Paul was greatly upset by Ruggiero’s argument. It sounded like something out of a James Bond flick. The megalomaniac genius claiming to save Earth by destroying it.
“We’re not finished yet,” the wizard continued, waving his arms heavenward, unfazed by Paul’s horrified expression. “There is more to do. In the last 150 years, we have made so much progress. Join us, Mr. Armstead. Join us and be a part of the future! Join us, and you can make humanity even more powerful.”
Unbidden, a quote came to Paul’s mind. “‘Improve a mechanical device and you may double productivity. But improve man, you gain a thousand-fold,’” Paul murmured sadly, quoting Khan Noonien Singh from Star Trek.
“Heh?” his captor asked, turning back to face him with a puzzled look. “What did you say?”
As his heart skipped a beat in trepidation, Paul made himself focus on the water hose, the one with which the Oni had sluiced him down. They had coiled it up next to the faucet, which was mounted a foot off the ground in a nearby wall, a dozen or so feet away. The hose was still wet, especially near the nozzle.
It was time to end this discussion, time to try his very desperate plan.
Puzzled, Ruggiero looked at Paul, then at the hose. “Are you thirsty, Mr. Armstead?” Then the evil wizard watched, startled, as the end of the hose began to glow.
Paul dropped to the ground. Both of the Oni observed him, blinking in surprise.
Ruggiero stared without comprehension at the hose. “What the...?”
• • • •
There was more than enough water on the outside of the hose to serve Paul’s purposes. Good ole di-hydrogen oxide, otherwise known as H2O.
Without his talisman (or the one held by Ruggiero, which would be blocked from his usage by one of the Errabêlu wizard’s spells), Paul had very little power to work with. But according to Einstein’s calculations, he had just enough power for this task even without a talisman.
With his spell, the molecules in four drops of water on the hose were locked into a sphere of force. Those four drops contained six sextillion molecules of H2O, which in turn contained two quintillion atoms of deuterium (a rare isotope of hydrogen; of the hydrogen atoms on Earth, only one in 6,410 were deuterium). With a burst of additional magical energy, the covalent bonds between the oxygen and deuterium atoms were shattered, thrusting the oxygen away and shoving the deuterium atoms into a tighter grouping.
Then there was a third tiny burst of magical energy, and the electrons of the deuterium atoms were knocked out of their “orbits” and temporarily forced within the boundaries of their respective nuclei and held there by Paul’s spell—a necessary step in order to make the deuterium nuclei neutral in terms of an electrical charge. Under normal circumstances, Coulombs law would have kept the deuterium atoms apart, the electrostatic interaction between similar positive charges acting as a repulsive force. Not this time, however, with the neutralization of charges, there was nothing to keep the deuterium nuclei apart and yet another small spell from Paul began squeezing the nuclei closer together in pairs.
Until each pair were within only a few diameters from each other. Then the strong nuclear force took over, pulling the nuclei together in groups of two, a cascade of fusion that turned the two protons and two neutrons of each pair of deuterium nuclei into a single helium nucleus—minus a tiny 0.64% of their original mass.
By Einstein’s law, that tiny loss of mass became energy, a considerable quantity of energy, far more than Paul had used to force the deuterium nuclei together. And with all the deuterium nuclei involved from those four drops of water, the energy produced was enough to equal two sticks of dynamite.
• • • •
The explosion instantly vaporized the hose and its contents, the shock wave blasting past Ruggiero and the two Oni, the detonation knocking them off their feet and hurling them to the ground.
Frantically, Paul rolled over on the dirt floor. It wouldn’t take long for the Oni to recover their senses. Even if they were wounded, they were still dangerous.
He scrambled closer to Ruggiero, grabbed the man’s talisman, and yanked on it hard, ripping it from his belt. Then he flung it through the air, where it landed next to the mangled remains of the hose and the now-spewing water geyser shooting forth from the missing faucet.
Ruggiero struggled to get to his feet. “My talisman!” he screamed hysterically.
