What part of Olympus is this, he thought. It resembles nothing I've seen before.

Nevertheless, it was becoming gradually familiar. He entered a little room that had the picture of a man on the door. After watching a few moments he found himself well versed on the facilities.

Fortunately, item after item followed a similar pattern. The important thing was to watch. The paper given to him earlier served as money. You used money to buy from machines and from individuals. Of course, how to get money was unclear.

Then he thought of the boy who had asked him for a dollar. Of course, just ask.

He tried it. At first he felt a little strange, for time after time the individuals he asked seemed a little embarra.s.sed, finally provided either coins or paper. "d.a.m.n cults everywhere.

All right, here, just leave me alone."

The young supplicant soon found his purse bursting with paper.

It was a strange phenomenon. Ask for money, it is given to you.

Give it to machines, to individuals, and they give you products.

Not too unlike home, except for the first step.

Cronus frowned.

There is something I've overlooked, he thought to himself.

Something important. Well, tomorrow I'll get around to it.

The thought struck him.

Demo! He had been aging Demo! Then, he had helped his wife with the sundial. Then . . . . Oh, ho! The boy! What of the boy?

"Ah, I've lost him!" He spoke aloud. "I've let him slip off, and I didn't really note to where - rather, to when. Drat, it's inconvenient. I suppose he'll show up by and by, sometime. Yes.

I wonder, what time?"

At that moment he heard his wife calling. Evening meal was ready. Thank goodness, I am famished, thought he.

It was a delicious meal.

Demo left the building, watched the chariots stopped in the broad streets, growls issuing from inside. At times other sounds issued from the vehicles. Loud and raucous, the sounds repeated and repeated, as though some musical instruments were being played out of tune. Accompanying these sounds were screams and yells of tortured innocents.

He could only a.s.sume that, in some manner, the chariots had malfunctioned.

Duane Golchick and Ralph Fulcere waited nervously outside the bank door. The customers were thinning out as three o'clock closing time neared. Finally the last of the stragglers left.

Duane and Ralph entered quickly.

"Say, I'm sorry, we were just closing." The guard smiled, motioned them toward the door.

"Just walk over to the counter with us. Put your hands behind your neck and hold 'em there." Duane spoke in a half snarl, held a revolver in his hand.

The guard noticed the nervous motion of the gunbarrel. "Okay, okay, don't be nervous. Whatever you say! Just take it easy! No one's causing any trouble."

"All right, listen up!" Ralph shouted. "This is a holdup! Any screams, any alarms, and we'll take you out. And we don't care who we shoot first, so you heroes just give it a try. Open it up, babe."

He indicated the gate leading behind the counters. The clerk nervously fumbled with the catch, finally opened the gate.

Duane and Ralph cleaned out the drawers, stuffing bills into a garbage bag. "On the floor, all of you. Hands straight out, legs spread, face down. Lift a head, move a muscle, and you're history!"

The left the building quietly. No one had moved. No one was moving now. They ran for the car, parked in a nearby alley.

A man in blue stopped Demo.

"Those arrows real?"

"Oh, yes, very real. Deadly, too. I've killed many a buck with them. Won a few tournaments, too."

"I thought so. You got a license to carry a deadly weapon? You ain't some kind of kook, here to kill off as many as you can, are you? Here, you better give me the bow."

"Oh, no, I couldn't do that! It's been in the family for generations. My Father used it to kill the sea serpent. And his Father before him to kill fire dragons. I just couldn't part with it."

The policeman, for such he was, looked at Demo in astonishment.

"Oh, boy! One of those!"

He took out his communicator, called for reinforcements. "Were standing in front of the alley next to Martin's Bank. Seems like a loony. Anyway, so far he's not violent. Get some reinforcements over here, before he does go off his rocker. And tell Sue warm up my pizza. I'll be in about two hours from now.

You let her know."

He had hardly signed off when he felt an object pressing against his neck. "Your in our way, Mr. Man. Now just pull out that gun and let it fall, real easy. Now, put your hands behind your head. Up against the wall. Spread 'em!" Ralph was relishing the situation.

"Get the gun and let's get out of here. You, get out of the way." Duane motioned to Demo, who stepped politely aside.

The two men entered the car, rev'd up the engine, pulled out into traffic.

"Stop them! Stop! Police!" The officer shouted.

Demo notched an arrow to his bow, drove it through the right rear tire of the vehicle. He then repeated the process with the left tire.

The car abruptly swerved, ran against the curb, jumped it.

Crashing into a store front, the engine died.

Almost at that instant the reinforcements arrived and hurried to the car.

"My G.o.d, it must be the kook with the bow. Look sticking out of those tire! See if anyone is hurt. I've got him in sight."

"Drop it, drop it now! I'll shoot!"

Demo glanced at the approaching form. This also was a blue clothed one. He turned to his companion. "Is he talking to you?"

"Hey, it's all right. He's okay. Get them gorillas in the car.