She straightened and gestured widely.
“Ever since I learned about the Pattern, there’s been something I wanted to try if I got this far,” she said.
“What might that be?”
“I’m going to ask it to send me where I should go.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m going to leave the choice up to the Pattern.”
I shook my head.
“It doesn’t work that way,” I told her. “You have to give it an order to transport you.”
“How do you know that?”
“It’s just the way it works.”
“Have you ever tried what I’m saying?”
“No. Nothing would happen.”
“Has anyone you know of ever tried it?”
“It would be a waste of time. Look, you’re talking as if the Pattern is somehow sentient, is capable of coming to a decision on its own and executing it.”
“Yes,” she replied. “And it must know me real well after what I’ve just been through with it. So I’m just going to ask its advice and—”
“Wait!” I said.
“Yes?”
“On the off chance that something happens, how do you plan on getting back?”
“I’ll walk, I guess. So you’re admitting that something could happen?”
“Yes,” I said. “It’s conceivable that you have an unconscious desire to visit a place, and that it will read that and take you there if you give a transport order. That won’t prove that the Pattern is sentient, just that it’s sensitive. Now, if it were me standing there, I’d be afraid to take a chance like that. Supposing I have suicidal tendencies I’m not aware of? Or—”
“You’re reaching,” she answered. “You’re really reaching.”
“I’m just counseling you to play it safe. You have your whole life to go exploring. It would be silly to—”
“Enough!” she said. “My mind’s made up, and that’s it. It feels right. See you later, Merlin.”
“Wait!” I cried again. “All right. Do it if you must. But let me give you something first.”
“What?”
“A means of getting out of a tight spot in a hurry. Here.”
I withdrew my Trumps, shuffled out my own card. Then I unfastened my dagger and sheath from my belt. I wrapped my card around the haft and tied it there with my handkerchief.
“You have an idea how to use a Trump?”
“You just stare and think of the person till there’s contact, don’t you?”
“That’ll do,” I said. “Here’s mine. Take it with you. Call me when you want to come home, and I’ll bring you back.”
I tossed it out across the Pattern, underhand. She caught it easily and hung it on her belt on the side opposite her own.
“Thanks,” she said, straightening. “I guess I’ll give it a try now.”
“Just in case it really works, don’t stay long. Okay?”
“Okay,” she answered, and she closed her eyes.
An instant later she was gone. Oh, my.
I moved to the edge of the Pattern and held my hand above it until I could feel the forces stirring there.
“You’d better know what you’re doing,” I said. “I want her back.”
A spark shot upward and tickled my palm.
“You trying to tell me you’re really sentient?”
Everything swirled about me. The dizziness passed in an instant, and the first thing I noticed then was that the lantern was beside my right foot. When I looked about I realized that I was standing on the other side of the Pattern from where I had been and was now near the door.
“I was within your field and I’m already attuned,” I said. “It was just my unconscious desire to get out.”
Then I hefted the lantern, locked the door behind me, and hung the key back on its hook. I still didn’t trust the thing. If it had really wanted to be helpful, it would have sent me directly to my quarters and saved me all those stairs.
I hurried along the tunnel. It was by far the most interesting first date I’d ever had.
Chapter 6
As I passed out of the main hall and headed along the back hallway which would take me to any of a number of stairs, a fellow in black leathers and various pieces of rusty and shiny chain emerged from a corridor to my right, halted, and stared at me. His hair was of an orange Mohawk cut and there were several silver rings in his left ear near what looked like an electrical outlet of some sort.
“Merlin?” he said. “You okay?”
“For the moment,” I replied as I drew nearer, trying to place him, there in the dimness.
“Martin!” I said. “You’re . . . changed.”
He chuckled.
“I’m just back from a very interesting shadow,” he said. “Spent over a year there—one of those places where time runs like hell.”
“I’d judge—just guessing—that it was high-tech, urban. . . . ”
“Right.”
“I thought you were a country boy.”
“I got over it. Now I know why my dad likes cities and noise.”
“You a musician, too?”
“Some. Different sounds, though. You going to be at dinner?”
“I was planning on it. As soon as I get cleaned up and changed.”
“See you there, then. We’ve a lot of things to talk about.”
“Sure thing, Cousin.”
He clasped my shoulder and released it as I passed. His grip was still strong.
I walked on. Before I’d gone very far, I felt the beginning of a Trump contact. I halted and reached quickly, figuring it was Coral wanting to return. Instead, my eyes met those of Mandor, who smiled faintly.
“Ah, very good,” he said. “You are alone and apparently safe.”
As things came clearer I saw that Fiona was standing beside him, standing very close as a matter of fact.
“I’m okay,” I said. “I’m back in Amber. You all right?”
“Intact,” he said, looking past me, though there was not much to see beyond wall and a bit of tapestry. “Would you care to come through?” I asked.
“I’d love to see Amber,” he replied. “But that pleasure will have to await another occasion. We are somewhat occupied at the moment.”
“You’ve discovered the cause of the disturbances?” I asked.
