Ruggiero considered the question as he chewed.
“We would like an opportunity to meet him too,” he finally replied. “But unfortunately, no one I’ve talked to knows anything about him. However, I am sure that in time, he will turn up. Was it he who taught you how to make your own talisman?”
“Ah, no. Merlin did...ah, I mean, a spell told me how,” Paul answered after another bite of salad.
“Very good. May I see your talisman?” Ruggiero gave Paul a disarming smile. “I promise to give it back.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Paul removed his talisman from the inside pocket of his dinner jacket and handed it to Ruggiero. The doctor studied both sides of it and then did a curious thing. He closed his eyes and placed the talisman flat against his forehead.
“Yes, gold and fairly pure. Good. The emeralds are of decent quality, though there are quite a few impurities and flaws in the crystals themselves. The meteorite isn’t too bad, though it has similar flaws. Oh, and you used obsidian. There are other, much better choices. And the spell you used to construct it must not have been the optimum. Still, I must compliment you on a fine first-time construct, and only after having magical powers for a couple of days, as well. You show considerable promise, my dear sir. Very considerable promise.” He turned to Celeste. “Wouldn’t you agree, Celeste?”
She smiled and nodded. “Paul is a good man.”
Paul felt his heartbeat tick up a notch at her agreement.
Ruggiero handed the talisman back to Paul and then proceeded to eat a roll before continuing. “I was struck by your escape from the Oni, how close you came to death. Nasty business, that. Very unfortunate that it happened so soon after gaining your powers. You say you used a spell to dig a tunnel in the earth in order to escape?”
Paul frowned, perplexed by the question. Apparently, the story had become twisted in the retelling of it.
“No, I allowed my molecules to slide past the molecules of the earth,” he explained patiently as he studied Ruggiero’s face to see if he was testing him in some unknown manner.
“Yes, that was it,” Ruggiero agreed with a polite smile. “Very ingenious on your part. Most people would not have thought of that, especially in a life-or-death situation such as you faced. Oh, and I dare say that when you opened a portal into outer space, that too was a flash of genius. The Oni were bound to follow, the dumb brutes. Wherever did you think of such a solution?”
There was something about his questions that set Paul on edge. Yes, the doctor was polite enough, and Paul could find nothing in the man’s words that challenged either himself or his story. Yet, the man left him with an uncomfortable feeling. Glancing at Celeste, he wondered if he might be a little jealous of the other wizard. A small voice in the backside of his mind was telling him that Celeste and Ruggiero had known each other for hundreds of years. On the other hand, Paul had just literally shown up on Celeste’s radar two days previously, and she had only known him for less than a day. Okay, so maybe Paul’s primitive subconscious was throwing out nefarious ideas when in reality, there was no true cause for concern. Ruggiero had to be one of the good guys, if a bit stiff and formal. Paul’s mother would have called him cultured.
“I saw it in 2001: A Space Odyssey,” Paul courteously answered. “A science-fiction movie.”
Both of the other wizards actually froze momentarily in mid-motion, Ruggiero managing to recover first. “Yes, yes, how...unusual. Inspiration can come from the most unlikely sources sometimes,” he muttered, apparently troubled by Paul’s answer, though for the life of him, Paul didn’t understand why.
Then Ruggiero smiled again. “Still, Mr. Armstead, we welcome you into our presence, where you will be safe. Celeste tells me that she has already offered you our modest services, to help heal your wounds and to teach you how to properly develop your new abilities. Does this meet with your approval?”
Paul nodded quickly and anxiously in agreement, feeling deeply grateful for the offer. “Yes, please, I would like that very much.”
Ruggiero continued to smile. “I would like to give you fair warning, too, as it were. Celeste has told you of the conflict among the other wizards. If you elect to stay with us, we will likely take advantage of the opportunity to solicit your recruitment. Celeste probably told you that we are forming a group of wizards to try and discourage the appalling escalation of world violence. We could use someone with your obvious talents and abilities. You will be given a position of considerable authority. And you will be handsomely compensated as well. Very handsomely so. Have you any objections to hearing and considering our proposals in that regard?”
