by Scott Meyer
“Well,” he said, “we don’t know for sure that anything bad has happened to them. We just know that they got pulled violently into the wall. Okay, let me rephrase that. We don’t know that anything else bad happened to them after they got pulled into the wall.”
“Isn’t there some way you can use your magic to find them?” Nik asked.
Gwen chose not to tell Nik that she and Martin had both tried to call Phillip and Brit with no success. Instead she said, “There may be. You live with Brit. Do you ever see her looking into an object? It may look like a book or a box. It would glow and change colors.”
Nik showed them into Brit’s bedroom and pointed to a rectangular shape under a velvet cloth. Martin could tell instantly that it was a one-piece Macintosh computer.
Gwen said, “Thank you, Nik. You should go rest. We need to be alone for this.”
Nik smirked, and looked at Martin.
Martin said, “Don’t worry. We won’t do anything naughty.”
Nik smiled at Gwen and said, “Oh, I know you won’t.”
Once they were alone, Gwen whipped the sheet off of the computer and looked for the on switch. Martin said, “It’s on the back, on your left there.”
There was a clear, sharp click, followed by a muddy, muffled bong, and the screen came on. The computer was a plastic rectangle with one disc slot and a screen slightly larger than the screen on Martin’s phone, but with a much lower resolution. It wasn’t an original Mac, but was from the dark years when Apple had churned out endless repetitions of the same basic designs. Martin knew that the computer had started out a tasteful shade of light gray, but as with all early Apple products, time had caused it to fade to a urine-like shade of yellow, a major problem for a computer that was often purchased as much as a fashion accessory as a business device. A problem, Martin thought, unless you’re the one trying to get people to buy a new one every two years.
Their plan was so straightforward that neither Martin nor Gwen had felt it necessary to even say it out loud. Plan A would be to try to find Phillip’s or Brit’s entry in the file with a name search, but that could take a while, and if another person had their exact name, which could happen, it would slow them down. It would be much faster to simply use either Phillip’s or Brit’s computer, and hope they had some sort of bookmark or shortcut to help them find their own entry. Phillip’s computer was a text-based relic, and was on a different continent, and hundreds of years away, so Brit’s was the obvious choice.
When the Mac had finally booted up, there were several shortcuts on the desktop, one of which was named “Repository.” Gwen clicked on it, and a program called Hypercard slowly loaded up. After an interminable wait, a new window opened up, asking Gwen to input a password.
Gwen said, “Huh. That’s odd.”
“Yeah,” Martin agreed. “I wonder why she’d password protect the file. Oh well. I’ll go check Phillip’s computer. You wanna come with?”
“No, I’ll keep nosing around on Brit’s computer.”
Martin said, “Cool,” and teleported away. Five minutes later Martin was back, and he didn’t look happy.
“How did people ever get anything done on those things?” Martin asked.
“Phillip has a Commodore 64, right? I’m not sure anyone did get things done on them. I think they were mainly designed for playing Omega Race. Didn’t you get him an upgraded model?”
“Yeah, it has all modern guts, but he still works in an emulator. I think just to annoy me.”
“The important thing is that he’s getting enjoyment out of your gift. Did you find him in the file?”
Martin shook his head. “Yeah, but it was password protected.”
“Weird!”
“I’ll tell you what’s even weirder. The password screen looked exactly like the one on Brit’s Mac. Same font and everything.”
Gwen shrugged. “Hmm. Maybe it’s something they decided to do together.”
Martin said, “Yeah, who knows. We’ll ask them when we find them. Just means we have to do this the hard way.” Martin reached into his pocket and pulled out the ornately carved box that he used to disguise his smartphone. He removed the phone, tapped a few times, swiped a few times, tapped a couple more, then stopped dead. He gave Gwen a look that she did not find comforting.
“What?”
Martin silently turned his phone around to show Gwen the exact same password box they’d seen on Brit and Phillip’s computers.
