The Genie and the Engineer 3: Ravages of War

by Glenn Michaels

  “Quick!” Paul urged. “Test for a magic spell!”

  Gemstones were used by Oni to track magic spells, but during their stay on Mars, Paul had discovered that the new talismans were more effective tools for that purpose. The image of the snake on the display changed, showing a color gradient. Most of the image was a cool green or blue. But the snake glowed a strong deep red.

  “A magical familiar!” shouted Daneel 1.

  “Launch Bushwhack, now, Now, NOW!” barked Paul.

  On the map, lights began to move as Scotties portaled into position around the houses, apartments, and residences of known wizards of Errabêlu.

  “How did they know?” Capie asked, her hand to her mouth.

  “I don’t know,” Paul muttered, concentrating on the map. “Maybe it’s just that one wizard.”

  “But there were no snakes a few days ago, when we did the interrogations!”

  Paul didn’t answer. He was just as puzzled as she was.

  But at least one wizard had been alert enough to establish an early warning system. The snake would have revealed Hadaly’s presence. Odds were, Hadaly wouldn’t be taking the President of Myanmar wizard captive.

  It only remained to be seen how many other wizards had also been forewarned.

  SEVENTEEN

  The Saint Elias Mountains, Canada

  Mount Logan

  Headquarters

  Monday, 9:58 a.m. PDT

  June

  Operation Bushwhack turned out to be an unmitigated disaster. Of the targeted 112 wizards, only 21 had actually been taken captive. All of the other target residences had been empty, the wizards of Errabêlu successfully avoiding the trap.

  Paul blamed himself, of course, as he studied the results on the world map. In retrospect, it was easy to see from the Errabêlu point of view. First, Hamadi had disappeared a few months previously. Then, just a few days ago, six wizards and a hundred Oni had vanished from the Errabêlu castle in Transylvania. So naturally, everyone in Errabêlu knew something was up and, quite naturally, they established early warning spells to protect themselves.

  Well, some of them did, anyway. But 21 had not. And of those 21, Paul was amused to note that there were two very familiar names on the list.

  Dr. Duncan Ruggiero and Celeste.

  “Are you sure you want to talk to them?” Capie asked from her seat at the conference table, with a pained puzzled look. “They were planning to murder you in cold blood.”

  Paul understood how thin the ice was he was skating on and therefore decided on extra measures of caution. He really didn’t want Capie to be jealous, especially when there was no cause for her to feel that way.

  “Not her, not specifically,” Paul replied trying to reassure his wife while gently squeezing her hand. “I’m interested in talking to Dr. Ruggiero as well as Celeste. I want both their inputs. And it won’t take long. You don’t have to come with me.”

  She studied his face with her patented “You must be crazy” look. “Leave you in the same room with that hussy? Not on your life!” she said with eyes ablaze and venom in her voice.

  Paul calmly nodded in assent.

  “Dad?” Daneel 2 asked. “We are already doing the interrogations for the other wizards. We can do these two as well, if you prefer.”

  “Yes, let them do the interrogations,” Capie insisted emphatically. “You trained them for this.”

  Feeling like he was being ganged up on, Paul grimaced and shook his head. “Yes, Daneel 2, I want the interrogations of the other wizards to continue, using the Avatar Technique. But this is not an interrogation, not just yet. What I’m trying to accomplish here is to answer the question of what do we do with the wizards of Errabêlu in the long run. And, as you know, I’ve assigned a team of Scotties, led by Rommie 451,” (Gene Roddenberry’s, Andromeda) “to explore the possible options. But in the meantime I want to find out from these two if there is another alternative available.”

  “Such as?” Capie asked, with a suspicious inquisitive look.

  With a shrug, Paul glanced at the floor. “Mind you, I don’t expect it to work. But it must be tried, at least once. And it stands a better chance on Ruggiero than anyone else.”

  Selma 1 floated through the door at that moment. “What stands a better chance, Dad?”

