by Kris Langman
The imps headed toward the center of the courtyard, and Nikki followed, her feet crunching on the white gravel path. They halted at a fountain shaped like a leaping salmon. A jet of water spouted from the mouth of the fish, spraying a fine mist on a group of people gathered around it.
Nikki, in her jeans, sneakers and debate team T-shirt, felt seriously underdressed as she stared at them. The woolen garments of the townspeople were nowhere in sight. The people here were decked out in silks and gleaming satin brocade. The women wore jewels in their hair, and the men had golden chains hanging from their necks. The glory of their finery was a bit diminished, however, as peeking out from under their silks and satins were the same heavy woolen mismatched socks that the townspeople wore.
One man, standing apart from the rest, wore an elaborately sculpted crown of silver topped with an emerald the size of a chicken egg. Nikki guessed that this was the king. He wore a tunic of brilliant sapphire silk worked with fine gold thread, a long dramatic black cloak . . . and mismatched woolen knee socks, one yellow and one Kelly green. The king was deep in conference with an elderly man with a long white beard. The elderly man had bushy, overhanging eyebrows which gave his face a mysterious cast, and was wearing a floor-length robe of deepest purple.
Nikki noticed that the elderly man’s robe was so long that it dragged on the ground, preventing anyone from seeing his feet. She wondered briefly if he was wearing matching socks and was trying to hide that embarrassing fact.
The female imp, Athena, marched up to the king and tugged on the end of his cloak.
“Ah, my ambassadors are back,” said the king. He scooped up Athena and Fuzz and set them on the rim of the white marble basin surrounding the salmon fountain. “Did you find one of the wise?”
Athena nodded, pointing at Nikki, who blushed and wiped a smudge of dust off her T-shirt.
The king strode up to Nikki and took her hand in his, pumping it enthusiastically up and down. “Wonderful. Wonderful. So good of you to come. Welcome to Castle Cogent. We expect great things of you, you know.”
Nikki wasn’t sure how to respond to this. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the elderly man in the long purple robe staring at her. He didn’t look nearly as glad to see her as the king did. In fact, he was positively glaring at her.
The king waved him forward. “This is my most trusted and knowledgeable advisor, Maleficious the Wise. Any help you need on this little problem, you just call on him. He’ll be only too happy to assist.”
Nikki nodded politely at Maleficious, who stared back at her stonily. Nikki cleared her throat. “Um, your majesty, what little problem is this, exactly?”
A look of surprise passed over the king’s face. He glanced down at the imps. “I thought Athena had explained things to you.”
Athena blushed, twisting her hands in her skirt. “We thought that your majesty, who is so eloquent, so articulate, so gifted at the subtleties of speech, could explain much better than we could.”
Nikki thought the imp was laying it on a bit thick, but the king nodded in agreement, a satisfied smile on his face. She noticed that Maleficious was watching the king with amusement. She guessed that the king’s ego was something his advisor found very useful.
“Well,” said the king, “let’s get comfortable while I explain.” He sat down on the marble rim of the fountain and patted the spot next to him. Nikki joined him, with Athena hovering anxiously nearby. Fuzz sat down on the rim of the basin and paddled his bare feet in the water. Maleficious stood a few feet away, glaring down at them all.
“You see, my dear,” the king suddenly paused, looking appalled. “Goodness. You must forgive me. I’ve forgotten to ask your name.”
“My name’s Nikki.”
“Nikki,” repeated the king. “Lovely name. So, Nikki, the reason I sent our two ambassadors to search for you is that our wonderful Realm of Reason is rapidly becoming not so reasonable. For centuries we were the envy of neighboring realms, renowned for our iron-hard grasp of logic, for the hard-headed common sense of our citizens, for the exemplary way we would apply the rules of evidence to all our decisions.” The king paused, frowning. “But lately, we’ve noticed superstition and backwardness creeping up on us, especially in our outer provinces. Reason and rationalism have been abandoned, and the people have adopted all manner of foolery and nonsense.”
