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+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" />
+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of My Shipmate&mdash;Columbus, by Stephen Wilder
+    </title>
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of My Shipmate--Columbus, by Stephen Wilder
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: My Shipmate--Columbus
+
+Author: Stephen Wilder
+
+Illustrator: Llewellyn
+
+Release Date: October 24, 2008 [EBook #27019]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY SHIPMATE--COLUMBUS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<h1><big>My<br />
+Shipmate&mdash;<br />
+Columbus</big></h1>
+
+<h2><small>By STEPHEN WILDER</small></h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i><big>We've been taught from childhood
+that the earth is round and
+that Columbus discovered America.
+But maybe we take too much
+on faith. This first crossing
+for instance. Were you there?
+Did you see Columbus land?
+Here's the story of a man who
+can give us the straight facts.</big></i></p></div>
+
+<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">The</span> laughter brought spots
+of color to his cheeks. He
+stood there for a while, taking
+it, and then decided he had
+had enough and would sit
+down. A whisper of amusement
+still stirred the room as
+he returned to his seat and
+the professor said,</p>
+
+<p>"But just a moment, Mr.
+Jones. Won't you tell the class
+what makes you think Columbus
+was not the 'bold skipper'
+the history books say he was.
+After all, Mr. Jones, this is a
+history class. If you know
+more or better history than
+the history books do, isn't it
+your duty to tell us?"</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<img src="images/001.png" width="600" height="544" alt="" title="" />
+<b><small>He clutched at his slashed veins and snarled into the face of death.</small></b></div>
+
+<p>"I didn't say he <i>wasn't</i>,"
+Danny Jones said desperately
+as the laughter started again.
+Some profs were like that, he
+thought. Picking on one student
+and making the rest of
+the class laugh and think
+what a great guy the prof was
+and what a prize dodo the
+hapless student was. "I said,"
+Danny went on doggedly,
+"Columbus might not have
+been&mdash;maybe wasn't&mdash;the
+bold skipper the history books
+claim he was. I can't prove it.
+No one can. I haven't a time
+machine."</p>
+
+<p>Again it was the wrong
+thing to say. The professor
+wagged a finger in front of
+his face and gave Danny a sly
+look. "Don't you," he said,
+"don't you indeed? I was beginning
+to think you had been
+willed H. G. Wells' famous
+literary invention, young
+man." That one had the class
+all but rolling in the aisles.</p>
+
+<p>Danny said desperately,
+"No! No, I mean, they don't
+even know for sure if Columbus
+was born in Genoa. They
+just think he was. So they also
+could be wrong about&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Abruptly the professor's
+face went serious. "My dear
+Mr. Jones," he said slowly,
+acidly, "don't you think we've
+had enough of fantasy? Don't
+you think we ought to return
+to history?"</p>
+
+<p>Danny sat down and for a
+moment shut his eyes but remained
+conscious of everyone
+looking at him, staring at
+him, evaluating. It wasn't so
+easy, he decided, being a sophomore
+transfer student from
+a big city college, where almost
+everything went and
+there was a certain amount of
+anonymity in the very size of
+the classes, to a small town
+college where every face,
+after a week or so, was familiar.
+Danny wished he had
+kept his big yap shut about
+Columbus, but it was too late
+now. They'd be ribbing him
+for weeks....</p>
+
+<p>On his way back to the
+dorm after classes he was
+hailed by a student who lived
+down the hall from him, a
+fellow named Groves, who
+said, "How's the boy, Danny.
+Next thing you'll tell us is
+that Cortez was really a sexy
+Spanish broad with a thirty-eight
+bust who conquered
+Montezuma and his Indians
+with sex appeal. Get it, boy. I
+said&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Aw, lay off," Danny grumbled.</p>
+
+<p>The other boy laughed,
+then shrugged, then said, "Oh
+yeah, forgot to tell you.
+There's a telegram waiting
+for you in the dorm. House-mother's
+got it. Well, see you,
+Vasco da Gama."</p>
+
+<p>Danny trudged on to the
+Georgian-style dormitory and
+went inside, through the lobby
+and behind the stairs to
+the house-mother's office at
+the rear of the building. She
+was a kindly-looking old
+woman with a halo of white
+hair and a smile which made
+her a good copy of everyone's
+grandmother. But now her
+face was set in unexpectedly
+grim lines. "Telegram for
+you, Danny," she said slowly.
+"They read it over the telephone
+first, then delivered it."
+She held out a yellow envelope.
+"I'm afraid it's some
+bad news, Danny." She
+seemed somehow reluctant to
+part with the little yellow envelope.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" Danny said.</p>
+
+<p>"You'd better read it yourself.
+Here, sit down."</p>
+
+<p>Danny nodded, took the envelope,
+sat down and opened
+it. He read, MR. DANNY
+JONES, WHITNEY COLLEGE,
+WHITNEY, VIRGINIA.
+REGRET TO
+INFORM YOU UNCLE
+AVERILL PASSED AWAY
+LAST NIGHT PEACEFULLY
+IN HIS SLEEP LEAVING
+UNSPECIFIED PROPERTY
+TO YOU. It was
+signed with a name Danny
+did not recognize.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm terribly sorry," the
+house-mother said, placing
+her hand on Danny's shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that's all right, Mrs.
+Grange. It's all right. You see,
+Uncle Averill wasn't a young
+man. He must have been in
+his eighties."</p>
+
+<p>"Were you very close to
+him, Danny?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, not for a long time.
+When I was a kid&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Grange smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, when I was eight or
+nine, I used to see him all the
+time. We stayed at his place
+on the coast near St. Augustine,
+Florida, for a year. I&mdash;I
+feel sorry about Uncle
+Averill, Mrs. Grange, but I
+feel better about something
+that happened in class today.
+I&mdash;I think Uncle Averill
+would have approved of how I
+acted."</p>
+
+<p>"Want to talk about it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it's just he always
+said never to take any so-called
+fact for granted, especially
+in history. I can almost
+remember his voice now, the
+way he used to say, 'if ever
+there's an argument in history,
+sonny, all you ever get
+is the propaganda report of
+the side which won.' You
+know, Mrs. Grange, I think
+he was right. Of course, a lot
+of folks thought old Uncle
+Averill was a little queer.
+Touched in the head is what
+they said."</p>
+
+<p>"They oughtn't to say such
+things."</p>
+
+<p>"Always tinkering around
+in his basement. Funny, nobody
+ever knew on what. He
+wouldn't let anybody near the
+place. He had a time lock and
+everything. What nobody
+could figure out is if he was
+trying so hard to guard something
+that was in the basement,
+why did he sometimes
+disappear for weeks on end
+without even telling anybody
+where he went. And I remember,"
+Danny went on musing,
+"every time he came back he
+went into that harangue
+about history, as if somehow
+he had confirmed his suspicions.
+He was a funny old
+guy but I liked him."</p>
+
+<p>"You remembering him so
+vividly after all these years
+will be the best epitaph your
+uncle could have, Danny. But
+what are you going to do?
+About what he left you, I
+mean."</p>
+
+<p>"Uncle Averill always liked
+promptness. If he left something
+for me, he'd want me to
+pick it up immediately. I
+guess I ought to go down
+there to St. Augustine as fast
+as I can."</p>
+
+<p>"But your classes&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll have to take an emergency
+leave of absence."</p>
+
+<p>"Under the circumstances,
+I'm sure the college will approve.
+Do you think your
+uncle left you anything&mdash;well&mdash;important?"</p>
+
+<p>"Important?" Danny repeated
+the word. "No, I don't
+think so. Not by the world's
+standards. But it must have
+been important to Uncle
+Averill. He was a&mdash;you know,
+an image-breaker&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"An iconoclast," supplied
+Mrs. Grange.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes'm, an iconoclast. But
+I liked him."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Grange nodded.
+"You'd better get over and
+see the Dean."</p>
+
+<p>An hour later, Danny was
+at the bus depot, waiting for
+the Greyhound that would
+take him over to Richmond,
+where he would meet a train
+for the south and Florida.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>It was a rambling white
+stucco house with a red tile
+roof and a pleasant grove of
+palm trees in front and flame-red
+hibiscus climbing the
+stucco. The lawyer, whose
+name was Tartalion, met him
+at the door.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll get right down to business,
+Mr. Jones," Tartalion
+said after they had entered
+the house. "Your uncle wanted
+it that way."</p>
+
+<p>"Wait a minute," Danny
+said, "don't tell me they already
+had the funeral?"</p>
+
+<p>"Your uncle didn't believe
+in funerals. His will stipulated
+cremation."</p>
+
+<p>"But, it was so&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Sudden? I know, the will
+wasn't officially probated. But
+your uncle had a judge for a
+friend, and under the circumstances,
+his wishes were
+granted. Now, then, you know
+why you're here?"</p>
+
+<p>"You mean, what he left
+me? I thought I'd at least get
+to see his&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"His body? Not your uncle,
+not old Averill Jones. You
+ought to know better. Sonny,"
+the lawyer asked abruptly,
+"how well did you know the
+old man?"</p>
+
+<p>The sonny rankled. After
+all, Danny thought, I'm nineteen.
+I like beer and girls and
+I'm no sonny anymore. He
+sighed and thought of his history
+class, then thought of
+Uncle Averill's opinion of history,
+and felt better. He explained
+the relationship to
+Mr. Tartalion and waited for
+the lawyer to speak.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it beats me," Tartalion
+admitted. "Why he left
+it to a nephew he hasn't seen
+in ten or eleven years, I mean.
+Don't just look at me like
+that. You know that contraption
+he had in the basement,
+don't you? How he wouldn't
+let a soul near it, ever? Then
+tell me something, Danny.
+Why did he leave it to you?"</p>
+
+<p>"You're joking!" Danny
+cried.</p>
+
+<p>"I was your uncle's lawyer.
+I wouldn't joke about it. He
+said it was the only thing he
+had worth willing. He said he
+willed it to you. Want me to
+read you the clause?"</p>
+
+<p>Danny nodded. He felt
+strangely flattered, because
+the contraption in Averill
+Jones' basement&mdash;a contraption
+which no one but Averill
+Jones had ever seen&mdash;had
+been the dearest thing in the
+old bachelor's life. Actually,
+he was not Danny's uncle, but
+his grand-uncle. He had lived
+alone in St. Augustine and
+had liked living alone. The
+only relative he had tolerated
+was Danny, when Danny was
+a small boy. Then, as Danny
+approached his ninth birthday,
+the old man had said,
+"They're teaching you too
+much at school, son. Too many
+wrong things, too many highfalutin'
+notions, too much just
+plain old hogwash. Why don't
+you kind of make yourself
+scarce for a few years?" It
+had been blunt and to the
+point. It had made Danny cry.
+He hadn't thought of what
+had happened that last day
+he'd seen his grand-uncle for
+years, but he thought of it
+now.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>"But why can't I come back
+and see you?" he had asked
+tearfully.</p>
+
+<p>"On account of the machine,
+son."</p>
+
+<p>"But <i>why</i>, uncle?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hey, come on now and
+stop your blubbering all over
+me. If you can't you can't."</p>
+
+<p>"You have to tell me why!"</p>
+
+<p>"Stubborn little critter.
+Well, I like that. All right,
+I'll tell you why. Because the
+machine has a funny kind of
+fuel, that's why. It doesn't
+run on gasoline, Danny, or
+anything like that."</p>
+
+<p>"What does it do, uncle?"</p>
+
+<p>But the old man had shaken
+his head. "Maybe someday
+after I'm gone you'll find out.
+If anyone finds out, it will be
+you, and that's a promise."</p>
+
+<p>"You still didn't tell me
+why I have to go away."</p>
+
+<p>"Because&mdash;well, don't go
+telling this to your folks, son,
+or they'll think old Uncle
+Averill has a screw loose
+somewheres&mdash;because that
+machine I have downstairs
+runs on faith. On faith, you
+understand? Oh, not the kind
+of faith they think is important
+and do a lot of talking
+and sermoning about, but a
+different kind of faith. Personal
+faith, you might say.
+Faith in a dream or a belief,
+no matter what people think.
+And&mdash;you know what ruins
+that faith?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," Danny had said, his
+eyes very big.</p>
+
+<p>"Knowledge!" cried his
+uncle. "Too much so-called
+knowledge which isn't knowledge
+at all, but hearsay.
+That's what they're teaching
+you. In school, other places,
+every day of your life. I'll tell
+you when you can come back,
+Danny: when you're ready to
+throw most of it overboard.
+All right?"</p>
+
+<p>He had had to say all right.
+It was the last time he had
+ever seen his uncle, but those
+weren't the last words Averill
+Jones had spoken to him, for
+the old man had added as he
+got up to go: "Don't forget,
+son. Don't let them pull the
+wool over your eyes. History
+is propaganda&mdash;from a winner's
+point of view. If a side
+lost the war and got stamped
+on, you never see the war
+from its point of view. If an
+idea got out of favor and
+stamped on, the idea is ridiculed.
