On Blue's waters

These people cheat one another at every opportunity-so it seems at times, at least. Under the Long Sun, they were ruled by force and the fear of force. Here on Blue there is no force and no fear sufficient to rule. There is nothing, really, except our book and me. In the Long Sun Whorl they believed that their rajan would take their lives for the least disobedience, and they were right. Here in their new town they must believe that every word and every action proceeds from my concern for them and for justice. And they must be right about that, too.

What will become of them when I leave? For a long time I was unable to think about it. Now that I have, the answer is obvious. Just as in New Viron, they will steal, cheat and tyrannize until one chief man rises above all the rest. Then he will not bully and cheat, but take whatever he wants and kill all who oppose him. He will be their new rajan, and their original city will have been transferred from the Whorl to this beautiful new whorl we call Blue, complete in every significant detail.

Meanwhile, here I am. They cannot help seeing that I am doing nothing that one of them could not do. Self-interest is necessary to every undertaking and to everyone-or that is how it seems to me, although I am quite sure Maytera Marble would argue passionately. They must be brought to understand that any action of theirs that makes their town worse is bound to be against their own interests.

It is better to have no cards in a town in which no one steals than to have a case of cards in a town full of thieves. I must remember that, and tell them so as soon as a suitable occasion arises. An honest person in an honest town can gain a case full of cards by honest means, and enjoy it when he has it. In a town of thieves, cards must be guarded night and day; and when the cards are gone, as they will be sooner or later, the thieves will remain.

Looking over what I wrote last night, I see I strayed from my topic, as I too often do. I meant to say (I believe) that the man who called me a minor god meant that I am always right, when he ought to have meant that I always try to do what is right. What else can the distinction between a minor god and a major devil be?

The lesser gods (as Maytera Mint taught us before Maytera Rose displaced her, and long before she became General Mint) were Pas’s friends. He invited them to board the Whorl with his family and himself. The devils came aboard by stealth and trickery, like Krait, who came aboard our sloop that night, proving yet again to me (if not to Seawrack) that quite often I do not know what I am talking about.

The near calm that had succeeded the storm had endured throughout the remainder of the day. What woke me, I think, was the rattle of Babbie’s feet on the planks, followed by a sudden still- ness. I sat up.

The sea was so calm that the sloop seemed as steady as a bed on shore. Seawrack was sleeping on her side, as she frequently did, her mouth slightly open. The mainsail, which I had double-reefed and left set, found no breath of air to flutter in; nor did the mainsail halyards tap the mast, or move at all. Beyond the shadow of the little foredeck, the sloop was bathed in the baleful light of Green, which made it seem almost an illusion, a ghost vessel that would, when day at last returned, sink into the air.

Aft, I saw a dark mass that seemed too large as well as too splayed for Babbie, rather as if someone had thrown a cloak or a blanket over him. I crawled out from under the foredeck, got to my feet, and drew Sinew’s hunting knife; and a cold, calm voice- the voice of a boy or young man-said, “You won’t need that.”

I went aft as far as the mast. To tell the truth, I was afraid that there might be more than one, and was as frightened as I have ever been in my life.

“Didn’t you hear me? I haven’t come for your blood.” The inhumu must have looked up as he spoke; I saw his eyes gleam in the ghastly green light.

Seawrack called, “What is it? Oh!”

“If you do not stay where you are,” the inhumu said, “I will kill your pet. I will have to, since I don’t intend to fight all three of you together.”

“That’s nothing to me,” I told him, lying consciously and de- liberately. “If you haven’t come for our blood, go away. I won’t try to stop you, and neither will she.” I had stowed my slug gun in one of the chests; it would not have been less available to me if it had been back on the Lizard.

“Where bound?”

I shook my head. “I won’t tell you.”

“I could find out.”

“Then you don’t have to learn it from me.”

“Tell me at once,” the inhumu demanded, “or I’ll kill your hus.”

“Go right ahead.” I took a step toward him. “You said you didn’t want to fight all three of us. The prospect of fighting you alone doesn’t bother me. If I have to fight you, I will. And I’ll kill you.”

His wings spread in less than a second and he rose like a kite, leaving poor Babbie huddled and trembling in front of the steers- man’s seat.