The Circus Infinitus - Genesis Infinitus

by Ethan Somerville

  “I was talking about the low magic practiced by those charlatans down in the market place – the palm-readers, prestidigitators and spiritualists. No – this is real Magick – an ancient language that can actually control universal forces. Each word is accompanied by a gesture, and when used in twain, can accomplish whatever the heart desires. However, it is a very difficult tongue to master, and what is recorded here is only a small fraction of its entirety.”

  Icarus gaped. Could it be true? He was still young and wanted to believe, but the practicalities of every day were starting to erode his innocence. He could only stare at the strange, alien squiggles in amazement. “But … but where did you go?” he finally managed. “Where was this other world? America?”

  “No, considerably further than that. Another entire planet.”

  “Surely not! To speak of other worlds is heresy!”

  Leonardo shook his head. “Heresy or not, it exists, and I traveled there with a man who called himself Mahatma Morya. It is a world much the same as this one, with the same lands and oceans, people and beasts. But it is also a world of Magick, where this language is spoken by wizards, and inhabited by fantastical creatures such dragons, griffons, elves and dwarves, to name but a few. I saw many such beings during my travels.” He flipped some pages in the book to show Icarus some of his drawings. “I was able to make some studies, but not nearly enough to capture the immense variety of beings.”

  Icarus could only stare at the wild drawings. “These … are real?”

  “As real as we are.”

  Icarus looked up. “Do you know the language?”

  “Some of it. I can perform a few tricks, but as you may have figured out by now, my dear Icarus, I am an inveterate procrastinator. I cannot stay with any one task for too long. I have never been able to progress past the level of Magick known as cantrips.” To demonstrate he lifted his hands, flicked his fingers, and sent purple sparks flashing from his fingertips.

  Icarus jumped, gasping in amazement. “It works!”

  “Of course it works! But you must never ever tell another soul! That’s why I made sure we were both alone first! For it was not long after my return from this Magick Earth that some agents from the church came seeking me.”

  “The church? Why?”

  “At first I believed they were ordinary wandering monks, spreading the word of God, and I allowed them into my house. But they seemed to know that I had been away, and asked some very odd questions about where I had been, and what knowledge I had acquired during my travels. Somehow they knew about the Magick Earth. Fortunately, I had been warned to be discrete. That, coupled my own natural caution, enabled me to spin an elaborate tale about traveling all over Europe without actually lying. I think I managed to fool them, since they have not approached me since. But they could still be watching, and for that reason don’t let them notice you.” Suddenly Leonardo pressed the book into Icarus’ arms. “Read every word. Learn the language. I know you have an aptitude with words. But don’t let anyone find out about it.”

  Icarus’s head spun as he realised the enormity of the task he had been given. To learn a tongue from another world that granted the ability to perform Magick…! “I … I don’t know what to say!” he gasped.

  Leonardo ruffled his hair again. “Start with ‘thank you’!”

  Now Icarus had a new project, but Leonardo’s orders to keep the book secret meant he could only read it when he was sure he was by himself. He picked up the language in dribs and drabs. As Leonardo had predicted, Icarus’ aptitude with words enabled him to master it, but the accompanying hand-gestures made it just that little bit harder. His first attempts at the low-level cantrips resulted in impressive bangs that smelled like sulphur, but little else.

  Sometimes he simply marvelled at the pictures of alien creatures and imagined them in their native habitats. He also found illustrations of bizarre landscapes, weird plants and impossible buildings fashioned by the Masters of Magick. He even found a picture of the mysterious Mahatma Morya, a dark-skinned bearded man in a turban with a friendly, white-toothed smile. But it was towards the back of the book that Icarus found what fascinated him most; drawings of strange machines that Leonardo had made during his travels.

  “What are these?” Icarus asked Leonardo one day when he was sure they were the only ones in the workshop. Even so, Leonardo looked furtively around. He didn’t even want Salai listening in.

  “Those are devices I want you to build. You excelled yourself with the glider – I believe you can manufacture these machines as well.”

