I only feel - Farewell! - Farewell!

stopped dead in midair, the gleaming point only two inches from Andrea's chest. There was a sudden scream of agony, the ominous cracking of wrist bones as the giant Greek tightened his grip, and then Andrea had the blade between finger and thumb, had removed the knife with the tender, reproving care of a parent saving a well-loved but irresponsible child from himself. Then the knife was reversed, the point was at the Levantine's throat and Andrea was smiling own pleasantly into the dark and terror stricken eyes. Miller let out a long breath, half-sigh, half-whistle. "Well, now," he murmured, "I guess mebbe Andrea has done that sort of thing before?" "I guess maybe he has," Mallory mimicked. "Let's have a closer look at exhibit A, Andrea." Andrea brought his prisoner close up to the table, well within the circle of light. He stood there sullenly before them, a thin, ferret-faced man, black eyes dulled In pain and fear, left hand cradling his crushed wrist. "How long do you reckon this fellow's been outside, Andrea?" Mallory asked. Andrea ran a massive hand through his thick, dark, curling hair, heavily streaked with grey above the temples. "I cannot be sure, Captain. I imagined I heard a noisea kind of shuffleabout ten minutes ago, but r thought my ears were playing tricks. Then I heard the same sound a minute ago. So I am afraid" "Ten minutes, eh?" Mallory nodded thoughtfully, then looked at the prisoner. "What's your name?" he asked sharply. "What are you doing here?" There was no reply. There were only the sullen eyes, the sullen silencea silence that gave way to a sudden yelp of pain as Andrea cuffed the side of his head. "The Captain is asking you a question," Andrea said reproachfully. He cuffed him again, harder this time. "Answer the Captain." The stranger broke into rapid, excitable speech, gesticulating wildly with both hands. The words were quite unintelligible. Andrea sighed, shut off the torrent by the simple expedient of almost encircling the scrawny throat with his left hand. Mallory looked questioningly at Andrea. The giant shook his head. "Kurdistan or Armenian, Captain, I think. But I don't understand it." "I certainly don't," Mallory admitted. "Do you speak English?" he asked suddenly. Black, hate-filled eyes glared back at him in silence. Andrea cuffed him again. "Do you speak English?" poloroid 5.1 pixel digital camera Mallory repeatea relentlessly. "Eenglish? Eenglish?" Shoulders and upturned palms lifted in the age-old gesture of incomprehension. "Ka Eenglish!" "He says he don't speak English," Miller drawled. "Maybe he doesn't and maybe he does," Mallory said evenly. "All we know is that he has been listening and that we can't take any chances. There are far too many lives at stake." His voice suddenly hardened, the eyes were grim and pitiless. "Andrea!" "Captain?" "You have the knife. Make it clean and quick. Between the shoulder blades!" Stevens cried out in horror, sent his chair crashing back as be leapt to his feet. "Good God, sir, you can't" He broke off and stared in amazement at the sight of the prisoner catapulting himself bodily across the room to crash into a distant corner, one arm up-curved in rigid defence, stark, unreasoning panic limned in every feature of his face. Slowly Stevens looked away, saw the triumphant grin on Andrea's face, the dawning comprehension in Brown's and Miller's. Suddenly he felt a complete fool Characteristically, Miller was the first to speak. "Waal, waal, whaddya know! Mebbe he does speaka da Eenglish after all." "Maybe he does," Mallory admitted. "A man doesn't spend ten minutes with his ear glued to a keyhole if he doesn't understand a word that's being said. . . . Give Matthews a call, will you, Brown?" The sentry appeared in the doorway a few seconds later. "Get Captain Briggs here, will you, Matthews?" he asked. "At once, please." The soldier hesitated. "Captain Briggs has gone to bed, sir. He left strict orders that he wasn't to be disturbed." "My heart bleeds for Captain Briggs and his broken slumbers," Mallory said acidly. "He's had more sleep in a day than I've had in the past week." He glanced at his watch and the heavy brows came down in a straight line over the tired, brown eyes. "We've no time to waste. Get him here at once. Understand? At once!" Matthews saluted and hurried away. Miller cleared his throat and clucked his tongue sadly. "These hotels are all the same. The goin's-onyou'd never believe your eyes. Remember once I was at a convention in