It didn’t take a wizard to know that Celeste was listening carefully to Paul’s reply. How could he dare to refuse in front of her?
“I would like to hear your proposals, yes,” Paul said with a quick nod. “But I also need to go back to California and take care of a few things.”
“Most excellent,” Ruggiero replied. “However, we can’t let you go back to the States just yet, not with that arm. We can start on that problem in the morning. I will contact a trusted associate and get him started on locating a suitable replacement for you. It might take a day or two to find the right one. In the meantime, Celeste and I shall stay with you, to see to your needs. While you are here, please feel free to make yourself comfortable. As you’ve already discovered, we have a remarkable library available, which you are welcome to continue to browse at your convenience.”
“Thanks,” Paul said, trying mightily to hide his disappointment that Ruggiero was planning to stay. Why couldn’t the doctor leave to search for a new arm instead of sending someone else? That way, Paul could spend a little more time with Celeste.
The main course arrived (known as Zurcher Eintopt, Celeste informed Paul—a sort of pork stew, which was quite delicious), and the conversation switched to the war among the wizards as well as world affairs in general. Paul kept his mouth shut except to ask an occasional question or two. He just didn’t know enough about magic and wizards to carry on a decent conversation.
Eventually, dinner ended and the three wizards retired to the living room, where Ruggiero lit a pipe and offered Paul an after-dinner glass of brandy. As a true Californian, Paul did drink an occasional glass of wine, but never anything stronger, so he politely declined the doctor’s offer. Paul could tell that the man was disappointed in him.
Ruggiero turned to Celeste. “My dear, I hate to impose on you, but we have a few items of business to discuss. Would you mind if we met in the library for a half hour or so before we retire for the evening?”
She smiled radiantly. “Of course not, Duncan.”
This time, Paul did feel a stab to his heart, instantly recognizing it for the jealous reaction that it was. He quickly beat it down and silently berated himself. He had no cause to develop a crush on this woman! In Methuselah’s name, she was nearly 450 years his senior! And as a sixty-one-year-old man himself, the last thing Paul wanted to do was act like some love-sick junior high school student pining away over the head cheerleader! Geez, man, get a grip! he silently yelled at himself.
Ruggiero swung back in Paul’s direction. “Mr. Armstead, we know that you have experienced a most trying time and need a great deal of rest in order to recover properly. I thank you for your time this evening and for honestly answering our questions. Again, welcome to this humble abode, and don’t hesitate to call on us for anything you desire.”
The doctor reached out and shook hands with Paul again, very firmly.
“It truly has been a great pleasure to meet you,” Ruggiero said with a big smile on his face.
Paul had been politely, but firmly dismissed.
TWELVE
Paris, France
16th Arrondissement
December
Thursday, 9:01 p.m. CET
Upstairs, Paul sulkily changed back into the red pajamas and yanked back the covers on the bed. He hadn’t liked the way Ruggiero had so easily gotten rid of him. Li
ke he was some sort of wayward child, sent up to bed on a school night. And he didn’t much feel like sleeping, not after that afternoon nap. So instead, he plopped down on one corner of the mattress, stroking his chin with his right hand and thinking about the things Celeste and Ruggiero had told him. Wizards that controlled the governments of the world. Wars and rumors of wars instigated by them with selfish goals.
In truth, events on a personal scale had moved so incredibly fast! In three days, he had gone from being an overworked, underappreciated, second-rate contract employee to a full-blown wizard and a target of magically adept monsters. He had been lucky, very lucky, to have escaped their attack and luckier still to have been found and rescued by some “good” wizards. And they had promised to replace his severed arm, to teach him how to properly develop his new magical talents, and to adopt him into their group.
Okay, true, it was not what he had envisioned when he was offered magical powers. He was mystified and a bit put out with the wizard/genie for not explaining what he was getting Paul into. Why had the wizard/genie not mentioned the other wizards of the world or the Oni? Why had there been no warnings of the danger Paul would face as a newly minted wizard? If he ever saw the man again, he would surely demand some answers.
