifty more ready today. I also thought of publishing the content in the paper—"

"Sorry for disturbing your meal, doctor, but there's a guard at the door and he wants to see you." Prila stood under the doorway, wringing a dish towel in her hands.

A thread of the old fear tingled down Galen's spine; he flicked a glance at Zana and saw the same alarm reflected in her eyes. "Thank you, Prila," he said, his voice calmer than his racing heart, and rose. "I'll see what he wants."

The young Chimp handed him an official-looking scroll after sternly asking his name, and left without so much as a nod of goodbye; Galen, too shaken to take offence, simply returned to the dining room with the unopened scroll.

Zana eyed it with a mixture of relief and wariness. "What is it?"

His heart was still beating painfully in his chest. Galen sat down heavily, and broke the seal with shaking hands. Voltis' seal, he noted absently.

It was an order to desist spreading malicious gossip about Heron's Medico-Spiritual Company and its products, in particular the Wonder Cure, and to remove all public defamations from the announcement posts. There was a lot of legalese outlining the reasoning and justification for the order, but Galen didn't bother skimming it; he merely tossed the scroll across the table to Zana, so she could read it for herself.

She took in the whole thing with a glance, then stared at him. "I don't believe it. The Chief claims he has no legal way of throwing these criminals out of town, but this he can do before breakfast?"

"Apparently so," Galen said tiredly. "I'm sure he didn't want to, though — Heron must know every legal loophole, considering his business model..."

"You have to go to Voltis and make him retract that order!"

"In case you hadn't noticed, I can't make our esteemed District Chief do anything he doesn't want to do." Galen rubbed his eyes. The lack of sleep was catching up with him — that, and a bone-deep weariness that had nothing to do with how many hours he had tossed and turned in his bed.

Zana threw the scroll down in disgust. "But then what do you want to do about this?"

Galen leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling for a moment. It was a very good question, he thought, even if it was just a cry of frustration from Zana. As far as he could see, he had already tried everything in his power. There was only one more thing he could do. He closed his eyes for a moment.

When he opened them again, Zana was still staring at him expectantly. "It's nothing I want to do, dear," he said softly, "but it seems to me that the only thing left is to admit defeat."

"What?"

He spread his arms. "The farmers and the townspeople alike don't want to hear my opinion about their magical elixir. The Chief refuses to remove Heron and his ilk from the district. The esteemed members of the Club threw me out, and Egvon thinks I'm not a real doctor anyway. I like it here, really I do, but I don't see a future for us in Chubla anymore." He let his hands fall at his sides. "We'll have to find a new place to live. The settlers in the Badlands will hopefully have less patience for crooks, seeing as they aren't leading such cushioned lives as our dear Chublans—"

"We can't leave!" Zana protested. "I have a project running at the shelter, I'm building a greenhouse—"

"That won't pay for our expenses, I'm afraid," Galen pointed out. "And Voltis will stop paying me very soon, since I have no patients to show for."

Zana looked miserable. "If you had asked me two weeks ago, I wouldn't have said it," she whispered, "but I don't want to leave."

Galen leaned across the table to put his hand over hers. "Believe me, I don't want to leave, either," he said. "I simply see no other choice, considering—"

"Leave? You're leaving?"

Both he and Zana turned to look at Hamez, who stood in the doorway with bleary eyes, barely suppressing a yawn. His glasses were dangling from his fingers.

"Yes, I'm afraid so," Galen said after a moment. "I just received a gag order from Chief Voltis — I'm not allowed to voice my opinion about the elixir in public anymore. I'll have to send you around town a second time to take down the posters we put up yesterday. I'm sorry for the inconvenience."

Hamez put on his spectacles. "So by leaving, you mean you're letting this madness run its course? Wait until people come back to, come back to their senses?"

"No, I mean leaving town and finding another place to settle down and reopen my practice," Galen clarified. "Of course I will write you an excellent letter of recommendation. You really did yourself proud in the short time you were my assistant."

"Oh." Hamez stared at him, suddenly wide awake.

"This isn't decided yet!" Zana rose, looking furious. "Don't think this is your decision alone, Kova! I have business here, too, and how are Alan and Peet going to find us when they come back?"

"If they come back, and they may not, if they find what they went looking for," Galen interjected, but Zana wouldn't have any of it.

"We're not leaving," she declared. "No circus clown runs me out of my town! We'll find a way to kick them out, we just have to give this some thought, and maybe we need some allies among those Chublan dignitaries! I can think of at least one, and I'm going to ask for her help, right now."

She stomped out of the room, only stopping once to poke a startled Hamez in the chest. "Contrary to my husband, I haven't been impressed with your performance until now. Here's your chance to surprise me yet!" She pointed at Galen. "Help him find a solution to this problem. Make yourself worth the money he's paying you!"

And with that, she swept out of the door.

Both apes stared at each other for a moment. Galen was the first to find his voice again. "Well," he said weakly, "you better not stand in her way when she's like that." He rose and laid a hand on Hamez' shoulder. "And if you don't mind my unsolicited advice... better do as she said." He patted the younger ape's shoulder. "I'm looking forward to your solution for our dilemma."