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road and make a call。〃
I had everything I needed to know。 And he was not going to detain me； drunk； while he brought the police。 As he stepped out the door； I shot him with the stungun。 It was on full power； narrow beam。 It blew his head half off。
The dogs objected。
I shot them。
I dragged all three bodies down to the beach。 I pushed the remains of the rowboat down into the water。 I put the bodies in it。 I buried the fragment that had the ship's name on it。
People； if anyone ever came this way； would think they had been blown up by the exploding ship。 And then cast ashore by the tidal wave。
I had covered my trail。
I went back to the hut。 There wasn't much blood and what specks there were I obliterated。
The old man had had another suit of clothes。 His Sunday clothes； I guessed。 The Greeks wear Western things and white shirts without a tie； most usually。
I stripped。 I dried out my clothes over the fire。 And while they were drying I ate some biscuit I found and drank some water。
I opened my grip and packed my Arab things。 I put on the old man's clothes。 They did not fit very well so they looked very Greek。
It occurred to me that I would have trouble； not speaking the language。 So I put a wad of cotton in my jaw and tied a rag under my chin and over my head。 I could pretend I couldn't talk because I had a toothache。
Ready at last； I hefted my bag。 It was quite heavy。 But there was nothing I could spare from it。
I was on my way again； with vengeance in my heart for Heller！
Stumbling through the dark night； I made my way up a long path and came at last to a deserted road。
I walked south。
I walked and walked and walked。
It was very arduous but I had incentive。 Whatever it took； I was going to get the man who had caused my having to do this。 And nothing was going to stop me！
In the dawn I came into a straggling town。 It was not much。
Sitting at the end of a long pier was a small ship。 A plume of smoke was ing out of the funnel。 It was an inter…island ferry such as ply the Aegean。
I flinched。 Not more sea！
But what could I do？ I had to get to the mainland。 Unlike some they say once existed on this planet； I could not walk on water。
Only the sacred mission of final destruction on which I was engaged gave me the fortitude to set foot on that gangplank。
I went up it。 Someone came out of a passageway and glanced down the gangway at the dock。
I looked behind me。 A chill went through me。 Several people were now walking up the dock。 Some of them were women！
I tensed myself to run。
The man said something to me in Greek。 He must be asking for money。 Tight spot！ I had no Greek money！ I could not display Turkish money！ It would open up the trail！
With great presence of mind； I reached to a pocket and fished out a U。 S。 thousand…dollar bill。
His eyes popped！
He grabbed the money and ran off。 My hand tightened on the gun in my pocket。
More people were ing up the dock。
The first man came back with another one！
I was penned in！
There were too many！ I did not have a machine cannon。
My lips formed a soundless prayer。
The new man had a box。 He was chattering。 It must be what they kept their electric cuffs in。 I couldn't understand a word they were saying。 He was opening it up。 My hand felt hot and sticky on the gun butt in my pocket。
They had the box open。 They were pointing at it。 The first man waved the thousand…dollar bill。 He pointed at the box again； chattering insanely all the while。
The word piraievs kept occurring in his speech。 Suddenly； I knew the word。 Piraievs was the entry port of Athens； its seaport。
My knees almost buckled with relief。 He was telling me； evidently； that he did not have enough change and would give it to me in Piraievs。
I nodded weakly。
The first man pushed a ticket in my hand。
I tottered into a lounge bar and unpried my sticky hand from the gun butt in my pocket。 I looked at my palm； thinking it had never been that sweaty before。 It was not sweat。 It was blood from broken blisters formed in packing that （bleeped） grip。 So I wasn't as nervous as I had thought。
I got into a corner seat where I could keep the whole room under surveillance。 One part of me dreaded the moment the ship would sail； the other part of me couldn't wait to get it away from the dock。 Was I turning into a schizophrenic； torn asunder by a split personality？
