“Ooh,” she muttered grimly while staring at the ground. “Of course they will do that. I don’t…I just… Oh, felgercarb!” she barked, using an expletive from the TV series Battlestar Galactica. “I can’t live without you! Who will watch over you? Of course I am going with you!” she declared sternly, sitting straighter in her chair, pulling him closer to her. “What do we have to do first?”
“Pack,” Paul responded, his heart firmly beating again, the ghost of a smile on his face. For a moment there…. But no, she had just needed a few moments to come to grips with the changed situation and to make her decision. He wasn’t sure that he could have done as well if the situation were reversed.
Paul glanced around at all of her belongings. “I am sure that when Errabêlu gets their act together, this is one of the first places they will look for me. So we can’t stay here long at all. Only long enough for you to get your most valuable possessions and even then only if they are small and lightweight. Mementos, souvenirs, a small selection of clothes and whatever. And your manual wheelchair, of course, not the electric one. Start making a mental list right now. Keep it short. We don’t want to be here when they arrive.”
Capie’s blood drained from her face. “I have to make choices? Right now? How much time do I have?”
Paul carefully considered her question. “To be on the safe side, maybe half an hour.”
She was aghast. “But all my books! My videos! There is no way!”
He turned to her. “I had to leave my entire DVD and Blu-ray collection along with all my books in California. And I still haven’t finished David Weber’s latest Honor Harrington book!”
Horrified, Capie glanced around the room. “A half hour?”
“Hurry, dear,” Paul urged her. “Oh, and you will need to pack a suitcase or two, like for a long trip. Let me get a box of plastic bags and your suitcases while you start on your list. Oh, and turn your cell phone off. We don’t want anyone to track you through it.”
In short order, Capie pointed out a very long list of clothing, knick-knacks, souvenirs, and other personal belongings, including Patches. At first, Paul argued with her, trying to explain that for one thing he didn’t have the power to move all her personal belongings.
“We just can’t take all this stuff right now! It’s just too much mass!”
She shot him a long look.
Trying to jostle her into a better mood, he tried a quote on her. “‘But not having enough power to reach far places! Yes, Zathras understand. Everyone always coming to Zathras with problems. Big responsibility but Zathras does not mind. Zathras trained in crisis management.’”
In spite of herself, Capie grinned. “Babylon 5, ‘Conflicts of Interest.’ Great episode. But this isn’t the time to tease me about my luggage!”
In desperation, Paul turned to Jaret. “I’m going to need your help.”
The other wizard smiled. “In this situation, you have it. My mother was the same way about her things too.”
“Thanks, Jaret,” Paul nodded with a grateful smile. “I know a place where you can help me temporarily put all this stuff for safe-keeping and it’s only a couple of miles from here. Even Patches will be safe.”
They worked like mad. An hour and a half later, after making a fairly sizeable dent in her belongings, Capie finally relented to pleas for her to stop.
She gave Paul a sad smile. “Is there time to go see my father next? Do we have time to explain to him what is going on?”
Considering her question took only a few seconds. “We can’t tell him any of the details of The Plan,” Paul told her. “The less he knows the less that they can worm out of him later. And you’re right. If we go to see him at all, now is the time, before the Army, FBI and whoever else recovers from the surprise of my escape. After that, your father will be closely watched, in case we try to contact him again.”
“What plan is this?” Jaret asked. “Am I missing something?”
“Yes,” Paul replied. “It’s all part of that long story I can’t explain yet.”
“He’s not in Wisconsin right now,” Capie explained. “He’s at the Adler Planetarium in Chicago helping a group of grad students prepare a display.”
“I have done a little checking,” Jaret said to Paul. “As best I can tell, there are no other wizards in detectable range. So, if we are careful with our spells, we should be able to go see her father in this city as long as our portal jumps are short ones.”
“Let’s go then,” Paul urged them, feeling the urgency of the situation. With a wave of his hand, Capie’s three suitcases lined up and stood at attention. “We’ve spent way too much time here.”
