she meant it. "All we have to do is manage to get down there without
being spotted and killed."
"I don't know how much more excitement I can take." He definitely felt
out of control, human prey, and he hated every minute of it.
"That goes for me, too." But she was already switching off the
workstation.
By now the trek down the hill was getting to be all too familiar--the
bristly Greek scrub, the rough outcroppings. Some night birds twittered
nervously, but otherwise only their labored breathing broke the
silence. The harshness of the terrain made him think again about the
Greek character, ancient and modern. To stand up to a land like this,
you had to be tough.
Which brought his thoughts again to the dark-haired woman by his side.
Once in a while you ran across somebody with whom you absolutely
clicked. He believed in love at first sight--he had been an incorrigible
romantic all his life--and this was definitely the feeling he had now.
And he thought-- well, hoped--she felt the same. Could it be true? Maybe
it was just the fact they were working together. They were both strong-
willed, and he sensed real potential for friction.
"What are you going to do when this is all over?" she was asking, a
wistful tone entering her voice. "Just go back to sailing?"
"You sound as though you already assume it's going to be over." He
laughed, in spite of himself. Was she thinking the same thing? "I
admire your optimism. But to tell you the truth, if we live through
this, I'm hoping to try my _Odyssey_ trek all over again." He took her
hand as they navigated the stones. "Want to come along? Make it a
twosome?"
"Maybe." Her tone said she was intrigued, and she didn't drop his hand.
"It sounded pretty heroic."
"Well, it was mainly just . . . a challenge." He shrugged, continuing
on down the dark trail. "Calling it heroic is maybe a bit much."
"No way." Her voice had a wonderful finality. "I think your attempt to
recreate the voyage of Ulysses was a heroic undertaking. Period." She
paused. "You know, maybe I
shouldn't tell you this, but you remind me an awful lot of somebody I
used to know."
"Who's that?"
"His name doesn't matter, but it was Alan Harris. He was a biochemistry
professor. Tall like you, older than me. I guess I made a fool of
myself over him, looking back."