  “But they look so complicated – so many moving parts!”

  “All are possible, although the materials required may not be readily available. I will help you acquire as much as I can, but I cannot make any promises.”

  “What do they do? I’m not sure I understand their exact functions.”

  Leonardo smiled. “Many things, but this is the one I’m most interested in.” He pointed to a large, tank-like structure from which many cables ran. Above he had drawn a thundercloud, with a large bolt of lightning lancing down into the contraption. Inside a cut-away section of the drawing hung the figure of a man, chained to a grille suspended in water. “It is the Immortality Machine. The spells to achieve everlasting life are almost impossibly difficult, but I believe this machine will put it within the grasp of more ordinary folk.”

  “Everlasting life?!”

  “Shhh! Keep it down!” Leonardo looked around again. “Yes,” he continued in a lower voice.

  “And ... and it will work?” Icarus asked in a whisper. Sometimes he believed Leonardo was exaggerating about those mysterious watching priests of his.

  “If you master the Magick required to do so.” Suddenly he shooed Icarus away. “I can hear someone coming!”

  Not long after that, Icarus mastered his first spell. He tried to change the colour of a small square of cloth from pink to blue – a very simple incantation – and with an unmistakable rush of power, it worked. No loud bang and flash of sulphur. He had done it! He had mastered the first level of Magick! The next couple of chants he attempted worked too, each bringing a wonderful surge of pleasure and sense of accomplishment. He warmed cups of water, created gentle puffs of wind, altered smells and even made purple flames leap from his fingertips like Leo had. He was so excited by what he’d done that he wanted to tell Leonardo, but the painter was surrounded by students for most of the day. Later that evening, after Salai had gone into town to get drunk and chase wenches, Icarus crept into Leonardo’s room to wait for him.

  Leonardo could see how excited Icarus was, and didn’t have the heart to chase him out of his bed. Because Salai had gone out, Leo desired some company. Even though Icarus was still quite small in stature, he was extremely accommodating and willing to devote himself completely to him, unlike the wild Salai. So they finally became lovers, and also used their night-time hours together to talk about the secret notebook.

  But during the daylight hours they kept their new relationship a secret. Leonardo still feared that the priests who had accosted him all those years ago were watching, just waiting to grab him on an unrelated matter and drag him off to some unknown dungeon. He had been incarcerated for sodomy before, and had no wish to be imprisoned again. Although the charges had been dropped, and he had been released, the memory still haunted him.

  Now Icarus had finally experienced the power of Magick firsthand, he began to believe in the existence of Leonardo’s mysterious watching clerics. Such a phenomenal ability would be much sought after. As the years began to pass, he made sure he only practiced his spells late at night, or inside with the windows shuttered. He learned the rest of the complex language of sounds and gestures, mastering more difficult incantations, and discovered an aptitude for the particular branches of Magick that would help him to build Leonardo’s machines. He discovered that he could communicate with spirits and soon learned he could make them do his bidding. Not with threats and force, but with gentle
persuasion. He enlisted these entities to help him manufacture first a new glider, then a wooden base for the Immortality Machine.

  His new glider worked magnificently. Both he and Salai tried it, but Leonardo didn’t want to risk injury. However the Immortality Machine was a far more difficult project. It had to be big enough to contain a man, and sturdy enough to withstand thunderbolts from the heavens. Therefore it wouldn’t be portable. It seemed scarcely had he started to build the structure when Milan was overrun by the French, and Leonardo’s benefactor, Count Sforza, was overthrown. Leonardo had to move his household from Venice to Florence, all around Italy, back to Milan and again to Florence. Icarus ended up leaving several half-finished constructions behind, hoping that people would think he’d simply been developing a large heated bathtub based on a design by Archimedes! He knew if he wanted to finish the device properly, he would need to establish his own permanent workshop.

  But as time wore in, it seemed this dream receded rather than advanced. Icarus found himself drawn into Leonardo’s other mechanical projects such a flame-thrower based on an Ancient Greek design, a hydraulic pump, a steam-cannon, a mechanical soldier and even a full-sized bridge.

