GODS OF RIVERWORLD by Philip Jose Farmer

The light from the lamps on the floor drew heavy shadows on their faces and made them look like masks. The masks of tired and desperate people. The blue eyes of de Marbot and Behn, however, seemed to shine with an unflagging light. Their wills were not weary.

“The power line to the converter is tapped in to the main power line,” Burton said. “But it is not in the Computer’s schematic files, and any power through it is not recorded by the Computer. Not, that is, unless the Snark has changed things. We can make whatever we wish, and the Snark won’t have the slightest idea of what we’re doing. He’ll know we’re up to something, and he’ll be concerned about it. But he can’t find out what it is unless he comes down here. He’ll have to investigate personally.”

“That ain’t so,” Aphra said. “He could send androids.”

“If he’s sentient, that is, human, he’ll be as curious as a monkey. He’ll want to look into this himself.”

“Perhaps.”

“Did you tell the others anything?” de Marbot said.

“No. I didn’t feel it was necessary.”

The Frenchman looked at his wristwatch.

“In about two and a half hours, some of our companions will be meeting for breakfast. You’re always there. Won’t they look for you?”

“Probably. And they won’t find me. Eventually, they’ll know that you two have disappeared, too.”

“They’ll think the Snark took us!” Aphra said. “They’ll be very worried.”

“It’ll shake them from their lethargy,” Burton said. “They won’t be bored, at least.”

“That’s a little cruel,” Aphra said.

“And they’ll come looking for us,” de Marbot said.

“There’s not much chance they’ll find us,” Burton said. “Not when they have thirty-five thousand, seven hundred and ninety-three rooms to search.”

“But they can use the Computer, it’ll scan for them. And when it reports …”

He stopped, smiled, and said, “Ah, I see. The Snark may, probably will, prevent the Computer from telling them where we are.”

“They’ll be searching for us, and the Snark will have to keep tabs on them,” Burton said. “I hope they’ll provide some distraction for him.”

“Yes, but,” Aphra said, “they could have done the same thing if you told them to do so, and they wouldn’t be upset about our being missing.”

“The fewer know about us, the better. If they truly believe we’re missing, they won’t be acting. I’m not sure that the Snark wouldn’t detect their insincerity. After all, he can read their voices for emotion and scan their wathans. He could tell if they’re pretending.”

“It’s like fighting God,” Aphra said.

“You said that,” Burton said. “And I told you that the Snark is not God. Even if he was, I’d give him a run for his money.”

“Morbleu,” de Marbot said. “What if he doesn’t come? What if he just lets us sit here like rats in a self-made trap? What then?”

“You can see a rat in a trap. He can’t see us.”

They were silent for a while. They had painted themselves into a dark corner, but they had all they needed to wait there for as long as they could endure it. There was a toilet in Loga’s room and several in the laboratory. They could use the converter in .Loga’s hideaway to make food or whatever they wished. The converter was now tied in with a small auxiliary computer unconnected to the main one.

Seven o’clock came. Their conversation was infrequent and uninspired. The silence, the lighting, which seemed strange and’ unnatural after the shadowless illumination, and the waiting for something to happen wore on them. At seven-thirty, Burton suggested to the other two that they eat breakfast. They could sleep on the big bed while he stood guard.

At eight o’clock, the two decided that they would eat and then rest. Breakfast was provided by the converter in Loga’s room. Burton ate lightly; he did not want to be sluggish if quick action was required. De Marbot and Behn got into the bed, but the Frenchman said, “I do not feel right sleeping. You might need me.”

“It’s all right,” Burton said. “You’re a light sleeper. Besides, I don’t really expect the Snark to do anything for a long while.”