The Vulcan Disaster

We got ourselves a nice bonfire going, with the flames roaring upward and setting masts and sails afire, before we made ready to go over the side. We put the two crewmen in the skiff Shimon and Alexandra had come over on and set them adrift in the still waters of the bay; then, hand in hand, we just stepped over the side of the Vulcan and swam lazily away out to sea. We had a feeling that some other island might turn out to be a little more hospitable at the moment, given our circumstances. I didn’t exactly have the latitude and longitude memorized, but I had a pretty good idea of where we were, and islands dotted the area like ants on a picnic blanket. It didn’t seem to matter; any direction but south would bring us to someplace interesting, and we weren’t in any hurry to be anywhere... “Sonia,” I said when I pulled close to her, “are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“What’s that, Harry darling?”

“It’s Nick.”

“No, it’s my Harry. And I’m Vicki Weiner, and I had Leon get us a whole new set of papers to prove it.”

“I get the feeling you’re ahead of me.”

“Way ahead of you, Harry my sweet. When we got the news about the ship this morning, Leon called David Hawk...”

“Where did Leon ever hear about the special line?” I said. “We’d better tighten up the ship...”

“Nonsense, Leon’s used it for years. A washing machine manufacturer this month. Westinghouse, I believe...”

“Westinghouse?” I said, turning over on my back and kicking lazily. “You don’t mean Maytag?”

“No,” she said. “Leon didn’t say anything about that at all. He...”

“Ha!” I said. I said it so loud I saw her lift her head up out of the water to see what was the matter. “No, nothing. I just found out something pleasant.” That meant the Amalgamated Press and Wire Services were back in operation on Dupont Circle — with David Hawk at the editor’s desk, running AXE out of that phony press-service front again. Everything was back to normal.

“Harry darling,” she said. “I was going to tell you. I thought of something pleasant too, and I’ve been trying to tell you, and you keep interrupting. Harry, you’re on leave. So am I. Leon and Mr. Hawk don’t need either one of us for another three weeks. We don’t even have to leave our addresses with anyone. Isn’t that pleasant?”

“That is more than pleasant, Vicki. Remind me to kiss you the moment we get out of the water.”

“If that’s all you’re going to do I might as well not have bothered. Oh, well. Where do you want to go, Harry? Delos? Samos? Corfu?”

I looked up at the stars, feeling just fine. “You lead the way. I don’t intend to make another decision for three weeks. I’m on vacation.” I fluttered my swim-fins apathetically, not giving a damn about anything.

“You mean I get to make all the decisions?” she said. “And you’ll abide by them? Really?”

“Mmmm,” I said. I had a short attention span. There was the Big Dipper, and...

“Where we stay, and what we eat, and when we...”

“Yes ma’am.” I wasn’t paying the slightest attention. Star light, star bright, first star I’ve seen tonight...

“I think,” she said, swimming up alongside me, “I’m going to like this...”