Jelle had once fought for Greater Europe and was rewarded with hard labor, building a road through the jungle of a useless colony. Doeke was still fighting for peace in Amsterdam's inner city and wasn't rewarded at all. All human bravery leads nowhere; Jelle had known that truth for a while; Doeke still cherished ideals. Doeke didn't know that Jelle had been a well-meaning traitor. He didn't know either that Jelle had been born in Hallum, a village close to Doeke's own Menaldum. When asked, Jelle would place his origins in Anjum, a small town well away from the truth. The farther the better. Doeke knew no one in Anjum.

The exiled Jelle comforted Doeke, who served humanity abroad. The barkeeper's silence soothed the younger man.

Jelle's patient quietness and the jenever's glow now wanned Doeke's soul from a hot point in his stomach; ambling about, he had reached the Inner Harbor, where nothing was in view except an expanse of gray, swelling water. The gray movement reminded him of shreds of fog that had caressed the windows of his parents' little house, in the dreamtime when he was secure in his father's embrace.

There he stood, legs apart, hands on his back, staring peacefully across the low, slow waves.

Something should happen now, Doeke thought, something pleasant. Perhaps he expected a glorious vision. Alcohol releases brakes, liberates happy insights that will flame from the soul and burn away the daily pain.

When exactly did he see the floating fire? Doeke couldn't remember later on, when he had to admit, somewhat sillily, while being interrogated by detectives, that his perception had been rather foggy, due to his abuse of herb-flavored liquor.

Something was burning, the sharp flames cutting through the fog, and the something was moving along with the slow swell of the waves. Doeke had been raised religiously, and remembered that the Dear Lord, in early times, was known to walk on water; there had also been a burning bush of brambles, and angels were about, carrying burning swords. It was therefore quite believable that Doeke associated the happening of that night with heavenly instruction, and that he hadn't immediately thought of an ordinary fire. A fire on a ship? No-he was focusing now-on a small boat.