03. The Maze in the Mirror (11 page)

"We left them in the rest area just east of Asheville. There were many cars and trucks there since the highway through the mountains was supposed to be difficult to go through because of snow and ice. They must have used some of them."

"How did you and your men get to the rest area?"

"We came in one of the big trucks we have used for many deliveries and it was then driven away by our people."

Sam nodded. Everything checked out pretty well so far. He turned to Bill. "I assume you're monitoring everybody in and out, even in ones and twos, from any stations and substations along the line. They will want to exit, and even if we miss the
big boy there shouldn't be much trouble in spotting our Ginzu-like friends."

Markham chuckled. "Sam, we do what we can, but do you know how many stations and substations there are on the Asian continent? Almost everybody there looks right for the area, and if they have fake clearances and a lot of patience there's no way we can stop them short of shutting down. We have extra monitors and we're scrutinizing everybody who wants out very hard, but there's only so much we can do. Even if we caught a couple, and we might, they're likely to wind up like that pair down the hall. Give it up, Sam. We got the boy back safe and sound. That's about the best we can hope for, all things considered."

Sam suddenly sat up. "Bond!" he exclaimed, feeling stupid.

"Huh?"

"Where was Bond? The whole thing was supposedly to get him and keep him from revealing a key illegal switch point, right? But Dash has no memories of a tall Englishman at all, let alone one with bandages and the like, and we heard nothing about him from this fellow, either."

Markham looked suddenly struck. "You're right," he replied. "Sam-that means they either didn't take him with them or that there was another group that split right at the start from the main body."

"That frostbite always bothered me," Sam told, him. "It's possible to get that bad fairly quickly, but not all that likely. The one thing that frostbite did was keep him immobile and inside the house. Macklinberg examined him, of course, but like most doctors he takes one look, it looks like the
classic case-of which he's seen hundreds or thousands-and we get instant diagnosis."

"You think he was in on it, then? A fraud? It wouldn't be that hard to fake and fool even a doctor under those circumstances for just the reasons you say. So they'd have an inside man, right? Maybe one who could report and help entry and make sure there wasn't a trap inside. That's bad, Sam. It means we have one of our own who went over to the other side."

"It's more interesting than that, Bill," the detective replied. "It means that all this was the object of the exercise from the beginning. If Bond isn't for real, and if he was an inside man, then the whole object was to get to us. The pieces are starting to fall into place, Bill, but I still need more information."

"You're beginning to make me feel like Watson again."

Sam smiled. "It's just the same old game. Taking all the disparate pieces of the puzzle all spilled out in random order on the table and putting them together into a coherent whole. The problem isn't solving the puzzle, the problem is when you don't have all the pieces yet."

Brandy was improving rapidly, now with full upper body control and able to at least sit up. It was likely that while she might feel the effects off and on for weeks yet, she would be up and around and capable of taking care of herself and Dash as well within a week.

Dash practically threw himself on her, and the reunion scene was so touching and tearful that even Sam was affected. The boy got some of his
books and crayons and they were there in her bed playing and reading and having a grand old time.

Sam was feeling tired, but he wanted to do a little thinking, alone, in the study. Eight o'clock tomorrow night, the note had said. There would be no way at all for them to know at this stage that Dash had been rescued nor just how much Sam had already deduced. If he was there, then they would be there.

He would, of course, be walking straight into the lion's den without so much as a whip and a chair, but he'd done that before. Brandy had done it a while back and had wound up an addicted slave to these people, so he had no illusions about them. Still, they had gone to such extraordinary lengths to have a talk with him; it would be unthinkable to disappoint them.

After Dash finally got his kisses and hugs and went off to bed, he walked upstairs and sat down on the bed.

"They want to meet me," he told her simply. "Tomorrow night. In the Labyrinth."

"Who? You don't mean . . ."

He nodded. "Them, yes. They think they still have Dash to hold over me and with the kind of security clamp Bill's got down I suspect they won't know for a while until and unless I tell them."