  Then in 1516 King Francis I of France provided Leonardo with the use of a manor house, Close Luce, near his royal residence the Chateau Amboise. Icarus wondered if they had a permanent home at last. Leonardo, feeling his age, impressed upon him the need to resume creating the Immortality machine. He had begun to feel a great melancholy descend upon him at the sheer length it was taking him to finish some of his commissions. He confided in Icarus that time was the devourer of all things, adding “I thought I was learning to live, I was only learning to die.”

  Freed from his other projects, Icarus returned to his plans for the Immortality machine and rushed to complete a large wooden tank with windows recessed into the sides. It was held together with iron bands like a barrel. Inside was a platform that could be raised and lowered by means of a crank-handle on the side. Onto this platform he’d bolted clamps for the hands and feet. Chains ran from the shackles through holes above the windows to a large iron ring. Then he mounted the entire structure on wheels so it could be drawn up onto a hilltop during a thunderstorm. Because it would be filled with salt water, an ox was required to shift it.

  Now, it seemed, all they had to do was wait for a decent storm. Even with his ever-improving ability to summon and compel spirits, Icarus knew he would need a truly spectacular display of thunder and lightning. The tank would have to be ready to move at a moment’s notice, and he kept it filled with brackish water for almost six months before the time was finally right.

  One summer afternoon in 1518, a magnificent storm rolled in from the northwest, blackening the sky and promising a thorough drenching. Icarus, Leonardo’s new assistant Francesco Melzi and the ageing artist himself, for once banishing his usual paranoia about the ever-watchful clergy, rolled out the bizarre contraption, hitched it up to an ox, and took it up a hill behind the manor. Salai did not accompany them – he had decided to leave Leonardo’s service only a few months earlier.

  “You still haven’t told me what this strange device is!” cried Melzi, annoyed at being kept in the dark for so long.

  “It’s a surprise!” Leonardo shouted over the noise of the thunderstorm. “If it works, it will give me all the time I will ever need to finish these infernal projects!”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to try this thing out first?” shouted Icarus. “It could kill you!”

  “It might only work once, Icarus. Look at me! I can’t afford to take that chance!”

  Icarus gulped. “As you wish, Leonardo.” He and Melzi helped Leonardo up onto the wooden platform and into the metal clamps.

  “This doesn’t look good,” muttered Melzi. “I hope you two know what you’re doing!”

  “Of course,” Icarus reassured the mathematician with more confidence than he felt. He wasn’t sure what he would do if the electricity killed Leonardo. He lowered the master down into the salt water, but not enough to drop his face beneath the cold, brackish water. Then he and Melzi dragged out the chains, throwing them around a lightning-conductor Icarus had hammered in a few days earlier.

  Melzi looked up at the dreadful sky, shot through with blue-white snakes of lightning. “This really doesn’t look good. Is the whole point of this to hit Leonardo with lightning?”

  “Yes.” Icarus stepped back, surreptitiously gesturing to bring the storm-spirits to him. He couldn’t guarantee lightning simply striking by chance.

  “But he could die! This is insane!”

  Icarus took a deep breath. “It’s … what he wants. He thinks it will bring immortality.” He lifted a hand, and suddenly a sizzling white lightning bolt lanced down, striking the conductor. Snakes of electricity snarled and coiled along the chains and into the wooden body of the device, where Leonardo lay.

  There was an almighty explosion. Burning chunks of wood flew in all directions, narrowly missing Icarus and Melzi, who managed to throw himself flat. The salty water flooded down the hill, rapidly mingling with the rain that started to lance down. “Leonardo!” Icarus cried, running towards the ruins of his machine.

  Leonardo still lay on the wooden platform. It was singed and warped from the heat, but more intact than the rest of the device. Broken, smouldering boards formed a crooked wooden flower around him. But the great artist was still alive, and swearing profusely.

  “Are you alright?” Icarus gasped.

