“A Very Ambitious Plan,” Capie concluded, covering her mouth to hide a smile. “And just how are you going to build this army of — what do you call them?”
Paul grinned. “Since there is no word in the English language that describes such a device, I have decided to coin a new word. They will be known as SCOTTIEs.”
She blinked in surprise. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Scotty?”
“A Sentient Computerized Optimal Talismanic Theurgical Integrated Engineer. SCOTTIE.”
Capie choked on an abrupt laugh and shook her head. “You really had to reach for that one, didn’t you?”
Paul gave her a smirk. “Perhaps a little. Anyway, to answer your question, I will use the Von Neumann principle. I will build the first one and give it the capability to replicate itself.”
She shivered. “Like the replicators in StarGate SG-1?”
That comparison disturbed him and Paul shuddered at the thought. Hopefully they wouldn’t be replicators. “No, not like them. Mine will be based on human intelligence, not alien devices. And mine will be hard-wired with Asimov’s four laws of robotics.”
“Wait a minute. Four laws? I thought there were only three,” she objected.
“Yes, originally there were only three. But in his book Robots and Empire, Asimov added a fourth law, the zero law, as he called it. ‘A robot may not harm humanity, or by inaction, allow humanity to come to harm.’ Thus it is possible for a robot to harm a human being if doing so benefits all of humanity. Our Scotties will need that law, if they are to fight against the wizards and Oni. Otherwise, they will be incapable of being soldiers.”
“I see you’ve thought this through,” Capie observed with a hint of admiration. “So, you are working on an AI development program. I don’t object to that. I think that’s great. So why do you think that your Plan might scare me into not marrying you?”
Paul sighed, a trifle concerned about the next portion of the discussion. They had reached the part of The Plan that worried him the most, how Capie would react to it. “There is a part of the plan I haven’t explained yet. When we build the Scotties, they will each need a talisman to allow them to use magical powers. And each time a talisman is made—”
“The other wizards will know about it,” Capie concluded for him.
“If it happens on Earth, yes,” Paul added.
“On Earth?” she asked, puzzled. “But where else…oh, my Aunt Ginger!” she said, pulling away from him. “Are you talking about making these on some other planet?”
“On Mars, yes,” Paul confirmed for her. “According to my calculations, at that distance, the wizards on Earth will not be able to detect anything when a talisman is made.”
“Oh! So that means you actually, physically have to go to Mars?”
Paul shrugged. “It is the most earth-like planet in the solar system, other than the Earth itself, of course. And I will find most of the materials necessary for life and for the construction of the Scotties there. It’s the right choice.”
“How long will this take?” she asked, anguish in her voice.
With a sigh, Paul grabbed another root beer and popped the top. He sipped it before answering her question.
“A lot depends on the technical hurdles. It could be as little as four months though I think that unduly optimistic. It might take as much as nine months but my best guess is about six months.”
“Six months! Away from Earth?” the pain in her voice was plainly evident.
“That’s the worst part of The Plan,” Paul grudgingly conceded. “But totally necessary. I can’t build the Scotties on Earth, assuming it’s possible to build them at all.”
“I…am going to have to think about this,” she responded. “Six months away from Earth, living on an alien planet? It’s a lot to ask.”
“Which is why I am telling you now and not later.” Paul could see that the mood of the evening was now ruined. Just great. He sincerely hoped that it didn’t go beyond that. He suddenly realized that he just might have talked her out of marrying him after all. His humor plummeted and Paul no longer felt hungry.
“Capie, I’ll call you in the morning. Think about it. Take all the time you need.” He hugged her quickly and then got to his feet. “I’ll put the pizza in the fridge for you. I’ll see you soon. Good night.”
• • • •
On Saturday morning, Paul called her.
“Good morning, sunshine. How are things?” he asked her, with both optimism and a twinge of fear in his voice. On such a beautiful morning, Paul was feeling a little more confident than he had the previous evening, after leaving Capie’s house. Yes, he was still anxious about her reactions to The Plan but he wasn’t going to borrow trouble if he could avoid it.
“They’re better now but it was a rough night, tossing and turning. Can you come over this morning?” she guardedly asked.
“Yes, if that is okay with you,” Paul replied, relieved that he was not persona non grata at her residence.
“Yes, please. There are things we need to discuss.”
He drove over to her house, arriving fifteen minutes later. She answered the front door when he rang the bell.
When they reached the living room, she said, “I need a hug, please.”
Paul dropped to his knees and hugged her. It was a trifle uncomfortable to do so with her sitting in her wheelchair but they managed.
Capie leaned back, away from him, a very sad expression on her face. “I’ve made a decision.”
He stood up and steeled himself for the worst possible news. “And?”
She nodded slowly. “Do you know that song sung by the group Heart? Magic Man?”
“Yes, I’ve heard it. Is that your answer?”
“Yes, that’s my answer.” She looked up, her eyes watering. “You are the Magic Man. Wherever you go, I will go too.”
He dropped back down to his knees and hugged her again, this time much harder.
