I considered telling him what Coop Lugmor had said about Jake Bolesh's financial connection with Volsung, but decided it wasn't (he time to repeat what, at the moment, amounted to nothing more than mere gossip from the lips of a frenzied alcoholic-especially when that gossip involved an old enemy I was probably going to have to deal with eventually. 'I apologize, John,' I said quietly.

Janet came across the room, touched her husband's arm. 'John? Robby didn't mean any harm.'

But John Dernhelm was worked up. 'I've got something I want to get out of my craw,' he said through clenched teeth. 'Robby, I know you're supposed to be some hot-shot college professor and private detective; I also know that Janet asked you to poke around. I'm opposed to it, and I've told her so. We know what's happened, and it's better to just let it be. Excuse me. I'm going to watch television.'

Dernhelm turned and wearily, like a man carrying a very heavy bag of sorrow, trudged back up the steps. Janet and I stood in silence for a few moments, then Janet said: 'I'm sorry, Robby. I'll get you any information you need.'

'No, don't go against your husband. I can get the information someplace else. And don't be sorry. John's feelings are perfectly understandable. John's not going to be the only member of our family upset if I continue.'

Janet thought about it. Shadows of doubt moved in her eyes as she absently chewed at her lower lip. 'I wonder if I'm doing the right thing,' she said at last. I waited, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe. 'What do you think, Robby?'

'From what I've learned in the past hour, I don't think you could characterize this as a lousy investigation- there hasn't been an investigation. Tommy and Rodney Lugmor were found early Wednesday morning; this is Sunday, and it's all over. The cops didn't even look through Tommy's things. The least they should have done was to question you, and check out what Tommy put on that computer.'

Janet uttered a strange, hollow laugh that was at once tinged with bitterness and burnished with pride. 'I suspect they'd have had one heck of a time doing that.'

'Why?'

'That computer was Tommy's pride and joy. He built a lot of the components himself. In some ways he was very open and childlike, but he was very secretive in other ways. He used the computer for all sorts of things.'

'Like maybe keeping a diary in it?'

Janet stared at me hard. 'Yes,' she breathed. 'It's possible. But I don't know how anyone can get at it. Tommy was fascinated with the problem of computer security-and how to break it. I'm pretty sure he encoded everything, and you'd have to know the code to get into the memory banks. Knowing Tommy, that would be some code.' She sighed, glanced toward the steps. 'Robby, what should I do?'

'You're Tommy's mother, Janet. Also, you have to live with whatever dirt I may dig up or bitterness I may cause. In a few days I'll be back in New York and just an afterthought to these people.'

'You can advise me. What would you do if you were me?'

'I'd want to make sure I wasn't haunted for the rest of my life by doubts or unanswered questions,' I replied evenly. 'No matter what the cost, I'd want to satisfy myself that I knew as much of the truth as there was to know.'

'That's what I want.'

There were fourteen memory discs stacked neatly in an open-faced file next to the computer terminal, but there was no way I was going to fool with them. I wasn't even going to turn the computer on, for fear of erasing something. However, there were other things to look at.

I worked my way around the room, systematically checking between and inside the well-worn books for stray scraps of paper. Nothing. I sat down in the swivel chair and carefully leafed through the four volumes of J. R. R. Tolkien- The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings trilogy: The Fellowship of the Ring, The Two Towers, and The Return of the King- that had been placed on the table supporting the computer terminal.

The books had been gone through so many times that the pages were falling out. There were what appeared to be thousands of notations in the volumes-underlined passages, margin notes, notes to check certain sections of his diary, and the word score! written in heavy block letters in a number of places.

Pushing the books aside, I opened a drawer in the table. There was a blue plastic card with what looked like strips of magnetic tape on both surfaces and which I assumed fit into one of the many slots in the various computer components. I placed the card on top of the stack of books and turned my attention to the scraps of paper in the drawer. The first one I read startled me.

There are monsters In Mirkwood! Unclean!

'Does the term 'Mirkwood' mean anything to you?'

Janet, who had been studying me from across the room, shrugged wearily. 'I think it's some evil forest mentioned in one of the Tolkien books.'

'I know that. I've read them. Have you?'

She nodded. 'Tommy insisted. I can't say I could really get into them; I like some science fiction, but fantasy doesn't much interest me.'

'Fantasy certainly fascinated Tommy.'

Janet cocked her head to one side, smiled wryly. 'Tommy used to go around reciting passages from Lord of the Rings by heart. He said it relaxed him.'

'Did 'Mirkwood' have any connection for Tommy outside the books?'

She thought about it, finally shook her head. 'Not that I know of. Why?'

I showed her the paper. 'That phrase- 'There are monsters in Mirkwood! — was in the last letter he wrote me. I got it about two weeks ago, which means he must have written it just before he ran away. I didn't think anything of it at the time because he was always dropping odd phrases into his letters-usually out of context; he used them to separate paragraphs. Now I'm wondering if 'Mirkwood' meant something else to him.'

'I'm sorry, Robby, I just don't know. Tommy's mind could be like a laser one moment, a scattergun the next. He could be thinking of a dozen things at one time.'

I stared at the books, the plastic card, the computer terminal and memory discs-all the strange legacy of a tormented fourteen-year-old genius-and wondered what secrets they held, if any.

'Janet?' I asked softly. 'Was Tommy a homosexual?'

The question didn't seem to upset her, as I'd feared it might, but she considered it for a long time. 'Robby, I don't really know,' she said at last. 'You know how physically slight Tommy was; he was all brain, certainly undeveloped physically and socially. He didn't have any girl friends, but that was because he was so absorbed in his schoolwork, his computer, and the game. The friends he did have were brains like he was, other students in the extension program for gifted children sponsored by the university. If you'd asked me that question two weeks ago, I'd have said that Tommy was probably asexual at this point in his life. Now…' Her voice trailed off.

'What game?'

Janet raised her eyebrows. 'They called it Sorscience. Tommy never mentioned it in his letters?'

'No.'

'I really am surprised, Robby. As far as Tommy was concerned, you were a big part of it. I know he used you to score a lot of points.'

'Tell me about it.'

'I'll tell you what I know, which isn't a lot; I told you Tommy was very secretive. Sorscience was a fantasy game: magic, sword and sorcery, dungeons, dragons, wizards, and monsters-that sort of thing.'

'I've heard of Dungeons and Dragons. I saw it with Tommy's things in the shed, and I know it's very popular with college kids. I've never heard of Sorscience.'

'Tommy and his friends used to play Dungeons and Dragons, but they all got so good that everyone wanted to be Dungeon Master and they eventually got bored with it. I suppose they could have invited other kids to play with them, but they tended to be very impatient with kids who weren't as bright as they were. The end result was that they made up their own game. The object of Sorscience was to find scientific discoveries, theories, or inventions that duplicated magical situations or feats of sorcery described in Lord of the

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