* * * * * _"Well," remarked Lanko as he snapped the tractor off. "That's the first handful of sand for the cook pot."_ * * * * * Sira Nal drummed impatiently on the table before him. "I thought you could handle routine operations," he said bitingly. "Now, you tell me you've been missing ship after ship. What happened to them?" The high priest shook his head. "We haven't been able to find out, sir." "Do you mean to tell me you haven't anything to report on them?" "We have sent out investigating ships, sir." "And?" "They haven't reported back, sir." Sira Nal's checks paled slightly with rage as he stared at his underling. "Miron," he snapped, "I'm not going to tell you exactly what to do, or how. You're supposed to know how to treat emergencies, not to call me any time something outside of routine happens. I want a report on those ships tomorrow morning." He glanced out of the window. "I don't care how you do it, but find out what happened, and I don't ever want to hear you admit again that you can't account for any ship I ask about. Is that clear?" Miron nodded unhappily. "Yes, sir." He bowed and backed out of the room. He forced himself to suppress his anger as he gently closed the door. Then, he stood for a moment, fists clenched, as he directed a furious gaze at the panels. "How?" he thought. "How does he expect me to know what's going on at sea unless ships come in to give me information, or I am able to go out personally. And how does he expect me to make a personal check in one night?" He started walking along the corridor. "I have no supernatural powers, and he knows it. He's the prophet. Wish I'd never--" He looked at the walls around him, then shook his head. No use thinking of that. None had ever successfully left the service of Kondaro. He continued to a stair, mounted it, then climbed ladders, to finally come out at the observation platform atop the temple. The observer bowed as his superior entered the little room just below the torch. "Have there been any arrivals?" "None, sir. I've seen no sails." "I am going to send you an acolyte. If you see anything, send him to me immediately." Miron turned to go back to his quarters. * * * * * After Miron's departure, Sira Nal sat for a time, still staring at the closed door. He had caught the wave of frustrated rage, and had almost responded for a second. But, he was forced to admit, the priest had justification. He had organized his forces adequately--had been a useful piece, within his limitations. "I wonder," mused Sira Nal, "if Buron's pulling a sneak punch." He tilted his head. "It would be a little foul, but he might try something like that." He reviewed the rules they had agreed upon.