Riverworld, Day 44, Evening

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"Yes, it is possible Shaka lied to misdirect us," Ehrich said. "But
from the limited time I knew him, he does not seem to be the type to
use such misdirection.  To me he seems more like the type to relish a
direct confrontation.  You have known him much more than the single
day that I have, am I wrong?"

Josephine stood back from the rest of the group discussing the news
delivered by the Zulu, watching with interest.  Her eyes scanned over
her traveling companions contemplatively, lingering for a long moment
on Shaw before returning to the Zulu.  Her trained eyes focused on
their body language, but saw no sign of uncertainty or potential
violence.

Smiling sweetly, she tapped Shaw's arm and pulled him aside, turning
her back on the Zulus and speaking very softly, her lips nearly
motionless.

"If the Zulu could understand English, isn't all of this discussion
depicting a group of uncertain, disjointed people?"

Shaw locked eyes with Josephine for a moment and gives her a barely
perceptible nod.

While Charles spoke on the possibility that Shaka might intentionally
mislead the group, Benjamin's eyes had scanned the horizon downRiver
for signs of smoke, for stands of trees cut down, for debris in the
River flushed from refining or mining, or other signs that the forge
might be here, not ten grails upRiver. He saw nothing out of the
ordinary, if anything on Riverworld could be counted as ordinary.

"I do not see any Need for spying," he said to Charles. "especially
not if it might put us into Conflict with these fell Warriors.  Why
would Shaka send us on a Fool's Errand upRiver?  Perhaps to keep us
from finding something here, but there are no signs of the Forge here,
and I know not what else might be of enough interest.  And I see no
quicker way to achieve Confirmation than to sail upRiver; we can be
there within three or four Days at most, possibly less."

"Yes, three or four days sounds about right," Shaw responded slowly,
"but what about the scythe? Are we going to just leave it here?"

Ehrich nodded. "Yes, leaving behind the scythe could be a mistake.  It
undoubtedly could be used as a symbol just by itself, perhaps
encouraging these Celts to war.  Or someone might follow the same path
we are on and search for the source of the metal.  Perhaps even the
scythe itself was responsible for Shaka's dreams, which seem much more
clear in intent than any of our dreams."

"You are right, Ehrich," Charles said. "Shaka is not a person who
would use subterfuge and deceit to mislead us.  Unless he is being
controlled by another person.  I agree with you all, let us set out to
10 stones upriver, in search of the forge of metal."

He looked over at Shaw.  "Shaw, I think we should first examine the
grailstones.  If Shaka was killed by these barbarians Downriver of us,
then we would lose many in a battle.  I think we should find the
source of metal to the north, and if not, we can return here, and
decide our next plan."

He addressed the warriors in Zulu.  "Shaka great warrior, you great
warriors. Find honor in battle. Seek glory. If Find great Metal
blade. Meet us Here in 10 days, or Come north 10 Stones. Go now in
honor.  I honor you." Charles bowed a little toward the Zulu, and
turned back to his friends as the Zulu left the camp, returning to the
hills as the sun set.

"Let us gather our things and be gone -- we have a quest to follow,"
Charles concluded. He hefted his grail and other possessions and walked
back towards the boat.

They boarded the boat, and Shaw saw them safely into the River and
headed north into the looming darkness. He whispered to Josephine
before turning the tiller over to her.

"I think you were quite close to the truth back there," Shaw said
quietly. "I nearly burst trying to keep a straight face."
He went down to the cabin of the boat, leaving Josephine at the helm.

Finally, Shaw thought, I have a chance to consult my visions again. He
took out one of his cubes of dreamgum and chewed furiously until he
fell into a stupor.

The boat sailed upRiver through the night, and the morning, the
travelers relying on their stores of dried fish and non-perishable
grail food. Before the noon grail firing, they had traveled eight
grailstones north, and found themselves faced with civilizations on
either bank. To the west, a group of muscular Caucasian men and women
had built a harbor and sailboats; to the east, a leaner group of
Asians had constructed piers and sampans. Most unusually, each small
town seemed to be engaged in building pedal-powered go-carts from the
ubiquitous bamboo and the less common wood.

Before the group had time to make sense of the behavior, or to decide
at which bank to put in to refill their grails, Freud called out from
the cabin. "Get down here and help me with Shaw!"

The others pressed into the small space. Josephine, fleetest of foot
and most worried, was at Freud's side first. Freud was shaking
Shaw. "I can't seem to wake him up," Freud said.

"Try this," Josephine replied, pouring a cup of water onto Shaw's
face. Shaw awoke, spluttering. "It's okay," he explained, looking over
at their faces. "I've always been a deep sleeper, and now and then I
have trouble waking up."

Shaw kept his private thoughts to himself, however. He could not
remember the dreamgum visions, but he knew that they had been true,
and important -- and that someone was interfering with them, someone
on the boat. As his eyes passed over the others, his mind furiously
cataloged them. Charles had not seemed concerned over his condition;
Freud's shaking or Josephine's water might have disturbed the visions;
Jeanne had been friendly, but both she was in Father Gregory's sway;
Ehrich was mysterious, almost a nonentity, but could be hiding
something. Shaw knew that the time was coming when he would have to
act to protect his visions, so his visions would protect him.

			      *  *  *  *

Louis looked up at Pala, at the spear, and allowed the smallest of smiles
to arch his lips. He held up his right hand, and grasped the
spear. Pala, his muscles straining, pulled Louis up from the pit.

Pala directed him toward the hut of another Zulu man, Moz, where there
was an extra pile of grass which served as a bed. Louis slept
fitfully, but awakened feeling refreshed.

He learned the routine of the camp the next day. The morning before
the firing of the grailstone was spent practicing with spear and
body shield. After breakfast, while others worked on building a wall
to protect the village, Moz began to give him lessons in Zulu, showing
him the words for simple objects and actions.

"Pala not hate you," Moz explained slowly, "but Shaka bad
ruti. Shaka's friends, like yellow man, go away. Bad ruti."

In the afternoon, Zulus and Celts streamed in and out of a larger hut
at the center of the encampment, but Moz didn't take Louis
in. Otherwise, the two peoples seemed to keep to themselves, Louis
noticed.

			      *  *  *  *

Shaka shook his head in puzzlement at the people confronting him.
Again and again he tried speaking to them in every language he knew.
"I look for Pala, of the Zulu.  He has betrayed me and must pay!"

Unable to make himself understood, Shaka growled in frustration. The
people seemed to understand his annoyance, and, after showing him to
their grail, sat before him and ate their noon meal while Shaka began
a pantomime.

Shaka drew in the dirt, making pictures of his metal scythe, using the
metal of the grails to bring his point home.  Then he drew the men
with blue faces using the blue of a towel to indicate the color of
their faces. The villagers were confused, but one, seeing the blue
faces, nodded and indicated for Shaka to stay and wait until the
morning.

After a restless night, Shaka arose to find an old man waiting for
him. He repeated his drawing, and the man pointed to the blue-faced
images, and then pointed downRiver. The old man held up 10 fingers.

			      *  *  *  *

When Sly awoke from his unconsciousness, he found that he was still 
in the pit. Determined this time to succeed, he managed to cut himself
with a jagged stone and soon bled to death.

He awoke, blinking his eyes at the light of Riverworld's dawn. Sitting
up, he saw that he had been resurrected among a group from India. His
eyes widened in surprise as he saw the darker-skinned figure speaking
to an old man.

"Bloody 'ell!" Sly exclaimed, startling the villagers near the
grailstone where he sat, newly reborn, and regarded Shaka. "You
again?"