[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Galaxy Magazine April 1963.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
They would never live to see the trip's
end. So they made a few changes in their way
of life--and many in their way of death!
I
"I don't see why we have to be here," a crewman said. "He ain't liable
to say anything."
"He shore better," the man in front of him said loudly.
"Be still," his wife said. "People's lookin' at ya."
"I don't care a smidgen," he said, "if en they ayre."
"Please," she said.
"Joanne Marie," he said, "you know that when I aims ta do somethin',
I'm jest natcher'lly bound to do hit. An' iffen I aims ta talk...."
"Here comes the priest. Now, be still."
The man looked up. "So he do; an' I'll tell ya, hit shore is time he's
a-gittin' hyere. I ain't got no all night fer ta sit."
The crewman to his left bent over and whispered, "I'll bet he's gonna
tell us it's gonna be another postponement."
"Iffen he does, I'm jest a-gonna stand up an' yell right out that I
ain't gonna stand fer hit no longer."
"Now, dear," said Joanne Marie, "the captain can hear ya, if you're
gonna talk so loud."
"I hope he does; I jest hope he does. He's th' one that's a-keepin' us
all from our Reward, an' I jest hope he does heyar me, so he'll know
I'm a-gittin' mighty tyird uv waitin'."
"You tell 'im!" someone said from two rows behind him.
* * * * *
The captain, in the officer's section, sat very straight and tall. He
was studiously ignoring the crew. This confined his field of vision to
the left half of the recreation area. While the priest stood before the
speaker's rostrum waiting for silence, the captain reached back with
great dignity and scratched his right shoulder blade.
Nestir, the priest, was dressed out in the full ceremonial costume
of office. His high, strapless boots glistened with polish. His fez
perched jauntily on his shiny, shaven head. The baldness was symbolic
of diligent mental application to abstruse points of doctrine. _Cotian
exentiati pablum re overum est_: "Grass grows not in the middle of
a busy thoroughfare." The baldness was the result of the diligent
application of an effective depilatory. His blood-red cloak had been
freshly cleaned for the occasion, and it rustled around him in silky
sibilants.
"Men," he said. And then, more loudly, "Men!"
The hiss and sputter of conversation guttered away.
"Men," he said.
"The other evening," he said, "--Gelday it was, to be exact--one of the
crew came to me with a complaint."
"Well, I'll be damned," Joanne Marie's husband said loudly.
Nestir cleared his throat. "It was about the Casting Off. That's why
I called you all together today." He stared away, at a point over the
head and to the rear of the audience.
"It puts me in mind of the parable of the six Vergios."
Joanne Marie's husband sighed deeply.
"Three, you will recall, were wise. When Prophet was at Meizque, they
came to him and said, 'Prophet, we are afflicted. We have great sores
upon our bodies.' The Prophet looked at them and did see that it _was_
true. Then he blessed them and took out His knife and lay open their
sores. For which the three wise Vergios were passing grateful. And
within the last week, they were dead of infection. But three were
foolish and hid their sores; and these three did live."
The captain rubbed his nose.
"_Calex i pundendem hoy_, my children. 'Secrecy makes for a long life,'
as it says in the _Jarcon_." Nestir tugged behind him at his cloak.
"I want you all to remember that little story. I want you all to take
it away from here with you and think about it, tonight, in the privacy
of your cabins.
"And like the three wise Vergios who went to the Prophet, one of the
crewmen came to me. He came to me, and he said: 'Father, I am weary of
sailing.'
"Yes, he said, 'I am weary of sailing.'
"Now, don't you think I don't know that. Every one of you--every
blessed one of you--is weary of sailing. I know that as well as I know
my own name, yes.
"But because he came to me and said, 'Father, I am weary of sailing,'
I went to the captain, and I said, 'Captain, the men are weary of
sailing.'
"And then the captain said: 'All right, Father,' he said, 'I will set
the day for the Festival of the Casting Off!'"
* * * * *
The little fellow was pleased by the rustle of approval from the
audience. "God damn, hit's about time!" Joanne Marie's husband said.
Nestir cleared his throat again.
"Hummm. Uh. And the day is not very far distant," said Nestir.
"I knowed there was a catch to hit," Joanne Marie's husband said.
"I know you will have many questions; yes, I know you will have--ah,
ah--well, many questions. You are thinking: 'What kind of a Festival
can we have here on this ship?' You are thinking: 'What a fine
thing--ah, what a good thing, that is--ah, how nice it would be to have
the Casting Off at home, among friends.'"
Nestir waved his hands. "Well, I just want to tell you: I come from
Koltah. And you know that Koltah never let any city state outdo her in
a Festival, uh-huh.
"The arena in Koltah is the greatest arena in the whole system. We have
as many as sixty thousand accepted applicants. All of them together in
the arena is a--uh, uh, well--a sight to behold. People come from all
over to behold it. I never will forget the Festival at which my father
was accepted. He....
"Well, the point I want to make is this: I just wanted to tell you
that I know what a Festival should be, and the captain and I will do
everything in our power to make our Casting Off as wonderful as any
anywhere.
"And I want to tell you that if you'll come to me with your
suggestions, I'll do all I can to see that we do this thing just the
way you want it done. I want you to be proud of this Casting Off
Festival, so you can look back on it and say, uh, uh--this day was the
real high point of your whole life!"
Everyone but Joanne Marie's husband cheered. He sat glumly muttering to
himself.
Nestir bobbed his shiny head at them and beamed his cherubic smile. And
noticed that there was a little blonde, one of the crewmen's wives, in
the front row that had very cute ankles.
While they were still cheering and stomping and otherwise expressing
their enthusiasm and approval, Nestir walked off the speaker's platform
and into the officer's corridor. He wiped his forehead indecorously on
the hem of his cloak and felt quite relieved that the announcement was
over with and the public speaking done.