L. Camp - The Exotic Enchanter

“They’ll seem unnatural for a while,” said Belphebe.

“Also,” said Ras Thavas, “you promised me another lesson in making friends and influencing people. I have tried out your principles and have been agreeably surprised to find that they actually work. Why, even Malambroso here — whose ethics, I fear, are not up to Barsoomian standards — seems to like me. So let us get to it forthwith!”

Part IV:

Harold Sheakspeare

Tom Wham I

“Well, Doc, I’m ready for your lecture!” Vaclav Polacek said as he strolled into the room. if I’m gonna be coming and going between parallel universes, I gotta bone up to be a good magician.”

“It would help a lot, Votsy, if you could do something besides turn yourself into a werewolf every time there’s trouble,” Harold Shea muttered as he shifted in his chair.

“Gentlemen,” interrupted the bushy-haired man behind the desk. “I’m in full agreement with Vaclav. It wouldn’t hurt any of us to study the principles of ‘magic’ for they are, in reality, the physics of other universes. In my long stay in Faerie and the abortive trip to the Furioso , I believe I finally have a grasp of the measurable qualities of the fourth, fifth, and sixth dimensions. So, beginning tomorrow at this time, we shall commence daily discussions on the subject. There must be more method to our madness.”

The man speaking was Reed Chalmers, once the director of the psychologists at the Camden Institute, now in charge of the hush-hush, “Interplanar Project.” He had recently returned from a rather protracted stay in several different, parallel universes. Gathered around him were the new director, Walter Bayard, and two psychologists, the outspoken Vaclav Polacek and Harold Shea. The fifth man in the room was the most unlikely member of the group, a police sergeant named Pete Brodsky.

“As you know,” Chalmers continued, “ever since Harold here, proved that our — uh — ‘syllogismobile’ actually works, we’ve been involved in a series of willy-nily chases from one universe to another, often narrowly escaping with our lives”

“I can’t say that I found my stay in Xanadu either unpleasant or dangerous,” added a sleepy-eyed Bayard. “Boann’s settling down okay.”

“That’s beside the point, Walter,” answered Chalmers. “Although I must admit it was all my fault. I never should have dragged you, Polacek, and Brodsky into that affair in the first place. It’s a perfect example of imperfect science. We have to be aware of the disturbance that our various disappearances have caused here at the Institute. That with the police is something we dare not repeat.”

“No need to thank me, boys, for squaring things between you guys and the law,” Brodsky said, smiling broadly.

“Very reassuring, Mr. Brodsky, but we shall not be calling upon you to get us out of any further scrapes with the law. From now on . . . pure science!”

“So, it’s time we started minding our extra-dimensional P’s and Q’s, eh, Doc?” said Polacek.

Chalmers leaned forward in his chair. “We’ve done enough playing swashbuckler . . . and I fear I must personally bear a large portion of the responsibility. But no more! Now we begin the application of serious and ordered scientific method, And since were all back here safely in Ohio, there must be no more trips until we analyze the data we now possess.”

“That’s fine for you. Dr. Chalmers,” Bayard said with annoyance, “you and Harold married dream girls you brought back from the land of Faerie. My Dumyazad was sent back to Xanadu quite without my consent. What about the rest of us?”

Shea remembered that Walter had actually been quite relieved when the houri, Dumyazad, was accidentally sent back to her world of origin and wondered what old Walter Bayard was really complaining about. He had brought back the stunning red-haired quasi-celt, Boann Ni Colum, Did he want two women at once?

“Seems to me, you guys have got something here that’s too hot to handle,” said Brodsky. “if word of this gets out, every Tom, Dick, and Harry is gonna want to go off to the world of his dreams. Like some kind of magic carpet almost.”

“Ahem,” Chalmers cleared his throat meaningfully, “that is precisely the problem!” He turned to Bayard. “Walter, I’m not closing the door to the rest of you, I merely want a temporary halt to interdimensional travel. We’re sitting on the greatest cosmological discovery in history, We must be very, very careful, until we are ready to publish our findings.”

“I’ll be as meticulous as you will,” said Shea.

Chalmers stood up, resting his hands on his desk, “Then we all agree. No more trips will be made into parallel universes until further notice.” He looked around the room and stared seriously into each man’s eyes.

Polacek, who had stopped in a corner, resumed his pacing and opened his mouth to speak. Reed Chalmers beat the Czech to the punch and continued: “I want all of you, including Brodsky here, to prepare written reports on your recent — uh — experiences.” There was a general groan from those present. “I want you to note every detail about the acts of magic you saw or experienced. We must leave no stone unturned. We must determine exactly what we have done to transport ourselves and others to parallel worlds. Our formulae must be refined and made more accurate.”

“Not to mention the fact that we’ve seldom gotten back to this universe without help from the locals,” added Shea.

There was a murmur of agreement Chalmers continued. “Vaclav, I’m putting you in charge of correlating our experiences with the magic or more accurately, the physics of the various worlds we have visited . . . with my assistance and guidance, of course.” The Czech beamed with obvious pleasure.

“Don’t look so smug, Votsy,” Shea admonished, “the only way we’ll ever be able to trust you with magic is to make you an expert on the subject.”

The Czech shot Harold a hostile glance as Reed Chalmers closed the meeting. “Ahem. Yes, well, then, I think that will be enough for today. And remember, gentlemen. be careful what you say, and no experimenting on your own.”

* * *

Harold Shea stopped typing and leaned back in his chair. Two weeks had passed since Doc Chalmers had asked for the reports which he had still not finished. Of course, some of his experiences were months old. . . . His eyes drifted across the room to his wife, Belphebe, seated at a table in the den, busily fletching arrows for her bow, Not everybody. he thought to himself, can be married to a red-haired, freckle-faced huntress. The main problem with being married to a huntress from the woods of Faerie was that she was not too happy with the city life of a modem American psychologist.

He had solved part of the problem by moving out of his town house in the city. Together, they had picked out a lovely place in the woods at the edge of the city limits. It wasn’t perfect. Their backyard was a giant cornfield, But oaks and maples bordered them on both sides.

Harold and Belphebe had made a pact: if it wasn’t raining and the babysitter was available, they would sleep outside in the trees on even dates. Otherwise, she would join him in the bedroom. He looked out the window into the gray drizzle and smiled. It had rained every day since they moved in.

He stared down at the page in his typewriter, and his mind drifted back to mythological Ireland and his adventure with the Sidhe of Connacht. Harold’s conversations with the Druid Miach in Tir na n-Og, in mythical Ireland had seemed to explain a lot.

The old man had, in effect, said that it was not possible to be released from a world without doing something to alter the pattern of that world. It appeared to be Harold Shea’s personal geas. Was it his own? Or had it applied to all of those from the Institute who had traveled to another continuum? He made a mental note to discuss this concept with Doc Chalmers.