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and pirates must salvage them as fast as they’re made.”

      “Your pardon, Mother, for interrupting,” said Grizquetr. “I heard a sailor, Zoob, remark on that very thing just the other day. He said that he once saw a ‘roller that had been gutted, by pirates, he supposed. It was three days’ journey out of Yeshkayavach, the city of quartz in the far North. He said their ‘roller was a week there, then returned on the same route. But when they came to where the wreck had been it was gone, every bit of it. Even the bones of the dead sailors were missing.”

      “And he said that that reminded him of a story his father had told him when he was young. He said his father told him that his ship had once almost run into a huge uncharted hole in the plain. It was big, at least two hundred feet across, and earth had been piled up outside, like the crater of a volcano. At first that was what they thought it was, a volcano just beginning, even though they’d never heard of such a thing on the Xurdimur. Then they met a ship whose men had seen the hole made. It was caused, they said by a mighty falling star....”

      “A meteor,” commented Green.

      “... and it had dug that great hole. Well, that was as good an explanation as any. But the amazing thing was that when they came by that very spot a month later, the hole was gone. It was filled up and smoothed out, and grass was growing over it as if nothing had ever broken the skin of the earth. Now, how do you explain that, Foster-father?”

      “There are more things in heaven and earth than ever your philosophies dreamed of, Horatio,” Green nonchalantly replied, though he felt as though he wasn’t quoting exactly right.

      Amra and her son blinked. “Horatio?”

      “Never mind.”

      “This sailor said that it was probably the work of the gods, who labor secretly at night that the plain may stay flat and clean of obstacles so their true worshipers may sail upon it and profit thereby.”

      “Will the wonders of rationalization never cease?” said Green.

      He rose from his pile of furs. “Almost time for my watch.” He kissed Amra, the maid, the children, and stepped out from the tent. He walked rather carelessly across the deck absorbed in wondering what the effect would be upon Amra if he told her his true origin. Could she comprehend the concept of other worlds existing by the hundreds of thousands, yet so distant from each other that a man could walk steadily for a million years and still not get halfway from Earth to this planet of hers? Or would she react automatically, as most of her fellows would do, and think that he must surely be a demon in human disguise? It would be more natural for her to prefer the latter idea. If you looked at it objectively, it was more plausible, given her lack of scientific knowledge. Much more believable, too.

      Somebody bumped him. Jarred out of his reverie, he automatically apologized in English.

      “Don’t curse at me in your foreign tongue!” snarled Grazoot, the plump little harpist.

      Ezkr was standing behind Grazoot. He spoke out of the side of his mouth, urging the bard on. “He thinks he can walk all over you, Grazoot, because he insulted your harp once and you let him get away with it.”

      Grazoot puffed out his cheeks, reddened in the face and glared. “It is only because Miran has forbidden duels that I have not plunged my dagger into this son of an izzot!”

      Green looked from one to the other. Obviously this scene was prearranged with no good end for him in view.

      “Stand aside,” he said haughtily. “You are interfering with the discipline of the ‘roller. Miran will not like that.”

      “Indeed!” said Grazoot. “Do you think Miran cares at all about what happens to you? You’re a lousy sailor and it hurts me to have to call you brother. In fact, I spit every time I say it to you, brother!”

      Grazoot did just that. Green, who was downwind, felt the fine mist wet his legs. He began to get angry.

      “Out of my way or I’ll report you to the first mate,” he said firmly and walked by them. They gave way, but he had an uneasy feeling in the small of his back, as if a knife would plunge into it. Of course, they shouldn’t be so foolish, because they would be hamstrung and then dropped off the ‘roller for the crime of cowardice. But these people were so hot-headed they were just as likely as not to stab him in a moment of fury.

      Once on the rope ladder that ran up to the crow’s nest, he began to lose the prickly feeling in his back. At that moment Grazoot called out, “Oh, Green, I had a vision last night, a true vision, because my patron god sent it, and he himself appeared in it. He announced that he would snuff up his nostrils the welcome scent of your blood, spilled all over the deck from your fall!”

      Green paused with one foot on the rail. “You tell your god to stay away from me, or I’ll punch him in the nose!” he called back.

      There was a gasp from the many people who’d gathered around to listen. “Sacrilege!” yelled Grazoot. “Blasphemy!” He turned to those around him. “Did you hear that?”

      “Yes,” said Ezkr, stepping out from the crowd. “I heard him and I am shocked. Men have burned for less.”

      “Oh, my patron god, Tonuscala, punish this pride-swollen man! Make your dreams come true. Cast him headlong from the mast and dash him to the deck and break every bone in his body so that men may learn that one does not mock the true gods.”

      “Tahkhai,” murmured the crowd. “Amen.”

      Green smiled grimly. He had fallen into their trap and now must be on guard. Plainly, one or both of them would be aloft tonight during the dark hour after sunset, and they’d be content with nothing less than pitching him out over the deck. His death would be considered to have come from the hands of an outraged god. And if Amra should accuse Ezkr and Grazoot she’d get little justice. As for Miran, the fellow would probably heave a sigh of relief, because he’d be rid of a troublesome fellow who could carry damaging stories of a certain conspiracy to the Duke of Tropat.

      He climbed up to the crow’s nest, and settled gloomily to staring off at the horizon. Just before sunset Grizquetr came up with a bottle of wine and food in a covered basket.

      Between bites Green told the boy of his suspicions.

      “Mother has already guessed as much,” said the lad. “She is a very clever woman indeed, my mother. She has put a curse upon the two if you should come to harm.”

      “Very clever. That will do a great deal of good. Thank her for her splendid work while you’re picking up my pieces from the deck, will you?”

      “To be sure,” replied Grizquetr, trying hard to keep his sober face from breaking into a grin. “And Mother also sent you this.”

      He rolled the kerchief all the way off the top of the basket. Green’s eyes widened.

      15

      “A rocket flare!”

      “Yes. Mother says that you are to release it when you hear the bos’n’s whistle from the deck.”

      “Now, why in the world would I do that? Won’t I get into tremendous trouble by doing that? I’ll be run through the gauntlet a dozen times for that. No sir, not me. I’ve seen those poor fellows after the whips were through with them.”

      “Mother said for me to tell you that nobody will be able to prove who sent up the flare.”

      “Perhaps. It sounds reasonable. But why should I do it?”

      “It will light up the whole ship for a minute, and everybody will be able to see that Ezkr and Grazoot are in the rigging. The whole ship will be in an uproar. Of course, when it is discovered that somebody has stolen two flares from the store-room, and when a search is conducted, and one flare is found hidden in Ezkr’s trunk, then ... well, you see....”

      “Oh, beamish boy!” chortled

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