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.It was only a mirror-a wood-framed glass, tall as a man, standing against a wall.As I have mentioned, I had seen looking glasses before, and indeed remembered my mother gazing at her tired reflection in a small one.Now I studied the transformation of my pale form in the glass as I put on my new stolen garments, all warm and dry.In a few moments, I was clad excellently well.A prosperous merchant's or landowner's son, or even a prince's heir, I thought, might look like this.Suddenly I wondered, as if the idea had never occurred to me before, just who I was.Then in an instant my blood chilled, and I stood motionless.It was no longer my own face looking back at me from the mirror, but the wrinkled and haggard countenance of an old man, no one I had ever seen before.His figure, simply dressed in a plain dark robe, stood facing me.He was tall, I thought, but slightly hunched.His eyes under their great bushy brows were restlessly alive, filled with an energy that made it hard for me to notice any attribute as common as mere color-and also made it hard for me to tear my own gaze free.Those compelling eyes had weary pouches under them.The old man's unkempt hair Page 17ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmland beard were almost white.His bearded lips were moving silently, and I knew he wanted urgently to talk to me, and that it was within my power, if I allowed myself to listen, to hear his words.This was frightening, because it was different from, more intense than, any other vision I had ever experienced.And then the old man looking out at me from the mirror spoke my name, thus making the business more frightening still.His eyes were on me with a frightening intentness, and I allowed myself to hear what he said next.You are the one called Amby."Yes sir."There followed a substantial pause, while the old man rubbed his forehead, as if he were trying to reorganize his thoughts.I had forgotten.what you looked like.It is no very uncommon thing for a child to encounter an adult who seems to recognize him, while at the same time the adult remains a stranger to the short, blurred memory of childhood.No doubt this man was someone who had known my mother, who had seen me when I was small.I could think of no immediate reply, but I began to feel slightly more at ease.The old man leaned forward a little, bracing himself with hands on knees, as if to get closer to me.Certain people, dangerous people, he said, are going to ask you questions about my bones.You must be careful what you tell them."Sir?"I am Merlin.And he straightened his bent body, as much as possible.He rubbed his head again, in that uncertain way.I had forgotten that you would not know my name.I am Merlin, and my bones must be allowed to rest in peace.Strange visions, as I have already said, were nothing new to me.Few such apparitions in themselves had power to frighten me.But the number of them in this house, and their special vividness, made them unsettling.Instead of listening to the old man any more I turned from the mirror and ran out of the room.FOURInterludeIn the three years she had been working at the Antrobus Foundation, Dr.Elaine Brusen had developed a healthy respect for the quality of the electronic security systems and other hardware guarding her laboratory.Her assessment of the people charged with operating those systems was less favorable.Still she was surprised that tonight's persistent caller had been allowed to get as far as the front door, and astonished that he been able to invade the building.What was the matter with Security today?Fisher's presence in her workspace was the culmination of a series of weird happenings, none seemingly important in itself, that had taken place over the last several days.Tonight, after dismissing her unwanted caller on the intercom, Elaine had yielded to a feeling of things gone awry, and had several times risen to look uneasily out of the windows of her lab.When her view of the parking lot showed her two unfamiliar vehicles besides her own, one of them inexplicably an ambulance, her first assumption was that the mysterious Fisher had something to do with this invasion.Then, only a minute after she had denied the intruder entrance, she glanced up to discover the figure of an unfamiliar man standing in the doorway.She was seated at the keyboard of her computer, struggling with technical problems, chief among them at the moment the anonymous, invasive poetry that refused to go away.This chamber, like the holostage room next door, was large.Modern lighting had been installed in the high ceiling above stone walls.Page 18ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlExcept for the presence of a small handful of assistants and support staff for several hours daily, Elaine for the past three days had been living almost in isolation in this and a few nearby rooms, working and occasionally sleeping in the same building, only once going home to her apartment.Among the functions now served by the old house was that of conference center.It was a rambling place, three stories high and so big as to be vaguely castlelike.There were bedrooms, meant to house the occasional important visitor or overworked employee, and a small kitchen.Ordinarily support groups of office and technical helpers were on hand, along with some security people and a housekeeping staff equal in skill if not in numbers to that of a good hotel.Currently, as Elaine was just beginning to realize, every employee except herself was absent; now that the matter was forced on her attention, she could remember hearing some of the reasons, and they had individually seemed good and sufficient.But now their total effect was certainly ominous.And of course, Security-it was impossible that they could all have been given the night off [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.It was only a mirror-a wood-framed glass, tall as a man, standing against a wall.As I have mentioned, I had seen looking glasses before, and indeed remembered my mother gazing at her tired reflection in a small one.Now I studied the transformation of my pale form in the glass as I put on my new stolen garments, all warm and dry.In a few moments, I was clad excellently well.A prosperous merchant's or landowner's son, or even a prince's heir, I thought, might look like this.Suddenly I wondered, as if the idea had never occurred to me before, just who I was.Then in an instant my blood chilled, and I stood motionless.It was no longer my own face looking back at me from the mirror, but the wrinkled and haggard countenance of an old man, no one I had ever seen before.His figure, simply dressed in a plain dark robe, stood facing me.He was tall, I thought, but slightly hunched.His eyes under their great bushy brows were restlessly alive, filled with an energy that made it hard for me to notice any attribute as common as mere color-and also made it hard for me to tear my own gaze free.Those compelling eyes had weary pouches under them.The old man's unkempt hair Page 17ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmland beard were almost white.His bearded lips were moving silently, and I knew he wanted urgently to talk to me, and that it was within my power, if I allowed myself to listen, to hear his words.This was frightening, because it was different from, more intense than, any other vision I had ever experienced.And then the old man looking out at me from the mirror spoke my name, thus making the business more frightening still.His eyes were on me with a frightening intentness, and I allowed myself to hear what he said next.You are the one called Amby."Yes sir."There followed a substantial pause, while the old man rubbed his forehead, as if he were trying to reorganize his thoughts.I had forgotten.what you looked like.It is no very uncommon thing for a child to encounter an adult who seems to recognize him, while at the same time the adult remains a stranger to the short, blurred memory of childhood.No doubt this man was someone who had known my mother, who had seen me when I was small.I could think of no immediate reply, but I began to feel slightly more at ease.The old man leaned forward a little, bracing himself with hands on knees, as if to get closer to me.Certain people, dangerous people, he said, are going to ask you questions about my bones.You must be careful what you tell them."Sir?"I am Merlin.And he straightened his bent body, as much as possible.He rubbed his head again, in that uncertain way.I had forgotten that you would not know my name.I am Merlin, and my bones must be allowed to rest in peace.Strange visions, as I have already said, were nothing new to me.Few such apparitions in themselves had power to frighten me.But the number of them in this house, and their special vividness, made them unsettling.Instead of listening to the old man any more I turned from the mirror and ran out of the room.FOURInterludeIn the three years she had been working at the Antrobus Foundation, Dr.Elaine Brusen had developed a healthy respect for the quality of the electronic security systems and other hardware guarding her laboratory.Her assessment of the people charged with operating those systems was less favorable.Still she was surprised that tonight's persistent caller had been allowed to get as far as the front door, and astonished that he been able to invade the building.What was the matter with Security today?Fisher's presence in her workspace was the culmination of a series of weird happenings, none seemingly important in itself, that had taken place over the last several days.Tonight, after dismissing her unwanted caller on the intercom, Elaine had yielded to a feeling of things gone awry, and had several times risen to look uneasily out of the windows of her lab.When her view of the parking lot showed her two unfamiliar vehicles besides her own, one of them inexplicably an ambulance, her first assumption was that the mysterious Fisher had something to do with this invasion.Then, only a minute after she had denied the intruder entrance, she glanced up to discover the figure of an unfamiliar man standing in the doorway.She was seated at the keyboard of her computer, struggling with technical problems, chief among them at the moment the anonymous, invasive poetry that refused to go away.This chamber, like the holostage room next door, was large.Modern lighting had been installed in the high ceiling above stone walls.Page 18ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlExcept for the presence of a small handful of assistants and support staff for several hours daily, Elaine for the past three days had been living almost in isolation in this and a few nearby rooms, working and occasionally sleeping in the same building, only once going home to her apartment.Among the functions now served by the old house was that of conference center.It was a rambling place, three stories high and so big as to be vaguely castlelike.There were bedrooms, meant to house the occasional important visitor or overworked employee, and a small kitchen.Ordinarily support groups of office and technical helpers were on hand, along with some security people and a housekeeping staff equal in skill if not in numbers to that of a good hotel.Currently, as Elaine was just beginning to realize, every employee except herself was absent; now that the matter was forced on her attention, she could remember hearing some of the reasons, and they had individually seemed good and sufficient.But now their total effect was certainly ominous.And of course, Security-it was impossible that they could all have been given the night off [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]