He glanced at Fiona, then back at me.
“Yes and no,” he said. “We’ve some interesting leads but no certainty at the moment.”
“Uh, what can I do for you then?” I asked.
Fiona extended her index finger and suddenly became much clearer. I realized that she must have reached out and touched my Trump for better contact.
“We’ve had an encounter with a manifestation of that machine you built,” she said. “Ghostwheel.”
“Yes?” I said.
“You’re right, it’s sentient—social AI as well as technical.”
“I was already certain it could pass the Turing test.”
“Oh, no doubt about that,” she responded, “since by definition the Turing test requires a machine capable of lying to people and misleading them.”
“What are you getting at, Fiona?” I asked.
“It’s not just social AI. It’s downright antisocial,” she replied. “I think your machine is crazy.”
“What did it do?” I asked. “Attack you?”
“No, nothing physical. It’s wacky and mendacious and insulting, and we’re too busy to go into details right now. I’m not saying it couldn’t get nasty, though. I don’t know. We just wanted to warn you not to trust it.”
I smiled.
“That’s it? End of message?” I said.
“For now,” she answered, lowering her finger and growing dim.
I shifted my gaze to Mandor and was about to explain that I had built a host of safeguards into the thing, so that not just anybody could access it. Mainly, though, I wanted to tell him about Jurt. But our communication was suddenly s
evered, as I felt another presence reaching toward me.
I was intrigued by the sensation. I had occasionally wondered what would occur if someone tried for a Trump contact when I was already in touch with someone else via a Trump. Would it turn into a conference call? Would someone get a busy signal? Would it put the other party on hold? I’d doubted I’d ever find out, though. It just seemed statistically unlikely. However. . . .
“Merlin, baby. I’m okay.”
“Luke!”
Mandor and Fiona were definitely gone. “I’m really okay now, Merle.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, as soon as I started coming down I switched to a fast lane. In this shadow it’s been several days since I’ve seen you.”
He was wearing sunglasses and green swim trunks. He was seated at a small table beside a swimming pool in the shade of a great umbrella, the remains of a large lunch spread before him. A lady in a blue bikini dived into the pool and passed from my line of sight.
“Well, I’m glad to hear about that and—”
“So what happened to me, anyhow? I remember you said something about someone slipping me some acid when I was a prisoner back at the Keep. Is that how it went?”
“It seems very likely.”
“I guess that’s what happens when you drink the water,” he mused. “Okay. What’s been going on while I’ve been out of it?”
Knowing how much to tell him was always a problem. So, “Where do we stand?” I asked.
“Oh. That,” he said.
“Yeah.”
“Well, I’ve had a chance to do a lot of thinking,” he replied, “and I’m going to call it quits. Honor has been satisfied. It’s pointless to keep pushing this thing against everybody else. But I’m not about to put myself in Random’s hands for a kangaroo trial. Now it’s your turn: Where do I stand so far as Amber’s concerned? Should I be looking over my shoulder?”
“Nobody’s said anything yet, one way or the other. But Random is out of town now and I just got back myself. I haven’t really had a chance to learn what the others’ feelings might be on this thing.”
He removed his sunglasses and studied me. “The fact that Random’s out of town. . . . ”
“No, I know he’s not after you,” I said, “because he’s in Kash—” and I tried to stop it just a syllable too late.
“Kashfa?”
“So I understand.”
“What the hell’s he doing there? Amber was never interested in the place before.”
“There’s been a . . . death,” I explained. “Some kind of shake-up going on.”
“Ha!” Luke remarked. “That bastard finally bought it. Good! But. . . . Hey! Why’s Amber moving in so sudden-like, huh?”
“Don’t know,” I said.
He chuckled. “Rhetorical question,” he said. “I can see what’s going on. I’ve got to admit Random’s got style. Listen, when you find out who he puts on the throne let me know, will you? I like to keep abreast of doings in the old hometown.”
“Oh, sure,” I said, trying unsuccessfully to determine whether such information could be harmful. It would become public knowledge very soon, if it wasn’t already.
“So what else is going on? That other person who was Vinta Bayle . . . ?”
“Gone,” I said. “I don’t know where.”
“Very strange,” he mused. “I don’t think we’ve seen the last of her. She was Gail, too. I’m sure. Let me know if she comes back, will you?”
“Okay. You want to ask her out again?”
He shrugged, then smiled. “I could think of worse ways to spend some time.”
“You’re lucky she didn’t try to take you out, literally.”
“I’m not so sure she would’ve,” he replied. “We always got along pretty well. Anyhow, none of this is the main reason I called. . . . ”
I nodded, having already guessed as much.
“How’s my mother doing?” he asked.
“Hasn’t stirred,” I answered. “She’s safe.”
“That’s something,” he said. “You know, it’s kind of undignified for a queen to be in that position. A coat-rack. Jeez!”
“I agree,” I agreed. “But what’s the alternative?”
“Well, I’d sort of like to . . . get her freed,” he said. “What’ll it take?”
