Maze in the Mirror by Jack L. Chalker

Author:Jack L. Chalker [Chalker, Jack L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, Fantasy
ISBN: 9780450520907
Amazon: 0450520900
Goodreads: 1380403
Publisher: Tor Books
Published: 1989-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

He chuckled. "And yet, is it not ironic that this is at the cost of your own moral sense? If you unmask our traitor, our project concludes. Betray him and you betray your own side."

"I have less love and loyalty to my side than you do to yours," I replied frankly. "We will see when we get there-if we get there. Uh-I trust my keeper is getting fed in her room?"

"Indeed. She is most unhappy but I do not wish to even meet her, let alone give her leave about this place. I do not know the ultimate name to which she reports. You understand."

"Perfectly," I assured him. "If I didn't need her I'd suggest just locking her up here and throwing away the key. All right, then. We will be taken back?"

"It is too late today, and too dangerous," he responded. "Sleep here, and leave at mid-day tomorrow. Not even those who have been here for many years like wandering about out there in the dark."

"Can't blame them a bit," I told him. I walked back to my boots and picked them up, then turned and bowed slightly to him. He acknowledged it, and I turned and walked to the doors. Just before, I stopped, turned, and looked back, and he was gone. Not only him, but the remains of our meal, even the pillows, were gone. I would have loved to know how the hell he did that.

I pulled the doors open, and found Black Robe waiting for me as I expected.

"Home, James," I said to him, and we went back down the hall.

I lay there for a while, not just thinking about the interview but also trying to digest the food that seemed to be packed in from my intestines all the way up to my throat with the density of lead. It kept me from going to sleep, that was for sure, and since the TV wasn't so hot around this motel there was nothing much to do but run it through my brain.

The thing was, I liked Tarn. I liked him better than Voorhes, because Tarn hadn't died on that same day his world had died the way Voorhes and most of the others did. They were walking dead men; Quin Tarn seemed to be determined to live and make a major mark, almost as if he felt a responsibility to those who'd been murdered as one of the last of his kind to make his life count. He didn't seem to me to be a loony, and considering the organization he sure wasn't any pacifist, but of the ones I'd met so far he seemed the only really sane man.

You get a sixth sense after you've been a detective for a while and it rarely plays you completely false. I thought he was honest with me, and I appreciated that. He was also not unaware that I seemed to understand him and that this understanding alone made him suspect numero uno on the list.

What worried me more was his comment on Mancini and the odds.

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