cc.themediterraneancaper2-第17部分

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hem　on　the　other　side　of　the　barrier。　Next　he　smeared　his　blood　into　the　sweat　and　exhaled　until　his　lungs　ached　in　protest。　Then；　slipping　his　bead　between　the　bars；　he　strained　to　push　one　hundred　and　ninety　pounds　into　the　outside　landscape。　The　rust　from　the　bars　flaked　off　against　his　slippery　skin　and　stuck　to　the　glue…like　blood。　A　racking　moan　of　pain　escaped　his　mouth　as　his　genitals　scraped　over　the　ragged　edge　of　one　bar。　He　desperately　clawed　at　the　ground　and　gave　a　final　heave。　His　body　came　free。
　Pitt　grasped　his　scraped　crotch　and　sat　up；　ignoring　the　stabbing　pain　and　unable　to　believe　his　success。　He　was　out；　but　was　he　in　the　clear？　His　eyes；　now　acutely　used　to　the　dark；　darted　around　the　immediate　area。
　The　vaulted　bars　of　the　labyrinth　faced　onto　the　stage　entrance　of　a　great　amphitheatre。　The　ponderous　structure　reflected　a　vaguely　unearthly　glow　from　the
　white　light　of　the　stars　and　the　moon；　whose　imperfect　circle　peeped　over　a　shadowed　mountain　summit。　The　architecture　was　Grecian　but　the　massiveness　of　the　construction　signified　Roman　hands。　The　edge　of　the　round　stage　was　separated　from　the　theatre's　upper　rim　by　almost　forty　rows　of　steeply　banked　seats。　Except　for　the　invisible　flight　of　nocturnal　insects；；　the　entire　amphitheatre　was　deserted。
　Pitt　slipped　into　the　remains　of　his　uniform。　Knotting　the　damp　sticky　cloth　of　his　shirt；　he　stiffly　wrapped　his　chest　with　a　crude　bandage。
　Just　to　be　able　to　walk　and　breathe　in　the　warm　evening　air　gave　him　a　new　surge　of　strength。　He　had　gambled　back　there　in　the　labyrinth　and　without　Theseus'　string　to　guide　him　had　beat　the　immense　odds　and　won。　Laughter　rang　from　his　lips　and　traveled　in　loud　echoes　to　the　last　row　of　the　amphitheatre　and　back。　The　pain　and　the　exhaustion　was　forgotten　as　he　visualized　von　Till's　face　at　their　next　meeting。
　〃How　would　you　like　a　ticket　to　see　that？〃　Pitt　shouted　at　his　nonattendant　gallery。　He　waited；　caught　in　the　mood　of　the　eerie　setting。　There　was　no　reply；　no　applause；　only　the　silence　of　the　warm　Thasos　night。　For　a　moment　he　thought　he　saw　a　ghostly　Roman　audience　cheering　him　on；　but　the　toga　clad　figures　faded　
　mutely　away　into　the　white　marble；　leaving　Pitt　with　no　answer　to　his　lonely　invitation。
　He　looked　up　at　the　maze　of　stars　in　the　diamond　clear　air　to　get　his　bearings。　Polaris　blinked　its　friendly　light　in　return　and　advertised　approximate　north。　Pitt's　eyes　scanned　a　full　three　hundred　and　sixty　degree　circle　of　sky。　Something　was　wrong。　Taurus　and　the　Pleiades　should　have　been　overhead。　Instead；　they　were　far　to　the　east。
　〃Goddamn；〃　Pitt　cursed　aloud；　looking　at　his　watch。　It　was　3：22。　Only　an　hour　and　eighteen　minutes。　before　dawn。　Somehow　he　had　lost　nearly　five　hours。
　What　happened；　he　asked　himself；　where　was　the　time　lost？　Then　he　realized　that　he　must　have　passed　out　after　colliding　with　the　stairway。
　There　was　no　time　to　lose。　He　hurriedly　walked　across　the　stone　paved　stage　and　presently　discovered；　in　the　little　available　light；　a　small　path　leading　down　the　mountainside。　He　took　it　and　set　out　on　a　race　to　beat　the　sun。
