Alan felt distressed. Should he tell the Jkak of his encounter with Kulmervan? Had he obeyed his first impulse and confided in the kindly old man, he would have saved both himself and Chlorie from much suffering. As it was—well, who can tell which is always the right course to take? Errors are made, and paid for in suffering, even in a Perfect World.
“Is it far, my Jkak, to Hoormoori?”
“Forty Kymos will take you there.”
“Forty Kymos—about twenty of our earth days! It is quite a long way then?”
“Ah, my friend, you have no idea of the size of our planet.”
“And yet you are all one nation—with the same customs and religion and speech! It is hard to comprehend, my Jkak, for at home on our little islands, we were composed of four distinct races.”
“The Ipso-Rorka will board the Chlorie immediately,” said the Jkak. “Now Mitzor be with you. Farewell.”
There was no sign of the Princess when Alan boarded the ship, neither was Kulmervan to be seen, but he was surprised to find Waiko lounging on the deck. He gave Alan a cursory nod of recognition as he passed, but did not rise or offer any greeting.
“Don’t you know Waiko?” asked Y-Kjesta in some surprise.
“Why of course. I met him at Kulmervan’s party.”