* * * * *
Coming out. Sound before sight and I heard the low voices. My eyes were
already open. Nebulous shapes, now sharpening.
I was in a small room with gleaming metal walls and I was on my back on
a sort of table. Three men were in the room with me, standing over me.
Apollo ... the bull-necked man ... the man with the nose like a crane.
Apollo was smiling. Pour water over that smile and immediately a film
of ice would form.
"A spy," said Apollo, looking into my open eyes. "Another damn spy."
I shook my head. Ridiculous, but that's what I did. The movement pulled
at the wound in the back of my neck and sharp pain, starting there,
shot through my whole body. I grimaced and groaned.
Apollo laughed, then suddenly brought his club hard across my face. My
cheekbone seemed to make a crunching sound.
"A spy, a damned spy," said Apollo.
"We got a confession for you to sign," said the Crane.