+Don't forget it, son. If
+you believe something, if you
+<i>know</i> it's right, have faith in
+it and don't give a mind what
+people say. Promise?"</p>
+
+<p>Danny, his eyes stinging
+with tears because somehow
+he could sense he would
+never see Uncle Averill again,
+had said that he promised.</p>
+
+<p>"... to my nephew, Danny
+Jones," the lawyer was reading.
+"So, you see, you'll have
+to go right down there and
+look the thing over. Naturally,
+I'll have to leave the house
+while you do so and I won't
+be able to return until you
+tell me I can&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"But why?"</p>
+
+<p>"Weren't you listening?"</p>
+
+<p>"I guess I was thinking
+about my uncle."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, the clause says
+you're to examine the machine
+alone, with no one else
+in the house. It's perfectly legal.
+If that's what your uncle
+wanted, that's what he'll get.
+Are you all set?"</p>
+
+<p>Danny nodded and Tartalion
+shook his hand solemnly,
+then left the room. Danny
+heard the lawyer's footsteps
+receding, heard the front door
+open and close, heard a car
+engine start. Then, slowly, he
+walked through the living
+room of his dead uncle's
+house and across the long,
+narrow kitchen and to the
+basement stairs. His hands
+were very dry and he felt his
+heart thudding. He was nervous,
+which surprised him.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>But why? he thought, why
+should it surprise me? All my
+life, Uncle Averill's basement
+has been a mystery. Let's face
+it, Danny-boy, you haven't
+exactly had an adventurous
+life. Maybe Uncle Averill was
+the biggest adventure in it,
+with his secret machine and
+strange disappearances. And
+maybe Uncle Averill did a
+good selling job when you
+were small, because that machine
+means mystery to you.
+It's probably not much more
+than a better mousetrap, but
+you want to believe it is, don't
+you? And you're nervous because
+the way Uncle Averill
+kept you and anyone else
+away from his basement
+when you were a kid makes
+it a kind of frightening place,
+even now.</p>
+
+<p>He opened the basement
+door with a key which the
+lawyer had given him. Beyond
+the door were five steps
+and another door&mdash;this one of
+metal. It had had a time lock
+in the old days, Danny remembered,
+but the lock was
+gone now. The metal door
+swung ponderously, like the
+door to a bank vault, and then
+Danny was on the other side.
+It was dark down there, but
+faint light seeped in through
+small high windows and in a
+few moments Danny's eyes
+grew accustomed to the
+gloom.</p>
+
+<p>The basement was empty
+except for what looked like a
+big old steamer trunk in the
+center of the dusty cement
+floor.</p>
+
+<p>Danny was disappointed.
+He had childhood visions of
+an intricate maze of machinery
+cluttering up every available
+square foot of basement
+space, but now he knew that
+whatever it was which had
+taken up so much of Uncle
+Averill's time could fit in the
+odd-looking steamer trunk in
+the center of the floor and
+thus wasn't too much bigger
+than a good-size TV set. He
+walked slowly to the trunk
+and stood for a few moments
+over the lid. It was an ancient-looking
+steamer: Uncle
+Averill must have owned it
+since his own youth. Still,
+just a plain trunk.</p>
+
+<p>Danny was in no hurry to
+open the lid, which did not
+seem to be locked. For a few
+moments, at least, he could
+shield himself from further
+disappointment&mdash;because
+now he had a hunch that
+Uncle Averill's machine was
+going to be a first-class dud.
+Maybe, he thought gloomily,
+Uncle Averill had simply not
+liked to be with people and
+had used the ruse of a bank-vault
+door and an empty
+steamer trunk to achieve privacy
+whenever he felt the
+need for it.</p>
+
+<p>Remembering the history
+class, Danny decided that&mdash;after
+all&mdash;sometimes that
+wasn't a bad idea. Finally, he
+called himself a fool for waiting
+and threw up the trunk-lid.</p>
+
+<p>A small case was all he saw
+inside, although the interior
+of the trunk was larger than
+he had expected. A man could
+probably curl up in there
+quite comfortably. But the
+case&mdash;the case looked exactly
+like it ought to house a tape-recorder.</p>
+
+<p>Danny reached in and hauled
+out the case. It was heavy,
+about as heavy as a tape-recorder
+ought to be. Danny
+placed it down on the floor
+and opened it.</p>
+
+<p>What he saw was a battery-powered
+tape-recorder. His
+disappointment increased:
+Uncle Averill had left a message
+for him, that was all.
+Dutifully, however, he set the
+spools and snapped on the
+switch.</p>
+
+<p>A voice from yesterday&mdash;Uncle
+Averill's voice&mdash;spoke
+to him.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>"Hallo, Danny," it said.
+"The way the years roll by, I
+forget exactly how old you
+are, boy. Seventeen? Eighteen?
+Twenty? Well, it doesn't
+matter&mdash;if you still believe.
+If you have faith. Faith in
+what? Maybe now you're old
+enough to know. I mean faith
+in&mdash;not having faith. That is,
+faith in not taking faithfully
+all the silly items of knowledge
+they try to cram down
+your throat in school. See
+what I mean? Remember
+what I always said about history,
+Danny: you get propaganda,
+is all, from the
+winning side. If you got faith
+enough in yourself, Danny,
+faith enough not to believe
+everything the history books
+tell you, that's the kind of
+faith I mean. Because such a
+faith gave me the most interesting
+life a man ever lived,
+make no mistake about that.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm dead, Danny. Yep, old
+Uncle Averill is dead. Because
+this tape-recorder won't be
+left you in my will until I am
+dead. But, no regrets, boy. I
+had a great life. How great&mdash;nobody
+knows. Only you,
+you're about to find out. Do
+you believe? Do you believe
+the way I have in mind?
+Make no mistake about it
+now, son. If you don't believe,
+you might as well burn these
+spools and go home."</p>
+
+<p>Danny considered. He remembered
+what had happened
+in his history class.
+Wasn't that the sort of faith
+Uncle Averill had in mind?
+Faith not to believe in historical
+fairy tales? Faith to
+doubt when one ought to
+doubt? Faith to be skeptical....</p>
+
+<p>"Good," said the voice from
+the past. "Then you're still
+here. Look in front of you,
+Danny-boy. The trunk. The
+old steamer. Know what it
+is?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," Danny said, then
+clamped a hand over his
+mouth. For a moment he had
+actually believed he was talking
+to the dead man.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a time machine," said
+his Uncle's voice.</p>
+
+<p>There was a silence. The
+tape went on winding. For a
+moment, Danny thought that
+was all. Then the voice continued:
+"No, your old grand-uncle
+isn't nuts, Danny. It's
+a time machine. I know it's a
+time machine because I used
+it all my life. You expected
+some kind of complicated gadget
+down here, I know. I made
+everybody think it was a gadget.
+Going down to your basement
+and tinkering with a
+gadget is fine in our culture.
+Hell's fire, boy, it's approved
+behavior. But locking a bank-vault
+door behind you and
+curling up in a steamer trunk,
+that isn't approved. Now, is
+it?</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell you about this here
+time machine, sonny. It isn't
+a machine at all, in the strict
+sense of the word. You can
+see that. It's just&mdash;well, an
+empty box. But it works, and
+what else ought a fellow to
+care about.</p>
+
+<p>"Funny how I got it. I was
+eighteen or twenty, maybe.
+And my Grand-uncle Daniel
+gave it to me. Daniel, get me.
+Daniel to Averill to Daniel. So
+when you have a grand-nephew,
+see that his name's
+Averill, understand? Keep it
+going, Danny. Because this
+trunk is old. A lot older than
+you think.</p>
+
+<p>"And you can travel
+through time in it. Don't look
+at me like that, I know what
+you're thinking. There isn't
+any such thing as time travel.
+In the strict sense of the
+word, it's impossible. You
+can't resurrect the past or
+peek into the unborn future.
+Well, I don't know about the
+future, but I do know about
+the past. But you got to have
+faith, you got to be a kid at
+heart, Danny. You got to have
+this dream, see?</p>
+
+<p>"Because you don't travel
+anywhere. But your mind
+does, and it's like you wake
+up in somebody else's body,
+drawn to him like a magnet,
+somebody else&mdash;some<i>when</i>
+else. Your body stays right
+here, you see. In the trunk. In
+what they called suspended
+animation. But you&mdash;the real
+you, the you that knows how
+to dream and to believe&mdash;you
+go back.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't make the mistake I
+made at first. It's no dream in
+the usual sense of the word.
+It's real, Danny. You're somebody
+else back there, all right,
+but if he gets hurt, you get
+hurt. If he dies&mdash;taps for
+Danny Jones! You get me?"</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>The dead man's voice
+chuckled. "But don't think
+this means automatically
+you'll be able to travel
+through time. Because you got
+to have the proper attitude.
+You've got to believe in yourself,
+and not in all the historical
+fictions they give you.
+Now do you understand? If
+you're skeptical enough and if
+at the same time you like to
+dream enough&mdash;that's all it
+takes. Want to try it?"</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the voice was
+gone. That was all there was
+and at first Danny could not
+believe it. A sense of bitter
+disappointment enveloped
+him&mdash;not because
+Uncle Averill had left him
+nothing but an old steamer
+trunk but because Uncle
+Averill had been, to say the
+least, off his rocker.</p>
+
+<p>The fabulous machine in
+the basement was&mdash;nothing.</p>
+
+<p>Just a steamer trunk and
+an incredible story about
+time-traveling.</p>
+
+<p>Danny sighed and began to
+walk back toward the cellar
+stairs. He paused. He turned
+around uncertainly and looked
+at the trunk. After all, he
+had promised; at least he'd
+promised himself that he'd
+carry out his peculiar uncle's
+wishes. Besides, he'd come all
+the way down here from
+Whitney College and he ought
+to at least try the machine.</p>
+
+<p>But there wasn't any machine.</p>
+
+<p>Try the trunk then? There
+was nothing to try except
+curling up in it and maybe
+closing the lid. Uncle Averill
+was a practical joker, too. It
+might be just like Uncle
+Averill to have the lid snap
+shut and lock automatically so
+Danny would have to pound
+his knuckles black and blue
+until the lawyer heard and
+came for him.</p>
+
+<p>You see, sonny? would be
+Uncle Averill's point. You believed
+me, and you should
+have known better.</p>
+
+<p>Danny cursed himself and
+returned to the trunk. He
+gazed down at the yawning
+interior for a few seconds,
+then put first one foot, then
+the other over the side. He sat
+down and stared at a peeling
+blue-paper liner. He rolled
+over and curled up. The bottom
+of the trunk was a good
+fit. He reached up and found
+a rope dangling down toward
+him. He pulled the lid down,
+smiling at his own credulity,
+and was engulfed in total
+darkness.</p>
+
+<p>But it would be wonderful,
+he found himself thinking. It
+would be the most wonderful
+thing in the world, to be able
+to travel through time and see
+for yourself what really had
+happened in all the world's
+colorful ages and to take part
+in the wildest, proudest adventures
+of mankind.</p>
+
+<p>He thought, I want to believe.
+It would be so wonderful
+to believe.</p>
+
+<p>He also thought about his
+history class. He did not know
+it, but his history class was
+very important. It was crucial.
+Everything depended on
+his history class. Because he
+doubted. He did not want to
+take Columbus' bravery and
+intelligence for granted.
+There were no surviving documents,
+so why should he?</p>
+
+<p>Maybe Columbus was a
+third-rater!</p>
+
+<p>Maybe&mdash;at least you didn't
+have to worship him as a hero
+just because he happened to
+discover ...</p>
+
+<p>Now, what did he discover?</p>
+
+<p>In absolute darkness and a
+ringing in the ears and far
+away a dim glowing light and
+larger and brighter and the
+whirling whirling spinning
+flashing I don't believe but
+strangely somehow I have
+faith, faith in myself, buzzing,
+humming, glowing ...</p>
+
+<p>The world exploded.</p>
+
+<p>There was a great deal of
+laughter in the tavern.</p>
+
+<p>At first he thought the
+laughter was directed at him.
+Giddily, he raised his head.
+He saw raw wood rafters, a
+leaded glass window, a
+stained and greasy wall,
+heavy wood-plank tables with
+heavy chairs and a barbarous-looking
+crew drinking from
+heavy clay mugs. One of the
+mugs was in front of him and
+he raised it to his lips without
+thinking.</p>
+
+<p>It was ale, the strongest ale
+he had ever tasted. He got it
+down somehow without gagging.
+The laughter came
+again, rolling over him like a
+wave. A serving girl scurried
+by, skirts flashing, a rough
+tray of clay mugs balanced
+expertly on one hand. A man
+with a sword dangling at his
+side staggered to his feet
+drunkenly and clawed at the
+girl, but she shoved him back
+into his seat and kept walking.</p>
+
+<p>The third wave of laughter
+rolled and then there was a
+brief silence.</p>
+
+<p>"Drink too much, Martin
+Pinzon?" Danny's companion
+at the long board-table asked.
+He was an evil-looking old
+man with a patch over one eye
+and a small white spade-shaped
+beard and unshaven
+cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>"Not me," Danny said,
+amazed because the language
+was unfamiliar to him yet he
+could both understand and
+speak it. "What's so funny?"
