Chapter 3
GROANING. JACK OPENED his eyes. It hadn't been a nightmare. He was still in Merlin's office. Everything looked the same. Except the magician was no longer there. Not expecting an answer, Jack called out Megan's name. No one replied.
Gingerly, he touched where his skull throbbed with pain. He jerked his head away in agony. Nothing felt broken, but he worried about a possible concussion. Dizzily, he forced himself to his feet.
The room spun about, then steadied. He rubbed his eyes in annoyance. The colors seemed wrong. There was a pink tint to everything. Then he remembered the rose-colored contact lenses.
The thought sent his mind reeling. He barely glimpsed the invading bikers, but he felt sure they hadn't possessed auras. Merlin and his daughter had been kidnapped by supernatural foes.
Jack toyed with calling the police. He rejected the idea instantly. That path led straight to the mental ward. His own initial reaction to Merlin's identity made that clear. And Jack couldn't back up his claims with magical powers. The authorities were out. If anyone was going to save Merlin, it had to be him.
That the bikers worked for the mysterious evil power described by Merlin, Jack had no doubts. Somehow, the force had discovered the magician posed a threat to its plans and had sent its minions to kidnap the mage and his daughter. Why the gang hadn't just killed the pair, Jack didn't know. He knew for sure it wasn't out of any feelings of mercy.
Fortunately, their unseen enemy was not omniscient. It failed to realize that Merlin had recruited Jack for the struggle. The bikers had treated him as a minor annoyance to be swatted out of the way, nothing more. Unless, he concluded gloomily, his efforts meant nothing and were doomed to failure. At present, that seemed extremely likely.
Merlin's rambling discourses left too much unsaid. Jack had no idea how to find, much less defeat, the evil that threatened the future. A mere graduate student in mathematics, he still had not a clue as to why the magician felt he was qualified for the job of saving mankind. Solving equations, not slaying demons, was his specialty. But, he had to try.
Jack wondered if perhaps that was the reason he had been chosen. All his life, he had faced every challenge in his path, no matter what the odds. He never shirked his responsibilities. He attacked his problems with a single-minded determination that ruled out failure. Defeat was not part of his vocabulary. A relentless streak ran through him, making him a much more dangerous foe than anyone ever guessed.
Wobbly, he staggered out of the office, carefully closing the door behind him. His fingerprints were all over the place. That could cause trouble if anyone noticed Mr. Ambrose and his secretary were missing. Jack suspected supernatural entities left no such marks.
Waiting for the elevator, he suddenly remembered the Universal Charge Card. He fumbled through his pockets for a few seconds before finding it. With a sigh of relief, he slipped the rectangle into his wallet. Perhaps he could use the card to track down the missing magician. It wasn't much of a plan, but at least it provided a starting point for further ideas.
Reaching the ground floor, Jack straightened his shirt and dusted off his clothes before confronting the security guard stationed in the front hallway. He needn't have bothered. The grizzled police veteran didn't even look up from his newspaper when Jack coughed.
"Whatcha want?" the officer mumbled.
"You didn't happen to notice a gang of bikers leaving here a short while ago?" Jack hesitated, realizing how foolish he sounded. "Accompanied by an old man and a young lady?"
The guard squinted over the paper at Jack. Dark eyes peered around warily. "No gangs allowed in my building, sonny. That includes bikers. Now go away and quit bothering me. Can't you see I'm busy?"
A talkative newspaper vendor across the street confirmed the officer's claim. "Ain't their territory," the old man declared in a high-pitched voice. "They steer clear of the Loop. Too many cops around for them to try anything."
Jack shook his head in annoyance. The kidnapers had somehow managed to enter and leave the office building unseen. Merlin claimed the teleportation spell only worked on small objects, so that was eliminated. Perhaps the gang knew the secret of invisibility. With magic real, anything was possible. Anything at all. It was not a comforting thought.
