The Man Who Was Magic (9 page)

But nevertheless, deep down, hardly to be acknowledged, they had entertained the thought:
What if it had not been sleight of hand? What if it had not been a case of the hand-is-quicker-than-the-eye, but real, honest magic instead of one of their own illusions?

Professor Alexander still had the floor: “I move that Adam the Simple be admitted to the finals. And if Malvolio here had not destroyed the egg, I should have recommended depositing it in our Museum.”

There were more cheers and applause at this, and even the Judges, with the exception of Malvolio, joined in.

Now The Great Robert also rose to his feet, smooth and easy as ever, a friendly, genial smile upon his public countenance. In spite of his dislike and fear of Malvolio, he had been dying for Adam to accept the challenge, to see whether he could repeat the trick. But with the violent reaction of Professor Alexander, he had swiftly changed and now already other plans were beginning to form in his mind. “Adam the Simple, come forward!”

Adam did so, removing his cap respectfully.

Mopsy said, “Try not to laugh.”

Adam hissed, “Hush, you naughty little beast!”

The Great Robert orated in his best manner, “Adam the Simple, we welcome you to Mageia. You have passed your test and I have great pleasure in admitting you to the final trials for membership in our great Guild, tomorrow night. Fussmer, are you taking all that down?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you, Your Worship,” Adam said and then added, “And please, may Jane continue to be my assistant?”

The Great Robert pretended to reflect upon this, but he was delighted. For Adam thus was playing directly into his hands with the scheme forming in his head: how he might be able to find out for himself the secret of Adam’s sensational trick. Eventually he agreed. “Why yes, since she’s already done so well. I shall be very pleased. I should like at this time also to extend an invitation to come and stay with us in our happy home while you are in Mageia. My wife and I would be delighted to have you under our humble roof.”

Adam heard Mopsy mutter, “I wouldn’t trust the old buzzard. He’s got something up his sleeve besides his arm. Can’t we go to a hotel?”

“Mopsy, you’re impossible!”

“I beg your pardon?” said Robert.

“My dog was wondering whether he might be allowed to come too?”

“But of course. We should be honored to have such a clever animal in our midst, particularly since our dear Jane seems to have taken to him so.”

Now during this exchange with all eyes upon Adam and the Chief Magician, no one was aware that Malvolio had leaned over to Mephisto and whispered in his ear. “Don’t say anything now, but there’s something rotten going on here. We may all be in terrible danger. Meet me in the basement after the tests. Tell Hamid, Zerbo and Fussmer and anyone else who wants to come. But whatever you do, don’t let on to that old fool Robert.” To this Mephisto had nodded his assent imperceptibly.

The Chief Magician was saying, “Well then, let’s get on. What is there left on the program?”

“Only one more, your honor,” Fussmer replied, and called off a name.

It turned out to be a young magician who produced a neat and simple routine with cards. But the truth was that everyone was still so overwhelmed at what had happened and relieved at the resolution of their secret fear, that he was quickly passed into the finals and the affair broke up with sandwiches and cold drinks being served. The candidates, as well as several members of the Council and guests, crowded around congratulating Adam and Jane, who was carrying Mopsy in her arms.

There was intense excitement throughout the gathering, now that their minds had been relieved of that sudden unacknowledged dread that what they had seen might have been something quite other than it appeared, and already little knots and groups were forming, discussing Adam’s turn and how it might have been done.

For while the majority of the magicians of Mageia were highly honorable and upright men who would not have dreamed of stealing a routine from a colleague or neighbor, it was perfectly legitimate if they managed to find out on their own the secret, or otherwise to duplicate it. It was then permissible for them to include it in their acts. Thus, they quite expected the newcomer to guard his method closely.

True, a number of them felt slightly put out that their Mayor, The Great Robert, had rather swept Adam into his orbit and out of theirs, for there was always the chance that the stranger might be willing to reveal his trick, in which case the Chief Magician would have the monopoly.

