one of us.'
Pia sat very still, her back against the iron grille of the cell. The electric lights were strong, but she did not feel them. Beside her Craig lay unmoving, his body unaware of the
rough stones of the floor. Pia hoped that if she made no sound, caused no trouble, proved how harmless she was, perhaps at last they would let her go. It was obvious now that Craig could not save her, or even himself. He could fight like a man and he would die like a man, but no one could defeat a giant. She knew that she should be sorry for him. In a time that allowed for such luxuries she supposed that she had loved him, but now her mind could cope with nothing but her need to survive, to exist, to be anything rather than flesh in the big man's battering hands. There was a sound behind her, but she made no move. Theseus's voice said gently. 'Come on now. Out. No trouble,' and the grille swung open. She crawled out and waited obediently while Theseus picked up the unconscious Craig, soaked a pad in water, bathed his forehead.
'Please,' said Pia. 'Please, I should like a drink.'
He signaled to the bucket he had brought, and she cupped her hands and drank, not touching the dipper in it—that might cause difficulties—content only to quench her thirst, to be able to exist until hunger should force her to speak again. But until then, she would be no trouble. Craig groaned, and came to, and Theseus helped him to sit up, held the dipper to his hps. Craig swallowed, cupped water in his hands, bathed his dirty, unshaven face. At last he croaked: 'I thought he intended to kill me. Didn't he say he would kill me?'
'Here,' said Theseus. 'Drink.'
He pulled a bottle of cognac from his pocket, uncorked it, held it to Craig's hps. Craig coughed and swallowed, just like the last time.
'What's he doing?' said Craig. 'What's it for?'
'You're a man,' Theseus said. 'Be a man now. He means to fight you many times, Craig. He will hit you in the same place each time.' Craig looked at him. 'It amuses him to do this,' Theseus said.
'One more blow there and I've had it. He'll turn me into an idiot if he goes on long enough.'
'I know,' Theseus said. 'That is what he intends to
do.'
Craig looked at him. Theseus was absolutely in earnest.
'Aristides has been rich for too long,' Theseus said. 'Soon he will think he is God.'
'It's about time he cast out the devil then,' said
Craig.
'Yes. I think so.' Theseus was still in earnest. 'This is your last chance, Craig.'
'No chance at all,' Craig said. 'I'm too old. He's slowed me up too much.'
Theseus's massive fist opened under his nose. On it were three white tablets.
'Benzedrine,' he said. 'To make you quick—and young.'
Craig took them, grimacing as he swallowed. 'Thanks, anyway,' he said.
'Not enough?' said Theseus. 'There is one more thing. The big man is afraid of blood—his own blood. If you can make him bleed, you will win.' He took a ring from his finger, offered it to Craig. It was a thick gold band, the bevel a square of gold with four raised points of steel like the tips of needles. Craig scooped dirt from the floor, took off the ring and rubbed it over the brightness of the gold, then put the ring on his finger, bevel inside.
'Why are you doing this?' he asked.
'Aristides is my friend,' said Theseus, 'and so is his wife. I know you would not hurt them. The big man will. Also I was afraid of you and you did not mock me for it.'
'Thanks,' Craig said. 'I won't forget this.'
'We go now,' said Theseus. 'It is time.'
Craig went over to Pia. She hadn't looked at them, hadn't moved. In any case, she spoke no Greek.
'We've got to go, love,' he said.
She looked up at him, and there was utter defeat in her eyes.
'Dyton-Blease told me what he's going to do to you,' she said. 'I can't stand it, John. I just can't stand it.'
'Don't watch,' said Craig. 'I don't want you to watch.' She sobbed, and clung to him. 'We go now,' said Theseus.
Somehow the last of her strength came to her, and she walked out proudly, head up, like a queen, the way Cinecitta had taught her.
· » ·
The caique had switched to sail an hour before, and Grierson could see the tiny pinpoint of light that marked the island.
'Okay,' he said. 'That's near enough.'
Elias whispered to his son, and the anchor splashed softly, sending up an explosion of phosphorescent water that quickly faded. Grierson stripped as the two Greeks listened for the beat of motor engines. There was nothing. Grierson strapped on the waterproof bag he had had prepared, and turned to them.
'Give me until nearly dawn,' he said. 'If I'm not back before it's light you go without me. I won't be coming.'
In the room, the others were already waiting, and a fourth one this time, Philippa, her face bone-white under its golden brown, so that the suntan looked like a crude cosmetic. She lolled in her chair, exhausted, yet her eyes were restless. They looked unseeing at Craig, then moved away again, searching, searching for the dream powder.
'I want you to see this,' Naxos said. 'I want you to see what you've done to her. She's got all the sedation the doctor will allow and she still can't rest. Maybe she won't ever again. You're to blame for that, Craig.'
Philippa whimpered, and Naxos turned to her at once. 'Now then, honey,' he said, and whispered softiy. Dyton-Blease tried to intervene, and Naxos snarled at him. 'Get on with the fight, why don't you?'
The big man stepped down, not bothering to dive this time, walking forward slowly, taking his time, as Pia shrank past him to sit at Selina's feet. Craig could feel the benzedrine take hold, forcing strength back into his body. This one would have to be quick; the drug wouldn't last for long. He clenched his hands, and felt the first premonitory nip of the four points of the ring. He moved slowly, wearily, like a man already resigned to defeat.
Dyton-Blease laughed aloud, and lunged for him, and Craig only just got out of the way in time. Even with the benzedrine, he was barely fast enough. Again the big man struck, and again Craig only just avoided him. He was being crowded into a corner again, but he couldn't help it. His hands came together briefly, and he twisted the ring into position. Next time a blow came he would have to take it
and hit back. A third time the enormous fist reached out for him, and this time he turned a fraction too slowly, felt a blow like a hammer crash into his side. He gasped, scrambling to stay upright on legs that seemed made of paper. For a fraction of a second the big man was off balance, and vulnerable.
Craig's fist lashed out in a tearing, searing blow across the big man's forehead, ripping four parallel lines into the skin. Dyton-Blease moaned, hesitated, and Craig struck with his other hand, under the heart. It was like hitting a lump of oak. Dyton-Blease put his hand to his head, and looked at the blood there.
'You cheated me,' he screamed. 'You cut me.'
Craig worked the ring from his finger, slipped it into his pocket, then waited till the big man crouched down again, the blood dripping slowly from his face. Craig feinted at the face again, and Dyton-Blease immediately raised his arm to protect it. Craig leaped in, grabbed the wrist, and threw the big man, held on to the wrist and pushed it up into a hammerlock. The big man was still pawing at his forehead with his free hand. Craig, very deliberately, struck at the big man's shoulder joint, and Dyton-Blease groaned aloud. Craig held on to the wrist, and pulled. Dyton-Blease spun like a top, crashed into the wall, and bounced back into Craig's fist, his whole body aimed like an arrow into the hard stomach. Dyton-Blease gasped, and deliberately fell on Craig.
Craig lurched back under the enormous weight, and he could feel Dyton-Blease's arms reaching for a hug that might still squeeze the life out of him. He let himself slide down, yielding to the weight, shpping through the clutching arms, grabbing the hands, pulling the big man forward, kicking upwards, feeling the impact of the big man's stomach on his foot before he straightened his leg and watched him soar over.
