by Tee Morris
“Without Jaha, this whole plot will be meaningless,” Aladdin insisted.
From the stage, he heard the Sultan say, “Forgive me, All Powerful Jaha, but we are waiting.”
Aladdin turned back to Giles. “Protect Jaha. Just for this moment.”
His servant shook his head and then straightened up. “Very well, sir.”
The click-clack of a rifle bolt turned his attention back to the stage. Jaha was standing there before the guard, his stance now very different from the earlier illusion. Aladdin, knowing Jaha as he did, had no doubt that the clever magician would have some sort of plan to fool or foil such a wrinkle as he found himself in. The life that my false uncle wanted to show me, he thought as the guard shouldered his weapon, was not much different from his present life in the street.
Jaha waited, his own gaze steely and focused, apparently focused on the guardsman’s hand. He was watching for tells. He was looking for the precise moment to move.
The rifle fired. Jaha landed on one knee, his arms raised in some manner to block his chest; but on doing so, the magician appeared to slip. He landed on his knees, but his arms inexplicably remained suspended above him.
“Well now,” Giles comment. “Most intriguing.”
“Now, it’s our turn,” Aladdin said, motioning for Giles to follow.
Aladdin and Giles walked out of concealment, on to the stage. There were murmurs of concern and confusion as he walked up to the struggling Jaha. The magician went still on seeing him, and Aladdin smiled and pulled back the loose fabric of the man’s robes, revealing to the shock and disapproval of the audience metal gauntlets covering his forearm. He flicked his finger against one of them, allowing the light ring to echo in the near-quiet theatre. He then motioned to the space between Jaha and the rifleman, giving a light flourish with his hand.
There, suspended in the air, spinning like a child’s toy, was the bullet. It was much larger than the one Jaha had “caught” with the Sultan, and it remained suspended in its flight, and Aladdin slowly waved his hands around it, showing no strings or any sort of restraints holding it back. He blew on the slug gently and then wrapped his hand around it.
“Let me get this for you, Master,” Aladdin spoke, his humble tone filling the entire space around them.
The bullet was still warm but slowed down in its spinning once he gripped it. Aladdin pulled, and he felt the resistance on the slug lesson. He glanced over to Giles and noted a small light in his left arm begin to dim, until finally the light went out and the bullet was in his hand. At the same time, Jaha’s arms were released by the unseen force that had held his arms fast.
Aladdin looked around at the audience, including the stunned, slack-jawed Sultan, and then looked at himself, still in the grubby, plain clothes of a street urchin. “Not what you expected, perhaps, in the savior of the All Powerful Jaha?” He gave a nod to the crowd, and then bowed deeply to the Sultan. “My apologies.”
As he crossed the stage, Giles’ chest and legs opened and created a half cage that Aladdin stepped into and spread his arms wide. His clothes fluttered as if caught in a hard wind, and before the eyes of the audience the fabric around his legs shimmered into a brilliant blue, free of dirt and grime. Across his chest formed silk of a matching shade, the robes matching the style of Jaha’s. His hair now swirled and groomed itself, and from the top of Giles’ cage, a fine turban was woven and secured on his head.
The cage retracted, and Aladdin took center stage with a flourish, saying “And now I stand before you, transformed.”
The audience, led by the Sultan and his court, erupted into applause.
Aladdin turned to Jaha, and this time when facing the man’s growing fury, did not flinch.
“You discovered the secret of the lamp,” he seethed, his words heard only by Aladdin.
“I have, uncle,” Aladdin returned, the title he bestowed on Jaha given a slight edge. “Now, allow me to show you what I have learned from it.”
The din was dying down and Aladdin stretched his hands out before him. “My valet, here, is a creation I have inherited, and unlike my peer here—” Aladdin motioned to Jaha’s gauntlets still in plain sight. “—I will not share the science within my magic, for we are in modern times, are we not?” He bowed to Giles and then outstretched his arms. He heard his servant turned away for a moment, then turn back and slipped Aladdin into a familiar accessory. “And we can not only create magic from that which we inherit, but we can create magic ourselves.”
