The Dark Design by Phillip Jose Farmer

It took a year to build another cutter. When it was half-finished, Burton decided not to name it after its predecessors, Hadji I and Hadji II. Both had come to bad ends, and, though he denied it, he was superstitious. After some talk with his crew, it was agreed that Snark was suitable. Alice liked the name because of her association with Lewis Carroll, and she agreed with Frigate that it was most appropriate.

Smiling, she recited part of the Bellman’s speech from The Hunting of the Snark.

“He had bought a large map representing the sea,

Without the least vestige of land: And the crew were much pleased when they

found it to be A map they could all understand.

” ‘What’s the good of Mercator’s North Poles and

Equators, Tropics, Zones, and Meridian Lines?’

So the Bellman would cry: and the crew would

reply “They are merely conventional signs!

” ‘Other maps are such shapes, with their islands

and capes!

But we’ve got our brave Captain to thank’ (So the crew would protest) ‘that he’s bought us A perfect and absolute blank!’ ”

Burton laughed, but he was not sure that Alice was not obliquely insulting his abilities as a captain. Lately, they had not been getting along so well.

“Let’s hope the voyage in the new boat won’t be another agony in eight fits!” Alice cried. .

“Well,” Burton said, grinning savagely at her, “this Bellman knows enough not to get the browsprit miffed up with the rudder sometimes!

“Nor,” he added, “is there a Rule 42 of the boat’s code. No one shall speak to the Man at the Helm.”

“Which,” Alice said, her smile gone, “was decreed by the Bellman himself. And the Man at the Helm shall speak to no one.” .

There was a short silence. All felt the tension between the two, and they looked uneasy, dreading another violent explosion of their captain’s temper.

Monat, eager to avoid this, laughed. He said, “I remember that poem. I was especially struck by ‘Fit the Sixth, The Barrister’s Dream.’ Let me see, ah, yes, the pig was on trial for having deserted its sty, and the Snark, dressed in gown, bands, and wig, was defending it.

“The indictment had never been dearly expressed,

And it seemed that the Snark had begun, And had spoken three hours, before any one

guessed What the pig was supposed to have done.”

He paused, rolled his eyes, and said, “I have it. That one quatrain which so impressed me.

“But their wild exultation was suddenly checked When the jailor informed them with tears,

Such a sentence would not have the slightest effect, As the pig had been dead for some years.”

They all laughed, and Monat said, “Somehow, that verse squeezes out the essence of Terrestrial justice, its letter if not its spirit.”

“I am amazed,” Burton said, “that in your short time on Earth you managed not only to read so much but to remember it so well.”

“The Hunting of the Snark was a poem. I believe that you can understand human beings better through poetry and fiction man through so-called fact-literature. That is why I took the trouble to memorize it.

“Anyway, an Earth friend gave it to me. He said that it was one of the greatest works of metaphysics that humanity could boast of. He asked me if Arcturans had anything to equal it.”

Alice said, “Surely he was pulling your leg?”

“I don’t think so.”

Burton shook his head. He had been a voracious reader, and he had an almost photographic memory. But he had been on Earth sixty-nine years, whereas Monat had lived there only from 2002 to 2008 a.d. Yet, during the years they had voyaged together, Monat had betrayed a knowledge that no human could have accumulated in a century.

The conversation ended since it was time to go back to work on the boat. Burton had not forgotten Alice’s seeming barb, however. He brought it up as they got ready to go to bed.

She looked at him with large, dark eyes, eyes that were already retreating into another world. She almost always withdrew when he attacked, and it was this that heated his anger from red to white-hot.