crested wave, flow away.

"What the hell...!"

"Come on!" The red-head turned, trotted silently toward the shadowy bend
under the high grey walls. He looked back, beckoned impatiently, passed
out of sight around the turn--

Brett came up behind him, saw a wide avenue, tall trees with chartreuse
springtime leaves, a wrought-iron fence, and beyond it, rolling green
lawns. There were no people in sight.

"Wait a minute! What is this place?!"

His companion turned red-rimmed eyes on Brett. "How long have you been
here?" he asked. "How did you get in?"

"I came through a gate. Just about an hour ago."

"I knew you were a man as soon as I saw you talking to the golem," said
the red-head. "I've been here two months; maybe more. We've got to get
out of sight. You want food? There's a place ..." He jerked his thumb.
"Come on. Time to talk later."

* * *

Brett followed him. They turned down a side street, pushed through the
door of a dingy cafe. It banged behind them. There were tables, stools
at a bar, a dusty juke box. They took seats at a table. The red-head
groped under the table, pulled off a shoe, hammered it against the wall.
He cocked his head, listening. The silence was absolute. He hammered
again. There was a clash of crockery from beyond the kitchen door. "Now
don't say anything," the red-head said. He eyed the door behind the
counter expectantly. It flew open. A girl with red cheeks and untidy
hair, dressed in a green waitress' uniform appeared, swept up to the
table, pad and pencil in hand.

"Coffee and a ham sandwich," said the red-head. Brett said nothing. The
girl glanced at him briefly, jotted hastily, whisked away.

"I saw them here the first day," the red-head said. "It was a piece of
luck. I saw how the Gels started it up. They were big ones--not like the
tidiers-up. As soon as they were finished, I came in and tried the same
thing. It worked. I used the golem's lines--"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Brett said. "I'm going to ask
that girl--"

"Don't say anything to her; it might spoil everything. The whole
sequence might collapse; or it might call the Gels. I'm not sure. You
can have the food when it comes back with it."

"Why do you say 'when "it" comes back'?"

"Ah." He looked at Brett strangely. "I'll show you."

Brett could smell food now. His mouth watered. He hadn't eaten for
twenty-four hours.

"Care, that's the thing," the red-head said. "Move qui