'Sorry.'
'Nevertheless,' Selexin went on, 'you are correct. Balthazar is not human, nor is his form. Balthazar, and for that matter one other contestant named Bellos, is amorphic. Able to alter his form.'
'Alter his form?'
'Yes. Alter his exterior shape. Just as your chameleon can change its skin colour to blend in with its surroundings, so too can Balthazar and Bellos do the same, only they do not alter their colour: they alter their entire external shape. And it makes sense. One makes one's self human when competing in a human labyrinth, because any doors or handles or potential weapons will all be made for the human form.'
'Uh-huh,' Swain said, turning back to attend to Balthazar.
Hawkins came back from the elevator.
'It took a bit of doing,' he said, 'but I finally got the tube out of its--'
Swain held Balthazar's other eye open, peering at it under the light of the flashlight.
'Out of its... what?' he said, not turning around.
Hawkins didn't reply.
Swain looked up. 'What is it--' he cut himself off.
Hawkins was staring out over the railing, at the Ground Floor atrium down below. Swain swivelled around, following Hawkins' gaze down into the atrium.
The flashlight went out. Blue moonlight covered them again and Stephen Swain peered out over the railing.
The man was just standing there. Tall and black. Two tapering horns rising high above his head. The soft moonlight glinted off the lustrous gold metal attached to his chest.
He was standing next to a glass display case down in the atrium. Just standing there, staring intently into one of the aisles in front of him, at something out of Swain's view.
Swain felt a chill.
Selexin came up beside him.
'Bellos,' he whispered, not taking his eyes off the horned man in the atrium below. There was a sense of awe in his voice, a reverence that was unmistakable. 'The Malonian contestant. Malonians are the most lethal huntsmen in the galaxy. Trophy collectors. They have won more Presidia than any other species. Why, they even conduct a six-way internal hunt to determine who amongst them will compete in the Presidian.'
Swain watched as he listened. The horned man -- Bellos -- was a magnificent specimen of a man. Tall and broad-shouldered, built like a house, and, except for his golden chest, completely dressed in black. An imposing figure.
'Remember. Amorphic,' Selexin said. 'It makes sense to adopt the human form. Makes better sense to adopt a
Swain was about to reply when he heard Hawkins whisper behind him,
Swain frowned. Hawkins had said something about that before. Parker was his partner. Stationed in here for the night with him. Maybe she was still here, somewhere inside...
The voice boomed throughout the atrium. Swain jumped, a wave of ice-cold blood shooting through his veins.
'Greetings, fellow competitor. Before you stands Bellos
Swain's mind was racing. Where could they go? They'd have a good head start. They were still one whole floor above him.
'... Great-grandson of Trome, the winner of the Fifth Presidian. And like his great-grandfather and two Malonians before him, Bellos shall emerge from this battle alone, conquered by none and not undone by the Karanadon. Who be'st thou, my worthy and yet unfortunate opponent?'
Swain swallowed. He took a deep breath and was about to stand up and reply when he heard another noise -- a strange clicking-hissing noise.
Coming from below.
From somewhere else in the atrium.
Swain dropped like a stone, out of sight. Bellos hadn't seen them.
And then, slowly, another contestant came into view. From the left. A dark, skeletal shadow creeping slowly amongst the bookcases.
It moved stealthily toward Bellos.
Whatever it was, it was large -- at least six feet long -- but thin, insect-like, with long angular limbs not unlike those of a grasshopper, that clung to the vertical side of one of the bookcases. Although Swain couldn't see its face very well, he could see that its sinister-looking head was partially covered by a steel, mask-like object. Its movements were accompanied by a strange mechanical breathing noise.
'What is it?' he whispered.
'It is the Konda,' Selexin said. '
The Konda was getting closer to Bellos, an ominous shadow moving steadily along the vertical sides of the bookcases.
Bellos didn't move. He just stood beside the display case, rooted to the spot.
Swain felt a strange sensation as he looked down on the atrium. A kind of voyeuristic thrill to be watching something that no-one else would ever see. That no-one would ever want to see.
The Konda crept cautiously toward Bellos, picking up speed as it closed in--
Suddenly, Bellos held up his hand.
The grasshopper-like Konda stopped instantly.
Swain frowned.
And then something else caught his eye.
Something in the foreground, something
It was small and black -- a shadow superimposed on the darkness -- slinking swiftly and silently across the bare wooden tops of the bookshelves, heading towards the Konda from behind.
Swain watched in amazement as another identical creature made its way across the tops of the bookshelves from the other direction. Its movements resembled that of a cat. Menacing in its supreme stealth.
Selexin saw them, too.
'Oh, sweet Lords,' he breathed,
Swain turned to face the little man. Selexin was staring off into space, wide-eyed and white with fear.
Swain spun back around.
Two more of the small creatures -- each about the size of a dog -- were creeping on all fours across the tops of the bookshelves, jumping easily from top to top, across the aisles below. Swain saw their jet-black heads -- saw their long needle-like teeth and their bony but muscular limbs -- saw their thin snaking tails swishing menacingly behind them.
Selexin was whispering to himself: 'He can't do that. He
