Trumps of Doom by Roger Zelazny. CHAPTER 5,6

I nodded.

“Then either Luke was lying, or Martinet had somehow learned his plans.”

“I don’t think Luke was lying,” I said. “In fact, I’ve been thinking about that whole business some more. Just knowing him as I do, I don’t believe Luke would have gone around looking for investors until he was sure there was something to put the money into. I think he was telling the truth on that, too. It seems more likely to me that this might have been the only real coincidence in everything that’s happened so far. i have the feeling that Martinez knew a ‘ lot about Luke and just wanted that one final piece of information-about his knowledge of Amber and the Courts. I think he was very shrewd, and on the basis of what he knew already he was able to concoct something that seemed plausible to me, knowing I’d worked for the same company as Luke.”

“I suppose it’s possible,” he said. “But then when Luke really did-“

“I’m beginning to believe,” I interrupted, “that Luke story was phoney, too.”

“I don’t follow you.”

“I think he put it together the same way Martinez did, and for similar reasons-to sound plausible to me so that he could get some information he wanted.”

“You’ve lost me. What information?”

“My Ghostwheel. He wanted to know what it was.”

“And he was disapointed to learn that it was just an exercise in exotic design, for other reasons than building a company?”

Bill caught my smile as I nodded.

“There’s more?” he said. Then: “Wait. Don’t tell me. You were lying, too. It’s something real.”

“Yes.”

“I probably shouldn’t even ask – unless you think it’s material and want to tell me. If it’s something big and very important it could be gotten out of me, you know. I have a low tolerance for pain. Think about it.”

I did. I sat there for some time, musing.

“I suppose it could be,” I said finally, “in a sort of peripheral way I’m sure you’re not referring to. But I don’t see how it could be-as you say-material. Not to Luke or to anyone else-because nobody even knows what it is but me. No. I can’t see how it enters the equation beyond Luke’s curiosity about it. So i think I’ll follow your suggestion and just keep it off the record.”

“Fine with me,” he said. “Then there is the matter of Luke’s disappearance-“

Within the house, a telephone rang. “Excuse me,” Bill said.

He rose and went into the kitchen.

After a few moments, I heard him call, “Merle, it’s for you!”

I got up and went inside. I gave him a questioning look as soon as I entered and he shrugged and shook his head. I thought fast and recalled the location of two other phones in the house. I pointed at him, pointed in the direction of his study and pantomimed the motion of picking up a receiver and holding it to one’s ear. He smiled slightly and nodded. I took the receiver and waited a while, till I heard the click, only beginning to speak then, hoping the caller would think I’ d picked up an extension to answer.

“Hello,” I said.

“Merle Corey?”

“That’s me.”

“I need some information I think you might have.”

It was a masculine voice, sort of familiar but not quite. “Who am I talking to?” I asked.

“I’m sorry. I can’t tell you that.”

“Then that will probably be my answer to your question, too.”

“Will you at least let me ask?”

“Go ahead,” I said.

“Okay. You and Luke Raynard are friends.” He paused.

“You could say that,” I said, to fill the space.

“You have heard him speak of places called Amber and the Courts of Chaos.”

Again, a statement rather than a question.

“Maybe,” I said.

“Do you know anything of these places yourself?”

Finally, a question.

“Maybe,” I said again.

“Please. This is serious. I need something more than a ‘maybe.”’

“Sorry. ‘Maybe’ is all you’re going to get, unless you tell me who you are and why you want to know.”

“I can be of great service to you if you will be honest with me.”

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