But lives, as saints have died, a martyr.

involved. Not to the population? Killashandra asked, surprised at Trags emphasis. Trag shook his heavy head. Populations are easy to produce, but habitable planets are relatively scarce. He indicated that Lars should continue. So, your report will be considered, deliberated upon, and then? It may indeed take time, Lars Dahl, but the Federated Council has outlawed the use of subliminal conditioning. There is absolutely no question in my mind that action will be taken against the Optherian Elders. A government which must resort to such means to maintain domestic satisfaction has lost the right to govern. Its Charter will be revoked. Theres no danger that you and Killashandra will be restrained from leaving? Lars asked abruptly. Why should we be? Can they have any suspicion that someone knows that they maintain control by illicit means? Comgail did, Killashandra said, even if he was killed before he could pass on the information. Whoever killed the man must wonder if Comgail had accomplices. Lars shook his head positively. Comgails only contact was Hauness and Hauness didnt reveal that until after Comgails death. I knew that some drastic measure was planned. Not what it was. Tell me, Lars, Trag asked, does any one suspect that you are aware of the subliminals? Lars shook his head vigorously. How? I always pretended the correct responses after concerts. Father didnt warn me until I was sent to the Mainland for my education. His warning was accompanied by a description of the retribution I would suffer, from him as well as the Council, if I ever revealed my knowledge unnecessarily. Lars grinned. You may be sure I told no one Besides your father, who knows? Trag asked. Or dont you know that? Lars nodded. Hauness and his intimates. As a trained hypnotherapist, he caught on to the subliminals but had the sense to keep silent. It is quite possible that others in his profession know it, but if they do, they dont broadcast it either. What could they do? Especially when I doubt that many Optherians know that subliminals are against Federated Law! The last was spoken in a bitter tone. Who would suspect that music, the Ultimate Career on Optheria, can be perverted to ensure the perpetuation of a stagnant government? Then there was the almost insoluble problem of trying to get word off Optheria, to someone with sufficient status to get Council attention. Complaint from people who could be time lapse digital movie camera considered a few maladjusted citizens and every society has some carries little weight. It was Hauness who devised a way to get messages off Optheria for us. Post hypnotic requests yes, yes, I know, and dont think it was an easy matter for him to violate his ethics as a physician-healer, but we were getting desperate. A suggestion to receive and later mail a letter from the nearest transfer point seemed a minor infraction. I am certain that Hauness only capitulated because Nahia was suffering so much distress. She had to cope with such a devastating increase of suicide potentials. Shes an empath, Trag You must encounter Nahia, Trag, before you leave Optheria, Killashandra said, twining her fingers reassuringly about Larss. He gave her a quick and grateful glance. Thats why, if you would go to Ironwood to check out the organ there, you would surely encounter Nahia and Hauness, Lars said eagerly. I would? Trag asked. Quite likely, if you were suddenly taken ill. Trag regarded him steadily. Crystal singers do not succumb to planet-based diseases. Not even food poisoning? Lars was not to be deterred. And thats a likelihood if you eat often with the Elders. Or do I mean starvation? Killashandra remarked. That way, you can warn Nahia and Hauness, and they can alert others. Lars leaned forward, eagerly waiting for Trags decision. I couldnt save myself at the expense of my friends. How large a group do you have, Lars Dahl? Trag asked. I dont know at the moment. We had about two thousand, and more were being investigated. The Elders search and seize to find Killashandra reduced our ranks considerably. Regret for having provoked the Elders to such action colored Larss expression. He squared his shoulders, accepting that responsibility. I fervently hope more sacrifices will not be required. Do your islanders perpetrate many outrages on the Main land? Outrages on the Mainland? Lars burst out laughing. We leave the Mainland to stew in its own juice! If you wish to punish an island child, you threaten to send him to a Mainland school. What crimes were being laid on our beaches? Crimes hinted at darkly but never specified, apart from the attack

