"He died for all of us," Raymond concluded his funeral eulogy over Ives,"so his death was not in vain."But Martin disagreed.The ceaseless voyaging began again. The Interregnum voyaged to everyocean and every sea. Some were blue and some green and some dun. After awhile, Martin couldn't tell one from another. Cousin after cousin came towatch over him and eventually they were as hard for him to tell apart as thedifferent oceans.All the cousins were young, for, though they came at different times in hislife, they had all started out from the same time in theirs. Only the young oneshad been included in the venture; they did not trust their elders.As the years went by, Martin began to lose even his detached interest in theland and its doings. Although the yacht frequently touched port for fuel orsupplies—it was more economical to purchase them in that era than to havethem shipped from the future—he seldom went ashore, and then only at theurging of a newly assigned cousin anxious to see the sights. Most of the timeMartin spent in watching the sea—and sometimes he painted it. There seemedto be a depth to his seascapes that his other work lacked.When he was pressed by the current cousin to make a land visitsomewhere, he decided to exhibit a few of his sea paintings. That way, hecould fool himself into thinking that there was some purpose to this journey.He'd come to believe that perhaps what his life lacked was purpose, and for awhile he kept looking for meaning everywhere, to the cousin's utter disgust."Eat, drink and be merry, or whatever you Romans say when you do as youdo," the cousin—who was rather woolly in history; the descendants werescraping bottom now—advised.Martin showed his work in Italy, so that the cousin could be disillusionedby the current crop of Romans. He found that neither purpose nor malice wasenough; he was still immeasurably bored. However, a museum bought two ofthe paintings. Martin thought of Ives and felt an uncomfortable pang of asensation he could no longer understand."Where do you suppose Conrad has been all this time?" Martin idly askedthe current cousin—who was passing as his nephew by now.The young man jumped, then glanced around him uncomfortably."Conrad's a very shrewd fellow," he whispered. "He's biding his time—waiting until we're off guard. And then—pow!—he'll attack!"