In the meantime, it appeared that Paul was in good hands and that he had a long productive future ahead of him. Right?
The more he sat and thought about the whole mess, the less he was able to convince himself that he was actually safe. After all, what did he really know about Celeste and Ruggiero? Of course, Celeste had rescued him from the desert and treated him extremely well. Yet, on the other hand, he had only known her for a day and Ruggiero for a mere couple of hours. And he was literally putting his life in their hands.
He admitted candidly to himself that part of his emotional response to Ruggiero was resentment. Paul suspected that Celeste and the good doctor were playing house—that they were actually lovers! It was the way Celeste looked at the man. But aside from those twangs of jealousy, he felt something more. It wasn’t anything he could put into words. Just a gut reaction to some of the things Ruggiero had said at dinner. Paul was old enough—and yes, he had been the victim of enough con jobs—to recognize when someone was being less than honest with him. And Ruggiero certainly had that effect on him. He didn’t seem trustworthy in some way.
Paul pushed his glasses up on his nose as he remembered that Ruggiero had asked Celeste to meet him in the library. They would probably talk about Paul, too. If so, he would be very interested to know what they were saying.
The idea of attempting to eavesdrop on a private conversation made him hesitate for a few seconds. It wouldn’t be ethical, not really. On the other hand, his situation verged on the precarious. Maybe this organization Ruggiero was trying to recruit Paul for was trustworthy and maybe not. Any information that Paul obtained, virtuously or not, might have quite an immediate impact on his life expectancy. It seemed like the smart thing to do.
His intentions therefore rationalized, at least to himself, Paul rose to his feet and began to pace. So, how could he spy on them and listen in on their conversation? He wasn’t about to sneak downstairs and listen in at the keyhole. If he had more experience with magical powers, there was probably some spell that would let him do it.
Yet, on the other hand, maybe that wasn’t such a good idea. Paul remembered how distinctly he had “sensed” the magic employed at dinner to bring the food in from the kitchen. With all his years of experience, Ruggiero would be sure to detect any spells Paul might use to spy on Celeste and himself. No, that wouldn’t do at all. Paul could just hear Ruggiero lecturing him for trying to use a spell any rookie wizard could instantly detect.
He was on the verge of casting the whole idea into the mental trash bin when an old, half-remembered “made-for-TV” movie came to mind.
The two of them were in the library, right? Since it was at the front of the house, that room had a bay window facing the front street. A bay window, to be sure, as were all the windows on the front of the house. But nevertheless, a nice glass window.
A laser. In the old TV movie, they had used a laser reflected off a window to measure the tiny vibrations induced by sound waves. So, yes, it was theoretically possible to listen to a conversation, say one that was taking place in a library, from the outside of the house, perhaps from hundreds of feet away.
Well, no, not that far. The street in front of the house was not anywhere near that wide. Fifty or sixty feet, then. A magical spell could create the laser beam, reflect it off the library window and then, using another spell, capture and convert the modulated laser light back to an audio signal.
His eyes narrowed in deep thought. But how to do that from the upstairs bedroom? Ideally, he needed to be physically present across the street to generate the laser. And surely, Ruggiero and Celeste would notice if he snuck out of the house, especially if he had to use a magical spell in the process.
Unless...unless he used a portal. Sure, that just might work. He could create a small portal, perhaps ¼ of an inch in diameter in order to keep the energy involved to a very low level, open the portal from the bedroom to the street, and then fire the laser beam through it. Getting the aim right might be a bit tricky, but another quick (and small!) spell could help him with that. And with a portal that small and far away from the library, there seemed to be a decent chance that neither Celeste nor Ruggiero would notice. After all, Paul had already used several small spells to help himself change clothes and clean his glasses, not to mention the ones he was using to heal his arm and control his weight, and there had been no reaction. There was undoubtedly some risk involved, but Paul could always claim that he was still learning to use his powers and had simply made a mistake. If they really were the “good’” guys, then at most, Ruggiero might grumble but otherwise wouldn’t do anything about it except berate him for his lack of trust.