"O save, O save, O sheriff," he said,

with a speed and noiseless efficiency that excited Turzig's professional admiration, chagrined though he was. Securely tied hand and foot, he lay in a corner of the room, not yet gagged. "I think I understand now why your High Command chose you for this task, Captain Mallory. If anyone could succeed, you wouldbut you must fail. The impossible must always remain so. Nevertheless, you have a great team." "We get by," Mallory said modestly. He took a last look round the room, then grinned down at Stevens. "Ready to take off on your travels again, young man, or do you find this becoming rather monotonous?" "Ready when you are, sir." Lying on a stretcher which Louki had miraculously procured, he sighed in bliss. "First-class travel, this time, as befits an officer. Sheer luxury. I don't mind how far we go!" "Speak for yourself," Miller growled morosely. He had been allocated first stint at the front or heavy end of the stretcher. But the quirk of his eyebrows robbed the words of all offence. "Right then, we're off. One last thing. Where is the camp radio, Lieutenant Turzig?" "So you can smash it, I suppose?" "Precisely." "I have no idea." "What if I threaten to blow your head off?" "You won't." Turzig smiled, though the smile was a trifle lopsided. "Given certain circumstances, you would kill me as you would a fly. But you wouldn't kill a man for refusing such information." "You haven't as much to learn as your late and unlamented captain thought," Mallory admitted. "It's not all that important. . . . I regret we have to do all this. I trust we do not meet againnot, at least, until the war is over. Who knows, some day we might even go climbing together." He signed to Louki to fix Turzig's gag and walked quickly out of the room. Two minutes later they had cleared the barracks and were safely lost in the darkness and the olive groves that stretched to the south of Margaritha. When they cleared the groves, a long time later, it was almost dawn. Already the black silhouette of Kostos was softening in the first feathery greyness of the coming day. The wind was from the south, and warm, and the snow was beginning to melt on the hills. CHAPTER 11 Wednesday 14001600 All day long they lay hidden in the carob grove, a thick clump of stunted, disney digital imaging camera software gnarled trees that clung grimly to the treacherous, scree-strewn slope abutting what Louki called the "Devil's Playground." A poor shelter and an uncomfortable one, but in every other way all they could wish for: it offered concealment, a first-class defensive position immediately behind, a gentle breeze drawn up from the sea by the sun-baked rocks to the south, shade from the sun that rode from dawn to dusk in a cloudless skyand an incomparable view of a sundrenched, shimmering Aegean. Away to their left, fading through diminishing shades of blue and indigo and violet into faraway nothingness, stretched the islands of the Lerades, the nearest of them, Maidos, so close that they could see isolated fisher cottages sparkling whitely in the sun: through that narrow, intervening gap of water would pass the ships of the Royal Navy in just over a day's time. To the right, and even farther away, remote, featureless, back-dropped by the towering Anatolian mountains, the coast of Turkey hooked north and west in a great curving scimitar: to the north itself, the thrusting spear of Cape Demirci, rock-rimmed but dimpled with sand coves of white, reached far out into the placid blue of the Aegean: and north again beyond the Cape, haze-blurred in the purple distance, the island of Kheros lay dreaming on the surface of the sea. It was a breath-taking panorama, a heart-catching beauty sweeping majestically through a great semi-circle over the sunlit sea. But Mallory had no eyes for it, had spared it only a passing glance when he had come on guard less than half an hour previously, just after two o'clock. He had dismissed it with one quick glance, settled by the bole of a tree, gazed for endless minutes, gazed until his eyes ached with strain atwhat he had so long waited to see. Had waited to see and come to destroythe guns of the fortress of Navarone. The town of Navaronea town of from four to five thousand people, Mallory judgedlay sprawled round the deep, volcanic crescent of the harbour, a crescent so deep, so embracing, that it was almost a complete circle with only a narrow bottleneck of an entrance to the north-west, a gateway dominated by searchlights and mortar and machine-gun batteries on either side. Less than three miles distant to the north-east from the carob grove, every detail, every street, every building, every caique and launch in the harbour were clearly visible to Mallory and ho