The best way to keep a secret is to publish it in a quite unbelievable form--and insist that it is the truth.
ain Klorantel commanding, asking for further information on a request for emergency condensation. I informed him that I had made no such request, adding that a light rain would be desirable if he were in position and prepared to radiate.
During the conversation with Captain Klorantel, I noted that the sky was darkening. There were several flashes of lightning, and I felt the signs of imminent, heavy rain. I promptly started back to my station.
Upon my arrival, I discovered that Elwar had managed to open the communications room and had been using the equipment. He was extremely frightened, and made incoherent remarks about talking to a demon. When I attempted to question him as to how he had opened the room, and where he had learned the operation of the communications equipment, he became hysterical and I could find out precisely nothing.
By this time, it was raining violently. There was a high wind. Several trees had been blown down and lightning was frequent. A flood was starting down th
What a letdown. The author creates a compelling story with an interesting what-will-happen-next question hanging in the air, and lots of misdirection as to what's going on in the beginning. The writing is pretty good, and the characters are fairly believable. Then, poof, the only thing we're left with in the end is whether or not a friend believes what the main character represents, and the answer to that is "who cares?".
A fantasy writer is very good at what he does, it all seems quite real. A critic friend of his likes his most recent book and is curious about the worlds he describes--too curious. The problem is that writing books is just a sideline of his real job; a job that can't stand scrutiny.
The characters are adequate, the description and plotting mediocre, and the tale too important to risk the distraction of a woman.