  “Yes, more’s the pity! I don’t feel any different at all!”

  “It didn’t work?”

  “No. Help me out of these damn shackles!”

  Icarus and Melzi undid the clamps and helped the drenched Leonardo to his feet. He glared at Melzi. “You’re not to breathe of a word of this to anyone, you hear me?”

  “Y-yes, of course!” Melzi wasn’t sure who he would tell. Suddenly, he was very worried by their behaviour. He realised that what Leonardo and Icarus talked about when they were together was vastly different to what he discussed with the master.

  They hurried back into the manor, and by the time they reached it, Icarus and Melzi were about as wet as Leonardo. Leo sent Melzi to get some dry towels so he could talk to Icarus alone.

  “So it was a total failure then,” Icarus remarked gloomily.

  “No – no!” Leonardo gasped. “I felt the power. It was there, but it dispersed before it reached me – probably channeled into that damn explosion. I think the container needs to be stronger – made from something that could withstand a lightning-strike.”

  “It can’t be metal, surely! The electricity would simply arc into it rather than the body inside!”

  “Well, it certainly can’t be wood, and a ceramic material would simply shatter even more spectacularly.”

  “But metal? Where on Earth could we get so much?”

  Leonardo smiled wryly. “If only I still had all that bronze for that damn Gran Cavallo!” Then he sighed. “It doesn’t look like I will achieve my dream of living forever.” He grabbed Icarus by his narrow shoulders and squeezed them. “But you must! Promise me!”

  Icarus gulped. “But I don’t see how! To build an iron Immortality machine will cost … well, more money than I will see in a lifetime, certainly!”

  Suddenly, Melzi returned with armfuls of towels, and the conversation abruptly ceased. Melzi stared at both of them, still worried by what he had witnessed. He had always thought Icarus was a quiet, wraithlike fellow who rarely raised his voice and sort of drifted around the workshop, making sure people didn’t notice him too much. But now, with that strange, fanatical gleam in his eyes, he looked almost frightening. And Leonardo seemed to fully support him in his madness. But he had sworn to secrecy, and he would never betray the artist’s trust. He simply dumped the towels onto a chair.

  Unfortunately, after such a thorough drenching, Leonardo’s health was not the same. He caught a bad cold, and although he recovered, he emerged thinner and
frailer than before, his hair and beard now almost completely white. He walked ever more slowly as the months passed. He knew his end was drawing near, and took Icarus aside one more time. “Here,” he pressed a small chest full of coins into his assistant’s hands. “Since Salai left, I managed to save this. I want you to have it for the machine.”

  “But I still don’t think I can do it,” Icarus whispered. He didn’t want to admit that the amount, although substantial, wouldn’t be nearly enough to rebuild the device.

  “You must! Because you need to build the Omniportallis as well, and travel back to the Magick Earth! There is no place for your genius here … at least not in this day and age.” He took a deep breath. “You may keep the Magick Book too.”

  “Why are you telling me this now?”

  “Because I’m busy working on my will. But the money and the book won’t be mentioned in it. You’re to take them now and put them in a safe place.”

  “Al-alright, but you’re not going to die,” Icarus assured him, adamantly refusing to believe in that possibility.

  “Of course I’m going to die. Until you finish that machine, we’re all going to die. I feel the years upon me, and very soon they will claim me. This may be our last moment alone. Do as I ask. Now.” He gave Icarus a push. “Hide your inheritance, because when I go, those priests will be all over my workshop!”

  Leonardo was right. He never did another chance to speak to Icarus alone. He died in May of 1519 with the King of France himself holding him as he slipped away. When his will was read out, it made no mention of the money or volume bequeathed to Icarus. The assistant, now in his thirties, suddenly found himself alone for the first time since he was ten years old, without a place to live and only a box of coins and a single book to his name. He knew he couldn’t return to the family home and finish Leonardo’s work there – he had to continue on by himself.

  But he had been a part of Leonardo’s household for so long … how could he survive on his own? For several days he was inconsolable – until two priests showed up at the manor house.