Magical Mechanications (12 page)

Over an uneasy laughter Jaha began, taking a step back while opening the chamber and presenting the weapon. “Your Majesty, I will ask of you to take aim at my heart and fire the pistol.”

Another gasp and a few screams rose from the audience while the Sultan looked at the weapon with horror.

“Do not fear, Your Majesty. Do not fear,” Jaha assured him. “I promise you the bullet will not reach me. Instead, I will catch it in mid-air, much like you have seen with Masters of the Far East.”

“But…” the Sultan stammered, still looking at the pistol. Aladdin had never saw the Sultan sweat; an amazing feat from Jaha. “But the bullet…”

“Yes, I know,” Jaha said with a charming smile, “but you must trust me and my skill.”

Aladdin bit his bottom lip.
A Frenchman named Robert-Houdin that opened my eyes at what many perceived as ‘magic.’
It was a matter of perception. He watched as Jaha loaded the weapon in front of the Sultan, his words explaining exactly what he needed the Sultan to do.

Somewhere in the midst of instruction, Aladdin took notice of Jaha’s hands. It was a simple sleight of hand from the streets, the streets he knew all too well, but an eye such as his caught it. Jaha was palming something. Something small.

His eyes narrowed on the pistol, then went back to Jaha’s hand. Could this magic truly be just as simple as a sleight of hand?

The Sultan nodded, swallowed and stepped to one side of the stage.

“And…” Jaha took in a deep breath and smiled. “Ready.”

The pistol came up. It shook, and Aladdin was convinced the bullet was going to miss Jaha completely.

The pistol fired, causing some of the harem and a few ladies in the audience to faint. Jaha was frozen in a rather dramatic pose, and the expression on his face was not one of agony or fading strength. He opens his hand—the one Aladdin saw him palming a small object—and reveals to the Sultan and to the audience a bullet.

“Sir,” the voice whispered from behind him. “I noted the Sultan’s rather poor steadiness as well as the caliber of bullet that cad is presenting. Neither of them—”

“That is why it is an illusion, Giles,” Aladdin whispered back. “And sadly, I think...”

“Brilliant!” the Sultan exploded. He then motioned to the people in the audience and to his own harem. “Arouse those who fainted. We must have an encore?”

Jaha gave a slight start. “Your Majesty?”

“There were those of my court and of my regime that missed this sorcery of yours, and I insist on an encore!”

Jaha spread his arms wide. “Indeed, Your Majesty, I am honored, but I should have time to rest.”

The Sultan’s jubilance abated, and a darker expression passed across his face. “You will deny my wish, at this command performance?”

Aladdin now switched his gaze to Jaha, and the All Powerful magician was growing slightly pale.

It was only for a moment as he turned to the audience and asked in a broad, booming voice, “Shall you see this wonder again?” The theatre erupted into applause. “Very well then,” he called over it. With a flourish of his robes, he turned back to the Sultan. “If you give me a moment, Your Majesty, I will prepare my pistol for you once more—”

“No need, All Powerful Jaha,” the Sultan said, motioning to one of his guards. “My loyal guard are known across the empire for their accuracy. He will await on your command.”

This was the moment. Aladdin gripped the backstage curtain. Timing would be crucial.

“Giles, the time has come.”

His valet, the glow from his face cleverly shielded by extensions from his shoulders, looked over to Jaha, then back to Aladdin. “What shall I do?”

“We will enact what we have discussed, but to do so, we must protect Jaha?”

“Protect that cad, you mean?” he asked, his voice rising slightly.

Aladdin shushed him and glanced back over his shoulder. Jaha was busy building up the suspense. Either that, or he was stalling. Only seconds to go before the Sultan grew impatient.

“Without Jaha, this whole plot will be meaningless,” Aladdin insisted.

From the stage, he heard the Sultan say, “Forgive me, All Powerful Jaha, but we
are
waiting.”

Aladdin turned back to Giles. “Protect Jaha. Just for this moment.”

His servant shook his head and then straightened up. “Very well, sir.”

The
click-clack
of a rifle bolt turned his attention back to the stage. Jaha was standing there before the guard, his stance now very different from the earlier illusion. Aladdin, knowing Jaha as he did, had no doubt that the clever magician would have some sort of plan to fool or foil such a wrinkle as he found himself in.
The life that my false uncle wanted to show me,
he thought as the guard shouldered his weapon, was not much different from his present life in the street.

Jaha waited, his own gaze steely and focused, apparently focused on the guardsman’s hand. He was watching for tells. He was looking for the precise moment to move.