“Like the socks,” said Nikki without thinking. She turned red and mentally whacked her forehead. Maybe the mismatched socks were just the fashion here, and besides, the king himself was wearing them.
The king chuckled, not looking in the least offended. “No, my dear, the socks are not foolery. They are the brilliant invention of Maleficious.”
Nikki glanced nervously up at Maleficious, who smiled coldly at her. “Er, invention?” she asked.
The king nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, they are truly a breakthrough. Mismatched socks. Who would have thought they were such miracle workers. I don’t know how Maleficious manages to think of these things. The mysteries of genius are impenetrable.”
“But,” said Nikki, “what exactly do the socks do?”
“Better to ask what don’t they do,” said the king, stretching his legs out in front of him and picking a miniscule speck of dirt off of his Kelly green sock. “They cure colds, dissolve warts, heal rashes of all sorts, abolish acne, soothe stomach upsets, and that’s just for starters.”
“Gosh,” said Nikki, trying to look impressed. Her inner skeptic was jumping up and down so frantically in her brain that she was getting dizzy. “Um, how do they work?”
“Only Maleficious knows, and he’s not telling.” The king winked at Maleficious, whose mouth curved into a pained smile.
“Okay,” said Nikki, watching Maleficious warily, “but, how do you know they work?”
Maleficious glared down at her. “Are you questioning the effectiveness of my discoveries?” His voice was as raspy as a rusty lock. “For I’ve spent many long years perfecting them.”
“No, no,” Nikki said quickly. “I’m not questioning them. Certainly not. I just, um, was inquiring about your methods.”
Maleficious frowned, looking not in the least bit appeased, but he cleared his throat importantly and addressed a spot above Nikki’s head. “As to the question of how I know the socks work, I have collected many responses from sock-wearers as to their efficacy. The wearer has, for instance, a cold. He dons the socks, and in an instant, three to four days at most, his cold has disappeared.”
Nikki wiped the incredulous expression from her face and tried to look respectful. “Colds, you know, can frequently disappear on their own in three to four days.”
Maleficious didn’t look at her. He addressed the spot above her head again. “In the case of rashes or stomach upsets, the person has only to wear the socks for a day and the problem will ease.”
“You have, of course, heard of the placebo effect,” Nikki said cautiously.
Maleficious looked down his long, pointed nose at her.
“The what?” asked the king. “Is this some wondrous technology from your own realm?”
“No,” said Nikki. “It’s just a very common bodily response. My mom told me about it. If people think a certain medicine, or cure, or, in this case, mismatched socks, will help their illness, then frequently it does. At least a little bit. The placebo effect won’t cure serious illness, but for minor complaints such as rashes or colds, it can help the body heal itself. Doctors think it triggers certain chemicals in the brain which then give the immune system a boost.”
The king looked impressed. Maleficious looked livid, his face taking on a dangerously red tint.
Nikki was thinking maybe it was time to find the entrance back through the boiler to her own world, when the king spoke.
“Wonderful stuff. Just wonderful.” He slapped his knee. “So, this placebo effect, this is what has actually been curing the people’s colds, rashes, and other sundry complaints?”
“Maybe,” sa
id Nikki, avoiding Maleficious’ eye. “It’s hard to tell without doing a proper experiment. So far, all you’ve collected is anecdotal evidence, which is a big no-no. You’re putting too much faith in the stories a few people tell you. They could be lying, after all. Or you could be coming to the wrong conclusion, due to lack of evidence.”
Maleficious raised himself to his full height and glared down at her. “Meaning that I, advisor to the king, and the most learned person in the Realm, have come to a false conclusion.”
The king stood up and gave Maleficious a hearty pat on the back. “Not at all my good fellow. Not at all. We all have enormous faith in your abilities. Why, those daisies you had me tuck down my trousers to clear up my hayfever were a stroke of pure genius. I haven’t sneezed in several hours.” He paced back and forth in front of the fountain, kicking up bits of white gravel. “I think, however, this experiment our illustrious guest is proposing is a grand idea. The two of you can work together on it. Really do it up right.”
