moments and find joy in them. If only to forget. For those brief moments.
A scarred mind worked that way. Scofield had seen too many scarred minds not to recognize the syndrome once he understood the scars. The doctor had used the phrase "a mass of confusion in her lovely head." What could anyone expect? Antonia Gravet had spent her own eternity in a maze of pain. That she had survived above a vegetable was not only remarkable it was the sign of a professional.
Strange, thought Bray, but that conclusion was the highest compliment he could pay. In a way, it made him sick.
She opened her eyes, blinking in fear, her lips trembling. Then she seemed to recognize him; the fear receded and the trembling stopped. He touched her cheek again and her eyes reflected the comfort she felt at the touch.
"Grazie," she whispered. "Thank you, thank you, thank you.
He bent over her. "I know most of it," he said quietly. "Fhe doctor told me what they did to you. Now tell me the rest. What happened in Marseilles?" Tears welled up in her eyes and the trembling began again. "No! No, you must not ask mel" "Please. I have to know. They can't touch you; they'll never touch you again." "You saw what they do! Oh, God, the pain...
"It's over." He brushed away the tears with his fingers. "Listen to me. I understand now. I said stupid things to you because I didn't know. Of course you wanted to get away, stay away, isolate yourself-resign from the human race, for Christ's sake-1 understand that. But don't you see? You can't. Help us stop them, help me stop them. They've put you through so much... make them pay for it, Antonia. Godamn it, get angry. I look at you and I'm angry as helll" He was not sure what it was; perhaps the fact that he cared, for he did, and he did not try to conceal that care. It was in his eyes, in his words; he knew it. Whatever it was, the tears stopped, her brown eyes glistened, as they had glistened on the trawler. Anger and purpose were surfacing. She told the rest of her story.
"I was to be the drug whore," she said. "The woman who traveled with the courier, keeping her eyes open and her body available at all times. I was to steep with men-or women, it made no difference-performing whatever services they wished." Antonia winced, the memories sickening to her. "The drug whore is valuable to the courier. She can do things he cannot do, being bribe and decoy and unsuspected watchdog. I was... trained. I let them think I had no resistance left. My courier was chosen, a foul-mouthed animal who could not wait to have me, for I had been the favorite of the strongest; it gave him status. I was sick to my stomach at what was before me, but I counted the hours, knowing that each one brought me closer to what I had dreamed of for months. My filthy courier and I were taken to La Spezia where we were smuggled aboard a freighter, our destination Mar- seilles and the contact who would set up the drug runs.
"Me courier could not wait, and I was ready for him. We were put into a storage room below deck. The ship was not scheduled to sail for over an hour, so I said to the pig that perhaps we should wait and not risk being intruded upon. But he would not and I knew he would not; if he had I would have provoked him. For each minute was precious to me. I knew I could not go out to sea; once at sea what remained of my life was over.
I had made a promise to myself. I would leap into water at night and drown in peace rather than face Marseilles where the horror would begin again. But I did not have to...." Antonia stopped, the pain of the memory choking her, Bray took her hand and held it in his. "Go on," he said. She had to say it. It was the final moment she had to somehow face and exorcize; he felt it as surely as if it were his own.
"The pig pulled off my coat and tore the blouse from my chest. It did not matter that I was willing to remove them, he had to show his bull strength; he had to rape, for he was