The Ship That Sailed The Time Stream Part 33

Joe stumbled toward the coffee pot which, thank Mahan, was full. Somewhere in the back of his mind had lurked the hope that with warm bunks and carnal satisfactions the Alice's crew would not be in such a hurry to get home. As the only historian aboard he had, he realized now, been indulging in wishful thinking.

"Hasn't anyone any objections?" he asked.

Silence.

"Well," he continued, "the first jump took us from off California to somewhere between Norway and Ice- land. The next one dumped us in the Aegean. Why?

Maybe we hang in limbo while the Earth revolves be- neath us." He shrugged. "Anyway, each jump has moved us east. Now take a look at the map. If this next jump proves true to form the Alice is going to have one d.a.m.n rough time sailing down Mt. Ararat."

Shocked silence.

"But we got everything all ready to go," Cookie final- ly protested.

"Okay," Joe said, "if everybody's willing, so am I.

But remember, the biggest deserts on Earth lie due

east. The Golden Horde of Fu Manchu couldn't dig a ca.n.a.l across the Gobi,"

There was silence for another moment; then Dr. Krom protested, "But do you know?"

"Of course not," Joe snapped. "I'm guessing like every- one else. What time is it, anyway?"

"About dawn," Gorson said. "Guilbeau, relieve Schwartz."

The Cajun nodded and climbed into his peacoat

"Batteries at full charge," Rose suggested.

A faint hint of daylight glimmered through the port- hole. Joe didn't want to jump. He was haunted by the suspicion that he was forgetting something very impor- tant. He needed more time to think. Maybe he could get Freedy to check over the electronics gear again.

He was trying to think up a reason to stall when Schwartz's raucous voice yelled. "Land!"

Ten seconds later all hands stared at a rocky promon- tory off the starboard bow. Where in blazes were they?

Joe was willing to bet his commission they'd pa.s.sed Cape Malea. This couldn't possibly be Sicily. He studied the point and wondered how far out that rocky spine would shoal. If the Alice headed any farther south she'd be sailing by the lee. Nothing for it but to haul every- thing in close and jibe.

"Want a sounding?" Freedy asked. "I can turn on the fathometer."

"With everything set up for a jump? h.e.l.l, no."

They hauled in the mainsheet and were wrestling with the spinnaker pole when Joe first saw it come streaking from behind the point. The ship was light and carried a single bank of oars. "Liburnian," he grunted. Caesar used them for dispatch boats. A sec- ond galley came from behind the point and shot to- ward the Alice.

"Dammit," Gorson moaned, "The s...o...b..'s must crawl from under every flat rock."

Freedy stuck his head up through the companionway.

"You sure it's deep enough here?" he asked.

Joe gauged the wind against the quick-stroking Li- burnians. "We're in deep enough," he said. "Turn on the fathometer."

XI.

HOWARD McGRATH had not been having it easy. The night before the Alice had been taken by the Roman ship, he and Lillith had escaped in the caique, but right now, with the wind abeam, the little vessel was about as stable as a bicycle. Out of bits of cordage they had finally rigged a couple of slings which permitted him and Lillith to dangle rapidly varicosing b.u.t.tocks out- board of the windward gunwale while steering with the sheet rather than the lashed sweep.

After several eternities they reached Piraeus and brailed up sail. There being no proper thwarts, Howie had been at something of a loss until Lillith stood facing forward with her pair of oars and taught him how to row. In the hour and a half it took them to make land he felt circulation returning little by little to his cinctured lower extremities.

Instinct guided Lillith away from the moles where customs men swarmed over the large ships. They rowed slowly, toward a more ancient section of the harbor where small boats reeked of ancient fish while their oc- cupants mended nets and addressed each other in equal- ly pungent koine.

Howie had acquired a minimum of Aramaic in the last week but this was his first contact with the language of the New Testament. How, he wondered, would they get by here?

Lillith, using the few Aramaic words Howie under- stood, managed with much arm waving to explain that she would do the talking and that he had best pretend to be her slave.

Howie saw the wisdom of this: slaves were not ex- pected to fight and these bruisers looked as if they'd like nothing better. They inched along the mole to a vacant s.p.a.ce large enough for the caique's bow. Howie scrambled over the slimy stones and tied up. By the time he had helped Lillith up onto the dock an im- mense crowd had gathered.

