“You qualified?” asked Dale.
“Not really.” Max had never fired a weapon in his life.
“Then forget it,” said Arky. “You’ll be more dangerous than anything we might meet.” He glanced at April.
“Me, neither,” she said.
Dale looked concerned. “I think you should let me go along,” he said.
“We’ll be fine,” said Arky.
April looked disgusted. “This is probably somebody’s living room. I don’t think we’re likely to need a lot of firepower.”
Max set his travel kit in the middle of the grid and laid a spade beside it. “When we get there,” he told Dale, “I’ll try to send the spade back. Give me a half-hour or so, in case we have to repair something. If nothing happens by then, send sandwiches.”
“We’ll put up a message if we get stuck,” said April. “Nobody comes after us unless we ask them to.” She glanced at her companions. “Right?”
Arky nodded. Max did, too, but less decisively.
They walked onto the grid. Dale stood by the icons. “Are we ready?” he asked.
April said yes.
The room smelled of musk. The walls were covered with a light green fabric, decorated with representations of flowers and vines. A pallid illumination radiated from no particular place, much in the style of the Roundhouse.
They did not move for a few moments, other than to glance around the large, bare chamber in which they found themselves. Max could hear no sound anywhere. The grid on which they stood was of different design but of the same dimensions as the other two. He stepped down onto a red carpet and pulled his foot back in surprise when it sank beneath him.
“What the hell kind of floor is this?” said April.
He tried again. It supported him, but the walking was going to be difficult. Who, he wondered, would be comfortable here?
In front of him, the light brightened.
The room was L-shaped, half as long on one side as on the other. There were two exits, located at either end of the stem, both opening into shadowy passageways. On the wall behind the grid, Max saw the by now familiar set of icons. They were located in an angled panel. There were nine this time, motifs set inside disks that were inserted smoothly in the wood. One of them was the stag’s head. None of the others duplicated anything Max had seen before, either in the Roundhouse or on Eden.
April stood a long time, examining them. “World without end,” she said.
Max nodded. He put the spade on the grid and tried the stag’s head. The icon glowed warmly.
The spade vanished in a swirl of light that was green rather than gold. “Matches the decor,” April said, impressed.
“Well,” said Arky, “it’s good to know we can get out of here in a hurry if we have to.”
The ceiling was high, and sections of it were lost in shadow behind a network of beams. “The balloon’s not here,” Arky said. But a look of surprise had appeared on his features, and Max followed his gaze. There was a rectangular hole in the ceiling, through which they could see into another room.
Lights were on, but they were no brighter than in this chamber.
“I don’t think anyone’s up there,” said April.
The opening in the ceiling was rectangular, maybe six by eight feet. There was no staircase. “The balloon,” Max said, “probably floated into the upper room.”
It was a few degrees cooler here than in the Roundhouse. Max zipped his jacket and turned back to remove his equipment from the grid. “I feel light,” he said.
“I think you’re right,” said April. “Gravity again.”
“Not on Earth?” asked Arky.
She shook her head.
The lawyer kept switching his gaze from one doorway to the other. He was not showing a weapon, but his right hand was inside the pocket of his jacket.
No window opened into the room. April unslung her camera and took some pictures. Max and Arky looked into the passageways. The light brightened before them as they moved, and darkened again behind. The carpet remained spongy.
One corridor dead-ended in a large chamber shaped like a rhombus. The other passed additional empty rooms before it turned a corner. There were still no windows. And no furniture.
They went into a huddle. “I don’t like a place where we can’t see very far,” said Arky. “I suggest we go back.”
“Without knowing where we are?” April sighed loudly and looked at Max. “What do you say, Max?”
Max agreed with Arky. But he wasn’t going to say so in April’s presence. “Why don’t we go a little farther?” he said.
April smiled. “Two out of three.”
“I wasn’t aware,” said the lawyer, “we were running a democracy here.” Ahead, the passageway made a ninety-degree right turn. “Okay,” he said reluctantly. “Let’s try it.”
They turned the corner. More rooms. And another opening in the ceiling.
Still no windows. And no indication of recent occupancy.
“This place doesn’t look abandoned,” said April. “There’s no dust. It just looks empty.”
They made a left turn, and Max started a map.
“Where,” asked Arky, “are the windows?”
Max’s ankles were starting to hurt. Walking on a floor that sank with every step was not easy.
They passed into a long, narrow room. Max, who was busy with his map, put a foot down. The floor wasn’t there, and he fell forward; suddenly he was looking down two stories! April grabbed his jacket and held on for the instant required for Arky to get an arm around Max’s shoulder. They dragged him back, and Max knelt on the soft floor waiting for his stomach to settle.
The hole was several feet wide and extended the length of the room. On the other side, the floor continued and a doorway opened onto another passageway.
After satisfying herself that Max was not hurt, April knelt down by the edge. “This isn’t damage,” she said. “This is designed this way. It’s a shaft.”
“In the middle of the floor?” said Arky. “Who the hell is the architect?”
There was no way around it, so they reversed course and took another turn. They found other areas where their passage was blocked by missing floor, and to a degree their route was determined by these curious phenomena.
They looked in all the chambers along their passage. Gradually it struck them that these weren’t rooms at all in the standard sense. They were rather spaces in an endless variety of shapes. Some were too narrow to have been comfortable for human occupancy. Others, like the room they had arrived in, were neither square nor rectangular, but had walls that came in at odd angles or that destroyed the symmetry of the space.
There was no furniture. And no sign of a staircase or any other rational means of getting from one floor to another. The color and texture of carpets and walls changed from place to place. And, perhaps strangest of all, they never found a window, leading to the inevitable suggestion that they were underground.
Max was ready to clear out the moment his companions dragged him out of the shaft, and he only waited for someone else to make the suggestion. Meantime, he busied himself with his map, although he was very cautious where he walked.
Lights continued to brighten before them and to fade behind. This effect created the mildly unnerving impression that there was always something moving just outside their field of vision. Max began to pretend he was working on the map while he watched out of the corner of his eye for some untoward movement. Eventually he saw it.
“Where?” asked Arky. “I don’t see anything.”
“Right there.” Max pointed at a turn in the corridor, which they had just rounded only a minute earlier.
“I saw it, too,” said April.
“Saw what?” The.38 appeared in Arky’s hand.
“The light changed,” said Max. “Look—there’s a bright patch back there.”
Air currents stirred.
The pool of light matched their own. Then, as they watched, it shifted toward them. The effect was that of being stalked.
“There’s nothing there,” said Arky, trying for a steady voice. “It’s just the lights.”