enough to keep me locked up in one of those damnedpentagrams. Drat it, I thought the last copy of that book was burnedand I was free. Your signal caught me in the middle of dinner."
* * * * *
Henry swallowed thickly, feeling the sweat trickle down his nose. Thebook had warned against summoning the demon without the protectivedevices! But the thing seemed peaceful enough for the moment. Hecleared his voice. "You mean--you mean magic works?"
"Magic--shmagic!" the creature snorted. He jerked his thumb toward thetelevision. "To old Ephriam--the crackpot who wrote the book before hewent completely crazy--that set would have been more magic than I am.I thought this age knew about dimensions, planes of vibrations, andsimultaneous universes. You humans always were a backward race, butyou seemed to be learning the basic facts. Hell, I suppose that meansyou'll lay a geas on me, after I was hoping it was just anexperimental summons!"
Henry puzzled it over, with some of the fright leaving him. Thescientific sounding terms somehow took some of the magic off theappearance of the thing. "You mean those passes and words set up somesort of vibrational pattern...."
The hairless fellow snorted again, and began attacking the grapes."Bunk, Henry! Oh, my name's Alfear, by the way. I mean I was a fool. Ishould have gone to my psychiatrist and taken the fifty year course,as he advised. But I thought the books were all burned and nobody knewthe summons. So here I am, stuck with the habit. Because that's all itis--a conditioned reflex. Pure compulsory behavior. I'm sensitized toreceive the summons, and when it comes, I teleport into your planejust the way you pull your hand off a hot stove. You read the wholebook, I suppose? Yeah, just my luck. Then you know I'm stuck with anyjob you give me--practically your slave. I can't even get back withoutdismissal or finishing your task! That's what comes of saving moneyby not going to my psychiatrist."
He muttered unhappily, reaching for more grapes, while Henry began todecide nothing was going to happen to him, at least physically. Soulswere things he wasn't quite sure of, but he couldn't see how justtalking to Alfear could endanger his.
"Still," the creature said thoughtfully, "it could be worse. Nopentagram. I never did get mixed up with some of the foul odors andmesses some of my friends had to take. And I've developed quite ataste for sugar; tobacco, too." He reached out and plucked a cigaretteout of Henry's pack, then a book of matches. He lighted it, inhaled,and rubbed the flame out on his other palm. "Kind of weak tobacco, butnot bad. Any more questions while I smoke this? There's no free oxygenwhere I come from, so I can't smoke there."
"But if you demons answer such--such summons, why don't people knowabout it now?" Henry asked. "I'd think more and more people would begoing in for this sort of thing. If the wizards were right allalong...."
"They weren't, and we're not demons. It didn't get started until yourMiddle Ages. And if it hadn't been for old Apalon...." Alfear lightedanother cigarette off the butt, which he proceeded to extinguish onthe tip of his sharp tongue. He scratched his head thoughtfully, andthen went on.
"Apalon was studying your worship. You see, we've been studying yourrace the way you study white rats, using lower races to explain ourown behavior. Anyhow, he got curious and figured out a way tomentalize himself into your plane. He was sort of a practical joker,you might say. So he picked a time when some half-crazy witch wastrying to call up the being you worship as Satan to make some kind ofa deal. Just as she finished, he popped up in front of her, spittingout a bunch of phosphorus to make a nice smoke and fire effect, andagreed with all her mumbo-jumbo about having to do what she wanted.She wanted her heart fixed up then, so he showed her how to usebelladonna and went back, figuring it was a fine joke.
"Only he made a mistake. There's something about moving between planesthat lowers the resistance to conditioning. Some of our people cantake five or six trips, but Apalon was one of those who was soconditioning-prone that he had the habit fixed after the first trip.The next time she did the rigamarole, back he popped. He had to dig upgold for her, hypnotize a local baron into marrying her, and generallykeep on the constant _qui vive_, until she got sloppy and forgot thepentagram she thought protected her and which he was conditioned to.But after he disintegrated her, he found she'd passed on the word to acouple of other witches. And he knew somebody at the Institute wasbound to find what a fool he'd made of himself.