Returning to his seat on the corner of the bed, Paul made himself comfortable and grabbed his talisman from the nightstand.
Closing his eyes, he muttered, “In the name of Sam Spade, Columbo, and Scooby-Doo, may there be a very small portal, one end a foot in front of my face, and the other on the side of the street opposite this house.”
With some twiddling of his fingers, Paul adjusted the size of the portal and moved the other end to get a straight-on shot of the library window.
“Let’s see now. In the names of Sir Isaac Newton, James Maxwell, and Zefram Cochrane, let there be an infrared CO2 laser beam emitted through this hole straight at the lower left quadrant of the library window pane, reflecting back through this portal, and let the sound vibrations from the reflected beam be audible to me.”
“There!” he smirked. “Now a few more adjustments....”
For a minute, Paul tweaked the position of the portal, the aim and center frequency of the laser, and the audio conversion settings. The frequency of the laser was in the low infrared band and well outside the visible light spectrum, making it highly unlikely that anyone in the library would see it.
At first, he could hear nothing with his spell. Then a growing murmur of voices could be sensed, but the words were scrambled and completely unintelligible.
Paul twitched his fingers, adjusting the flow of sounds. Quite suddenly, the voices became crystal clear.
“You were gone too long, my love,” Celeste’s voice whispered, ardor dripping from every word.
“I have missed you as well,” Ruggiero muttered affectionately.
Paul heard kissing. Oh, this was too much! He started to close the portal.
“Duncan, tell me true,” Celeste quietly said, “now that you have met Paul, what do you think of him?”
“You like him, don’t you?” Ruggiero asked, answering her question with a question.
Paul’s hand froze in mid-wave, and he leaned closer to the portal to hear her reply.
“He’s sweet, humble,” she replied softly.
“And gullible and naïve?”
Ruggiero’s voice added.
“Yes, those too,” she acknowledged readily enough.
“He’s developing a crush on you,” Ruggiero observed.
“I noticed,” Celeste willingly admitted. “But he’ll get over it.”
Paul’s shoulders slumped, his face going slack. Well, he had asked for it by eavesdropping on their conversation. He was almost tempted to end the spell, but he hesitated.
“I disagree with your assessment of his character,” Ruggiero said. “Would you like to hear my reasons why?”
“Yes, of course.”
Paul heard a rustling noise that sounded like the movement of clothing.
“Let’s put aside the fact that he is supposedly the first new wizard in over four hundred years,” the doctor began. “Instead, let us consider the tale he told us. First, he claims to have given a genie two of his wishes. How wonderfully generous of him to do so.” Ruggiero’s sarcasm reflected his disbelief. “Though I can’t imagine anyone on Earth being quite that foolish. Second, he claims that he received his powers from that same genie. I checked. It’s never happened before in recorded history, a genie bestowing magical powers on a Normie, not once. Third, where is this supposed genie-turned-wizard? Where did he go? There have been no accounts, no rumors of such a personage.”
The wizard sighed heavily. “Fourth, there is the talisman Paul is carrying that he claims to have made without any assistance from anyone else. It’s good. Too good for someone who has had no training in how to construct one, let alone someone who has only exercised magical powers for two days. And then there is item number five, that business about escaping the Oni by letting his molecules fall through the earth. That, my love, is sheer nonsense. I’ve never heard of a spell like that, have you? No, I thought not. Yes, modern science has proven that matter is composed of atoms and molecules, but they are all linked closely together. Matter is solid.” And Paul heard a thump as Ruggiero smacked something hard, possibly a table or a desk. “You know as well as I do that if any two objects tried to occupy the same space at the same time, there would be a very large explosion. If Mr. Armstead had really tried to do that, there would likely be a hefty sized hole in the ground and he would not be walking around afterward.
Genie and Engineer 1: The Engineer Wizard Page 14