I began to itch。 The itching got worse。 I began to itch in several places at once。 Nervous hives。 According to psychology； when one is under an enormous strain； he tends to itch。 If psychology said so； it must be totally true。 But I didn't think I was nervous to the point of a nervous breakdown。 I wondered how the crew would cope with me if I did have a nervous breakdown。 I was sure a ferry didn't carry a doctor。
The itching grew worse and worse。 Yes； it must be true that I was ing apart with a nervous breakdown。
Then something small and black was moving on my hand。 I looked at it。 Bubonic plague？ Was I breaking out with bubonic plague spots？ Oh； I hoped not。 They would put me in quarantine and hold me until the Turkish women could find enough stones！
But wait。 Bubonic plague spots don't move。 They also don't jump。
I looked closely at the speck； which had leaped to my knee。
A FLEA！
Oh； Gods； the old man was getting his ghostly revenge！ Associating daily with those two （bleeped） dogs； his clothes were full of fleas！
The things I was having to suffer because of Heller！
Only the grim determination to get him at the end of this tortured trail kept me going。
The ship had moved away from the dock。 It began to pitch。
My stomach decided the old man's biscuits were too much。
I was shortly at the rail。
And each time I threw up again； I repeated my sacred vow。
Heller was going to pay for this。 He was going to pay for it all！
It was the only reason now that I cared to bear all this and live。
VENGEANCE！
HELLER WOULD PAY！
I repeated it in every lull between the times that I threw up。
At least I knew who was responsible for my woe。 And I was on my way to do something about it！
It was all that got me through that dreadful voyage。
Chapter 4
At Piraievs； where we arrived after an agonizing day and night； I found； with a shock； that I was out of bombs。 I could not blow up the ship。 It made me very nervous。
I would have to be more cunning and crafty than ever。 Now that the ship was no longer moving； I had time to squeeze my brains for every scrap of Apparatus technique that I would need to get through this。 At least I was out from under the Prophet in the clouds。 The Greek Gods live at Mount Olympus and that was far to the north。 So there was some hope they wouldn't notice me passing through。
Mingle with the crowd： that is an Apparatus must。 The instant I started to do so and go down the gangplank I was accosted by someone rushing up。
He spotted me！ I flinched。 Due to the disembarking people I could not back up。 I cringed as he reached out his hand。
He was holding a sack。 He jabbered something as he shoved it into my hands。 Expecting a bomb； I still thought it would look better if I glanced into the sack before I threw it in his face and ran。
I looked。
Drachmas！ A huge paper sack full of drachmas； all in small bills。 It was my change。
I rushed off the ship。
A bus carried me to Athens。 But this was no time for cultural walks around the Parthenon。 I had had quite enough history。 What I needed was a change of clothes。 It would help me to cover my trail。
A main street in Athens was very modern with shops。 My purchases were very swift。 A raincoat； a suit； socks； shirt； tie； hat。 I paid for it all with drachmas。 It hardly made a dent in the bulk of the money。 They were not expensive clothes。
I did not dare go to a hotel。 They take your passport number and name。 I took a cab to the airport。 I bought a one…way to New York。 I used drachmas。 It was a coach cut…rate fare。 I still had plenty of drachmas left。
The airport building provided a washroom。 I went into a toilet。 I put my suitcase on the seat。 I got out of the old man's clothes。 I didn't have any way to destroy them。 I put them in my suitcase。
I brushed a couple of fleas off my skin and got dressed in the new clothes。 I took off the bandage and removed the very saturated wad of cotton from my jaw。
I put my guns in the suitcase。 It was too full now to put any of the money in。 I had ninety…eight thousand U。 S。 dollars； ninety…one thousand Turkish lira； all in small bills； and twenty…nine thousand drachmas left； also in small bills。 What a wad！ Enough to stuff a mattress。
My newly purchased clothes had been in a couple of large sacks。 I stuffed the money in those。 I would carry this money； my ticket and my diplomatic passport； and leave everything else in the grip。 I strapped it up。
Back at the counter； I flashed my phony United Arab League passpo