In a mere second, Paul mentally gathered together some of the water molecules on the wet surface of the talisman, squeezing them together, setting up a repeat of his earlier spells.
The Oni were jumping to their feet, roaring in anger. With a mental stab, Paul pushed the deuterium nuclei together.
Another explosion ripped through the air, shattering the talisman, sending pieces of it flying like shrapnel, shredding everything in its path. The two Oni fell again, this time both seriously wounded.
A piece of the talisman ricocheted off the wall of the nearest stall and came to rest in the dirt less than two feet away from Paul, smoking hot. He scurried madly over to it, grasping it with his right hand, and it immediately began to burn his palm.
Ah, but now, the spell that had protected the talisman from Paul was no longer effective since the talisman was in pieces. In an instant, he cast a spell that reduced the temperature of the fragment to normal.
And a split second after that, he opened a portal and rolled through it. And because he had learned a lot about magical powers as a prisoner, this time, he didn’t even have to use an incantation to create the spell.
• • • •
The portal took Paul to Capbreton, France, specifically to the green of the second hole of the Golf d’Hossegor, a large golf course just northeast of the city. He merrily rolled out into the middle of the soft green grass, free at last from his captors. As soon as the portal snapped closed, he gleefully created another one in the exact same spot and rolled right through it—
—along a thick bed of grass into the base of the stone wall of the Tour Moncade in Orthez, France. The stone keep, part of the remains of the castle Chateau Moncade, towered above him, the top of the building thrusting into a clear blue sky. From nearby, he heard shouting, but he ignored it as he cackled with nervous delight, created another portal where the old one had been, and rolled through it—
—onto the gritty asphalt parking lot in front of the Notre Dame Cathedral in Dax, France. The twin towers of the church building, high over the arched double wooden doors marking the entrance, were impressive, even with Paul’s limited knowledge of architecture.
Several people were scattered around the entrance—men in suits and women in long dresses—staring at him in stunned surprise. They were either on their way to a church meeting or just getting out of one. But it was of no importance, so again, with a profound sense of relief and mirth, Paul cast a spell, and another portal appeared—
—dropping him onto the soft sandy beach of Saint-Jean-de-Luz. This time, there were only two women and an elderly man nearby to notice his abrupt arrival, though there were lots of other people visible in the distance. The three French watched him in shock as he climbed to his feet, roaring with laughter. He shook the small piece of talisman at the sky and then pointed it out to sea and concentrated. Still cackling wildly, Paul formed another portal leading further down the coast of Biscay Bay, to an isolated stretch of rocky coastline near Akarteg, Spain. Then, a foot beyond that portal, Paul formed another portal, leading ten more miles further along the coastline. Not finished, Paul did it again for a third time, out yet another ten miles, this time all the way to the stone pier on the southern tip of Santa Clara Island in the Bahia of La Concha, across the small bay from the city of San Sebastian, Spain. With sweat streaming from his brow, Paul created a ball of water two feet in diameter from the surf water beside him, floated it into the air, and then heaved it hard through the first portal where it cascaded through the second and then the third. With a snap of his fingers, all three of the portals instantly clapped s
hut.
Still grinning fiercely, Paul turned to face the three people and bowed twice. They smiled back and clapped their hands in appreciation, entertained by the show he had put on. He bowed again and hysterically waved his hand at them before he turned and created yet another portal for him to duck through.
SIXTEEN
Pyrenees Mountains
2.4 miles east of Isaba, Spain
January
Sunday, 9:45 a.m. CET
Paul steadily, but slowly pushed his way up the rocky slope, toward the escarpment of Ibon de Ezcaurre, the westernmost part of the Aragonese Pyrenees, part of a natural border separating Spain from France. He was above the tree line now, more than 5,000 feet above sea level. Just ahead were some really lovely specimens of granite rock. True, they were not as large as the house-sized boulders he had found in the Himalayas. But they were still large enough to command a great deal of magical power.
