Off to Be the Wizard (11 page)

Phillip moved to stand beside him. “Push your hand forward, like you’re gently shoving the coin away.” Martin did, and the coin slowly glided away from Martin. “Now, pull your hand back, like you’re pulling on the coin.” He did, and the coin slowly glided back to him. “Make a stop sign with your hand.” Martin did, and the coin sat motionless in the air.

“What now?” Martin asked.

“Have fun,” Phillip answered.

Martin did just that. At his command, the coin explored every inch of airspace in the room. After a few minutes, Phillip asked, “It’s pretty much the best thing ever, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is!” Martin replied.

“You see, the shell is watching for certain words or phrases – cheat codes, if you like. That’s what we do. We research, design, and develop new cheat codes, which we share with the other wizards. It wouldn’t do to have the codes just be words and phrases though. If some local heard the Konami code, as you call it, and repeated it, they’d have access to all of the spells, and that would be bad. So, in order to use the spells, you need to have said the code, you have to know the commands in Esperanto, you must be wearing a robe with cuffs exactly two feet in circumference, and a conical hat no less than one foot tall. Also, you must be holding either a wooden staff five feet tall, not including ornamentation, or a wooden wand one and a half feet in length. Get any part of that wrong, and the shell will ignore you.”

Martin played with the coin for a few more minutes. Finally, Phillip said “Let’s try something else. Say
kopio objekto
.” Martin said it. There was a flash of blue light and then there were two coins.

“And that,” Phillip said, “is why we don’t have to work for a living.” Phillip reached up and snatched one of the coins out of the air. “Now say
detrui objekto
, if you please.” Martin did. There was another flash of light, and the coin disappeared.

“Where’d it go?” Martin asked.

“It didn’t go anywhere. It’s just gone. It no longer exists. That’s the thing about being part of a computer program, the laws of physics no longer apply. Matter can be created or destroyed. That’s why we train and screen people before giving them access. If you were to point at a person and say the spell, that person would be irrevocably gone and everything that person knows, including who had killed them, would be lost.” Phillip stretched, yawned, and walked to the door that separated the crystal ball room from the shop. He stood silhouetted in the door with his back to Martin.

“Yup,” Phillip said, “someone who has access to the shell can go anywhere, do almost anything, and if they kill someone, say the person who gave them the code, who would be the only person who could identify them, they’d be impossible to stop.”

Phillip stood in the doorway for a long moment.

“Mm hm,” he continued, “the only person who could identify them would be gone.”

Another long moment passed.

“And in your case, Martin, that person would be me.”

Slowly, Phillip twisted around to look over his shoulder at Martin, who was still standing there silently. Phillip smiled. “Well done! You’ve passed the most important test so far. You didn’t try to kill me!”

“People actually do that?”

“Oh, yeah! Think about it. I’ve already made you functionally immortal. I’ve given you the ability to create money. I’ve shown you enough about flight to figure it out on your own. I’ve given you a hat, robe, and staff, and made it clear that if you took me out you wouldn’t have to face the trials. Someone who isn’t as decent as you might well be tempted to destroy me and get on with their lives.”

“It didn’t even occur to me.”

“Dumb and decent can often look the same. It’s depressing, but the truth often is. It’s just as well. You’re still in a safety mode. If you had tried to kill me you’d have been knocked unconscious, and I don’t think I need to tell you where, when, and in what state of dress you’d have woken up.” Phillip walked back to the hidden keyboard and hit a few keys without bothering to sit down. He squinted into the crystal ball and said “There, the safety’s off. Now … where was that … thing.” Phillip turned his back to Martin and rummaged around in the shelves that were now partially concealed by the drapes. He rummaged for a full thirty seconds, then stood up, faced Martin, and spread his arms wide.

“Congratulations! You’ve passed another test! You didn’t kill me even after I explained in detail why you might want to! That clears up the whole ‘dumb or decent’ question.” Phillip went back to the keyboard and hit a few more keys. When he finished he looked at Martin, who was studying him intently.