  “Logic.” He held up a hand to ward off any dissent. “Yeah, I know. Not likely to work. I think I just said that. Anyway, Daneel 2, pass the word to Darby 71. I want a platoon of Scotties to take those two prisoners to the best resort you can find on the northeast Scottish coast, near Aberdeen or Edinburgh. The swankiest resort that you can find for them. Don’t let them escape but let them relax and have a good time for a day or so.” He glanced over at Celeste. “We’ll be there tomorrow evening to have dinner with them. They say that you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. Let’s see if they are right.”

  Ω

  Early the next day, by way of portal over the North Pole, Paul and Capie arrived at the Malmaison Boutique Hotel sitting on a rocky cliff above the city of Aberdeen. It was nearly six pm local time, when they checked in, taking the Terraced Suite.

  From the front desk, Paul guided Capie through to the Chef’s Table, a cozy private dining room for eight people not far from the kitchen. There they found Ruggiero and Celeste seated at the table, enjoying cocktails and picking at a plate of bacon turnovers known as piragi.

  “Ah!” Ruggiero said, his eyebrows going up appreciatively as he caught sight of Paul. “Our hosts have finally arrived!”

  Paul nodded at the half dozen Scottie guards in the room. Quietly, they slipped out into the hallway beyond.

  “Finally! A bit of privacy!” grunted the Errabêlu wizard.

  Celeste ignored Capie but smiled warmly at Paul.

  “Paul!” Celeste said cordially, with a big smile, stepping around her chair to take both of his hands. “I am so glad to see you again!”

  Paul dispassionately noted her distinct flinch as her hands touched his own but paid it no attention. There were weightier matters to deal with here.“You were gone a long time, young man,” Dr. Ruggiero granted, with good humor. “It is nice to see you again and in such good health. And with two arms again, as well.” He reached out to shake Paul’s hand and more visibly blinked when their hands made contact.

  Paul nodded with a tight smile. “It’s a long story, but I am sure the two of you can feel the level of magic at my command. This is my wife, Copernicus Kingsley-Armstead.”

  “You are very beautiful, my dear,” Celeste acknowledged reaching out to touch Capie’s bare arm. And wincing again. “And a full wizard of your own too. Ah, more than that, you are expecting? Oh, many wonderful congratulations!”

  Capie eyed the other woman as if she wanted to claw her face. Paul turned in surprise and shock to stare at his wife, not believing Celeste’s words to be true.

  But Capie refused to look back at him and Paul realized that Celeste had indeed spoken the truth. His wife was pregnant and he was going to be a father! A sense of pride swept through his whole body and his soul suddenly burned with love for his wife. The tiny man in the back of his head was leaping up and down and turning cartwheels with joy!

  But Paul restrained himself from any other outward sign of emotion. Now was not the time to share his joy with any of the wizards of Errabêlu. There would be time for that later, when Capie and he were alone. Nevertheless, Paul reached out and took Capie’s hand, squeezing it gently and giving her his best loving smile. Relaxing ever so slightly, she gave him a half smile in return.

  “She’s the love of my life,” Paul proclaimed.

  Dr. Ruggiero’s smile vanished as he stared at the back of the door. “And these floating cubes? What are they?”

  Capie gave him a wintry smile. “Those are our army of wizards,” she answered, closely watched their reactions.

  Ruggiero grimaced and swung back to face Paul.

  “Young man, I know we didn’t quite get off on the ri
ght foot last year but please, let us put those differences aside. Just return our talismans and we’ll be on our way, no harm done, shall we say.”

  Paul smiled, knowing how annoyed the man was by the situation.

  “Let’s have dinner first and then we’ll discuss it like civilized people, shall we?” he suavely suggested. “Oh, waiter?” he said, as the door opened and a gray-haired man stuck his head partway into the room. “Four for dinner please. And another plate of appetizers if you will.”

  Paul glanced at the surprised look on Ruggiero’s face. “I understand that both the pork cutlet and the lobster risotto are both excellent here. Have you tried either one and if so, what do you recommend?”

  Ω

  It was a bit of a strain through dinner, but the four of them managed not to talk “business” during the meal. Despite what Paul found to be most excellent cuisine, both Celeste and Ruggiero found the fantastic food to be merely adequate. The luxurious accommodations were also met with faint praise.

