The Knights of Arthur

by Frederik Pohl

I looked at Engdahl.

He said defensively: “Honest, Sam, I thought it was oil. It smelled like oil. How was I to know—”

“Shut up,” I said.

He shrugged, injured. “But it’s all right, Sam. No fooling. There are plenty of other tankers around. Plenty. Down toward the Amboys, maybe moored out in the channel. There must be. We’ll find them.”

“No,” I said. “You will.”

And that was all I said, because I am forgiving by nature; but I thought a great deal more.

Surprisingly, though, he did find a tanker with a full load, the very next day.

It became a question of getting the tanker to the Queen. I left that part up to Vern, since he claimed to be able to handle it.