‘Who just played?’ asked Joe.
‘Nobody,’ replied Jimmy. ‘Why?’
‘We’ve got an intruder.’
‘Is it Jaz?’ Daisy asked.
‘It’s not a blurb, it’s a bone.’
‘What number?’
‘Two-blank. No, it’s changing. Double-zero. Two-blank again. Max?’
Jimmy nodded. ‘OK, this changes things. Max is in the House of Chances. We assume he’s the Joker Bone. Where is he?’
Joe studied the maze-map for a second. ‘Top floor. Just near the perimeter. He’s moving now… inwards… got some kind of blurb with him.’
‘What’s he doing in there?’ asked Daisy.
‘Wish I knew. Do you have the two-zero?’
Daisy nodded.
‘OK, we take it out of play.’ Jimmy dragged the bone aside. ‘Draw again.’
Daisy did so.
‘Where’s Jazir?’ asked Celia. ‘Why isn’t he in yet?’
Nobody answered. The clock ticked on…
The casual stroller along Barlow Moor Road at eight-fifteen that evening would have noticed nothing amiss. The more observant might have wondered at the strange array of blurbs that flew towards the House of Chances. Exceptionally thick it was, the swarm, even by the orbiting standards. Louder, and rather slower, than the usual flight of returning messages.
The keenest blurbspotter would have been puzzled at the trouble the swarm was having gaining entrance. The apex of the house was gently domed, leading to an aperture, an orifice we might say, where the incoming blurbs flew home. Usually they split up at this point, to ease the passage. This particular swarm was reluctant to disperse for some reason, preferring to force itself en masse through the hole…
‘We’ve got him!’ shouted Joe. ‘He’s in.’
‘Jazir?’ cried Celia. ‘Look! He’s carrying my feather.’
Amidst the swarms of dark info-blurbs that covered the maze, one stood out from the rest, striped with green and yellow.
‘Do I hit the Theseus now?’ asked Joe.
‘No! When I say. Jazir has to reach the centre. We keep playing. Daisy…’
Daisy made a move, adding a double-two to a six-and-two, releasing more blurbs to the map.
…Jazir was inside the Hive of Chances. A small room where a million blurbs gathered before streaming off through various passageways. Above him he could see glimpses of the moon, as more blurbs came in through the hole. Jazir was covered still with his suit of flies. Other blurbs were brushing against them, nuzzling and petting, whispering. As long as he kept his cover with him, there should be no trouble. Together they floated through a dark opening…
Hackle was lost in a maze. He had taken two steps only, already the door was impossible to find. There never was a door, he thought. I’ve always been here, lost like this. Blindly, under harsh lighting, he wandered along a branching passageway. Take the left, because that’s where Horny George wants to go. Hackle had decided to follow the cursor blurb, having no other guidance.
…Jazir Blurb Masala was blind, constricted, pulled and squeezed by the river of Vaz, twisting through darkness that pulsed with juice, with no direction now, only to find the queen. Yes there was a queen blurb somewhere, something he had never considered, but thought wasn’t his anymore, only the collected one thought of the blurbmind, find the queen, let us feed…
Hackle came to a pavilion of mirrors, where his thin, stricken shape shocked him. Who was that creature, with the lank hair falling in clumps and the sunken eyes? So weak, he looked, a mere shell. Was that what he was? A shell for the Joker Bone? He could no longer feel Benny’s presence, only the bone, the bone, the dry bone. He felt like his skin was ready to crack.
Following the cursor, he took one of a thousand passages, again lost in corridors. This was like no other maze he had ever known. Mister Million had taken the original Hackle Maze, multiplied it with itself, bred a twisted monster that made love to itself constantly, breeding ever-new passageways that he stumbled down, lost in corridors…
Hackle screamed.
‘Something’s going wrong,’ said Joe.
‘What is it?’ asked Jimmy, not looking up from the game.
‘The maze, it keeps changing.’
‘What?’ said Daisy.
‘It does,’ cried Celia. ‘Look, it keeps changing all the time. How will we ever find…’
‘What time is it?’ demanded Jimmy. ‘Quickly!’
‘Eight thirty. No, it’s changing as well! Eight twenty-five now. Fuck! Eight forty-seven.’
Suddenly, Jimmy swiped all the bones off the table. ‘OK, new game.’
He opened the second box of dominoes and emptied them quickly.