The rifle fired. Jaha landed on one knee, his arms raised in some manner to block his chest; but on doing so, the magician appeared to slip. His arms inexplicably remained suspended above him.

“Well now,” Giles comment. “Most intriguing.”

“Now, it’s our turn,” Aladdin said, motioning for Giles to follow.

Aladdin and Giles walked out of concealment, on to the stage. There were murmurs of concern and confusion as he walked up to the struggling Jaha. The magician went still on seeing him, and Aladdin smiled and pulled back the loose fabric of the man’s robes, revealing to the shock and disapproval of the audience metal gauntlets covering his forearm. He flicked his finger against one of them, allowing the light ring to echo in the near-quiet theatre. He then motioned to the space between Jaha and the rifleman, giving a light flourish with his hand.

There, suspended in the air, spinning like a child’s toy, was the bullet. It was much larger than the one Jaha had “caught” with the Sultan, and it remained suspended in its flight, and Aladdin slowly waved his hands around it, showing no strings or any sort of restraints holding it back. He blew on the slug gently, and then wrapped his hand around it.

“Let me get this for you, Master,” Aladdin spoke, his humble tone filling the entire space around them.

The bullet was still warm but slowed down in its spinning once he gripped it. Aladdin pulled, and he felt the resistance on the slug lesson. He glanced over to Giles and noted a small light in his left arm begin to dim, until finally the light went out and the bullet was in his hand. At the same time Jaha’s arms were released by the unseen force that had held them fast.

Aladdin looked around at the audience, including the stunned, slack-jawed Sultan, and then looked at himself, still in the grubby, plain clothes of a street urchin. “Not what you expected, perhaps, in the savior of the All Powerful Jaha?” He gave a nod to the crowd, and then bowed deeply to the Sultan. “My apologies.”

As he crossed the stage, Giles’ chest and legs opened and created a half cage that Aladdin stepped into and spread his arms wide. His clothes fluttered as if caught in a hard wind, and before the eyes of the audience the fabric around his legs shimmered into a brilliant blue, free of dirt and grime. Across his chest formed silk of a matching shade, the robes matching the style of Jaha’s. His hair now swirled and groomed itself, and from the top of Giles’ cage, a fine turban was woven and secured on his head.

The cage retracted, and Aladdin took center stage with a flourish, saying “And now I stand before you, transformed.”

The audience, led by the Sultan and his court, erupted into applause.

Aladdin turned to Jaha, and this time when facing the man’s growing fury, did not flinch.

“You discovered the secret of the lamp,” he seethed, his words heard only by Aladdin.

“I have,
uncle
,” Aladdin returned, the title he bestowed on Jaha given a slight edge. “Now, allow me to show you what I have learned from it.”

The din was dying down, and Aladdin stretched his hands out before him. “My valet here is a creation I have inherited, and unlike my peer—” Aladdin motioned to Jaha’s gauntlets still in plain sight. “—I will not share the science within my magic, for we are in modern times, are we not?” He bowed to Giles and then outstretched his arms. He heard his servant turned away for a moment, then turn back and slipped Aladdin into a familiar accessory. “And we can not only create magic from that which we inherit—we can create magic ourselves.”

Aladdin ran to the edge of the stage and leapt. The screams of alarm soon changed to cries of wonder and appreciation as the boy swooped up into the air, performing arcs and loops over the audience with his carpet ornithoper. The balcony patrons waved to Aladdin as he flew by them, and the Sultan was on his feet, overcome with elation as he landed gracefully on the stage.

“The magic is within our grasp,” Aladdin said, his words overflowing with the exaltation and excitement of his flight. “We simply must dare to dream.”

He turned just in time to see Jaha moving towards him, his gauntlet now behind his head, poised in an attack. The magician suddenly stopped, his arm trapped across his face. Giles advanced on them both, the light in his arm flaring as he glided past Aladdin and drew closer on Jaha.

“Sir, the moment you asked on me has passed. What will you have me do with this cad?”

Aladdin slipped his flying carpet off his back and considered the magician. “Master Jaha, you took me on a quest for a treasure of the ages. Instead, I discovered something for more valuable—my destiny. So I should thank you.” He stepped behind his metallic valet and spoke, “Giles, send the All Powerful Jaha back where you came.”

“Gladly, Sir,” the automaton replied, and now his other hand came up.

A second light flared to life in his arm; and now bathed in the glow coming from Giles, the air distorted around the All Powerful Jaha. Jets of æther from the automaton’s base swirled around Jaha like dust storms of the desert, enveloping him in a shroud that tore at the air around him. Jaha opened his mouth as if to scream, but no sound came. The light flared even brighter—then all went dark.

