"Yes, then, you’re right. Except that the eyeball is the rocky sphere of our world, and the thin coat of sugar is the water that covers almost all of the surface."

"All right," said Keenir. "I don’t accept this for an instant, you understand, but at least I can picture what you’re talking about."

Afsan nodded concession, then went on. "Now, then, how big is our world?"

"Surely that’s impossible to tell."

"No, Captain. Forgive me, but we have all the information we need to make the calculation. As you remarked earlier, we are sitting still beneath the Face of God. If we don’t move the ship, the Face doesn’t appear to move at all. It is only the movement of this vessel that causes the Face to apparently rise or set. Therefore, we can use the speed of the Dasheter as our measuring stick to calculate how far we’ve sailed around the world. You yourself told us it was a four-thousand-kilopace journey from the point at which the Face of God was just below the horizon to when it was just above."

"Aye, I did say that. Thirty-two days sailing."

"Well, if it takes thirty-two days for the Face to rise by its own height, we must in those thirty-two days have sailed one-eighth of the circumference of the world."

"How do you figure that?"

"Well, the Face covers a quarter of the sky, and the sky is a hemisphere — a half circle."

"Oh, right. Of course. If the Face covers a quarter of a half, it therefore covers an eighth of the whole. Yes, I see that."

"And the angles subtended by the Face…"

"I said I saw it, eggling. I’m a mariner; I know all about measuring sky angles for navigation."

Afsan cringed, bowed quickly, then pressed on. "Now, it took thirty-two days to sail the four thousand kilopaces needed for the Face to rise by its own height. Thus, in thirty-two days we sailed one-eighth of the way around the world. Therefore the circumference of the world is eight times four thousand kilopaces, or thirty-two thousand kilopaces."

Keenir nodded dubiously.

Afsan continued. "And it took us 113 days to get from Capital City to the point at which we first saw the leading edge of the Face on the horizon." Afsan blinked once, doing the math. "That’s 3.53 times as long as it took to sail one-eighth of the world’s circumference. So, in that part of the voyage, we must have sailed 3.53 times one-eighth of the way around the world." Afsan blinked again. "That’s just under halfway around; 44.125 percent, to be precise." He clicked his teeth lightly. "Of course, that’s too many places of accuracy."

Keenir was deadpan. "Of course."

"And we’ve sailed even farther now — enough to let the Face rise all the way to the zenith."

"So you would have me believe that we’ve sailed about halfway around the world," said Keenir.

"Just about halfway, yes. Land is on the other side of the world from here, permanently facing away from the Face of God."

"The other side of the world," Keenir said slowly.

"That’s right. And, good Captain, consider this: we could continue sailing eastward from here and reach Land again by coming right around the world, in no more time than it took to get here in the first place."

Afsan beamed triumphantly, but Keenir just shook his head. "What nonsense."

Afsan forgot his manners. "It is not nonsense! It is the only answer that fits the observations!"

"A pre-fact? Is that what you called it? Your pre-fact is that the world is round, and that we’ve sailed halfway around it?"

"Yes! Exactly!"

"And you now want to test your pre-fact by having me order us to continue on to the east?"

"Yes!"

Keenir shook his head again. "Lad, first, I don’t agree with your interpretation. Second, the journey out is hard; we’ve been constantly sailing into the wind. It will be a lot easier going home by simply turning around and scooting directly back, so, even if you are right — and I don’t believe you are — we gain nothing by going your way. Third, we don’t have enough supplies to last for more than a few extra days. We can’t risk that you are wrong."

"Ah, but if I am right, we do gain, Captain. We gain knowledge…"

Keenir made an unpleasant sound.

"And…" Suddenly Afsan saw a new angle. "And we vastly simplify future pilgrimages. For if the world is round, and the winds run in the same direction around the entire sphere, as I suspect they do, at least here in the band farthest from the sphere’s northern and southern poles, then one could sail to the west to reach the Face, with the wind at your back the entire way. And, to return, one could continue on to the west, again with the wind at your back. Think of the savings!"

"A pilgrimage is not about saving time, eggling. Our goal is to retrace the prophet’s journey, to see the spectacle as he saw it. And, beyond that, consider what you’re asking, lad! God lives upriver from Land, watching out for obstacles and dangers ahead. She protects us. You’re suggesting that we sail ahead, moving in front of God, into waters that She has not first observed. We’d be without Her protection, without Her blessing."

"But…"

"Enough!" Keenir raised his hand again, and this time the claws were fully extended. "Enough, eggling! I’ve been more than patient. We will head home as planned."

"But, Captain…"

The deck shook as Keenir slammed his walking stick into the floorboards. "I said enough! Eggling, you are lucky I’m not a priest; I’d have you doing penances for the rest of your life. You’re talking not just nonsense, but sacrilege. I’ve got a mind to turn you over to Det-Bleen for some remedial training."

Afsan bowed his head. "I meant no disrespect."

"Perhaps you didn’t." Keenir’s tone softened. "I’m not a particularly religious person, Afsan. Most sailors aren’t, you know. It’s just not in our blood. Superstitious, perhaps — we’ve seen things out here that would chill a regular person to the soul. But not religious, not in a formal way. But the kind of silliness you’re spouting just doesn’t make sense. Keep it to yourself, boy. You’ll have an easier life."

"I’m not looking for an easy way out," said Afsan, but softly. "I just…" But suddenly Keenir’s head snapped up. "What is it?"

The captain hissed Afsan into silence. Barely audible over the creaking of the ship, over the slapping of the waves, came a cry. "Kal!"

And, moments later, the same cry in another voice, louder, nearer: "Kal!"

Then again and again, as if being passed along: "Kal!" "Kal!" "Kal!" And the sound of heavy footfalls thundering along the deck.

Keenir jumped to his feet, fumbling with his walking stick.

There was the sound of claws on copper from outside his door. "Yes!" shouted Keenir.

A breathless mate appeared, her face haggard. "Permission to…"

"Yes, yes," Keenir snapped.

"Sir, Paldook up in the lookout bucket has spotted Kal-ta-goot!"

Keenir brought his hands together. "At last! At last it’ll pay for what it did! Unfurl the sails, Tardlo. Give chase!"

The old captain hurried from his quarters up onto the deck, leaving Afsan standing there, mouth agape.