"Oh. Lovely. Lovely. A stone fortune. Stone fortune. That fat little ape don't deserve it. All the time sucking up to Besand. That creep."

"Fat little ape? You asked for it." Bomanz shed his pack and tools, got a firm grip on his spade.

Men fu came up out of the pit, his arms filled. His eyes grew huge. His mouth worked soundlessly.

Bomanz wound up. "Now Bo, don't be…"

Bomanz swung. Men fu danced, took the blow on his hip, squawked, dropped his burden, flailed the air, and toppled into the pit. He scrambled out the far side, squealing like a wounded hog. Bomanz wobbled after him, landed a mighty stroke across his behind. Men fu ran. Bomanz charged after him, spade high, yelling, "Stand still, you thieving son-of-a-bitch! Take it like a man."

He took a last mighty swing. It missed. It flung him around. He fell, bounced back up, continued the chase sans avenging spade.

Stancil threw himself into Men fu's way. The thief put his head down and bulled through. Bomanz ploughed into Stancil. Father and son rolled in a tangle of limbs.

Bomanz gasped, "What the hell? He's gone now." He sprawled on his back, panted. Stancil started laughing. "What's so damned funny?"

"The look on his face."

Bomanz sniggered. "You weren't much help." They guffawed. Finally, Bomanz gasped, "I'd better find my spade."

Stancil helped his father stand. "Pop, I wish you could have seen yourself."

"Glad I didn't. Lucky I didn't have a stroke." He lapsed into a fit of giggles.

"You all right, Pop?"

"Sure. Just can't laugh and catch my breath at the same time. Oh. Oh, my. I won't be able to move again if I sit down."

"Let's go dig. That'll keep you loose. You dropped the spade around here, didn't you?"

"There it is."

The giggles haunted Bomanz all morning. He would recall Men fu's flailing retreat and his self-control would go.

"Pop?" Stancil was working the far side of the pit. "Look here. This may be why he didn't notice you coming."

Bomanz limped over, watched Stancil brush loose soil off a perfectly preserved breastplate. It was as black and shiny as rubbed ebony. An ornate ornament in silver bossed its center. "Uhm." Bomanz popped out of the pit. "Nobody around. That half-man, half-beast design. That's Shapeshifter."

"He led the TelleKurre."

"He wouldn't be buried here, though."

"It's his armor, Pop."

"I can see that, dammit." He popped up like a curious groundhog. No one in sight. "Sit up here and keep watch. I'll dig it out."

"You sit, Pop."

"You were up all night."

"I'm a lot younger than you are."

"I'm feeling just fine, thank you."

"What color is the sky, Pop?"

"Blue. What kind of question…"

"Hallelujah. We agree on something. You're the most contrary old goat…"

"Stancil!"

"Sorry, Pop. We'll take turns. Flip a coin to see who goes first."

Bomanz lost. He settled down with his pack as a backrest. "Going to have to spread the dig out. Going straight down like this, it'll cave in first heavy rain."