I wouldn't forget them, and to remind me to look forward to coming back. Nice, isn't it?" The katek was also associated with homecoming.
"There's an old story about the katek," Kyal said. Do you know it?"
"No . . . I can't say I've heard it. How does it go?"
"I heard it from my father a long time ago, when I was a boy. I'll tell you inside. Let's get some of that food first."
CHAPTER NINE
Kyal watched intently across the table as his father tied a line from a mast to the bowsprit of the model sailing schooner they had been making intermittently together for the past two months or more, and snipped off the end. His mother had explained to him how his father was always busy and in demand somewhere or other with his work, which made it all the more significant that he made the effort to spend times like these with his. They were among the times that Kyal treasured the most. It still amazed him that a man's thick, strong fingers were able to perform such delicate tasks.
"There," Jarnor pronounced. "Just tight enough t be tensioned. You did a neat job with the rigging while I was in Korbisan."
"When are we going to paint the bow ornaments?" Kyal asked.
"Oh, that comes later. Patience is one of the most important virtues for boys to work at, you know."
Kyal moved a tray of cut parts that were still to be added, and inspected the drawing of the bow that was given in the plans. "A fish and a bird holding a katek between them," he said.
"Yes. Do you want to use the colors it says, or shall we pick our own?"
"I'd like more blue."
"Very well." Jarnor began sorting out the pulley accessories.
"And what do you think about gold for the katek?"
"I think that would look very nice. . . . Have you heard the legend of the katek, Kyal?"
"No. What is it?"
"Oh, it goes back far into the past. It's supposed to hold an important secret. One of the great mysteries that we philosophers and scientists debate all day and write long books about that most people have better things to do than worry about is life and how it began, and where we come from."
"Who? You mean humans?"
"Yes. All of us. Supposedly the answer is there, contained in the katek. But nobody has ever been able to decode it."
Kyal looked at the character with a new interest.
But nothing obvious jumped out and hit him. "I thought it was just something that people hang on doors or write on labels when they wrap presents," Kyal said.
"That too. It also stands for good luck. . . . Can you start painting these pulleys? They need to be matt black. It means be safe, and come home safely.
"Is that's why there's one in the bow emblem of the boat?"
"Yes, very likely that's the reason. It says something about life too, you know."
"How?"
"Oh, the importance of things that are trusted and familiar. You hear these people today who are in such a hurry to change things they don't understand. They think anything new and different is exciting and must be better. And sometimes it's true. But it's also true that things came to be the way they are for good reasons. You should judge people who try to sell you their ideas and theories the way you do a cook. It's what comes out of the pot that matters, not what he says he's going to put in."
Kyal reflected on it while he unscrewed the cap of the paint bottle. "Is that the same legend as the Wanderers?" he asked.
"Yes. According to the myth, it was supposed to have been the Wanderers who wrote the secret code into the katek. But then people forgot what it was."
"How does it go, again?"
Jarnor grunted and smiled despairingly. "The Wanderers were the earliest people, but they didn't like the ways of the world, so they went to live on the Sun. But the Sun was too hot, so they went to live on the stars. But the stars were either too cold, or too small, or too hard, or too bright. . . . Always there was something. Eventually they came to a Place of Death that was the worst of all, and
"There's an old story about the katek," Kyal said. Do you know it?"
"No . . . I can't say I've heard it. How does it go?"
"I heard it from my father a long time ago, when I was a boy. I'll tell you inside. Let's get some of that food first."
CHAPTER NINE
Kyal watched intently across the table as his father tied a line from a mast to the bowsprit of the model sailing schooner they had been making intermittently together for the past two months or more, and snipped off the end. His mother had explained to him how his father was always busy and in demand somewhere or other with his work, which made it all the more significant that he made the effort to spend times like these with his. They were among the times that Kyal treasured the most. It still amazed him that a man's thick, strong fingers were able to perform such delicate tasks.
"There," Jarnor pronounced. "Just tight enough t be tensioned. You did a neat job with the rigging while I was in Korbisan."
"When are we going to paint the bow ornaments?" Kyal asked.
"Oh, that comes later. Patience is one of the most important virtues for boys to work at, you know."
Kyal moved a tray of cut parts that were still to be added, and inspected the drawing of the bow that was given in the plans. "A fish and a bird holding a katek between them," he said.
"Yes. Do you want to use the colors it says, or shall we pick our own?"
"I'd like more blue."
"Very well." Jarnor began sorting out the pulley accessories.
"And what do you think about gold for the katek?"
"I think that would look very nice. . . . Have you heard the legend of the katek, Kyal?"
"No. What is it?"
"Oh, it goes back far into the past. It's supposed to hold an important secret. One of the great mysteries that we philosophers and scientists debate all day and write long books about that most people have better things to do than worry about is life and how it began, and where we come from."
"Who? You mean humans?"
"Yes. All of us. Supposedly the answer is there, contained in the katek. But nobody has ever been able to decode it."
Kyal looked at the character with a new interest.
But nothing obvious jumped out and hit him. "I thought it was just something that people hang on doors or write on labels when they wrap presents," Kyal said.
"That too. It also stands for good luck. . . . Can you start painting these pulleys? They need to be matt black. It means be safe, and come home safely.
"Is that's why there's one in the bow emblem of the boat?"
"Yes, very likely that's the reason. It says something about life too, you know."
"How?"
"Oh, the importance of things that are trusted and familiar. You hear these people today who are in such a hurry to change things they don't understand. They think anything new and different is exciting and must be better. And sometimes it's true. But it's also true that things came to be the way they are for good reasons. You should judge people who try to sell you their ideas and theories the way you do a cook. It's what comes out of the pot that matters, not what he says he's going to put in."
Kyal reflected on it while he unscrewed the cap of the paint bottle. "Is that the same legend as the Wanderers?" he asked.
"Yes. According to the myth, it was supposed to have been the Wanderers who wrote the secret code into the katek. But then people forgot what it was."
"How does it go, again?"
Jarnor grunted and smiled despairingly. "The Wanderers were the earliest people, but they didn't like the ways of the world, so they went to live on the Sun. But the Sun was too hot, so they went to live on the stars. But the stars were either too cold, or too small, or too hard, or too bright. . . . Always there was something. Eventually they came to a Place of Death that was the worst of all, and
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