leg and part of the next tack. He just watched Helga a little wistfully. I began to think that this sailing thing—provided first that you were feeling well enough to enjoy it at all—was much more fun for the person actually doing the sailing than for the passengers. Helga and Ralph, at least, both seemed to be having much more fun when they were sailing than when they were sitting up front. Perhaps it was just that they felt they had to talk to me, and that was an effort for them.
Ralph said, “Uh, well, how do you think our fathers are getting along?”
I swallowed, trying to keep control of my stomach. I said, “I don’t know. I don’t even know what they were going to trade for.”
He looked at me in surprise. “You don’t even know that? We operate placer mines just to produce tungsten ore for you, we ship it all the way here, and you don’t even know it!”
“Why don’t . . .” I paused and grabbed hard onto the side of the boat (gunwale) and fought hard to hold onto my composure as we dipped into a sudden trough. “Why don’t you mine this stuff, whatever it is, just for yourselves?”
Somewhat bitterly he said, “We don’t know how to reduce it. You Ship people won’t tell us how. When we trade with you, all you give us is little bits and pieces of information.”
We were heeling over into our last tack then, about to head down the last stretch to the dock.
I said, “And why not? We preserved all the knowledge through the years since Earth was destroyed. If we gave it all to you, what would we have left to trade with?”
“My dad says you’re parasites,” he said. “You live off our hard work. You’re Grabbies, and that’s no mistake.”
“We are not parasites,” I said.
“If things were the way they ought to be, we’d be the ones living like kings, not you.”
“If we live like kings, why were you saying earlier that we had to live all crowded together in barracks?”
He was nonplussed for a moment and then he said, “Because you like to live like pigs, that’s why. I can’t help it if you like to live like pigs.”
“If there are any pigs around here, it’s you Mudeaters,” I said.
“What?”
“Mudeaters!”
“Grabbie! Why don’t you take a bath?” He put his hand against my chest and gave a hard shove. In spite of our quarreling, he caught me unprepared, and I went tumbling overboard.
“The feel of the water was shocking. It was colder than the air, though after the first moment not unpleasantly cold. I got a mouthful of water as I went under and it was very bad tasting, dirty and bitter. I came up, coughing and spluttering, as the boat swung on past me. I got a glimpse of Helga with her head turned back toward me and a surprised look on her face. I treaded water while I coughed out the water that had gone down my windpipe, and some that had gone down the wrong way came up the wrong way and out my nose. It took several seconds before I was breathing properly. The shock and choking did settle my stomach, I found to my surprise, but it wasn’t the way I’d have chosen to do it if I had had a choice.
Helga had spilled the air out of the canvas and turned the tiller. The Guacamole was just rocking on the water and drifting. She stood up, looking back at me.
“Do you need help?” she called.
We weren’t really far from the dock, so I called, “No, I can swim in.”
I had light clothing on. My wet, loose sleeves were a little of a problem, but I found I could manage. I’d never swum in anything but a pool before, but I found it wasn’t really a problem to stay on top of the waves, though I had to be careful that I didn’t swallow any more of that bitter water. I wasn’t a fast swimmer, but I was built enough like a cork that all I had to do was keep at it and I had no trouble going where I wanted to.
As it was, we were close enough to the dock when I went overboard that I was able to reach a ladder by the time they had the Guacamole all tied up. I pulled myself up and then found that I was very tired, collapsed in a heap