Jaha was gone.

“Now for my next trick.” Giles turned to the Sultan, bowed, and asked, “Would you care for a spot of tea, Your Majesty?”

No one moved. No one spoke. There was only silence.

Until the Sultan gave a little chuckle, to which he added an enthusiastic burts of clapping.

His harem joined in the applause—and then the audience. Aladdin motioned Giles over to his side, and together they took a bow.

“Great wizard,” the Sultan asked from his throne, “what is your name?”

“I am Aladdin, Your Majesty,” he said, bestowing obeisance to his ruler. “My valet, Giles.”

“Your Majesty,” Giles replied, mirroring Aladdin’s gestures.

“Young Aladdin, I am impressed with your apparent marriage of magic and sciences. I would be most interested in discussing them with you. Would you consider being a guest at my palace?”

Aladdin felt his breath catch in his throat, not from the invitation—but from the veiled girl standing alongside the Sultan’s throne. She was with the ruler, but she was set apart from the harem. Her dark gaze fixed on Aladdin, and it seemed to sparkle in the gaslight of the theatre. Aladdin felt a slight heat rise in his skin the longer she looked at him. 

The Sultan looked at the girl, then back to Aladdin. “My daughter here has also voiced her interest in hearing of the sciences. I encourage such interests, so you would please not only the throne, but the daughter to the throne.”

Aladdin smiled, his eyes jumping from the concealed beauty to the Sultan. “Your Majesty, I live to serve.”

“It is settled then.” He clapped his hands and stood, turning to the audience still struck by the unexpected conclusion of this command performance. “Good people, we thank you for your attendance tonight. Master Aladdin will not disappoint you, I’m sure, in his next performance here; but until then, heed his words and dream.”

Following one final ovation, the audience dispersed, leaving Aladdin and his mechanical companion with the Sultan, his daughter, and his court.

You will find your destiny as he promises, but perhaps not in the fashion that you may imagine.

As soon as Aladdin could, he would call on his mother.

“Sir,” Giles asked, “what shall we do now?”

“Once we reach the palace,” Aladdin said, his eyes darting back to where the Sultan’s daughter stood. She was still watching him. “I need you to assist me in modifying my ornithopter to accommodate two flyers.”

“Two, Sir?”

Aladdin gave his valet a sly grin. “I can think of no better way to win a woman’s heart better than a magic carpet ride. Can you?”

The Little Clockwork Mermaid

By

Pip Ballantine

I thrust the harpoon hard through the tentacle of the kraken. Ink and blood clouded the water around me, but I narrowed my eyes and pressed deeper.

Folk from the Above I had heard have this idea that the sea is peaceful; full of gently swaying kelp and fluttering shoals of fish. If any of them could see what really happens in Mother Ocean they would be most surprised.

Our dramas might look prettier to human eyes, but they are truly vicious.

The bright orange loop of muscle flipped around my waist and tightened immediately. With another jab of my weapon I convinced it to loosen a fraction, so that when I flicked my tail I was able to squirm free.

To the right of me, I saw Sabrina slice through another searching tentacle. Her body was almost obscured in the clouds of black ink and blue blood, but a quick echo-pulse told me where she was more precisely anyway.

Another rapid call, and I spotted Ondine swimming hard sunwards, ink trailing from her sides. She was escaping the cloud and the tentacles, and I hoped she was not injured.

“Lorelei,” Sabrina cried, “get to the Hydra!” In the way of elder sisters she was always reminding me of the blindingly obvious. It was apparent that we had achieved our mission, and that we’d provoked the kraken quite enough to lure it from its deep lair. It was time for the kind of speed that even our powerful tails could not provide.

Still, I waited until I could ascertain that Sabrina was coming too, and then I swam swiftly in the direction of the machine. This deep down the beautiful colors of my tail were dulled to greys and shadows, but as we angled sunwards the shimmering blues and greens became visible. I admit I was always vain about my tail. What mermaid isn’t though?

With Sabrina close behind me, I saw the Hydra loom up pretty fast. The sleek, brass and steel machine resembled nothing so much a sharp–edged fish. Already four of my remaining elder sisters Tethys, Ondine, Nerissa and Ianthe were at their stations, clinging to four of the six control positions. They looked remarkably calm considering what was about to launch itself after us.

I quickly took my place, tucking my tail in tight against the Hydra, and locking my arms into the control glove.