　8
　　A　quarter　of　a　mile　down　the　steep　slope　the　pathway　turned　into　a　road…no　road；　really；　but　two　parallel　tire…worn　indentations　in　the　ground　cover。　The　tracks　meandered　downward　in　a　tortuous　series　of　hairpin　curves。　Pitt　stumbled　along　at　half　trot；　his　heart　pounding　viciously　under　the　taxing　strain。　He　was　hurt；　not　badly；　but　he　had　lost　much　blood。　Any　doctor　who　might　have　encountered　him　would　have　immediately　confined　his　torn　body　to　a　hospital　bed。
　Over　and　over；　since　his　escape　from　the　labyrinth；　pictures　of　the　defenseless　
　scientists　and　crew　of　the　First　Attempt　being　strafed　by　the　Albatros　flashed　through　Pitt's　mind。　He　could　see　in　perfect　detail　the　bullets　tearing　into　flesh　and　bone；　leaving　heavy　red　blotches　on　the　white　paint　of　the　oceanographic　research　ship。　The　carnage　would　all　be　over　before　the　new　interceptor　jets　at　Brady　Field　could　scramble；　providing　of　course　the　replacement　aircraft　had　arrived　from　the　North　Africa　depot　before　dawn。　These　visions　and　others　drove　Pitt　on　to　efforts　beyond　his　normal　capacity。
　He　halted　abruptly。　Something　moved　in　the　shadows　ahead。　He　left　the　vague　trail　and　circled　wanly　around　a　thick　growth　of　chestnut　trees；　creeping　closer　to　the　unexpected　obstacle。　Then　he　raised　up　and　peered　over　a　fallen；　decaying　tree…trunk。　Even　in　the　dim　light　there　was　no　mistaking　the　shape　of　a　well…fed　donkey　that　was　tethered　to　a　solitary　boulder。　The　unattended　little　animal　cocked　one　ear　at　Pitt's　approach　and　brayed　softly；　almost　pathetically。
　〃You're　hardly　the　answer　to　a　jockey's　prayer；〃　said　Pitt　grinning。　〃But　beggars　can't　be　choosy。〃　He　untied　the　lead　rope　from　the　rock　and　quickly　made　a　crude　halter。　With　no　little　amount　of　patience　he　managed　to　push　it　over　the　donkey's　nose。　Then　he　mounted。
　〃Okay；　mule；　giddy　up。〃
　The　little　beast　did　not　move。
　Pitt　pounded　on　the　stout　flanks。　Still　no　government。　He　kicked；　bounced　and　prodded。　Nothing；　not　even　a　bray。　The　long　ears　laid　flat　and　their　obstinate　owner　refused　to　budge。
　Pitt　did　not　know　any　Greek　words；　only　a　few　names。　That　must　be　it；　he　thought。　This　dumb　jackass　was　probably　named　after　a　Greek　god　or　hero。
　〃Forward　Zeus。　。　。　Appollo。　。　。　Poseidon。
　Hercules。　How　about　Atlas？〃　It　seemed　as　though　the　donkey　had　turned　to　stone。　Suddenly　an　idea　occurred　to　Pitt。　He　leaned　over　and　inspected　his　mount's　underbelly。　It　was　void　of　exterior　plumbing。
　〃My　deepest　apologies　you　gorgeous；　ravishing　creature；〃　Pitt　purred　in　the　pointed　ears。　〃e　my　lovely　Aphrodite；　let　us　be　off。〃
　The　donkey　twitched　and　Pitt　knew　he　was　getting　warm。
　〃Atlanta？〃
　Nothing　more　happened。
　〃Athena？〃
　The　ears　shot　up　and　the　donkey　turned；　looking　up　at　Pitt　out　of　a　big　confused　eyes。
　〃e　on；　Athena；　mush！〃
　Athena；　much　to　Pitt's　joy　and　relief；　pawed　at　the　ground　a　couple　of　times　and　then　obediently　began　to　amble　down　the　road。
