Chack’s mind reeled and he looked around in shock. “But surely, lord,” he stammered, “it cannot all be iron?”
Adar blinked sharp displeasure at Chack’s outburst. “It’s iron. All of it. It must be, for the red streaks are everywhere. Now speak no more unless you are given leave.” He sniffed. “They will think us rude.”
Keje muttered something that Chack didn’t catch and joined the Amer-i-caans waiting above.
Gray was scandalized by the Lemurians’ preoccupation with the rust. He took it as a personal affront that they should be so obvious about noticing the lack of maintenance. Shinya had spent more time among them, and he thought he understood. He spoke aside to Matt.
“Captain Reddy, they’ve just realized your ship is made of steel.”
“I think you’re right. Must be a shock too. They have iron weapons, so they know what it is, but the idea of making something this size…” He paused. “They had to know Walker was metal, ever since they set foot on her. I wonder what they thought it was?”
“Copper, most likely, Skipper,” said Gray, simmering down. “Who knows? I sure as hell don’t know how they made something the size of their ship out of wood!”
“Point.” The captain stepped into the wheelhouse and beckoned their guests to follow. Once inside, with the self-conscious bridge watch going about their duties, Keje looked through the windows, at the wheel, at all the strange and mysterious devices and the maze of conduits overhead. His eyes swept everything, recognizing the utility, if not the function, of what was clearly the control area for the American ship. He was puzzled that the utilitarianism was so extreme as to preclude decoration of any kind, but everything seemed laid out with profound practicality. To his seaman’s eye there was an aesthetic quality in that.
His gaze fell upon the chart table, and with quickening heart and mounting incredulity he recognized immediately what he saw. Adar saw it at the same instant and was staggered by the implications. With a cry, he rushed to the table and leaned protectively over the chart, his eyes sweeping back and forth, taking in the strangers’ reactions. They showed no concern except perhaps for his inexplicable behavior. He tried to grasp the chart, but something was there-something clear-between his claws and the paper he sought. What is this magic? he thought desperately. Why would they do this? Do they mock us with their power that even the Sacred Scrolls themselves are nothing but curiosities for all to gape upon without the training to understand? He looked at Keje’s stricken blinking, and the Amer-i-caans behind him, staring. They seemed bewildered. Adar sensed no hint of gloating or malice, only curiosity and concern. Even after his sudden outburst, none seized a weapon. Perhaps there was no mockery here. Perhaps there was something else? Perhaps they understood. Could it be?
Keje edged closer and peered at the chart Adar hovered over. “Their Scrolls are better than your Scrolls, Adar,” he said dryly. “Really, you must control yourself. We are their guests. They will think us rude,” he quoted.
“You go too far, Keje-Fris-Ar!” Adar retorted sharply. He glanced at the chart again. The detail was amazing! “The value is in the thing, not what is on it! You flirt with apostasy!”
“Wrong. I’m no Sky Priest, but wisdom is wisdom, regardless of the source. Is it apostasy to recognize the value of this Scroll, as they obviously do, and put it in an honored place where all may gain its wisdom? Or is it apostasy to suspect, like you do, that they might be as those Tail-less Ones of old who passed us this wisdom before?”
Matt and the others had gathered round and were watching the exchange. Clearly, the Malay Barrier chart had created a crisis of some sort, but they were at a loss to understand what it was. The ’cats plainly knew what the chart represented, but why should Adar throw such a fit?
“But to have them here, where all can see…” sputtered Adar. “It’s not right!”
“Where is it written only the Priests of the Sky may know the mysteries of the Heavens?” Keje softly asked. “Among our people, only Sky Priests can interpret the drawings in the Scrolls because they alone have the Ancient Tongue, but anyone may strive to become a Sky Priest, not so? I’ve looked upon the Scrolls myself-you showed them to me! I can even read some of what is written. Does that make me a Sky Priest-or an apostate?”
Adar was quiet for a moment while he thought. Of course Keje was right; it just didn’t seem right. He sighed.