Howie glanced embarra.s.sedly at his ragged dunga- rees. He must be wearing the only pants in town. He ran a hand over his sunburned chin and wondered when he'd find a razor to take off the half dozen bristles which sprouted there.

Lillith addressed the gawkers shrilly. Had Howie known more of the language he would have known her Greek was almost as atrocious as his Aramaic. But she got the idea across. Soon fishermen bid briskly against each other. One dumped a few staters and a large handful of copper oboloi into the pockets she made of her tattered skirt. She handed him the caique's paint- er.

The crowd dispersed. Howie studied Lillith's legs and desire rose in him for the first time since they'd sailed. But there were too many people. Glancing about at the few women's long skirts, he saw Lillith was con- spicuous, brazen, or both. He pointed at the money and at a pocket in his dungarees. Lillith gave him a swift glance and surrendered the coins.

She started down the narrow street and Howie, after she had hissed and pointed a couple of times, fell in

behind as befitted a slave. The street was cobbled with uneven stones which threatened to sprain his ankle with every step. It was not over ten feet wide at best and upper floors extended until the street caught less than enough sunlight to dry the stinking mounds of rubbish and offal which collected beneath balconies.

The lower story was mostly open-front shops, selling weird things at whose use Howie could only guess. He muttered an unchristian word as his toe stubbed an- other cobble. Why hadn't he brought his shoes?

Lillith was used to going barefoot but she fared little better. Abruptly she stopped before a display of sandals.

Moments later they had two pairs, and half of the cop- per coins were gone. A few doors farther they stopped again and Howie squatted for nearly an hour while Lillith tried on robes until she found one which showed off her sultry complexion to advantage.

In considerably less time she picked a himation.

Howie put it on but refused to remove his trousers.

Lillith, after some venomous asides, led the way again.

Howie's denimclad legs attracted stares from those Athenians who had not yet seen everything. He strug- gled with the himation. Lillith was suddenly walking much faster. Eventually, he got the bulky garment bunched up around his waist, more or less as others seemed to wear it.

They left the docks and the fishy smell was gradual- ly displaced by an all-pervading odor of onion, garlic, and the rancid stink of olive oil. When had he eaten last, Howie wondered. The smell grew stronger and he felt suddenly faint. Lillith stopped so abruptly that he b.u.mped into her and Howie saw that one of the open- fronted shops had an immense soot-blackened cauldron in which oil smoked and little brown things sizzled.

The cook was a small, suspicious man with kinky black hair. His eyes became human only when Lillith ex- tracted money from the hypnotized Howie's pocket.

Then the little man grabbed chunks of dough and twirled them pizza fashion before dumping fried sau- sage and a handful of onion in the midst of each.

When each gob of dough was rolled back into a ball he dropped it in. Howie could not take his eyes from the cauldron. After an eternity of waiting for them to cool Howie and Lillith wandered on down the street, dodg- ing porters, pack mules, and an occasional VlP's litter.

They were leaving Piraeus now, starting the six mile walk up between the remains of the famous long walls.

Howie felt better since he had eaten. But with his stomach full, he became even more cognizant of how long it had been since he had last slept. Lillith had catnapped while he steered constantly. He looked wist- fully for some place to sleep but every nook in the ruined walls was filled with lounging sailors, drovers, or bands of half-drunk students out picnicking.

Howie plodded behind, seething inwardly as students caught sight of Lillith and made loud remarks which required no translation.

Two miserable stumbling hours later they finished the uphill walk to Athens. Howie was so exhausted that he took no notice of the stoa through which they trudged, save that he was startled by the gaudily painted statue of a naked young man about to fling a plate at somebody. He had always thought statues were left in the natural white of marble.

Lillith stopped before a building which reeked of steam and oil. Well scrubbed men lounged before the building. Those downwind moved when Howie and Lillith sat down.

The silver coins were all gone and only a handful of copper oboloi remained. Howie wondered if there'd be enough for a room in whatever these foreigners had in the way of a hotel. He was going over his meager vocabulary, trying to find a way to ask Lillith, when he noticed a small, bright-eyed man studying them intent-

ly. Howie stared back. The little man's chlamys fit better than most of the citizenry's and was woven of finer material. Howie glanced at Lillith. She too had noticed the man's glance. Jealous anger boiled through Howie at the suspicion that they had been communicat- ing for some time.