Jaret held up a hand. “Before we go, there is something else I must tell you.”
Paul took a calming breath. “Please make it fast.”
“The same rules apply, as before,” the ex-genie said, with a half-smile. “Everything you do must appear to have been done by you without any help from me. The other wizards of the world must not know I am here. If things get dangerous, if it looks like they are closing in on you, I won’t be able to help you. Do you understand?”
Capie blinked several times. “Why can’t you help?”
“Long story,” the two men told her in unison.
Paul created a new portal.
• • • •
With three people involved and three heavy suitcases, Paul was anxious to keep his portal energies low. Therefore he limited the jumps to a mile or so at a time. After several such jumps in as many minutes, they navigated from Wheaton down to the lake front. They emerged from the last portal at the foot of the sweep of concrete steps leading up to the front entrance of the domed structure of the Adler Planetarium.
Paul took a moment to visually sweep the area. The sun was setting to the west, daylight failing fast. The parking lot was nearly empty and only a handful of people could be seen at all. None of them were even remotely near the Planetarium.
Paul glanced over at Capie. “We must make this visit with your father as short as possible. Our lives are at stake here.”
She quickly nodded, her eyes also studying the area around them. “I understand.”
It was obvious to all three of them that the Planetarium was closed for the day. But Capie quickly spotted a lone figure more than two hundred feet away, off towards the west and down the parking median. Framed against the setting sun to the west, the silhouette was facing away from the Planetarium, one arm to his right ear.
“That’s him!” she said, a little surprised to see that her father wasn’t inside the building.
She turned her wheelchair around and started moving in that direction, crossing the U shaped asphalt road to the concrete median on the other side. Paul and Jaret had to step lively to keep up with her. The luggage followed along smartly in their wake.
“Let me do all the talking, okay?” she said in that matter of fact tone that said she meant business. “This is going to take a lot of explaining, even with a few magic spells from both of you to prove you are really wizards.”
But the movement of the figure on the sidewalk suggested to Paul that the professor was having a very energetic phone conversation with someone. The professor was hunched forward, making wild sweeping arm gestures and practically stomping his feet. And even though they could not hear what was being said at that distance, they could hear him shouting. His anger was self-evident. So, with only a moment’s hesitation, Paul cast a spell to open a small audio portal to the man.
“…it’s my daughter that’s in danger here, Connor!” snarled Chris Kingsley’s voice clearly and with great vehemence.
Capie froze, her wheelchair coming to a sudden stop. Her eyes opened wide in surprise.
“You need to tell your contacts in Washington that I expect immediate action!” Kingsley roared. There was a pause. “I won’t have that murdering lunatic anywhere near my daughter, do you hear me? Catch him! Do whatever it takes! Use deadly force, if need be, but I want my daughter pro
tected!” Another pause. “You tell me that the Feds successfully caught Paul Armstead but then they let him escape! So help me, Connor, I swear if anything happens to my daughter, I will wring your scrawny little neck!”
And then he slapped his phone hard, hanging up.
Paul quickly glanced at Capie, to see how she was taking this sudden revelation. And it wasn’t hard to see the storm clouds building in her expression.
“Capie?” he said softly. “Don’t say or do anything….”
But she was focused on her father and with deft control of the wheelchair, she was shooting forward at high speed, quickly closing the gap with him.
“Dad, what’s going on?” Capie screamed and snarled in the same voice. Paul was instantly impressed. Her tone scared him spitless and he wasn’t even the object of her wrath!
Chris spun around, blinked several times and moved toward Capie but stopped when he saw how angry she was.
“Capie!” he cried. “When did you get here? Why haven’t you answered your phone? I was just on my way to find you!” And then he saw Paul and Jaret jogging along behind her and his expression changed from puzzlement at Capie’s sudden presence to one of uneasiness and dread.
“You answer my question first, Dad!” she hotly demanded, the wheelchair screeching to a sudden halt in front of him. “Did you have something to do with Paul’s arrest?”
