The silence was more ominous now. Lapham, Dr.

Krom's college boy a.s.sistant, looked uneasily at Joe.

"Is it true?" he asked.

"No," Joe said distractedly, for he was suddenly aware that he knew how their time jumps were happening.

"When you gonna take us home" Rose asked.

"How should I know?"

"You're supposed to know everything," Gorson growled.

"I know one thing," Joe snapped. "If you want to get home it'll be easier after you've forgotten these trollops

and got some water in the Alice's tanks. And how about snaring a few dozen goats so we can dry the meat- providing the Roman coast guard doesn't patrol here too often."

The blondes were restless with all this talk. They had the entertainer's instinct for crisis even if they didn't understand the language. One appeared from nowhere, bearing several fresh skins of wine.

"Three cheers for Mr. Rate," Cookie yelled. "It's been at least a month since I've had a liberty like this!"

Gorson swayed to his feet. "You can't get away with this," he growled. "I've read the book. I know my rights." From four feet away the brunette squirted an unerring red jet into Gorson's mouth. He choked on the wine and began coughing. While the others were still laughing Joe walked off.

What were these girls doing here in the first place?

Where was all that wine coming from? It took a press and vats to make wine. This island was honeycombed with caves but he was sure none was big enough to hide that land of installation.

Away from the noise of the party, he collapsed on the shady side of an oak and piled handfulls of damp leaf mold over his bleeding toes. He'd probably get hookworm or bilharzia but he was too disgusted to care. He dozed off and dreamt of a triumphal march through the streets of Rome. The triumph dissolved into a gladiatorial display with Joe on the wrong end of the sword. He woke abruptly and rolled off the rock which had been stabbing him.

The sun had gone down and the hours of inactivity without clothing or cover had left him thoroughly chilled. He clambered stiffly to his feet and limped back up to the spring. There was no sound now. The Alice's men sprawled in weird att.i.tudes around the demolished goat. Joe shook one. He grunted but did not waken. Worriedly, Joe made the rounds. All were

breathing but he didn't believe they could be so uni- formly drunk. Thank Neptune he hadn't tasted the wine.

There was not a girl in sight.

With a sinking in his stomach, Joe realized what was up. Should have stayed awake, he told himself. Should have gone down to the Alice. But he hadn't. Come to think of it, what could he have done alone? He threw branches on the embers where the goat had barbecued and when that blazed up he found the broken bottom of an amphora the girls had kept wine in. The spike bottomed jar fragment held about a gallon.

Straddling Gorson, he poured a gallon of spring water.

The bos'n sputtered. By the third slosh he was on his feet and swearing.

"Yes, I did it," Joe said. "Now listen you turgid t.e.s.t.i.c.l.ed slob-you bigmouthed yourself into this, now bigmouth yourself out. You're captain from now on."

Gorson gazed blearily about the clearing and saw the Alice's men. Abruptly, he was wide awake and sober.

"Jesus, what do we do now?"

Joe savored his moment of glory. "One of the first things you can do is stand at attention when you ad- dress your captain."

Gorson gulped. "Yessir," he said. "I'm sorry sir, I-"

"Get these men on their feet and let's get back to the ship."

Gorson grabbed the amphora bottom and started carrying water. Ten minutes later they stood in the firelight. Dr. Krom's bushy head fitted his sheepish look. "All right," Joe growled, "you've hit your first foreign port on this cruise. You've been rolled and you've probably all got a dose. Are you ready to go back aboard?" He stopped and looked at them carefully.

Raquel, he knew, was aboard the Alice. Someone else was missing. "Where's McGrath?"

"His Holiness stayed aboard," Villegas said.

The cold knifed deeper into Joe's stomach. McGrath had been increasingly unstable since that clout on the head. Was Raquel safe? At least the little G.o.d shouter hadn't stampeded ash.o.r.e after those blonde trollops.

He remembered the tooth marks and Raquel's cryptic comment. They'd been alone all day. But what the h.e.l.l, he thought, she can take care of herself. If she wants to.

The Alice's men still stood in a numbed group, awak- ening slowly to their position. They had carried no weapons to begin with. Now their pockets were empty.

Joe put them to gathering rocks. When each had filled his pockets and bagged a few inside his shirt they lit firebrands. The oak would not blaze long but with luck it would light them partway down the hill.

Joe's feet were so sore by now that he could hardly walk. Ought to make Gorson carry me. But he didn't They started down the valley. Joe tried to remember if there'd been a moon last night. It was very dark now under the oaks and they had not progressed a hun- dred yards before a torch went out. Halfway down the slope the last brand was extinguished. They fumbled along, b.u.mping into trees, stumbling over roots.

There was a splash as Red Schwartz abruptly found himself neck-deep in the bay. He splashed a great deal and took the Lord's name in vain before he caught an outstretched hand and pulled himself back ash.o.r.e. They fanned out, searching for the Alice's mooring line. They didn't find it.

"Gotta be here," Gorson was grumbling. There was a worried tone in his voice. "Whole canyon's not a hundred yards wide. How could we miss it?"

Joe glanced back uphill at the faint glow where they'd left the fire. It was not the fire he was seeing.

The moon was about to rise from behind the ridge. It did and there was no sign of the Alice.

Weaponless, miserable, hungover, they looked hope-

fully at Joe. "Does anyone think this is my fault?" he needled.

The imam and his Moors huddled to one side, looking even more disconsolate. Joe decided not to rub it in.

The moon rose higher until its direct rays illuminated the pinnacle in the small harbor's center. And there they saw the Alice. Someone had cut the stern line and taken up on the bow line. It was a good hundred yards to the yawl's stern. Joe turned to the imam. "Ask your men if they can swim," he said.

"Why ask?"

Dr. Krom would probably have a heart attack if he tried. "How about the rest of you?" The navy men nodded. "Can you do it with rocks in your pockets and come up fighting?" This time they weren't so sure.

Joe put them to gathering logs. There was neither time nor tools to make a raft but they could swim the trunks out, using them to rest on. He tried to imagine what they would face aboard the Alice. The girls would all be there, of course. Soft and alluring as they might seem, Joe suspected they would be a match for ex- hausted hungover men trying to pull themselves aboard the Alice. And what if they had a few men of their own along?

Again he wondered how they'd happened to land on this island. If the girls had been going to Rome they must've been shipwrecked or marooned. If shipwrecked, what sort of miracle drowned the whole crew while they saved not only themselves but apparently hun- dreds of gallons of wine?

Retaking the Alice was not going to be easy. But . . .

whoever boarded her had to sail her away. Engines would be an impenetrable mystery. Perhaps the halliard winches were also beyond them. Had they already dis- covered they couldn't sail her? Probably just waiting for a wind. He was composing a silent prayer for continued calm when the first ripple of breeze bit them from be-

hind. The Alice could cut loose and drift out of the harbor mouth now.

"Will you get on the ball with those logs?" he snapped.

A rumble and splash answered him as they finally manhandled one into the water. "All hands in and see if it'll support us."

It could, so they began swimming. "Not crossways, for Christ's sake!" Joe growled. "Turn it lengthways."

Strung along both sides, they paddled with one hand and kicked their slow way toward the Alice.

What had happened to Raquel and McGrath by now? Something else bothered him too. It kept bother- ing him during the twenty minutes it took to paddle out.

Finally, as the log b.u.mped gently into the Alice's stern, he remembered the name of the island where Circe had turned Ulysses' men into pigs. It was Aeaea.

VII.