Lewis parked his bulk heavily in a chair facing the bunk. "God, it's hot in here. Don't these damn floating museums carry air-conditioning?"

Pitt enjoyed a tinge of sadistic pleasure at Lewis' steaming discomfort. "Sorry, Colonel, the unit must be overtaxed. I have beer coming that should help make the heat a bit more endurable."

"Right now," Lewis snorted, "I'd even settle for a glass of Ganges River water."

Giordino leaned over the bunk. "For chrissakes, Dirk, what mischief did you get yourself into after you left us last night? Gunn's radio message said something about a mad dog."

"I'll tell you," said Pitt. "But first I need a couple of questions answered myself." He looked at Lewis. "Colonel, do you know Bruno von Till?"

"Do I know von Till?" Lewis repeated. "Only slightly. I was introduced to him once and have seen him occasionally at parties given by the local dignitaries, but that's about all. From what I gather, he's something of a mystery."

"Do you, by chance, know what his business is?" Pitt asked hopefully.

"He owns a small fleet of ships." Lewis paused for a moment, closing his eyes in thought. Then they shot open, transmitting a look of sudden recollection, "Minerva, yes that's it, Minerva Lines: the name of the fleet."

"I've never heard of it," Pitt murmured.

"Small wonder," snorted Lewis. "Judging from the decrepit rust buckets I've seen smoking by Thasos, I doubt whether anyone else knows of its existence either."

Pitt's eyes narrowed. "Von Till's ships cruise along the Thasos coastline?"

Lewis nodded. "Yes, one passes every week or so. They're easy to spot; they all have a big yellow 'M' painted on the smoke funnels."

"Do they anchor off shore or dock at Liminas?"

Lewis shook his head. "Neither. Every ship I've bothered to notice came from the south, circled the island and reversed course south again."

"Without stopping?"

"They lie-to for perhaps half an hour, no more, right off the point by the old ruins."

Pitt raised up out of the bunk. He looked questioningly at Giordino, then Lewis. "That's odd."

"Why?" asked Lewis, lighting a cigar.

"Thasos is at least five hundred miles north of the main Suez Canal shipping lanes," Pitt said slowly. "Why should von Till send his ships on a thousand-mile detour?"

"I don't know," Giordino said impatiently. "And frankly, I could care even less. Why not stop this verbal screwing around and tell us about your nocturnal escapades? What has this von Till character got to do with last night?"

Pitt stood and stretched, wincing from the stiff soreness. His mouth had a sand and gravel taste; he could not recall when his throat had been so dry before. Where was that dumb kid with the beer? Pitt caught sight of Giordino's cigarettes, and he motioned for one. He lit it and inhaled, increasing the rotten taste in his mouth.