David Gerrold - The Flying Sorcerers

I started to answer, but he cut me off. “Don’t interrupt. The bicycle has many moving parts, the wheels, the pulleys, the steering bar, the pedals, the axles. All of these things must be precision carved and in delicate adjustment with each other, or the device simply will not work. Now, theoretically, a perfect machine is possible … but in practice — well, when you get a machine that has to be that precise simply to function, that is when the effect of the magic becomes most important. If only one part fails — one part — then the whole machine is useless. The simple device does not need magic, so its effect is enhanced by the simplest of spells; but a complex device needs a more complex spell just to keep it working at all. There is just too much that can go wrong. Tell me, Lant, how many parts are there to a bicycle?”

I shrugged. “I have never counted. A good many, I would guess.”

Shoogar nodded. “And how may parts does the stranger s flying nest have?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

“More than a bicycle?”

“Undoubtedly,” I said.

“Very perceptive of you, Lant. I feel sure that there must be at least a thousand different parts in that flying nest. From my own flying experiments I can tell you that a flying spell is a very complex device indeed. Purple-Gray’s nest must have many moving parts all of them working together in precision. The smallest error and — Poff! Nothing happens. It’s quite obvious to me that the more parts a machine has, the more opportunities it has to go wrong. Now, are you going to stand there and try to tell me that the stranger keeps all of those various parts working in absolute precision without the aid of any magic at all …?”

I shook my head. Shoogar made a very convincing case. Certainly, he had already given the whole matter much more thought than I had imagined. But, of course, that was his job as magician. It was reassuring to know that he was doing it so well.

I beamed proudly at him. “The same thing must apply to all of his other devices, right?”

Shoogar nodded, “You are beginning to see the obvious, Lant.”

“They must need so much magic that they must be reeking of spells, right?”

Shoogar nodded again.

“Then, you have already figured out the secret of the light device, Shoogar!” I exclaimed. “It is so complex that it is obvious, right?”

“Wrong. It is so simple that it is a mystery.”

“Huh —”

“The most I’ve been able to do is to take the device apart — but look at what that leaves me!” He waved his hand at a workbench. On it were only four pieces, the elements of the stranger’s light. These consisted of a hollow shell, a crystal lens, a flat plate and an interior canister, roughly the same “shape as the outer shell. Shoogar turned this flat bulging, object over and over in his hands, but he could not find an opening. It was hard and solid and we both puzzled over what it might contain. It resisted all of our attempts to open it, and Shoogar would not use force for fear of destroying the devices within.

“And you have been able to make no changes at all in its condition?” I prompted.

“Not exactly. I have made one change….”

“And what is that?”

“The light. It has failed completely and will no longer glow.”

“Oh.”

Shoogar glumly fitted the pieces together again as I watched. He activated the sliding nerve. Nothing happened. He twisted the turning knob back and forth. Still nothing. “I thought not,” he muttered. “I had hoped the spell might restore itself if given a chance to rest — but apparently I was mistaken.”

“Why don’t you take it back to Purple?” I suggested.

Shoogar whirled on me, “What?!! Do you think I am not capable enough on my own to solve this problem?”

“No, Shoogar!” I protested. “I am sure you are capable. I just thought that — uh, well, perhaps Purple has done something to cancel the original spell that you can’t know about. Perhaps he has insulted some god.”

Shoogar considered this. “You could be right … you’re sure you’re not doubting my ability as a magician?” He peered at me.

Hastily, I reassured him, “Shoogar, I have no doubts about the level of your knowledge.”

This seemed to placate him, “Good. Then we can pay a visit to Purple and find out why the device doesn’t work.”

We found Purple out in the west pasture, doing something with a set of his devices. I looked for, but did not see the red-fire throwing device. Apparently, he had not brought it with him. The devices he was using here in the meadow all seemed to be rather harmless.

Purple was puttering contentedly, murmuring and humming busily to himself when Shoogar interrupted and handed him the device. Purple took it, fiddled with it several times, then opened it and examined the cylinder within. He noted that its surface had gone red. “Well, of course it won’t work. The battery is dead.”

Shoogar went pale. “The battery? Why did you not tell me there was a living creature within this device? I did not even know what to feed it.”

“No, no,” said Purple with a laugh. “You don’t under-stand.”

“I understand all too well,” said Shoogar. “You entrusted a living creature into my care without even telling me. Small wonder that it died — imprisoned in that tiny box without food or water! You have caused the death of a living being to be on my head, and now I must offer up prayers for its soul!”

Purple managed to check his laughter, “Listen to me, Shoogar. Listen. A battery is not a living creature. It is a device, a thing that stores power.”

“Oh,” said Shoogar. “A latent spell.” He smoothed his fur and said in a calmer tone, “Well, which god must I placate in order to restore its power to it?”

Again Purple laughed, “You still do not understand. Here, give it to me, and I will do it for you.” He reached for the device, but Shoogar did not give it to him.

“Why will you not tell me how to restore it?” demanded Shoogar. “What good will the device be to me, if I must continually come to you when its power is exhausted — what kind of a magician would that make me look like? And furthermore, what happens after you leave — how will I restore it then? If I at least knew which gods —”

“No gods,” said Purple. “No gods at all. Your gods are not able to restore this device’s power. Here, give it to me, Shoo-gar. I will do it.”

Shoogar jerked his hand back as if stung. “The gods not able to restore the device’s power? Only you ?”

“Relax, Shoogar,” Purple said. “The device works without the gods; it doesn’t need them.”

Shoogar said slowly, carefully, “Do you mock me? No device works without the gods.”

“This one does. So do the rest of my devices.”

Shoogar gently stiffened his tone. “Purple, you are not making sense. It sounds as if you are denying the power of the gods. Such talk will cause Elcin to rain lightning down upon your head. I urge you to —”

“That would be true,” Purple interrupted, “if there were an Elcin. Or any other god. You have over a thousand gods here — and I still have not numbered them all. Oh, these primitive superstitions, borne out of the ignorant need to explain the inexplicable! I’m sorry, Shoogar; I can’t explain it to you — you’re as much its victim as its master.” Abruptly, he was silent.

“Is that all?” Shoogar asked.

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” the other replied.

Shoogar looked thoughtfully at the device he still held in his hands. “Purple,” he began slowly and evenly; his voice showed great control. “Were it not for your devices, I would think you either a fool or a blaspheming red magician. But the abilities of your devices are such that you can be neither foolish nor false. Therefore, you must be something else.” He paused, then said, “I want to know what that something is. In your conversations you continually refer to things that do not make sense, but they hint at meaning. I am sure that you know things that I do not. Your devices prove that. I wish to learn these secrets.” He paused again; it was very hard for him to say what he said next, “Will you teach me?”