In the meantime, furtively, Mephisto was circulating among those he thought might lend an ear, whispering, “Meeting in the basement in an hour. Malvolio says matter of life and death. Better come, if you know what’s good for you.”

In the dark and devious mind of Malvolio, a new plot against The Great Robert was hatching. He was not at all satisfied with what old Professor Alexander had said about the trick with the egg. He saw himself as the only one there awake to the possibility that the stranger was far more than what he seemed—an apprentice, journeyman magician who had wandered to Mageia as had so many others. If he could prove it and alert all Mageia to the danger, he would soon enough be able to supplant The Great Robert as Chief of all the Magicians and Head of the Guild.

There were two more persons in the gathering who were feeling most uncomfortable, worried and ill at ease as the result of Adam’s performance. One was Fussmer. Try as he would, he could find no natural or mechanical means either for the manner in which his false teeth had been stripped from inside his mouth to land in Adam’s cap, some ten feet away.

And the other, of course, was Ninian who, although he was still filled with gratitude to Adam, wasn’t all that happy over the way in which he had passed his test.

For he was already terrified at the prospect of what would happen to him when called upon to perform the following night. He certainly would not be able to repeat the trick of bird cage into goldfish bowl and he was quite well aware that he had not done it by himself. But if he had not done it, then it must have been Adam. And if it was Adam—how? And what could it all mean?

His discomfort was not lessened when suddenly The Great Robert who had never even deigned to notice him in the past, came over, threw an arm about his shoulder and said jovially, “And I’m sure we’d like to have our old friend join us at dinner tonight, where we can all discuss in peace and quiet some of the wonderful routines we’ve seen today. Now, now, Ninian, you mustn’t say no. My wife will be delighted to have you. Plenty of room—eight o’clock. Come as you are.”

X

F
EAR
C
OMES TO
M
AGEIA

“F
augh! I don’t like this place one bit,” Mopsy was saying. “I wish we were out of it. This house gives me the willies. And as for the conjurers, I haven’t seen a real good trick since we’ve come here. Paper flowers, cards, making coins disappear up their sleeves, billiard balls, colored handkerchiefs and pulling rabbits out of silk hats! What kind of magic do you call that? And what a silly place to keep rabbits.”

“Mopsy, you mustn’t talk like that,” Adam admonished. “These are some of the greatest magicians on earth and they are loved and admired all over the world, especially by children.”

“Huh,” said Mopsy, quite unabashed. “If I were a child, I’d be scared to death by creeps like Malvolio and Mephisto. Jane said that oily fellow, Hamid what’s-his-name, gave
her
the shivers.”

“Oh now, Mopsy, come on, be sensible,” Adam said. “They’re not really like that. It’s just part of their act, to seem more mysterious and excite people. For instance, those two magicians, one dressed up as a Chinaman and the other as an Indian, it’s all showmanship.”

This conversation took place in the bathroom which had been assigned to Adam and which was really quite extraordinary. It had, among other conveniences, an all-purpose chair with a whole panel of push buttons from which to choose, listing, “H
ANDS
. F
ACE
. T
EETH
. B
RUSH AND
C
OMB
. S
HAVE
. L
OTION
. P
OWDER
. H
AIR
T
ONIC
. M
ANICURE
. M
ASSAGE
,” etc.

While The Great Robert’s residence was in the old-fashioned style, with gables, timbers and leaded windows outside, it was a real magician’s house within, where everything worked by electricity. Whatever one needed, practically, all one had to do was turn a knob and there it was.

“Look here,” Adam said, “isn’t this marvelous? I call this real magic.” He pushed half a dozen or so buttons, pulled a lever and sat back.

Immediately a nailbrush vigorously chased the travel grime from beneath his fingernails; a whirling brush polished his teeth; a razor shaved him; bottles poured lotion onto his face and tonic onto his red hair; a comb and brush arranged the latter neatly; an arm came up and patted powder onto his face and a vibrator gave his neck and shoulders a massage.

