"And this I am to discover from Valdemar?"

"By way of Ligeia, yes." He stopped writing for a moment and looked at me. "If you have any problems," he said then, "I recommend you talk to Dirk Peters. While it is true that his manner is rude, his formal education nonexistent, and his appearance uncouth, he is totally trustworthy and very shrewd.

No one aboard this ship would dare to cross him."

"I can well believe it," I said.

I returned to the decanter, bore it across the room to the workbench, where I appropriated a decent-sized glass. I filled it and took a drink. I saw then that Ellison had paused in his writing and was watching me.

He shook his head and looked away.

"Amazing," he said. I took another swallow. Then he asked, "Is there some problem?"

"Yes," I replied. "This means I'll be taking off without leave from Fort Moultrie."

"So it does," he said. "Do you really think they would grant you leave for an enterprise of this nature? Or that you'd even have time to request it?"

"No," I answered. "I understand the situation. But I've enjoyed my service, in the main, and I don't want to end it looking like a deserter. I want to write a letter to my Commanding Officer, requesting leave and explaining how I've serious personal matters to attend to."

He appeared to ponder it for a moment, then smiled again.

"Very well," he said. "Compose your letter and I will take it with me when I go ashore and see that it is delivered. Of course you must sign it 'Edgar Allan Poe.' "

"I didn't think of that—" I began.

"On the other hand, I can speak to a senator of my acquaintance and arrange for your immediate discharge."

"Perhaps that would be preferable... ."

"Settled then. I'll have the papers waiting for you at Arnheim when you return with the good news."

He winked and returned to his writing. I paced, sorting my thoughts. After a time, I cleared my throat.