"So he began taking members aside and telling them about the trick ofgetting into your world. Excellent chance for study. Have to humor thehumans by sticking to their superstitions, of course. One by one,they went over on little trips. It wasn't hard to find somesuperstitious dolt trying to summon something, since word had gotaround in your world. One of us would pop up, and that spread the wordfurther. Anyhow, when Apalon was sure each member had made enoughtrips to be conditioned, he'd tell him the sad truth, and swear him tosecrecy on penalty of being laughed out of the Institute. The oldblaggard wound up with all of us conditioned. There was quite a flurryof witchcraft here, until we finally found a psychiatrist who couldbreak the habit for us. Even then, it was tough going. We'd never havemade it without the inquisitions and witch-burnings one of ourexperimental sociologists managed to stir up."
Alfear put out the third cigarette butt and stood up slowly. "Look, Idon't mind a chat now and then, but my wives are waiting dinner. Howabout dismissing me?"
"Umm." Henry had been thinking while he listened. It had sounded likea reasonable explanation on the whole, except for the bit aboutApalon's disintegrating the witch. Apparently as long as a man wasn'ttoo unreasonable, there was a certain usefulness to having suchfriends on call. "What about the price for your help? I mean--well,about souls...."
Alfear twitched his ears disgustedly. "What the deuce would I do withyour soul, Henry? Eat it? Wear it? Don't be a shnook!"
"Well, then--well, I've heard about wishes that were granted, but theyall had a trick attached. If I asked for immortality, you'd give it,say; but then I'd get some horrible disease and beg and plead fordeath. Or ask for money, and then find the money was recorded as beingpaid to a kidnapper, or something."
"In the first place, I couldn't give you immortality," Alfear said, aspatiently as he apparently could. "Your metabolism's not like ours. Inthe second place, why should I look for tainted money? It's enoughnuisance doing what you ask, without looking for tricks to pull.Anyhow, I told you I half-enjoy visiting here. As long as you'rereasonable about it, I don't mind keeping my end of the compulsiongoing. If you've got something to ask, ask away. There are no stringsattached."
The creature seemed to be quite sincere. Henry considered it briefly,staring at a large tinted picture of Emma, and took the plunge."Suppose I asked you to kill my wife for me--say by what looked like astroke, so nobody would blame me?"
"That seems reasonable enough," Alfear agreed easily. "I could break afew blood vessels inside her skull.... Sure, why not? Only the picturein your mind is so distorted, I wouldn't know her. If she's like that,why'd you ever marry her?"
"Because she seemed different from other women, I guess," Henryadmitted. "When I tipped the canoe over, and I figured she'd be madbecause her dress was ruined, all she said was something about notbeing sugar, so she wouldn't melt." He shuddered, remembering all thetimes she'd said it since. "You won't have any trouble. Look, can youreally read my mind?"
"Naturally. But it's all disorganized."
"Umm. Well." It gave him a queasy feeling to think of anyone seeinghis secret thoughts. But this fellow apparently didn't work by humanattitudes, anyhow. He groped about, and then smiled grimly. "Allright, then. You can tell I think of her as my wife. And just to makesure, she'll be sure to say something about early to bed and early torise; she says that every single damned night, Alfear! She nevermisses."
Alfear grunted. "Sounds more reasonable every minute, Henry. Allright, when your wife says that, I pop out and give her a stroke thatwill kill her. How about dismissing me now?"
"No strings?" Henry asked. He watched carefully as Alfear noddedassent,
and he could see no sign of cunning or trickery. He caught hisbreath, nodded, and closed his eyes. Seeing something vanish wasnothing he wanted. "Dismissed."
* * * * *
The fruit was still gone when he opened his eyes, but there was noother sign of the thing. He found some fruit still in the refrigeratorand restocked the bowl. Then he closed the strange book and put itaway. He'd have to buy it himself, and burn it to make sure no oneelse found the trick, of course. For a moment, uneasiness pricked athim. Yet
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