“Not yet,” Menedemos said. “Funny man,” Sostratos grumbled. His cousin bowed, as if thinking he'd meant it. “Thank you very much.” That evening, most of the sailors, and Menedemos with them, went into Kos to revel. “Try not to drink up all our profits, anyhow,” Sostratos said as Menedemos strode up the gangplank. “You sound like the pedagogue who took me to school every morning when I was a boy,” Menedemos said. “But you haven't got a switch, and he did.” Sostratos spent the night aboard. He ate bread and olives and cheese and a fish he bought from a little boy who'd caught it at the end of the pier, and washed the supper down with wine. If I wanted to get drunk, I could do it here, he thought. If he wanted a woman . . . He tossed his head. He wouldn't have cared to do that aboard a ship, even one called the Aphrodite. He got little sleep. Drunken sailors kept reeling back to the merchant galley at all hours. At some point, Menedemos must have come back, too, though Sostratos didn't remember that. Morning twilight was beginning to make the eastern sky turn pale when he jerked awake yet again at a snatch of drunken song and found Menedemos snoring on the planks of the poop deck beside him. Sunrise woke Sostratos for good. It also woke his cousin, who looked none too happy about being awake. “If I jump into the sea, do you suppose I'll turn into a dolphin?” he asked. “I'm sure dolphins don't get hangovers.” “By the way your eyes look, I'd say you were more likely to turn into a jellyfish,” Sostratos answered. “Was the good time you had worth the sore head you've got now?” “From what I remember of it, yes,” Menedemos said, which wasn't the conclusion Sostratos had hoped he would draw. Menedemos peered through half shut eyes at a couple of well-dressed men coming up the quay toward the Aphrodite. “What do they want? Tell 'em to go away, Sostratos. I don't want anything to do with 'em, not this early in the morning.” “Maybe they're passengers,” Sostratos said. “Tell 'em to go away anyhow,” Menedemos answered, something Sostratos had no intention of doing. His intentions turned out not to matter. One of the men said, “Menedemos son of Philodemos and Sostratos son of Lysistratos? Come with us at once, if you please.” There was breathtaking arrogance. “Who says we should?” Sostratos demanded. “Ptolemaios, the lord of Egypt,” the man answered. “He assumed you would come peaceably. If not, we can make other arrangements.” “What does Ptolemaios want with us?” Sostratos asked in surprise. “That's for him to tell you, not me,” his man answered. “Are you coming?”
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