It was a small rowboat, with thee occupants, though the two straining at the large oars bore a marked resemblance to a cloudy sky and could only made made out [sic] with difficulty.  At the bow, looking into the gloom, was a tiny creature easier to see.  A little owl-faced monkey, a Parmiter from the northwest, peered anxiously toward the dark shore.

"You sure we're far enough up from that compound and those villages so that nobody will see us?" a deep voice behind the Parmiter asked.

"I'm sure, Grune," the Parmiter replied in its squeaky tones.  "The natives around here are pretty scared of the dark, and they light torches and fires to ward it off.  As for the others, well, you saw the pictures.  We'd almost have to beach on them for them , to see us."

That seemed to satisfy Grune.  "Getting near the beach," it said.  "Hear the surf?"

"Let it carry us in now," cautioned the Parmiter, "but keep at the ready.  You too, Doc.  It won't do to crack up on the beach.  We have to get back out to the ship with her, you know."

Doc sighed.  "I just don't understand why we bother.  I mean, it'd be simple enough to kill her - and these primitive places are great pickings.  They grow tobacco here, you know.  Know what that's worth over near the Overdark?"

The Parmiter got upset.  "Keep your mind on the job, Doc!  For this job, they're paying fifty times what we've made in the last two years, but it's got to be a cinch!  None of that petty-robbery business with my double-jointed hips!  This is the big time!"

When they reached the beach, two large ill-defined shapes jumped into the water and grabbed the boat, pulling it onto the sand, to where the beach met the underbrush.  For a very short time the big creatures were fully visible - long lizards with sharp, horny shields around their heads and tough, leathery skins.  And then they started to fade again, automatically adjusting their skin coloration to the background.  They pulled a camouflage-mottled tarp over the small boat and left it at the edge of the beach.  In the dim light one would have to stumble over the thing to notice it, and they didn't intend to be there by morning.

Carefully, the threesome walked down the beach, the little Parmiter hopping atop Doc's head just in front of the horny guard plate.

The Parmiter reached into its marsupial pouch and brought out its gas gun, checking it for pressure and load.

"Everybody got their filters in?"