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wouldn’t happen to be gods, would you?” inquired the old man.
    “No, sir,” said Lewis. “Only servants of a god.”
    “Ah,” said the old man. “Well, that would explain the mud all over you. Tell me, children, is the lord Maketaurie Guyuaba anywhere about?”
    “Er—no,” said Lewis, doing a fast access on Taino mythology. Maketaurie Guyuaba: lord of Coaybay (land of the dead) beyond the sunset. Hastily he transmitted the reference to Mendoza.
    “What a pity,” said the old man, cocking an eye at the hilltop. “I had so hoped to speak to someone important. That would be his camp, up there, where his effulgence shone out the other evening?”
    “No, sir, that’s our camp,” said Lewis. “The, er, effulgence was a sort of lamp, this one in fact,” and Mendoza held it up, “but I’m afraid it washed down the hill in the storm, and we’ve just been digging it out.”
    “ Your lamp?” The old man looked askance at them, mildly amused. “Yes, very likely indeed. You’d best get the mud cleaned off it, children, or your master will beat you. I know what servants will get up to, when the lord of the house is away. When may I find him at home?”
    “I’m afraid he lives—er—that way,” said Lewis, waving an arm, “Many moons—ah—quite a long distance off. He sent us here on a great bird to, er…”
    Gather plants for him , transmitted Mendoza.
    “Gather plants for him, and he’s sending the bird back to collect us in a few days,” Lewis finished.
    “A great bird. I see,” said the old man, in a tone of polite disdain. He coughed delicately and said: “The fact is, I had hoped to consult with him on a matter of some importance.”
    “We would be happy to deliver a message to him,” said Lewis.
    “I wonder if you might,” said the old man. “Would you just let him know that a fellow deity wishes to discuss a matter of mutual advantage?”
    Lewis and Mendoza exchanged glances.
    Company business, transmitted Lewis. We’ve encountered a member of a previously-unknown culture. We’re supposed to investigate and report back to Dr. Zeus, so they can send an evaluation team.
    But we’re not anthropologists! protested Mendoza.
    We’re Preservers, all the same. And, after all, how many people get a chance to discover a fabulous lost civilization?
    Hmf. And if we don’t investigate, we’ll get nailed with a Section Sixteen, won’t we? Damn. So much for a vacation away from mortals.
    “Of course, sir,” said Lewis to the mortal. “In the meanwhile, may we be of any assistance? Our master has given us some power to act for him.”
    “Has he?” The old mortal considered them, looked at the gear scattered about. “Perhaps.”
    “May we speak directly to the god?” Lewis inquired. The old man raised his eyebrows.
    “Child, you are speaking to a god. I am Orocobix, Lord of Abundance.”
    Lewis gaped and then knelt, grabbing Mendoza’s arm in his descent to compel her to kneel, too.
    “Pardon our ignorance, Lord Orocobix,” he said.
    I’m kneeling to a mortal… Mendoza ground her teeth. The old mortal gaped, too, and then smiled. He drew himself upright, holding the pole like a scepter.
    “Rise, children rise. You may be forgiven; you’re dead, after all. However—” and he looked again at their gear “—you might want to present me with a suitable offering…?”
    Lewis glanced over his shoulder. With great presence of mind he ran and fetched the case of bottled water.
    “Please accept this, great Orocobix! Pure water in conveniently reusable containers,” he said.
    “How nice,” said Orocobix. “Perhaps the lamp as well.”
    But I borrowed it from Pan Li in Accounting!
    Can’t be helped. Technically it’s Company property, you know.
    “Certainly, great Orocobix,” said Lewis, bowing. “Will you permit us to accompany you to your sacred place, bearing these gifts for you?”
    “Yes,” said the old mortal, “I think that would be best.” He retreated to the stern