“We won’t stay a minute longer than necessary,” he faithfully promised her.
After he released her, he sat back on his haunches and smiled at her.
“Have you had breakfast yet?” Paul asked her.
“Just toast and orange juice,” Capie answered. “I’m too nervous for anything else. Are you planning to give me magical powers now? Will this hurt?”
“Not a bit. But it will drain you. You’ll sleep for at least a day, perhaps longer,” Paul quietly reassured her. “Now, there is one more thing I need, before we start. I need your solemn vow that you will not misuse these powers, once you have them, and that you won’t use them to kill anyone. Can you make that vow?”
“I will gladly make that vow. I do so promise, cross my heart,” she said with fervor.
He smiled and gripped her hand. “That’s my girl. Where would you like to do this?”
“In the bedroom, if you please,” Capie said, her face slightly flushed.
She rolled herself back to the bedroom while he followed. For the most part, it was a typical master bedroom with a queen sized bed, two sets of dressers, a large walk-in closet and another door leading to the master bathroom. Paul could see her feminine touch in all the furnishings, pictures and knick-knacks. This room, however, was also furnished with several devices for the handicapped, including hand supports mounted in strategic locations. There was one such set on the side of her bed, to assist her in getting in and out.
When Capie started to leverage herself from the wheelchair, Paul interrupted.
“Please, let me help,” he graciously offered.
“Okay.”
He twitched his fingers and she rose slowly into the air.
“Ooh, I’m flying!” she said with a smile. “I’ve always wanted to do this.”
Paul turned her around and sat her down in the middle of the bed where she laid herself out flat, head on her pillow.
“I’m ready,” Capie said, teeth clinched, her body as tense as steel springs.
The words the genie used
returned to Paul’s mind.
He filled his voice with confidence, in order to reassure her. “Now clear your mind. Shortly, you will fall asleep. When you awaken, you will have the powers of a wizard and you will find ways to use those powers. This is your last chance to change your mind and go back to a normal life. What do you say?”
“Please continue,” Capie replied, her voice quavering in excitement.
“Very well. May you from hence forth have the ability to shape reality to your will. May you be master of time and space and have the power to bend the laws of nature to suit your needs. So it is said, so let it be!”
Paul waited for her to fall asleep but instead, she lay there with her eyes open.
“How long does this take before I feel anything?” she asked, uncertainly.
Frowning in sudden dismay, he looked at her. “You don’t feel anything at all?”
“No, I don’t.” Capie raised her head and studied his frowning face.
“Merlin?” Paul asked, abruptly apprehensive, his confident manner having fled for parts unknown.
The wizard from the Middle Ages popped into the room at the foot of the bed.
“Hmm,” he said, hand on his chin and fingertip to his lips. “I was afraid of something like this.”
“You were?” Paul asked him anxiously. “And you didn’t say anything?”
He shrugged. “In my day, we couldn’t just give magical powers to another person. It didn’t work that way or otherwise there would be a lot more wizards wandering around on the loose. But that was in my day. Since the genie gave you magical powers, I thought maybe that had changed. But apparently not.”
Paul blinked. “You mean I can’t give her magical powers after all?”
“You can try again, if you wish,” Merlin said with a soft, sad sigh. “But I don’t think so.”
Capie was on the verge of tears. Deeply shaken, Paul sat on the edge of the bed and gathered her in his arms.
“I’m so sorry, Capie!” he earnestly apologized, his stomach churning nauseously. “I didn’t know. I swear to you that we will find a way!”
“I’ve had so many disappointments,” she pitifully mumbled. “So many! I was so looking forward to being a wizard.” She paused, her face scrunched in pain. “I guess that means the marriage is off now, right?”
He gripped Capie tighter. “Not on your life!” he growled. “This isn’t over, not by a long-shot. If the genie can give me my powers, then there must be a way to give you magical powers, too. I’ll find that way. In the meantime, we are going to cure your spinal cord injuries.”
She pulled back from him. “How are you going to do that?” she asked skeptically, studying his face intently.
Paul smiled reassuringly at her, feigning a confidence he didn’t feel at all. “I can use my magical powers to slowly remove the scar from your spinal cord and to re-grow the nerve tissue. It should only take a month or so to do and, in the meantime, it means I will have to spend more time with you.” He kept to himself the fact that he had already been performing that very same magical task on her for over a month. Best not to confuse the issue, at this point. Instead, he stretched out a hand to cup the side of her face. “That doesn’t sound so bad, does it?”
She bravely smiled but he could see how disappointed she was not to be a wizard. It crushed his heart, too.
THIRTY TWO
Naperville, Illinois
East Bauer Road
Two bedroom rental house
May
Monday 12:42 p.m. CST
As the days sped by, Capie reported more and more physical sensations below her waist. By way of Igor, Paul’s magic spells were having a slow but steadily positive effect on her, curing her spinal cord injury a degree at a time. In the past couple of days, she was even able to actually ‘move’ her legs and feet. Mostly, she just made them twitch but it was promising. And whenever Paul was in her presence, he cast a spell to help her brain more rapidly learn the new neural pathways to control her muscles.
