They came up with a system: at the first intersection in the trench-path, they deduced that they had to turn right, so they would call: ‘One, right.’ If at the second, they had to turn left, that would be ‘Two, left.’ And so on.

To get to the first blockhouse, for instance, there were sixteen turns to make, so Jack memorised the first four, Zoe the next four, Lily the next four and Alby the last four.

‘All right, then,’ Jack said. ‘Time to make a run for it. Everybody ready? Good.’

And so they descended from the entry archway into the trench system and took on the four-sided maze.

To the First Blockhouse

The trench system was tight and claustrophobic. Hard, grey and close.

The maze’s massive side walls—over two hundred metres tall, the height of an office building—loomed high on both sides, shot through with snaking lines of trenches.

The floor on which they ran was covered in ankle-deep water that was slowly rising thanks to the waterfalls.

His boots splashing through the water, Jack raced through the trench-maze at speed.

The greystone walls blurred past him on either side.

He arrived at the first intersection.

Jack called, ‘One: right!’

They all cut right.

At the next junction, he yelled, ‘Two, left!’ and they all jagged left.

As he ran, Jack realised that Zoe had been correct. Once you were inside it, the trench-maze was totally unnavigable. If you didn’t have a plan to get through it, you’d get lost in no time. If you got thrown about by a sloshing wall of water during a rotation, you’d never get out.

And you’d die here.

After four intersections, Jack let Zoe take the lead and call the turns at the next four.

Lily took over next, then Alby for the last four.

After about nine minutes of running in this manner, they rounded a final corner and came to the first white blockhouse and dived into it . . .

. . . a bare second before the maze rotated.

It was a totally unbelievable feeling to be in the maze as it rolled.

It was both sickening and exhilarating at the same time.

The mighty grinding sound filled the air as unseen gears turned the vast space.

Safely inside the blockhouse, panting for breath, Jack and his team braced themselves against its walls as the whole structure around them rotated ninety degrees.

Out through the blockhouse’s slit windows, they could see the maze rolling—could see the falling water of the waterfalls seem to change direction: now, instead of falling down the faces of the side walls, they fell vertically from the ceiling, slamming into the trenches that were now the floor.

Of course, gravity hadn’t changed: it was the space that had rolled. The sides were now the ceiling and floor.