But this was a mystery. We had been made quite welcome here, strictly red carpet. And now this!

The dock guards were just standing around doing nothing.

Then here came a car. It nosed through the demonstrators. It stopped by the gangway.

Suddenly the demonstrators realized it was stopping at the yacht.

They converged on it!

Teenie and Madison and an interpreter leaped out.

Stones flew!

Teenie and Madison struggled toward the gangway through the mob. The interpreter went sprinting off. The car driver jumped out and ran.

Suddenly from the yacht came white streams. Fire hoses! Our sailors were knocking demonstrators down left and right.

Teenie and Madison made the deck.

Demonstrators picked themselves up and fled, chased by the violent jets.

Captain Bitts's voice rang out and the fire hoses went off. I stared at the dripping, deserted dock.

Teenie and Madison came in my door. They were wet. Madison was bruised.

"Black PR," said Madison. "Somebody has uncorked the bottle. As an expert myself, I know the signs. Who would ever have thought I would be at the receiving end of a black PR campaign."

Captain Bitts was at the door. "I hope that didn't alarm you," he said. "This happens to a lot of yachts, especially when they have Americans on board. It happens most often right after a visit to an American consulate but nobody here was there to renew passports. Are you all right, Mr. Madison?"

"Wet," said Madison.

"Better than in a hospital," said Bitts. "I'm glad they weren't carrying guns."

The wireless officer was behind him, shoving a message in his hands. Bitts read it. "Local VHF," he said, "from the harbor master. He's requesting that we sail as soon as possible to avoid further damage to his port."

"Black PR," said Madison. "The only people who are that expert at it is the U. S. State Department. Don't even bother to ask if the harbor master did that on the orders of the American consul. I know because that's how they work."

"A government shouldn't attack its own citizens," I said. "That's psychotic!"

"Of course it's psychotic," said Madison, "but whoever said the American government was sane? You mark my words, the American consul this very minute is handing out press releases to the Greek papers saying we're Turkish saboteurs. I'm the pro, Smith. You aren't."

"How do you know this?" I demanded.

He lifted his hand. He was holding a soaked placard all crumpled up. On one side, in Greek, it said, TOOLS OF YANKEE IMPERIALISM. On the back, in English, in very small letters it said, Printed in the USA.

"Whoever would have thought," repeated Madison, shaking his head sadly, "that I would be the target of a black PR campaign. Me, the expert. Well, let me use your radio teletype, Captain Bitts, and I'll start up the machine guns. If they want war, I'll give'm war."

"What do you intend to do?" I gasped, appalled at the idea of being caught in the line of fire.

"Do?" said Madison. "Well, hell, Smith. You can see you aren't a pro. I'll throw a torrent of press releases into the Russian Tass news agency, exposing a Yankee plot to get Turkey and Greece involved in war to sell both sides munitions and then I'll hire a hit man to assassinate the Greek Premier, have a Turkish flag hanging from the rifle and CIA credentials in his pocket. So that when the second hit man I hire kills him, I can release through Tass..."

"Hold it!" I wailed. "You'll have Russia and the U. S. involved in atomic war next."

"What's wrong with that?" said Madison.

"We'd be in the middle of it!" I screamed.

"Oh, I can tell you aren't a pro, Smith. I'm the one that got the bruises here. They want trouble, I can deliver. Count on me, Smith. Now, Captain..."

Yikes, he was dangerous!

Teenie had a hand on Madison's sleeve. "Maddie, you're all wore out from failing to climb Mount Olympus. Get your pinkie off the panic button. All we have to do is sail. Not all ports are hostile to the Turks. Egypt has been governed by Turkish officers for ages, you told me so yourself. And if they start a beef in Alexandria, Egypt, you can have your atomic war. Okay?"

"All right," said Madison grudgingly. "I just don't like some punk in the State Department to think he can out-PR me. It's a matter of professional pride. I am going to send a radio telex to the Greek papers, though, and picture-transmit them this placard. They'll tell the American consul they got it and he'll order them to hold all press and somebody in the State Department will get fired. The American government is too goofy to live. Trying to black PR me. I'll get on it."

"I'll tell the harbor master we're sailing, then," said Captain Bitts.

"And lay your course for Egypt like we discussed," said Teenie.

"Aye, aye," said Captain Bitts.

Teenie and I were left alone.

My head was churning, my nerves were raw. There was some loose end I hadn't grasped. Then I had it. If they sailed for Alexandria, Egypt, direct from here across the Aegean Sea, they'd get awfully close to Turkey. I said so with a sudden yelp.

"Nonsense," said Teenie. "I helped lay out the course myself. I'm an expert now, you know. The closest we will come to Turkey will be the Greek island of Chios, the home of Homer. And if we leave in a couple of hours, we'll pass by there tomorrow night in total darkness."

"For Gods' sakes," I begged. "Don't let me fall into Turkish hands."

She smiled an enigmatic smile. She said, "Now get this loud and clear. If it even looks like you're going to, Inky, I will handle it. Trust me."

I fell back on my pillow. I pretended to be mollified. But, oh, how well I knew the chanciness of life. I was going to have to be awfully alert if I was going to live through this.

Danger was in the wind!

We fled through the night and when the day dawned we were far out in the Aegean and the only sign of Greece was a rocky reef on the starboard being beaten by the waves as we passed it by.

A swell was running and up ahead lowering clouds spoke of rain.

Steadfastly, I kept to my bunk as we plowed to the southeast. The slight lift of the deck from time to time was, to me, a threat: the ship at any moment might really start to roll.

I ventured on deck in a bathrobe. It was strange: nobody was hounding me to exercise. Some subtle change had come over the ship: A sailor hosing down a deck did not smile or speak.

The vast dome of the sky lay upon an empty circle of sea. I crept up a ladder toward the bridge, fearfully peering off our port bow to be sure there was no sign of Turkey. I did not enter into the enclosed pilothouse but stood in the wing.

A movement caught my eye: the switch of a ponytail.

Teenie. She was sitting in the captain's pilot chair looking forward through the bridge windows. There was no sign of Captain Bitts. It was very strange: had she taken over the ship?

The steersman glanced my way and I retreated.

I knew it would not be until night when we would come close to Turkey but still, it made me nervous just to feel that it was there to the east, waiting like some monster of the deep to devour me. Eerie. The feeling was almost palpable. In imagination I could hear the snap of its teeth that would be followed by a grinding sound as it chewed me to bits.

I went back to my bedchamber. A feeling of dread was crawling in my bones.

Enemies.

I had enemies, that was sure.

I began to doubt Madison's theory of why we had had to leave that port. I knew down deep it must be some foe of mine who thirsted for revenge.

Idleness permits the world to fill with hostile shadows. With sudden resolution, I decided to think this thing through. I must take an orderly approach to still the queasy fear.