Riverworld, Day 45, Morning * * * * Louis ate the food from the morning's grail slowly, mulling over the possible meanings of "bad ruti." Bad leader? Bad luck? Unfortunate in the eyes of their god(s)? Very interesting, and vexing at the same time. Not ever having trained properly with shield and spear, Louis relished the physical activity. He studied the Celts; he knew they hadn't painted their faces in hundreds of years. But then again, hundreds of years ago could mean very little on this accursed River. It was the beginning of time all over again for him. His day was spent much like the last; eating, training, and learning Zulu from Moz. The Zulu had also raised Sly's lifeless body from the pit. Preparing to cast it into the River, Moz asked Louis if he wished to say anything to the gods about Sly first. * * * * "Freud," Charles asked, "What brought you down here?" "I was going to find Shaw, to bring him up to see the banks," the Austrian replied. "But he was sleeping in a stupor, and I could not awaken him." Charles nodded. "Are you okay, Shaw?" "Really, I'm fine," Shaw responded. "I was a bit of a deep sleeper in my older years, I guess old habits just die hard." Josephine thought she could detect a sound of falseness behind his tone, but could not be sure. "You are used to this?" Jeanne asked. "Do you dream more deeply when in this state? Did you dream now? What did you see?" She glanced at Father Gregory quickly. "Nothing," Shaw said. "No dreams." He walked from the cabin onto deck. Jeanne's questions raised the hackles on Shaw's neck. Already suspicious of Father Gregory, he wondered just how much control the man might have over Jeanne. The concern with Shaw concluded, Benjamin raised his eyes from his carving of chess pieces and peered closely at the ships, the buildings, the vehicles, and the people on the Riverbanks. "I wonder if we could be allowed to view, or perhaps even to buy, one of those Vehicles," he suggested. "Do these Peoples wish to travel farther or faster, or to carry more?" "What are they?" Jeanne asked, "And why do they make them?" "When I was a boy," Father Gregory said, "children would build carts to play in." "Pedal-powered cars -- four-wheeled vehicles," Josephine said, translating her twentieth century vernacular for Jeanne. "Pretty smart." Benjamin's eyes and mind were drawn to the twin cities, the bustling development of civilization, industry, and all the consequences thereof. This was what he should be doing, perhaps. All this running about like a chess piece was exciting, but what this world really needs is some cities, building, industry. The tools to build the time and luxury in which to pursue the arts, the sciences, and the spiritual studies, for the betterment of all. And all that will need to be planned. The sooner, the better. "Let us make for the shore and get some food, and get our bearings," said Charles. "I suggest we land on the Caucasian side," Benjamin said. "It's more likely we'll share language and culture." Josephine frowned only slightly. Ehrich agreed. "No insults intended to anyone, but with most of us being Caucasian, we're less likely to be taken as a threat. As well, I know no Asiatic language." Charles too nodded. "The west side is best." "It seems these people were sailors as well?" Jeanne asked. "I don't suppose you know any of them, Shaw?" Shaw shook his head. He scanned the shore for signs of metal or metal-working implements, but found none. The groups did seem to have the ubiquitous bamboo spears, and some bows. They hailed the people on the west bank as they approached, and were met with a guarded welcome. The pedal-cart frames were dragged into huts, and the people who met them on the bank were armed. "Greetings, strangers," said one of the men in English, stepping out from the band. "And welcome, if you come in peace, to New Detroit."