“You raise a very thorny issue,” I stated.
“I sort of figured that.”
“I’ve a strong feeling she’s the one behind this revenge business, Luke, that she’s the one who put you up to going after everybody. Like with that bomb. Like encouraging you to set up that private army with modern weapons, to use against Amber. Like trying for a hit on me every spring. Like—”
“Okay, okay. You’re right. I don’t deny it. But things have changed—”
“Yeah. Her plans fell through and we’ve got her.”
“That’s not what I meant. I’m changed. I understand her now, and I understand myself better. She can’t push me around that way anymore.”
“Why is that?”
“That trip I was on. . . . It shook loose my thinking quite a bit. About her and me. I’ve had several days now to mull over what some of it meant, and I don’t think she can pull the same crap on me that she used to.”
I recalled the red-haired woman tied to the stake, tormented by demons. There was a resemblance, now I thought of it.
“But she’s still my mother,” he went on, “and I don’t like leaving her in the position she’s in. What kind of deal might be possible for turning her loose?”
“I don’t know, Luke.” I answered. “The matter hasn’t come up yet.” .
“Well, she’s your prisoner, actually.”
“But her plans were directed against all of us.”
“True, but I won’t be helping her with them anymore. She really needs someone like me for carrying them out.”
“Right. And if she doesn’t have you to help, what’s to prevent her from finding someone like you, as you put it? She’d still be dangerous if we let her go.”
“But you know about her now. That would crimp her style quite a bit.”
“It might just make her more devious.”
He sighed. “I suppose there’s some truth in that,” he admitted. “But she’s as venal as most people. It’s just a matter of finding the right price.”
“I can’t see Amber buying someone off that way.”
“I can.”
“Not when that person is already a prisoner here.”
“That does complicate matters a little,” he acknowledged. “But I hardly think it’s an insurmountable barrier. Not if she’s more useful to you free than as a piece of furniture.”
“You’ve lost me,” I said. “What are you proposing?”
“Nothing yet. I’m just sounding you out.”
“Fair enough. But offhand, I can’t see a situation such as you describe arising. More valuable to us free than a prisoner. . . . I guess we’d go where the value lies. But these are just words.”
“Just trying to plant a seed or two while I work on it. What is your greatest concern right now?”
“Me? Personally? You really want to know?”
“You bet.”
“Okay. My mad brother Jurt has apparently allied himself with the sorcerer Mask back at the Keep. The two of them are out to get me. Jurt made an attempt just this afternoon, but I can see it’s really a challenge from Mask. I’m going to take them on soon.”
“Hey, I didn’t know you had a brother!”
“Half-brother. I have a couple of others, too. But I can get along with them. Jurt’s been after me for a long time.”
“That’s really something. You never mentioned them.”
“We never talked family. Remember?”
“Yeah. But you’ve got me puzzled now. Who’s this Mask? I seem to remember your mentioning him before. It’s really Sharu Garrul, isn’t it?”
I shook my head.
“When I brought yo
ur mother out of the citadel she left the company of a similarly stricken old guy with RINALDO carved on his leg. I was trading spells with Mask at the time.”
“Most strange,” Luke said. “Then he’s a usurper. And he’s the one slipped me the acid?”
“That seems most likely.”
“Then I have a score to settle with him, too—apart from what he did to my mother. How tough is Jurt?”
“Well, he’s nasty. But he’s kind of clumsy, too. At least, he’s screwed up whenever we’ve fought and left a piece of himself behind.”
“He could also be learning from his mistakes, you know.”
“That’s true. And he said something kind of cryptic today, now you mention it. He talked as if he were about to become very powerful.”
“Uh-oh,” Luke said. “Sounds as if this Mask is using him as a guinea pig.”
“For what?”
“The Fount of Power, man. There’s a steady, pulsing source of pure energy inside the Citadel, you know. Inter-Shadow stuff. Comes from the four worlds jamming together there.”
“I know. I’ve seen it in action.”
“I’ve got a feeling that this Mask is still in the process of getting a handle on it.”
“He had a pretty good grip when we met.”
“Yeah, but there’s more to it than plugging into a wall outlet. There are all sorts of subtleties he’s probably just becoming aware of and exploring.”
“Such as?”
“Bathing a person in it will, if he’s properly protected, do wonders for strength, stamina, and magical abilities. That part’s easy for a person with some training to learn. I’ve been through it myself. But old Sharu’s notes were in his lab, and there was something more in them—a way of replacing part of the body with energy, really packing it in. Very dangerous. Easily fatal. But if it works you get something special, a kind of superman, a sort of living Trump.”
“I’ve heard that term before, Luke. . . . ”
“Probably,” he replied. “My father undertook the process, with himself as the subject—”
“That’s it!” I said. “Corwin claimed that Brand had become some sort of living Trump. Made it almost impossible to nail him.”
Luke gritted his teeth.
“Sorry,” I said. “But that’s where I heard about it. So that was the secret of Brand’s power. . . . ”
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