“Is this another test?” Martin asked.

“If you have to ask, then it probably is.”

Chapter 15.

Phillip and Martin spent most of the next two days practicing levitating and duplicating objects and going for long walks around Leadchurch. Phillip encouraged Martin to ask questions, but was careful in how much new material they covered on a given day. He said he wanted to keep Martin from getting overwhelmed. Martin would leave the embarrassingly oversized loaner robe and hat back at the shop. Without the rest of the ensemble, his staff seemed out of place, so it stayed back at the shop as well.

Occasionally one of the locals, as Martin now called them, would ask Phillip for some assistance. If they wanted money or food, he’d hear them out, and if he found them worthy he’d make their chicken into two chickens. If they wanted him to predict the future, he’d say something confusing and move along. If they were particularly hard up he’d say something confusing
and
make their chicken into two chickens. Martin noticed that the locals were falling into three distinct categories: people who wanted something and walked right up to ask, people who didn’t want something right now but treated Phillip in a cordial manner, and people who clearly were up to no good, all of whom seemed to avoid Phillip like the plague.

“When I first got here,” Martin said, “the first two locals I met were a couple of really tough-looking guys. We were on the road, miles from anyone else. I thought they were going to give me trouble, but they seemed terrified of me.”

Phillip laughed. “These people have lived with us wizards in their midst for years now. They’re all aware of the damage we can do if pushed. Think about how you got here, Martin. Think about all of us other wizards. We got here the same way. Part of why we all get along so well is that we’re pretty much the same type of person. Only people who spend more time with computers than with people ever find the file, so we all share similar experiences and attitudes. Regretfully, some of us are still carrying a chip on our shoulder from the playground, and now that we have the power to get some revenge on bullies, some tend to take it too far. There’s one spell that causes a thirty-foot tall flaming demon to claw its way out of the ground and give your foe a wedgie. That makes a lasting impression.”

“You’re saying that the bullies are afraid of the geeks.”

“Specifically, oddly dressed geeks who talk funny, and last night that described you perfectly.”

“So we’re allowed to use our powers as a weapon?”

“Only in self-defense. It seldom comes to that. As you’ve seen, we can make our homes and shops impregnable, and out here in the open we’re unlikely to be taken unawares. If someone does grab me, I can always just say
eskapi
and …”

There was a flash of blue light and Phillip was gone. Martin looked around. Everybody on the street was looking at him. Several very large men seemed particularly interested in the now unescorted wizard’s apprentice, and started walking towards him. There was another flash of light, Phillip was back, and suddenly nobody was looking at them anymore. The large men seemed preoccupied with the sky, or the ground, anything but Phillip and Martin.

“Sorry about that. Anyway, I can say
that word
and I’ll go to a safe place I set up in advance. In my case it’s ...”

“You know what,” Martin interrupted, suddenly aware that people were paying more attention than Phillip might realize. “You can show me later.”

That afternoon Martin multi-tasked, splitting his attention between the Esperanto vocabulary book from the 1930s that Phillip had given him and doing quick and dirty alterations on the loaner robe and hat. His own robe would not be ready for another week, and he’d decided he never wanted to be caught in public without the identifying markers of a wizard again. He sat in the shop, speaking gibberish and occasionally jabbing himself with the needle. He was grateful that the blood-red robe hid bloodstains. When he was done, he looked himself over, and he had to admit his handiwork looked pretty bad. He looked like he had his tailoring done by an eight-year-old, but at least he didn’t look like a victim.

He went into the crystal ball room to show Phillip his finished ensemble. Phillip agreed that the sewing wasn’t great, but that Martin’s staff had come out nicely. Martin had stripped off the bark, sanded the pale wood smooth, varnished and sealed the wood and firmly affixed the six-inch bust of Santo to the top. The bust had a square base that included Santo’s cape chain and collarbones, but cut off his shoulders. His thick, short neck led to his hand-painted mask. It was a dazzling metal-flake silver, like the body of a fiberglass dune buggy. The piping around the eyes, nose, and mouth holes was a flatter, duller gray. The eyes of the mask were canted at a fearsome, angry-looking angle, but the human eyes they framed looked kind and gentle. It was totally incongruous, and as such, perfect for Martin’s needs.

