Reith took Zap 210 to the inn. She sat on the couch in her cubicle, clutching the gray gown about herself, limp and miserable. Reith sat down beside her.
"What happened?"
Tears dripped down her cheeks; she held her hands to her face. Reith stroked her head. Presently she wiped her eyes. "I don't know what I did wrong-unless it was the sash. He made me drink wine until I became dizzy. He took me through the streets ... I felt very strange. I could hardly walk. In the house I wouldn't take off my clothes and he became angry. Then he saw me and he became even angrier. He said I was unclean ... I don't know what to do with myself. I'm sick, I'm dying."
Reith said, "No, you're not sick or dying. Your body has started to function normally. There's nothing whatever wrong with you."
"I'm not unclean?"
"Of course not." Reith rose to his feet. "I'll send in a maid to take care of you. Then just lie quietly and sleep until I return-I hope with enough money to put us aboard a ship."
Zap 210 nodded listlessly; Reith departed the cubicle.
At the cafe Reith found Cauch and two young Zsafathrans who had come to Urmank aboard the second cart. "This is Schazar; this is Widisch," said Cauch. "Both are reckoned competent; I have no doubt but that they will fulfill any reasonable requirements."
"In that case," said Reith, "let's be off about our business. We haven't too much time to spare, or so I should judge."
The four sauntered off down the quay. Reith explained his theories: "-which now we must put to the test. Mind you, I may be wrong, in which case the project will fail."
"No," said Cauch. "You have employed an extraordinary mental process to adduce what I now see to be limpid truth."
"The process is called logic," said Reith. "It is not always dependable. But we shall see."
They passed the eel-race table, where a few folk had already settled at the benches, ready for the day's gambling. Reith hurried his steps: under the portal, through the dismal byways of Urmank Old Town, toward the shed under the psilla tree. They halted fifty yards away and took cover in a ruined hut at the edge of the wastelands.
Ten minutes passed. Reith began to fidget. "I can't believe that we've come too late."
The young man Schazar pointed across the wastes, to the far end of the wall.
"Two men."
The men strolled closer. One affected the flowing white robes and square white hat of an Erze Island Sage: "The eel-master," muttered Cauch. The other, a young man, wore a pink skullcap and a light pink cape. The two walked casually and confidently along the trail and parted company near the shed. The eel-master continued toward the portal. Widisch said: "Easier merely to waylay the old charlatan and divest him of his pouch; the effect, after all, is the same."
"Unfortunately," said Cauch, "he carries no sequins on his person, and makes the fact well known. His funds are brought to the eel-races daily by four armed slaves under the supervision of his chief wife."
The young man in pink strolled to the shed. He fitted a key in the lock, turned it three times, opened the ponderous door and entered the shed. He turned with surprise to find that Reith and Schazar had also pushed into the shed beside him. He attempted to bluster. "What is the meaning of this?"
"I will speak one time only," said Reith. "We want your unstinting cooperation; otherwise we will hang you by the toes to yonder psilla. Is that clear?"
"I understand perfectly," said the young man with a quaver.
"Describe the routine."
The young man hesitated. Reith nodded to Schazar, who brought forth a coil of hard cord. The young man said quickly, "The routine is quite simple. I undress and step into the tank." He indicated a cylindrical pool four feet in diameter at the back of the shed. "A tube communicates with the reservoir; the level in the tank and that in the reservoir are the same. I swim through the tube to the reservoir and come up into a space in the peripheral frame. As soon as the lid is lowered, I open a partition. I reach into the reservoir and move the specified eel to the edge of the chute."
"And how is the color specified?"
"By the eel-master's finger-taps on the top of the lid."
Reith turned to Cauch. "Schazar and I are now in control. I suggest that you now take your places at the table." He spoke to the young man in pink: "Is there sufficient space for two under the reservoir?"
"Yes," said the young man grudgingly. "Just barely. But tell me: if I cooperate with you, how will I protect myself from the eel-master?"
"Be frank with him," said Reith. "State that you value your life more than his sequins."
"He will say that as far as he is concerned, affairs are reversed."
"Too bad," said Reith. "The hazard of your trade. How soon should we be in position?"
"Within a minute or so."
Reith removed his outer garments. "If by some ineptness we are detected ...
surely the consequences are as plain to you as to me."
The apprentice merely grunted. He doffed his pink robe. "Follow me." He stepped into the tank. "The way is dark but straight."
Reith joined him in the tank. The young man drew a deep breath and submerged; Reith did the same. At the bottom, finding a horizontal tube about three feet in diameter, he pulled himself through, staying close behind the apprentice.
They surfaced in a space about four feet long, a foot and a half high, a foot wide. Light entered through artfully arranged crevices, which also allowed a view over the gaming tables; Reith thus could see that both Cauch and Widisch had found places along the counter.
From near at hand came the eel-master's voice. "Welcome all to another day of exciting races. Who will win? Who will lose? No one knows. It may be me, it may be you. But we all will enjoy the fun of the races. For those who are new to our little game, you will notice that the board before you is marked with eleven colors. You may bet any amount on any of the colors. If your color wins, you are paid ten times the amount of your bet. Note these eels and their colors: white, gray, tawny, light blue, brown, dark red, vermilion, blue, green, violet, black.
Are there any questions?"
"Yes," called Cauch. "Is there any limit on the betting?"
"The case now being delivered contains ten thousand sequins. This is my limit; I pay no more. Please place your bets."
With a practiced eye the eel-master appraised the table. He lifted the lid, set the eels into the center of the reservoir. "No more betting, please." On the lid sounded tap-tap tap-tap.
"Two-two," whispered the apprentice. "That's green." He pushed aside a panel and reaching into the reservoir, seized the green eel and set it into the mouth of the chute. Then he drew back and closed the panel.
"Green wins!" called the eel-master. "So then--I pay! Twenty sequins to this sturdy seafarer ... Make your bets, please."
Tap tap-tap-tap sounded on the lid. "Vermilion," whispered the apprentice. He performed as before.
"Vermilion wins!" called the eel-master.
Reith kept his eye to the crack. On each occasion Cauch and Widisch had risked a pair of sequins. On the third betting round each placed thirty sequins on white.
"Bets are now made," came the eel-master's voice. The lid came down. Tap tap came the sounds.
"Brown," whispered the apprentice.
"White," said Reith. "The white eel wins."
The apprentice groaned in muted distress. He put the white eel into the chute.