+he asked. "Why's everyone
+laughing?"</p>
+
+<p>The old man's hand slapped
+his back and the mouth parted
+to show ugly blackened teeth
+and the old man laughed so
+hard spittle spotted his beard.
+"As if you didn't know," he
+managed to say. "As if you
+didn't know, Martin Pinzon.
+It's that weak-minded sailor
+again, the one who claims to
+have a charter for three
+caravels from the Queen herself.
+Drunk as Bacchus and
+there's his pretty little daughter
+trying to get him to come
+home again. I tell you, Martin
+Pinzon, if he isn't ..."</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>But now Danny wasn't listening.
+He looked around the
+tavern until he saw the butt
+of all the laughter. Slowly,
+drawn irresistibly, Martin
+Pinzon&mdash;or Danny Jones&mdash;got
+up and walked over there.</p>
+
+<p>The man was drunk as Bacchus,
+all right. He was a man
+perhaps somewhat taller than
+average. He had a large head
+with an arrogant beak of a
+nose dominating the face, but
+the mouth was weak and irresolute.
+He stared drunkenly
+at a beautiful girl who could
+not have been more than seventeen.</p>
+
+<p>The girl was saying,
+"Please, papa. Come back to
+the hotel with me. Papa, don't
+you realize you're sailing tomorrow?"</p>
+
+<p>"Gowananlemebe," the man
+mumbled.</p>
+
+<p>"Papa. Please. The Queen's
+charter&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I was drunk when I took
+it and drunk when I examined
+those three stinking caravels
+and&mdash;" he leaned forward as
+if to speak in deepest confidence,
+but his drunken voice
+was still very loud&mdash;"and
+drunk when I said the world
+was round. I&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"You hear that?" someone
+cried. "Old Chris was drunk
+when he said the world was
+round!"</p>
+
+<p>"He must a' been!" someone
+else shouted. Everyone
+laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"Come on, papa," the girl
+pleaded. She wore a shawl
+over her dress and another
+shawl on her head. Her blonde
+hair barely peeked out, and
+she was beautiful. She tried
+to drag her father to his feet
+by one arm, but he was too
+heavy for her.</p>
+
+<p>She looked around the room
+defiantly as the laughter
+surged again. "Brave men!"
+she mocked. "A bunch of stay-at-homes.
+Won't somebody
+help me? Papa sails tomorrow."</p>
+
+<p>"Papa sails tomorrow,"
+said someone, miming her
+desperate tones. "Didn't you
+know that papa sails tomorrow?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not sailing anyplace at
+all," the father mumbled.
+"World isn't round. Drunk.
+Think I want to fall over the
+edge? Think I&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, papa," moaned the
+girl. "Won't someone help me
+to&mdash;" And she tugged again
+at the man's arm&mdash;"to get
+him to bed."</p>
+
+<p>A big man nearby boomed,
+"I'll help you t'bed, me lass,
+but it won't be with your old
+father. Eh, mates?" he cried,
+and the tavern echoed with
+laughter. The big man got up
+and went over to the girl.
+"Now, listen, lass," he said,
+taking hold of her arm. "Why
+don't you forget this drunken
+slob of a father and&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Crack! Her hand blurred at
+his cheek, struck it like a pistol
+shot. The big man blinked
+his eyes and grinned. "So you
+have spirit, do you? Well, it's
+more than I can say for that
+father of yours, too yellow
+and too drunk to carry out
+the Queen of Castile's bid&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>The hand flashed out again
+but this time the big man
+caught it in one of his own
+and twisted sideways against
+the girl, forcing her back
+against the table's edge. "I
+like my girls to struggle," he
+said, and the girl's face went
+white as she suddenly let herself
+go limp in his arms.</p>
+
+<p>The man grinned. "Oh I
+like 'em limp, me lass. When
+they're pretty as a rose, like
+you, who's to care?"</p>
+
+<p>"Papa!" the girl screamed.
+The big man's face hovered
+over hers, blotting out the oil-lamp
+lights, the thick lips all
+but slavering....</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>"Just a minute, man!" Danny cried,
+striding boldly to
+them. Hardly pausing in his
+efforts to kiss the again struggling
+girl, the big man swatted
+back with one enormous
+arm and sent Danny reeling.
+Whoever he was, he was a
+popular figure. The laughter
+was still louder now. Everyone
+was having a great time,
+at Danny's expense now.</p>
+
+<p>Danny crashed into a chair,
+upending it. A bowl of soup
+came crashing down, the
+heavy bowl splintering, the
+hot contents scalding him. He
+stood up and heard the girl
+scream. Instinctively, he
+grasped two legs of the heavy
+chair and hefted it. Then he
+sprinted back across the
+room.</p>
+
+<p>"Behind you, Pietro!" a
+voice cried, and at the last
+moment the big man whirled
+and faced Danny, then lunged
+to one side, taking the girl
+with him.</p>
+
+<p>Danny couldn't check his
+arms, which had carried the
+heavy chair overhead. It came
+down with a crash against the
+edge of the big plank table.
+The chair shattered in Danny's
+arms. One leg flew up
+and struck the big man in the
+face, though, bringing blood
+just below the cheek bone. He
+bellowed in surprise and pain
+and came lumbering toward
+Danny.</p>
+
+<p>Danny was aware of the
+girl cowering to one side,
+aware that another of the
+chair's legs was still grasped
+in his right hand. He was but
+a boy, he found himself thinking
+quickly, desperate. If the
+giant grabbed him, grabbed
+him just once, the fight would
+be over. The man was twice
+his size, twice his weight. Yet
+he had to do something to
+help the girl....</p>
+
+<p>The giant came at him. The
+big arms lifted over the
+heavy, brutal face.... And
+Danny drove under them with
+the chair-leg, jabbing the tip
+of it against the man's enormous
+middle. Pietro&mdash;for
+such was the man's name&mdash;sagged
+a few inches, the
+breath rushing, heavy with
+garlic, from his mouth. But
+still, he got his great hands
+about Danny's throat and began
+to squeeze.</p>
+
+<p>Danny saw the wood rafters,
+the window, a bargirl
+standing, mouth open, watching
+them, the drunken man
+and his daughter, then a blurry,
+watery confusion as his
+eyes went dim. He was conscious
+of swinging the club,
+of striking something, of extending
+the club out as far as
+it would go and then slamming
+it back toward himself,
+striking something which he
+hoped was Pietro's head. He
+felt his mouth going slack and
+wondered if his tongue were
+hanging out. Exerting all his
+strength he struck numbly,
+mechanically, desperately
+with the chair-leg.</p>
+
+<p>And slowly, the constriction
+left his throat. Something
+struck against his middle,
+almost knocking him
+down. Something pushed
+against his legs, backing him
+against the table. He looked
+down. His eyes were watery,
+his throat burning. The giant
+Pietro lay, breathing stertorously,
+at his feet.</p>
+
+<p>A small hand grabbed his.
+"Father will come now," a
+voice said. "I don't&mdash;don't
+even know who you are, but I
+want to thank you. I thank
+you for myself and the Queen,
+and God, senor. You better
+come quickly, with us. Does it
+hurt much?"</p>
+
+<p>Danny tried to talk. His
+voice rasped in his throat.
+The girl squeezed his hand
+and together with her and the
+drunken man who was her
+father, he left the tavern. The
+giant Pietro was just getting
+up and shaking his fist at
+them slowly....</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>It was a small top-floor
+room in an old waterfront
+building in the Spanish port
+of Palos. Or, Danny corrected
+himself, the Castillian port of
+Palos. Because, in this year of
+our Lord 1492, Spain had
+barely become a unified
+country.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you feeling better,
+Martin Pinzon?" the beautiful
+girl asked him.</p>
+
+<p>He had given the name he
+had heard, Martin Pinzon, as
+his own. The room was very
+hot. The August night outside
+was hot too and sultry and
+starless. The girl's father was
+resting now, breathing unevenly.
+The girl's name was
+Nina. One of the small caravels
+in her father's three-ship
+fleet was named after her.
+Her full name was Nina
+Columbus.</p>
+
+<p>Nina brought another wet
+cloth and covered Danny's
+swollen throat with it. "Does
+it hurt much?" she said, and,
+for the tenth time, "we have
+no money to thank you with,
+senor."</p>
+
+<p>"Any man would have&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"But you were the only one.
+The only&mdash;never mind. Martin,
+listen. I have no right to
+trouble you, but ... it's
+father. Tomorrow is the second
+day of August, you see,
+and it is all over Palos that
+tomorrow he sails with the
+Queen's charter...."</p>
+
+<p>"Then if you're worrying
+about that big man, Pietro,
+you can forget it. If you're
+sailing, I mean."</p>
+
+<p>"That's just it," Nina said
+desperately. "Father doesn't
+want to sail. Martin, tell me,
+do you believe the world is
+round?"</p>
+
+<p>Danny nodded very soberly.
+"Yes, Nina," he told her softly.
+"The world is round. I believe it."</p>
+
+<p>"My father doesn't! Funny,
+isn't it, Martin?" she said in
+a voice which told him she
+did not think it was funny at
+all. "All Spain&mdash;and Genoa
+too&mdash;think that tomorrow
+morning my father, Christopher
+Columbus, will journey
+to the unexplored west confident
+that he will arrive, after
+a long voyage, in the East&mdash;when
+really my father, this
+same Christopher Columbus,
+lies here in a drunken stupor
+because he lacks the courage
+to face his convictions and ...
+oh, Martin!" Her voice broke,
+her pretty face crumpled. She
+sobbed into her hands. Gently,
+Danny stroked her back.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>"There now, take it easy,"
+he said. "Your father will
+sail. I know he'll sail. Do you
+believe the world to be round,
+little Nina?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Oh yes, yes, yes!"</p>
+
+<p>"He will sail. He will prove
+it and be famous. I know he
+will."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Martin. You sound so
+sure of yourself. I wish I
+could ..."</p>
+
+<p>"Nina, listen. Your father
+will sail."</p>
+
+<p>"You'll help us you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. All right, I'll help
+you. Now, get some sleep if
+you want to wake up and say
+goodbye to him in the morning.
+Because I'll be getting
+him up before the sun to&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Are you a sailing man
+too? Are you going with
+him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well ..."</p>
+
+<p>"Wait! Martin, I remember
+you now. Martin Pinzon.
+At the meeting of the organization
+to prove the Earth's
+round shape. You! You were
+there. And once, once when he
+was not drunk, father said
+that a Don Pinzon would command
+one of our three ships,
+the Nina it was, the caravel
+which bears my name. Are
+you this Don Pinzon?"</p>
+
+<p>Slowly, Danny nodded. He
+remembered his history now.
+The Nina <i>had</i> been commanded
+by one Don Pinzon, Don
+Martin Pinzon! And he was
+now this Martin Pinzon, he,
+Danny Jones. Which meant he
+was going with Columbus to
+discover a new world! A nineteen-year-old American youth
+going to witness the single
+most important event in
+American history....</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," Danny said slowly,
+"I am Don Pinzon."</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;but you're so
+young!"</p>
+
+<p>Danny shrugged. "I have
+seen more of the world than
+you would believe, Nina."</p>
+
+<p>"The Western Sea? You
+have been out on the Western
+Sea, as far as the Canary Islands,
+perhaps?" she asked in
+an awed voice.</p>
+
+<p>"I know the Western Sea,"
+he said. "Trust me."</p>
+
+<p>She came very close. She
+looked long in his eyes. "I
+trust you, Martin. Oh yes, I
+trust you. Listen, Martin. I'm
+going. I'm going with you. I
+have to go with you."</p>
+
+<p>"But a girl&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"He is my father. I love
+him, Martin. He needs me.
+Martin, don't try to stop me.
+I want you to help me aboard,
+to see that he ... oh, Martin,
+you'll have so much to do. Because
+the rest of our crew&mdash;some
+of them being hired
+even now by the three caravel
+pursers&mdash;will be a crew of
+cut-throats and ne'er-do-wells
+embarking into the unknown
+because they have utterly
+nothing to lose. Father needs
+you because the others won't
+care."</p>
+
+<p>"The three caravels will
+sail west," Danny told her.
+"Believe me, they'll sail west.
+Now, get some sleep."</p>
+
+<p>Her face was still very
+close. Her eyes filled with
+tears, but they were not tears
+of sadness. She took his
+cheeks in her hands and
+kissed him softly on the lips.
+She smiled at him, her own
+lips trembling.</p>
+
+<p>"Martin," she said.</p>
+
+<p>His arms moved. They went
+around her, drew the softness
+of her close. She murmured
+something, but he did not
+hear it. His lips found hers a
+second time, fiercely. His
+hands her shoulder, her
+throat, her ...</p>
+
+<p>"Flat," Columbus mumbled.
+"Flat. Abs'lutely flat. The
+Earth is&mdash;flat as a pancake...."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Martin!" Nina cried.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>It was raining in the morning.