Sabrina was in a similar position within heartbeats. Six sisters, six controls and six heads. My father was not without his little quirks, but family was everything to him, and he had made this machine for his girls.

Tethys, the eldest of my sisters, flicked her gaze over one shoulder. I didn’t need to look—I knew the kraken was coming. I could feel him. Tethys was always the one who needed to be sure of every move she made—even when fleeing from a monster of the deep. Whatever she saw, was obviously quite enough even for her, as she shoved the accelerator chadburn upwards hard enough for me to worry she might have broken it.

The Hydra shot forward, powered by father’s steam and magic engine. It was so rapid that we all closed our eyes and had to rely on echo-pulse alone. I could feel the Hydra shuddering beneath me, and for a moment I worried that the machine might fly apart under such stress. It was a new form of transport, and one I didn’t think that Father had tested it at top speed.

Still, I had a job to do. I heard Nerissa on the other side of the machine working her propulsion jet, and I scrambled to keep up. The jets worked in tandem to propel us forward—my father’s not so subtle commentary on how his girls should be.

My heart raced in my chest, but I knew now was the time. I pressed my body against the extending head of the machine, as I worked the controls to aim it.

The kraken was very much still in pursuit; its tentacles shooting out with all the strength of thrown spears, while the beast thrust water and jetted after our little fleeing family.

Still it might lose interest, so it was time to peak it a little.

The Hydra head I rode peeled away from the main frame and turned back in the direction we’d come. I couldn’t see Nerissa’s delight, but I was sure it couldn’t be as amazing as my own.

The head was carved like a sea-snake’s—and just as deadly. Twisting my right arm I aimed it, and then with my left worked the tiny lever. The lever might be small but the effect was not. Five harpoons, tipped with steel and irritant poison from the stonefish, flew true, burying themselves in the thickest part of the arms of the kraken.

The monster didn’t scream, but the nearby arms writhed madly. Now we really had its attention.

I chanced a look ahead and saw our target; the thick armoured hull of the human ship punctured the surface of the ocean, with its great paddles slapping the waves.

Ianthe, who was driving the front of the Hydra, bought us as racing up as close to the hull as possible. I grabbed tight on the head, and snapped it back into place against the main body of the machine; we were about to need all the speed we could get.

The sudden change in direction might have flung some of us off if we had not already been anticipating it.

The Hydra lurched suddenly downwards, diving towards the safety of the seafloor. I had only a moment to see the silver light of the mysterious moon on the water, only a second to think how good it would feel to break into the strange world, and then all was darkness once more.

The kraken had excellent sight, and could have turned easily to pursue us, but luckily the beast was also intensely territorial; the looming bulk of the human ship was taken by it as a more direct threat.

Its arms were already clamped on the underside of the ship, and I discerned immediately the groaning of iron and steel under assault. This was one vessel that would not be dropping depth charges on our cities again.

As Ianthe piloted the Hydra back home, none of us could contain our excitement. It was my first battle in defence of our world, and elation swelled in my chest and could not be contained. I began to sing.

Mermaids all sing for many different reasons; when finding an exquisite shell, when courting a husband, or for luring stupid sailors to their death. I sang a war song Father had taught me, and I sang it so well that none of my sisters joined in. I might be the youngest, but I had the talent of song from our syrienne mother.

Three dolphins appeared, looping and swimming around the Hydra, before eventually powering along beside me. The lead one I recognized by the chunk missing from his pectoral fin. Dolphin names were long, complicated and meant to be enunciated over extensive fishing expeditions, but they allowed us to shorten them. This one was young, and I had been able to choose his name Rive.

Fine water-voice, sister-daughter. Almost flash-fin though you ride the steel beast.

I smiled as I sang but did not rise to the bait. Flash-fin was what the dolphins called themselves in our language. Even us merfolk were not nearly as graceful and speedy as the whales and dolphins. They were full of disdain for the machines our father created, and they were the butt of many finned jokes.

Still they did not make jokes about my voice. Instead, the three of them kept easy pace with the Hydra as I sang. Rive and his pod circled and twirled about us, dancing to the rhythms of the victory song.

It was a pure moment where even my elder sister Tethys, smiled. I hoped she would keep that smile tomorrow when it would be my turn for venture Above.

Ianthe piloted the Hydra through another thick stand of kelp, and then we burst out into the soft sand plain that surrounded the city.

Every time I saw it, my heart gave a little leap, and then a little lurch. Its tall coral spires and brightly colored waving seaweeds, were home—a beloved and blessed place. However, it was all I knew and that made it less than it could have been.

