tired, and they stopped twice for Dolan to repeat his carving act and once for Mondor, who was counting paces, to work on his map. It would extend from nowhere to nowhere, and every time their unseen captors pressed a button and opened or closed off an alley, a portion of it would become obsolete. The maze he was mapping today would have little or no similarity to the maze they would be walking around in tomorrow, but—as Mondor kept saying—he had nothing else to do. Adelle, watching him trying to sketch the gigantic maze in a small notebook, took his grim determination as one more quirk of the mathematical mentality and said nothing.
She was about to suggest resting again when Dolan uttered a yelp. “Look!” he shouted.
He had found one of his carvings with an RC and an arrow. He rushed in that direction with the others following on his heels. They turned, turned again—and found themselves staring into the kitchen they had left that morning. Dropping their bed parts, they queued up at the sink and gulped water.
After the first long drink, Dolan urged caution. “This can be dangerous stuff, especially when you’re not used to it. I wonder if they’ve left us an alternative.” He went to the refrigerator and opened it. “They’ve restocked the beer and pop. Not the food, though. And they took the three eggs that were left over from this morning. Good thing we ate well, eh? As long as there’s beer, why are we drinking water?”
A resonant “pop” sounded as he opened a can.
“Did they leave the milk?” Adelle asked.
Dolan nodded. “What was left from breakfast.”
Adelle began opening cupboards. “They took the breakfast cereal. And the chocolate and tea. They left us only a cup of coffee apiece.”
Dolan said philosophically, “Oh, well. As long as there’s beer—”
Carrying her glass of water, Adelle went to look at the bedrooms. “They’ve replaced the bed!” she exclaimed.
“Thoughtful of them,” Dolan said, wiping foam from his beard. “They’re saying, in effect, if we’re stupid enough to want to carry furniture around in a maze, we’re welcome to do so. If we’d taken the refrigerator, I suppose they would have replaced that.”
“They didn’t make the beds, though,” Adelle said. “And when they brought the new bed in, they put the mattress on it, but they left the sheets and blanket and pillow in the corner where you dumped them. Give the goons a demerit—their room service is inferior.” She moved over to the refrigerator and looked into the freezer compartment. “There are three small-sized TV dinners here,” she announced. “Salisbury steak, string beans, and mashed potatoes. All three of them.”
“Ambrosia couldn’t sound better,” Dolan said. “Now that we’re a day older and, hopefully, wiser, do we change our plans and sit here and rot where we at least have water and beds, or do we stupidly keep wandering about in the maze and taking psychological tests?”
“As long as there’s food here, we eat it,” Adelle said firmly. “And we get a good night’s sleep in a bed. I also want to improvise whatever kind of a bath is possible and maybe wash my socks and underwear. There’ll be plenty of time in the morning to debate the wisdom of rotting here or elsewhere.”
“I’ll second that program,” Dolan said. “I’m willing to stay here as long as the beer lasts. I’ll turn on the oven.”
“And I’ll start heating water for that bath,” Adelle said. “I don’t know how you two feel, but I intend to go to bed early.”
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