Previously the Chief Magician had shown Adam and Mopsy about the house, displaying with great pride its many mechanical, magical marvels. For instance, in the library it was not necessary to take down any volume from a shelf. One merely dialed its number, moved an indicator to chapter and page, and the book would begin to read itself out loud.

When one smiled at a solemn portrait hanging on the wall, it would smile back. “An example of one of my earlier illusions,” The Great Robert had commented. “I’ll show you how it works later, if you’re interested.” He had taken infinite pains to explain everything to Adam, which was all a part of his plan to get hold of the stranger’s secret.

“Our magic kitchen is wired for sound,” he explained. “In addition to the usual peelers, scrapers and slicers you see there, nothing needs to be touched by hand. I’ll get you a report from the oven.”

He pressed a small switch at the side, whereupon a voice announced, “Everything going fine in here; roast browning evenly; ought to be done in about an hour.”

“You’ll sleep well in our magic bed,” Robert had said, demonstrating the bedroom. “Some little inventions of my own. Turn this and that hand comes down from the ceiling and rubs your back until you get drowsy. This one activates the pillow-puncher, which punches up and turns your pillows to the cool side while you sleep. Here’s your blanket-returner, when it slips off during the night, and your sheet straightener, if you’re one of those tossers and turners who get the bottom one full of wrinkles. Your alarm is vocal, of course. I’ll set it for you. It says, ‘Sorry, time to get up’ and you have four variations on the dial: whisper, murmur, firm tone, or an irritable shout.”

During all this Mopsy had trotted along behind muttering to himself, sniffing suspiciously at everything and giving little yelps of alarm when things suddenly jumped out from walls or cabinets, or drinks popped up mysteriously out of the arms of drawing-room chairs.

Having had a bath, changed his clothes and submitted to the ministrations of the bathroom chair, Adam was now rested, fresh, tidy and ready for dinner later. He said to Mopsy, “How about you? A little clean up wouldn’t hurt you, either.”

“What, me get up into that thing?” Mopsy replied. “Thank you for nothing! I wouldn’t mind you running a comb through me and maybe giving my face a bit of a wash, but all this funny business upsets me. I like a house to behave like a house and not like a midway. I wish we were staying at a hotel.”

“Well, we’re not,” Adam said, “and I’ll thank
you
to be more polite and mind your manners, particularly at dinner. It’s a great honor to have been asked to stay by the Chief Magician, Mayor and Head of the Guild of Master Magicians.”

“That old fraud!” Mopsy replied. “Honestly, Adam, can’t you see what he’s up to, taking us all over his house and explaining everything?”

“It seemed to me most kind and hospitable.”

“Ha-ha!” scoffed Mopsy. “Kind and hospitable! He’s just getting ready to ask
you
to tell him the secret of your tricks in return.”

“Well, what’s wrong with that?” Adam demanded. “If he asks me, I shall.”

“Adam, please don’t.” The dog had become suddenly serious and getting up on his hind legs he placed a paw on his master’s knee. Some of the hair had fallen away from his face to show his eyes filled with love and concern.

“But Mopsy, old fellow, what’s wrong? Why not?” Adam said.

“I don’t know,” Mopsy replied, “but there’s something funny going on somewhere. I can’t just say what it is, but sometimes dogs often feel things that people don’t—in their whiskers, or down at the ends of their spines, where their tails begin. I wish now you hadn’t done that egg trick. That’s when the trouble started.”

“But there isn’t any trouble, Mopsy, everything is going beautifully.”

“Then why have I got that funny sensation?”

“Mopsy,” sighed Adam, “you’re incorrigible. You simply mustn’t be so suspicious of everything and everyone.” Sometimes he wondered whether he had been wise to teach Mopsy to talk. Other people with dogs sometimes never understood what their animals were feeling or thinking except when they were hungry, or wanted to go out or come in. But Mopsy, having learned to express himself, did not hesitate to do so. Hence, he was often a bit of a problem. “Come on,” said Adam aloud, “cheer up. We’ll go for a little walk together before dinner and get some air.”