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and walked toward the
entrance.  He turned before he reached the edge of the crowd, bowed his head,
and slowly returned to the center.  Individuals formed a line behind him,
marching in step with his steps.  With each step of his left foot, the hooded
man chanted, "What must we do?"  With each step of his right foot,
the congregation responded, "We must have faith."  He turned at a
right angle and circled the room.  Behind him, the congregation continued to join
the line, each person with his or her head down and fingers interlocked in
front.  The priest turned sharply back the way he had come, moving beside the
file following him.  As each person came to the place where the priest had
turned, that person turned also, and the line continued to move, curving
snakelike as the priest made turn after turn, doubling back in an intricate
pattern.
    Jack joined the line and Tommy followed. 
    The chant continued:
    Left foot.  "What must we do?”
    Right foot.  "We must have faith."
    Left foot.  "What must we do?”
    Right foot.  "We must have faith."
    The priest followed a path painted on the floor.   It’s a
labyrinth , Tommy thought.  His church in Atlanta had one of these on its
grounds; not like this one, though.
    "What must we do?”
    "We must have faith."
    "What must we do?”
    "We must have faith."
    The priest stayed on the right side of the room until that
side of the pattern filled with shuffling worshipers.  When the priest reached
the far end of the room and wound his way back on the other side, Tommy almost
said aloud: it’s a reflection labyrinth.  One side is a reflection of the
other.
    "What must we do?”
    "We must have faith."
    "What must we do?”
    "We must have faith."
    More than an hour passed between when the priest had entered
and the last person exited the labyrinth.  The priest had long before returned
to the room's center, a circle bounded by the labyrinth and those circling
him.  He stood, with his head bowed, chanting, until the last person left the
labyrinth and rejoined the congregation standing in rows next to the walls.  He
raised his arms above his head and again led the complete chant and response,
then, with head and arms lowered, the priest left the way he had come.
    Jack leaned over to Tommy's ear.  "Now you can rest, if
you want."
    Tommy jerked, as if splashed with ice water.  He needed a
moment to realize where he was and what he had been doing. 
    When he considered what Jack had said, the idea no longer
appealed.  Well before the end of the service, the chanting and measured
walking made him feel as if he drifted in the air.  Now, he felt full of
energy.  He wanted to do something, to go somewhere, to at least begin to find
a way out of this place.
    Tommy saw a person he knew among the crowd moving through
the door.  "Mark.  Wait."
    Tommy worked his way to Mark.  "I’m not as tired as I
thought.  What are you doing now?  Do you want to go exploring in the
woods?"
    "Can’t do that.  Didn’t the first Jack tell you?"
    "In the passages, then.  Does anybody care if we go
there?"
    Mark shrugged his shoulders.  "If we stay on this level
or the level circling the floor of the Commons.  What do you want to see?"
    "All I've seen are the Commons and the passages we live
in.  Something besides that."
    A short walk brought them to a door set at an angle to the
end of the corridor.  Beyond the double set of doors, a larger, dimly-lit
passage led to the left and right.  Mark turned to the left.  "This is one
of the fast ways from the center column to the route circling the
Commons."
    That has to go by the room I woke up in that first day,
if I can just find it.
    As they passed one of the doors facing the passageway, Tommy
pointed at the image painted on its surface.  "What does the symbol
mean?"
    Mark glanced at him.  His expression indicated that he
thought Tommy should know the answer.  "The wheat picture shows where
wheat is stored, the corn picture where corn