Worried by her obvious alarm, Chimal forced her into the room and made her explain its functions. She would not even look at the seat-bowl, but she filled another bowl on the wall with cold water that ran out of, a piece of. metal when she touched it the right way. After he had drunk his fill he poked at the other devices in the room and she told him what they were. The shower delighted him. He fixed it so that it ran hot and steaming, then tore off his maxtili and stood under the spray. The door was left open so he could watch the girl, and he paid no attention when she screamed again and ran to face the far wall, trembling. Her actions were so inexplicable that he did not attempt to understand, nor care what she did, as long as she did not try to escape again. When he pressed the button that made the soap foam it hurt, but his cuts felt better afterwards. Then he worked the handles to make the water the coldest it could be, before using the other control that blew warm air on him. While his body was drying he rinsed out his maxtili in the bowl-chair that she would not look at, then squeezed it out and put it back on.

For the first time since he had entered the door in the rock he had a moment to stop and think. Up until now events had pushed him and he had reacted. Now, perhaps he could get some answers to the multitude of questions that filled his head.

“Turn around and stop that noise,” he told the girl, and seated himself on the sleeping mat. It was very comfortable.

Her fingers were splayed against the wall, as though she were trying to push her way through it, and she remained that way while she turned her head, hesitantly, to look behind her. When she saw him seated she turned to face him and stood stiffly, her hands clasped before her and her fingers turning over and over.

“That’s much better.” Her face was a white mask, her eyes red rimmed and set in black circles from the continual crying. “Now tell me your name.”

“Watchman Steel.”

“All right, Steel. What do you do here?”

“I do my work, as it is ordered. I am a trepiol mar…”

“Not what you do, you yourself, but all of you, here in these tunnels under the mountains.”

She shook her head at the question. “I… I don’t understand you. We each do our ordered task, and serve the Great Designer as is our honor…”

“That means nothing, be quiet.” They talked the same way, yet some words were new, and he could not make her understand what he wanted to know. He would start from the beginning then, and build things up slowly. “And stop being frightened, I don’t want to hurt you. It was your Master Observer who sent for this thing that kills. Sit down. Here, sit beside me.”

“I cannot you…” She was too horrified to finish.

“I what.”

“You are… you have not… you are uncovered.”

Chimal could understand that. These cave people had a taboo about going about uncovered, just as the women in the valley must wear huipil to cover the bare upper parts of their bodies when they went to the temple. “I wear my maxtili,” he said, pointing to his loincloth. “I have no other covering here. If you have something I will do as you ask.”

“You are sitting on a blanket,” she said.

He found that there were layers to this sleeping mat, and the top one was made of soft and rich cloth. When he wrapped it around him the girl visibly relaxed. She did not sit by him, but instead pressed a latch on the wall and a small, backless chair fell into position: she seated herself upon it.

“To begin,” he said. “You hide in the rock here, but you know of my valley and my people.” She nodded. “Good, so far. You know of us but we do not know of you. How is that?”

“It is ordained, for we are the Watchers.”

“And your name is Watchman Steel. Then why do you watch us in secret? What are you doing?”

She shook her head helplessly. “I cannot speak. Such knowledge is forbidden. Kill me, it is better. I cannot speak…” Her teeth clamped into her lower lip so hard that a thick drop of blood formed and trickled down her chin.

“That is a secret I will have,” he told her quietly. “I want to know what is happening. You are of the outside world beyond my valley. You have the metal tools and all the things that we are cut off from, and you know about us — but you keep hidden. I want to know why…”

A deep booming, like the striking of a great song, filled the room and Chimal was on his feet instantly, holding ready the thing that kills. “What is that?” he asked, but Watchman Steel was not listening to him.

As the sound came again she dropped to her knees and bent her head over her clasped hands. She was muttering a prayer, or incantation of some kind, and her words were lost in the greater sound. Three times the gong struck, and on the third stroke she held up the little box that hung [missing text in original] until one of her fingers was bare. On the fourth stroke she pressed down hard on the rod of metal so that it first slipped into the case, then slowly returned. Then she released the box and began to cover her finger again. Before she could do this, Chimal reached down and took her hand, turning it over. There was a small pattern of indentations in her flesh from the barbs on the metal rod, and even some drops of blood. The whole pad of her finger was covered with a pattern of tiny white scars. Steel pulled her hand away and quickly slipped the cloth over the exposed flesh.

“You people do many strange things,” he said, and took the box from her hand. She was pulled close to him when he looked in the little windows again. The numbers were the same as before — or were they? Had not in the last number on the right been a three? It was a four now. Curiously, he pushed on the rod, even though it hurt his fingertip. Steel cried out and clawed for the box. The last number was now five. He released it and she pulled away from him, cradling the object, and ran to the far end of the room.

“Very strange things,” he said, looking at the dots of blood on his finger. Before he could speak again there was a light tapping on the door and a voice said, “Watchman Steel!”

Chimal sprang silently to her side and clamped his hand over her mouth. Her eyes closed and she shuddered and went limp. It could be a ruse on her part: he held her just as firmly.

“Watchman Steel?” the voice spoke again, and a second one said, “She is not here, open the door and look.”

“But think of privacy! What if she is here and we enter?”

“If she is here why doesn’t she answer?”

“She did not report for femio last yerfb, she may be ill.”

“The Master Observer ordered us to find her and said we must look in her quarters.”

“Did he say look for her in her quarters or at her quarters? There is a great difference in the meaning.”

“He said in.”

“Then we must open the door.”

As the door began to move tentatively open Chimal pulled it wide and kicked in the stomach the man who was standing outside. He collapsed at once, falling onto the killing thing which he held. There was a second man who tried to run, but he had no weapon and Chimal caught up with him easily and hit him with his fist on the side of the neck and knocked him down, then pulled him back to the room.

Chimal looked down at the three unconscious bodies and wondered what to do. More searchers would come soon, that was certain, so he could not stay here. But where could he hide in this strange place? He needed a guide — and the girl would be easiest to manage. He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, then took the killing thing. The corridor was empty when he looked out, so he turned and went off swiftly in the opposite direction from which they had come.

There were more doors here, but he had to go a little distance at least before the search began. He took one turning, then another, every moment tense and waiting to meet someone. He was still alone. Another turning brought him to a short hall, carved from rock again, that ended in a large door. Rather than go back he leaned on the handle and swung it open. He had the weapon ready, but there was no one waiting inside. This was a very large cavern that stretched into the distance. It was broken into many aisles that held bins and countless shelves. A storehouse of some kind. This would do until the girl came to, then he would make her lead him to some safer place — and some food. Perhaps there was even food here, that was not an impossible idea. He ran far into the cavern, to a dark aisle where not much light reached, and dumped her onto the floor. She did not stir so he left her there while he prowled through the place, opening boxes and picking things from the shelves. In one of the bins he found many bundles of black cloth that had been sewn in strange shapes. When he pulled one out he realized that the dangling lengths were like arms and legs and that these were the clothes that the watchers wore. He took up two armloads and went back to the unconscious girl. She still had not moved. He dropped his load and, squatting under the light, tried to find the manner in which the garment was closed. The air here was cooler than in Steel’s room and he would not mind wearing something to keep his body warm.