Trumps of Doom (24 page)

“I gave it my voice,” I told him.
 
“Ghost, give us some pictures of the biggest one.”

A scene of chaotic fury filled the hoop.

“Another thought just occurred to me,” Random stated.
 
“Can it transport things?”

“Sure, just like a regular Trump.”

“Was the original size of that circle its maximum size?”

“No, we could make it a lot larger if you wanted.
 
Or smaller.”

“I don’t.
 
But supposing you made it larger-and then told it to transmit that storm, or as much of it as it could manage?”

“Wow! I don’t know.
 
It would try.
 
It would probably be like opening a giant window onto it.”

“Merlin, shut it down.
 
It’s dangerous.”

“Like I said, nobody knows where it is but me, and the only other way to reach it is-“

“I know, I know.
 
Tell me, could anybody access it with the proper Trump, or just by finding it?”

“Well, yes.
 
I didn’t bother with any security codes because of its inaccessibility.”

“That thing could be an awesome weapon, kid.
 
Shut it down.
 
Now.”

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“You can’t dump its memory or kill its power from a remote terminal.
 
I would actually have to travel to the site itself to do that:”

“Then I suggest you get going.
 
I want it turned off until there are a lot more safeguards built into it.
 
Even then -well, we’ll see.
 
I don’t trust a power like that.
 
Not when I don’t have any defenses against it.
 
It could.
 
strike almost without warning.
 
What were you thinking of when you built that thing?”

“Data-processing.
 
Look, we’re the only ones-“

“There’s always a possibility someone will get wise to it and find a way to get at it.
 
I know, I know-you’re in love with your handiwork-and I appreciate what you had in mind.
 
But it’s got to go.”

“I have done nothing to offend you.” It was my voice, but it came from the wheel.

Random stared at it, looked at me, looked back at it.

“Uh-that’s not the point,” he addressed it.
 
“It’s your potential that I’m concerned about.
 
Merlin, turn off the terminal!”

“End transmission,” I said.
 
“Withdraw terminal.” It wavered a moment, then was gone.

“Had you anticipated that comment from the thing?” Random asked me.

“No.
 
I was surprised.”

“I’m beginning to dislike surprises.
 
Maybe that shadow environment is actually altering the thing in subtle ways.
 
You know my wishes.
 
Give it a rest.”

I bowed my head.
 
“Whatever you say, sir.”

“Cut it out.
 
Don’t be a martyr.
 
Just do it.”

“I still think it’s just a matter of installing a few safeguards.
 
No reason to crash the whole project.”

“If things were quieter,” he said, “maybe I’ d go along with it, But there’s too much shit coming down right now, with snipers and bombers and all the things you’ve been telling me about.
 
I don’t need another worry.”

I got to my feet.

“Okay.
 
Thanks for the coffee,” I said.
 
“I’ll let you know when it’s done.”

He nodded.

“Good night, Merlin.”

“Good night.”

As I was stalking out through the big entrance hall I saw Julian, in a green dressing gown, talking with two of his men.
 
On the floor between them lay a large dead animal.
 
I halted and stared.
 
It was one of those same damned dog things I had just dreamed about, like at Julia’s.

I approached.

“Hi, Julian.
 
What is it?” I asked gesturing.

He shook his head.

“Don’t know.
 
But the hellhounds just killed three of them in Arden.
 
I trumped these guys up with one of the carcasses, to show Random.
 
You wouldn’t know where he is, would you?”

I stabbed with my thumb back over my shoulder.

“In the sitting room.”

He walked off in that direction.
 
I went nearer and prodded the animal with my toe.
 
Should I go back and tell Random I’d met one before?

The hell with it, I decided.
 
I couldn’t see how the information would be of any vital use.

I returned to my rooms and washed up and changed my clothes.
 
Then I stopped by the kitchen and filled my backpack with food.
 
I didn’t feel like saying good-bye to anyone, so I just headed for the back and took the big rear staircase down into the gardens.

Dark.
 
Starry.
 
Cool.
 
Walking, I felt a sudden chill as I neared the spot where, in my dream, the dogs had appeared.
 
No howls, no growls.
 
Nothing.
 
I passed through that area and continued on my way to the rear of that well-kept site, to the place where a number of trails led off through a more natural landscape.
 
I took the second one from the left.
 
It was a slightly longer route than another I might have chosen-with which it intersected later, anyway-but was easier going, a thing I felt I needed in the night.
 
I was still not all that familiar with the irregularities of the other way.

I hiked the crest of Kolvir for the better part of an hour before I located the downward trail I was seeking.
 
I halted then, took a drink of water and rested for a few minutes before I began the descent.

It is very difficult to walk in Shadow on Kolvir.
 
One has to put some distance between oneself and Amber in order to do it properly.
 
So all I could do at this point was hikewhich was fine with me, because it was a good night for walking.

I was well on my way down before a glow occurred overhead and the moon crested a shoulder of Kolvir and poured its light upon my twisting trail.
 