Phillip took it all in and said, “You look like a crazy person.”

“Good?” Martin said.

“Very good,” Phillip said, “and you’re just in time. We should really get going.”

Martin wasn’t aware that they were going anyplace that evening, and said so.

“You’ve been doing a great job, and I know that what with the consciousness-changing discoveries, police chases, time-travel and wizard training, it’s been a stressful couple of weeks for you, so I figured it was time to have some fun.”

Martin tried to picture what fun for someone with the kind of powers the wizards have. “Are we going to go flying, or teleport to a historical event?”

“We could do those things if you want. I was thinking we’d just meet a couple of my friends and spend the evening eating unhealthy food and playing board games.”

“Let’s do it!” Martin blurted.

Phillip smiled and said, “Let me tell them we’re coming.” Phillip gripped his staff in his left hand, and held his right hand at head height as if he were performing the
alas poor Yorick
speech from Hamlet. He said, “komuniki kun Gary!” A glowing sphere of white light appeared in Phillip’s outstretched hand. It pulsated and emanated an eerie warbling hum.

“It’s ringing,” Phillip said.

After a moment, the sphere of light collapsed, changed shape, and became an image of a flaming human skull. It was completely flat, as if it were painted on a sheet of plastic. The flames moved, but not fluidly. It took Martin a moment of mental processing to realize that the image hovering above Phillip’s hand was an animated GIF file projected into the world like an object.

A hollow, distant voice emanated from the flat flaming skull. “WHO HAS SOUGHT ME? I, WHO HOLD THE FATES OF … oh, hey, Phil. You still coming over?”

“Yeah, just wanted to let you know we’re on our way now.”

“Cool. See you then. The location code is
Gary la antaŭa korto,
got it?”

Phillip said, “Yeah, see you in a sec,” and made a fist, causing the flaming skull to disappear.

Moments later Phillip and Martin materialized in a small, dark clearing in a forest, near the side of a hill. The sun had not quite set, and the countryside beyond the forest was bathed in a golden glow. This chunk of forest, however, was dark and foreboding. What little light filtered in revealed twisted trees with gray bark and brown leaves. The underbrush was damp, and smelled of decay. On one side of the clearing, a barely discernible path led into the woods. Trees hung menacingly over the trail, giving the impression of a claustrophobic tunnel. At the other end of the treeless area, the path widened, and the bordering trees provided less cover, as they all seemed to be dead or dying. Three wizards were already there. They seemed very happy to see Phillip.

“Gentlemen,” Phillip said, “Good to see you!”

Phillip introduced everyone. Gary was tall and thin with a short beard and large, mischievous eyes, wearing a black robe and hat. Jeff was small but muscular, with a narrow head, prominent nose, and small eyes. His robe appeared to be some sort of gray wool. Tyler was heavier, but by no means fat, with dark skin, short, black, curly hair, a friendly demeanor, and a striped purple and red robe. All three of them were smiling a little too broadly, almost to the point of laughing. Phillip frowned and looked down. He was standing ankle-deep in a puddle.

“GARY!” Phillip yelled.

“You shouldn’t have let Gary know where you would be teleporting,” Jeff offered. “Never smart.”

“I used the location code he gave me,” Phillip said, looking at his soggy boots.

“Like I said. Not smart.”

There were spells that could be used to clean items, but nobody had come up with a better means of drying things than time and air, so Phillip was doomed to spend the rest of the evening barefoot, prolonging Gary’s victory.

Tyler looked at Martin’s robes. “Wow, Gwen’s work is really slipping.”

“Oh, you’ve all met Gwen?”

“Met, asked out, and got rejected by,” Gary said.

“Yeah, that Gwen,” Jeff said. “She don’t like the wizards.”

“She likes me fine,” Phillip said, removing his waterlogged boots and socks.

