Nobody spoke much as I recorded the items in my notebook. We knew the food and water would not sustain us much longer. We have made vain attempts at catching fish—from trying to club them to trying to grab them over the raft sides—but without a hook, there is not much chance. I don’t know why hooks were not in the ditch bag. Geri says it all depends on who packs it.

Lambert, who was eyeballing the items, suddenly blurted out: “Do you know what my fund did last year?”

Nobody responded. Nobody cared.

“Eight billion,” he said anyhow.

“What difference does your money make now?” Nina asked.

“It makes all the difference,” Lambert said. “It’s my money that will keep people looking for us. And it’s my money that will ultimately find whoever destroyed the Galaxy. If it takes the rest of my life, I will hunt down the animal who did this to me.”

“What are you talking about, Jason?” Mrs. Laghari said. “Nobody knows what happened on the boat.”

“I know!” Lambert bellowed. “That yacht was top shelf. Every last detail was looked after. There’s no way it sinks on its own. Somebody sabotaged it!”

He scratched his head, then looked at his fingers. “Maybe they were trying to kill me,” he mumbled. “Well, ha ha, you little pricks. I’m still here.”

He looked at me, but I avoided his gaze. I was thinking about Dobby. I was thinking how much we both hated this man.

Lambert turned to the Lord, who was smiling.

“What are you grinning at, Looney Tunes?”

The Lord said nothing.

“For what it’s worth, if you really are God, I never called for you. Not once. Not even in the water.”

“And yet I still listen,” the Lord said.

“Stop talking, Jason!” Nina snapped.

Lambert glared at her. “How did you get on my yacht? What do you do?”

“I style hair for the guests.”

“Oh, right,” Lambert said. “And you, Jean Philippe, the kitchen, correct?”

Jean Philippe nodded.

“And you, scribble boy. Benji. How come I don’t know what I pay you to do?”

I felt his eyes on me. My body roiled inside. I’d worked on the Galaxy for five months. He still had no clue who I was. But I knew him.

“Deckhand,” I said.

Lambert grunted. “A deckhand, a haircutter, and a cook. Really useful out here.”

“Give it a rest, Jason,” Geri said. “Benji, you got this written down yet?”

“Almost,” I replied.

“I’m just going to say this now,” Nina blurted out. “If something bad happens”—she pointed at Lambert—“it’s because of him!”

“Yeahhhup. It’ll all be my fault,” Lambert answered. “Except, hey, look, nothing’s happening. Oh, well.”

Just then, I noticed the Lord putting his hand over the side of the raft. It dangled in the water. I found that strange.