Gwen said, “I’ll try mine.” By the time she had finished the sentence she had produced her iPhone, and was already looking at the screen.
Martin said, “You do that. I’ll go try my laptop,” and teleported away.
Gwen sat alone in Brit the Younger’s bedroom, hastily swiping and jabbing at her phone. Finally, she cursed and put the phone away. She looked out the glass wall to the ocean beyond and muttered, “What’s going on?”
Martin reappeared. “It’s no good. I’m locked out on my laptop too.”
Gwen said, “Same goes for my phone.”
Martin said, “Yeah, I figured, and that’s not the worst of it.” Martin held up the first arrow that had been fired at Brit. It was enchanted to be relentlessly drawn to her. Even if there was some barrier that kept it from moving forward, it would get as close to her as it could. He held the arrow in the air, then let go. It fell straight to the ground. Gwen kicked at it with her foot. It moved a bit, aiming a different direction.
Gwen said, “I’ll go try my computer.”
Martin said, “Knock yourself out.”
Gwen was only gone thirty seconds before she returned, looking stricken. “This is bad, Martin. This is really bad.”
Martin said, “Yeah. It is. The good news is that our powers still work. Even though we’re locked out of the file, clearly the shell and the Atlantis Interface still have access.”
Gwen sat in front of Brit’s computer. “We don’t know what’s happened. We can still figure out who’s responsible.” She peered at the flickering screen and said, “Brit had a program running that was monitoring the shell, the interface, and all of the other various programs the delegates use to make manipulating the file easier. It was constantly cross-checking any activity with the list of registered delegates and resident sorceresses. Since magic was used to take Brit and Phillip, it’ll tell us who did it.”
She moved the mouse, clicked a few times, and got even closer to the screen, really studying the line she was reading.
Martin stood up, moved behind her, and asked, “What’s it say?”
“That whoever took Phillip and Brit is not a summit delegate or a resident sorcerer.”
“Great,” Martin said. “That narrows it down to just people we don’t know about.” Martin walked to the glass wall and stared out into the murky, blue-green ocean. Gwen got up from the useless computer and joined him.
“Nobody took it seriously,” Martin said. “Not even us, really. Brit didn’t even entirely believe that she could be hurt. Phillip believed, and Brit wanted to believe Phillip, and we helped them because they were our friends, and, frankly, it was kinda fun.”
“I don’t like the way you’re using the past tense, Martin.”
“I don’t either.”
Gwen said, “Look, everybody’s taking it seriously now. We don’t know that Brit and Phillip are dead. We don’t even know for sure if they’ve been hurt. All we know is that we can’t contact them.”
“Very reassuring.”
“It is. As long as we don’t know, there’s a chance. And now it’s not just you and me trying to figure this out. Everybody loves Brit, both of her. All of the sorceresses, all of the delegates, everyone knows how serious this is. Someone’s going to think of something, and even if they don’t there’s still you and me. Come on, Martin. You’re down right now, but we both know you don’t give up easily.”
Martin turned to face Gwen. Their eyes locked. Martin muttered, “You’re right, I don’t give up easily.” Their attention remained focused on each other’s eyes until Martin said, “I’ll see you later. I need to go think.”
Martin walked out of Brit’s bedroom, said goodbye to Nik, who was laying on Brit’s couch, and left. Gwen followed him silently, and watched him walk out the door.
Nik sat up, wincing a bit at the pain in his side, and asked, “What happened?”
Gwen shook her head and said, “I’m not sure.”
Nik patted the empty space on the couch next to him. Gwen sat down and pulled her legs up to her chest.
Nik said, “None of this is any of my business, but let me say what I think is going on and you can tell me if I have it right.”
Gwen nodded.
“Martin likes you, and has for a long time, yes?”
Gwen said, “I thought you meant the situation with Brit and Phillip being gone.”
“What? No, that’s magic stuff. I can’t be any help there. I don’t know anything about that, so I’ll stay out of it. You and your young man, I know all about that kind of thing. There I can help, if you want. Shall I continue?”
