Sure enough, a small gull with a black head that had been swooping toward the roll pulled up with an angry screech: “Ayeea!” A moment later, a tern plunged into the sea. It came out with a fish in its beak. “Between the dolphin and the bird, they've got sitos and opson,” Menedemos said. Instead of laughing at his little joke, Sostratos tossed his head. “For dolphins and terns, fish are sitos: they're what they have to have. When you gave them the barley roll, that was opson for them, even though it would be sitos for us.” Diokles clicked his tongue between his teeth. “Here I've been going to sea almost as long as you've been alive, young sir, and I never once thought of it like that. You've got an odd way of looking at the world—an interesting way,” he hastened to add. “A left-handed way,” Menedemos said, which wasn't a compliment. They didn't have the sea to themselves but for wild things that day. A few fishing boats were out on the wide water east of the Kyklades. When their crews saw the Aphrodite approaching, they lowered their sails and made for first Tenos and then, in the afternoon, Andros as fast as they could go. One of the crews cut a net free to be able to flee the faster. “Poor frightened fools,” Menedemos said. “That'll cost them a good bit of silver or a good bit of time to make good, and we didn't want anything to do with them.” “We ought to paint a legend on the side of the ship: I AM NOT A PIRATE,” Sostratos said. “And how long would it be before a pirate painted the same thing on his hemiolia?” Menedemos returned. Sostratos screwed up his face and stuck out his tongue in a Gorgon's grimace. “That's a horrible thought,” “Are you telling me Fm wrong, though?” Menedemos asked. His cousin tossed his head. Menedemos' smile held slightly grudging approval. One thing Sostratos was, without a doubt: an honest man. As the sun sank toward the rough horizon to the west, Sostratos pointed toward the channel between Andros and Cape Geraistos, the southernmost part of Euboia. “There it is. We can get through before nightfall.” “We can get through, yes,” Menedemos said. “But we can't get very far past the channel if we go through now. When morning comes, we'd be sitting out in the open for anyone to spot. If we stay out here on the open Aegean till morning, though, we can dash between the islands and round Cape Sounion before nightfall tomorrow. How does that sound?” Sostratos didn't look happy, but he didn't say no. He just sighed, made a pushing motion, and turned away. After a moment, Menedemos realized he was miming Sisyphos' eternal torment. Every time the wicked man got his boulder up near the top of the hill, it would slip away and roll to the bottom again. “It's not so bad as that,” Menedemos said. “No, it isn't,” Sostratos said. “It's worse.”
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