After a while, Kimon and the others went inside the launch. Nevertheless, their voices came out loudly through the open ports.
The titanthrop had not gone aboard. He stood in one spot, softly talking to himself. His eyes were red, and he looked as if he’d grieved much.
Burton introduced himself.
Joe Miller, speaking in a deep kettledrum voice in English said, “Yeth, I’ve heard about you, Mithter Burton. Tham told me about you. Vhen did you get here?”
Reluctantly, Burton said, “I was on the Rex.”
“Vhat the hell vere you doing on that? You vere vone of the Ekth’th men, veren’t you?”
“Yes,” Burton said. “But I didn’t know until yesterday that some of his recruits were on the Not For Hire. Though, to tell the truth, I suspected that some would be.”
“Who told you?”
“Cyrano de Bergerac.”
Joe brightened. “Thyrano? He’th alive? I thought he died! Vhere ith he?”
“No, he was killed. But he recognized me, and he told me that Clemens and he had also been visited by the Ethical.”
Burton thought it would be better not to tell Miller that it was his woman who’d slain de Bergerac.
The titanthrop looked as if he were struggling with himself. Then he stopped shaking, and he smiled slightly. His giant hand shot out.
“Here. Thyake. I don’t hold it againtht you. Ve vath all thtupid. Ath Tham uthed to thay, it’th the fortuneth of var.”
Burton’s hand was enfolded, squeezed, not too hard, and then released. Burton said, “I don’t think we should talk here. Too many people around. You come with me, and I’ll introduce you to two who also know about the Ethical.”
They went to the foothill behind the temple. Here Alice and others were building huts. Burton called her, Frigate, Nur, and Aphra Behn to one side. After introducing Miller, Burton asked him to tell everything relevant he knew about X and those who’d been recruited by him. It was a long tale, interrupted by many questions, and it was not finished until long after supper. Since the huts were not completed, the five slept on the portico of the temple under piles of cloths. After breakfast, they returned to their building. By late afternoon they had two huts finished. Miller went down to the launch for a while to check on what was going on. When he returned, Burton told his story. That had to be stopped W the funeral of the casualties whose bodies had not sunk. These, which had been preserved in alcohol until the ceremony, were laid out on wooden biers. Miller wept over Sam Clemens and his cabinmate, a huge redheaded ancient Cimmerian woman. After Burton, representing the Rex, and Kimon, representing the Not For Hire, had spoken a few words about their dead comrades, La Viro gave a short but passionate speech about the uselessness of their deaths. Then the bodies were put on a huge pyre and burned to ashes.
Not until the rains came at about six in the morning were the tales of Burton and his people finished.
“I vathn’t going on up,” Miller told them. “Veil, actually, I vath going up a little vay. Vhen I found thome of my own people, I vath going to thettle down vith them. Maybe. I’m not tho thyure I’d be happy vith them now. I’ve theen too much, traveled too much, become too thivilithed to be happy vith them, maybe.
“Anyvay, I’d given up going on to the tower. It didn’t theem vorthvhile. But now I’ve met you, maybe I will go on. If I didn’t, it vould make Tham’th death, the thufferingth and the deathth of all thothe people, in vain.
“Bethideth, I vant to find out who Ekth ith. If he’th been tricking uth, me and Tham veren’t too thyure he vathn’t, I’ll tear him apart, thkin by thkin.”
“Skin by skin?” Burton said. “What does that mean?”
“It’th chutht a thayirig of my people. Do I have to ekthplain it?”
“How many of your crew also know about X?” Burton said.
“There’th the little Frenchman, Marthelin, altho known as Baron de Marbot. But Tham told him about Ekth. Tham thought he could trutht him. Then there’th that vildaththed Chinethe Tai-Peng, only hith real name ith Li Po. There’th hith black-aththed thidekick, Tom Turpin, he can really tickle the ivorieth. Ekth never recruited Tom, but Tai-Peng blabbed about it to Tom one night vhen he vath drunk, that Thelethtial thyould’ve died of thirrhothith of the liver yearth ago, tho ve thought ve’d better take him in. He’th a good man, any vay. And then there’th Ely Parker, who vathn’t recruited by Ekth either, but Tham knew him on Earth, or of him, and he told him becauthe he vath a good friend of Ulyththeth Eth. Grant and altho a general on Grant’th thtaff during the Thivil Var. He vath an engineer on the Not For Hire. He’th an American Indian, an Iroquois of the Theneca tribe. And then there’th the ancient Thumerian who callth himthelf Gilgameth.”
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