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I said to Helga, “Can’t we go straight back? I’m starting to feel sick.”

“This is the quickest way back,” she said. “We can’t sail directly into the wind. We have to tack, head into the wind at an angle.”

“But we’re going so slow,” I said. It was the slow way we rammed into waves, surged high, and then pitched down on the other side that threw my stomach off stride.

Ralph yanked on the line that was attached to the boom, and swung it over from one side of the boat to the other, turning the tiller at the same time, and we headed back in toward the quay in another slow tack. By that time, I was feeling miserable.

“Don’t throw up,” Helga said cheerfully. “We’ll be back soon enough.” Then she raised her voice. “You’ve had it your fair turn, Ralph. Let me take over.”

“Oh, all right,” Ralph said, quite reluctantly.

Helga ducked back to the stern, taking the tiller and the boom line from Ralph. She nodded at me. “She’s feeling sick,” she said.

“Oh,” Ralph said. He came forward and sat down beside me.

He looked at me and said, “It takes awhile to get your sea-legs. After you sail for awhile you get used to it.”

He didn’t say anything while we completed that leg and part of the next tack. He just watched Helga a little wistfully. I began to think that this sailing thing — provided first that you were feeling well enough to enjoy it at all — was much more fun for the person actually doing the sailing than for the passengers. Helga and Ralph, at least, both seemed to be having much more fun when they were sailing than when they were sitting up front. Perhaps it was just that they felt they had to talk to me, and that was an effort for them.

Ralph said, “Uh, well, how do you think our fathers are getting along?”

I swallowed, trying to keep control of my stomach. I said, “I don’t know. I don’t even know what they were going to trade for.”

He looked at me in surprise. “You don’t even know that? We operate placer mines just to produce tungsten ore for you, we ship it all the way here, and you don’t even know it!”

“Why don’t…” I paused, and grabbed hard onto the side of the boat (gunwale) and fought hard to hold onto my composure as we dipped into a sudden trough. “Why don’t you mine this stuff, whatever it is, just for yourselves?”

Somewhat bitterly he said, “We don’t know how to reduce it. You Ship people won’t tell us how. When we trade with you, all you give us is little bits and pieces of information.”

We were heeling over into our last tack then, about to head down the last stretch to the dock.

I said, “And why not? We preserved all the knowledge through the years since Earth was destroyed. If we gave it all to you, what would we have left to trade with?”

“My dad says you’re parasites,” he said. “You live off our hard work. You’re Grabbies, and that’s no mistake.”

“We are not parasites,” I said.

“If things were the way they ought to be, we’d be the ones living like kings, not you.”

“If we live like kings, why were you saying earlier that we had to live all crowded together in barracks?”

He was nonplussed for a moment and then he said, “Because you like to live like pigs, that’s why. I can’t help it if you like to live like pigs.”

“If there are any pigs around here, it’s you Mudeaters,” I said.

“What?”

“Mudeaters!”

“Grabbie! Why don’t you take a bath?” He put his hand against my chest and gave a hard shove. In spite of our quarreling, he caught me unprepared, and I went tumbling overboard.

The feel of the water was shocking. It was colder than the air, though after the first moment not unpleasantly cold. I got a mouthful of water as I went under and it was very bad-tasting, dirty and bitter. I came up, coughing and spluttering, as the boat swung on past me. I got a glimpse of Helga with her head turned back toward me and a surprised look on her face. I treaded water while I coughed out the water that had gone down my windpipe, and some that had gone down the wrong way came up the wrong way and out my nose. It took several seconds before I was breathing properly. The shock and choking did settle my stomach, I found to my surprise, but it wasn’t the way I’d have chosen to do it if I had had a choice.

Helga had spilled the air out of the canvas and turned the tiller. The Guacamole was just rocking on the water and drifting. She stood up, looking back at me.

“Do you need help?” she called.

We weren’t really far from the dock, so I called, “No, I can swim in.”

I had light clothing on. My wet, loose sleeves were a little of a problem, but I found I could manage. I’d never swum in anything but a pool before, but I found it wasn’t really a problem to stay on top of the waves, though I had to be careful that I didn’t swallow any more of that bitter water. I wasn’t a fast swimmer, but I was built enough like a cork that all I had to do was keep at it and I had no trouble going where I wanted to.

As it was, we were close enough to the dock when I went overboard that I was able to reach a ladder by the time they had the Guacamole all tied up. I pulled myself up and then found that I was very tired, collapsed in a heap and dripped water all over the boards of the dock. I watched as thirty feet down the way, Ralph and Helga lowered the sail and lashed the boom.

As they finished, I got up and walked down the dock to the head of their ladder. The gravity had taken most of the energy out of me. Ralph caught on to the end of the ladder and started up. He had an apologetic look on his face as he saw me waiting. When he had gotten to the top and was just about to step out on the dock, I grabbed the ladder in both hands to brace myself, put a sandal lengthwise across his stomach, and pushed off as hard as I could.

He had a strong grip, but I caught him off balance. He let go of the ladder, waved his arms in an attempt to hold his balance but then saw he couldn’t. He twisted to guide his fall and turned it into a dive. He entered the water cleanly just behind his little boat. I leaned over and waited until he came up. Then I gave a look to Helga.

She shook her head. “I didn’t do anything,” she said fearfully.

Ralph caught on to the stern of the Guacamole, and clung there. He looked up at me, hopping mad.

“I had a real swell time,” I said. “Both of you will have to come up to the Ship sometime, and let me show you around.”

Then I walked away, leaving a dripping trail. I pushed my wet hair back off my forehead, squeezed a little water out of my sleeves, and shook myself as dry as I could. Then I left the quay. I didn’t look back at all. Let them solve their own problems.

I set off up the street that we’d come down. Some of the people on the street looked oddly at me as I passed. I suppose I was a strange sight, an odd little girl, dressed in funny clothes and wringing wet. I wasn’t sure where I was and where I’d find the scoutship, but I wasn’t worried about it. Somehow, during the course of the hours I’d been here, Grainau had lost its power to scare me.

As it turned out, it didn’t matter that I didn’t know my way around. Before I’d even gotten to the top of the hill I ran into the monster, the dinosaur, George Fuhonin. He’d been out looking for me, and surprisingly, I was almost glad to see him.

He said, “What happened to you?”

I wasn’t dripping by that time, but I was still wet, looking, I’m quite sure, like a half-drowned kitten fished out of the water. Thoroughly bedraggled.

I said, “We went swimming.”

“Oh. Well, come back to the ship and we’ll get you dried out.”

I fell into step beside him, as best I could. We walked on silently for a few minutes, and then he said, “You know, I really didn’t intend to embarrass you. I wouldn’t have done that intentionally.”