The air was warmer and the temperature had not improved even though there was now a stong breeze that had picked up substantially in the late afternoon; like clockwork the Livas had arrived, hot dust-laden winds originating in Libya. They were a blessing and yet a curse for Illya as the boat began to rock gently enough to make the Russian become nauseaous and just a little bit light-headed. He cursed himself as usual for his infirmity.
Napoleon shook his head as he watched his partner leaning over the side in preparation for his stomach to wreak havoc. Sometime the gentlest motion made Illya feel worse than as if it had been a rough sea.
"Take it easy tovarisch," he called sympathetically as he stepped down into the small motor boat with Aeneas.
Illya felt disinclined to speak at the moment and simply waved his acknowledgement to him, then took a sip of warm cola to sooth his stomach.
"Ugh." he groaned to himself. He refused to take dramamine as it would make him too drowsy and would just have to make due with his ginger tablets and soda, He then changed his mind, calling out to Napoleon. "Be careful my friend." He did not like the idea of Solo going off on his own to face the good doctor.
The small dingy shoved off, ten minutes later approching the dock where Aeneas tied off as Solo climbed up, stepping out onto the white stone pier at the base of the cliffs on which the capital of Santorini was perched. One of the dolphins had followed alongside, then swam off as the little boat neared the port, spewing out a blast of water from its blowhole as its grey and white form descended beneath the aqua-hued waters.
"Póte tha prépei na epistépsoun K'yrios Solo_when should I return Mister Solo?"
Greek was not one of his stronger languages, but Napoleon was at least able to understand and answer the simple question.
"Tha kléso_ I will call." he said, holding up his communicatior pen.
Aeneas looked at him strangely, not understanding the purpose of having been shown the silver pen. Then Napoleon chuckled to himself, having forgotten that the boy was not familiar with U.N.C.L.E. technology.
He gave himself ample time for the walk up the cliffside, having been warned that it was 600 steps to reach Fira, passing a few donkeys that lined the path as they waited to carry tourists. The wind was at least helping his comfort level as he strolled with his tan linen jacket draped lazily over his shoulder. It was near six-thirty in the evening, sunset wouldn't be far off and Napoleon had heard they were spectacular in this part of the Aegean. A few dogs and cats wandered along, some keeping him company on his journey upwards.
Stronghilos' villa was in the town of Firostefani and Solo was assured by Hektor and Spyros that it was withing walking distance. There was no clear demarcation as to where Fira ended and the next village began, though the minor crowds and hustle of Fira seemed to disappate as his walk became more serene and peaceful. He assumed at that point he had entered Firostefani, lying on the crest of a hill, giving a nice view as he turned, looking back down to Fira.
He saunterd past the adobe-like white-washed stucco houses, with their soft curved exteriors built one on top of the other, he passed the chapel of Agios Ioannis Apokefalisthseis with its dome painted a bright cobalt blue. Beside the dome was a bell tower with three large brass bells that chimed soulfully with a deep resonance.
Napoleon needed to remind himself for a moment not to get caught up in the scenic beauty of Santorini. Illya had once said that in all their travels, they rarely had the time to enjoy the places they had been.
"He was right," Napoleon thought, "this was a place he would choose to stop at for once," as its serenity called out to him longingly. "Perhaps he and Bella could honeymoon here?" he smiled as he thought of his future wife and mother to be, finding that he was missing her.
The prominent features of the homes and mansions all seemed to be high walls and inner courtyards built for privacy, and solid wooden doors set within arched entrance ways. He was told it was once to have guarded against pirates. And now he supposed that Stronghilos was a different sort of pirate living among them unawares.
He continued walking along the narrow cobblestoned pathways, lined with plain terracotta Grecian urns and planters filled with greenery and flowers until he finally reached Stronghilos' villa. It was larger than the other houses, which came as to no surprise to Napoleon. Thrush always like their ostentatious creature comforts as its location offered the man a spectaular panoramic view of the island and the inner bay.
Solo walked up a short flight of stairs to the arched entrance way, taking hold of a brass door knocker and tapping three times to alert those within of his arrival.
The heavy wooden doors opened slowly as he was greeted by an auburn-haired beauty dressed in a clinging one-piece red bathing suit with a diaphonous sarong wrapped around her waist.
"Hello," she smiled, " I am Astarte Lovely you must be Mr. Vaughn."
"You most certainly are, " Napoleon said, smiling charmingly at her as his libido slipped into gear. "Astarte, hmm. Interesting name associated with a deity of lust and the goddess Aphrodite."
"Why does it not surprise me that you are familiar with the goddess of love?" she smiled back enticingly; her near golden eyes sparkling at him.
Illya helped the others unfurl the sails, readying to set course for the short journey by water to the southern tip of the island and the location of the mysterious grotto. He was not moving as well has he normally would, staggering slightly from his dizziness as Hektor finally told the Russian to just sit down and take it easy as he was looking to green around the gills.
The heat and the seasickness were beginning to take their tolls on Kuryakin. He positoned himself in the bow of the boat as Aeneas brought the boat about catching the the wind, filling the white sails and letting the sea air cool him down.
