dio. They joined
hands and aimed for the next entrances, a mile down the hall.

Four speeding djinn abruptly barred their path, express-flying down on
them.

CHAPTER XXII

"I know how a fly feels," gasped the girl. "I'll never wield another
swatter."

Pink had emptied his Colt. He tried reloading on the run, or rather, he
thought wryly, on the bounce, but it was a tricky job. And he had only
about a dozen shells left.

Circe shot another angry monster. If lead took just two seconds longer
to work on those immense systems, Pink realized, he and Circe would have
been squashed long since. They had fought down half the hall, past three
of the triple entrances, and now there was only one to check on. If
Daley and Jerry weren't there, they might as well give up; the ship
would go scattering into the void in about five minutes.

They had to watch backwards as well as before them. The giants were
nearly all in motion now, the milling of such throngs of them having
caught the vacant stares of those who had been gaping at nothing.

And suddenly there was Daley, standing before them and holding the limp
spacesuited form of Jerry Jones in his arms. "Hey, Pink," he said, "down
here."

Pinkham blasted two foemen in the hands as they grasped for him. "Like
fighting giant redwoods," said Circe indistinctly, panting. They joined
the two officers, jumping and digging in their heels to halt sharply.

"We have to make for that," said Pink, waving across the grotto at the
invisible hole which led to the plain. "Straight through these dam Alps
of aliens." He shot over Circe's head. "How you feeling?"

"Little rocky," said Daley.

"Take the Colt, then." He shoved it into the lieutenant's hand and
hoisted Jerry like a rag out of Daley's arms. "Come on," he barked. "And
don't get slapped. That's an order." He ran.

Their combined chest-lamps beamed out a couple of miles as they headed
for the home stretch. Across the light passed the giant djinn, moving to
waylay them, standing mountain-steady to intercept. Circe rocketed into
the lead and led them on a zigzag course that avoided the vast parodies
of human feet which barred the way like river dams.

They had had uncanny luck thus far. Why? Probably the giants were
sluggish from long inactivity. Too, Pink knew, it's hard to hit a small
darting object that's not more than one-one-hundred-and-sixty-sixth of
your size. And the lead slugs of their guns had turned many sure
c