He sipped hesitantly. It was a fine red, probably from a chateau near Saint-Emilion judging by the quality. “My captor has good taste.â€? The situation could be worse.

“Only the best on my boat.â€? Anso watched her carefully. She was here no doubt to loosen his tongue about the functioning of his machina, but he suspected he would be able to outdrink her, judging from the blush upon her perfect cheekbones.

“So if your crew are not Mohammedans, then what are they?â€? Anso asked.

She smiled wryly. “It is an interesting story, which I will gladly tell you in exchange for some information about your machine.â€? So much for avoiding the question, Anso thought. At least he could save them from setting the ship on fire by telling them about the quintessence pack.

“Fair enough. The item with the foul smell that you were poking around earlier is the source of power for my device. Similar devices were used by Priests of Sumer to energize statues and automata of their gods. I have simply adapted it to my own purposes.â€?