“No, just curious. If your problems have ramifications that may involve Begma, we have an interest in them.”
“How is it that you know of them at all?”
“We have very good intelligence sources. Small kingdoms often do.”
I nodded.
“I won’t press you on your sources, but we’re not having a fire sale on classified data.”
“You misunderstand me,” she said. “I’m not trying to update that file either. I was trying to discover whether I might be able to offer you assistance.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that,” I told her. “I can’t really think of any way you could help me, though.”
She smiled, showing what seemed a set of perfect teeth.
“I can’t be more precise without knowing more,” she said. “But if you decide that you do want help-or if you just want to talk-come and see me.”
“Well taken,” I said. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
“Later, too, I hope,” she said, as I passed her and turned down the hall.
What had she meant by that last bit? I wondered. Was she talking assignation? If so, her motives seemed awfully transparent. Or was she merely expressing her desire for information? I was not certain.
As I passed along the hallway in the direction of my rooms I noted an odd lighting phenomenon ahead of me: A bright white band about six or eight inches in width ran up both walls, across the ceiling, and over the floor. I slowed as I neared it, wondering whether someone had introduced a new method of illuminating the place in my absence.
As I stepped over the band on the floor, everything disappeared, except for the light itself, which resolved into a perfect circle, flipped once about me and settled on a level with my feet, myself at its center. The world appeared beyond the circle, suddenly, and it looked as if it were made of green glass formed into a dome. The surface on which I stood was reddish, irregular and moist in the pale light. It was not until a large fish swam by that I realized I might be underwater, standing on a ridge of coral.
“This is pretty as all hell,” I said, “but I was trying to get to my apartment.”
“Just showing off a bit,” came a familiar voice which sounded eerily all about my magic circle. “Am I a god?”
“You can call yourself whatever you want,” I said. ”Nobody will disagree with you.”
“It might be fun being a god.”
“Then what does that make me?” I asked.
“That’s a difficult theological question.”
“Theological, my ass. I’m a computer engineer, and you know I built you, Ghost.”
A sound like a sigh filled my submarine cell.
“It’s hard to get away from one’s roots.”
“Why try? What’s wrong with roots? All of the best plants have them.”
“Pretty bloom above, mire and muck below.”
“In your case it’s metal and an interesting cryogenic setup-and quite a few other things-all of them very clean. “
“Maybe it’s mire and muck that I need, then.”
“You feeling all right, Ghost?”
“I’m still trying to find myself.”
“Everyone goes through phases like that. It’ll pass.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“When? How? Why?”
“It would be cheating to tell. Besides, it’s different for everyone.”
A whole school of fish swam by-little black-and-redstriped guys.
“I can’t quite swing the omniscience business …” Ghost said after a time.
“That’s okay. Who needs it?” I said.
“… And I’m still working on omnipotence.”
“That one’s hard, too,” I agreed.
“You’re very understanding, Dad.”
“I try. You got any special problems?”
“You mean, apart from the existential?”
“Yeah.”
“No. I brought you here to warn you about a fellow named Mandor. He’s-”
“He’s my brother,” I said. There was silence. Then, “That would make him my uncle, wouldn’t it?”
“I guess so.”
“How about the lady with him? She-“
“Fiona’s my aunt.”
“My great-aunt. Oh, my!”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s bad form to speak ill of relatives, isn’t it?”
“Not in Amber,” I said. “In Amber we do it all the time.”
The circle of light flipped again. We were back in the hallway.
“Now that we’re in Amber,” he said, “I want to speak ill of them. I wouldn’t trust them if I were you. I think they’re a little crazy. Also insulting and mendacious.”