Anketam shook his head positively. "I'm afraid the sun would do you in, anyway."
"Maybe you'd like The Chief to carry you," said Blejjo. There was a bite in his voice.
"Now, wait," Basom said apprehensively, "I didn't say anything like that. I didn't mean it that way."
Blejjo pointed his fishing pole at the youth. "You ought to be thankful you've got Anketam for a supervisor. There's some supers who'd boot you good for a crack like that."
Basom cast appealing eyes at Anketam. "I am thankful! You know I am! Why, you're the best super in the barony! Everybody knows that. I was only kidding. You know that."
Before Anketam could say anything, the old man said: "You can bet your life that no other super in this barony would put up with your laziness!"
"Now, Blejjo," said Anketam, "leave the boy alone. He meant no harm. If he needs talking to, I'll do the talking."
Basom looked gratefully reprieved.
"Sorry, Ank," said Blejjo. "It's just that some of these young people have no respect for their elders." He looked at Basom and smiled. "Didn't mean to take it out on you, Bas. There's a lot worse than you." Then, changing his tone: "Sure you don't want to come with us?"
Basom looked apologetic, but he stuck to his guns. "No. Thanks again, but—" He grinned self-consciously. "To be honest, I was thinking of going over to see Zillia. Her dad said I could come."