“Meanwhile, They’ll be looking for me elsewhere – I hope. The fact that They didn’t find me here makes me think that They have no means for instantly locating a person. They may have branded us like cattle” – he indicated the invisible symbols on his forehead – “but even cattle have mavericks. And we’re cattle with brains.” He turned to the others. “You’re more than welcome to come along with me. In fact, I’d be honored.”
“I’ll get Monat,” Kazz said. “He wouldn’t want to be left behind.”
Burton grimaced and said, “Good old Monat! I hate to do this to him, but there’s no helping it. He can’t come along. He’s too distinguishable. Their agents would have no trouble at all in locating anybody who looked like him. I’m sorry, but he can’t”
Tears stood in Kazz’s eyes, then ran down his bulging cheekbones. In a choked voice, he said, “Burton-naq, I can’t go either. I look too different, too.”
Burton felt tears wet his own eyes. He said, “We’ll take that chance. After all, there must be plenty of your type around. We’ve seen at least thirty or more during our travels.”
“No females so far, Burton-naq,” Kazz said mournfully. Then he smiled. “Maybe we find one when we go along The River.” As quickly, he lost his grin. “No, damn it, I don’t go! I can’t hurt Monat too much. Him and me, others think we ugly and spry looking. So we become good friends. He’s not my naq, but he’s next to it I stay.” He stepped up to Burton, hugged him in a grip that forced Burton’s breath out in a great whoosh, released him, shook hands with the others, making them wince, then turned and shuffled off.
Ruach, holding his paralyzed hand, said. “You’re off on a fool’s errand, Burton. Do you realize that you could sail on this River for a thousand years and still be a million miles or more from the end? I’m staying. My people need me. Besides, Spruce made it clear that we should be striving for a spiritual perfection, not fighting Those who gave us a chance to do so.” Burton’s teeth flashed whitely in his dark face. He swung his grail as if it were a weapon.
“I didn’t ask to be put here any more than I asked to be born on Earth, I don’t intend to kowtow to another’s dictates I mean to find The River’s end. And if I don’t, I will at least have had fun and learned much on the way!” By then, people were beginning to stumble out of their huts as they yawned and rubbed heavy eyes. Ruach paid no attention to them; he watched the craft as it set sail close-hauled to the wind, cutting across and up The River. Burton was handling the rudder; he turned once and waved the grail so that the sun bounced off it in many shining spears.
Ruach thought that Burton was really happy that he had been forced to make this decision. Now he could evade the deadly responsibilities that would come with governing this little state and could do what he wanted. He could set out on the greatest of all his adventures.
“I suppose it’s for the best,” Ruach muttered to himself. “A man may find salvation on the road, if he wants to, just as well as he may at home. It’s up to him. Meanwhile, I, like Voltaire’s character – what was his name? Earthly things are beginning to slip away from me – will cultivate my own little garden.” He paused to look somewhat longingly after Burton.
“Who knows? He may some day run into Voltaire.” He sighed, then smiled.
“On the other hand, Voltaire may some day drop in on me!”
19
“I hate you, Hermann Goring!” The voice sprang out and then flashed away as if it were a gear tooth meshed with the cog of another man’s dream and rotated into and then out of his dream.
Riding the crest of the hypnotic state, Richard Francis Burton knew he was dreaming. But he was helpless to do anything about it.
The first dream returned.
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