“That’s what I want.”
There were fourteen memory discs stacked neatly in an open-faced file next to the computer terminal, but there was no way I was going to fool with them. I wasn’t even going to turn the computer on, for fear of erasing something. However, there were other things to look at.
I worked my way around the room, systematically checking between and inside the well-worn books for stray scraps of paper. Nothing. I sat down in the swivel chair and carefully leafed through the four volumes of J. R. R. Tolkien—The Hobbitt and The Lord of the Rings trilogy: The Fellowship of the Ring, The Two Towers, and The Return of the King—that had been placed on the table supporting the computer terminal.
The books had been gone through so many times that the pages were falling out. There were what appeared to be thousands of notations in the volumes—underlined passages, margin notes, notes to check certain sections of his diary, and the word score! written in heavy block letters in a number of places.
Pushing the books aside, I opened a drawer in the table. There was a blue plastic card with what looked like strips of magnetic tape on both surfaces and which I assumed fit into one of the many slots in the various computer components. I placed the card on top of the stack of books and turned my attention to the scraps of paper in the drawer. The first one I read startled me.
There are monsters in Mirkwood! Unclean!
“Does the term ‘Mirkwood’ mean anything to you?”
Janet, who had been studying me from across the room, shrugged wearily. “I think it’s some evil forest mentioned in one of the Tolkien books.”
“I know that. I’ve read them. Have you?”
She nodded. “Tommy insisted. I can’t say I could really get into them; I like some science fiction, but fantasy doesn’t much interest me.”
“Fantasy certainly fascinated Tommy.”
Janet cocked her head to one side, smiled wryly. “Tommy used to go around reciting passages from Lord of the Rings by heart. He said it relaxed him.”
“Did ‘Mirkwood’ have any connection for Tommy outside the books?”
She thought about it, finally shook her head. “Not that I know of. Why?”
I showed her the paper. “That phrase—‘There are monsters in Mirkwood!’—was in the last letter he wrote me. I got it about two weeks ago, which means he must have written it just before he ran away. I didn’t think anything of it at the time because he was always dropping odd phrases into his letters—usually out of context; he used them to separate paragraphs. Now I’m wondering if ‘Mirkwood’ meant something else to him.”
“I’m sorry, Robby, I just don’t know. Tommy’s mind could be like a laser one moment, a scattergun the next. He could be thinking of a dozen things at one time.”
I stared at the books, the plastic card, the computer terminal and memory discs—all the strange legacy of a tormented fourteen-year-old genius—and wondered what secrets they held, if any.
“Janet?” I asked softly. “Was Tommy a homosexual?”
The question didn’t seem to upset her, as I’d feared it might, but she considered it for a long time. “Robby, I don’t really know,” she said at last. “You know how physically slight Tommy was; he was all brain, certainly undeveloped physically and socially. He didn’t have any girl friends, but that was because he was so absorbed in his schoolwork, his computer, and the game. The friends he did have were brains like he was, other students in the extension program for gifted children sponsored by the university. If you’d ask me that question two weeks ago, I’d have said that Tommy was probably asexual at this point in his life. Now …” Her voice trailed off.
“What game?”
Janet raised her eyebrows. “They called it Sorscience. Tommy never mentioned it in his letters?”
“No.”
“I really am surprised, Robby. As far as Tommy was concerned, you were a big part of it. I know he used you to score a lot of points.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I’ll tell you what I know, which isn’t a lot; I told you Tommy was very secretive. Sorscience was a fantasy game: magic, sword and sorcery, dungeons, dragons, wizards, and monsters—that sort of thing.”
“I’ve heard of Dungeons and Dragons. I saw it with Tommy’s things in the shed, and I know it’s very popular with college kids. I’ve never heard of Sorscience.”
