For instance, suppose he'd stayed in his own time; never come to Crete, nor slain the Minotaur?
Where would that leave Earth? As an alien outpost, overrun with telepathic octopodal horrors, while Man survived as mere serfs to carry out the bidding of the master race?
Again, questions without answers.
Burke's shoulders shook.
But then, while he still stood brooding—fatigue-worn, lame, half-sick—the first pale fingers of the sun began to touch the horizon with rose.
Turning, Burke stared down at the river and the tiny port village near its mouth.
As if his move had been a signal, there was a sudden stir of activity. Men hurried to and fro along the water's edge. A Greek long ship pushed out from shore.
Now those aboard the craft hoisted its sail.
A black sail.