Robert Weinberg - A Calculated Magic

“Von Bern was a fool,” said the Old Man of the Mountain. “He deserved his fate.”

The Old Man of the Mountain clapped his hands three times. As if by magic, a dozen scantily clad women appeared from unseen doors, each carrying a tray full of food. Soft music, from an unseen band, filtered through the throne room. Roger groaned. It was the start of another one of the Old Man’s interminable banquets. More cushion time. His sore muscles shrieked in protest.

“Hasan al-Sabbah is the master of cunning and deceit,” the Old Man of the Mountain declared, reaching for a piece of fruit. “No one thwarts my wishes. No one. Not even a Logical Magician.”

Sprawled across the immense king-size bed that dominated the master bedroom, Jack watched Cassandra unpack and examine her weapons. The Amazon had refused to travel completely unarmed. A half dozen razor-sharp miniature Lucite throwing stars had been concealed in her boots, and her broad belt held a handful of curare-tipped darts. However, her real arsenal made the trip in their bags.

With practiced hands, Cassandra pulled apart a folding steel luggage cart. In seconds, she disassembled it into a pair of needle-thin stilettos and a garrote. Extending the legs of a seemingly innocent camera tripod to their full length, the Amazon screwed the pieces together to form her favorite weapon—a silver-tipped fighter’s staff. Other than their clothing, everything in the suitcases bore a dual purpose, usually connected with death and destruction.

“I should have most of my equipment ready shortly,” the Amazon announced, trying on a pair of brass knuckles. “When do you want to start exploring the premises?”

“Not until Hugo and Mongo find us,” said Jack. “I promised the ravens I’d wait for them to show up.”

“Like this?” asked Hugo, appearing as if by magic on Jack’s right shoulder.

“Or this?” said Mongo, popping out of thin air on Jack’s left shoulder.

“Very neat,” said Jack, mentally trying to force his heart to stop skipping beats. He noted that Cassandra clenched a dagger in either hand. The ravens had caught her by surprise as well. “How do you manage this trick?”

“Simple,” said Hugo, flapping his wings as he spoke. “We control the power to make ourselves transparent. It’s like turning yourself invisible but better. We can see each other, but nobody else can.”

“Working as spies for Odin, we needed the talent,” said Mongo, staring at Jack’s head. “Would you mind if I whisper this stuff in your ear? It would really bring back memories of the good old days.”

Jack shuddered, imagining the raven’s beak puncturing his eardrum. “Maybe another time,” he declared. “For now, speak aloud. Cassandra also needs to hear what you two learned. I assume you found out something interesting, thus the dramatic entrance.”

“You bet,” said Hugo. “We located the Old Man of the Mountain right away. It wasn’t difficult. Mongo suggested we search for the most lavish place in the complex. Needless to say, that’s where Hasan makes his headquarters, it’s on the roof of the main resort. Top of the mountain, so to speak. You’ll never guess who we found the Old Geezer arguing with?”

“You’re right,” said Jack impatiently, “I’ll never guess. So tell me.”

“The Ancient One,” said Mongo. “The demigod we thought was behind this entire mess.”

“ Thought ?” asked Jack. “You mean it’s not?”

“Well, it was,” said Mongo. “But it’s not anymore. Hasan has taken control of things.”

The bird paused and looked at Jack’s ear again. Jack shook his head. “Maybe,” said Mongo, “we should start from the beginning.”

“Good idea,” said Jack.

Thirty minutes later, the two blackbirds finished relating the entire conversation that had taken place in the Old Man’s throne room. The ravens proved to be excellent reporters, describing each participant in detail and repeating their conversations verbatim. By the time they finished, Jack had a thorough understanding of what was happening. He didn’t like it one bit.

“You didn’t happen to learn who this Karsnov character is?” he asked. “Or what they meant when they spoke of his plague virus?”

“Actually,” said Mongo, “I spent a few minutes afterward chatting with some of the birds perched outside the hotel. You’d be surprised how much information you can learn from the locals.”

“Yeah,” said Hugo, “and I flew over to the nearest library and reviewed the New York Times for information on Karsnov. Wish they made microfiche readers for birds. It strained my eyes reading the film without magnification.”

Jack blinked at this latest revelations of the two blackbirds’ miraculous powers. His mother had been right. The ravens were incredible. But at the moment he was more interested in the results of their inquiries than how they were conducted.

“Well?” he asked impatiently. “Well?”

“The Times identified Karsnov as one of Russia’s leading experts on chemical warfare,” said Hugo. “Evidently, he got into big trouble a few months ago when the government learned he conducted unauthorized biological warfare experiments on Russian citizens. It involved an airborne strain of anthrax plague that killed several hundred innocent people. According to the newspaper, Karsnov vanished without a trace one step ahead of the KGB.”

“Only to turn up here shortly afterward,” said Mongo. “Safe and snug with his new patron, the Old Man of the Mountain. And it sounds like the Russian is up to his old tricks. The birds outside tell me that there have been a dozen mysterious deaths in Las Vegas the past few weeks. All of them have been reported as resulting from pneumonia. Which is the way anthrax plague is usually misdiagnosed.”

“An anthrax plague?” said Jack. “That’s insane.”

“Depends on your point of view,” said Cassandra. “Loki deals in arms. What better weapon to offer your clients man a deadly plague virus that can’t be identified or stopped? It’s the ultimate killing device. You can wipe out the entire population, leaving their buildings, possessions, and raw materials untouched. Remember all that talk of the neutron bomb years ago. This plague satisfies all the necessary requirements and it’s much more subtle. You can wage war without the enemy knowing a battle is taking place.”

Jack shivered. Cassandra painted a convincing if terrifying scenario. “What about this Brotherhood of Holy Destruction?”

“Fanatic Muslim fundamentalists intent on destroying the United States,” replied the Amazon. “I’ve heard of them. They believe that the end justifies any means. They’ve vowed revenge against the United States for the actions taken against Libya and Iraq. Can you think of a more diabolical plan than to poison the water supply of Las Vegas with a slow-acting version of this plague virus? Tourists from throughout the country come to the city for short visits. Within weeks, the entire country would be swept up in an outbreak of the disease. Millions would die before an antidote could be found.”

“Dare I inquire what the Ancient One wants with this formula for disaster?” whispered Jack.

“Oh, we know the answer to that riddle,” said Hugo. “As soon as we entered the throne room, Mongo and I recognized your mysterious demigod. He rose to power during the same period when Odin first emerged as a Teutonic forest deity. Mongo and me, we never forget a face. Especially a mug as ugly as the Crouching One’s.”

“That was the nickname his worshipers in Babylon gave him,” said Mongo. “He was the most feared god in prehistory. Most humans called him Lord of the Lions, because his head resembled that of a giant cat. But his proper name was Nergal. He was the Ruler of the Underworld, god of death and destruction, pestilence and… plague .”