Lawler put his thumbs to his temples and held them there, and pressed hard.
“Whywould Nid want to sail us into the Empty Sea, for Christ’s sake?”
“I thought you might want to ask him just that very thing.”
“Me?”
“Sometimes he seems almost to have a little respect for you,” Felk said. “He might actually give you an honest answer. Then again he might not. But he sure as hell isn’t going to tell me anything, is he? Is he now, doc?”
Kinverson was busy arranging his hooks and tackle, getting ready for the day’s fishing, when Lawler found him, a little while later that morning. He looked up grudgingly, regarding Lawler with the sort of absolute indifference that Lawler might have expected from an island, a hatchet, a Gillie. Then he went back to doing what he had been doing.
“So we’re off course. I knew that. What’s it to me, doc?”
“You knew?”
“These don’t look like northern waters to me.”
“You knew all along that we were heading into the Empty Sea? And you didn’t say anything about it to anybody?”
“I know we’re off course, but I don’t necessarily know we’re heading into the Empty.”
“Felk says we are. He showed it to me on his chart.”
“Felk isn’t always right, doc.”
“Let’s say that this time he is.”
“Well, then we’re heading into the Empty,” said Kinverson calmly. “So?”
“Instead of heading toward Grayvard.”
“So?” Kinverson said again. He picked up a hook, pondered it, clamped it between his teeth and twisted it into a different shape.
This was getting nowhere. “Don’t you give the slightest damn that we’re going the wrong way?”
“No. Why the hell should I? One stinking island’s just like the next one. I don’t care where we wind up living.”
“There aren’t any islands in the Empty Sea, Gabe.”
“Then we’ll live on the ship. What of it? I can live okay in the Empty Sea. It isn’t empty of fishes, doc, is it? It’s not supposed to have much, but it’s got to have some, if there’s water in it. If a place has fishes, I can live there. I could have lived in my old little boat, if I had to.”
“Why weren’t you living in it all along, then?” Lawler asked, starting to get annoyed.
“Because I happened to be living on Sorve. But I could live in my boat just as easily. You think those islands are so fucking wonderful, doc? You walk around on hard wooden boards all the time and you live on seaweed and fish and it’s too hot when the sun shines and too cold when it’s raining, and that’s life. At least that’s our kind of life. It isn’t much. So it’s all the same to me, whether it’s Sorve or Salimil or a cabin on the Queen of Hydros or a fucking rowboat. I just want to be able to eat when I’m hungry and get laid when I’m horny and stay alive till I die, okay?”
It was probably the longest speech Kinverson had ever made in his life. He seemed surprised himself that he had said so much. When he was done with it he stared at Lawler coldly for a moment in evident anger and irritation. Then once again he went back to his hooks and tackle.
Lawler said, “You don’t mind that our great leader is leading us right into completely unknown territory and that he can’t take the trouble to let us in on whatever it is he’s up to?”
“No. I don’t mind. I don’t mind anything, except people who bother me too much. I take one day at a time. Let me alone, doc. I’ve got work to do, okay?”
Dag Tharp said, “You want to make your calls now, doc? You’re an hour early, aren’t you?”
“I could be. Does it matter?”
“Whatever you like.” Tharp’s hands moved over his dials and knobs. “You want to call early, we’ll call early. Don’t blame me if nobody’s ready for you out there.”
“Get me Bamber Cadrell first.”
“You usually call the Star first.”
“I know that. Call Cadrell first today.”
Tharp looked up, perplexed. “You got an eel up your ass this morning, doc?”
“When you hear what I have to say to Cadrell, you’ll find out what I’ve got up my ass. Call him, will you?”
“Okay. Okay.” From the bank of radio equipment came sputters and clicks. “This fucking fog,” Tharp muttered. “A wonder the equipment doesn’t rot. Come in, Goddess. Come in, Goddess. Queen calling. Goddess? Goddess, come in.”
“Queen, this is Goddess.” A boy’s voice, high-pitched, squeaky. Nicko Thalheim’s boy Bard was the radio operator aboard the Sorve Goddess.
“Tell him I want to talk to Cadrell,” Lawler said.
Tharp spoke into the microphone. Lawler wasn’t able to hear the tinny response clearly.
“What was that?”
“He says Bamber’s at the helm. His watch has another two hours to run.”
“Tell him to get Bamber down from the wheel and on the horn right away. This needs to be dealt with.”
More sputters, more clicks. The boy seemed to be objecting. Tharp repeated Lawler’s request, and there was a minute or so of silence at the other end.
Then came the voice of Bamber Cadrelclass="underline" “What is it that’s so goddamned urgent, doc?”
“Send the boy away and I’ll tell you.”
“He’s my radio operator.”
“Fine. But I don’t want him to hear what I’m about to say.
“There’s a problem, huh?”
“Is he still there?”
“I sent him outside. What’s going on, doc?”
“We’re ninety degrees off course, in equatorial waters, heading south-southwest. Delagard is steering us into the Empty Sea.” Dag Tharp, listening at Lawler’s side, caught his breath sharply in amazement. “Are you aware of that, Bamber?”
There was another long silence from the Sorve Goddess.
“Of course I am, doc. What the hell kind of seaman do think I am?”
“The Empty Sea, Bamber.”
“Right. I heard you.”
“We’re supposed to be going to Grayvard.”
“I know that, doc.”
“It’s perfectly okay with you that we’re sailing the wrong way?”
“I assume Delagard knows what he’s doing.”
“You assume? ”
“These are his ships. I just work for him. When we started to veer south I figured there must be some trouble up north, a storm, maybe, something bad that he wants to get around. He’s got all the good charts, doc. We’re simply following the lead he sets.”
“Straight into the Empty Sea?”
“Delagard isn’t crazy,” Cadrell said. “We’ll turn north again before long. I don’t have any doubt of that.”
“You haven’t wanted to ask him why the change of course?”
“I told you. I assume it’s for a good reason. I assume he knows what he’s doing.”
“You assume a fucking lot,” Lawler said.
Tharp looked up from the radio desk. His eyes, usually hooded in wrinkled folds of flesh, were bright and big with astonishment.
“The Empty Sea?”
“Looks that way.”
“But that’s insane!”
“Isn’t it, though. Just pretend you haven’t heard a thing, for a little while, all right, Dag? Get me Martin Yanez, now.”
“Not Stayvol? You always make Stayvol your first call.”
“Yanez,” Lawler said, and fought back the memory of Josc smiling eagerly up at him.