One man leaned casually against the wall, cleaning the dirt from under his nails with a thin sliver of plastic. His companion sat on the hard, cold floor, conversing softly.

?And I say the thing’s gotta be dead by now.?The speaker had sandy hair flecked with gray at the temples and a large, curving nose that in another age and time would have given him the aspect of a Lebanese merchant.

?How you figure that??the other man asked.

?You heard the boss. Nothin’ can get in or out of that box.?He jerked a thumb in the direction of the storage chamber. ?Not even gases.?

?Yeah. So??

The first man tapped the side of his head with a finger. ?Think, stupid. If gas can’t get out, that means air can’t get in. That sucker’s been in there long enough already to use up all the air twice over.?

The other glanced at the dented door. ?Well, maybe.?

?What d’you mean, maybe? It’s big. That means it uses a lot of air. A lot more than a human.?

?We don’t know that.?His companion wore the somber 169 169

air of the unconvinced. ?It ain’t human. Maybe it uses less air. Or maybe it can hibernate or something?

?Maybe you oughta go in and check on how it’s doin’.?The nail-cleaner looked up from his work with a bored expression. ?Hey, did you hear something??

The other man suddenly looked to his right, into the dim light of the main tunnel.

?What’s the matter??His companion was grinning. ?The boogeyman out there??

?No, dammit, I heard something.?Footsteps then, clear and coming closer.

?Shit.?The nail-cleaner moved away from the wall, staring.

A figure moved into view, hands clasped behind its back. The two men relaxed. There was some uneasy laughter.

?Dammit, Golic.?The man resumed his seat on the floor. ?You might’ve let us know it was you. Whistled or something.?

?Yeah,?said his companion. He waved at the chamber. ?I don’t think it can whistle.?

?I’ll remember,?the big man told them. His expression was distant and he swayed slightly from side to side.

?Hey, you okay, man? You look weird,?said the nail-cleaner.

His companion chuckled. ?He always looks weird.?

?It’s okay,?Golic muttered. ?Let’s go. Off and on. I gotta get in there.?He nodded toward the chamber.

The two men on the floor exchanged a puzzled glance, one carefully slipping his nail cleaner into a pocket. He was watching the new arrival closely. 170

Alan Dean Foster

?What the hell’s he talkin’ about??the theory-spinner wondered.

?Fucker’s crazy,?his companion declared with conviction.

?What you want here, man? When did they let you out of the infirmary, anyway??