Robert Weinberg - A Calculated Magic

“Why not,” said Jack. “Take your time. Maybe draw a diagram. That might help.”

“Good idea,” said the sphinx. Claws sharper than steel scratched a line into stone. Eyes narrowing to points, the monster stared at the picture as if confronting an enemy.

“If Achilles starts here,” the sphinx muttered, marking off one point, “and the turtle starts here…”

Cautiously, Jack stepped a fool closer to Megan. The sphinx didn’t notice. It appeared mesmerized by its drawing. Jack tiptoed closer, at the same time beckoning to his sweetheart to circle the monster. A few seconds later, their hands closed in a brief embrace.

“While Achilles moves from A10 to A11,” declared the sphinx, shaking its head in annoyance but otherwise remaining captivated by the diagram, “the turtle advances from All to A12. The distance between them continues to shrink, but it nonetheless remains,” The monster snorted in disgust. “When he moves to A12, the turtle is at A13…”

The sphinx never saw them leave. If it was like most of the fanatic Trivial Pursuit players of Jack’s acquaintance, nothing short of the island sinking into the lava would tear it away from the enigma. The sphinx was trapped by a paradox that had confounded philosophers and mathematicians for twenty centuries.

“What would you have done if the beast knew calculus?” Megan whispered in one ear, kissing him delightfully as she did so. Among her many charms, his fiancée was an accomplished mathematician. “Or studied the theory of limits?”

“I held Cantor’s theorem proving that the infinity of the irrational numbers is larger than the infinity of the integers in reserve,” replied Jack, grinning. “I came well prepared.”

“I hope so,” said Megan, shuddering. “Because Cerberus looks hungry. And he’s not interested in trivia.”

They had advanced halfway across the marble bridge. Only a few yards separated them from the three-headed dog. This time, it did not step aside to let them pass. As Cassandra had remarked, Cerberus was trained to admit people into hell. It did not allow them to leave.

Jack crossed his fingers and reached into the small bag he carried beneath his shirt. His hand emerged with a fistful of dog biscuits. “Be ready to run,” he advised Megan as he raised his arm.

“You don’t really think that monster will be distracted by dog food?” she replied anxiously.

“Not in the least,” said Jack, flinging the biscuits forward. They landed at the monster’s feet. Sniffing, one of the hound’s three heads bent over to examine the food. “That’s just the signal.”

“Signal for what?” asked Megan.

Cerberus howled. Two of its heads jerked upward into the air, snapping at things not visible to the naked eye. The third head, caught unawares, was pulled along. The path to the outer rim was momentarily clear.

“For that,” shouted Jack. Grabbing Megan by the hand, he hurtled past the baying hound. Cassandra followed close behind. They were on the ledge, nearly at the door, before Cerberus ever noticed they were gone. A few seconds later, the trio crowded into the empty chamber on the other side of the portal.

“Neat trick,” said Megan, hugging Jack passionately. Cassandra tactfully stared in the other direction. “How did you manage it?”

“Not me,” said Jack, disentangling his girlfriend’s arms from around his waist. Kissing Megan was one of life’s great pleasures, but they were running on a tight schedule. “The birds did it.”

“The ravens?” said Megan.

“Yeah, the ravens, sweetie,” said Hugo, flashing visible for an instant as it landed on Jack’s right shoulder. In one claw, the blackbird held a slender piece of metal. Cawing, the bird waved the instrument about. “Us and these marvelous things called high-frequency dog whistles.”

“It occurred to me,” said Jack, “that three heads on one body presented a major dilemma in mental mechanics. Coordinating movement among a trio of separate entities is difficult enough under ordinary circumstances, much less when they’re linked together by muscle and bone. I merely overloaded Cerberus’s capacity for synchronized action.”

Jack patted Hugo on the head fondly. “Hugo and Mongo flew around two of the hound’s heads blowing their ultrasonic whistles. You saw Cerberus’s reaction to the racket. The shrill noise drove the dog crazy. It had to attack the cause. But, the hound couldn’t physically direct three entirely distinct motions at once. As we were the least painful distraction, the monster ignored us and concentrated on the birds.”

“My Logical Magician,” declared Megan cheerfully. “I knew you would rescue me. I never gave up hope, even after losing thirty-one games in a row of Trivial Pursuit. What’s next on the agenda?”

“First,” said Jack, “you have to take off that nightgown…”

“Jack,” giggled Megan, “don’t you think we should wait till we have more time?”

“…and put on this costume I brought with me,” Jack concluded, his face red as Megan’s lingerie. His girlfriend wasn’t as raunchy as the nymphs in Paradise, but she tried. “Dressed like a houri, you’ll blend in with the rest of the girls as we make our escape.”

“Prepare yourself to be exposed to scenes of utter depravity,” warned Cassandra as Megan, not the least bit self-conscious, stripped off her nightgown and pulled on the transparent harem garments. Jack, gentleman at heart, turned his head while she changed. Though afterward, seeing Megan’s stunning figure totally revealed in the wispy material, he wondered why he bothered.

“I’m a big girl,” Megan declared. “Living most of my life in the big city, I doubt if anything can shock me.”

The two ravens clearly took Megan’s statement as a challenge. They steered Jack and his two female companions on a completely different path to the locker room. On this trip, none of the rooms were empty. And each chamber provided a scene more scandalous than the one preceding it.

After a few minutes, Jack mentally dubbed their route the “orgy circuit,” Chess and checkers were nowhere to be seen. Instead, the nymphs were engaged in much more stimulating games. Their behavior added new meaning to the word outrageous. Jack concentrated as best as humanly possible on searching each room they entered for the door. He preferred retaining a few private sexual fantasies, and the nymphs’ conduct left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

Fortunately, Jack’s uniform gained them clear passage through the byways of Paradise. Most of the nymphs ignored them completely. The few that were physically able to stare in their direction did so for an instant, then returned to their other pursuits. No one questioned their presence as they journeyed from one chamber to another. Making idle conversation was not something that concerned the nymphs. They were too busy using their mouths in other ways.

Megan’s reaction to their first orgy was a muffled “oh,” Five nymphs engaged in a clearly impossible sexual position elicited an even quieter “oh, oh,” When they were forced to weave their steps between a dozen women moaning simultaneously in pleasure, Megan’s “oh, oh, oh,” was nearly inaudible.

To Jack’s relief, the door leading out of that particular room brought them to an empty chamber. Which, in turn, exited into the guards’ retreat. Too much of a good thing, Jack decided, thankful to be free of Paradise, was too much.

While Cassandra checked the ghuls, carefully ensuring they were securely bound and remained in dreamland, Megan changed into the skirt and blouse Jack had brought for her, “I take back everything I said,” she declared somberly when she was finished. “I guess I’m not as worldly as I thought. I still can be shocked.”