A Hero for Leanda

misery. It wasn’t until well after midday that the wind began to take off a little and the sea to moderate. Then everyone fell into an exhausted sleep. When Conway woke, it was nearly four o’clock. Stiff and bruised, he went outside to look at the weather. The wind had fallen to a gentle breeze, and the sun was shining. The sea was still heaving after the storm, but all the viciousness had gone out of it. Thalia, without any canvas to steady her, was rolling uneasily in the swell.
    Leanda was awake when he returned to the saloon. A little color had crept back into her cheeks, and she smiled at him.
    “Better?” he asked.
    “Much better... Mike, I thought I should die! Is that what you call the doldrums?”
    Conway chuckled. He was feeling on pretty good terms with himself. “I’d say that gale was a bit of a freak. All those atom bombs, you know!”
    They began to straighten up the disorder in the saloon. Presently Kastella appeared. His face looked gray, but he managed a feeble grin. “Well, are we still afloat?” he said.
    “Yes, and the right way up!”
    “It’s hard to believe.... What an absolutely dreadful night!”
    “We did get quite a pasting,” Conway said.
    Kastella ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you any help.”
    “There was nothing to do,” Conway said. “The wind took charge, and we just blew.”
    “Not back toward Heureuse, I hope?”
    “No, away from it.”
    “Ah!” Kastella looked relieved. “As long as we’re still making progress... Where do you think we are?”
    “I’ll be able to tell you at dusk,” Conway said. “Now let’s have some food—I’m ravenous.”
    While Leanda prepared the meal, Conway stowed the sea anchor and warps and squared up on deck. By the time they’d eaten, the sun was beginning to go down. As the sky darkened and the first stars came out, Conway took sights from the uneasily rolling cockpit and worked out a rough position. They had been carried just over ninety miles during the twenty-four hours, in a direction slightly north of west.
    There was still enough light in the cockpit for the final chores. The ship was out of drinking water, and Leanda brought the filter bags and box of chemical cubes into the cockpit to make a fresh supply, while Kastella did the washing up in the galley and Conway prepared to get under way. The wind was light and very uncertain again, but it seemed to be mainly from the east. Conway freed the sheet and hoisted the sail and the boom swung slowly out to starboard. He returned to the tiller and hauled in the sheet and the sail filled. They were away.
    The disaster that followed was totally unexpected. Conway felt the boom lift as the wind shifted behind the sail. He just failed to prevent a jibe, but it wasn’t a serious one. The boom swung over quite gently, well clear of Leanda’s head. She was standing by the port rail, taking a chemical cube from the box. She ducked to avoid the sheet, but the slack of it tangled with her. A moment later the box of chemicals had been jerked from her hand and carried over the side.

    The instant Conway realized what had happened he let go of the sheet and tiller and leaped for the gunwale. But the box had already disappeared, swallowed up in the dark sea. For a second he continued to gaze down in horror. Then he turned to Leanda. “My God,” he said softly, “that’s done it!”
    “Mike, I wasn’t expecting it...” She stood biting her lips, trying not to cry. “Oh, Mike, what are we going to do?” Kastella appeared in the lighted doorway of the saloon. “What’s the trouble, Leanda?”
    “I’ve dropped all the cubes into the sea—the things we use to make drinking water.”
    “Well, we’ve got some other water, I suppose.”
    “Five gallons,” Conway said, “in the emergency tank .“
    “ Five gallons! You mean that’s all—in the whole ship ?“
    “A little less, if anything. I used some during the night.” Kastella’s face darkened with anger. “My God, what folly!” He turned venomously on Leanda. “Do you realize what your clumsiness may cost us?”
    “Shut up!” Conway said roughly. “It wasn’t Leanda’s fault. It was mine if it was anybody’s—I should have foreseen it.... Anyway, it’s done. Cursing isn’t going to help,” There was a short silence. Then Kastella said in a quieter tone, “How long will five gallons last us?”
    “It depends on the weather.... Four or five days, perhaps.