Chapter 4
DESPITE ALL THAT had taken place in the past few hours, a few lingering doubts troubled Jack. He needed to prove to himself that Merlin had been telling him the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. There was only one sure way to find out. He decided to test the Universal Charge Card.
It didn't take him very long to find an outdoor cash station. They were scattered all over the Loop. Even the local McDonald's had one.
Gingerly, Jack put the plastic rectangle into the ATM. Without a flicker of hesitation, the machine sprang to life. "Please enter your four-digit identification code" appeared on the video monitor directly in front of him. Gulping, Jack typed in the special code listed on the back of the card he had memorized earlier. No alarms sounded. So far, so good.
Following the instructions on the screen, he entered "withdrawal" when asked what type of transaction he wanted to perform. Up to then, everything followed the usual routine for cash stations. Then magic took over.
Normally, the next screen should ask where he wanted the money taken from—his savings account, checking account, or as a cash advance against his credit card. Instead, large block letters merely asked, "How much, Jack?"
Licking his lips, he typed in "$250." Jack found it somewhat unnerving to have a machine address him by name.
"Small bills okay?" flashed the new message.
"Yes," typed in Jack.
With a hum, the machine closed up tight. When it opened a few seconds later, there was $250 in fives and tens in the money drawer. Along with Jack's card.
"Take care" flashed across the video screen as Jack scooped up the cash and stuffed it in his pockets. There was no receipt nor did Jack ask for one.
After three more withdrawals at different machines. Jack was convinced. He had remained cautious, never taking out more than $250 at any one machine. Not that the automatic tellers questioned the amount. As far as he could tell, they would have given him as much as he wanted. Thousands at least, if not more.
At least he had been smart enough to ask for big bills when prompted by the other machines. Even then, the wad of cash bulging in his pocket made him slightly paranoid. And, he had to admit, feeling terribly tempted.
Hundreds, if not thousands, of cash machines dotted the city and surrounding suburbs. Finding them wouldn't be difficult. It might take a few days to reach them all but he could do it. Especially considering the reward. If he withdrew a thousand bucks from each ATM, he would end up with over a million, tax free, cold cash, dollars. Enough pay to make his most decadent imaginings come true. The thought of that much money his for the taking gave him the shakes.
Jack shook his head. It was a seductive idea, but he was much too honest to do anything more than dream. Merlin obviously knew the power of the card, and yet he had still given it to Jack. There was no way he could betray the magician's trust. Besides, a fortune wouldn't mean much if Merlin's ominous forecast of the future came true.
That thought in mind, Jack started walking down the street to the El. If he was going to save the world, it was time to stop daydreaming and do something. Always methodical—the mark of a good mathematician—Jack planned his next moves.
First and foremost, he needed to return to the university and get some medical attention. After that, dinner would be nice, and some time to reflect carefully on what little Merlin had told him. Then, hopefully, working from that information, he could formulate a plan of attack. Though, he suspected preventing the destruction of civilization might prove to be a bit more of a challenge than his usual routine.
Reaching the entrance to the subway, Jack hesitated. He wondered if taking the underground back to campus might be a bad idea. Money in his pockets put a new twist on th
ings. A rash of muggings, many of them taking place near the Elevated station, had plagued the college for the past month. Walking the three blocks from the train to the school might be tempting fate. As far as he was concerned, one beating a day was more than enough.
Fingering a crisp new twenty-dollar bill, Jack contemplated taking a taxi back to campus. This was entirely different from his daydreams about spending the money on wild living. A cab ride was a perfectly legitimate expense. Merlin had given him the Universal Charge Card and told him to use it whenever necessary. Or, at least the magician seemed to imply that when he gave Jack the card back in his office. Jack couldn't actually remember Merlin saying anything about the card one way or another.
Stifling the last few twinges of guilt, Jack flagged down a cab. One of the prerequisites of saving the world, he decided, was staying healthy long enough to get the job done. And if that meant spending some money not his own on a few luxuries, so be it.