The small pod of dolphins that had taken interest in the boat were now travelling along side it at a fast clip, periodically one of them would leap effortlessly from the water as they seemed to be racing with the yacht, matching it's speed without difficulty. Illya watched them with curiosity as they swam on either side of the bow staying clear of its wake; they in turn seemed to be watching him. Their presence at least for the moment, distracted the Russian from his discomfiture.
It took but a short time for them to reach their destination with a wind around 18 knots driving the boat across the water. Aeneas brought the yacht about, swinging it in to face the spectacular red beach, so named because of its coloring created by the red and black volcanic rocks that formed it. The cliff behind the narrow strand looked as though God had simply taken a great scoop with his hand, digging into the red surface.
The dropped anchor with a few small fishing boats scattered in the waters around them, then they made ready the motor boat to take them into shore. Illya was feeling overwhelmed by the heat as he pulled his t-shirt off then grabbed a mask and snorkle, putting it on, then donned a pair of flippers.
"I am swimming in," he announced to his companions as he placed one hand on the railing, hopping over the side and into the water with a small splash. The water was warm but still refreshing as he took a deep breath, descending to the shallow bottom for a quick look.
It seemed rather uninteresting at first, lacking color for the most part as black rocks dotted the sandy bottom. It was the rays of sunlight that caught his attention as they beamed down through the turquoise water, making it seem to dance. As Illya came closer to the shore line he began to spot more sea life, an octopus swirled along the sand, then a loggerhead turtle with its bright yellow underbelly swam past less than twenty feet away in the crystal clear water.
One of the dolphins approached him, looking at the slight blond human as he swam along. Illya reached out to the creature, as it allowed him fearlessly to pet it on its snout, calling to the man with high pitched squeeks, squeals and clicks. He then found himself surrounded by fish with bulging eyes and long dorsal fins...blennies, of the family of Blenidae his edemic memory recalled. Small and colorful, tending to stay near the bottom close to freshwater springs. They swam close to him, not frightened at all; their behavior odd as it was not typical of small fish.
There were a few tourists on the red and black pebbled beach, sunning themselves while laying on towels as the Russian slowly emerged from the water, removing his diving gear as he walked through the corridor of larger rocks that lined the shore, then onto the beach, turning the heads of a few of the female tourists as his white bathing trunks clung to his slightly pink skin that glistened wet in the bright sunlight and on this beach the sun seemed to beat down particularly strong.
Hektor and Spyros were already waitng for him, having tied off the boat.
They carried their snorkling gear with them as well as Illya approached, grabbing a bag from the boat, containing the equipment they'd need to enter the grotto. A few hundred yards up the beach there was a rocky outcrop that was prominent as it was white stone among the red volcanic plates that made up the cliff behind the beach, just beyond that point, Hektor and Spyros lead Illya back into the water.
It was a short dive beneath the surface, to a small cave that lie hidden beneath the outcrop. One could miss it easily if you did not know it was there as it blended in with the black rocks beneath the surface. Beams of sunlight shimmered down, dancing through the water as the three men slowly approached the entrance, with bits of sea life and debris reflecting in the water as they floated past like dust.
Once through the small entrance they continued into the dark tunnel, there they turned on waterproof lanterns as they moved onwards, illuminating the small specs in the water as they drifted past, then when the surface become visible, the men went up for air.
They continued swimming through the darkness until they emerged into the hidden grotto; climbing up at its rocky ledge and out of the water. There was a light source above their heads, a hole in the ceiling of the cave allowing sunlight to beam down, and the sound of a continuous drip, drip, drip of water could be heard echoing throughout the chamber as it ran along the rocks then landing in the pool.
"Échoumd dádes_we have torches." Hektor said, producing a cigarette lighter.
The dozen or so primitive torches once lit illuminated the grotto spectacularly, revealing its perfectly preserved contents. It was filled with life-sized bronze and marble statuary, fine terracotta pithos urns decorated in stylized gemetric patterns, bilingual amphoras black with red figures then others with black figures decortaing their surfaces depicting heroic figures from Greek legend, "Similar to specimens found at the Knossos Palace on Crete," Illya thought.
There were bronze breast plates and greaves, swords and spears. A full sized lyre, perfectly intact blue-green glassware, mosiac dishes in which stipes of rose, green, purple, yellow and turquoise glass were coiled into spirals then melted together, dishes filled with coins and jewelry. It was a priceless discovery.
Illya thought for a moment that the back wall to the grotto had an unusual sparkle to it, but his attention was drawn away from it immediately when
the Russian's gaze fell upon the complete and intact specimen of the Antikythera sitting atop a carefully carved marble pedestal.
The shining, bronze mechanism was encased in a wooden box, with a handle protruding from one side. Illya reached out, turning the it, smiling as the dials on the front of the device moved effortlessly. He looked at the back, seeing a set of two displays, the engraving dividing one into days, months and years on the top dial, the lower dial giving the times of eclipses that would occur during throughout a year.
It was exactly as historians had proposed, a computer to calculate astronomical events. Illya was perplexed...what was it about this object that had T.H.R.U.S.H. so interested in it?"