“About the way you have altered our plans.”
“How do you mean?”
“Alex... he is highly cautious. Suspicious. I know just from the brief messages I have received from him.”
“I’ve sort of gotten that impression myself.”
“So I think... it would be unwise to make such a change.”
“You mean we should go into Korfu as planned?”
“I think it would be best, yes.”
Funny thing was, I’d been doing some thinking along the same lines myself, and decided I was being too careful. If there was a security breach, and a pursuit of some kind, it wouldn’t make that much difference if we were between Korfu and the mainland or on the open sea; they’d catch us, either way.
“So do I,” I said.
Her eyes widened in surprise, as though she’d been expecting an argument. “You do?”
I explained my reasoning. She nodded.
“The problem is,” I went on, “we’re going to have to kill a day or so after we get to Korfu at the rate we’re going. The logical place to put in tomorrow would be Preveza...”
I could feel her tense at the name, and again wondered why she didn’t want to go near the place.
“But,” I went on, “since that’s out, the next stopover short of Korfu should be Paxos. We could probably stay over there an extra day, but as long as you think we’re being tailed I don’t like to spend too long in any one port.”
“Yes, I see. Oh, perhaps I am imagining things, McKee, but since I saw that man in the taverna back there in Argostilion I do not think so, not so much.”
Maybe it was time to tell her about my own encounter, but I didn’t think so. Not yet. The more I saw of this girl, the more complicated she became, and that was true of the mission, too.
“Okay,” I said, “we’ll worry about that tomorrow. Now, tell me how Alex plans to contact you next.”
“I... I am not supposed to tell. Not even you.”
“That’s foolish. You said something about a taverna in Korfu, but no more. Suppose you fell overboard or something.”
She smiled. “I swim like a fish.”
“It wouldn’t do you much good if you fall in at night while I’m asleep below. You can’t catch a boat under sail, believe me.”
“It won’t happen, McKee.”
“Don’t be too sure. Anyway, I’m going to sleep up here.”
“You will be cold.”
“At least I’ll have company. It’s lonesome down below.”
She laughed.
“So let’s get back to cases. Your contact with Alex.”
“Really, McKee. I may not say.”
“You’d better think again, sweetheart. If there are people after us, we could get separated, or worse.”
She hesitated, chewing at her lip. Finally she shook her head slowly. “Perhaps tomorrow. Let me think, McKee.”
“Get this straight, Christina. “My orders are to rendezvous with Alex, pick him up and get him over to Italy. Right now you’re the only contact I have with him, so we’d better trust each other or turn around right here and say the hell with it”
She started, her eyes widening in fear. “You wouldn’t!”
“Damned right I would.” I was bluffing, but from her reaction she seemed to be partly convinced.
“Please, McKee. All of this is so new to me; I don’t know what to do, who to obey. Must we be in conflict?”
“It’s up to you,” I said flatly.
“Then I will tell you.”
I waited until the silence grew thick enough to cut with a knife.
“Tomorrow,” Christina said in a small voice.
I glowered at her, then sighed, stretched out on the cushioned seat and grabbed a life preserver for a pillow. “Wake me when you get tired,” I growled.
“Yes,” she said softly.
“And keep a sharp eye on that compass.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
Eleven
The morning came up blustery, with dark clouds scudding low overhead. By daylight there was a heavy chop working, and the heavy, broad-beamed boat rocked and dipped like a runaway hobby horse. Christina had gone below to sleep, but in a short while she emerged on deck again, pale and anxious.
“Are we all right?” she asked, looking at the clouds with alarm.
“Nothing to worry about.” I had to yell above the rising shriek of the wind and the rattle and creak of the rigging. An abrupt shift in the wind started the big mainsail flapping like a tethered, frantic eagle; I fought the helm until we were on a heading that filled the canvas again.
Christina steadied herself with a hand on the cabin top and looked all around, slightly wild-eyed. “Where are we? I don’t see any land.”
“Oh, it’s over there somewhere.” I waved vaguely to starboard.
“But don’t you know?” There was a tiny edge of panic in her voice.
“Don’t worry.” I checked my watch; it was close to six in the morning. Once during the night I’d estimated our speed, and figured we were roughly opposite Preveza, but that was very roughly. I didn’t tell the girl. “If it looks like we’re getting into trouble, all I have to do is head east and we’ll strike land.” Not, at the moment, an inviting prospect, since the wind was from that direction now, and it would have meant a laborious series of long tacks to buck it. I knew enough, thanks to Nathaniel, to realize that the underpowered auxiliary engine wouldn’t be of much help in this kind of sea; without the stabilizing effect of the wind in the sails, Scylla would go more up and down than forward.
“But... can’t we find out exactly where we are? With that... what do you call it? Trident?”
I chuckled. “Sextant.” I glanced overhead. “And until there’s some sun to take a fix on, the answer is no.”
She frowned, clearly worried, took her bracing hand away from the cabin top and immediately staggered backward, nearly falling through the open companionway behind her.
“Watch it!” I shouted. “Let’s not have any broken legs on this little pleasure cruise. Come over here and sit down.”
She did as she was told, lurching across the open cockpit and almost crashing into the compass binnacle. I grabbed her arm, pulled her down beside me.
“Stay put. For God’s sake don’t break the compass, because then even I’d start to worry.”
She smiled fleetingly and pushed her hair back from her face. Her skin was damp, and it wasn’t from the spray that was occasionally breaking over the side. I knew the look.
“Feeling a little queasy?”
“Queasy? I don’t know the word.”
“Sickish.”
“A... a little. It is so stuffy down there, and the boat jumping around so much.”
“Uh-huh. Well, stay up here until we’re out of this. Take the wheel.”
“Me?” She pulled her hands away as though afraid to touch it.
“Why not? Best seasick cure in the world, keeping busy up on deck.”
“I am not seasick!”
“Whatever you want to call it. Either way, I guarantee in a few minutes you’ll feel fine. Take it. I have work to do.”
She did as she was told, sliding over to the spot I vacated as I stood up. For a moment she looked dubiously at me, then took a deep breath and gripped the wheel with both hands. I went below to the head.
When I returned a few minutes later she was smiling faintly, lifting her head to catch the breeze and the salt spray. The treatment had worked quicker than I’d thought it would.
“Feel like talking?”
“Talking?”
“Uh-huh. You know.”
“Oh yes.” She lifted herself out of the seat to get a better look at the compass face. “A little later, eh McKee? I’m a little busy right now.”
I let it go at that.
By noon the day was calm and sunny again; I took a fix with the sextant and a silent prayer that my rudimentary navigation would be at least reasonably accurate. I was surprised to find we had come further than I expected; Preveza should lie almost due east of us. It was a small island, no more than four or five miles long, and wouldn’t be hard to miss. The wind was still blowing from the east, and though the sea was calmer there was still a nasty little chop. With a sigh I set to work on the first of our tacks. This was not going to be a day for pleasure, or even the business at hand.