Settling back in the backseat of the taxi, Jack breathed a sigh of relief. Everyone he knew said he spent too much time making decisions. He had to admit they were probably right. On the other hand, it might be the reason Merlin hired him.
"Ain't it somethin' about those girls disappearin' in the Loop?" the cabdriver asked, breaking through Jack's reverie. "Real mystery, huh?"
"Sure," Jack answered, his mind on other things. Then, the meaning of the words gradually sank into his consciousness. "Exactly what disappearances are you talking about?"
"Been talking about it on da radio all day," said the driver. "Big story. Surprised you ain't heard the news."
"Too busy working, I guess," said Jack. "Tell me all about it."
"Seems dat bunches of women, office workers mostly, been vanishin' from Loop buildings durin' the past week. Police been trying to keep the story quiet, but one of the relatives squawked to the news. Caught the cops with their pants down. I heard the chief of police three times today, claiming they expected a big break in the case anytime now. You know what dat means. They ain't got a clue what's happenin'."
"Bunches of women? Disappearing?" asked Jack, frowning. He wondered if the story tied in some way with Merlin and Megan's kidnapping. A cold chill ran down his spine. Coincidence only stretched so far.
"Forty or fifty of them, according to the radio. Missin' without a trace from offices all over the Loop. They just vanish—leavin' work, goin' ta the ladies room, comin' back from lunch. It's damned spooky."
"Only women?" asked Jack.
"You got it, boss. Just babes. Funny thing, though. Ain't only the good-looking ones missin'. According to the news, the dames range in age from twenty to sixty. No ransom notes, no dead bodies, no nothing turned up as of yet. Watcha think? White slavers or somebody like dat? Grabbing the women and shipping them overseas or somethin'? Maybe dose rich Arab sheiks are behind the whole t'ing?"
"I don't know," said Jack. Nor did he. "I truly don't know."
Jack grimaced in frustration. It seemed safe to assume that Merlin's kidnapers were the same gang behind the other abductions in the Loop. But, if the police, with all of their resources and manpower, were baffled by the crimes, how could he expect to solve the mystery? He was a mathematician, not a detective.
I guess if I'm going to save the world, he thought to himself, I'll have to be both.
Somehow the thousand-dollars-a-week salary Merlin mentioned no longer seemed that outrageous. Jack had a feeling that before too long he would be feeling underpaid.
Chapter 5
WITH A CURSE, Roger Quinn slammed down the telephone. Life was bad enough these days serving a bloodthirsty demigod without having to deal with incompetent employees. Sometimes he wondered how the world continued to function as well as it did. He paused for a second, then decided he had answered his own question.
For years, he had known that most people were incredibly inept. Now, to his dismay, he was learning that the denizens of the supernatural plane were no better. If anything, considering the fact that they were creations of mankind's dreams and desires, they performed even worse than their makers. Grinding his teeth in annoyance, Roger set off to find his master, the Crouching One, Lord of the Lions. He shuddered to think of the demigod's reaction to the news. There would be hell to pay. Literally.
As usual, Roger found the Crouching One in the library, scanning another volume of the encyclopedia. The ancient god had an insatiable thirst for knowledge and could absorb information at an incredible rate. In the past month, it had gone through dozens of history and anthropology texts, and now was working its way through Roger's reference shelf. Needing neither sleep nor food, the demigod spent all of its time reading or scheming to take over the world. It did not like being disturbed while involved in either activity.
Dressed conservatively in a dark wool suit, black tie and white shirt, the Lord of the Lions appeared to be nothing more than a distinguished elderly gentleman. It seemed remarkably unremarkable, until you saw its eyes. They glowed startling yellow with an inner fire. On its infrequent trips from the mansion, the demigod wore dark glasses.
"Yes?" it hissed, clearly not pleased by his presence. "What do you want?"
"The call came in from Chicago," said Roger nervously. "They got the girl. And her father too."
The demigod's eyes blazed a little brighter. It nodded, looking pleased. "Exactly as I planned. I told you nothing could go wrong. The modern world cannot cope with ancient sorcery."
