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Pacific from the inland
rivers?”
    “It was a different kind of ship, sir. It
doesn’t go on water.”
    “A land ship, then? May I see it?”
    “Well, we’ve lost it.” That was when I saw
my opening. “But the lizard man may know where to find it. That is,
if he’s not harmed.”
    “I will give them the sternest instructions,
Master Sands, to bring this creature back alive.”
    “But he knows me, Mr. Jefferson. He trusts
me.”
    “But I cannot let you go. Aside from
possibly being an abolitionist, you are somewhat of a specimen
yourself.”
    “But, sir, I believe I offer the best hope
of actually bringing the lizard man back alive. Imagine the
scientific bonanza if you could talk to him yourself.”
    Jefferson looked at me with surprise and
suspicion. He shook his head, looked at the whiskey in his hand,
and set it down. “No, I really must stick with French wine. My time
in Paris spoiled me.” Then he turned back to me. “Perhaps that
seal-fur hat of yours has addled your brains, as well. Even if this
lizard talks , as the French trapper, and now you, claim, and
even if I let you go — how do I know you’ll return and not try to
escape with him? Or harm the expedition?”
    “That’s simple.” I decided to take another
chance. “I’m coming back for…Brassy. But you have to protect her.
You can’t turn her in.”
    That was all I could do to help Thea right
then. I hoped it was enough.
    Now the look on the president’s face was
only surprise. “I suppose I can let her join my household staff.
Sally will see to her.” He looked at me, sighed, then nodded. “I
will have Mr. Howard ride with you into St. Louis, and remand you
to the care of Captains Clark and Lewis. I will instruct them to
send you back downriver next spring, after you reach the Mandan
people.”
    “Can I see Brassy, sir? Before I go?”
    “Impossible. She’s with Sally, and were you
to visit her so openly, we’d just stir the pot and get everyone
upset. I shall keep her safe at Monticello until you return. We can
then work out the riddle of this escaped slave. Meanwhile, see that
you return, Master Sands. I could use a bona fide scientific
discovery to justify all this expense to Congress.”
    President Jefferson offered his hand.
“Welcome to America, lad.”
     
    “Biscuit barrel!” The words are screamed at
me, and I barely have time to get out of the way before the rolling
barrel would have knocked me into the river. It still catches my
leg with a sharp thump, and sends me sprawling on the wet pier.
    The rain is coming down much harder now.
    There are a whole bunch of us going — I’ve
counted forty in all. Plus Seaman. And I don’t know how they plan
to feed us: I’ve seen those “biscuits” and they’re like hard, flat,
stale crackers — pre-stale, really, so they can’t get in any worse
shape during a long journey. Besides the biscuits, they’re also
taking molasses, flour, a bunch of dried meat, whiskey, and brandy.
No juice boxes, no rice milk, no boxes of cereal— nothing for
me.
    Maybe I’ll be able to pick apples along the
way.
    There’s also something Lewis calls “portable
soup,” which is kind of thick and oozy and looks like it might
belong in a tar pit. I wonder if Lewis was in one of his gloomy
moods when he made it.
    As for drinking water, I guess the plan is
to actually drink the river water during the voyage. It’s kind of
amazing that there was ever a time you could just drink straight
from a river. I bet Lewis would get even gloomier if I told him
about all the pollution that was coming in the future.
    There are also lots of guns — the long, Nutcracker y old-fashioned ones. No beam or particle weapons
of any kind. These are gunpowder guns, where you have to stuff the
barrel with shot and powder and can only get off one blast at a
time.
    I wonder if people feel safer in this
period, when even the deadliest weapons move so slowly?
    I bet a lot of animals won’t feel so safe,
though, and