been
stranded, I'd be old enough to be your mother. You're a big cold
dedicated spaceman, but I love you. Lead the way, if you're going to
make a fool of yourself."

* * * * *

In that moment Pink learned wisdom, for he gave up his attempt at a note
and bounded to his feet. Some well-spring of instinct had told him that
a man could never argue a woman out of anything.

"Got your automatic?"

"And a full clip left."

"Come on, baby."

They ran down the cavernous corridor, grotesque tiny fleas making
unbelievable leaps. In seconds they had entered the grotto.

Many, too many giants were still there. Some of them seemed not to have
seen anything of the hectic occurrences, others were standing in small
groups (if anything formed of thousand-foot beings could be called
small, thought Pink as he rocketed along) motioning hugely to one
another.

"Stay close," he called to Circe. She was moving as fast as he, her
light frame an asset. They ran down one side of the cavern, ignoring
giants who did not at first notice them. Pink beamed out his radio and
said, "Daley! Locate yourself." "I'm in the cavern."

"You ape," said Daley, "why'd you come? We're in front of an entrance
that's the middle one of three. Spot it?"

"I see four sets of three," said Pink, heading for the nearest as his
heart sank.

"Sorry, I can't see any more than these. Be careful, old boy." There was
a pause. "We have twelve minutes left," said the senior lieutenant
calmly.

The first of the triple entrances--had they been built, or were they
natural?--was at hand. Three gigantic djinn sat near them. The ground,
uneven as a lava flow solidified, might have concealed a score of
humans. Pink gave a high leap, surveyed the terrain as he floated down.
Nobody here. But a giant saw him.

Pink shot him in the ankle and dived like a skin-swimmer between his
legs. He had lost Circe. He pivoted, wide-eyed, and saw her beneath the
skyscraper torso of a bending giant. Their lamps were drawing attention
now. He saw her shoot the titan and fly off at a tangent, disappearing
behind others of the enemy.

Sixth sense warning prickled his neck. He whirled again to pot at a
groping hand the size of a ten-story house; the hand contracted,
bunched, groped outward and was hidden as the body fell upon it. Pink
saved himself by a frantic backward shove that jolted him into the wall.
Circe sped by and he followed, shouting into his ra