Physically, he was tired. Emotionally, he was drained. Confined as he had been for a week, his stamina was not up to a hike up a mountainside. The thrill of his escape had worn off now, leaving him with a growing awareness that he was a hunted man, on the run. And his hunters were evil wizards. Who knew what their full capabilities were? Just how safe was he, and how long could he avoid being recaptured?
He had planned his escape carefully. Judging from everything Merlin had told him as a prisoner, Ruggiero and Celeste would have a very hard time finding his current whereabouts. So he should be fairly safe. Well, on second thought, maybe he should confirm that.
“Join me for a walk, Merlin?” Paul suggested, huffing and puffing a bit.
Merlin popped up out of thin air, floating along beside Paul, casting his eyes around him, scowling at everything in sight, and then back at Paul.
“Funny, but you don’t strike me as the mountaineering type,” he observed sarcastically.
Paul ignored the jibe but stopped to catch his breath. “Okay, Merlin. My escape back there. How good was it?” he asked, curiously soliciting the man’s opinion.
“Not bad,” the timeless wizard replied promptly. “Seven sequential jumps with the portals overlapping each other. Fairly short jumps as well. And that false trail down the Spanish coastline was a nice touch. It will take the Oni a few minutes to recover before they can even start chasing you. They will not be able to track your portals this time, because of the overlap and because you adequately disguised them. However, depending on resources and their organization, it might take them only a day, but not more than two days, before they track you here.”
Paul was disappointed, tugging on one earlobe and casting his eyes downward. “Eh? How will they...oh, this piece of talisman? You’re telling me that they can track this?” He nodded to the small crystal in the palm of his hand.
Merlin sighed. “It’s my fault. There is more that I need to tell you about the tracking methods used by wizards.”
“Pray, do tell,” Paul replied sarcastically, no longer feeling quite so pleased with his escape and even more apprehensive about his safety. With a glance uphill, he resumed his climb. “Please, start talking.”
Merlin floated along with him. “Think submarine warfare. There are two methods available. Passive and active. Normally, two opposing submarines listen for each other in passive mode. Whichever side has the best listening gear and makes the least amount of noise usually finds his opponent first. In a real shooting war, he who first sees his opponent wins.”
Paul nodded as the implications rang home. “You are saying the Oni use passive mode searching so that they don’t give themselves away while conducting a search.”
“Precisely,” Merlin replied, walking around an outcropping as they climbed. “The gemstone that Celeste told you about does not emit any magical energy. It simply senses and measures any energy of a wizard’s spell. You’ve already seen that a gemstone can track the portals of a wizard, but it detects other spells too. Let’s use this situation as an example. The Oni could start at the last known portal location you used, perhaps in Saint-Jean-de-Luz, and then spiral out in widening circles, using the gemstone to detect the use of any magical energy generated. The more energy you use and the more often you use it greatly increases the chances of them finding you.”
An Iberian wild goat perched on a ledge over their heads bleated at them. Paul glanced up as the creature clattered away.
“Give me some numbers, Merlin,” he requested, determined to get the complete picture of his situation. “Let’s say that I didn’t cast any spells at all. How close would they have to be to detect me?”
“Assuming they didn’t recognize you on sight, and assuming you were using no magical spells at all, they could stand within arm’s reach of you without knowing you were a wizard. Unless they touched you, and yes, I am referring to skin-on-skin contact. Then they would know.”
Paul nodded pensively. “Yes, Celeste and Ruggiero both touched me and knew how powerful a wizard I was.” After a little more thought, he asked, “So, when the Oni make a passive search, they are assuming I am using magic at some level, else they would have to touch every person in the area.”
“That’s correct,” Merlin affirmed.
“It would take them some time to cover these mountains with a passive search,” Paul remarked slowly, still thinking Merlin’s information through. “How much magic could I use without such a search finding me?”
