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diff --git a/27019-h/27019-h.htm b/27019-h/27019-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..91827a1 --- /dev/null +++ b/27019-h/27019-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2659 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of My Shipmate—Columbus, by Stephen Wilder + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + h1,h2 {text-align: left; clear: both; font-weight: normal;} + hr {width: 45%; margin: 1em auto; clear: both; visibility: hidden;} + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .blockquot {margin: 2em 10%;} + .figcenter {margin: 1em auto; text-align: center; width: 600px;} + .trn {border: solid 1px; margin: 3em 15%; padding: 1em; text-align: justify;} + img {border: none;} + p.cap:first-letter {float: left; margin-right: .05em; padding-top: .05em; font-size: 300%; line-height: .8em;} + .dcap {text-transform: uppercase;} + .p1 {text-align: center; margin-top: 2em;} +// --> +/* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<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—<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—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."</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—"</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—"</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—"</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—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."</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—"</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—well—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—you know, +an image-breaker—"</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—"</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—"</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—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.</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—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?"</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—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—"</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—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—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—after +all—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—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—Uncle +Averill's voice—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—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.</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—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—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—some<i>when</i> +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.</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—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—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—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—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—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—or Danny Jones—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—"</p> + +<p>"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—"</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—"</p> + +<p>"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."</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—"</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—"</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—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.</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—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—"</p> + +<p>"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...."</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—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.</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—"</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—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—"</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—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."</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—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—"</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—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—"</p> + +<p>"There's wine on the Santa +Maria," Danny whispered. +"Much wine—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—"</p> + +<p>"With Martin Pinzon. If—if +my own father can't look +after me, then Martin can."</p> + +<p>"But you—" Danny began.</p> + +<p>"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."</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—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—"</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—"</p> + +<p>"And doesn't want to see +anything happen to you?"</p> + +<p>"But—"</p> + +<p>"And believes the world is +flat and if you sail far enough +west you'll fall off?"</p> + +<p>"But I—"</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—"</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—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—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—" 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—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—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—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—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—"</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—for +I'm Martin again, Danny +thought—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—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—</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—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—</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—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.</p> + +<p>But once more he kissed +Nina, fiercely, with passion +and longing.</p> + +<p>"Goodbye, my darling," he +said.</p> + +<p>"Goodbye! What—"</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—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 + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY SHIPMATE--COLUMBUS *** + +***** This file should be named 27019-h.htm or 27019-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/7/0/1/27019/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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