　The　early　morning　turned　cool；　and　dew　was　beginning　to　dampen　the　forest　trimmed　meadows　when　at　last　Pitt　reached　the　outskirts　of　Liminas。　Liminas　was　an　average　Greek　coastal　village；　a　unique　blend　of　modern　construction　built　on　the　site　of　an　ancient　city；　whose　ruins　rise　hero　and　there　among　the　more　recent　tile…roofed　houses。　On　the　shoreline；　jutting　into　the　town　with　a　jagged　half…moon　curve；　a　harbor　full　of　flat…beamed　fishing　boats　offered　a　picturesque　travel　folder　scene　with　the　smells　of　salt　air；　fish　and　diesel　oil　thrown　in。　The　wooden　hulled　boats　lay　dead　along　the　beach　like　a　pack　of　beached　whales；　their　masts　carefully　stowed　along　the　gunnels　and　their　anchor　ropes　stretched　loosely　to　seaward。　In　rows；　behind　the　white　sand　beach；　high　vertical　poles　stood；　supporting　long　fences　of　stinking　brown　fish　nets。　And；　behind　those　again　was　the　main　street　of　the　village；　whose　shuttered　little　doors　and　windows　offered　no　sign　of　life　to　the　bedraggled　Pitt　and　his　plodding　four…legged　transportation。　The　white　plastered　houses　with　their　tiny　balconies　made　a　restful　real…life　painting　in　the　moonlight；　a　painting　that　had　little　bearing　on　the　events　which　had　brought　Pitt　to　the　village。
　At　a　narrow　intersection　Pitt　slid　off　the　donkey　and　tied　it　to　a　mailbox。　Then　he　took　an　American　ten　dollar　bill　from　his　wallet　and　wrapped　it　into　the　halter。
　〃Thanks　for　the　lift；　Athena；　and　keep　the　change。〃
　He　patted　the　animal　affectionately　on　the　soft　rounded　nose　and；　hitching　up　his　disreputable　looking　pants；　walked　unsteadily　down　the　street　toward　the　beach。
　Pitt　looked　for　the　tell…tale　lines　of　a　telephone；　but　could　see　none。　There　were　no　cars　or　other　vehicles　parked　along　the　streets　either；　only　a　bicycle；　but　he　was　too　physically　drained　to　consider　pedaling　the　seven　miles　back　to　Brady　Field。　A　lot　of　good　it　would　do；　he　thought；　even　if　he　could　find　a　phone　or　someone　who　owned　a　car；　he　couldn't　speak　Greek。
　The　glowing　arms　and　numbers　on　the　Omega　said　3：59。　Another　hot　dawn　would　hit　the　island　in　forty…one　minutes。　Forty…one　minutes　to　warn　Gunn　and　the　men　on　the　First　Attempt。　Pitt　looked　across　the　sea；　following　the　inward　curve　of　the　Island。　If　it　was　seven　miles　to　Brady　Field　by　land；　then　it　was　only　four　miles　in　a　direct　line　across　the　water　to　the　ship。　There　was　no　time　left　to　loiter；　he　would　simply　have　to　steal　a　boat。　Why　not？　he　reasoned。　If　he　could　kidnap　a　donkey　he　could　pirate　a　boat。
　Within　a　few　minutes　he　found　a　well…used　dory　with　a　high　flaring　Carvel　hull　and　a　rust…coated　one　cylinder　gasoline　engine。　Fumbling　in　the　gloom　his　fingers　found　the　throttle　linkage　and　the　ignition　switch。：
　The　flywheel　was　massive　and　it　was　all　Pitt　could　do　to　crank　it　over。　Every　aching　muscle　strained　at　each　silent　revolution。　Sweat　broke　from　his　forehead　and　dripped　on　the　engine。　His　head　throbbed　and　blurriness　crept　into　his　vision。　Time　after　time　he　pulled　the　crank　handle　rubbing　the　flesh　from　his　hands。　It　seemed　hopeless；　the　engine　would　not　fire。
　If　the　need　for　speed　had　been　vital　before；　it　was　desperate　now。　Precious　minutes　were　runnin