"Meanwhile, we can look for a pilot. Though they're very rare, somewhere along The River, within two thousand kilometers either way, there must be the man we're looking for.
"Or perhaps I might say, there could be one. Actually, the odds are high against finding one."
"I was a balloonist, "Frigate said. "And I read a great deal about lighter-than-air craft. I was up in a blimp for two short flights. That doesn't near make me an expert, of course."
"Perhaps we'll have to train ourselves, Sinjoro Frigate. In which case, any knowledge will be of help."
"Of course, that was a long time ago. I've forgotten a lot."
"You don't exactly inspire confidence, Pete," the Frisco Kid said fiercely.
"Confidence comes with experience," Podebrad said. "Now, gentlemen, I will start at once. I'll delay my announcement of my conversion until after the airship is ready to leave. No member of the Church, no one preaching total passive resistance, can be head of this state."
Frigate wondered how deep the man's conversion was. It seemed to him that anybody who really believed in the tenets of the Church would say so at once. No matter what the consequences would be.
"As soon as our conference is over, I'll get the facilities for making hydrogen underway. I think the best method, considering the minerals available, will be by the reaction of dilute sulfuric acid and zinc. Our sulfuric acid industry has been operating for some time. We were fortunate in finding both platinum and vanadium, though not in large quantities.
"I do wish we could make aluminum, but..."
"The Schutte-Lanz airships were made of wood," Frigate said. "A blimp wouldn't need much wood, anyway."
Farrington said, "Wood! You want me to go up in a wooden dirigible?"
''The only wood would be in the keel and the car," Frigate said. "The envelope could be made from the intestinal lining of the dragonfish."
"Which requires much fishing," Podebrad said. He stood up.
"I have much work to get done today. But I'll see you gentlemen tomorrow during lunch. We can discuss this in detail men. Meanwhile, good day."
Farrington, looking grave, spoke to Rider as they left the building.
"If you ask me, this is crazy!"
"It sounds great to me," Tom said. "To tell the truth, I'm getting pretty tired of sailing."
"Yeah, but we could get killed while we're bumbling around trying to learn how to fly that damned thing!
"And what if we find it won't work then? We'll have tost a lot of time!"
Frigate said, "That doesn't sound like the man who ferried people through the White Horse rapids in Alaska, time and again, just to pick up a few bucks. Or the man who pirated oysters..."
He turned pale. Rider and Farrington had stopped, and their faces were hard.
Farrington said slowly, "I've told a lot of stories about the Yukon, but I never said anything about the White Horse rapids. Not to you anyway. Have you been eavesdropping?"
Frigate drew a deep bream, and said, "Hell, I don't have to eavesdrop! I recognized you two the first time I saw you!"
Suddenly, Rider was behind him and Farrington had put his hand on the hilt of his flint knife.
Rider spoke in a low monotone. "Okay, whoever you are, just march on ahead of me. Right into the ship. And don't try anything funny."
"I'm not going incognito!" Frigate said. "You are!"
"Just do as I say."
Frigate shrugged, and he tried to grin. "It's evident you two are doing a lot more than just concealing your true identities. All right. I'll go. But you wouldn't kill me, would you?"
"That depends," Rider said.
They walked down the hill and across the plain. At the dock the only crew member present was Nur, who was talking to a woman. Rider said, "Not a word, Pete. And smile."
Frigate, looking straight at the little Moor, grimaced. He hoped that Nur would detect that something was wrong-he was so sensitive to expressions-but Nur only waved at them. When they were in the captain's cabin, Frisco shut the door and made Frigate sit on the edge of the bunk.
Frigate said, "I've been with you twenty-six years. Twenty-six! And I've never told anybody what your real names were."
Farrington sat down in the chair at his desk. Toying with his knife, he said, "That seems against human nature. How could you keep your mouth shut that long? And why?"
"Especially why?" Rider said. He stood near the door, a horn-fish stiletto in his hand.
"It was evident that you didn't want it known, for one thing. So, being your friend, I didn't say anything. Though I will admit I wondered why you were so secretive."
Farrington looked at Rider. "What do you think, Tom?"
Rider shrugged, and said, "We made a mistake. We should have just laughed it off. Admitted who we are and made up some tall tale to account for it."
Farrington put the knife down and lit a cigarette.
"Yeah. That's hindsight. What'll we do now?"
Rider said, "After all this mysterious folderol, Pete must know we got something to hide."
"He already said that."
Rider sheathed the stiletto and lit a cigarette. Frigate wondered if he should make a break for it now. His chances for success were small. Though both men were smaller, they were very strong and quick. Besides, trying to escape would make him look guilty.
Guilty of what?
Tom said, "That's better. Forget about getting away. Relax."
"With you two thinking of murder?"
Rider laughed and said, "After all these years you ought to know we can't kill in cold blood. Even a stranger, and we're sort of fond of you, Pete."
"Well, if I were what you think I am, whatever that is, what would you do?"
"Work up a passion so I wouldn't have to kill you in cold blood, I reckon."
"Why?"
"If you aren't really Peter Frigate, then you know."
"Who in hell else could I be?"
There was a long silence. Finally, Farrington ground out his cigarette in an ashtray clamped to the desk.
' "The thing is, Tom," he said, "he has been with us longer man any of our wives. If he was one of Them, why would he stay around so long? Especially since he claims he recognized us the day he met us.
"We would have been scooped up that night, if he's one of Them."
"Maybe," Tom said. "We don't know more than one-quarter of what's going on. One-eightieth, maybe. And what we do know may be a lie. Maybe we've been played for suckers."
"Them? Scooped up?" Frigate said.
Martin Farrington looked at Tom, and he said, "What'll we do now? There isn't any way of identifying Them. We're fools, Tom. We should've just told him a big lie. Now we got to go all the way."
"If he's one of Them, then he already knows," Rider.said. "So we wouldn't be telling him much he doesn't know. Except about the Ethical. And if he is an agent, then he wouldn't have been put on our trail unless They suspected we'd been contacted by Him."
"Yeah, we jumped the gun. And there isn't any gun inthe first place. You know, if Pete's an agent, why would he have suggested the blimp? Would an agent want us to get to the tower?"
"That's right. Unless ..."
"Don't keep me hanging."
"Unless there's something haywire, and he's as much in the dark now as we are."
"What do you mean?"
"Listen, Tom, lately I've been doing a lot of thinking when I should've been sleeping or screwing. I've been thinking that there's something mysterious going on. I don't mean what the Ethical told us. I mean this business of there suddenly being no more resurrections.
"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe stopping them wasn't the original plan-whatever that is?"
"You mean, somebody threw a monkey wrench in the machinery? And that blew the fuse and left everybody in the dark?"