Gwen nodded.
“So, as I was saying, he likes you and has for a long time. You, on the other hand, took a little longer to decide that you liked him. Am I right?”
Gwen nodded again. She asked, “How do you know all this? Are we that easy to figure out?”
Nik said, “You are, but I had help. You’re Brit’s friend. He’s Phillip’s friend. Brit and Phillip have to talk about something, and I’m in earshot a lot more of the time than they think.”
Gwen enjoyed hearing Nik refer to Brit and Phillip in the present tense.
Nik continued. “I don’t know Martin well, but I’d bet that he’s been pretty obvious about his feelings.”
Gwen nodded emphatically.
“But now,” Nik said, “he doesn’t seem to like you so much anymore, and he’s being pretty obvious about that as well.”
Gwen didn’t nod. She didn’t have to.
Nik put his arm around her shoulders, squeezed gently, then asked, “Have you told him how you feel?”
“Yes. Many times.”
Nik smiled, then asked, “The positive feelings, or the negative ones?”
Gwen said, “I tried to, you know, get the message across. I was just subtle about it, you know?”
Nik squeezed her again. “Gwen, have his messages to you been subtle?”
Gwen laughed. So did Nik.
“So, if he doesn’t act with subtlety, what on earth made you think he would react to subtlety?”
Nik let that sink in, then continued, “It’s fun to be pursued. It’s fun to be desired. It’s also fun to pursue and to desire, but the thing is, it’s not as much fun, and it gets old a lot faster. Eventually, if you don’t show an interest, he’ll lose his.”
Gwen said. “I just, you know, I just thought maybe he was showing enough interest for both of us.”
Nik shrugged and said, “Clearly not.”
29.
It was a clear day in Camelot. Happy citizens went about their business beneath a blue sky, populated with just enough clouds to remind one that there were such things as clouds, and that they could be rather pleasant. The sun shone down, illuminating the streets and alleys of the city, and reflecting off of the gold- plated castle at the heart of Camelot, blinding anybody foolish enough to look directly at it.
The castle had been covered in genuine gold for the same reason that the castle had been built in the first place, and for that matter that the name of the city had been changed from London to Camelot, because Jimmy could.
Of course, one of the great advantages to having a gigantic castle covered with genuine gold is that anything that happens in front of that castle will seem mundane by comparison, even a wizard and a man in a modern business suit, both wearing sunglasses, appearing out of thin air.
Gary turned to Jimmy and said, “Okay, we’re here. I don’t think this is going to work, but we might as well get it over with.”
Jimmy held up a hand. “Please, Gary, may I have a moment? I haven’t seen this place for a very long time.”
Gary had been there the last time Jimmy had seen the castle, but had to remind himself that while it had only been a couple of months to him, to Jimmy it had been over thirty years. He chose not to dwell on the fact that on that occasion Jimmy had attempted to kill all of the other wizards.
Jimmy put his hands on his hips and took a deep, satisfied breath. For the most part, the castle was exactly as he’d remembered it. The spires, the buttresses, the grand entryway with its golden steps, they were all still there. The golden outer wall still shone just as brightly. The gilt castle gate was just as immense as ever. There were fewer guards at the entrance, but that was a minor detail. The only noticeable change was the statue that stood in the middle of the courtyard.
When Jimmy left, there had been a massive statue of the former king and the current king, both being guided protectively by Merlin, which was what the locals had called Jimmy, because he told them to.
It did not surprise him that the statue had been replaced. He had feared it would be a depiction of Phillip standing triumphant over Jimmy’s own defeated form, but that was not the case. Instead, the statue represented four figures: the king, a nobleman, a wizard, and a peasant, all the same size, and clearly equal in importance, standing together, hands joined in the spirit of unity with their arms raised in triumph, over Jimmy’s defeated form.
Jimmy had long ago realized that he was not a popular figure in Camelot, but it was unpleasant to have the idea demonstrated for him so vividly.
