WHEN THE WEATHER lifted three days later they found that they had dragged their anchor for a short distance. But not far enough to put them in danger, for the bay behind the Golden Gate was vast. Its southern lobe extended south as far as the eye could see, bounded on both sides by swelling hills, just turning from green to brown. The crew of Minerva now embarked on a strange program of eating California, beginning with the seaweed that floated off-shore, working their way through the mussel-beds and crab-flats of the intertidal zone, chewing tunnels into the scrub that clung to the beach-edge and perpetrating massacres of animals and birds. Foraging-parties would go out one after the next in the longboat, and half of them would stand guard with muskets and cutlasses while the others ransacked the place for food. Certain parts of the shoreline were defended by Indians who were not very happy to see them, and it took a bit of experimentation to learn where these were. The most dangerous part was the first five minutes after the longboat had been pulled up on the beach, when the men felt earth beneath their feet for the first time in four months, and stood there dumbfounded for several minutes, their ears amazed by the twittering of birds, the buzzing of insects, the rustle of leaves. Said Edmund de Ath: "It is like being a newborn babe, who has known nothing but the womb, suddenly brought forth into an unimagined world."

Elizabeth de Obregon emerged from her cabin for the first time since Jack had carried her in there, all wet and cold from the Pacific, on the night the Galleon burned. Edmund de Ath took her for a feeble promenade around the poop deck. Jack, lying on his bed directly beneath them, overheard a snatch of their conversation: "Mira, the bay seems to go on forever, no wonder they believed California was an island."

"It was your husband who proved them wrong, was it not, my lady?"

"You are too flattering, even for a Jesuit, Father Edmund."

"Pardon me, my lady, but I am a Jansenist."

"Yes, I meant to say Jansenist—my mind is still addled, and I cannot tell waking from dreaming sometimes."

"That promontory to the south of the Gate would be a brave place to build a city," said Edmund de Ath. "A battery there could control the narrows, and make this entire Bay into a Spanish lake, dotted with missions to convert all of these Indians."

"America is vast, and there are many nice places to build cities," said Elizabeth de Obregon dismissively.

"I know, but just look at this place! It's as if God put it here to be built on!"

They tottered onwards and Jack heard no more. Which was just as well—he'd heard enough. It was a type of clever, courtly conversation the likes of which he had not been forced to listen to since he'd left Christendom behind, and it filled him with the same old desire to run abovedecks and throw those people overboard.

As Elizabeth de Obregon ate of the fruits and greens of California and recovered her strength, she began to emerge from her cabin more frequently and even to join them in the officers' mess from time to time.

After Jack had related certain things to his partners, and after they'd allowed a day or two to pass, Moseh turned to Elizabeth one evening as they were dining, and remarked, "The situation of this Bay seems so fair that it will probably attract simpletons from all over the world…doubtless the Russians will throw up a fort on that promontory any year now."

Elizabeth looked politely amused at the reaction of Edmund de Ath, who turned red and began to chew his food very slowly. She turned to Moseh and said, "Pray tell, why wouldn't sophisticated men build here?"

"Ah, my lady, I would not bore you with the tedious speculations of the Cabbalists…"

"On the contrary, my family tree is full of conversos, and I love to steep myself in the wisdom of the rabbis."

"My lady, we are near the latitude of forty degrees. The golden rays of the sun, and silver rays of the moon, strike the surface of the globe at a glancing angle here, rather than shining down vertically onto the ground. Now it has been understood by Cabbalistickal sorcerers, ever since the days of the First Temple, that the diverse metals that grow in the earth, are created by certain rays that emanate from the various heavenly bodies, penetrate the Earth, and there combine with the Elements of Earth and Water to create gold, silver, copper, mercury, et cetera, depending on which Planet emanated the Ray. Videlicet, the rays of the Sun create Gold, those of the Moon Silver, et cetera, et cetera. And it follows naturally that Gold and Silver will be found most abundantly in sunny places near the Equator."

"The Alchemists of Christendom have either borrowed this insight from your Cabbalists, or discovered it on their own," said Elizabeth.

"As you know, Lady, the great metropolises of al-Andalus, Cordoba and Toledo, were crucibles in which the most learned men of Christendom, of dar al-Islam, and of the Diaspora commingled their knowledge…"

"I thought the function of a crucible was to purify and not to intermix," said Edmund de Ath, and then put on an angelic face.

"To fall into discussion of alchemichal arcana would be to do the lady a disservice," said Moseh. "She informs me that the sages of the King of Spain are well-acquainted with the nature and properties of the astrologickal emanations. Yet any half-wit who glances at a map could have inferred that that the Rey knows all about the rays, for it has ever been the wise policy of the Spanish Empire to follow the Line, and establish colonies in the auriferous belt where Sun and Moon beat straight down on the earth. Leave California and Alyeska to the wretched Russians, for gold will never be discovered in those places!"

"I confess I am somewhat taken a-back," said Edmund de Ath, "as I never dreamed until now that I was sharing a ship with a Cabbalistic sorcerer."

"Don't hang your head so, monsieur. The North Pacific is not generally considered a Jewish neighborhood…"

"What possessed you to venture out this way, sir?" asked Elizabeth de Obregon. The sight of land, and fresh food, had brought her back to life, and now this fencing-match between the Jansenist and the Jew was taking years off her age.

"My lady, you do me a favor to pretend interest in my obscure researches," said Moseh. "I'll return the kindness by being as brief as possible: there is an occult legend to the effect that King Solomon, after building the Temple on Mount Zion—"

"—journeyed far to the East and built a Kingdom on some island there," said Elizabeth de Obregon.

"Indeed. A kingdom of vast wealth to be sure, but—more importantly—an Olympian center for alchemical scholarship and Cabbalistic research. There the secrets of the Philosopher's Stone and the Philosophic Mercury were first brought to light—in fact, all the lucubrations of our modern-day Alchemists and Cabbalists are but a feeble attempt to pick over the scraps left behind by Solomon and his court magicians. After I had journeyed to the frontiers of learning during my youth, I reached the conclusion that I could only learn more by seeking out the Solomon Islands and going over them inch by inch."

Now it was Elizabeth's turn to become pink in the face. "Many have died trying to discover those islands, rabbi. If your tale is true, you are fortunate to be alive."

"No more fortunate than you, my lady."

Now Elizabeth de Obregon locked her gaze upon Moseh, and mystickal Rays passed back and forth between them for a while, until Edmund de Ath could not endure it any longer. He said, "Can you share your findings with us, sir, or must the results be locked up in some encyphered Torah somewhere?"

"The results are still resulting, sir, there is no definite report to be made."

"But you've left the Solomon Islands!"