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"I apologize for any intrusion," said Dirk, "but we thought the island was deserted."
Epona stared at him, her eyes hard and cold. "We have ways of dealing with trespassers."
"We were on an archaeological expedition to find ancient shipwrecks. Nothing more."
She glanced at Summer, then back to Dirk. "We know what you were searching for. Your sister was most cooperative in providing us with a full report."
"After you drugged her," said Dirk, maddened within an inch of coming across the table after the woman.
It was as if she read his mind. "Do not think of resisting, Mr. Pitt. My guards will respond in an instant."
Dirk forced himself to relax and act indifferent. "So what did Summer tell you?"
"That you and she work for the National Underwater and Marine Agency and that you were here looking for Odysseus' lost fleet that Homer described as being sunk by the Laestrygonians."
"You have read Homer."
"I live and breathe Homer the Celt, not Homer the Greek."
"Then you know the true story of Troy and of Odysseus' voyage across the ocean."
"The reason my sisters and I are here. Ten years ago, through long years of research, we concluded that it was the Celts and not the Greeks who fought the Trojans, and not for the love of Helen but the tin deposits in Cornwall to make bronze. Like you, we retraced Odysseus' wake across the Atlantic. You might be interested in learning that his fleet was not destroyed by huge rocks thrown by the Laestrygonians, but was destroyed by a hurricane."
"And the treasure from his lost fleet?"
"Salvaged eight years ago and used to build our Odyssey financial empire."
Dirk sat quite still, but his hands were trembling out of sight under the table. A warning light blinked on inside his head. These women might allow Summer to live, but he doubted they would let him see another sunrise. "May I ask what the treasure consisted of?"
Epona shrugged. "I see no reason to conceal the results. There is no mystery to our achievement. Our salvage teams recovered over two tons of golden objects, plates, sculptures and other decorative Celtic objects. They were masters of intricate metalworking. These, along with thousands of other ancient artifacts, we sold on the open market around the world, netting just over seven hundred million dollars."
"Wasn't that risky?" asked Dirk. "The French, who own Guadeloupe, the Greeks and the nations of Europe that were once ruled by the Celts, didn't they step in and demand ownership of the treasures?"
"The secret was well-kept. All the buyers of the artifacts wished to remain anonymous and all the transactions were discreetly completed, including the gold, which was placed in depositories in China."
"You mean the People's Republic of China, of course."
"Of course."
"What about the salvage operators and their divers? They would have expected a share of the spoils, and keeping them quiet would not have been easy."
"They received nothing," said Epona, with a sardonic inflection, "and the secret died with them."
The innuendo was not lost on Dirk. "You murdered them?" He said it as if it was a fact rather than an assumption.
"Let's simply say, they joined Odysseus' crews who were lost," she hesitated and then smiled enigmatically. "Nobody who ever came to this island lived to tell of it. Even tourists who anchored their boat in the harbor or simple fishermen who became too curious. They could not tell what they have seen."
"So far I haven't seen anything worth dying for."
"And you won't."
Dirk felt a moment of uneasiness. "Why the fiendishness? Why murder innocent people? Where are you sociopaths coming from, and what do you hope to accomplish?"
There was just the slightest edge of anger in Epona's voice. "You are quite correct, Mr. Pitt. My sisters and I are all sociopaths. We conduct our lives and our fortunes without emotion. That is why we have come so far and accomplished so much in such a few short years. If left to their own devices, sociopaths could rule the world. They are not possessed by morality, nor influenced or hindered by ethics. Complete absence of sentiment makes it easier to achieve their goals. Sociopaths enjoy the highest level of genius and nothing else matters. Yes, Mr. Pitt, I am a sociopath and so is our sisterhood of goddesses."
"The sisterhood of goddesses," Dirk repeated very slowly, accenting each word. "So you have elevated yourselves to deities. Being mortal isn't good enough for you."
"The great leaders of the past were all sociopaths and a few came very close to ruling the world."
