Unless . . .
It would be terrible if they failed to return. A real tragedy. No doubt there would be much high-throated keening among Jemunu-jah’s clan and corresponding nauseating trunk blowing by Masurathoo’s relations if both of them vanished in the Viisiiviisii. That would be too, too bad. He would be forced to deal with the glory and prospects raised by the discovery of the pannula all by himself. Could one person handle so much fame and wealth?
Though it might take some effort, he was convinced that he could.
There was a problem, however. Though simple, unsophisticated folk who had little contact with civilization, the local villagers had seen him arrive in the company of two ostensibly healthy, alert companions. He doubted they would care one way or another if the Deyzara in their midst happened to vanish one day, but Jemunu-jah presented a much bigger problem. While he was not of their village or a related clan, they knew him now as a respected and highly educated member of an important and influential northern group. His sudden disappearance, coupled with that of Masurathoo, would arouse more than suspicion. They might not take any action themselves, but there was the danger that they might pass their qualms on to the rescue team. Such accusations could place him in a position sufficiently awkward that even he might not be able to find a way to wriggle free.
He cursed himself for lack of forethought. The time to have carried out such intentions would have been days earlier, when the three of them were still alone in the depths of the Viisiiviisii. But then, the members of the hunting party that had found them might not have been as inclined to assist him as they had been eager to help a fellow Sakuntala like Jemunu-jah.