Her father frowned in puzzlement and glanced over first at Paul and then at Jaret.
“Don’t mind him,” Paul informed the man. “Jaret’s a friend of mine. But please, do answer Capie’s question. I too would like to know the answer.”
“Connor told me that the FBI arrested him earlier today,” Chris admitted. He took a quick look at his daughter. “Honey, I have some bad news about this man. He’s no good. He’s one of the most wanted fugitives in the country. The FBI has been looking for him for nearly a year for murder, extortion and grand theft.” He took Capie’s hand and held it tight, looking down into her frowning face. “I’m going to call the police to arrest him. Honest, honey, I know it hurts but it is the right thing to do. It’s in your best interests, I promise. You don’t want to be married to a man who is going to rot in some Federal prison somewhere.”
Paul saw the light dawn in Capie’s eyes.
“You called the FBI didn’t you, Dad?” she asked accusingly.
Chris’s jaw dropped open but he recovered quickly enough. “Honey, didn’t you hear what I said? He’s a murderer!”
“Did you or did you not call the FBI?” she snapped.
“What difference does it make who called the Feds?” Chris loudly protested. “The man is a murderer! I am glad I called Conner and asked to have this fiend checked out! It’s much better that you know all of this now instead of later! I did that to protect you! And I would do it again in a heartbeat! Don’t you understand?! He’s bad, honey! He’s not the right man for you! I’m saving you from being murdered by this fiend….”
It was obvious that the Professor wasn’t going to let his daughter get another word in edgewise until he had said his piece and convinced her that he was right and she wrong.
But Capie wasn’t going to put up with it. Her face was almost beet red, she was so mad. And with an abrupt jerk forward, she swung her feet free of the footplates and onto the ground and then yanked herself forward.
“…killed two Mexican police officers in cold… Hey, be careful, honey, you’ll fall!”
But she easily managed to get to her feet. “No, I won’t,” she hissed back at him, as she wavered a little back and forth but managed to keep herself vertically stable.
Chris gulped twice, took a small step backward and stared speechlessly at his daughter in total shock.
“Yes, Dad, I can stand now! I can even slowly walk a couple of steps. And do you know who did this for me?! Well, Mr. Smart guy who knows all the answers?! Do you have any idea who gave me my legs back so that I could stand and walk again? No? You don’t have a clue, do you? Well, I’ll tell you! Paul Armstead is that person! My husband to be! He did it! And I’ll love him forever for what he has done for me and for the kind of man he is. So I don’t want to hear you trashing him! DO YOU HEAR ME? If you want to keep me as your daughter, YOU WILL STOP BAD-MOUTHING HIM THIS SECOND! Am I clear on that score?”
Open mouthed, Chris stared at Paul then back to his daughter.
“Honey, I….” he slowly whispered before he lost his voice.
“Yes, Henry Kaufman was an alias!” she charged on. “As you found out. And the government does want him but not because he has committed any crimes. But because he is a wizard. Dad, they have tried to kill him because he has magical powers! Paul, show him what you can do!”
Caught on the spot, Paul blinked several times and gasped.
And just what spell should I use to convince a scientist that I’m a wizard? he silently challenged himself.
Jaret leaned forward and whispered, “I have always found flying pink elephants to be effective in this situation.”
Paul set his jaw and held out both hands a little over a foot apart. With a silent spell, lightning flashed between his fingertips creating a ball of white hot plasma, crackling with energy.
“Not bad,” shrugged Jaret. “But even though we can’t afford to use spells that are too powerful, lest we attract the wrong sort of attention from you know who, we can do better than that. Like this.”
Throwing his arms into a sweeping motion, Jaret turned to his right and uttered a few quiet words. A small ball of mist formed, growing quickly, solidifying into a silver-colored, crafted oil lamp straight out of Arabian Nights, complete with embossed Arabic symbols. A cloud of smoke gushed forth from the spout, rising into the air and forming a fantastically beautiful woman in a rather skimpy costume. Her flaming red hair was done in ponytail fashion, the ponytail flowing around her waist and down one leg.
