Maze of Worlds

Author:Brian Lumley
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

‘‘Still cold?’’ he said.

‘‘Uh-huh. Tired.’’

‘‘So go to sleep. It’s okay. I’m the solitary type.’’

But as Miranda Marsh began to breathe more deeply into his collar, and finally, softly to snore, the minder told himself:

Or at least I used to be the solitary type.

So maybe this time he’d make the right choice for once. And anyway, weren’t opposites supposed to attract? It certainly worked from Turnbull’s point of view. Now all he had to do was convince her . . .

Barney woke them up; all of them except Angela, who was keeping watch. And Barney had brought them breakfast. He woke them with his whipping stump of a tail, his mincing about and wet ministrations, his barked greetings.

Gill examined Barney’s catch, got a fire going. ‘‘Six-legged rabbits!’’ he said. ‘‘No wonder the old dog’s fond of this place. He’s been here before. And since he doesn’t seem much afraid of our surroundings, maybe we shouldn’t be either.’’

As he gutted and cooked the rabbits—for that’s what they were, more or less, or two legs more—Angela said, ‘‘Aren’t you worried they could be poisonous?’’

‘‘See that dog?’’ Gill said. ‘‘He was scrawny the last time we saw him, downright miserable-looking. But right now he’s as fat as butter. What do you reckon he’s been eating?’’

‘‘Rabbit,’’ she said, nodding. And: ‘‘You’re probably right. He was a gamekeeper’s dog after all. He should know what’s good and what isn’t.’’

‘‘Just smelling that roasting meat’’—Waite grinned—‘‘I can tell you what’s good! The way my stomach is rumbling, I’d probably risk it anyway. And come to think of it, what have we got to lose?’’

And so they ate; Ki-no Sung, too, through the hole in his sleeve mask. But the little Chinaman wasn’t himself; or rather, he was different again—though in what way it would have been hard to say, for they didn’t know him well enough. But while he made no real effort to break free of his restrictions, still he kept stretching his neck, as if something was bothering him. He sighed and groaned a lot, too, and barely touched his food.

‘‘I didn’t hit him that hard.’’ Turnbull shook his head. ‘‘I didn’t think so, anyway. Maybe he’s just depleted. Which isn’t surprising. Things are starting to catch up with me, too.’’

They ate in silence, wolfing the good meat. Between them Barney’s rabbits didn’t go too far, but at least they filled a gap. And as they finished up, Gill said, ‘‘I needed that sleep. For me, sleep has always been the clearing house of the waking world. I leave all the crap behind in dreams and come out with only the good stuff. Anyway, good or bad, I’ve been thinking.’’

‘‘We’re all ears,’’ said Turnbull.

‘‘Do you remember the last time?’’ Gill said. ‘‘Okay, I know you do. But I’m talking specifics now: namely, how we got saddled with Sith’s nightmare scenario.’’

‘‘You mean where the worlds we entered were allourworlds, created from our worst dreams come true?’’ This from Angela.

‘‘Exactly,’’ said Gill. ‘‘Or not exactly. But anyway, do you remember how it worked?’’

‘‘Sure,’’ said the minder.

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