"But-Sam, you
can't
go. Not
now.
They got nothin' to hold over you no more.
Nothin'!
You walk in there and they'll have you cold. Hypnos, mind wringers, drugs . . . You name it, they got it. You can't beat 'em on their own turf, Sam."

"We have before," he reminded her. "There's no such thing as a perfect security system. You know that. Sure, we've added a lot here and filled in the
gaps and the kind of attack they launched last week would be deadly for them to try again now, but they could get in. A subtler approach. We can't keep Dash out of school too long, and he's vulnerable. A double, a ringer, somebody you wouldn't think twice of letting in the hosue would have you and Dash and everything else. They've haunted us far too long. It's time to take the cross and the stake and go down into the vampire's cellar once and for all."

"Let's just quit it, Sam. If we wasn't with the Company and didn't have no substation and clearances and all that and were out of it we'd be no use to them or nobody else. We got a ton of money. Go someplace like Fiji or Tahiti or someplace else that's always warm and away from the world and just sleep and eat and fish and swim and say the hell with it."

He shook his head sadly. "I don't think we can. I don't think either side would just allow us to opt out, not now." He paused a moment. "I think it was the aftermath, not the actual attack, that got me. That interrogation Bill Markham did-I haven't been able to get it out of my mind."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I sat there and watched him press buttons. Pain, pleasure. Watching that guy just curl up in agony and then become so willing, so pliant, after just one short shot of pleasure."

"The guy was a scumbag. A drug dealer, kidnapper, and worse. He deserved worse than that."

"Yeah, he probably did, or does," Sam admitted. "The trouble was, I knew that and I knew that bastard would have slit Dash's throat and rationalized it in his twisted way just like he rationalizes shipping tons of addictive drugs to the willing and eager youth and yuppies of America. That's why I enjoyed that pain jolt. Really enjoyed it. I wanted him to get more than he got. And then, suddenly, I couldn't remember which side I was on."

"What? What the hell you talkin' 'bout, Sam?"

"I couldn't remember which side. Suddenly I couldn't tell the two sides apart. Torture, pleasure, pain, high technology, might makes right. Verdict first, trial afterwards. Right defined by who was in who's power and wrong, even evil, strictly defined as competition. I couldn't figure out why our gangsters were better than their gangsters."

She stared at him, but seemed to understand. "Then maybe we should get out. Now."

He shook his head sadly from side to side. "Uh uh. We got sucked in the first time but then the Company made us an offer we couldn't refuse. You don't quit after that. They don't let you quit So you rationalize it, just like that guy rationalized kidnapping, murder, drugs-everything.
We
rationalized it, or we just preferred not to think about it. The golden ones of the Company world rationalize it or cloak it in that old devil of racism. They're superior-the Chosen People of their gods. The proof is in their sole mastery of the Labyrinth. The rest of the worlds-they exist to keep the Chosen Ones in perpetual paradise."

"Yeah, but ain't it always that way?" she asked him. "I knew a guy once, he said that if the Africans had discovered gunpowder then as soon as they discovered Europe they'd have taken over
it.
Just one little thing makes the difference and then everybody makes it right in their own head. My ancestors was slaves owned and bossed
by Bible-thumpin' fundamentalist Baptists who preached that black was the mark of Cain and slavery was God's law. And not so long ago your people was hounded and hunted as Christ killers, cursed by God, the root of all evil. The only thing at the bottom of this Company is that it's all too human."

He nodded. "And so are these rebels, and so are we. And that's why I'll keep this appointment. I wouldn't be too worried. If they wanted me dead, I'm not that hard a target, and if they purely wanted revenge then killing Dash would have been the most horrible thing they could have done to us. But if I cross them, or make them mad, then they'll come after Dash again and this time with real vengeance."

"They'll get Dash again over my dead body, Sam," she told him seriously. "That I swear to you."

He leaned over and kissed her. "You know, I really believe that."

She sighed. "You gonna call in Markham and get backup? You should, you know."

"Uh uh. I'm pretty sure that they'll be looking for that kind of thing."

"Sam-they'll hook you on something and run you ragged. You never been on that shit. You don't know what it can do to you no matter what you think. Or they'll switch you for some other Sam."