The Crouching One waved one hand in dismissal. "Now, go, and leave me alone. I do not like being disturbed while I am reading."
Licking his lips, Roger cleared his throat. "Uh, I'm afraid that wasn't all the news."
"What do you mean?" No mistaking the creature for human now. Its voice was like ice. "Tell me."
"When the Border Redcaps broke into Merlin's office, there was another person there. A human."
"So?" said the Crouching One. "That was nothing surprising. You told me the magician was a seer. That he was meeting with a client is no concern of ours."
Roger exhaled, his eyes gaze flickering around the room, trying to avoid the yellow glare of the demigod's eyes. "At the time, the Redcaps thought the same thing. They knocked the man unconscious and left him there. They had specific orders not to kill anyone unless absolutely necessary."
Blue flames crackled above the Lord of the Lions's brow. "Enough wasting time. Get to the point."
"The visitor never reported the attack to the police. Nothing unusual in that. Most people don't like to get involved if they can avoid it. But, according to our spies, he questioned both the guard in the lobby and a news vendor outside the building about the Redcaps." Roger's voice cracked as he reached the point of no return. "And, we've since learned that he's carrying a talisman of great power."
"A talisman," said the Crouching One, its voice a bare whisper. "The magician gave him an enchanted token. You are sure of this fact?"
Roger nodded glumly. "He's displayed it four times already. We're not sure exactly what it did, but each time it was used, the charm emitted a powerful burst of magic. Our sensitives recognized the discharge immediately."
"A lone man, armed with a talisman," said the Lord of the Lions, sounding curious. And slightly worried. "You think the old wizard summoned him to stop us?"
"I'm not the god here," said Roger stiffly. "You're the one who answers all the questions." His tone left no doubt what he thought of that arrangement. "I do remember you telling me that every time a challenge to order arises, so does a champion of the status quo. This guy could be the opposition."
"Quite possible," said the Crouching One. "Did the Huntsman question the magician, or his daughter?"
"That's not been possible," said Roger. "They've been unconscious since their abduction. Despite all attempts to wake them, the pair have remained asleep. Von Bern suspects a reflexive spell, one that takes effect immediately on captivity. It prevents the prisoners from revealing any secrets. And, torture is singularly ineffective when the vic
tim is comatose."
"Bah," grumbled the Lord of the Lions, sounding disgusted. "In my day, things were a lot easier. None of this sneaking around in the shadows nonsense. I was a god. My followers worshipped me. They treated me with respect. When I spoke, the world trembled. I was feared."
"I know, I know," said Roger, shaking his head. He was tired of listening to the demigod's complaints. Over the past few weeks, the Lion God had repeated its catalog of woes hundreds of times. It took very little to start its complaining. No more virgin priestesses. No more blood sacrifices. No more holy wars. The list went on and on. God or not, the Crouching One was a colossal bore.
"Well, best that we assume the worst," declared the Lord of the Lions. "I remember how all of us gods laughed at that character, Gilgamesh. What a pest he turned out to be. And then, of course, there was Moses. Nobody expected that sanctimonious busybody would cause such trouble."
"Moses?" repeated Roger, his mouth open in astonishment. "You knew Moses?"
"All of the Immortals knew Moses," said the Crouching One. "He was our bane—the first link in the chain of events that banished me and all those like me from the face of the Earth. Damned Hebrew was a lot more dangerous than he looked."
The Lord of the Lions smiled its special smile, the smile that gave Roger the shakes every time he saw it. The catlike smile, ancient and mysterious, without a trace of humor—or humanity. "But now I am back, and I won't be fooled so easily a second time. Not at all."
Blue sparks flashed as the demigod rubbed its hands together. "Call back our allies in Chicago. Let them put out the word to all those who roam the night. This mortal champion must be found and destroyed. He must be crushed before he can interfere with our plans. I want him dead. Now."
A Logical Magician Page 4