Maleficious tucked his hands into the voluminous sleeves of his robe. “I must decline, your majesty. I have important work to do back in my study.” He sneered down at Nikki. “I’m sure our guest can handle things on her own.” He spun on his heel and stalked away.
Nikki breathed a sigh of relief as Maleficious disappeared through a door in the castle wall. She turned to the king. “Um, your majesty?”
The king bent toward her, grabbing at his crown as it slid down his forehead. “Yes, my dear?”
“Well,” said Nikki, “I was just wondering how long you wanted me to stay here?”
“Stay here? Oh, you mean stay in the Realm?”
Nikki nodded. “It’s just that I don’t want my mother to worry about me.”
The king patted Nikki’s shoulder. “No need to worry about that. We here in the Realm have occasionally had dealings with other worlds. Through the gateways, you see. They are passageways leading out of the Realm. Athena and Fuzz used one to bring you here. When someone from outside the Realm uses one of these passageways to come here, we have found that no time, no time at all, passes in their world while they are here. So you see, your mother will not even notice that you are gone, no matter how long you stay in the Realm.”
* * * *
“What is the first thing we must do, Miss?” asked Athena.
“Formulate a hypothesis,” said Nikki. She pulled a blank piece of parchment toward her and dipped a goose-feather quill into a pot of black ink. They were seated at a small, wobbly table in the room which the king had assigned to Nikki. The room was in one of the towers of Castle Cogent. It was small but comfortably furnished, with a four-poster bed, tapestries on the stone walls, and a spotlessly clean chamber pot. Nikki eyed the chamber pot nervously, thinking longingly of indoor plumbing. But with adventures came minor inconveniences she told herself firmly.
She chewed on the end of the quill, thinking.
“What’s she doing? Is she wasting time already?” Fuzz climbed onto an empty chair and poked his head over the edge of the table.
“Shhhh!” Athena waved a finger at him. “She’s formulating a hypothesis. Be quiet.”
Nikki took the quill out of her mouth and wrote on the parchment. When she was done the parchment was spotted with ink drops and dribbles. Writing with a quill was harder than it looked. Too bad she didn’t have a ballpoint pen with her. “Okay,” she said. “Here it is. See what you think.” She read from the parchment:
“Hypothesis: the wearing of mismatched socks does not cure or alleviate illness.”
Nikki frowned. “This phrasing means we’ll have to prove a negative: that mismatched socks do not cure illness. It’s usually better to state your hypothesis in positive terms.” She scratched a line through the words on the parchment and wrote a new sentence:
“Hypothesis: the wearing of mismatched socks cures or alleviates illness.”
Athena scurried around to Nikki’s elbow and read the new sentence. “But, Miss,” she said worriedly, “doesn’t this say that we agree with Maleficious?” She shuddered when she said the advisor’s name.
Nikki peered down at her, wondering why the imp seemed to dislike Maleficious so much. Admittedly, she hadn’t taken a shine to the man either, but Athena’s dislike seemed excessive. “Not necessarily,” she said. “A hypothesis is just a starting point. Kind of a guess about how something works. We haven’t formed a final opinion on the matter of mismatched socks yet. For now we’re going to keep an open mind, and use Maleficious’ claim as our starting point. We don’t have to agree with it.”
Athena looked unconvinced, but she nodded.
Nikki re-read the new hypothesis. “I’m going to change this slightly. Maleficious claims that mismatched socks cure illnesses. A very bold statement, which says that the socks banish the illness completely. He doesn’t mention anything about just helping with pain or symptoms.” She dragged her quill across the parchment. “I’ve scratched out the part about alleviating illness. So, here’s our final hypothesis:”
“Hypothesis: the wearing of mismatched socks cures illness.”
“What now, Miss?”