Aladdin ran to the edge of the stage and leapt. The screams of alarm soon changed to cries of wonder and appreciation as Aladdin swooped up into the air, performing arcs and loops over the audience with his carpet ornithoper. The balcony patrons waved to Aladdin as he flew by them, and the Sultan was on his feet, overcome with elation as he landed gracefully on the stage.
“The magic is within our grasp,” Aladdin said, his words overflowing with the exaltation and excitement of his flight. “We simply must dare to dream.”
He turned just in time to see Jaha moving towards him, his gauntlet now behind his head, poised in an attack. The magician suddenly stopped, his arm trapped across his face. Giles advanced on them both, the light in his arm flaring as he glided past Aladdin and drew closer on Jaha.
“Sir, the moment you asked on me has passed. What will you have me do with this cad?”
Aladdin slipped his flying carpet off his back and considered the magician. “Master Jaha, you took me on a quest for a treasure of the ages. Instead, I discovered something for more valuable—my destiny. So I should thank you.” He stepped behind his metallic valet and spoke, “Giles, send the All Powerful Jaha from where you came.”
“Gladly, Sir,” the automaton replied, and now his other hand came up.
A second light flared to life in his arm; and now bathed in the glow coming from Giles, the air distorted around the All Powerful Jaha. Jets of æther from Giles’ base swirled around Jaha like dust storms of the desert, enveloping the magician in a shroud that appeared to tear at the air around him. Jaha opened his mouth as if to scream, but no sound came. The light flared even brighter, and then all went dark.
Jaha was gone.
“For my next trick,” Giles turned to the Sultan, bowed, and asked, “would you care for a spot of tea, Your Majesty?”
No one moved. No one spoke. There was only silence.
Until the Sultan gave a little chuckle, to which he added to it, an enthusiastic clapping.
His harem joined in the applaus, and then the audience. Aladdin motioned to Giles to his side and together they took a bow.
“Great wizard,” the Sultan called from his throne, “what is your name?”
“I am Aladdin, Your Majesty,” he said, bestowing obeisance to his ruler. “My valet, Giles.”
“Your majesty,” Giles replied, mirroring Aladdin’s gestures.
“Young Aladdin, I am impressed with your apparent marriage of magic and sciences. Would you consider being a guest at my palace? I would be most interested in discussing the sciences with you.”
Aladdin felt his breath catch in his throat, not from the invitation but from the veiled woman standing alongside the Sultan’s throne. She was with the Sultan, but she was set apart from the harem. Her dark gaze fixed on him and it seemed to sparkle in the gaslight of the theatre. Aladdin felt a slight heat rise in his skin the longer she looked at him.
The Sultan looked at the woman, then back to Aladdin. “My daughter here has also voiced her interest in hearing of the sciences. I encourage such interests so would you please not only the throne but the daughter to the throne.”
Aladdin smiled, his eyes jumping from the concealed beauty to the Sultan. “Your Majesty, I live to serve.”
“It is settled then.” He clapped his hands and stood, turning to the audience still struck by the unexpected apex of this command performance. “Good people, we thank you for your attendance tonight. Master Aladdin will not disappoint you, I’m sure, in his next
performance here; but until then, heed his words and dream.”
Following one final ovation, the audience dispersed, leaving Aladdin and his mechanical companion with the Sultan, his daughter, and his court.
You will find your destiny as he promises but perhaps not in the fashion that you may imagine.
As soon as Aladdin could, he would want to call on his mother.
“Sir,” Giles asked, “what shall we do now?”
“Once we reach the palace,” Aladdin said, his eyes darting back to where the Sultan’s daughter stood. She was still watching him. “I need you to assist me in modifying my ornithopter to accommodate two flyers.”
“Two, Sir?”
Aladdin gave his valet a sly grin. “I can think of no better way to win a woman’s heart better than a magic carpet ride. Can you?”