In the back of his head, Paul could distantly hear the theme song of I Dream of Jennie playing softly in the background. He shook his head at Jaret.
“You’ve got to do better than that, guys!” scoffed Capie in derision. “I’ve seen better magic acts at traveling carnival shows!”
Jaret snorted. “A tough crowd, heh? Very well.” And he swung his arms wider, this time turning to the left.
Another ball of light appeared, this time much larger and many times brighter. It formed in mid-air but floated over to a nearby Ford Expedition parked at the curb. The form solidified into a large white dragon. Paul had to admit that he found the simulacrum to be highly impressive. From the tapered head with its yellow glowing eyes, to the huge swept wings, the taloned feet and the long sinewy tail, the creature exuded the very essence of a solid substantive dragon.
It draped itself across the roof of the Expedition and swung its head in Chris’s direction, blinking at him while exhaling small puffs of grey smoke through its two nostrils. The tail stretched forth, wrapping itself tightly around a parking meter.
“I like the smoke,” Paul declared, hiding a smile behind one hand. “Nice touch. But as you can see, he’s still not convinced.”
A glance at Kingsley’s face confirmed what Paul was saying. Yes, Capie’s father appeared surprised. But suspicion and anger also could be seen mixed in there, too.
“I don’t know what the two of you think you are doing, but you can stop this nonsense right now,” Chris declared with authority and anger. “There is no such thing as magic.”
“Dad!” shouted Capie. “This isn’t smoke and mirrors. We’re in the middle of a parking lot, for crying out loud! How else would you explain this?”
Paul had a sudden inspiration. The way to convince a scientist was with science. Extending both arms wide, Paul said, “In the name of Johannes Kepler, Stephen Hawking and Samantha Carter, may the gravity of this area fall under my control.”
Capie gasped.
Paul tilted his hands and without warning, the ground pitched sideways below their feet.
“What?” shouted
Chris Kingsley, a very startled expression on his face.
The effect was local, only out to a radius of thirty or so feet. The ground continued to tilt, throwing all four people sideways. Chris smashed up against the suitcases, all piled up against the base of the nearby statue of Nicolaus Copernicus. With a loud screeching noise, a large stone planter began sliding across the concrete.
“Paul! Are you nuts?!” screamed Capie as she struggled to stay upright.
“A grand idea!” boomed Jaret as he tilted sideways but kept to his feet. “I wish I’d thought of it.”
And still the gravity continued to twist.
With a spell, Paul reached out and grabbed Capie and they floated and twisted together in the air. The ground was rotating, now forming a wall to their south. Chris Kingsley was hanging onto the statue’s arm and looking positively panicked, almost on the verge of gibbering.
“Okay, I believe you!” he screamed. “I believe you!”
But with a nasty grin, Paul twisted his hands even more.
The sky rotated downward. The wheelchair, suitcases, planter and the professor’s cell phone fell in that direction, the dirt and green shrubs spilling forth from the planter and falling into the twilight lit sky.
Where everything stopped, about fifty feet up (down?) and hovered in one pathetic pile.
Chris was hanging upside down now, locked onto the statue with both hands. Capie stared incredulously at the impossible scene.
“Paul!” she screamed. “Enough! Make it stop!”
Paul felt sorry for his future father-in-law who was gaping past his feet at the open sky, obviously terrified that he might fall into the empty vastness at any moment.
Capie was right. Paul had proved his point. With a twist of his hands, gravity spun again, this time back in the direction of Earth. In only a few seconds, all four of them were back on their feet on ‘solid’ ground again, the suitcases, concrete planter, dirt, bushes, wheelchair and cell phone all floating back to the sidewalk for soft landings.
Chris weakly collapsed to a sitting position on the ground, staring around himself, as if he couldn’t believe the experience he had just lived through.
Genie and Engineer 1: The Engineer Wizard Page 37