bothering with the pike.
He stepped to the next tile and closed his eyes.
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?”
“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.
Hearing their deity speak, the priests of Big Joe babbled wildly and withdrew a little. But one, more impulsive than the rest, began shrieking.
Asir glanced back to see two of them racing toward the room, lances cocked for the throw. If a spear struck a triger-tile—
“Stop!” he bellowed, facing around.
The two priests paused. Wondering if it would result in his sudden death, he rested a hand lightly against the huge steel arm of the robot, then leaned against it. The huge eyes were staring down at him, but Big Joe did not move.
The spearmen stood frozen, gaping at the thief’s familiarity with the horrendous hulk. Then, slowly they backed away.
Continuing his bluff, he looked up at Big Joe and spoke in a loud voice. “If they throw their spears or try to enter, kill them.”
He turned his back on the throng in the hall and continued the cautious advance. Five to go, four, three, two—
He paused to stare into the room beyond. Gleaming machinery—all silent—and great panels, covered with a multitude of white circles and dials. His heart sank. If here lay the magic that controlled the Blaze of the Great Wind, he could never hope to rekindle it.
He stepped through the doorway, and the girl followed. Immediately the robot spoke like low thunder.
Staring back, Asir saw that the robot’s head had turned so that he was looking directly back at the thief and the girl. Asir also saw that someone had approached the door again. Not priests, but townspeople.
He stared, recognizing the Chief Commoner, and the girl’s father Welkir, three other Senior Kinsmen, and— Slubil, the executioner who had nailed him to the post.
“Father! Stay back.”
Welkir remained silentt, glaring at them. He turned and whispered to the Chief Commoner. The Chief Commoner whispered to Slubil. The executioner nodded grimly and took a short-axe from his belt thong. He stepped through the entrance, his left foot striking the zero-tile. He peered at Big Joe and saw that the monster remained motionless. He grinned at the ones behind him, then snarled in Asir’s direction.
“Your sentence has been changed, thief.”
“Don’t try to cross, Slubil!” Asir barked.
Slubil spat, brandished the axe, and stalked forward. Big Joe came up like a resurrection of fury, and his elbow was explosive in the vaults. Slubil froze, then stupidly drew back his axe.
Asir gasped as the talons closed. He turned away quickly. Slubil’s scream was cut off abruptly by a ripping sound, then a series of dull cracks and snaps. The girl shrieked and closed her eyes. There were two distinct thuds as Big Joe tossed Slubil aside.
The priests and the townspeople—all except Welkirhad fled from the corridor and up the stairway. Welkir was on his knees, his hands covering his face.
“Mara!” he moaned. “My daughter.”
“Go back, Father,” she called.
Dazed, the old man picked himself up weakly and staggered down the corridor toward the stairway. When he passed the place of the first warning voice, the robot moved again—arose slowly and turned toward Asir and Mara who backed quickly away, deeper into the room of strange machines. Big Joe came lumbering slowly after them.
Asir looked around for a place to flee, but the monster stopped in the doorway. He spoke again, a mechanical drone like memorized ritual.
Asir stared at the lumbering creature and realized for the first time that it was not alive, but only a machine built by the ancients to perform specific tasks. Despite the fresh redness about his hands and jaws, Big Joe was no more guilty of Slubil’s death than a grinding mill would be if the squat sadist had climbed into it while the Mars oxen were yoked to the crushing roller.
Perhaps the ancients had been unnecessarily brutal in building such a guard—but at least they had built him to
Asir straightened his shoulders and addressed the machine.
“Teach us how to kindle the Blaze of the Great Wind.”