“I apologize, my lord. It’s just…” He’d been gazing at the chart while he spoke, his eyes taking in the shapes of the islands he knew so well, when he felt he’d been physically struck. “The words!” he managed to gasp. “The words are not in the Ancient Tongue!”
Keje saw it was true. Some of the island names were the same, but there was much more writing than he remembered and it was totally unfamiliar. “Their own language?” he speculated. Adar could only nod. It must be. The Amer-i-caans still watched them, and he suspected they were becoming impatient. He would have been. “Ask them where they come from. Maybe they will even tell us.”
Adar cleared his throat and spoke the ancient words. As soon as Shinya translated, Captain Reddy peered at the chart himself. Adar knew their home couldn’t be anywhere on the scroll he saw. The Scrolls of the People were more comprehensive. Less than a third of the known world was laid out before him, and he had at least passing acquaintance with all the places shown. The meaning of his question was clear, however, because Matt put his finger on what Adar recognized as their current position and then paced away, far across the wheelhouse, to stand on the opposite side. He pointed at the deck, looking intently at Adar with his small green eyes.
“They are from the East! Beyond the world, beyond even the Great Empty Water, perhaps! The way no vessel can go!”
“In case you haven’t noticed, Brother,” Keje said with heavy sarcasm, “this vessel goes wherever it wants!”
The humans were intrigued but not overly concerned by Adar’s behavior. They assumed that he’d recognized the chart, and an example of commonality had been found.
“Ask them where they’re from,” Matt instructed. There was muttered conversation in their own language, and finally Adar pointed over the water at their ship. Matt nodded. “Of course, we suspected as much. It certainly seems self-sufficient enough for long stretches away from land. But your people must have some place, on land, where such things are built?” He spoke directly to them, even though Lieutenant Shinya was obliged to translate everything he said. “Wood only grows on land and other things-copper, cordage, things like that-can only be found ashore. Your people must have settlements where you can make repairs?” All four Lemurians looked at him for a long time after Shinya finished speaking. They seemed hesitant to answer.
Matt understood that they might not want just anyone to know where their settlements were, but he and his crew had saved them from the Grik. If they wished them ill, that was not the simplest way to show it. This logic was apparently not lost on the Lemurians, because finally Keje leaned back over the chart. Adar said something, but the Lemurian leader shook his head and placed one of his clawed fingers on the map.
“Jesus Christ!” blurted Gray. “Borneo!”
Several crewmen on the bridge muttered in surprise. Matt looked over the shorter Lemurian, where his claw touched the chart. “Well,” he said, “I believe we’ve been there once before.” He straightened and looked meaningfully at the Bosun. “Balikpapan.”
He turned back to Keje. “You have damage,” he said, and then gestured around him. “We have damage too, and need supplies. Besides, the Grik may return. We’ll help you get there, if you have no objection.”
Matt led the Lemurians on a quick tour of the rest of the ship. The only attractions he avoided were the engines and the main armaments. They passed the guns and torpedo tubes several times and, plainly, the Lemurians were interested, but despite Bradford’s advice, Matt thought they shouldn’t focus too intently on the fact that Walker was a warship. And besides, what they didn’t know about her capabilities, they couldn’t tell to others. The same was true regarding the engines. It seemed to him that the Lemurians were sophisticated enough not to attribute everything they didn’t understand to magic. But it wouldn’t hurt to let some things remain mysterious. Particularly when that mystery protected the only two advantages Walker had in this strange, screwed-up world: her speed and her weapons.
Inevitably, not all the Lemurians were content to let Walker’s secrets unfold with time and trust.
Jarrik-Fas insisted that they ask the Amer-i-caans about their amazing weapons that could destroy the Grik from afar with such speed and efficiency. Keje was reluctant, since he could tell their hosts were less than willing to discuss it now. Ever since he’d seen the chart, however, Adar had assumed Keje’s pragmatic skepticism. The reverse was true for Keje. That the Amer-i-caans had Scrolls of their own meant they almost certainly had some understanding of the Heavens. To him, that was reassuring. As different as they were, it was a sign that they were