I increased my pace somewhat after that.
 
I did want to make it off the mountain by morning.

I was angry with Random for not giving me a chance to justify my work.

I hadn’t really been ready to tell him about it.
 
If it hadn’t been for Caine’s funeral I would not have returned to Amber until I’d had the thing perfected.
 
And I wasn’t even going to mention Ghostwheel this time around, except that it had figured in a small way in the mystery that had engulfed me and Random had wanted to know about it in order to have the whole story.
 
Okay.
 
He didn’t like what he’d seen, but the preview had been premature.
 
Now, if I shut it down as I’d been ordered I would ruin a lot of work that had been in progress for some time now.
 
Ghostwheel was still in a Shadow-scanning, self-education phase.
 
I would have been checking on it about now, anyway, to see how it was coming along and to correct any obvious flaws that had crept into the system.

I thought about it as the trail grew steeper and curved on Kolvir’s western face.
 
Random had not exactly ordered me to dump everything it had accumulated thus far.
 
He’ d simply told me to shut it down.
 
Viewed the way I chose to view it, that meant I could exercise my own judgment as to means.
 
I decided that gave me leeway to check everything out first, reviewing systems functions and revising programs until I was satisfied that everything was in order.
 
Then I could transfer everything to a more permanent status before shutting it down.
 
Then nothing would be lost; its memory would be intact when the time came to restore its functions again.

Maybe .
 
.
 
.

What if I did everything to make it shipshape, including throwing in a few-as I saw it---unnecessary safeguards to make Random happy? Then, I mused, supposing I got in touch with Random, showed him what I’d done, and asked him whether he was happy with it that way? If he weren’t, I could always shut it down then.
 
But perhaps he’d reconsider.
 
Worth thinking about...

I played over imaginary conversations with Random until the moon had drifted off to my left.
 
I was more than halfway down Kolvir by then and the going was becoming progressively easier.
 
I could already feel the force of the Pattern as somewhat diminished.

I halted a couple of more times on the way down, for water and once for a sandwich.
 
The more I thought about it, the more I felt that Random would just get angry if I proceeded along the lines I had been thinking and probably wouldn’t even give me a full hearing.
 
On the other hand, I was angry myself.

But it was a long journey with few shortcuts.
 
I’d have plenty of time to mull it over.

The sky was growing lighter when I crossed the last rocky slope to reach the wide trail at the foot of Kolvir to the northwest.
 
I regarded a stand of trees across the way, one large one a familiar landmark . . .

With a dazzling flash that seemed to sizzle and a bomblike report of thunder the tree was split, not a hundred meters away.
 
I’d flung up both hands at the lightning stroke, but I could still hear cracking wood and the echo of the blast for several seconds afterward.

Then a voice cried out, “Go back!”

I assumed I was the subject of this conversational gambit.
 
“May we talk this over?” I responded.

There was no reply.

I stretched out in a shallow declivity beside the trail, then crawled along it for several body lengths to a place where the cover was better.
 
I was listening and watching the while, hoping that whoever had pulled that stunt would betray his position in some fashion.

Nothing happened, but for the next half minute I surveyed the grove and a portion of the slope down which I had come.
 
From that angle their proximity gave me a small inspiration.

I summoned the image of the Logrus, and two of its lines became my arms.
 
I reached then, not through Shadow but up the slope to where a fairly good-sized rock was poised above a mass of others.

Seizing hold, I drew upon it.
 
It was too heavy to topple easily, so I began rocking it.
 
Slowly, at first.
 
Finally, I got it to the tipping point and it tumbled.
 
It fell among the others and a small cascade began.
 
I withdrew further as they struck and sent new ones bouncing.
 
Several big ones bean to roll.
 
A fracture line gave way when they fell upon its edge at a steeper place.
 
An entire sheet of stone groaned and cracked, began to slide.

I could feel the vibration as I continued my withdrawal.
 
I had not anticipated setting off anything this spectacular.
 
The rocks bounced, slid and flew into the grove.
 
I watched the trees sway, saw some of them go down.
 
I heard the crunching, the pinging, the breaking.

I gave it an extra half minute after what seemed its end.
 
There was much dust in the air and half of the grove was down.
 
Then I rose to my feet, Frakir dangling from my left hand, and I advanced upon the grove.

I searched carefully, but there was no one there.
 
I climbed upon the trunk of a fallen tree.

“I repeat, do you care to talk about it?” I called out.
 
No answer.

“Okay, be that way,” I said, and I headed north into Arden.

I heard the sound of horses occasionally as I hiked through that ancient forest.
 
If I was being followed, though, the horsemen showed no interest in closing with me.
 
Most likely, I was passing in the vicinity of one of Julian’s patrols.

Not that it mattered.
 
I soon located a trail and began the small adjustments that bore me farther and farther from them.

A lighter shade, from brown to yellow, and slightly shorter trees .
 
.
 
.

Fewer breaks in the leafy canopy .
 
.
 
.
 
Odd bird note, strange mushroom .
 
.
 
.