My watch would be over at the second Ahn.
The deck seemed muchly deserted. There would be the helmsman, and a bound slave, the stem-castle watch, and the deck watch, which was by two men, whose names I would soon discover.
There was another spattering of hail.
I heard a creaking, a straining, of the ratlines, to my right.
I doubted it was my relief. It was not yet the first Ahn.
I was unarmed.
“Who is there?” I called.
“Your relief,” I heard.
“Aeacus?” I called.
“No,” said the voice, “Leros.”
The voice was then closer.
Aeacus, of course, was not my anticipated relief. That had been a test on my part. I then realized that whoever was approaching had access, or his informant had access, to the watch order.
“Good,” I said.
But the voice was not that of Leros.
“The sign, the word,” I said, “friend Leros.”
“That is not necessary,” said the voice.
“It is required,” I said. “The tarn is angry.”
“The sleen is pleased,” said the voice, nearer now, in the darkness.
So, I thought, he who approached, or his informant, had not only access to the watch order, but to signs and countersigns, as well. Such are changed daily, sometimes more often. It might seem that such things, on the ship, in its isolation, would be pointless, but it was deemed not so. Since the mutiny the high military authorities on board, Lords Okimoto and Nishida, of the Pani, of whom I took Lord Okimoto to have priority, had increased security considerably. Passwords, and such, of course, are familiar in martial environments, at any time, but particularly at night in the field, in darkness, and so on. They can be used at gates, fords, bridges, and such. Where large numbers of men are involved they are particularly important, as one is not likely to know everyone. Access to storerooms and weapons rooms is often by sign and countersign. Even one well known, even a friend, after all, may not have authorization to enter or pass. It is not unknown for such signals to be used even in single holdings, if large enough; indeed, such holdings are sometimes labyrinthine. We used them, for example, in the Central Cylinder, in Ar, during the occupation.
I sensed a hand might have reached up, to the platform.
“May I ascend?” asked the voice.
It was not the voice of Leros.
“Certainly,” I said.
There is a moment when one climbs to the platform, if it is occupied, in which one is quite vulnerable.
As the voice had spoken clearly, there was no knife clenched between the teeth. The weapon then would have to be retrieved before it could be used, say, from a neck cord, a shoulder sheath, or such.
I could understand trepidation on the part of the climber, but only if he were uncertain of me, or thought me uncertain of him. Leros would never have asked such a question. It would not have occurred to him to do so. The mistake was tiny, but it was enough to assure his death.
By the time the stranger had got his feet under him and was able to stand, the knife would be in his hand.