“But you’ve never asked her out,” Gary said.

“There might be a lesson in that,” Phillip said, looking at Martin.

“I don’t see the point in having a woman like you if you’re not going to go out with her.”

“No, Gary, you wouldn’t,” Phillip said.

“Anyway,” Martin explained, “Gwen’s still working on my robe. This is a loaner from Phillip.”

Tyler looked at the robe again, then cocked an eyebrow at Phillip. “Blood-red with black trim? That’s not your style.”

Phillip shrugged. “I was in my necromancer phase.”

Tyler nodded. “We all go through it.”

“If you’re lucky, you grow out of it,” Jeff said looking at Gary, who was resplendent in his black robe.

When Phillip was convinced that his boots were clean, they proceeded into Gary’s home. They had walked past the dead trees, around the corner of a steep hill, which blocked their view of what was ahead. They didn’t walk far, maybe a hundred feet, before a carefully calculated vista opened before Martin, revealing Gary’s home. There was a small, perfectly round clearing at the base of a cliff. At the center of the clearing there was a stone plinth. On the plinth burned a fire so dark blue it was essentially black. The fire cast eerie shadows upward. Martin’s eyes were naturally drawn to a twisting path cut into the rock. It switched back on itself twice before terminating about three stories up the cliff at a cave opening that formed the mouth of a ghastly skull. The hollows that formed the eyes of the skull glowed faintly red.

“Home sweet home,” Gary said as he and Tyler lifted their staffs and flew to the skull’s mouth. Jeff produced a wand and followed them, soaring gracefully through the air. Phillip left his boots and socks at the foot of the trail, put a hand on Martin’s shoulder, and flew the two of them to the skull as well. The mouth of the cave was large enough for all five of them to stand comfortably.

“Welcome to Skull Gullet Cave, Martin. Come on in,” Gary said, walking deeper into the cave. The cave entrance narrowed, then widened again into a chamber about thirty feet around, lit by torches set low on the walls that burned with a smokeless green flame. At the far end there was a massive throne made entirely out of antlers. Hundreds of sharp points jutted out at chaotic angles. It was the least comfortable looking chair Martin had ever seen. Next to it on a pedestal there was a massive, ancient-looking leather bound book, held at an angle, waiting to be studied.

“I just need to grab something really quick,” Gary said as he hoisted the cover of the book open. Martin was surprised to see light emanate from the pages, illuminating Gary’s face with a bluish light. Martin was less surprised a moment later to hear the book make the classic synthesized bong of a Macintosh computer booting up. Gary lifted a dark gray, first generation Apple PowerBook out of a hollow that was cut into the pages of the book. Gary held his staff in front of him and said, “Mother Love Bone.” Lines of fire formed a rectangle on the cave wall. The stone inside the rectangle disappeared as the fire died out, revealing a room beyond. Gary led the others into the next room.

When compared to the cave’s exterior and the first room, this room was shockingly normal by comparison. In one corner there was a roaring fire in a large fireplace, providing heat. There was a table with benches along both sides. There were three cushions on each bench to suggest where people should sit and help those people forget that they were sitting on a wooden bench. Light was provided by white balls of light that just hovered in the four corners of the room.

“I love what you’ve done with the place, but when people see this room, isn’t the effect kind of ruined?” Martin asked.

“Nobody but other wizards ever see this room,” Tyler answered.

“If a lady wants to come home with me, I transport her directly to the bedroom,” Gary said, motioning to a door in the back corner.

“And no wizard wants go in there,” Jeff added quickly.

Gary gave Martin the grand tour of the main room, but there wasn’t really much to show. Martin was beginning to worry about the spartan nature of the lives the wizards seemed to be living. He didn’t like the idea of spending the rest of his life living in barely furnished rooms and eating stew and porridge. As if reading his mind, Gary said, “So, who’s hungry?” The answer was everyone. Martin was bracing himself for more stew when Gary said, “Martin, you’re the new guy. What do you like, pepperoni, combo, or plain cheese?”