Monsters and Magicians by Robert Adams

lifted him frorp his feet and hurled him overboard.
    "The ship had just then been steaming somewhere, he thinks, near the fiftieth parallel and the water was icy-cold, so he knew that he would not last for long immersed in it, nor did his frantic shouts apparently reach any ears aboard the ship. He could only keep swimming in her direction even as her lights drew farther and farther away to the eastward.
    "He says that his body was beginning to stiffen with the deep cold, despite the heat engendered by his exertions, when he suddenly spied a sharp rising and falling. He thought it a mirage until he reached it, felt its solidity and realized that it was truly a half-swamped wooden boat. Once he had hauled himself aboard, he found the twenty-foot boat to be severely battered, oarless and half-full of water, although her hull seemed sound and her seams relatively tight. During his search for oars, he found a scoop and began to energetically bail out the boat. When he had gotten the water level low enough, he decided that this must have been some ship's lifeboat, for a waterproof locker in the bow contained biscuit, water, brandy and some other basic foodstuffs, a German-made flare pistol and a half-dozen flares for it. In a twin compartment at the stern was another supply of fresh water and biscuit, some simple fishing gear, a rubberized raincape and a rainhat.
    "But, though provided with water and food, he had no means of propelling the boat and could but go wherever the winds and seas willed. Therefore, after he had partaken sparingly of his provisions, he rolled himself in the slicker—which item, having been cut

    for a large Caucasian, was more than expansive enough for his shorter, more slender stature—and sank at once into the sleep of exhaustion."
    Once yet again, she rubbed at her forearms and said, "Now, Pedro, you can believe this next or not. Mr. Hara believes it and . . . and I do, too ... I think. But it's screwy and spooky and . . . and . . . Well, anyway, here's what he told me.
    "He says that the warm sun on his face wakened him and he sat up to a heart-stopping shock: he was no longer alone in the boat. Not only was he not alone, the man now seated on a thwart was known to him, though he had assumed him dead, drowned with all the rest of the crew of his ill-fated light-cruiser, storm-sunk in the Yellow Sea far to the west, His companion was none other than the Japanese naval officer—the Buddhist monk who had urged him, begged him to forbear from ordering the two great sea-monsters fired upon on the morning before the death of his ship and crew!
    "At the first, Mr. Hara believed himself to be dreaming, still asleep or at least half-asleep and dreaming, but then, realizing that he was, indeed, fully awake, he could only sit, stunned, for a moment. Then he politely asked, 'Lieutenant Shimaszu, are you then a gen, an apparition come to haunt me?"
    "The man, who was not in naval uniform but rather garbed in the robes of his religious calling, bespoke Mr. Hara in a sad, gentle voice, saying, 'Honorable Captain, I am yet in the body, I too survived the shipwreck; no, I am no ghost, but neither am I truly with you here. You see but £ projection of my body, a projection accomplished with the aid of some very

    learned and holy men. I am come to tell you of yourself, of your future life, that you will give over trying to end it abruptly.
    " 'No matter what you may attempt, you see, it will be in vain, for by your deeds you have condemned yourself to life, life that can end only when you have redeemed those cruel deeds by way of actions which are preordained."
    "Mr. Hara says that he then shook his head and avowed his complete mystification, his utter lack of understanding. He says that the likeness of Lieutenant Shimaszu then told him, "Honorable Captain, I am forbidden to further enlighten you at this time, for you must gain wisdom that you now lack before you could hope to truly understand. You must seek out and