Contest

'The National Security Agency.'

'Yeah, well, I've got some bad news for you, Harold Quaid of the National Security Agency. I'm not the alien you're looking for. I'm just a guy who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.'

Quaid frowned. 'Then who are you?'

Something inside Swain's head told him not answer that question.

'I'm just a guy.'

'And where are you from?'

'Around.'

'And what are you doing in a building that's got a hundred thousand volts of electricity running through its walls?'

'Like I said, Harold, wrong place, wrong time.'

Quaid changed tack. 'We can help you, you know. We can get you out of there.'

'I've already been out, thanks,' Swain said. 'It's hazardous to my health.'

Quaid turned away for a second and conversed briefly with the man behind him. He turned back to Swain. 'I'm afraid I didn't catch that last thing you said,' he called. 'What was it again? Something about your health?'

'Forget it,' Swain said, rapidly losing interest in this conversation.

The NSA was not so selfless as to come all the way out here to save innocent humans caught up in an electrified library. It was bigger than that, it had to be. The NSA was here for contact -- extra- terrestrial contact. Somehow they must have figured out that something was going on inside the library and now they wanted the aliens.

And, presumably, anyone who had come into contact with the aliens.

'No, I mean it,' Quaid said reasonably, 'come a little closer and say it again.'

Swain took a step back. 'I don't think so, fellas.'

'No, no. Please! Listen. We're not going to hurt you. I promise.'

'Uh-huh.'

'But if you'll just step a little closer...'

The dart whizzed by Swain's head, missing it by inches.

It had come from behind Quaid -- from somebody who must have crept up behind him while he had kept Swain occupied. They must have shot the tiny dart through a gap in the electric field.

Swain didn't wait to think about it. He turned and ran, bolting for the DOWN ramp in the centre of the parking lot.

And as he raced down the ramp toward Sub-Level Two, the last tiling he heard was the echoing voice of Harold Quaid of the National Security Agency shouting fiercely at some poor unseen subordinate.

At the base of the outer ramp, Quaid swore.

'Fuck! We had him!'

He turned to the Lab agent holding the tranquilliser gun. 'How the fuck did you miss? I can't believe you could miss him from--'

'Hold on, Quaid,' Marshall said, resting a hand on his shoulder. 'We may have lost the guy, but I think we just hit the jackpot. Take a look at that.'

Quaid turned. 'Take a look at what?'

Marshall pointed at the parking lot and Quaid followed the line of his finger. His jaw dropped immediately.

'What the hell is that?' he breathed.

'I don't know. But I want it,' Marshall said.

Through the grid of blue electricity they could see it clearly, whatever it was.

It looked monstrous, like a large, low-bodied dinosaur -- at least fifteen feet long, with a rounded, blunt snout and two long antennae that clocked rhythmically from side to side above its head.

Quaid and Marshall watched, entranced, as the creature limped slowly across the parking lot. It stopped at the top of the down ramp, where it seemed to sniff the ground for an instant.

Then it slithered quickly down the ramp and out of sight.

'Well, well, well. What do we have here?' Bellos said, peering under the table.

Selexin was trying hard to keep his body from shaking -- and obviously not succeeding. Holly sat frozen beside him.

'Why, tiny man, your memory is as short as you are. I told you I would find you. Or did you forget?'

Selexin swallowed. Holly just stared.

'Perhaps your memory needs a little... refreshing.' Bellos began to stand. 'Get out from under there.'

Holly and Selexin scrambled out to the far side of the table. Bellos stood on the other side, his wounded guide draped over his shoulder. The flickering fires in the nearby reading rooms were now looking decidedly out of control.

Bellos cocked his head mockingly, 'Where will you run to now, tiny man?'

Selexin glanced over toward the stairwell, and saw the two hoods step menacingly into the open doorway, cutting off their only escape.

'Uh-oh,' he whispered.

When he looked at Bellos again, he saw that his golden breastplate was now smeared with thick red streaks of blood. On the black background of Bellos' forearm, Selexin saw his grey wristband clearly.

And saw the glowing green light suddenly flicker off.

The red light next to it blinked to life.

'Uh-oh,' Selexin said again.

Bellos began to strut around the long table. He seemed to be in no hurry. Savouring the moment. He didn't appear to notice the red light now illuminated on his wristband.

'Why have you done this?' Selexin asked.

'Done what?'

'Broken the rules of the Presidian. Cheated. Why have you done this?'

'Why not?'

'You have broken the rules of the contest in order to win it. How can you respect the prize if you cannot respect the tournament? You have cheated.'

'When one is caught breaking the rules, one is a cheat,' Bellos said, walking around the end of the table. 'I do not plan to be caught.'

'But you will be caught.'

'How?' Bellos asked, as if he already knew the answer to the question.

Selexin spoke quickly. 'A contestant can expose you. He can say 'Initialise' and show those watching at the other end that you have hoods with you.'

'It would be a brave man who would attempt such a thing while he was running for his life. Besides,' Bellos said, 'who here knows that I have hoods?'

'I do.'

'But your master was last seen falling out of the labyrinth. And he is the only one who can initialise the teleport on your helmet.'

Selexin paused for a moment. Then he said, 'Reese.'

'What?'

'Reese knows,' Selexin said, remembering the hoods attacking Reese back on the First Floor.

'But you do not know if Reese is still alive.'

'Is she still alive?'

'Amuse me,' Bellos said. 'Let us suppose for the moment that Reese is still alive.'

'Then she can report you. She can initialise the teleport on her guide's helmet and expose you.'