"I doubt if they'll try that switch trick again with me. As for the rest-well, I don't make a very good stripper and I'm not much good if my brain's fogged. No, I'm going to go to bed and get a decent night's sleep, then spend the day tomorrow with Dash, and then I'm going for a little walk."

4.

An Offer You Can't Refuse

The room was darker than a subway tunnel after the power failed, and he tried to move, then discovered that he was held to a chair by some kind of manacles. It didn't matter much; his head was beginning to clear now, and it only felt like forty marching bands were rummaging around in there all playing different songs and nobody in tune.

A single light snapped on, its glare directed straight in his face, a blazing and blinding sun in a sea of darkness, although beyond he could barely make out two figures.

"I see Sleepin' Beauty's awake," said a voice he didn't quite recognize.

"Yeah," responded the other man. "I still don't see why we just don't stick his brain in the washing machine and get all the dirty laundry nice and sweet. For a fuckin' traitor his ass is bein' treated real sweet."

"You're Company men?" he asked, trying to clear his head.

"Yeah, sure. What's left of it, anyway. You should know."

"Bill Markham here?"

"Outside. He's the only reason you're still in one piece and of one mind, you might say."

"And Dash?"

"Can't say."

A door opened and another man came in, closed the door behind him, and stared at Sam.

"You look like hell," said Bill Markham.

"Uh uh. I've seen Hell this trip and it's much worse. Is everybody all right?"

Bill Markham took a seat and sighed. "The answer to that is a relative one. I'm not sure of anything, Sam, including you. There's a ton of folks here who want to have you for breakfast and stick you into dissection, but so far I've held them off. I've known you longer and more personally than anybody else except Brandy, and I want your side first."

"You know some of it."

"Some. Maybe more than you want me to know. The trouble is, Sam, the pieces don't fit. I got a lot of jagged pieces and I can't make 'em go together."

"You want it all, then."

"From the top, Sam. From the top. From the time you went-into the Labyrinth until the time you came back out. And I want no details spared."

"Where's Dash?"

"Safe and secure, I swear to you. At the moment he's staying with Brandy's cousin Bernice. Not a scratch on him, I might add. He's a tough kid."

Sam Horowitz sighed. "Yeah, he is. All right, then. It's all over now, no matter what. Get me unstrapped from this damned bed and sitting up straight, and maybe a drink, too, if you can. This is gonna be one long and involved story."

"Do it," Markham ordered.

"But, Boss . . . !"

"Where the hell's he going to go?"

One of the men came over and fingered a combination that released the straps. Sam groaned, stretched, and sat up, moving carefully one limb at a time to try and get some circulation back. At least he didn't see any big bandages, but he didn't exactly suddenly want to do cartwheels, either.

"Water's all we got for now," Markham told him. "Glass and pitcher there on the table."

Sam nodded. "If you got several extra strength aspirins, though, it'll help a lot."

"I got some," the second guy said. "Here."

They poured Sam some water in a Dixie Cup, and he took it and gulped down three of the pills, then settled back.

"You're gonna find this hard to believe," he warned them. "I've got all the answers, but I'm gonna tell it in my own way."

"We got noplace else to go," responded Bill Markham.

Well, at least I don't have to give you the buildup, and I assume that you, of all people, understand why I
had
to go. You're a good enough detective to figure that out. For the benefit of the Cretin Brothers here, though, I won't explain until later. Might as well entertain the boys as well as educate them so maybe one day they'll grow up to be detectives instead of cowboys.

I'd like to say that if I hadn't had no real choice in the matter I wouldn't have gone, but I think it would be a lie. Maybe the idea of going off into danger with the obvious potential of leaving a fatherless child and a widow behind isn't the correct, moral thing to do, but it would have been
irresistible in any event. I mean, consider the enormous lengths they'd gone to to make sure that I went down the rabbit hole. Clearly they didn't want to kill me-not yet, anyway-because they had ample opportunity to do that without going through all this crap. The fact that they didn't was in and of itself fascinating to me.