“Big Joe will kill you, Big Joe will kill you, Big Joe will kill—”
He recovered the barbed pike from the floor and stole into the zone of silence. This time he stopped to look around. Slowly he reached the pike-staff through the doorway. Nothing happened. He stepped closer and waved it around inside. Big Joe remained motionless.
Then be dropped the point of the pike to the floor. The monster bellowed and started to rise. Asir leaped back, scalp crawling. But Big Joe settled back in his crouch.
Fighting a desire to flee, Asir reached the pike through the door and rapped it on the floor again. This time nothing happened. He glanced down. The pike’s point rested in the center of a gray floor-tile, just to the left of the entrance. The floor was a checkerboard pattern of gray and white. He tapped another gray square, and this time the monster started out of his drowse again.
After a moment’s thought, he began touching each tile within reach of the door. Most of them brought a response from Big Joe. He found four that did not. He knelt down before the door to peer at them closely. The first was unmarked. The second bore a dot in the center. The third bore two, and the fourth three—in order of their distance from the door.
He stood up and stepped inside again, standing on the first tile. Big Joe remained motionless. He stepped diagonally left to the second—straight ahead to the third—then diagonally right to the fourth. He stood there for a moment, trembling and staring at the Sleeper. He was four feet past the door!
Having assured himself that the monster was still asleep, he crouched to peer at the next tiles. He stared for a long time, but found no similar markings. Were the dots coincidence?
He reached out with the pike, then drew it back. He was too close to the Sleeper to risk a mistake. He stood up and looked around carefully, noting each detail of the room—and of the floor in particular. He counted the rows and columns of tiles—twenty-four each way.
Twenty-four—and there were twenty-four numbers in the series that was somehow connected with safe passage through the room. He frowned and muttered through the series to himself 0, 1, 2, 3, 3, 3, 2, 2, 1…
The first four numbers—0, 1, 2, 3. And the tiles—the first with no dots, the second with one, the third with two, the fourth with three. But the four tiles were not in a straight line, and there were no marked ones beyond the fourth. He backed out of the room and studied them from the end of the corridor again.
Mara had come dizzily awake and was calling for him weakly. He replied reassuringly and turned to his task again. “First tile, then diagonally left, then straight, then diagonally right—”
0, 1, 2, 3, 3.
A hunch came. He advanced as far as the second tile, then reached as far ahead as he could and touched the square diagonally right from the fourth one. Big Joe remained motionless but began to speak. His scalp bristled at the growling voice.
“If the intruder makes an error, Big Joe will kill.”
Standing tense, ready to leap back to the corridor, he touched the square again. The motionless behemoth repeated the grim warning.
Asir tried to reach the square diagonally right from the fifth, but could not without stepping up to the third. Taking a deep breath, he stepped up and extended the pike cautiously, keeping his eyes on Big Joe. The pike rapped the floor.
“If the intruder makes an error, Big Joe will kill.” But the huge figure remained in his place.
Starting from the first square, the path went left, straight, right, right, right. And after zero, the numbers went 1, 2, 3, 3, 3. Apparently he had found the key. One meant a square to the southeast; two meant south; and three southwest. Shivering, he moved up to the fifth square upon which the monster growled his first warning. He looked back at the door, then at Big Joe. The taloned hands could grab him before he could dive back into the corridor.
He hesitated. He could either turn back now, or gamble his life on the accuracy of the tentative belief. The girl was calling to him again.
“Come to the end of the corridor!” he replied.
She came hurriedly, to his surprise.
“No!” he bellowed. “Stay back of the entrance! Not on the tile! No!”
Slowly she withdrew the foot that hung poised over a trigger-tile.
“You can’t come in unless you know how,” he gasped. She blinked at him and glanced nervously back over her shoulder. “But I hear them. They’re coming down the stairs.”
Asir cursed softly. Now he had to go ahead.
“Wait just a minute,” he said. “Then I’ll show you how to come through.”
He advanced to the last tile that he had tested and stopped. The next two numbers were two—for straight ahead. And they would take him within easy reach of the long taloned arms of the murderous sentinel. He glanced around in fright at the crushed bones scattered across the floor. Some were human. Others were animal-sacrifices tossed in by the priests.
He had tested only one two—back near the door. If he made a mistake, he would never escape; no need bothering with the pike.
He stepped to the next tile and closed his eyes.
“If the intruder makes an error, Big Joe will kill.”
He opened his eyes again and heaved a breath of relief.
“Asir! They’re getting closer! I can hear them!”
He listened for a moment. A faint murmur of angry voices in the distance. “All right,” he said calmly. “Step only on the tiles I tell you. See the gray one at the left of the door?”
She pointed. “This one?”
“Yes, step on it.”
The girl moved up and stared fearfully at the monstrous sentinel. He guided her up toward him. “Diagonally left—one ahead—diagonally right. Now don’t be frightened when he speaks—”
The girl came on until she stood one square behind him. Her quick frightened breathing blended with the growing sounds of shouting from the stairway. He glanced up at Big Joe, noticing for the first time that the steel jaws were stained with a red-brown crust. He shuddered.
The grim chess-game continued a cautious step at a time, with the girl following one square behind him. What if she fainted again? And fell across a triggered tile? They passed within a foot of Big Joe’s arm.
Looking up, he saw the monster’s eyes move—following them, scrutinizing them as they passed. He froze. “We want no plunder,” he said to the machine. The gaze was steady and unwinking.
“The air is leaking away from the world.”
The monster remained silent.
“Hurry!” whimpered the girl. Their pursuers were gaining rapidly and they had crossed only half the distance to the opposing doorway. Progress was slower now, for Asir needed occasionally to repeat through the whole series of numbers, looking back to count squares and make certain that the next step was not a fatal one.
“They won’t dare to come in after us,” he said hopefully.
“And if they do?”
“If the intruder makes an error, Big Joe will kill,” announced the machine as Asir took another step.
“Eight squares to go!” he muttered, and stopped to count again.
“Asir! They’re in the corridor!”
Hearing the tumble of voices, he looked back to see blue-robed men spilling out of the stairway and milling down the corridor toward the room. But halfway down the hall, the priests paused—seeing the unbelievable: two intruders walking safely past their devil-god. They growled excitedly among themselves. Asir took another step. Again the machine voiced the monotonous warning.
“If the intruder makes an error…”
Hearing their deity speak, the priests of Big Joe babbled wildly and withdrew a little. But one, more impulsive than the rest, began shrieking.