"Remind me never to eat another raw oyster," I said. "On second thought you won't have to. You've ruined my appetite for them forever."
Bergdorf chuckled.
"Well, now that you've disposed of one of my eating habits," I said bitterly, "let's get back to the problem. I presume that you'll have to find where the oysters are before you start in working them over with starfish."
"You've hit the reason why I'm here. That's the big problem. I want to find their source."
"Don't you know?"
"I can make a pretty good guess. You see, we picked this limb out of the Equatorial current. As you know, Varnel Island is situated right at the western termination of the current. We don't get much littoral stuff unless it comes from the Islands or West Beta. And as far as I can figure the islands are the best bet. These spat probably came from the Piralones, that island group in the middle of the current about halfway across."
I nodded. "It would be a good bet. They're uninhabited. If Harl wanted an isolated spot to conduct oyster planting experiments, I couldn't think of a better location. Nobody in his right mind would visit that place willingly. The islands support the damnedest assortment of siths you ever saw."
"If that's where it is," Bergdorf said, "we can thank heaven for the natives' suspicious nature. That location may help us save this world!"
I laughed at him. "Don't be so grim, Heinz—or so godlike. We're not going to save any worlds."
"Someone has to save them."