+A hard, driving rain,
+pelting down on the seaport
+of Palos. The three caravels
+floated side by side in the little
+harbor and a large, derisive
+crowd had gathered. The
+crowd erupted into noisy
+laughter when Columbus and
+his little party appeared on
+foot.</p>
+
+<p>"I need a drink," Columbus
+whispered. "I can't go
+through with it."</p>
+
+<p>"Father," Nina said.
+"We're with you. I'm here.
+Martin is here."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't go&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"You've got to go through
+with it! For yourself and for
+the world. Now, stand
+straight, father. They're looking
+at you. They're all looking
+at you."</p>
+
+<p>Columbus, thought Danny.
+The intrepid voyager who had
+discovered a new world! He
+smiled grimly. Columbus, the
+history books should have
+said, the drunken sot who
+didn't even have the courage
+to face his own convictions.</p>
+
+<p>They walked ahead through
+the ridiculing crowd. Danny's
+throat was still sore. He was
+not frightened, though. He
+possibly was the only man in
+the crew who was not frightened.
+The others didn't care
+what their destination was,
+true: but they wanted to
+reach it alive. Danny knew
+the journey would end in success.
+The end of the journey
+meant nothing to him. It was
+written in history. It was ...</p>
+
+<p>Unless, he suddenly found
+himself thinking, I came back
+here to write it. He grinned at
+his own bravado. What would
+they have said in freshman
+psych&mdash;that was practically
+paranoid thinking. As if
+Danny Jones, Whitney College,
+Virginia, U.S.A., could
+have anything to do with the
+success or failure of Columbus'
+journey.</p>
+
+<p>They reached the small
+skiff that would take them
+out to the tiny fleet of caravels.
+The crowd hooted and
+jeered.</p>
+
+<p>"... going to drop off the
+edge of the world, Columbus."</p>
+
+<p>"If the monsters don't get
+you first."</p>
+
+<p>"Or the storms and whirlpools."</p>
+
+<p>Columbus gripped Nina's
+hand. Martin-Danny took his
+other arm firmly and steered
+him toward the prow of the
+skiff. "Easy now, skipper,"
+Danny said.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"There's wine on the Santa
+Maria," Danny whispered.
+"Much wine&mdash;to make you
+forget. Come on!"</p>
+
+<p>"And I'm going, father,"
+Nina said. "Whether you go
+or not."</p>
+
+<p>"You!" Columbus gasped.
+"A girl. You, going&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"With Martin Pinzon. If&mdash;if
+my own father can't look
+after me, then Martin can."</p>
+
+<p>"But you&mdash;" Danny began.</p>
+
+<p>"Be quiet, please," she
+whispered as Columbus
+climbed stiffly into the skiff.
+"It may be the only way, Martin.
+He&mdash;he loves me. I guess
+I'm the only thing he cares
+about. If he knows I'm going."</p>
+
+<p>"To the Santa Maria!" Columbus
+told the rowers as
+Danny and Nina got into the
+skiff.</p>
+
+<p>"To the New World!" cried
+Danny melodramatically.</p>
+
+<p>"What did you say?" Nina
+asked him.</p>
+
+<p>His face colored. "I mean,
+to the Indies! To the Indies!"</p>
+
+<p>The skiff bobbed out across
+the harbor toward the three
+waiting caravels. Departure
+time had arrived.</p>
+
+<p>Two hours later, they were
+underway.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>The sea was calm as glass,
+green as emerald. The three
+caravels, after a journey of
+several days, had reached the
+Canary Islands where additional
+provisions and fresh
+water were to be had.</p>
+
+<p>"This," said Columbus,
+waving his arms to take in
+the chain of islands. "This is
+as far as a mere man has a
+right to go. There is nothing
+further, can't you see? Can't
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>He was sober. Danny had
+come over in a skiff from the
+Nina to see that he remained
+sober at least for the loading
+and the departure. It was as
+if he, Danny, was going to
+preserve Columbus' name for
+history&mdash;single-handed if
+necessary.</p>
+
+<p>"We will not go on," Columbus
+said. "We're going back.
+The only way to the Indies is
+around the Cape of Storms,
+around Africa. I tell you&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"That's enough, father,"
+Nina said. "We ..."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm in command here,"
+Columbus told them. It surprised
+Danny. Usually, the
+drunken sailor was not so
+self-assertive. Then it occurred
+to Danny that it wasn't merely
+self-assertiveness: it was
+fear.</p>
+
+<p>Danny called over the mate,
+a one-legged man named
+Juan, who walked with a
+jaunty stride despite his peg
+leg. "You take orders from
+Columbus?" Danny said.
+"Would you take orders from
+me?"</p>
+
+<p>Juan shook his head, smiling.
+"You command aboard
+the Nina only, Martin Pinzon.
+I heard what the Captain
+said. If he wants to go back
+and give up this fool scheme,
+it's all right with me. And you
+know the rest of the crew will
+say the same."</p>
+
+<p>Nina looked at Danny hopelessly.
+She said, "Then, then
+it's no use?"</p>
+
+<p>Danny whispered fiercely,
+"Your father loves you very
+much?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"And doesn't want to see
+anything happen to you?"</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"And believes the world is
+flat and if you sail far enough
+west you'll fall off?"</p>
+
+<p>"But I&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Then you're coming with
+me aboard the Nina!"</p>
+
+<p>Columbus gasped, "What
+did you say?"</p>
+
+<p>"She's coming with me, on
+the Nina. If you don't want to
+find the western route to the
+Indies, we will. Right, Nina?"
+he said, taking her hand and
+moving to where the rope-ladder
+dangled over the side
+of the Santa Maria to the
+skiff below.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't take her from this
+deck," Columbus ordered.</p>
+
+<p>Danny ignored him. "Don
+Juan!" cried Columbus, and
+the peg-leg came toward
+Danny.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sorry, Don Martin,"
+he said, "but&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Still holding Nina's hand,
+Martin stiff-armed him out of
+the way and ran for the side.
+Someone jerked the rope-ladder
+out of reach and someone
+else leaped on Martin. For, he
+was Martin now, Martin Pinzon.
+His own identity seemed
+submerged far below the surface,
+as if somehow he could
+look on all this without risking
+anything. He knew that
+he was merely a defense
+mechanism, to ward off fear:
+for, it wasn't true. If Martin
+Pinzon were hurt, <i>he</i> would be
+hurt.</p>
+
+<p>He hurled the man from his
+back. Nina screamed as a cutlass
+flashed in the sun. Martin-Danny
+ducked, felt the
+blade whizz by overhead.</p>
+
+<p>"Jump!" Martin-Danny
+cried.</p>
+
+<p>"But I can't swim!"</p>
+
+<p>"I can. I'll save you." It was
+Danny again, completely
+Danny. He felt himself arise
+to the surface, submerging
+Martin Pinzon. Because the
+Spaniard probably couldn't
+swim at all, and if Danny
+made promises, it was Danny
+who must fulfill them.</p>
+
+<p>He squeezed Nina's hand.
+He went up on the side&mdash;and
+over. The water seemed a
+very long way down. They hit
+it finally with a great splash.</p>
+
+<p>Down they went and down,
+into the warm murky green
+depths. Down&mdash;and finally
+up. Danny's head broke surface.
+He was only yards from
+the skiff. He had never let go
+of Nina's hand, but now he
+did, getting a lifeguard's hold
+on her. He struck out for the
+skiff.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>Fifteen minutes later, they
+were aboard the Nina. "I
+command here," Danny told
+the crew. "Is that correct?"</p>
+
+<p>"Aye, sir," said Don Hernan,
+the mate.</p>
+
+<p>"Even if Columbus tells you
+different?"</p>
+
+<p>"Columbus?" spat Don
+Hernan. "That drunkard is in
+command of the Santa Maria,
+not the Nina. We follow Martin
+Pinzon here."</p>
+
+<p>"Even if I give one set of
+orders and Columbus another?"</p>
+
+<p>"Even then, my commander.
+Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Then we're sailing west,"
+Danny cried. "Up anchor!
+Hurry."</p>
+
+<p>"But I&mdash;" Nina began.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you see? He thinks
+I'm abducting you. Or he
+thinks I'm sailing west with
+you to certain death. He will
+follow with the Santa Maria
+and the Pinta, trying to rescue
+you. And we'll reach the
+Indies. Columbus will sail
+across the Western Sea to
+save his daughter, but what's
+the difference <i>why</i> he'll sail.
+The important thing is, Queen
+Isabella gave him the charter
+and the caravels and with
+them he's making history.
+You see?"</p>
+
+<p>"I ... I think so," Nina said
+doubtfully.</p>
+
+<p>A heady wind sprang up.
+The square-rigged sails billowed.
+The Nina began to
+surge forward&mdash;into the unknown
+West.</p>
+
+<p>Tackle creaked aboard the
+nearby Santa Maria and Pinta.
+The two other caravels
+came in pursuit. But they
+won't catch us, Martin knew.
+They won't catch us until we
+reach&mdash;Hispaniola. And then,
+pursuit will be no more. Then,
+it will no longer matter and
+we'll all be heroes....</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>Which is the way it turned
+out&mdash;almost.</p>
+
+<p>The Santa Maria and Pinta
+pursued all through August
+and September and into October,
+but the Nina kept its
+slim lead. The ships were
+never out of sight of one another
+and once or twice Columbus
+even hailed them, imploring
+them to return to
+Spain with him. When they
+ignored him, his deep voice
+boomed to his own crew and
+the crew of the Pinta: "Then
+sail on, sail on!" It was these
+words, Danny knew, that history
+would record. Not the
+others.</p>
+
+<p>One morning in October, he
+awoke with a start. Something
+had disturbed his sleep&mdash;something ...</p>
+
+<p>"Good morning, captain," a
+voice said.</p>
+
+<p>He looked up. It was a giant
+of a man, with a hard
+face and brutal-looking eyes.
+He knew that face. Pietro!
+The giant of the tavern.</p>
+
+<p>"But you&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I was aboard all the time,
+my captain," Pietro said. "An
+auxiliary rower. You never
+knew." He said nothing else.
+He lunged at Martin's bunk&mdash;for
+I'm Martin again, Danny
+thought&mdash;a knife gleaming in
+his big hand.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>Martin-Danny sat up,
+bringing the covers with him,
+hurling them like a cloak at
+Pietro. The giant's knife-hand
+caught in the covers and
+Danny swung to his feet,
+shoving the big man. Pietro
+stumbled into the bunk, then
+lashed around quickly, unexpectedly,
+the knife loose
+again. Danny felt it grating
+across his ribs hotly, searingly.
+He staggered and almost
+fell, but somehow made it to
+the door and on deck. He
+needed room. Facing that
+knife in the close confines of
+the cabin, he was a dead man
+and knew it.</p>
+
+<p>He hit the stairs and headed
+for the deck. He reached
+the door&mdash;tugged. It held
+fast. He heard Pietro's laughter,
+then threw himself to one
+side. The knife thudded into
+the wood alongside Danny's
+shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>Then the door came open,
+throwing him back. He stumbled,
+regained his balance,
+plunged outside. With a roar,
+Pietro followed him, knife
+again in hand.</p>
+
+<p>Danny backed away slowly.
+Only a few crew members
+were on deck now, and a
+watch high up in the crow's
+nest. The watch was crying in
+an almost-delirious voice:
+"Land, land! Land ho-oo!"
+But Martin-Danny hardly
+heard the words. Pietro came
+at him&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly Don Hernan was
+in front of him. Don Hernan's
+hand nipped up and then
+down and a knife arced toward
+Danny. He caught it by
+the haft, swung to face the
+giant. But, he thought, I don't
+know how to use a knife. I'm
+Danny Jones, I ...</p>
+
+<p>Pietro leaped, the knife
+down, held loosely at his side,
+underhanded, ready to slash
+and rip. Danny sidestepped
+and Pietro went by in a rush.
+Danny waited.</p>
+
+<p>Pietro came back carefully
+this time, crouching, balanced
+easily on the balls of his feet.
+For all his size, he fought
+with the grace of a dancer.</p>
+
+<p>Danny felt warm wetness
+where the blood was seeping
+from his ribs. Feet pounded
+as more of the crew came on
+deck in response to the
+watch's delirious words. Instead
+of crowding at the
+prow, though, they formed a
+circle around Danny and
+Pietro. Danny thought: But
+I'm the captain. The captain.
+They ought to help me ...
+they ... He knew though that
+they would not. They were a
+fierce, proud people and the
+law of single combat would
+apply even to the captain who
+had piloted them across an
+unknown ocean.</p>
+
+<p>Pietro came by, attempting
+to slash with his knife from
+outside. Danny moved quickly&mdash;not
+quick enough. The knife
+point caught his arm this
+time. He felt his hand go
+numb. His own knife clattered
+to the deck as blood
+oozed from his biceps.</p>
+
+<p>Once more Pietro charged
+him. Weaponless, Danny waited.
+Pietro was laughing, sure
+of himself&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>Careless.</p>
+
+<p>Danny slipped aside as
+Pietro brought the knife
+around in a wicked swipe. He
+spun with it and when he
+came around Danny was waiting
+for him. He drove his left
+fist into the great belly and
+his right to the big, bearded
+jaw. Pietro slumped, disbelief
+in his eyes. He swung the
+knife again but only succeeded
+in wrapping his giant arm
+around Danny. He bent his
+head, shook it to clear it of
+the sting of Danny's blows.
