Once a Runner (32 page)

He walked straight across the infield, across the track and out the gate, leaving the joggers to their nightly toil. The moths still worried the streetlight.

The young man stopped momentarily amidst the dancing insect shadows and opened the small travel bag. He reached around under the passport, clothes and toilet articles until he found it. He opened the flat thin oblong box under the streetlight and looked at it once more.

The heavy round disk reposed against pink satin, its thick purple ribbon curling up and behind the soft material. The writing around the edge was in Greek but the general import was clear enough.

In the pale light the silver metal glowed dully. It no longer stabbed at him.

This I can live with too, he thought. Primarily because I no longer have any say in the matter. He smiled faintly, closed the box and replaced it in the bottom of the bag. He turned without looking back and walked away from the track.

There was a very old gnarled tree somewhere he wanted to find and then he would be on his way.