He knew Kellie would stay put until her passengers were safely clear. The east was beginning to brighten. Jack turned and waved him forward. He was really enjoying his role as leader and lightbender expert. The lander lifted, the treads retracted, and it rose silently into the sky.

Thirty minutes later they were out by the side of the road. Jack told him it was time to “go under,” which, it turned out, was the standard phrase for switching on the lightbender. It had a disparate ring for Digger.

He touched his belt, felt a mild tingle as the field formed around him, held out his arm, and watched it vanish. When he looked up, Jack was also gone. He activated his goggles and his partner reappeared as a luminous silhouette.

They turned south. Toward Athens.

THERE WERE ALREADY travelers abroad. Two Goompahs appeared riding fat horses. They were gray, well muscled, with snouts, and ugly as bulldogs. “Everything in this world,” said Digger, “seems uglier than at home.”

“Cultural bias?”

“No, they’re ugly.”

One of the Goompahs carried a lantern. They were engaged in a spirited conversation, which included growls and thwacking their palms together and jabbing fingers at the sky. They passed Jack and drew alongside Digger and suddenly grew quiet. To Digger’s horror, the closer of the two had raised his lantern and was looking in his direction. Staring at him.

The animals sniffed the morning breeze, but they wouldn’t be able to detect any unusual scents because the e-suits locked everything in. Still, it was a trifle unsettling, especially when one of the beasts turned its head and also looked at Digger.

“Your eyes, Dig,” said Jack. “Close your eyes.”

He put his hand in front of them and began backing away. The riders exchanged remarks, and Digger was sorry he didn’t have a recorder running because he could guess the meaning. Harry, did you see that? You mean that pair of little blue eyes over there?

Harry rode to where he’d been standing and looked in all directions. They exchanged a few more comments and the one without the lantern detached a switch from his saddle. Just in case something had to be beaten off.

Digger had to restrain a laugh at the weapon. But he actually did hear a word repeated by the second rider: Telio. The name of his companion?

Digger was tempted. Challa, Telio. But he could guess how the pair of them would react to a voice coming out of the air. He compromised by trying to memorize the features of the one who might be Telio. It was difficult because they all looked alike. But he marked down the creature’s nervous smile, a battered left ear, and the shape of nose and jaws. Maybe we’ll have a more opportune moment.

OVER THE NEXT hour, they encountered several groups and a few lone pedestrians. There were both males and females on the road, and Digger noted that one of the females was alone on foot. The area was apparently safe.

They began to see scattered dwellings. The forest gradually died away and was replaced by farms and open fields. They stopped to watch a female working just outside a small building on a mechanical device that might have been a spinning wheel. An animal, a two-legged creature that looked like a goose with an extraordinarily long bill and protruding ears, waddled out the door, looked in their direction, got its neck stroked, and nibbled at something on the ground.

Digger backed off a few steps. “You sure we’re invisible to the animals?” he asked.

The creature’s ears came up.

“Yes. But it’s not deaf. Stay still.”

He’d learned to squint, thereby reducing the amount of exposed iris.

They passed a building that might have been a school. Inside, young ones scribbled on stiff gray sheets.

The room was decorated with drawings of trees and animals. Thick sheets, covered with characters they could not read, were posted around the walls. He could imagine the messages. Square Roots Are Fun and Wash Your Hands after Going to the Bathroom.

THERE WAS NEVER a moment when you could say that you were entering the city. The fields contracted into parks, buildings became more frequent, and traffic picked up.

They were approaching a stream. It ran crosswise to the road, which narrowed and became a bridge. Jack examined the construction and took some pictures. Planks, crosspieces, bolts, beams, and a handrail. It looked sturdy. A wagon rumbled across, coming out of the city, and the bridge barely trembled.

A lone female was approaching. Jack and Dig always stopped when traffic of any kind was in the vicinity and they did so now. But she looked in their direction, and her lips formed an ’o’ the way humans do when they’re puzzled. She was looking curiously down at Jack’s legs.

And Digger saw that he’d pushed against a melon bush. The melons were bright yellow and big as balloons and maybe a trifle ripe. The problem was that Jack had backed against them and lifted one so that it seemed to be defying gravity.

“Watch the melon,” he told Jack, who eased away from it.

The melon slowly descended, the branch picked up its weight, and the plant sagged.

“Doesn’t look as if this being invisible,” said Digger, “is all it’s cracked up to be.”

The female wore wide blue leggings, a green pullover blouse, and a round hat with a feather jutting off to one side. She looked dumbfounded.