+And Danny rabbit-punched
+him.</p>
+
+<p>Pietro went down heavily
+and someone shouted. "The
+face! Kick him in the face!"</p>
+
+<p>Wearily, Danny shook his
+head. He went with Nina to
+the rail and saw the green
+palm-fringed island of the
+New World. Nina smiled at
+him, then ripped something
+from what she was wearing
+and began to bandage his
+ribs, his arm.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>They heard a splash. Danny
+looked around, saw Don Hernan
+and a member of the crew
+gazing serenely down. Pietro
+was down there, where they
+had tossed him. For a while
+the body floated, then the
+limbs splashed wildly as
+Pietro regained consciousness.
+He drifted back away
+from the ship. He went under,
+and came up. He went under
+again, and stayed under....</p>
+
+<p>"The Indies," Nina said.</p>
+
+<p>"The Indies," Danny said.
+He did not make the distinction
+between east and west.
+They must learn for themselves.</p>
+
+<p>The Pinta and the Santa
+Maria came up alongside. All
+thoughts of pursuit were
+gone. Columbus waved. He
+was very close now on the
+deck of the Santa Maria.
+There was something in his
+face, something changed. Columbus
+was a new man now.
+He had been shamed. He had
+followed his daughter and
+Martin Pinzon across an unknown
+ocean and he was
+changed now. Somehow, Danny
+knew he could now make
+voyages on his own.</p>
+
+<p>"Martin," Nina whispered.
+"They may say it was father.
+But it was you. I'll know in
+my heart, it was you."</p>
+
+<p>Danny nodded. She put her
+arm around his shoulder, and
+kissed him. He liked this slim
+girl&mdash;he liked her immensely,
+and it wasn't right. She
+wasn't his, not really. She was
+Martin Pinzon's. He let the
+Spaniard come to the surface,
+willed his own mind back and
+down and away. She's all
+yours, Pinzon, he told the
+other mind in his body. She&mdash;and
+this world. I'm a&mdash;stranger
+here.</p>
+
+<p>But once more he kissed
+Nina, fiercely, with passion
+and longing.</p>
+
+<p>"Goodbye, my darling," he
+said.</p>
+
+<p>"Goodbye! What&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He let Martin Pinzon take
+it from there. "Hello," said
+Martin Pinzon. "I mean, hello
+forever, darling."</p>
+
+<p>She laughed. "Goodbye to
+your bachelorhood, you
+mean."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," he said. "Yes."</p>
+
+<p>But it was Martin Pinzon
+talking now. Completely Martin
+Pinzon.</p>
+
+<p>He was back in his grand-uncle's
+basement. He was in
+the trunk and he felt stiff.
+Mostly, his right arm and the
+right ribs felt stiff. He felt
+his shirt. It was caked with
+blood.</p>
+
+<p>Proof, he thought. If I
+needed proof. What happened
+to Pinzon happened to me.</p>
+
+<p>He stood up. He felt weak,
+but knew he would be all
+right. He knew about Columbus
+now. At first, a weak
+drunkard. But after the first
+voyage, thanks to Martin Pinzon
+and Nina, an intrepid
+voyager. For history said Columbus
+would make four voyages
+to the New World&mdash;and
+four he would make.</p>
+
+<p>Danny went outside, to
+where the lawyer was waiting
+for him. The trunk was Danny's
+now, the time trunk. And
+he would use it again, often.
+He knew that now, and it was
+wrong to deflate a dream.</p>
+
+<p>Columbus was a hero. He
+would never say otherwise
+again.</p>
+
+<p class="p1"><b>THE END</b></p>
+
+<div class="trn"><b>Transcriber's Note:</b>
+This etext was produced from <i>Amazing Stories</i> October 1956.
+Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.
+copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and
+typographical errors have been corrected without note.</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of My Shipmate--Columbus, by Stephen Wilder
+
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+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of My Shipmate--Columbus, by Stephen Wilder
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: My Shipmate--Columbus
+
+Author: Stephen Wilder
+
+Illustrator: Llewellyn
+
+Release Date: October 24, 2008 [EBook #27019]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY SHIPMATE--COLUMBUS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ My
+ Shipmate--
+ Columbus
+
+ By STEPHEN WILDER
+
+
+    _We've been taught from childhood that the earth is round and that
+    Columbus discovered America. But maybe we take too much on faith.
+    This first crossing for instance. Were you there? Did you see
+    Columbus land? Here's the story of a man who can give us the
+    straight facts._
+
+
+The laughter brought spots of color to his cheeks. He stood there for a
+while, taking it, and then decided he had had enough and would sit down.
+A whisper of amusement still stirred the room as he returned to his seat
+and the professor said,
+
+"But just a moment, Mr. Jones. Won't you tell the class what makes you
+think Columbus was not the 'bold skipper' the history books say he was.
+After all, Mr. Jones, this is a history class. If you know more or
+better history than the history books do, isn't it your duty to tell
+us?"
+
+[Illustration: He clutched at his slashed veins and snarled into the
+face of death.]
+
+"I didn't say he _wasn't_," Danny Jones said desperately as the laughter
+started again. Some profs were like that, he thought. Picking on one
+student and making the rest of the class laugh and think what a great
+guy the prof was and what a prize dodo the hapless student was. "I
+said," Danny went on doggedly, "Columbus might not have been--maybe
+wasn't--the bold skipper the history books claim he was. I can't prove
+it. No one can. I haven't a time machine."
+
+Again it was the wrong thing to say. The professor wagged a finger in
+front of his face and gave Danny a sly look. "Don't you," he said,
+"don't you indeed? I was beginning to think you had been willed H. G.
+Wells' famous literary invention, young man." That one had the class all
+but rolling in the aisles.
+
+Danny said desperately, "No! No, I mean, they don't even know for sure
+if Columbus was born in Genoa. They just think he was. So they also
+could be wrong about--"
+
+Abruptly the professor's face went serious. "My dear Mr. Jones," he said
+slowly, acidly, "don't you think we've had enough of fantasy? Don't you
+think we ought to return to history?"
+
+Danny sat down and for a moment shut his eyes but remained conscious of
+everyone looking at him, staring at him, evaluating. It wasn't so easy,
+he decided, being a sophomore transfer student from a big city college,
+where almost everything went and there was a certain amount of anonymity
+in the very size of the classes, to a small town college where every
+face, after a week or so, was familiar. Danny wished he had kept his big
+yap shut about Columbus, but it was too late now. They'd be ribbing him
+for weeks....
+
+On his way back to the dorm after classes he was hailed by a student who
+lived down the hall from him, a fellow named Groves, who said, "How's
+the boy, Danny. Next thing you'll tell us is that Cortez was really a
+sexy Spanish broad with a thirty-eight bust who conquered Montezuma and
+his Indians with sex appeal. Get it, boy. I said--"
+
+"Aw, lay off," Danny grumbled.
+
+The other boy laughed, then shrugged, then said, "Oh yeah, forgot to
+tell you. There's a telegram waiting for you in the dorm. House-mother's
+got it. Well, see you, Vasco da Gama."
+
+Danny trudged on to the Georgian-style dormitory and went inside,
+through the lobby and behind the stairs to the house-mother's office at
+the rear of the building. She was a kindly-looking old woman with a halo
+of white hair and a smile which made her a good copy of everyone's
+grandmother. But now her face was set in unexpectedly grim lines.
+"Telegram for you, Danny," she said slowly. "They read it over the
+telephone first, then delivered it." She held out a yellow envelope.
+"I'm afraid it's some bad news, Danny." She seemed somehow reluctant to
+part with the little yellow envelope.
+
+"What is it?" Danny said.
+
+"You'd better read it yourself. Here, sit down."
+
+Danny nodded, took the envelope, sat down and opened it. He read, MR.
+DANNY JONES, WHITNEY COLLEGE, WHITNEY, VIRGINIA. REGRET TO INFORM YOU
+UNCLE AVERILL PASSED AWAY LAST NIGHT PEACEFULLY IN HIS SLEEP LEAVING
+UNSPECIFIED PROPERTY TO YOU. It was signed with a name Danny did not
+recognize.
+
+"I'm terribly sorry," the house-mother said, placing her hand on
+Danny's shoulder.
+
+"Oh, that's all right, Mrs. Grange. It's all right. You see, Uncle
+Averill wasn't a young man. He must have been in his eighties."
+
+"Were you very close to him, Danny?"
+
+"No, not for a long time. When I was a kid--"
+
+Mrs. Grange smiled.
+
+"Well, when I was eight or nine, I used to see him all the time. We
+stayed at his place on the coast near St. Augustine, Florida, for a
+year. I--I feel sorry about Uncle Averill, Mrs. Grange, but I feel
+better about something that happened in class today. I--I think Uncle
+Averill would have approved of how I acted."
+
+"Want to talk about it?"
+
+"Well, it's just he always said never to take any so-called fact for
+granted, especially in history. I can almost remember his voice now, the
+way he used to say, 'if ever there's an argument in history, sonny, all
+you ever get is the propaganda report of the side which won.' You know,
+Mrs. Grange, I think he was right. Of course, a lot of folks thought old
+Uncle Averill was a little queer. Touched in the head is what they
+said."
+
+"They oughtn't to say such things."
+
+"Always tinkering around in his basement. Funny, nobody ever knew on
+what. He wouldn't let anybody near the place. He had a time lock and
+everything. What nobody could figure out is if he was trying so hard to
+guard something that was in the basement, why did he sometimes disappear
+for weeks on end without even telling anybody where he went. And I
+remember," Danny went on musing, "every time he came back he went into
+that harangue about history, as if somehow he had confirmed his
+suspicions. He was a funny old guy but I liked him."
+
+"You remembering him so vividly after all these years will be the best
+epitaph your uncle could have, Danny. But what are you going to do?
+About what he left you, I mean."
+
+"Uncle Averill always liked promptness. If he left something for me,
+he'd want me to pick it up immediately. I guess I ought to go down there
+to St. Augustine as fast as I can."
+
+"But your classes--"
+
+"I'll have to take an emergency leave of absence."
+
+"Under the circumstances, I'm sure the college will approve. Do you
+think your uncle left you anything--well--important?"
+
+"Important?" Danny repeated the word. "No, I don't think so. Not by the
+world's standards. But it must have been important to Uncle Averill. He
+was a--you know, an image-breaker--"
+
+"An iconoclast," supplied Mrs. Grange.
+
+"Yes'm, an iconoclast. But I liked him."
+
+Mrs. Grange nodded. "You'd better get over and see the Dean."
+
+An hour later, Danny was at the bus depot, waiting for the Greyhound
+that would take him over to Richmond, where he would meet a train for
+the south and Florida.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was a rambling white stucco house with a red tile roof and a pleasant
+grove of palm trees in front and flame-red hibiscus climbing the stucco.
+The lawyer, whose name was Tartalion, met him at the door.
+
+"I'll get right down to business, Mr. Jones," Tartalion said after they
+had entered the house. "Your uncle wanted it that way."
+
+"Wait a minute," Danny said, "don't tell me they already had the
+funeral?"
+
+"Your uncle didn't believe in funerals. His will stipulated cremation."
+
+"But, it was so--"
+
+"Sudden? I know, the will wasn't officially probated. But your uncle had
+a judge for a friend, and under the circumstances, his wishes were
+granted. Now, then, you know why you're here?"
+
+"You mean, what he left me? I thought I'd at least get to see his--"
+
+"His body? Not your uncle, not old Averill Jones. You ought to know
+better. Sonny," the lawyer asked abruptly, "how well did you know the
+old man?"
+
+The sonny rankled. After all, Danny thought, I'm nineteen. I like beer
+and girls and I'm no sonny anymore. He sighed and thought of his history
+class, then thought of Uncle Averill's opinion of history, and felt
+better. He explained the relationship to Mr. Tartalion and waited for
+the lawyer to speak.
+
+"Well, it beats me," Tartalion admitted. "Why he left it to a nephew he
+hasn't seen in ten or eleven years, I mean. Don't just look at me like
+that. You know that contraption he had in the basement, don't you? How
+he wouldn't let a soul near it, ever? Then tell me something, Danny. Why
+did he leave it to you?"
+
+"You're joking!" Danny cried.
+
+"I was your uncle's lawyer. I wouldn't joke about it. He said it was the
+only thing he had worth willing. He said he willed it to you. Want me to
+read you the clause?"
+
+Danny nodded. He felt strangely flattered, because the contraption in
+Averill Jones' basement--a contraption which no one but Averill Jones
+had ever seen--had been the dearest thing in the old bachelor's life.
+Actually, he was not Danny's uncle, but his grand-uncle. He had lived
+alone in St. Augustine and had liked living alone. The only relative he
+had tolerated was Danny, when Danny was a small boy. Then, as Danny
+approached his ninth birthday, the old man had said, "They're teaching
+you too much at school, son. Too many wrong things, too many
+highfalutin' notions, too much just plain old hogwash. Why don't you
+kind of make yourself scarce for a few years?" It had been blunt and to
+the point. It had made Danny cry. He hadn't thought of what had happened
+that last day he'd seen his grand-uncle for years, but he thought of it
+now.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"But why can't I come back and see you?" he had asked tearfully.
