Aphrodite was inside the Nausicaa ’s oak-paneled captain’s quarters, strapped to Myers’s bunk. She was aware of the tremendous explosions outside but could do nothing to free herself. Staring at the bulkhead, she felt as though she were lying in a coffin and somebody was shutting the door on her. Then the cabin’s green curtain was torn aside, and in stepped the Baron.
“Troubles, Ludwig?” she mocked.
“I hope I won’t have to gag you as well, my sweet.” He seemed remarkably calm as he took a cup and saucer from the cupboard and helped himself to some of the captain’s coffee. “It won’t be long, Aphrodite. Soon this whole nightmare of a war will be over, and we can get on with our lives.” His cup and saucer clattered with the shock of the next explosion.
“It’s the end of you, Ludwig,” Aphrodite insisted. “Christos has seen to it.”
“Andros has seen nothing yet.” Von Berg set the cup and saucer in the sink and spoke into the captain’s intercom. “Myers. How are we doing?”
“ Flammenschwert is loaded aboard, sir,” came the response. “We’re ready when you are.”
Von Berg nodded. “Flood the cells. We’re moving out.”