Something moved behind him. Wings flapped, and Digger turned to see a turkey-sized bird charging out of a purple bush. It raced clumsily across the ground, stumbled once or twice, and launched itself into the air.

The female watched it go and moved her lips. It wasn’t quite a smile but Jack knew it had to be. Smiles seemed to be universal among intelligent creatures. Noks did it. The Angels on Paradise did it. He’d heard somewhere that even whales did it.

She advanced on the melon, studied it, touched it, lifted it. After a moment she let it swing back down. Jaw muscles twitched. Then she casually turned and continued on her way.

“Better be more careful,” said Digger.

“How bad was it?” asked Jack.

“It was afloat.”

Ahead, the road passed through farmland, rolling fields filled with crops, plants and trees in long rows, green stalks and something that looked like bamboo. Other fields lay fallow. Occasional buildings with a slapdash appearance were scattered across the landscape. Some were barns. Others were the huge, sprawling structures in which large numbers of Goompahs lived. They appeared sometimes singly, sometimes in clusters of three and four.

It was clear that they were home to communal groups, although what divided them from other groups or bound the individuals together remained a mystery. As they continued on, this type of structure became more frequent, but occupied smaller segments of land. And there were individual homes as well. Parks began to appear. The road became busy, and eventually expanded into a thoroughfare. Shops lined both sides.

Some public buildings possessed a level of elegance almost rivaling that of the temple. But most were of a more pedestrian nature, austere and practical. All were filled with the creatures, who leaned out windows and exchanged comments with the crowds outside. Young ones played in doorways, others frolicked on rooftops. Everybody seemed to be having a good time.

“Partyville,” said Jack.

Most of the shops were flimsy structures, plaster or wood with awnings hung over them. A few were brick. The shelves were well-stocked with fabrics, fish, wine, clothing, jewelry, cushions, animal skins, and every other conceivable kind of product.

“They have money,” whispered Jack. “Coins. A medium of exchange.”

It was a chaotic scene. Merchants hawked products, customers pushed and shoved to get close to the counters. A quarrel broke out in front of what appeared to be a weapons shop. Everywhere Goompahs haggled over prices and commodities.

The coins Jack had seen were spread across the counter of a fabric shop. Hadn’t been picked up yet by a careless proprietor. Behind him were displayed woven spreads and shirts and trousers and even a few decorative wall hangings.

It occurred to Digger that a coin would make a dazzling souvenir.

He hesitated. Everybody was so tightly packed together. But therein lay safety, right? In this crowd, who’d notice getting bumped by an invisible man?

“Jack,” he said. “Wait here.”

“Wait, Dig. Where are you going?”

“I’ll be right back.”

The battle at the weapons shop had not gotten past a lot of screaming and yelling. But it had cleared an area for him to pass through. The weapons shop had bows, arrows, knives, and javelins on display. They looked mostly ornamental, something gawdy to hang on the wall and maybe claim you’d taken from a fallen enemy.

His path to the coins took him directly past the squabbling Goompahs, who were hurling threats and making gestures at each other. Digger got jostled by one of the combatants, who turned in surprise and looked for the offender. “Kay-lo,” he growled, or something very much like it.

The largest of the coins was about the size of a silver ten-dollar piece. It looked like bronze. A plant or tree was engraved on it, and a series of characters around the edge. In God We Trust. It was roughly made, the product of a primitive die, but it would be a priceless artifact to take home.

“Don’t do it, Digger.” Jack’s voice was stern.

“It won’t hurt anything.”

“No.”

“It’ll help the translators.”

Silence. Jack was thinking it over.

Digger would have liked to leave something in exchange, another coin, preferably, but he had nothing like that available. He’d think of something later. Come back tomorrow. Behind him, the combatants were drifting apart, issuing a few final threats before calling the whole thing off.

He scooped up the ten-dollar piece and turned quickly away.

The shopkeeper screeched. The sound stopped Digger cold because he thought he’d been too quick to be observed, thought the shopkeeper had been distracted by the dispute.

But he was staring directly at Digger. And beginning to babble. Others turned his way and moaned.

“Digger,” said Jack. “Your hand.”

To the Goompahs the coin must have been afloat in the air. Part of it, the part covered by his hand, would have been missing altogether. He tried to adjust his grip, but it was too big. He was about to slip it into his vest when a large green paw tried to close over it. The thing held on and he couldn’t let go. One of the creatures growled, and another barged into him. Somehow one got hold of his belt. They went down struggling and suddenly the one with his belt let go, drew back with a terrified expression, and howled. The coin got knocked away.