To Your Scattered Bodies Go

Thirty days later, Burton, Frigate, Ruach, and Kazz were returning from a trip UpRiver. It was just before dawn.

The cold heavy mists that piled up to six or seven feet above The River in the latter part of the night swirled around them. They could not see in any direction further than a strong man might make a standing broad jump. But Burton, standing in the prow of the bamboo hulled single-masted boat, knew they were close to the western shore. Near the relatively shallow depths the current ran more slowly, and they had just steered to port from the middle of The River.

If his calculations were correct, they should be close to the ruins of Goering’s hall. At any moment, he expected to see a strip of denser darkness appear out of the dark waters, the banks of that land he now called home. Home, for Burton, had always been a place from which to sally forth, a resting-place, a temporary fortress in which to write a book about his last expedition, a lair in which to heal fresh hurts, a conning tower from which he looked out for new lands to explore.

Thus, only two weeks after the death of Spruce, Burton had felt the need to get to some place other than the one in which he now was. He heard a rumor that copper had been discovered on the western shore about a hundred miles UpRiver. This was a length of shore of not more than twelve miles, inhabited by fifth century B.C. Sarmatians and thirteenth-century A.D. Frisians.

Burton did not really think the story was true — but it gave him an excuse to travel. Ignoring Alice’s pleas to take her with him, he had set off.

Now, a month later and after some adventures, not all unpleasant, they were almost home. The story had not been entirely unfounded. There was copper but only in minute amounts. So the four had gotten into their boat for the easy trip down current, their sail pushed by the never ceasing wind. They journeyed during the daytime and beached the boat during mealtimes wherever there were friendly people who did not mind strangers using their grailstones. At night they either slept among the friendlies or, if in hostile waters, sailed by in the darkness.

The last leg of their trip was made after the sun went down. Before getting home they had to pass a section of the valley where slave-hungry eighteenth-century Mohawks lived on one side and equally greedy Carthaginians of the third century B.C. on the other. Having slipped through under cover of the fog, they were almost home.

Abruptly, Burton said, "There’s the bank. Pete, lower the mast! Kazz, Lev, back oars! Jump to it!" A few minutes later, they had landed and had pulled the lightweight craft completely out of the water and upon the gently sloping shore. Now that they were out of the mists, they could see the sky paling above the eastern mountains.

Dead reckoning come alive!" Burton said. "We’re ten paces beyond the grailstone near the ruins!" He scanned the bamboo huts along the plain and the buildings evident in the long grasses and under the giant trees of the hills.

Not a single person was to be seen. The valley was asleep.

He said, "Don’t you think it’s strange that no one’s up yet? Or that we’ve not been challenged by the sentinels?" Frigate pointed toward the lookout tower to their right.

Burton swore and said "They’re asleep, by God, or deserted their post" but he knew as he spoke that this was no case of dereliction of duty. Though he had said nothing to the others about it, the moment he had stepped ashore, he had been sure something was very wrong. He began running across the plain toward the but in which he and Alice lived.

Alice was sleeping on the bamboo-and-grass bed on the right side of the building. Only her head was visible, for she was curled up under a blanket of towels fastened to each other by the magnetic clasps. Burton threw the blanket back, got down on his knees by the low bed, and raised her to a sitting position. Her head lolled forward, and her arms hung limply. But she had a healthy color and breathed normally.

Burton called her name three times. She slept on. He slapped both her cheeks sharply; red splotches sprang up on them. Her eyelids fluttered, then she went back to sleep.

By then Frigate and Ruach appeared. "We’ve looked into some of the other huts," Frigate said. "They’re all asleep. I tried to wake a couple of them, but they’re out for the count.

"What’s wrong?" Burton said, "Who do you think has the power or the need to do this?

"Spruce!"

"Spruce and his kind, Whoever They are!"

"Why?" Frigate sounded frightened.

"They were looking for me! They must have come in under the fog, somehow put this whole area to sleep!"

"A sleep-gas would do it easily enough," Ruach said. "Although people who have powers such as Theirs could have devices we’ve never dreamed of."

"They were looking for me!" Burton shouted.

"Which means, if true, that They may be back tonight," Frigate said. "But why would They be searching for you?"