“This must be very convenient on long voyages,” he said.
“Uh. Yes?” said the captain.
“From the provisions point of view,” said Vorbis.
"My lord, I don't quite-
“It must be like having a traveling larder,” said Vorbis.
The captain smiled. “Oh no, lord. We don't eat them.”
“Surely not? They look quite wholesome to me. ”
"Oh, but you know the old saying, lord . . .
“Saying?”
"Oh, they say that after they die, the souls of dead sailors become-
The captain saw the abyss ahead, but the sentence had plunged on with a horrible momentum of its own.
For a while there was no sound but the zip of the waves, the distant splash of the porpoises, and the heaven-shaking thundering of the captain's heart.
Vorbis leaned back on the rail.
“But of course we are not prey to such superstitions,” he said lazily.
“Well, of course,” said the captain, clutching at this straw. "Idle sailor talk. If ever I hear it again I shall have the man flog-
Vorbis was looking past his ear.
“I say! Yes, you there!” he said.
One of the sailors nodded.
“Fetch me a harpoon,” said Vorbis.
The man looked from him to the captain and then scuttled off obediently.
“But, ah, uh, but your lordship should not, uh, ha, attempt such sport,” said the captain. "Ah. Uh. A harpoon is a dangerous weapon in untrained hands, I am afraid you might do yourself an injury-
“But I will not be using it,” said Vorbis.
The captain hung his head and held out his hand for the harpoon.
Vorbis patted him on the shoulder.
“And then,” he said, “you shall entertain us to lunch. Won't he, sergeant?”
Simony saluted. “Just as you say, sir.”
“Yes.”
Brutha lay on his back among sails and ropes somewhere under the decking. It was hot, and the air smelled of all air anywhere that has ever come into contact with bilges.
Brutha hadn't eaten all day. Initially he'd been too ill to. Then he just hadn't.
“But being cruel to animals doesn't mean he's a . . . bad person,” he ventured, the harmonics of his tone suggesting that even he didn't believe this. It had been quite a small porpoise.