Capie was ecstatic with the results so far and looked forward to further progress. And Paul too was thrilled that the idea was actually working. Well, to tell the truth, he was really insufferably pleased with himself! And even though he was a little hard to live with, Capie managed to endure his smugness. Thank God it finally wore off, before anyone actually told him to go stuff himself.
They were also spending more and more time together, working on wedding preparations. It was beginning to take on the dimensions of that Steve Martin movie, Father of the Bride. Paul had always thought that movie to be funny — until he now found himself to be in the center of the action.
During the weekdays, when Capie was at work, Paul concentrated on the Master Plan. Half the time he spent down at the lake front, monitoring the conversion process of the beryllium isotopes in the emerald from 9Be to 10Be. The other half of the time, he worked on the AI project.
Paul grinned mischievously every time he thought about creating his second talisman. All the equations told him how potent it would be and he was so looking forward to using that much power.
• • • •
On Thursday, after spending the morning working on the development of the AI program, Paul took a short break for lunch. Then he got back to work, diving into the subtleties of one of the more difficult of the subroutines. His intention was to work a few more hours and then stop at 5 p.m. That would allow him a few minutes to change clothes and drive over to Capie’s house in time to help her prepare a cozy dinner for the two of them at her home. His plan was to spend most of the evening with her.
Another month to go until the wedding. In some ways, it seemed a lifetime away and he was impatient for it to happen. The image of them standing at the altar, of hearing Capie say “I do” and then going away on a honeymoon thrilled him. He had such plans for where they would go, the places in the world that they would visit and the things that they would see and do! His spine tingled every time he thought about it.
The door bell rang, interrupting his thoughts.
He looked up and blinked.
Paul had been surprised after moving to this house how many times a week that someone came to the front door. Mostly, it was door-to-door salesmen trying to sell some product and/or service. They were indeed the most obnoxious of his visitors. However, there were others too such as representatives of the local churches, fund raisers for various organizations, Girl Scouts selling cookies, local political candidates seeking re-election, and various and sundry other individuals. The oddest one of the bunch had been a man claiming to be a direct descendent of Pecos Bill who was asking people to sign a petition that would outlaw automobiles in favor of horses. That nut had wasted an hour of Paul’s precious time with his nonsense!
After that, Paul had consulted with Merlin, done the research, gathered the necessary materials and then cast a warding spell on the front door.
The front door now displayed the image of a “door greeter,” an imaginary personality that would magically converse with and determine what sort of person was ringing the doorbell and what they wanted. Under the right circumstances (which was most of the time), the warding spell would then discourage the visitor and send him/her on their way. The door greeter’s image depended on the nature of the visitor. Most of the time, the personality was an extremely ugly, old, crossed-eyed man with a lower lip that covered the end of his huge nose, warts on his face and a voice that screeched like fingernails on a blackboard.
The door greeter was not a new idea. Paul was borrowing the concept from The Christmas Carol and The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, among other sources. And so far the warding spell was very successful. Most of the time, Paul never even heard the doorbell ring since the spell was geared to silence the doorbell unless the visitor was someone Paul wanted to see — such as a U.S. Postman, a delivery person, a policeman or a neighbor. In other words, someone who had a legitimate reason to ring the bell.
And since on this occasion the
spell was allowing Paul to hear the doorbell, it meant that the warding spell ‘thought’ that he would probably have to personally deal with the caller this time.
But then, to Paul’s surprise, he heard the warding spell speak.
“Yes, and what is it you want?” it demanded to know.
“What the…?” asked a surprise voice, transmitted through the door by the warding spell. “Is this a joke of some kind? Who in blazes are you?”
“I’m the person answering the door, bonehead,” the greeter responded. “Answer the question. What do you want?”
“Special Delivery,” Paul heard the man’s irritated voice answer.
“I don’t see no package,” the warding spell answer.
“Look, I don’t have time for games! I need a signature here! Open the door!”
“Let me see some ID!” the door greeter demanded.
“Open the door!” the voice demanded. “I need to see the guy who lives here!”
Then the greeter’s voice changed, dropping into a menacing tone. “You’re not a delivery man. You’re a liar. I’m monitoring your pulse rate, blood pressure, breathing, galvanic skin response and brain wave patterns,” the door greeter’s voice said, its voice dripping with contempt. “And I have no trouble seeing that .40 caliber Glock 22 Gen 4 in your shoulder harness under your coat, nor the two extra clips of ammo in your jacket pocket, or the metal badge in your shirt pocket that says FBI!”
Paul’s heart skipped a beat. The authorities had found him.
There was a pause at the door and then the man at the door yelled, “Paul Armstead, we know that you are in there. We have Capie in custody! If you don’t come out in thirty seconds, I can’t promise your fiancée’s safety!” barked the voice. “Don’t leave! Surrender now and she won’t be hurt!”
Genie and Engineer 1: The Engineer Wizard Page 34