  After desert (a choice of tonka bean panna cotta with strawberries, honeycomb and strawberry sorbet or the Valrhona dark chocolate tart with a passion fruit sorbet), the four of them moved to the Reception Room where they found comfortable seats in front of the natural gas fireplace. Ruggiero and Celeste ordered cocktails while Paul and Capie selected English teas.

  “Well, young man,” Ruggiero said, after sipping his drink. “Shall we get down to business now? I ask again, please return our talismans and we’ll be on our way.”

  “And the other wizards?” he asked.

  Ruggiero was momentarily puzzled by the question.

  “You captured other wizards? Well, if you did, you should release them as well, of course.”

  “So that they can go back to their preparations for World War III,” Paul stated, dispassionately.

  “Quite,” Ruggiero acknowledged, with a small chuckle. “Yes, I know. You are one of those Normie lovers. You want Errabêlu to cease manipulating the governments of the Normies. Am I correct?”

  “Indubitably,” Paul responded, with a tight smile.

  “Idealistic but impractical,” Ruggiero said, with a sad sigh. “First, the Normies cannot govern themselves. Second, it is Errabêlu that is the solution. The human race owes us a great deal of credit as well as thanks for all that we have done for it. And, with just a few hundred years more work…well, the level of technology at that time will take us to the stars. A worthy cause indeed. Join us and we can see it brought to fruition.”

  “Nope,” Paul said, with a bigger smile. “It’s not going to be played that way. Instead, we are going to play a little game. I will be the host, Monty Hall, and the name of the game is “Let’s Make a Deal.” Now, behind Door Number 1, there is death. As painless as possible, but rather permanent, I’m afraid.”

  “Door what?” asked Celeste, with a puzzled scowl on her face.

  “Behind Door Number 2 is stasis. Not permanent, no, but long term. Hundreds if not thousands if not tens of thousands of years. Not a lot better than Door Number 1, if you want my opinion.”

  The doctor frowned. “Is there a Door Number 3?”

  Paul leaned forward, putting his cup of tea on the coffee table in front of him.

  “Yes, there is one more door,” he replied, carefully studying the faces of the two Errabêlu wizards. “Cooperation. Work with us, voluntarily. The Normals will be on their own, government wise. Oh, sure, we’ll give them a little helping hand, so that they can overcome all the defects and damage they’ve suffered over the centuries. That’s why there are so many Scotties here, both to help the Normals and to make sure that Errabêlu never interferes again. But, in time, the Normals won’t need us even for that.” Paul looked Ruggiero sternly in the eye. “Humanity has made a lot of progress over the centuries. Yes, they still have a lot of problems. I would be the first to agree with you on that score. But they are far enough along now that they can work out the majority of those problems, as soon as Errabêlu gets out of the way. What do you say? Door number 3?”

  Ruggiero stared at Paul with a frown tinged with anger. “I recognize your sincerity but, believe me, as one who has personally watched humanity closely over several centuries, you are mistaken in your belief. Normies are misguided, weak, selfish, arrogant, decadent, immoral, and incapable of seeing to their own needs. Believe me, Paul, with all of my heart, I wish it were not so but I only speak the truth here.”

  “As one who was recently one of those Normals, I must, of necessity, disagree with you, Doctor,” Paul said before waving his arm around him. “A Normal did all this, with a little education and a few magical powers. However, it is obvious that you disagree with us and so we must go our separate ways.”

  Celeste cleared her throat. “And just what is it that you intend to do with us if we don’t pick any of your doors?”

  Paul sighed and leaned back in his chair.

  “You will be taken back to the prison, for a while, until we capture the remaining wizards of Errabêlu. And then we will put you in stasis, unless you choose to cooperate with us. And the sooner the better.”

  Celeste glared daggers at him. “The path you are on will only lead to the destruction of the human race,” she snapped at him. “We can’t be a party to that.”

  “I wholeheartedly agree,” Ruggiero declared with a bitter frown. “And you can’t win. You may have taken a few wizards captive but Errabêlu is very powerful. You can’t succeed. Please, don’t do this. It will only lead to your destruction.”

