After a day and a night on another boat Gris arrives at Piraievs, the main port of Athens. Though seasick the entire trip over, Gris is relieved to be out of Muslim territory.
At least I was out from under the Prophet in the clouds. The Greek Gods live at Mount Olympus and that was far to the north. So there was some hope they wouldn't notice me passing through.
Not to mention the fact that Zeus would probably be fine with the whole adultery/rape thing. Old bastard was like the patron deity of sex offenders.
Gris is also nervous, though - he's out of bombs, so he can't cover his trail anymore. He tenses up, ready to run when someone comes up to him with a sack, but it's just a bag of drachma, his change from the ferry fare. He uses some of it to buy a suit and changes out of his stolen, parasite-infested outfit in an airport bathroom. Then he uses his "United Arab League" passport to book a flight to New York via Air Israel. "Nobody would expect anyone from the United Arab League to be traveling Air Israel. 'Confuse the trail' is an Apparatus motto."
"Don't call undue attention to yourself" apparently isn't. Also, despite that whole Pan-Arab movement gaining more ground in Hubbard's setting, the state of Israel has managed to survive. Maybe whatever war that taxi driver drove tanks in was in the Middle East?
Yes, I'm more interested in the implications of Hubbard's sloppy world-building than the actual story.
There's really not much else to say about this chapter. Gris gets on his flight, happy to be back in the warm embrace of Rockecenter, who owns most of the world's airlines, but he remains quite nervous.
But all told, it was a nerve-racking trip. People on the plane around kept darting their hands this way and that, and for a bit I was sure they were reaching for guns. Even the stewardess began to make these sudden moves.
I studied them carefully. They were scratching themselves.
THE FLEAS!
When they do land at JFK Airport, Gris gets through customs just fine - someone gives him a double take for getting off an Israeli flight with an Arab passport, but his flight bag stuffed with three types of cash and his suitcase full of guns are ignored.
I had made it to U.S. soil!
Also, the God over the U.S. is Rockecenter. So I was safe.
Gris, despite psychology teaching him that humans are soulless animals randomly generated by a godless universe, still believes that Mohammad is trying to kill him. He also continues to hold Rockecenter in high esteem despite knowing, through psychology, that the man is insane. So psychology is wrong when it comes to humans and gods, but correct when it comes to humans with god complexes.
Now to begin my retribution trail with a vengeance!
You can be forgiven for expecting Soltan Gris' Retribution Trail (hope he dies of dysentery) to begin with Heller. The truth is much worse.
Back to Chapter Three
No comments:
Post a Comment