End, not so. The great ship is the folly of a madman, lame, half-blind Tersites. He dares dispute the will of Thassa, known for a thousand years, that none may venture beyond the farther islands. Those who have done so have never returned. The ship is great, but Thassa is greater. And she is not patient. She scorns Tersites, his vanity and presumption. She mocks the architecture of his delusions. She scorns the very wood with which he has framed his dreams. She will dismantle his vaunted, arrogant, floating city timber by timber.”
“The cargo has been loaded,” said Tyrtaios. “The certification has been delivered.”
“You now wish pay?” asked the first beast.
“Others know of the cargo,” said Tyrtaios. “If I do not return, it will be removed from the ship, and burned.”
“You have made such an arrangement?” asked the first beast.
“Of course,” said Tyrtaios.
“And you have men personally loyal to you, who will see to this?”
“Yes,” said Tyrtaios.
“I wonder if that is true,” came from the device.
“You cannot risk that it is not,” said Tyrtaios.
“Your precaution is well understood, but unnecessary,” said the beast. “You stand high in our esteem, and trust.”
Tyrtaios inclined his head, slightly.
The first beast made a sign to the second, who withdrew a small, but weighty sack from a leather container which lay near the fire.
He cast it to the feet of Tyrtaios, who did not move.
“It is tarn disks, gold, of double weight,” came from the device.
“We must return to Shipcamp, before we are missed,” said Tyrtaios. “I wish you well.” He turned, as though to leave.
“Stop, wait,” came from the device.
Tyrtaios turned about.
“You have passed the test well,” came from the device.
The second beast then, though I think the gesture pleased him not, bent down, and, not taking his eyes from Tyrtaios, picked up the small sack. The skin on the back of my neck seemed to rise, as I saw that small sack almost disappear in the latitudinal grasp of those long, encircling, multiply jointed six digits. It was then handed to Tyrtaios, with an understated politeness that I found disconcerting. I was confident that we might not have left that small clearing alive, were it not that we were seemingly required as elements, essential elements, in some business which eluded my comprehension.
“It is a great pleasure to do business with one so astute,” said the first beast.
“I wish you well,” said Tyrtaios. He slipped the small sack inside his tunic. I was surprised he did not place it in the wallet slung at his waist. Mostly, I wished to leave this place, to make away as soon as possible.
“Wait,” said the first beast.
Tyrtaios turned back.
“Have you not forgotten something?” came from the device.
“Lord?” asked Tyrtaios.
“It is worth nothing to you,” said the beast.
“What?” asked Tyrtaios.
“Were you not entrusted with a vessel, a small vessel, constituting a celebratory draft, a gift, a reward and pledge, placing a seal on our business?”
“Ah!” said Tyrtaios.
“Did you forget?” came from the device.
“Yes,” said Tyrtaios.
“Of course,” said the beast.
“Forgive me,” said Tyrtaios.
“It is from a Home World,” said the beast. “It is rare here. Perhaps you hoped to sell it. But, greedy friend, it is worthless to you.”
“There is very little in the vessel,” said Tyrtaios.
“Did you sample it?”
“No,” said Tyrtaios.
“I doubt that it would be to your taste,” said the beast.
“The seal is unbroken,” said Tyrtaios.
“Give it to me,” said the first beast.
“To me!” said the second beast.
“My superior entrusted it to me, and, I gather, his superior to him,” said Tyrtaios.
“For us!” said the second beast.
“For the three of you, surely,” said Tyrtaios. But the third beast was not present. It had apparently gone to watch the trail.
“We two,” said the first beast. It then shut off the device, abruptly.
The two beasts then, crouched down, regarded one another, I thought balefully.
Tyrtaios reached into his wallet, and drew forth a small bottle. I feared the two beasts were to pounce upon him, given the regard in which they seemed to hold the small vessel, but they stopped suddenly, angrily, apprehensively, for, having broken the seal and removed the bottle’s stopper, Tyrtaios held it, as though to spill its contents on the ground. The two backed away, a pace, eyeing one another.
Tyrtaios pointed to the first beast, that which had managed the communication device, and held the bottle toward it. We took him, I gathered, to be first amongst the three beasts. The second growled, menacingly. Tyrtaios did not relinquish his grip on the bottle, even when the