A Hero for Leanda

Conway sat hunched over the tiller, his face wooden. Presently Kastella said, “I know what you’re thinking, Conway .”
    “I’m thinking you’ve lost a supporter,” Conway said.
    “That’s not all.... You’re thinking how you can get this gun away from me.”
    “Maybe.”
    “I’d be surprised if you weren’t! Then, when you’d got it, you could go back and find the ketch and tow it into Victoria . You’re an obstinate man.”
    “I’m a careless one,” Conway said. “I ought to have thought of the gun.”
    “Well, you didn’t—and now it’s too late. You won’t get it away from me—I shall see to that. I’ve handled guns before, you know.”
    “That’s pretty obvious.”
    “During the war, when I was in the Resistance, I learned all the tricks.... It’s as well you should know. In any case, in a few hours it’ll be impossible for you to go back to the ketch, because you wouldn’t be able to find it again. Am I right?”
    “I guess so.”
    “In a few hours, then, perhaps we shall be able to come to a sensible understanding... ?”
    Conway said nothing. He continued to sit crouched over the tiller, his face a mask of blankness.

    It was a fantastically strained night. At dusk, Kastella took up a position on the coach roof, with a supply of food and water—and the gun. From there, he could command the cockpit in safety and make sure that Conway didn’t attempt to change course. Leanda prepared food for Conway and herself and did her two-hour stints at the tiller as before, but she hardly spoke a word. She had the dazed look of someone whose whole world had suddenly crumbled about her. Conway was silent, too, watching for any slip on Kastella’s part. Once, just before a change-over, he thought he saw Kastella’s head droop on his chest and took an experimental step away from the tiller—but the gun came up at once, and he didn’t try it again. The engine beat steadily on. The flat calm persisted.
    At dawn, Conway took star sights and worked out their position. They had covered ninety-six miles during the night and were more than three hundred miles from Heureuse. Leanda prepared breakfast in silence. Her eyes were red—she looked as though she had been crying.
    When the meal was ready, Kastella waved her to the stern with Conway and climbed cautiously down and backed into the saloon. He breakfasted with the gun pointing out of the door. Then he returned to the coach roof. He looked a bit tired, but he was still in full command. Conway topped up the fuel and checked the supply in the spare tanks. The engine was doing well, using less than he’d expected. Leanda went listlessly through the essential jobs below. The day was already blazing hot, without a breath of wind. Waves of heat came up from the engine; waves of heat poured down through the awning that Conway had rigged again. On the coach roof, Kastella had pulled out a corner of the stowed mainsail and made himself a bit of shade.
    It was Conway who broke the long, suffocating silence. “Well,” he said, “I reckon those people on the ketch will soon be down to their last pint or two if this goes on.”
    Leanda said, “ Don’t, Mike—I can’t bear it.”
    "It’s going to be a sizzling day,” Conway said, looking at Kastella. “Those kids’ll be in a bad way before long. Especially the one with the cut head. They’ll soon be as dried up as their shark meat.”
    Kastella stirred. “There’s no point in dwelling on it, Conway .”
    “We could still go back,” Conway said. “We might find them.... How would you like to die of thirst, Kastella ?“
    “What’s done is done,” Kastella said. “It’s all over.”
    “All over?” Conway shook his head. “I should say it’s just beginning for you! When the news gets out that you deliberately left five people to die of thirst, your reputation in Spyros is going to be damaged quite a bit.”
    Kastella said, “Heureuse is a long way from Spyros .“
    “Sure—but news travels.”
    “If this news travels,” Kastella said, “it will travel by way of the English—and in Spyros nobody ever believes what the English say. They’ve been trying to blacken me ever since I took over the leadership—there’s never a week goes by without them thinking up some new accusation. My people never pay any attention—they know it’s all propaganda. The reaction’s automatic—and it will be the same this time. So you see , I’m not at all worried about the news getting