+
+"On account of the machine, son."
+
+"But _why_, uncle?"
+
+"Hey, come on now and stop your blubbering all over me. If you can't you
+can't."
+
+"You have to tell me why!"
+
+"Stubborn little critter. Well, I like that. All right, I'll tell you
+why. Because the machine has a funny kind of fuel, that's why. It
+doesn't run on gasoline, Danny, or anything like that."
+
+"What does it do, uncle?"
+
+But the old man had shaken his head. "Maybe someday after I'm gone
+you'll find out. If anyone finds out, it will be you, and that's a
+promise."
+
+"You still didn't tell me why I have to go away."
+
+"Because--well, don't go telling this to your folks, son, or they'll
+think old Uncle Averill has a screw loose somewheres--because that
+machine I have downstairs runs on faith. On faith, you understand? Oh,
+not the kind of faith they think is important and do a lot of talking
+and sermoning about, but a different kind of faith. Personal faith, you
+might say. Faith in a dream or a belief, no matter what people think.
+And--you know what ruins that faith?"
+
+"No," Danny had said, his eyes very big.
+
+"Knowledge!" cried his uncle. "Too much so-called knowledge which isn't
+knowledge at all, but hearsay. That's what they're teaching you. In
+school, other places, every day of your life. I'll tell you when you can
+come back, Danny: when you're ready to throw most of it overboard. All
+right?"
+
+He had had to say all right. It was the last time he had ever seen his
+uncle, but those weren't the last words Averill Jones had spoken to him,
+for the old man had added as he got up to go: "Don't forget, son. Don't
+let them pull the wool over your eyes. History is propaganda--from a
+winner's point of view. If a side lost the war and got stamped on, you
+never see the war from its point of view. If an idea got out of favor
+and stamped on, the idea is ridiculed. Don't forget it, son. If you
+believe something, if you _know_ it's right, have faith in it and don't
+give a mind what people say. Promise?"
+
+Danny, his eyes stinging with tears because somehow he could sense he
+would never see Uncle Averill again, had said that he promised.
+
+"... to my nephew, Danny Jones," the lawyer was reading. "So, you see,
+you'll have to go right down there and look the thing over. Naturally,
+I'll have to leave the house while you do so and I won't be able to
+return until you tell me I can--"
+
+"But why?"
+
+"Weren't you listening?"
+
+"I guess I was thinking about my uncle."
+
+"Well, the clause says you're to examine the machine alone, with no one
+else in the house. It's perfectly legal. If that's what your uncle
+wanted, that's what he'll get. Are you all set?"
+
+Danny nodded and Tartalion shook his hand solemnly, then left the room.
+Danny heard the lawyer's footsteps receding, heard the front door open
+and close, heard a car engine start. Then, slowly, he walked through the
+living room of his dead uncle's house and across the long, narrow
+kitchen and to the basement stairs. His hands were very dry and he felt
+his heart thudding. He was nervous, which surprised him.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+But why? he thought, why should it surprise me? All my life, Uncle
+Averill's basement has been a mystery. Let's face it, Danny-boy, you
+haven't exactly had an adventurous life. Maybe Uncle Averill was the
+biggest adventure in it, with his secret machine and strange
+disappearances. And maybe Uncle Averill did a good selling job when you
+were small, because that machine means mystery to you. It's probably not
+much more than a better mousetrap, but you want to believe it is, don't
+you? And you're nervous because the way Uncle Averill kept you and
+anyone else away from his basement when you were a kid makes it a kind
+of frightening place, even now.
+
+He opened the basement door with a key which the lawyer had given him.
+Beyond the door were five steps and another door--this one of metal. It
+had had a time lock in the old days, Danny remembered, but the lock was
+gone now. The metal door swung ponderously, like the door to a bank
+vault, and then Danny was on the other side. It was dark down there, but
+faint light seeped in through small high windows and in a few moments
+Danny's eyes grew accustomed to the gloom.
+
+The basement was empty except for what looked like a big old steamer
+trunk in the center of the dusty cement floor.
+
+Danny was disappointed. He had childhood visions of an intricate maze
+of machinery cluttering up every available square foot of basement
+space, but now he knew that whatever it was which had taken up so much
+of Uncle Averill's time could fit in the odd-looking steamer trunk in
+the center of the floor and thus wasn't too much bigger than a good-size
+TV set. He walked slowly to the trunk and stood for a few moments over
+the lid. It was an ancient-looking steamer: Uncle Averill must have
+owned it since his own youth. Still, just a plain trunk.
+
+Danny was in no hurry to open the lid, which did not seem to be locked.
+For a few moments, at least, he could shield himself from further
+disappointment--because now he had a hunch that Uncle Averill's machine
+was going to be a first-class dud. Maybe, he thought gloomily, Uncle
+Averill had simply not liked to be with people and had used the ruse of
+a bank-vault door and an empty steamer trunk to achieve privacy whenever
+he felt the need for it.
+
+Remembering the history class, Danny decided that--after all--sometimes
+that wasn't a bad idea. Finally, he called himself a fool for waiting
+and threw up the trunk-lid.
+
+A small case was all he saw inside, although the interior of the trunk
+was larger than he had expected. A man could probably curl up in there
+quite comfortably. But the case--the case looked exactly like it ought
+to house a tape-recorder.
+
+Danny reached in and hauled out the case. It was heavy, about as heavy
+as a tape-recorder ought to be. Danny placed it down on the floor and
+opened it.
+
+What he saw was a battery-powered tape-recorder. His disappointment
+increased: Uncle Averill had left a message for him, that was all.
+Dutifully, however, he set the spools and snapped on the switch.
+
+A voice from yesterday--Uncle Averill's voice--spoke to him.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Hallo, Danny," it said. "The way the years roll by, I forget exactly
+how old you are, boy. Seventeen? Eighteen? Twenty? Well, it doesn't
+matter--if you still believe. If you have faith. Faith in what? Maybe
+now you're old enough to know. I mean faith in--not having faith. That
+is, faith in not taking faithfully all the silly items of knowledge
+they try to cram down your throat in school. See what I mean? Remember
+what I always said about history, Danny: you get propaganda, is all,
+from the winning side. If you got faith enough in yourself, Danny, faith
+enough not to believe everything the history books tell you, that's the
+kind of faith I mean. Because such a faith gave me the most interesting
+life a man ever lived, make no mistake about that.
+
+"I'm dead, Danny. Yep, old Uncle Averill is dead. Because this
+tape-recorder won't be left you in my will until I am dead. But, no
+regrets, boy. I had a great life. How great--nobody knows. Only you,
+you're about to find out. Do you believe? Do you believe the way I have
+in mind? Make no mistake about it now, son. If you don't believe, you
+might as well burn these spools and go home."
+
+Danny considered. He remembered what had happened in his history class.
+Wasn't that the sort of faith Uncle Averill had in mind? Faith not to
+believe in historical fairy tales? Faith to doubt when one ought to
+doubt? Faith to be skeptical....
+
+"Good," said the voice from the past. "Then you're still here. Look in
+front of you, Danny-boy. The trunk. The old steamer. Know what it is?"
+
+"No," Danny said, then clamped a hand over his mouth. For a moment he
+had actually believed he was talking to the dead man.
+
+"It's a time machine," said his Uncle's voice.
+
+There was a silence. The tape went on winding. For a moment, Danny
+thought that was all. Then the voice continued: "No, your old
+grand-uncle isn't nuts, Danny. It's a time machine. I know it's a time
+machine because I used it all my life. You expected some kind of
+complicated gadget down here, I know. I made everybody think it was a
+gadget. Going down to your basement and tinkering with a gadget is fine
+in our culture. Hell's fire, boy, it's approved behavior. But locking a
+bank-vault door behind you and curling up in a steamer trunk, that isn't
+approved. Now, is it?
+
+"I'll tell you about this here time machine, sonny. It isn't a machine
+at all, in the strict sense of the word. You can see that. It's
+just--well, an empty box. But it works, and what else ought a fellow to
+care about.
+
+"Funny how I got it. I was eighteen or twenty, maybe. And my
+Grand-uncle Daniel gave it to me. Daniel, get me. Daniel to Averill to
+Daniel. So when you have a grand-nephew, see that his name's Averill,
+understand? Keep it going, Danny. Because this trunk is old. A lot older
+than you think.
+
+"And you can travel through time in it. Don't look at me like that, I
+know what you're thinking. There isn't any such thing as time travel. In
+the strict sense of the word, it's impossible. You can't resurrect the
+past or peek into the unborn future. Well, I don't know about the
+future, but I do know about the past. But you got to have faith, you got
+to be a kid at heart, Danny. You got to have this dream, see?
+
+"Because you don't travel anywhere. But your mind does, and it's like
+you wake up in somebody else's body, drawn to him like a magnet,
+somebody else--some_when_ else. Your body stays right here, you see. In
+the trunk. In what they called suspended animation. But you--the real
+you, the you that knows how to dream and to believe--you go back.
+
+"Don't make the mistake I made at first. It's no dream in the usual
+sense of the word. It's real, Danny. You're somebody else back there,
+all right, but if he gets hurt, you get hurt. If he dies--taps for Danny
+Jones! You get me?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The dead man's voice chuckled. "But don't think this means automatically
+you'll be able to travel through time. Because you got to have the
+proper attitude. You've got to believe in yourself, and not in all the
+historical fictions they give you. Now do you understand? If you're
+skeptical enough and if at the same time you like to dream
+enough--that's all it takes. Want to try it?"
+
+Suddenly the voice was gone. That was all there was and at first Danny
+could not believe it. A sense of bitter disappointment enveloped
+him--not because Uncle Averill had left him nothing but an old steamer
+trunk but because Uncle Averill had been, to say the least, off his
+rocker.
+
+The fabulous machine in the basement was--nothing.
+
+Just a steamer trunk and an incredible story about time-traveling.
+
+Danny sighed and began to walk back toward the cellar stairs. He paused.
+He turned around uncertainly and looked at the trunk. After all, he had
+promised; at least he'd promised himself that he'd carry out his
+peculiar uncle's wishes. Besides, he'd come all the way down here from
+Whitney College and he ought to at least try the machine.
+
+But there wasn't any machine.
+
+Try the trunk then? There was nothing to try except curling up in it and
+maybe closing the lid. Uncle Averill was a practical joker, too. It
+might be just like Uncle Averill to have the lid snap shut and lock
+automatically so Danny would have to pound his knuckles black and blue
+until the lawyer heard and came for him.
+
+You see, sonny? would be Uncle Averill's point. You believed me, and you
+should have known better.
+
+Danny cursed himself and returned to the trunk. He gazed down at the
+yawning interior for a few seconds, then put first one foot, then the
+other over the side. He sat down and stared at a peeling blue-paper
+liner. He rolled over and curled up. The bottom of the trunk was a good
+fit. He reached up and found a rope dangling down toward him. He pulled
+the lid down, smiling at his own credulity, and was engulfed in total
+darkness.
+
+But it would be wonderful, he found himself thinking. It would be the
+most wonderful thing in the world, to be able to travel through time and
+see for yourself what really had happened in all the world's colorful
+ages and to take part in the wildest, proudest adventures of mankind.
+
+He thought, I want to believe. It would be so wonderful to believe.
+
+He also thought about his history class. He did not know it, but his
+history class was very important. It was crucial. Everything depended on
+his history class. Because he doubted. He did not want to take Columbus'
+bravery and intelligence for granted. There were no surviving documents,
+so why should he?
+
+Maybe Columbus was a third-rater!
+
+Maybe--at least you didn't have to worship him as a hero just because he
+happened to discover ...
+
+Now, what did he discover?
+
+In absolute darkness and a ringing in the ears and far away a dim
+glowing light and larger and brighter and the whirling whirling spinning
+flashing I don't believe but strangely somehow I have faith, faith in
+myself, buzzing, humming, glowing ...
+
+The world exploded.
+
+There was a great deal of laughter in the tavern.
+
+At first he thought the laughter was directed at him. Giddily, he raised
+his head. He saw raw wood rafters, a leaded glass window, a stained and
+greasy wall, heavy wood-plank tables with heavy chairs and a
+barbarous-looking crew drinking from heavy clay mugs. One of the mugs
+was in front of him and he raised it to his lips without thinking.
+
+It was ale, the strongest ale he had ever tasted. He got it down somehow
+without gagging. The laughter came again, rolling over him like a wave.
+A serving girl scurried by, skirts flashing, a rough tray of clay mugs
+balanced expertly on one hand. A man with a sword dangling at his side
+staggered to his feet drunkenly and clawed at the girl, but she shoved
+him back into his seat and kept walking.
+
+The third wave of laughter rolled and then there was a brief silence.
