The Age of Zeus

58. PRODIGAL DAUGHTER

S am and Ramsay aboard Captain Fuller's fishing smack, again, but now beneath a gleaming blue early-summer sky, and the swell in the strait gentle and sparkling. A pod of porpoises accompanied them for part of the journey, sporting in the boat's bow wave, and the harbour town they left behind was getting into the swing of the tourist season — freshly painted shopfronts, bunting laced across the streets, the amusement arcades whizzing and popping, fish and chips on every corner, ice cream for sale.

Signs of brightness and hope everywhere, but not on Sam's drawn, brooding face, nor on Ramsay's, who winced every time the smack bucked and jarred his bandaged arm.

Black-and-green Bleaney loomed out of the sea, solemn, shining. Nobody was on the jetty to greet them. Captain Fuller began unloading boxes of supplies and humping them up to the bunker entrance on a porter's trolley. His two passengers went ahead and disappeared underground.

McCann was the first person they came across, and his unconfined joy at seeing Sam again almost managed to raise a smile from her.

"The boss told us you were coming back," he gushed, "but I said I wouldn't believe it 'til I saw you with my own eyes." His grin faded. "I heard about what happened with Zaina. Horrible. That Aphrodite bitch. And your face has been on the news, did you know that? Wanted woman, you are. Fugitive from justice. Police keen for you to help them with their enquiries. That's got to feel weird, jumping the fence like that, hasn't it?"

"As usual, Jamie, you never quite know when to stop talking."

"No, I don't, I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. We wouldn't have you any other way. Where is Landesman?"

McCann shrugged. "You could try his office."

En route there, they bumped into Patanjali, who offered a courteous nod, and Hamel, who enfolded Sam in a fierce embrace then, without a word, carried on her way.

Landesman was at his desk. He rose.

"Sam… I don't know what to say."

"As long as you don't gloat, you can say anything you like."

"Why would I gloat? This is a moment for celebration, not recrimination. I'm delighted to have you back. The prodigal daughter returns. Finally we can get things rolling again."

"Before we do, I have two conditions."

"Name them. Anything."

"One: Aphrodite is mine. No ifs, ands or buts. I want Apollo and Artemis as well, but Aphrodite is top of the list."

"Done."

"Two: as before, no ops without me."

"Also done."

"That means you take orders from me. Tethys outranks Cronus at all times and in all places."

"I don't foresee having a problem with that," said Landesman.

"One more thing I need to clear up. You meant for me to go to the Hellenium and parley, didn't you? It was no accident Rick overhearing Lillicrap mentioning Dionysus and Aphrodite's invitation."

"In a spirit of full candour," said Landesman, "yes, I did hope that Rick would pass on word to you about the parley offer, and I did anticipate that you would go."

"Why?"

"So you would see that nothing would come of it, that talking peace with the Olympians is futile. Please believe me, though, when I tell you that I had no idea the outcome would be as it was. I know how close you and Zaina had become, and what Aphrodite did is unforgivable. It was never my intention that a Titan would suffer as a result of you meeting with her and Dionysus. I simply wished to make a point."

"You made it well. Better than you could ever have imagined."

"I won't deny that I'm glad this has brought you back into the fold," said Landesman, "and left you more resolute than ever. Sometimes the darkest clouds have the most brightly silver linings."

Sam glanced at the desk. The photo of Xander Landesman and his mother had been removed.

"Yes," said Landesman, following her gaze. "And with it goes any last vestige of sentimentality I may have had towards the boy. At the back of my mind there's always been the hope that, in spite of everything, Xander and I could have some sort of rapprochement. Enough of me remembers the joy he used to give me, the happiness I found in him when he was small, that I still harboured notions of bringing our dispute to an amicable conclusion. Or certainly, that's how I used to feel. I was clinging to the idea that, at the last, we would find some way of settling our differences that didn't entail the death of one or other of us. But" — a profound, heartfelt sigh — "it's not to be. Not now.

"Zeus gave Aphrodite the order to brainwash one of you over the phone, I'm sure of it. She wouldn't have done it except on his say-so. And to me that is the final straw. A truly unacceptable, insidious act. The mark of a coward and a rat. When he was a boy, I adored Xander. Now he's an adult, and has turned out the way he has, I believe more than ever that the only responsible course of action is to wipe him off the face of the planet."

If he was trying to elicit agreement or sympathy from either Sam or Ramsay, he got none. "I'm going to check on the Minotaur," Sam said.

The monster, languishing in his foetid pen, leapt to his feet and capered with glee the moment he laid eyes on Sam. His — yes, his — excited lowing sounded like peals of laughter, deafening in the confined space. He had lost weight, a lot of it, and sores had broken out on his muzzle and chest. Sam spent several minutes scratching the top of his head; he wouldn't let her stop. And it was only after being petted for some considerable time that he thought to eat the food she had brought.

Sam noted the heaps of untouched, rotting vegetable matter that littered the floor of the pen. "Hunger strike, eh?" she said. "You poor thing. I don't blame you. But I'm back now, and I'm not abandoning you again. I'm staying 'til this is all over."

The Minotaur snorted approvingly, as if he under-stood, and resumed munching a head of cabbage.

Then, mid-mouthful, he stopped.

He looked up. Cocked his head.

His red eyes were wide and wary.

"What is it? What's up?"

Stupid to ask questions of a speechless and uncomprehending beast, but Sam did it anyway. She was unnerved. The Minotaur had become agitated, as if he sensed something, detected something she could not. Something wrong.

Then he let out a deep, growling low. The ridge of coarse hair leading down from his scalp to between his shoulderblades bristled.

Danger.

Sam was on her feet in an instant, making for the command centre. The Minotaur lumbered after her.

And at that point, all through the bunker, alarms started to sound.