Nikki drew a line across the middle of the page. “Now we plan an experiment to prove our hypothesis true or false. There are a couple of important things to keep in mind here. One is to make sure our sample size is large enough. We must find as many people as possible to be our test subjects. Also, they must be different kinds of people. If I were to use only bakers, for instance, then it’s possible that something about being a baker is actually curing their illnesses. Maybe flour cures colds. Something like that. Our goal must be to use people from many different professions, many different age groups, both genders, etc.” She made a note on the parchment. “Also, I think we’ll limit our illnesses, just to make things easier. Maleficious seems to be claiming that the socks cure any illness, but that would be too hard to test. Maleficious could always claim that our test missed a rare disease which the socks can cure. There’s no way we can test every single disease. We have to narrow it down.” Nikki tried to think back to the conversation around the fountain.
“What illnesses did he list again?” She chewed on the quill. “I remember acne, and rashes. What else?”
“Colds and stomach upsets,” said Fuzz, climbing up onto the table and sitting cross-legged next to the parchment.
“Right.” Nikki wrote those down and studied her list. “To make our test as foolproof as possible I’m going to limit it to just colds. Acne and rashes can take a long time to heal. Colds will go away within roughly a week, making them easier to test. And stomach upsets, well, it may not be very scientific, but I don’t want to get barfed on.”
Fuzz nodded energetically in agreement.
“Okay,” said Nikki. “Since we’re going to limit our testing to colds, I’ll make another small change to our hypothesis.” Her quill scratched across the parchment.
“Hypothesis: the wearing of mismatched socks cures colds.”
“Everybody in agreement?” asked Nikki.
Athena nodded and looked at Fuzz, who was excavating his ear wax with the tip of his little finger. Athena elbowed him in the ribs and he gave a grumpy nod.
“The last thing to keep in mind is objectivity,” said Nikki. “We need to do a blind test.”
“What’s that, Miss?” asked Athena, primly smoothing her skirt out.
“It means that our test subjects can’t know about the test. Or at least they can’t know why we’re doing it. We can’t keep the test completely secret, because we’ll have to ask people questions about their colds, but we don’t have to tell them why we’re asking the questions. It keeps them from falsifying the data. For example, say they’re friends of Maleficious. If we told them we were testing whether or not the socks worked they might be inclined to lie and say yes, even if the socks hadn’t really worked for them. Or, if the test subjects were afraid of Maleficious, they might lie about the socks so that he wouldn’t get mad at them. Ideally,
we’d do a double blind test, where even the testers don’t know the exact details of the test, but I don’t see how that’s going to be possible in this case.”
Nikki drew a grid on the parchment, consisting of two rows and five columns.
“What’s she doing now?” Fuzz whispered to Athena. “It looks like she’s going to play Tic-Tac-Toe. I knew she was a time waster.”
“It’s not Tic-Tac-Toe,” said Nikki. She labeled the rows and columns and turned the parchment so the imps could see it. “The two rows represent our test subjects. We have two types of subjects: people with colds who are wearing mismatched socks, and people with colds who are not wearing the socks. The columns represent the outcomes from our experiment. In column one we’ll record a check mark each time a person’s cold is gone in one day, in column two we’ll put a checkmark each time the cold is gone in two days, and so on. I’m running out of space on this parchment. Do you have any more?”
“Yes, Miss. One moment.” Athena hopped down from the table and pattered over to a carved wooden chest on the floor at the foot of the bed. She shoved open the creaking lid and dived into the chest, emerging with a roll of parchment.
Nikki reached down and scooped up the imp and her burden. “Thanks, Athena.” Nikki tore two sheets off the roll. “I’m just going to make a copy of this grid for each of you. That way we can split up and collect a lot more data.”
“Well, the socks must work, because Maleficious said so.” The farmer spat on the ground and wiped his runny nose on his sleeve for good measure. “He’s the big poobah ’round these parts. King’s special pal and all that. He must know what he’s talking about.”
Nikki raised an eyebrow. “Have you heard of the logical fallacy called Appeal to Authority?”
“Logical What? Honey, I got a corn crop to get in the barn. Every year. And a wheat crop too. I ain’t got time for no book-learning stuff like logical thing-a-ma-gigs.”
“Appeal to Authority just means that you’re assuming Maleficious is always right about everything. You never question him.”