+
+"Drink too much, Martin Pinzon?" Danny's companion at the long
+board-table asked. He was an evil-looking old man with a patch over one
+eye and a small white spade-shaped beard and unshaven cheeks.
+
+"Not me," Danny said, amazed because the language was unfamiliar to him
+yet he could both understand and speak it. "What's so funny?" he asked.
+"Why's everyone laughing?"
+
+The old man's hand slapped his back and the mouth parted to show ugly
+blackened teeth and the old man laughed so hard spittle spotted his
+beard. "As if you didn't know," he managed to say. "As if you didn't
+know, Martin Pinzon. It's that weak-minded sailor again, the one who
+claims to have a charter for three caravels from the Queen herself.
+Drunk as Bacchus and there's his pretty little daughter trying to get
+him to come home again. I tell you, Martin Pinzon, if he isn't ..."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+But now Danny wasn't listening. He looked around the tavern until he saw
+the butt of all the laughter. Slowly, drawn irresistibly, Martin
+Pinzon--or Danny Jones--got up and walked over there.
+
+The man was drunk as Bacchus, all right. He was a man perhaps somewhat
+taller than average. He had a large head with an arrogant beak of a nose
+dominating the face, but the mouth was weak and irresolute. He stared
+drunkenly at a beautiful girl who could not have been more than
+seventeen.
+
+The girl was saying, "Please, papa. Come back to the hotel with me.
+Papa, don't you realize you're sailing tomorrow?"
+
+"Gowananlemebe," the man mumbled.
+
+"Papa. Please. The Queen's charter--"
+
+"I was drunk when I took it and drunk when I examined those three
+stinking caravels and--" he leaned forward as if to speak in deepest
+confidence, but his drunken voice was still very loud--"and drunk when I
+said the world was round. I--"
+
+"You hear that?" someone cried. "Old Chris was drunk when he said the
+world was round!"
+
+"He must a' been!" someone else shouted. Everyone laughed.
+
+"Come on, papa," the girl pleaded. She wore a shawl over her dress and
+another shawl on her head. Her blonde hair barely peeked out, and she
+was beautiful. She tried to drag her father to his feet by one arm, but
+he was too heavy for her.
+
+She looked around the room defiantly as the laughter surged again.
+"Brave men!" she mocked. "A bunch of stay-at-homes. Won't somebody help
+me? Papa sails tomorrow."
+
+"Papa sails tomorrow," said someone, miming her desperate tones. "Didn't
+you know that papa sails tomorrow?"
+
+"Not sailing anyplace at all," the father mumbled. "World isn't round.
+Drunk. Think I want to fall over the edge? Think I--"
+
+"Oh, papa," moaned the girl. "Won't someone help me to--" And she tugged
+again at the man's arm--"to get him to bed."
+
+A big man nearby boomed, "I'll help you t'bed, me lass, but it won't be
+with your old father. Eh, mates?" he cried, and the tavern echoed with
+laughter. The big man got up and went over to the girl. "Now, listen,
+lass," he said, taking hold of her arm. "Why don't you forget this
+drunken slob of a father and--"
+
+Crack! Her hand blurred at his cheek, struck it like a pistol shot. The
+big man blinked his eyes and grinned. "So you have spirit, do you? Well,
+it's more than I can say for that father of yours, too yellow and too
+drunk to carry out the Queen of Castile's bid--"
+
+The hand flashed out again but this time the big man caught it in one of
+his own and twisted sideways against the girl, forcing her back against
+the table's edge. "I like my girls to struggle," he said, and the girl's
+face went white as she suddenly let herself go limp in his arms.
+
+The man grinned. "Oh I like 'em limp, me lass. When they're pretty as a
+rose, like you, who's to care?"
+
+"Papa!" the girl screamed. The big man's face hovered over hers,
+blotting out the oil-lamp lights, the thick lips all but slavering....
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Just a minute, man!" Danny cried, striding boldly to them. Hardly
+pausing in his efforts to kiss the again struggling girl, the big man
+swatted back with one enormous arm and sent Danny reeling. Whoever he
+was, he was a popular figure. The laughter was still louder now.
+Everyone was having a great time, at Danny's expense now.
+
+Danny crashed into a chair, upending it. A bowl of soup came crashing
+down, the heavy bowl splintering, the hot contents scalding him. He
+stood up and heard the girl scream. Instinctively, he grasped two legs
+of the heavy chair and hefted it. Then he sprinted back across the room.
+
+"Behind you, Pietro!" a voice cried, and at the last moment the big man
+whirled and faced Danny, then lunged to one side, taking the girl with
+him.
+
+Danny couldn't check his arms, which had carried the heavy chair
+overhead. It came down with a crash against the edge of the big plank
+table. The chair shattered in Danny's arms. One leg flew up and struck
+the big man in the face, though, bringing blood just below the cheek
+bone. He bellowed in surprise and pain and came lumbering toward Danny.
+
+Danny was aware of the girl cowering to one side, aware that another of
+the chair's legs was still grasped in his right hand. He was but a boy,
+he found himself thinking quickly, desperate. If the giant grabbed him,
+grabbed him just once, the fight would be over. The man was twice his
+size, twice his weight. Yet he had to do something to help the girl....
+
+The giant came at him. The big arms lifted over the heavy, brutal
+face.... And Danny drove under them with the chair-leg, jabbing the tip
+of it against the man's enormous middle. Pietro--for such was the man's
+name--sagged a few inches, the breath rushing, heavy with garlic, from
+his mouth. But still, he got his great hands about Danny's throat and
+began to squeeze.
+
+Danny saw the wood rafters, the window, a bargirl standing, mouth open,
+watching them, the drunken man and his daughter, then a blurry, watery
+confusion as his eyes went dim. He was conscious of swinging the club,
+of striking something, of extending the club out as far as it would go
+and then slamming it back toward himself, striking something which he
+hoped was Pietro's head. He felt his mouth going slack and wondered if
+his tongue were hanging out. Exerting all his strength he struck numbly,
+mechanically, desperately with the chair-leg.
+
+And slowly, the constriction left his throat. Something struck against
+his middle, almost knocking him down. Something pushed against his legs,
+backing him against the table. He looked down. His eyes were watery, his
+throat burning. The giant Pietro lay, breathing stertorously, at his
+feet.
+
+A small hand grabbed his. "Father will come now," a voice said. "I
+don't--don't even know who you are, but I want to thank you. I thank you
+for myself and the Queen, and God, senor. You better come quickly, with
+us. Does it hurt much?"
+
+Danny tried to talk. His voice rasped in his throat. The girl squeezed
+his hand and together with her and the drunken man who was her father,
+he left the tavern. The giant Pietro was just getting up and shaking his
+fist at them slowly....
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was a small top-floor room in an old waterfront building in the
+Spanish port of Palos. Or, Danny corrected himself, the Castillian port
+of Palos. Because, in this year of our Lord 1492, Spain had barely
+become a unified country.
+
+"Are you feeling better, Martin Pinzon?" the beautiful girl asked him.
+
+He had given the name he had heard, Martin Pinzon, as his own. The room
+was very hot. The August night outside was hot too and sultry and
+starless. The girl's father was resting now, breathing unevenly. The
+girl's name was Nina. One of the small caravels in her father's
+three-ship fleet was named after her. Her full name was Nina Columbus.
+
+Nina brought another wet cloth and covered Danny's swollen throat with
+it. "Does it hurt much?" she said, and, for the tenth time, "we have no
+money to thank you with, senor."
+
+"Any man would have--"
+
+"But you were the only one. The only--never mind. Martin, listen. I have
+no right to trouble you, but ... it's father. Tomorrow is the second day
+of August, you see, and it is all over Palos that tomorrow he sails with
+the Queen's charter...."
+
+"Then if you're worrying about that big man, Pietro, you can forget it.
+If you're sailing, I mean."
+
+"That's just it," Nina said desperately. "Father doesn't want to sail.
+Martin, tell me, do you believe the world is round?"
+
+Danny nodded very soberly. "Yes, Nina," he told her softly. "The world
+is round. I believe it."
+
+"My father doesn't! Funny, isn't it, Martin?" she said in a voice which
+told him she did not think it was funny at all. "All Spain--and Genoa
+too--think that tomorrow morning my father, Christopher Columbus, will
+journey to the unexplored west confident that he will arrive, after a
+long voyage, in the East--when really my father, this same Christopher
+Columbus, lies here in a drunken stupor because he lacks the courage to
+face his convictions and ... oh, Martin!" Her voice broke, her pretty
+face crumpled. She sobbed into her hands. Gently, Danny stroked her
+back.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"There now, take it easy," he said. "Your father will sail. I know he'll
+sail. Do you believe the world to be round, little Nina?"
+
+"Yes. Oh yes, yes, yes!"
+
+"He will sail. He will prove it and be famous. I know he will."
+
+"Oh, Martin. You sound so sure of yourself. I wish I could ..."
+
+"Nina, listen. Your father will sail."
+
+"You'll help us you mean?"
+
+"Yes. All right, I'll help you. Now, get some sleep if you want to wake
+up and say goodbye to him in the morning. Because I'll be getting him up
+before the sun to--"
+
+"Are you a sailing man too? Are you going with him?"
+
+"Well ..."
+
+"Wait! Martin, I remember you now. Martin Pinzon. At the meeting of the
+organization to prove the Earth's round shape. You! You were there. And
+once, once when he was not drunk, father said that a Don Pinzon would
+command one of our three ships, the Nina it was, the caravel which
+bears my name. Are you this Don Pinzon?"
+
+Slowly, Danny nodded. He remembered his history now. The Nina _had_ been
+commanded by one Don Pinzon, Don Martin Pinzon! And he was now this
+Martin Pinzon, he, Danny Jones. Which meant he was going with Columbus
+to discover a new world! A nineteen-year-old American youth going to
+witness the single most important event in American history....
+
+"Yes," Danny said slowly, "I am Don Pinzon."
+
+"But--but you're so young!"
+
+Danny shrugged. "I have seen more of the world than you would believe,
+Nina."
+
+"The Western Sea? You have been out on the Western Sea, as far as the
+Canary Islands, perhaps?" she asked in an awed voice.
+
+"I know the Western Sea," he said. "Trust me."
+
+She came very close. She looked long in his eyes. "I trust you, Martin.
+Oh yes, I trust you. Listen, Martin. I'm going. I'm going with you. I
+have to go with you."
+
+"But a girl--"
+
+"He is my father. I love him, Martin. He needs me. Martin, don't try to
+stop me. I want you to help me aboard, to see that he ... oh, Martin,
+you'll have so much to do. Because the rest of our crew--some of them
+being hired even now by the three caravel pursers--will be a crew of
+cut-throats and ne'er-do-wells embarking into the unknown because they
+have utterly nothing to lose. Father needs you because the others won't
+care."
+
+"The three caravels will sail west," Danny told her. "Believe me,
+they'll sail west. Now, get some sleep."
+
+Her face was still very close. Her eyes filled with tears, but they were
+not tears of sadness. She took his cheeks in her hands and kissed him
+softly on the lips. She smiled at him, her own lips trembling.
+
+"Martin," she said.
+
+His arms moved. They went around her, drew the softness of her close.
+She murmured something, but he did not hear it. His lips found hers a
+second time, fiercely. His hands her shoulder, her throat, her ...
+
+"Flat," Columbus mumbled. "Flat. Abs'lutely flat. The Earth is--flat as
+a pancake...."
+
+"Oh, Martin!" Nina cried.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was raining in the morning. A hard, driving rain, pelting down on the
+seaport of Palos. The three caravels floated side by side in the little
+harbor and a large, derisive crowd had gathered. The crowd erupted into
+noisy laughter when Columbus and his little party appeared on foot.
+
+"I need a drink," Columbus whispered. "I can't go through with it."
+
+"Father," Nina said. "We're with you. I'm here. Martin is here."
+
+"I can't go--"
+
+"You've got to go through with it! For yourself and for the world. Now,
+stand straight, father. They're looking at you. They're all looking at
+you."
+
+Columbus, thought Danny. The intrepid voyager who had discovered a new
+world! He smiled grimly. Columbus, the history books should have said,
+the drunken sot who didn't even have the courage to face his own
+convictions.
+
+They walked ahead through the ridiculing crowd. Danny's throat was still
+sore. He was not frightened, though. He possibly was the only man in the
+crew who was not frightened. The others didn't care what their
+destination was, true: but they wanted to reach it alive. Danny knew the
+journey would end in success. The end of the journey meant nothing to
+him. It was written in history. It was ...
+
+Unless, he suddenly found himself thinking, I came back here to write
+it. He grinned at his own bravado. What would they have said in freshman
+psych--that was practically paranoid thinking. As if Danny Jones,
+Whitney College, Virginia, U.S.A., could have anything to do with the
+success or failure of Columbus' journey.
+
+They reached the small skiff that would take them out to the tiny fleet
+of caravels. The crowd hooted and jeered.
+
+"... going to drop off the edge of the world, Columbus."
+
+"If the monsters don't get you first."
+
+"Or the storms and whirlpools."
+
+Columbus gripped Nina's hand. Martin-Danny took his other arm firmly and
+steered him toward the prow of the skiff. "Easy now, skipper," Danny
+said.
