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He shook his head.
"No, nothing like that. I'know you're waiting for someone - a Mr. Lucas Raynard. It involves him,
actually "
I gestured at the chair.
"Okay. Sit down and ask your question."
He did so, clasping his hands and placing them on the table between us. He leaned forward.
"I overheard you talking in the lobby," he began, "and I got the impression you knew him fairly well.
Would you mind telling me for about how long you've known him?"
"If that's all you want to know," I answered, "for about eight years. We went to college together, and
we worked for the same company for several years after that."
"Grand Design," he stated, "the San Francisco computer firm. Didn't know him before college, huh?"
"It seems you already know quite a bit," I said. "What did you want, anyway? Are you some kind of
cop?"
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"No," he said, "nothing like that. I assure you I'm not trying to get your friend into trouble. I am
simply trying to save myself some. Let me just ask you-'
I shook my head.
"No more freebies," I told him. "I don't care to talk to strangers about my friends without some
pretty good reasons."
He unclasped his hands and spread them wide.
"I'm not being underhanded," he said, "when I know you'll tell him about it. In fact, I want you to. He
knows me. I want him to know I'm asking around about him, okay? It'll actually be to his benefit. Hell,
I'm even asking - a friend, aren't I? Someone who might be willing to lie to help him out. And I just need
a couple simple facts-"
"And I just need one simple reason: why do you want this information?"
He sighed. "Okay," he said. "He offered me - tentatively, mind you - a very interesting investment
opportunity. It would involve a large sum of money. There is an element of risk, as in most ventures
involving new companies in a highly competitive area, but the possible returns do make it tempting."
I nodded.
"And you want to know whether he's honest."
He chuckled.
"I don't really care whether he's honest," he said. "My .only concern is whether he can deliver a
product with no strings on it."
Something about the way this man talked reminded me of someone. I tried, but couldn't recall who it
was:
"Ah," I said, taking a sip of beer. "I'm slow today. Sorry. Of course this deal involves computers."
"Of course."
"You want to know whether his present employer can nail him if he goes into business out here with
whatever he's bringing with him."
"In a word, yes."
"I give up," I said. "It would take a better man than me to answer that. Intellectual properties
represent a tricky area of the law. I don't know what he's selling and I don't know where it comes
from-he gets around a lot. But even if I did know, I have no idea what your legal position would be.
"I didn't expect anything beyond that," he said, smiling. I smiled back.
"So you've sent your message," I said. He nodded and began to rise.
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"Oh, just one thing more," he began.
"Yes?"
"Did he ever mention places," he said, staring full into my eyes, "called Amber or the Courts of
Chaos?"
He could not have failed to note my startled reaction, which had to have given him a completely false
impression. I was sure that he was sure I was lying when I answered
him truthfully.
"No, I never heard him refer to them. Why do you ask?"
He shook his head as he pushed his chair back and stepped away from the table. He was smiling
again.
"It's not important. Thank you, Mr. Corey. Nus a dhabzhun dhuilsha."
He practically fled around the corner.
"Wait!" I called out, so loudly that there was a moment of silence and heads turned in my direction.
I got to my feet and started after him, when I heard my name called.
"Hey, Merle! Don't run off ! I'm here already!"
I turned. Luke had just come in through the entrance behind me, hair still shower-damp. He
advanced, clapped me on the shoulder, and lowered himself into the seat Martinez had just vacated. He
nodded at my half finished beer as I sat down again.
"I need one of those," he said. "Lord, am I thirsty!" Then, "Where were you off to when I came in?"
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