So I went back to my rooms and stretched out on the bed. When things are brewing you take your rest whenever you can.
After a time I shpt, and I dreamed . . .
I was walking in the formal garden behind the palace. Someone else was with me, but I did not know who it was. This did not seem to matter. I heard a familiar howling. Suddenly, there were growling noises near at hand. The first time I looked about I saw nothing. But then, abruptly, they were there-three huge, doglike creatures similar to the one I had slain in Julia’s apartment. They were racing toward me across the garden. The howling continued, but they were not its authors. They restricted themselves to growling and slavering as they came on. Just as suddenly, I realized that this was a dream and that I had dreamt it several times before only to lose track of it upon awakening. The knowledge that it was a dream, however, in no ,way detracted from the feeling of menace as they rushed toward me. All three of them were surrounded by a kind of light-pale, distorting. Looking past them, through their haloes, I did not see the garden but caught glimpses of a forest. When they drew near and sprang to attack it was as if they had encountered a glass wall. They fell back, rose and dashed toward me once more only to be blocked again. They leaped and growled and whined and tried again. It was as if I stood beneath a bell jar or within a magic circle, though. They could not get at me. Then the howling came louder, came nearer and they turned their attention away from me.
“Wow !” Random said. “I should charge you something for pulling you out of a nightmare.”
. . . And I was awake and lying on my bed and there was darkness beyond my window-and I realized that Random had called me via my Trump and tuned in on my dream when he’d made contact.
I yawned and thought him my answer,
“Thanks.”
“Finish waking up and let’s have our talk,” he said.
“Yes. Where are you?”
“Downstairs. The little sitting room off the main hall to the south. Drinking coffee. We’ve got it to ourselves.”
“See you in five.”
“Check.” Random faded. I sat up, swung my feet over the side of the bed, and rose. I crossed the room to the window and flung it wide. I inhaled the crisp evening air of autumn. Spring on the shadow Earth, fall here in Amber-my two favorite seasons. I should be heartened, uplifted. Instead a trick of the night, the tag-end of the dream-it seemed for a moment that I heard the final note of the howling. I shuddered and closed the window. Our dreams are too much with us.
I hiked down to the designated room and took a seat on one of its sofas. Random let me get through half a cup of coffee before he said, “Tell me about the Ghostwheel.”
“It’s a kind of para-physical surveillance device and library.”
Random put down his cup and cocked his head to one side.
“Could you be more specific?” he said.
“Well, my work with computers led me to speculate that basic data-processing principles could: be employed with interesting results in a place where computer mechanics themselves would not operate,” I began. “In other words, I had to locate a shadow environment where the operations would remain pretty much invariant but where the physical construct, all of the peripherals, the programming techniques and the energy inputs would be of a different nature.”
“Uh, Merlin,” Random said. “You’ve lost me already.”
“I designed and built a piece of data-processing equipment in a shadow where no ordinary computer could function,” I replied, “because I used different materials, a radically different design, a different power source. I also chose a place where different physical laws apply, so that it could operate along different lines. I was then able to write programs for it which would not have operated on the shadow Earth where I’d been living. In doing so, I believe that I created a unique artifact. I called it the Ghostwheel because of certain aspects of its appearance.”