Ondine, nearest turned to me, and her dark green eyes flickered over my face. She was the next youngest sister after me, and our connection was the closest.

"Nearly home," her voice was pitched through the water to just me. "And tomorrow everything changes for you."

Only last year it had been her turn to travel Above and see what lay beyond our father's kingdom. She had returned almost frightened by it, and as far as I knew had never ventured there again. Still, she had not labored the point with me—knowing how I yearned to see what she had—and I loved her for that care.

Ondine took great pains to soothe all around her that she could—even prickly Tethys.

I nodded in response but dared not speak. Instead, as the Hydra darted down towards the entrance to the coral palace, I sang louder, and this time a different song; this time the royal march; the song of our father and long dead mother.

Ianthe brought the Hydra to a stop before the periwinkle blue gates, and my sisters and I gave up our posts. Our father, Triton with his flowing grey locks of hair and muscular silver tail waited for us, hovering among the ranks of sea-guards. His smile was so large that I couldn't help giving one in return.

Even I yearned to make my father smile like that all the time. My heart swelled with pride as we swam up in line. The six marital sisters of the sea King—for once I was not ashamed to be one of them. For once I was just like the rest.

"My girls," Father said, embracing each of us in turn, "you have done a great thing today for the kingdom under the waves. So many have perished under the explosives of these vile human ships, but today you have struck a blow for us."

"Well, the kraken actually struck the blow," I whispered. Tethys shot me a look that could have come from a sea snake.

Father either did not hear or chose not to. "A well done task, and tomorrow Lorelei, it is your name-day, the day your mother, Ocean bless her, birthed you." His voice was full of pride and love, but his eyes could not meet mine. It was also the day our mother had died. None of us could get away from that fact.

Once he had collected himself, he flicked his tail until he hovered next to me. His hands clasped my shoulders and pulled me into a tight embrace. For a moment I let myself sink into it, softening my spine to his kindness—but it couldn't last long. As always the thin spectre of my mother came between us.

When he pulled back though I thought both of us had very respectable smiles on our lips. It was almost good enough to fool even myself.

"When you rise through the waves tomorrow," Father went on, angling his body so that all of my elder sisters were included, "you shall see many things. Nerissa saw a shipwreck from sunwards. Ondine witnessed a great river spill its banks and wash away a whole village into our kingdom, and Tethys," here he smiled on that blessed first, "she was brave enough to swim into the estuary and to the very shore of the evil city itself."

I had heard that story so many times that it took every ounce of willpower not to roll my eyes. Tethys was the unit of measurement for all us daughters of Triton. None had repeated her act of bravery...well none so far.

I had made no mention of my plans—even to Ondine—as I was sure every one of my sisters would tell our father. If that happened even custom would be set aside. King Triton of the waves would have none of his daughters do as I planned to do.

Every one of the merpeople in his city loved to talk about the beauty and grace of Queen Eleine—but none of them ever mentioned that she had been a syrienne. I had only learned this little secret from our paternal grandmother.

She had taken one too many weed-pods after Ondine's name-day celebrations, and let this little secret slip. It was why I had been practising in secret. If Mother had been a syrienne, then buried in her daughter’s blood, that power still lived. My sisters might not be happy to use it—but I would do everything I could to make home safe. Perhaps then Father would let us out of his sight...and into the bright world above and beyond.

The tradition of name-day ventures to the sun was ancient; as buried in myth as the city itself. Even my father as King could not disobey these traditions, since the clans of merfolk were fractious enough.

My mother the syrienne he had married because he wanted to seal that alliance, but after her death it had come a fragile thing. He might look at me out from under his eyebrows as bushy and wild as seaweed and glower, but he could not stop me.

With that realization lodged under my chest, I left the discussion of the battle to my sisters and swam into the palace. Tiny glow fish swam to and fro in the corridors, and their faint illumination was enough for merfolk to see by. The echo-sight led us through the dark and hidden places of our underwater home, but many clans preferred to see the beauty of the world; the flickering of the fish, the antics of the octopus, and the fluttering of the coral.

The palace was alive, as alive as the merfolk that lived in it. I liked that about it, and wondered if it was the same with the palaces of the human people. Did the sun produce beautiful plants as the ocean did? If they didn't have fish, then what animals did they have instead?

I yearned to find out.

I was so deep in contemplation that I nearly ran into Grandma. She was swimming down from the coral tower where all of us daughters of Triton had our quarters. Grandma was Father's mother, but had none of the traits of her son. That was lucky for me—if she had been as watchful and concerned as he was then I could not have gotten away with nearly as much as I did.