The freebies had become very valuable; people bullied and thieved and killed to get them. If a person had a private grail and a freebie, he or she had twice as much food and luxuries as he or she was supposed to get.
Burton himself had never owned one, but here were thirty on racks before him.
The problem of the lost grails was solved-if he could get the headman to part with them. After all, his raft was responsible for the loss of the boat and the grails. He owed the crew of the Hadji II.
So far, he and his crew had been treated decently. He could think of other groups he had met that would have done nothing for them except throw them overboard-after mass-raping the women and perhaps sodomizing the men.
However, there might be a limit to the raftspeople's hospitality. The free grails were anything but free. This group might even have stolen these. However they got them, they would be saving them for emergencies, such as replacements for those they lost or as tribute if they ran into a particularly hostile and powerful group.
Burton left the building, barred the door after him, and walked around pondering. If he asked the chief to give him seven grails, he could be refused. That would make the man suspicious, and he would set up guards over this building. Not to mention the fact that he might get nervous having potential thieves around and would ask them, politely or otherwise, to leave.
Passing by the idol, he saw that the chief had stopped praying and was walking toward the island. Apparently, he intended to supervise the activities there.
Burton decided to ask him now about the grails. No use putting off the issue.
The man who sits on his arse sits on his fortune.
19
Mutu-Sha-Hj was his native name, meaning "Man of GOD," but to Esperanto speakers he was Metusael. In English, Methusaleh.
For a delirious moment, Burton wondered if he had met the model for the long-lived patriarch of the Old Testament. No. Metusael was a Babylonian, and he had never heard of Hebrews until he had come to The Riverworld. He had been an inspector of granaries on Earth, but here he was the founder and head of a new religion and commander of the great raft.
"One night many years ago, while a storm raged outside, I was sleeping. And a god came to me in my dream, a god named Rushhub. I had never heard of this god, but he told me that he had once been a mighty god of my ancestors. Their descendants, however, had abandoned him, and in my lifetime on Earth only a small village at the edge of the kingdom had still worshipped him.
"But gods do not die, though they may take other forms and new names, or even become nameless; and he had lived in the dreams of many people through many generations. Now he had decided that the time was come to leave the dreamworld. Thus, he told me that I must arise and go forth and preach the worship of Rushhub. I must gather together a group of the faithful and build a giant raft and take my people down The River upon it.
"After many years, perhaps several generations as we knew generations on Earth, we would come to the end of The River, where it empties into a hole in the base of the mountains that ring the top of this world.
"There, we would go through the underworld, a great dark cavern, and then we would come out into a bright sea surrounding a land where we would live forever in peace and happiness with the gods and goddesses themselves.
"But before the raft was launched we must make a statue of the god Rushhub and set it upon the raft and worship it as the symbol of Rushhub. So do not say, as so many have said, that we are idolaters who mistake the physical symbol for the body of the god itself."
Burton thought the man was crazy, though he was discreet enough not to say so. He and his crew had fallen into the hands of fanatics. Fortunately, the god had told Metusael that his worshippers must harm no one unless it was in self-defense. However, he knew from experience that "self-defense" could mean whatever a person or group wanted it to mean.
"Rushhub himself told me that just before we enter the underworld, we must break the idol into little bits and cast them into The River. He did not say why we should do so. He merely said that by the time we reach the cavern, we will understand."
"That is all very well for you," Burton said. "But you are responsible for destroying our boat. Also, we have lost our grails.''
"I am indeed sorry, but there is little I can do for you. What happened to you is the will of Rushhub."
Burton felt like striking the man in his face. Mastering himself, he said, "Three of my people are too injured at the moment to move them very far. Could you at least give us a boat so we could get to shore?"
Metusael glared with fierce black eyes, and. he pointed at the island..
"There is the shore, and there is a foodstone. I will see that your injured are placed there, and we will give you some dried fish and acorn bread. In the meantime, please do not trouble me with any more requests. I have work to do. We must get our raft back into The River. Rushhub told me that we should not delay our journey for any reason whatsoever.
"If we take too long, we may find the gates to the land of the gods forever shut. Then we will be left to howl at the gates and repent in vain for our lack of faith and determination."
At that moment Burton decided that anything he did would be justified. These people owed him much, and he owed them nothing.
Metusael had walked away. Now he stopped suddenly, pointing at Monat, who had just come out of the building.
"What is that?"
Burton walked up to him and said,' "That is a man from another world. He and some of his kind traveled from a distant star to Earth. This was over a hundred years after I died, perhaps four thousand years after you died. He came in peace, but the people of Earth discovered that he had a... drug which could keep people from aging. They demanded that he tell them its secret, but he refused. He said that Earth people had enough problems as it was with overpopulation. Besides, a person should not be given the chance to live forever unless that person was worthy of it."
''He was wrong then,'' Metusael said. "The gods have given us a chance to live forever." '
"Yes, in a way. Though, according to your religion, only a very small group, just those on this raft, will become truly immortal. Am I right?"
"It seems hard," Metusael said. "But that is the way it is, and who are we to question the motives and methods of the gods?"
"It is, however, a fact that we only know what the gods desire through human beings who speak for them. I have never met a person yet whose motives and methods I would not question."
"The more fool you."
"Aside from that,'' Burton said, smiling to hide his anger, "the Arcturans, Monat and his people, were attacked by the Earth people. They were all killed, but before he died Monat caused almost all of the Earth people to die."
He paused. How could he explain to this ignoramus that the Arcturans had left their mother ship in orbit around Earth? And that Monat had transmitted a radio wave signal to the orbiting vessel and that it had projected an energy beam of such a frequency that only human beings had died?
He did not really understand it himself, since in his time such things as radio and spaceships had not existed.
Metusael was wide-eyed now. Looking at Monat, he said, "He is a great magician? He killed all those people through his powers?"
For a moment, Burton considered using Monat's supposed magic as alever. Perhaps he could pry a boat and free-grails out of this man if he threatened him. But, though Metusael might be ignorant, and crazed, he was not unintelligent. He would ask why Monat, if he was such a sorcerer, had not protected the HadjiII from destruction and his companions from hurt. He also might ask why Burton needed a boat, since surely Monat could give them the power to fly through the air.