Merlin shrugged. “It depends on luck and the power of the spells you use. You could use any spell within the confines of your body, such as the healing spell you used on your arm, and escape notice. Anything outside of your body and you run a risk.”
Paul nibbled a little on his lower lip. “Okay, what’s this active scanning you mentioned? Is that like active sonar?”
“Similar, yes. A wizard can use his talisman to send out a pulse of magical energy and then listen for a response. Based on the type of reflection and the time interval between sending and receiving it, the wizard can find items of magical power, such as a talisman. It doesn’t work for detecting wizards. Now, that piece of talisman you have can be used as a homing beacon since Ruggiero will know its magical signature, and he will be able to find it even if it is currently in rugged, isolated country.”
“So, I need to get rid of it as soon as possible,” mused Paul. “Well, as soon as I reach a decently sized boulder, I’ll do that.” He paused for a moment, taking a better look at the face of the cliff now facing him. “Yes, and I think we’ll try that one first.”
The boulder in question, almost pure granite in composition, massed nearly six tons. Paul laid his hand on its cold, gritty surface and was reassured by the power available.
With a nod of his head, he opened a small portal to the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, more than two thousand miles to the west.
“Ah, may I make a suggestion?” Merlin asked, interrupting Paul before he could send the chunk of talisman through.
“You disapprove of something?” Paul responded with a questioning look.
“Not out at sea,” Merlin said with a small shake of his head. “Ruggiero will instantly know that you dumped it there. But if you are careful of where you send it, he might actually waste time retrieving it and doing a search of the area as well, just to make sure that you aren’t somewhere in the vicinity.”
“Good idea,” Paul nodded in appreciation. “Let’s see.” With a thought, he created a display in midair, showing a map of the western Mediterranean area. A twitch of his pinky caused the map to zoom in to Spain.
“Madrid would be a good place, I think,” Paul remarked with an evil smile. “Ruggiero could waste a lot of time searching a city of that size. I’ll just drop this rock...yes, in a trash bin...ah, along the Paseo de Uruguay! Good spot! Almost dead center of the city! Let him spin his wheels searching for me there!”
With the talisman fragment now disposed of, Paul closed the small portal and moved on to a more important issue.
Where would he go? To one of the Americ
an consulates in Europe? But then what would he tell them? That he had escaped captivity from an evil magical wizard? Yeah, right.
Since he had no money, no passport, no identification, no food, and no adequate clothing, (not to mention he also didn’t know a single soul in all of Europe), his best bet was to just get out of Dodge as fast as possible.
Stretching forth his hand, he touched the boulder in front of him again, intending to creating a portal that would take him directly to his home in Mojave.
But he hesitated.
“Merlin? A portal from here to California? Could they detect that?” he asked with a frown, taking a small step backward.
“From here? Easily,” Merlin declared with a malicious grin. “That would use a lot of energy. I don’t recommend it.”
“Even if I disguise the energies involved?”
“It’s far too much energy to disguise with the techniques I showed you,” Merlin assured him.
Paul lowered his hand and considered his alternatives. If he still had his talisman, he could have made smaller jumps, each one using a much smaller packet of energy and therefore being easier to hide from detection. Then he frowned. To keep the energy low enough, his portal hops needed to be short, say 20 miles at a time. He would have had to make hundreds of such jumps to cross the thousands of miles of ocean and the continental United States. He was already fairly tired due to his escape and to the portals he had thus far created that morning. Using short portal hops, he would never have made it ten percent of the way across the Atlantic before exhausting himself, falling into the ocean, and drowning.
It was obvious. Even if he had a talisman, he couldn’t go home using portals.
“Merlin, I need another way home,” he said sadly.
The hologram merely shrugged. “Sorry, not my expertise.”
Paul gave him a startled glance. Was Merlin trying to tell him that he didn’t see a magical solution to this problem either? Or that Paul needed a different sort of super-genius to solve this particular problem? Well, that last possibility was easily tested.
Genie and Engineer 1: The Engineer Wizard Page 17