But there was somebody, with no clothes on (for all practical purposes) sneaking between the pillars. And he had four arms. That made her start to think of something else, but the thought as it arrowed into the past, suddenly got deflected, turned completely about, and jammed into her brain again, because he was staring directly at her.
If he starts walking toward me, she thought, I'm going to be scared out of my ears. So I better start walking toward him. Besides, I want to see what he looks like. She started out from the columns. Glancing quickly both ways, she saw that the temple was deserted save for them.
He's a kid, she thought, three quarters of the way across. My age, she added, and again a foreign thought attempted to intrude itself on her but never made it, because he was coming toward her now. At last he stopped before her, silent, muscles like tight wire under the brown skin, black hair massing low on his forehead, his eyes deep beneath the black shrub of brows.
She gulped and asked him, "What are you doing here? Do you know somebody could catch you in here and get mad as hell? I know I couldn't possibly have, but I think I've seen you before some place; if somebody comes along, they might even think you were trying to steal Hama's eye." I shouldn't have said that, she thought, because he moved funny. "You better get out of here because everybody will be up here in a half an hour for morning services."
At that news, he suddenly darted forward, passed her, and sprinted down toward the altar.
"Hey!" she called and ran after him.
Snake vaulted over the brass altar rail.
"Wait a minute," she called, catching up. "Wait, will you!"
Snake turned as she slung her leg across the brass bar. "Look, I realize I gave away my hand. But that was only guilt feelings. You gave yours away too, though. And if you don't think you've got guilt feelings, boy, you're crazy."
Snake frowned, tilted his head, and then grinned.