  “Please change your mind,” Celeste begged. “Don’t do this. You cannot know what lies ahead for you. Or for your charming wife, or your child. Please, don’t do this.”

  Capie smiled wickedly. “If you’re arguing against it, then I know for sure we are doing the right thing.”

  Paul sighed somberly. “I had to try to convince you. I have no desire to unleash either Doors 1 or 2 upon you, but you leave me no options. Thank you for the pleasure of your company through dinner. In the morning, the Scotties will take you back to prison. Goodbye.”

  Ω

  Changing his mind, Paul elected not to stay at the resort but to return to the Mount Logan facility instead.

  Somehow, he managed to restrain his joy until they had returned to their quarters there.

  Then he grabbed his gorgeous wife and swung Capie around, clasping her tightly in his arms.“You’re pregnant?!” he shouted.

  Capie nodded nervously. “I was waiting until the right time to tell you. You seemed to have so much on your mind lately.”

  Paul let rip a Tarzan yell and started dancing a jig with her. Daneel 1 entered the room behind them, puzzled by the two humans’ emotional outbursts.

  “How far along are you?” Paul asked, as he stopped his dance, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Seven weeks,” she gasped, laughing at his antics.

  “Oh, Happy Day!” Paul sang.

  “She’s going to have a baby, Dad?” Daneel 1 apprehensively asked.

  Paul turned to the Scottie. “Yes, Daneel, Mom is pregnant. This will be her first human child and we are quite excited about it.”

  “Oh,” the cube replied dourly.

  Paul sensed a certain degree of disappointment, perhaps even sadness.

  “Daneel, don’t worry. Mom does not love you or any of the other Scotties any less. This human baby is not going to replace you in her heart. Nor in my heart either. Trust me, it just makes our family that much larger, that’s all.”

  Capie reached out to stroke the side of his cube. “That’s right, Daneel. All of you have a special place in my heart. A human child will not replace that.”

  “Okay, Dad, Mom. Thanks. I guess that I just never thought about Mom having human babies. It does seem appropriate, now that I think about it.”

  Paul walked over and patted the side of his cube too. “You will see. It won’t make any difference in how we feel about you or any other Scottie,” he declared.

  Ω

&
nbsp; They were back in the Situation Room on the 12th floor, monitoring the maps. At least twenty Scotties were floating around the room, some of them engaged in various monitoring or communication tasks, others waiting for Paul and Capie’s arrival.

  “So, what do we do now?” asked Norby 1, as several Scotties gathered around him. “I mean since Bushwhack failed.”

  “We have to go to a fall-back plan,” Paul announced to the group as he studied their holographic faces. “There is very little that the wizards of Errabêlu care about. They are in love with themselves, of course, but not with much else, including property, which is easily replaced. And they are too self-centered to care about each other. But there is one other thing they do care about. Something they’ve spent many man-years investing in.”

  “The governments they control,” Capie said confidently with a nod. “Of course.”

  “So it’s Operation Stalking Horse?” Daneel 1 asked.

  “Yes, Operation Stalking Horse,” replied Paul with a slight chuckle. “I want to start with Beijing, Tokyo, and Canberra, Australia. We will see how well those work before launching operations in other countries. Daneel 1, put together the teams and send them out as soon as they are ready. We will monitor operations here via microportals.”

  Daneel 1 laughed as he headed toward the map on the north wall. “With pleasure, Dad.”

  Ω

  The east wall of the conference room held several displays, one of them displaying the image of David 707 (from A.I., Artificial Intelligence, 2001) and his battalion (I Corps, 1st Division, 4th Brigade, 5th Battalion) of over 600 Scotties as they approached their LZ. This was located in a small uninhabited mountain ravine south of Mount Qingshui not very far west of Beijing, the capital city of China.

  Daneel 1 nodded at the map. “Naturally, we can’t just march in and demand that they surrender. According to our intelligence data, there are two wizards that reside in Beijing. If we show up in strength, those wizards will flee, just like they did for Operation Bushwhack. So we have to be sneaky about this.”