[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

even in a devil's advocate role.
I finally did manage some sleep, and when I awakened it was to the smell of
good things cooking and strong coffee. I pulled on my wrinkled clothes as best
I
could and wandered out into the house itself.
I expected to see Voorhes or perhaps the native girls in the rather primitive
kitchen, and was very surprised to see a young woman as out of place here as I
or Voorhes there instead. She was clad in a very scanty string bikini over
which she'd draped a full apron to protect her from the spattering.
She was tall, lean, and dark-complected, with jet-black hair cut very short in
a man's style, and her features were kind of hard to figure. Sort of a South
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American United Nations, although it went together quite well. Brazilian,
perhaps, or from someplace where Brazil didn't exist but the same racial mix
had created a rather attractive new race that was equal parts European, black,
and
Indian.
She turned to me and smiled for a moment, then went back to her cooking. It
was hot as hell in the kitchen and I couldn't stand it for long and didn't
know how she could, even dressed like that.
"Hello," she said to me. "I am Maria. Senhor Voorhes is in the station now but
will be back any minute. Please go into the living room or out on the porch.
It will be cooler to eat out there."
Portuguese accent, certainly, but a nice command of English. I shrugged, then
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file:///F|/rah/Jack%20L.%20Chalker/Chalker,%20Jack%20L%20-%20G.O.D.%20Inc%203%
20-%20The%20Maze%20in%20the%20Mirror.txt asked, "What do they use for a
bathroom in this place?"
"Outhouse out back," she told me. "Use the water pitcher and bowl in the
bedroom for freshening up. The outhouse, it stinks terribly, so you will spend
no more time in there than you must."
Well, I must, so I went out, walked around, found it, and found that if
anything she'd flattered it. The insects around that thing were just enormous,
and once inside the smell was enough to make you want to throw up. I was very
happy I had to go before I'd eaten any breakfast; the question was whether or
not I would be able to eat after relieving myself.
I made it out and got away fast, then took many deep breaths just to get the
stench out as best I could, and went back up to the house. I hadn't even paid
any attention to the pitcher and bowl; now I saw it did indeed have tepid
water in it and there was a washcloth, small towel, and a few minimal
toiletries on a small shelf underneath. I used them as best I could, trying to
make myself as presentable as possible, then went back out and onto the porch.
The freshening had done wonders; I was starting to be able to feel hungry
again.
Out on the porch, Maria or somebody had set a table that looked quite nice.
Netting had been lowered giving us some imperfect protection from the insects,
and the table was actually set with china, real silver, ceramic cups, and some
kind of flower in water in the center. There was a pitcher of some sort of
juice already out that felt cold, and I poured some and sipped, then drank
heavily of it. I didn't recognize the fruit, but it was sweet and it tasted
really good.
Even so, I was beginning to realize just how spoiled and civilized I'd become
in these past few years. I hadn't had nightmares of my position or
responsibility during the night, but I had dreamed again and again of air
conditioning.
I sat back and looked at the river and was surprised to hear a motorboat. I
turned and saw it-pretty traditional rowboat with an outboard motor attached
coming slowly up river towards the dock. Voorhes was the only occupant. This
morning he was dressed in khaki shirt and shorts and wore one of those
silly-looking hard bush hats.
He pulled up to the dock, cut the motor, jumped up onto the dock and tied off
the boat to a stake embedded in the stone. Then he came up to the porch,
unzipped the netting, and stepped inside.
"Good morning!" he said pleasantly. "I trust you slept well."
"I slept lousy. Hotter than hell with humidity matching the temperature and
almost no breeze has never been one of my favorite conditions. Remember, I was
in snow yesterday."
The rebel shrugged. "Well, each to his own. You've met Maria?"
"Only briefly. She's not local."
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"No, she came in earlier this morning. You will get to know her quite well
from now on. She's quite bright and quite useful in a number of capacities,
and she will do anything at all that you say."
Sam's eyebrows rose. "Anything?"
"Yes," Voorhes responded, nodding. "Obedience, within a pecking order, is the
norm for everyone in the society in which she was born and raised. You are,
quite naturally, at the bottom of her particular pecking queue, just over her,
but so long as you don't ask her to violate or attempt to overrule orders from
above, she'll do just about anything. Don't mistake her for some roboticized
or lobotomized individual, though. It's the way her people are. You will find
her invaluable and talented."
"Yeah, I'll bet," I said sourly. "And she'll report every word I say and every
move I make back to everybody else, so our murderer can know every move I make
almost when I make it, know my plans, have access to my records and thoughts,
and take whatever steps are needed to thwart me at every turn. Thanks a lot,
Voorhes. And if I have to cross paths with the Company, how in hell am I going
to explain her?"
"Well, you didn't expect us to let you just run loose with everything you
might know, did you? I admit that it hobbles you a bit, but not as much as you
think.
For one thing, she has been told to report only certain kinds of things back
to us, relating to areas of particular concern to us. Those things relating
specifically to your investigation aren't among them. As for the Company,
she's
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another young lady who is a licensed Company courier and she can get in and
out of places rather easily and without arousing any suspicion. She already
has with no trouble. The Company bureaucracy is like all bureaucracies;
they'll take your word for it that she came as the result of a request for aid
in light of your wife's condition and the need to have someone remain with
your child. As for the unforeseen-well, you have some expertise in telling a
convincing story. Ah-here she is, now!"
Maria came out bearing a large tray that contained a pitcher of coffee, real [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]