“Tommy and his friends used to play Dungeons and Dragons, but they all got so good that everyone wanted to be Dungeon Master and they eventually got bored with it. I suppose they could have invited other kids to play with them, but they tended to be very impatient with kids who weren’t as bright as they were. The end result was that they made up their own game. The object of Sorscience was to find scientific discoveries, theories, or inventions that duplicated magical situations or feats of sorcery described in Lord of the Rings. As you can imagine, they spent hours in the library poring over newspapers and scientific journals. As I understand it, a player would score points for finding a situation or discovery, and even more points if the experiment could be duplicated or physical evidence displayed. That’s about all I know.”
“What did I have to do with it?”
Janet flushed, laughed. “Can’t you guess?”
“I’m afraid to.”
“You were Frodo!”
“Frodo was a hobbit with furry feet,” I replied drily, “not a dwarf.”
Janet, still grinning, shrugged. “Close enough. After all, what’s a fantasy novel without a dwarf?” She paused, sighed, and her smile became bittersweet. “Tommy was so proud of you, Robby. He was proud that you were a dwarf, so very proud that you were his uncle. He lived for his visits with you in New York. He couldn’t wait to grow up and finish his schooling so he could move to New York like you and Garth.”
“He scored points in this game because his uncle was a dwarf?”
Janet nodded. “The fact that you were a relative made you his private property, so to speak. He scored simply because you were a dwarf, and thus matched a Rings character, but he kept scoring if you became involved in a case or did something that he could correlate to action in the books.” She walked slowly across the room, put her hand on my shoulder and raised her eyebrows. “You have been involved in some bizarre cases, Robby.”
“Umm.”
“Like that business with the witches’ coven.”
“Yeah. They were playing the game then?”
“No. The game was a recent invention, but Tommy got a ruling to the effect that, since you were ‘his’ dwarf, anything you’d ever done counted. You were ‘Frodo the Ring Bearer.’ For example, he correlated the witches’ coven to Tolkien’s Orcs. You entered their lair and survived. Points.”
“No wonder he was always pressing me for information. I don’t understand why he never mentioned it.”
“He might have been afraid you’d be angry. Or maybe he just didn’t want you to feel self-conscious.”
“Was Rodney Lugmor a player?”
“Yes,” Janet said, frowning. “Rodney was very bright, as you probably know, and he was also in the university’s extension program.”
“Janet, I’d like a copy of the rules for this game. Also, a list of all the players.”
My sister shook her head, then placed her hand on top of the computer terminal. “I’ve never seen a rule book or player list, Robby. If they exist, they’re probably in here. In code.”
“Secrecy is one leg of the so-called Witch’s Triangle of Power,” I said tightly. “Secrecy may have been part of the game, or a way to score points.”
“Robby, I do know of one other player—Bill Jackson. His family has a small farm over on Arrowrun Road. Tommy, Rodney, and Bill used to meet here once in a while to discuss strategy and fine points of the game. I’ll call his mother for you, if you want. He’s only fifteen, so I suppose the ground should be prepared before you talk to him.”
“Do that,” I said, rising from the swivel chair and looking at my watc
h. “Janet, I’d like to fly in someone from New York to help me. I know it will be sticky with John, but I’d like this guy to be able to stay here in Tommy’s room. Believe me, you’ll never see him—and he’ll starve to death if you don’t bring him food from time to time. Can you manage it?”
“I’ll manage it.”
“May I use your car?”
“Of course,” Janet said, slightly puzzled. “The keys are in the ignition. You can keep it as long as you like; we have the pickup. Where are you going?”
“Coop Lugmor’s place. How do I get there?”
She wrote down the directions. I put the paper in my pocket, headed for the stairs.
“Call Mom for me, will you?” I asked. “Tell her I’ve got my key, and not to wait up for me.”
“People around here to to bed pretty early!” Janet called after me. “Coop may be asleep!”
“I hope so,” I said over my shoulder. “It’ll be a pleasure to wake him up.”
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An Affair of Sorcerers Page 33