+
+"I can't--"
+
+"There's wine on the Santa Maria," Danny whispered. "Much wine--to make
+you forget. Come on!"
+
+"And I'm going, father," Nina said. "Whether you go or not."
+
+"You!" Columbus gasped. "A girl. You, going--"
+
+"With Martin Pinzon. If--if my own father can't look after me, then
+Martin can."
+
+"But you--" Danny began.
+
+"Be quiet, please," she whispered as Columbus climbed stiffly into the
+skiff. "It may be the only way, Martin. He--he loves me. I guess I'm the
+only thing he cares about. If he knows I'm going."
+
+"To the Santa Maria!" Columbus told the rowers as Danny and Nina got
+into the skiff.
+
+"To the New World!" cried Danny melodramatically.
+
+"What did you say?" Nina asked him.
+
+His face colored. "I mean, to the Indies! To the Indies!"
+
+The skiff bobbed out across the harbor toward the three waiting
+caravels. Departure time had arrived.
+
+Two hours later, they were underway.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The sea was calm as glass, green as emerald. The three caravels, after a
+journey of several days, had reached the Canary Islands where additional
+provisions and fresh water were to be had.
+
+"This," said Columbus, waving his arms to take in the chain of islands.
+"This is as far as a mere man has a right to go. There is nothing
+further, can't you see? Can't you?"
+
+He was sober. Danny had come over in a skiff from the Nina to see that
+he remained sober at least for the loading and the departure. It was
+as if he, Danny, was going to preserve Columbus' name for
+history--single-handed if necessary.
+
+"We will not go on," Columbus said. "We're going back. The only way to
+the Indies is around the Cape of Storms, around Africa. I tell you--"
+
+"That's enough, father," Nina said. "We ..."
+
+"I'm in command here," Columbus told them. It surprised Danny. Usually,
+the drunken sailor was not so self-assertive. Then it occurred to Danny
+that it wasn't merely self-assertiveness: it was fear.
+
+Danny called over the mate, a one-legged man named Juan, who walked with
+a jaunty stride despite his peg leg. "You take orders from Columbus?"
+Danny said. "Would you take orders from me?"
+
+Juan shook his head, smiling. "You command aboard the Nina only, Martin
+Pinzon. I heard what the Captain said. If he wants to go back and give
+up this fool scheme, it's all right with me. And you know the rest of
+the crew will say the same."
+
+Nina looked at Danny hopelessly. She said, "Then, then it's no use?"
+
+Danny whispered fiercely, "Your father loves you very much?"
+
+"Yes, but--"
+
+"And doesn't want to see anything happen to you?"
+
+"But--"
+
+"And believes the world is flat and if you sail far enough west you'll
+fall off?"
+
+"But I--"
+
+"Then you're coming with me aboard the Nina!"
+
+Columbus gasped, "What did you say?"
+
+"She's coming with me, on the Nina. If you don't want to find the
+western route to the Indies, we will. Right, Nina?" he said, taking her
+hand and moving to where the rope-ladder dangled over the side of the
+Santa Maria to the skiff below.
+
+"Don't take her from this deck," Columbus ordered.
+
+Danny ignored him. "Don Juan!" cried Columbus, and the peg-leg came
+toward Danny.
+
+"I'm sorry, Don Martin," he said, "but--"
+
+Still holding Nina's hand, Martin stiff-armed him out of the way and ran
+for the side. Someone jerked the rope-ladder out of reach and someone
+else leaped on Martin. For, he was Martin now, Martin Pinzon. His own
+identity seemed submerged far below the surface, as if somehow he could
+look on all this without risking anything. He knew that he was merely a
+defense mechanism, to ward off fear: for, it wasn't true. If Martin
+Pinzon were hurt, _he_ would be hurt.
+
+He hurled the man from his back. Nina screamed as a cutlass flashed in
+the sun. Martin-Danny ducked, felt the blade whizz by overhead.
+
+"Jump!" Martin-Danny cried.
+
+"But I can't swim!"
+
+"I can. I'll save you." It was Danny again, completely Danny. He felt
+himself arise to the surface, submerging Martin Pinzon. Because the
+Spaniard probably couldn't swim at all, and if Danny made promises, it
+was Danny who must fulfill them.
+
+He squeezed Nina's hand. He went up on the side--and over. The water
+seemed a very long way down. They hit it finally with a great splash.
+
+Down they went and down, into the warm murky green depths. Down--and
+finally up. Danny's head broke surface. He was only yards from the
+skiff. He had never let go of Nina's hand, but now he did, getting a
+lifeguard's hold on her. He struck out for the skiff.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Fifteen minutes later, they were aboard the Nina. "I command here,"
+Danny told the crew. "Is that correct?"
+
+"Aye, sir," said Don Hernan, the mate.
+
+"Even if Columbus tells you different?"
+
+"Columbus?" spat Don Hernan. "That drunkard is in command of the Santa
+Maria, not the Nina. We follow Martin Pinzon here."
+
+"Even if I give one set of orders and Columbus another?"
+
+"Even then, my commander. Yes."
+
+"Then we're sailing west," Danny cried. "Up anchor! Hurry."
+
+"But I--" Nina began.
+
+"Don't you see? He thinks I'm abducting you. Or he thinks I'm sailing
+west with you to certain death. He will follow with the Santa Maria and
+the Pinta, trying to rescue you. And we'll reach the Indies. Columbus
+will sail across the Western Sea to save his daughter, but what's the
+difference _why_ he'll sail. The important thing is, Queen Isabella gave
+him the charter and the caravels and with them he's making history. You
+see?"
+
+"I ... I think so," Nina said doubtfully.
+
+A heady wind sprang up. The square-rigged sails billowed. The Nina began
+to surge forward--into the unknown West.
+
+Tackle creaked aboard the nearby Santa Maria and Pinta. The two other
+caravels came in pursuit. But they won't catch us, Martin knew. They
+won't catch us until we reach--Hispaniola. And then, pursuit will be no
+more. Then, it will no longer matter and we'll all be heroes....
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Which is the way it turned out--almost.
+
+The Santa Maria and Pinta pursued all through August and September and
+into October, but the Nina kept its slim lead. The ships were never out
+of sight of one another and once or twice Columbus even hailed them,
+imploring them to return to Spain with him. When they ignored him, his
+deep voice boomed to his own crew and the crew of the Pinta: "Then sail
+on, sail on!" It was these words, Danny knew, that history would record.
+Not the others.
+
+One morning in October, he awoke with a start. Something had disturbed
+his sleep--something ...
+
+"Good morning, captain," a voice said.
+
+He looked up. It was a giant of a man, with a hard face and
+brutal-looking eyes. He knew that face. Pietro! The giant of the tavern.
+
+"But you--"
+
+"I was aboard all the time, my captain," Pietro said. "An auxiliary
+rower. You never knew." He said nothing else. He lunged at Martin's
+bunk--for I'm Martin again, Danny thought--a knife gleaming in his big
+hand.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Martin-Danny sat up, bringing the covers with him, hurling them like a
+cloak at Pietro. The giant's knife-hand caught in the covers and Danny
+swung to his feet, shoving the big man. Pietro stumbled into the bunk,
+then lashed around quickly, unexpectedly, the knife loose again. Danny
+felt it grating across his ribs hotly, searingly. He staggered and
+almost fell, but somehow made it to the door and on deck. He needed
+room. Facing that knife in the close confines of the cabin, he was a
+dead man and knew it.
+
+He hit the stairs and headed for the deck. He reached the door--tugged.
+It held fast. He heard Pietro's laughter, then threw himself to one
+side. The knife thudded into the wood alongside Danny's shoulder.
+
+Then the door came open, throwing him back. He stumbled, regained his
+balance, plunged outside. With a roar, Pietro followed him, knife again
+in hand.
+
+Danny backed away slowly. Only a few crew members were on deck now, and
+a watch high up in the crow's nest. The watch was crying in an
+almost-delirious voice: "Land, land! Land ho-oo!" But Martin-Danny
+hardly heard the words. Pietro came at him--
+
+Suddenly Don Hernan was in front of him. Don Hernan's hand nipped up and
+then down and a knife arced toward Danny. He caught it by the haft,
+swung to face the giant. But, he thought, I don't know how to use a
+knife. I'm Danny Jones, I ...
+
+Pietro leaped, the knife down, held loosely at his side, underhanded,
+ready to slash and rip. Danny sidestepped and Pietro went by in a rush.
+Danny waited.
+
+Pietro came back carefully this time, crouching, balanced easily on the
+balls of his feet. For all his size, he fought with the grace of a
+dancer.
+
+Danny felt warm wetness where the blood was seeping from his ribs. Feet
+pounded as more of the crew came on deck in response to the watch's
+delirious words. Instead of crowding at the prow, though, they formed a
+circle around Danny and Pietro. Danny thought: But I'm the captain. The
+captain. They ought to help me ... they ... He knew though that they
+would not. They were a fierce, proud people and the law of single combat
+would apply even to the captain who had piloted them across an unknown
+ocean.
+
+Pietro came by, attempting to slash with his knife from outside. Danny
+moved quickly--not quick enough. The knife point caught his arm this
+time. He felt his hand go numb. His own knife clattered to the deck as
+blood oozed from his biceps.
+
+Once more Pietro charged him. Weaponless, Danny waited. Pietro was
+laughing, sure of himself--
+
+Careless.
+
+Danny slipped aside as Pietro brought the knife around in a wicked
+swipe. He spun with it and when he came around Danny was waiting for
+him. He drove his left fist into the great belly and his right to the
+big, bearded jaw. Pietro slumped, disbelief in his eyes. He swung the
+knife again but only succeeded in wrapping his giant arm around Danny.
+He bent his head, shook it to clear it of the sting of Danny's blows.
+And Danny rabbit-punched him.
+
+Pietro went down heavily and someone shouted. "The face! Kick him in the
+face!"
+
+Wearily, Danny shook his head. He went with Nina to the rail and saw the
+green palm-fringed island of the New World. Nina smiled at him, then
+ripped something from what she was wearing and began to bandage his
+ribs, his arm.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+They heard a splash. Danny looked around, saw Don Hernan and a member of
+the crew gazing serenely down. Pietro was down there, where they had
+tossed him. For a while the body floated, then the limbs splashed wildly
+as Pietro regained consciousness. He drifted back away from the ship. He
+went under, and came up. He went under again, and stayed under....
+
+"The Indies," Nina said.
+
+"The Indies," Danny said. He did not make the distinction between east
+and west. They must learn for themselves.
+
+The Pinta and the Santa Maria came up alongside. All thoughts of pursuit
+were gone. Columbus waved. He was very close now on the deck of the
+Santa Maria. There was something in his face, something changed.
+Columbus was a new man now. He had been shamed. He had followed his
+daughter and Martin Pinzon across an unknown ocean and he was changed
+now. Somehow, Danny knew he could now make voyages on his own.
+
+"Martin," Nina whispered. "They may say it was father. But it was you.
+I'll know in my heart, it was you."
+
+Danny nodded. She put her arm around his shoulder, and kissed him. He
+liked this slim girl--he liked her immensely, and it wasn't right. She
+wasn't his, not really. She was Martin Pinzon's. He let the Spaniard
+come to the surface, willed his own mind back and down and away. She's
+all yours, Pinzon, he told the other mind in his body. She--and this
+world. I'm a--stranger here.
+
+But once more he kissed Nina, fiercely, with passion and longing.
+
+"Goodbye, my darling," he said.
+
+"Goodbye! What--"
+
+He let Martin Pinzon take it from there. "Hello," said Martin Pinzon.
+"I mean, hello forever, darling."
+
+She laughed. "Goodbye to your bachelorhood, you mean."
+
+"Yes," he said. "Yes."
+
+But it was Martin Pinzon talking now. Completely Martin Pinzon.
+
+He was back in his grand-uncle's basement. He was in the trunk and he
+felt stiff. Mostly, his right arm and the right ribs felt stiff. He felt
+his shirt. It was caked with blood.
+
+Proof, he thought. If I needed proof. What happened to Pinzon happened
+to me.
+
+He stood up. He felt weak, but knew he would be all right. He knew about
+Columbus now. At first, a weak drunkard. But after the first voyage,
+thanks to Martin Pinzon and Nina, an intrepid voyager. For history said
+Columbus would make four voyages to the New World--and four he would
+make.
+
+Danny went outside, to where the lawyer was waiting for him. The trunk
+was Danny's now, the time trunk. And he would use it again, often. He
+knew that now, and it was wrong to deflate a dream.
+
+Columbus was a hero. He would never say otherwise again.
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Note:
+
+    This etext was produced from _Amazing Stories_ October 1956.
+    Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.
+    copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and
+    typographical errors have been corrected without note.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of My Shipmate--Columbus, by Stephen Wilder
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author	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 02:33:39 -0700
committer	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 02:33:39 -0700
commit	66d13f6f1e20b62f97441cb4fc62a8a01d2b2066 (patch)
tree	b8406b441e6fdef518a27b5350dffc9a911f54df