“All right,” Jimmy said. “Let’s do this.”
Jimmy had managed to convince Gary to cooperate, but it had not been easy, and his hold on Gary’s loyalty was shaky.
“Like I told you back at the cave,” Gary said, “I’ll do what you want, but on my terms, and I do all the talking, got that?”
Jimmy thought, Doing what I tell you to on your terms is still doing what I tell you to.
Jimmy said, “Got it.”
“Good.” Gary strode impatiently up the stairs to the main entrance to the castle. Jimmy followed behind.
As they approached the top of the stairs, Jimmy got a good look at the two guards who were stationed at the castle’s open doors and did not like what he saw. The guards were taller than average with a slight bluish cast to their skin, and teeth that didn’t quite seem to fit in their mouths. Clearly, these were some of the men that Jimmy had attempted to turn into orcs. Jimmy feared that they would recognize him, and remembering that the transformation process had not been painless, might not be too happy to see him. Or, even worse, they might be entirely too happy to see him.
As they reached the top of the stairs, Jimmy braced himself for a confrontation, but none came. He and Gary passed by the guards without exchanging a single word. As they passed into the cavernous, gold-trimmed antechamber, Jimmy whispered, “They didn’t remember me.”
“Oh, they remember you,” Gary said. “They just didn’t recognize you. Remember, the last time they saw you was only a month ago to them. You were thirty years younger and dressed like a wizard. Trust me, if they’d seen Merlin, they’d put those teeth you gave them to good use. Lucky for you, all they saw was a weird old guy dressed like a weirdo.”
“Lucky me,” Jimmy said.
Instead of passing into the grand hall of the castle Camelot where much of Jimmy’s final battle with Martin had taken place, they turned and went up a large, sweeping staircase that led to what had once been Jimmy’s office. Along the way, they passed another former orc. Once they were beyond his hearing, Jimmy said, “I’m glad to see that the process of changing them back to humans is going well.”
<
br /> Gary said, “If by well, you mean slowly and painfully, yes it is.”
Jimmy decided to drop the subject. Instead, he turned his thoughts to the task ahead. It would call for a slightly different approach than the one he’d used on Gary. Of course, Gary was doing the talking, at least at first. Jimmy would jump in if need be, of course, but he was curious to see what Gary would say. Most people had hidden talents, and someone with Gary’s sense of humor didn’t keep friends long unless he was pretty good at smoothing ruffled feathers.
They finally reached their goal, the door to Jimmy’s former office. Gary opened the door without knocking, but entered carefully, asking, “Is anybody here?” in a loud voice. Gary was through the door and had entered what used to be Jimmy’s lobby when Eddie emerged from his and Jimmy’s former office. Eddie smiled when he saw Gary.
Eddie was wearing his red silk robes, just as Jimmy remembered them. They helped sell his cover as Wing Po, the mysterious wizard from the east. Of course, his cover would have been utterly destroyed by Eddie’s thick New Jersey accent if any of the locals could recognize it.
Eddie said, “Hey Gary, how’re you . . .” Eddie’s words trailed off as he saw Jimmy enter. Given the changes in Jimmy’s appearance, it took a moment for Eddie to make sense of what he was seeing. By the time Eddie started shouting inarticulately and wielding his staff threateningly at Jimmy, it was clear that Eddie recognized him.
Gary threw himself between Eddie and Jimmy and spread his arms wide. Okay, Jimmy thought, let’s see what the kid has to say.
Gary shouted, “Dude! Dude! Dude.”
Eddie stopped yelling, but kept his staff pointed menacingly, murder in his eyes.
Gary said, “Dude?”
“What is this?” Eddie asked, through gritted teeth.
Gary said, “It’s Jimmy.”
“I know it’s Jimmy! What’s he doing here?”
“He showed up at my cave a half-hour ago. He was able to get access to the file again, but it took him a long time. He can’t hurt us. He’s still locked out of the shell, okay? You know that. You’re the one who controls the shell, so you know he can’t hurt us.”