Arcane Wisdome

by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro

  “Right,” said Niki, an edge in her voice that surprised Lucy.

  Tom glowered at the screen. “Anything’s worth a try,” he said as if addressing the shifting display of numbers.

  “Want to use my laptop?" Curtis offered.

  “Probably have to,” said Tom. He sighed and reached down to turn off the power source for his whole system.

  The screen went dark but for a single 5 that remained glowing for several seconds before it faded to black.

  “That was just weird,” said Spencer.

  “Yeah,” Ben agreed.

  But Lucy didn’t think it was weird, she thought it was the curse setting itself for another go at the computer.

  * * *

  “Ditch Day on Friday,” said Melinda as Lucy came down to breakfast the following morning.

  “Um,” said Lucy.

  “Have you decided what you’re going to wear?" Melinda asked, shaking her head at Jason and Jacob who were making hugging-and-kissing gestures.

  “You’re looking forward to it, aren’t you?" her father asked as he slid another omelet out of the pan and onto a plate which he held out to Jason.

  “I guess,” said Lucy; she was feeling nervous about her counter-spell — Friday seemed a long way off.

  Apparently Melinda saw that Lucy was uncomfortable talking about Ditch Day, and so instead of pursuing the matter, she asked, “What’s on your agenda today?”

  “I’ve got to finish my Spanish project. And I’m going over to the Foster’s place in a little while." She glanced at her father. “Not for very long. There’s something I’m trying out with them. For Cyber science class.”

  “See you don’t stay too long,” her father said. “What kind of omelet do you want?”

  “Hey, what about me?" Jacob demanded.

  “You’re next,” his father assured him.

  Lucy asked, “Do you have pico de gallo?”

  “Made fresh, out of the garden this morning,” her father told her, gesturing to a bowl of chopped tomatoes, peppers, and onions with cilantro. “A spoonful enough for you?”

  Nodding, Lucy said, “That and some cheese would be great." She did her best to offer him a broad smile.

  “Okay." He poured in the whipped eggs and reached for the pico de gallo, spreading the vegetables over the yellow surface of the eggs.

  “Have you thought any more about summer vacation? Do you want to come with us to Almanor?" Melinda asked.

  “I don’t know yet. Maybe." She got up and went to the refrigerator for some cranberry juice.

  “We have to make reservations shortly,” said her father.

  “I know,” said Lucy, sitting down and filling her glass.

  “Grandmother Doris would like you to visit for a week, if you can,” her father persisted.

  “Yeah, Okay."

  He folded her omelet expertly. “The twins are going in August. She thought you might like to come in July.”

  “Late July?" Lucy suggested.

  “Why don’t you call her and ask her?” Melinda suggested.

  “Okay. I’ll call tonight,” Lucy promised, and reached for the plate her father handed to her, the omelet steaming enticingly. “Thanks, Dad.”

  15

  Ben was waiting for Lucy outside the Office Depot on Sacramento Avenue, just over four blocks from the Foster house; he had on faded jeans and a loose linen shirt, accommodating the first seriously warm day of the season. It was a quarter to ten, and the store had only been open for fifteen minutes. “Hi,” he said as Lucy came up to him. There was a small bandage on his chin where he had cut himself shaving. He held up his hand in greeting. “I got your message”

  “Hi,” Lucy said, starting for the door. “You been waiting long?”

  “Maybe five minutes,” said Ben, shrugging it off.

  As Lucy stepped into the store, she said, “Thanks for meeting me. This won’t take long." She had worn her embroidered leggings — black flowers on sand-washed blue — and a loose chambray shirt; her wallet-on-a-string was slung across her torso, her strawberry-blonde hair was held back with a turquoise scarf, and she wore trendy sunglasses. She had left her tote at home. If there was any discordant note in her appearance it was the hint of a frown between her brows.

  “Are you sure we need candles?" he asked, pointing to the Walgreens bag she carried.

  “And salt,” Lucy told him, patting the bag. “Where do they keep the banner paper?”

  Ben pointed to the aisle. “It comes in ten foot, twelve foot, and twenty foot lengths; white, yellow, pink, and blue.”

  “We should probably get three twenty-foot lengths, Maybe four. It needs to go all around the inside of the garage, including the doors,” she said, paying no attention to the doubt in his eyes. “In white. And a couple of really wide felt-tip markers. In black." She frowned. ‘How big would you say the garage is?”

  “Fifteen by maybe twenty-eight, give or take." Ben shrugged. “That’s eighty-six feet, more or less.”

  “Then four twenty-footers and one ten-footer,” Lucy decided aloud. She tucked her sunglasses into the neck of her top.

  “Okay,” Ben said, and moved ahead of her to point out what she sought.

  “You sure you need this to do the counter-spell?" He said this last as if they were words he had never heard before.

  “It’s in the books on math and magic.”

  Ben sighed. “Math and magic. You say it’s Arabic?”

  “And Persian. The spells are based on using numbers with specific meanings that are tied to the magic. You put the numbers in a certain order and you’re issuing orders to the universe." She picked up a plastic shopping basket. “I know how totally ozwonked it sounds. I wouldn’t have told you — or the Geeks — about it if I could have found another way to explain it, but I just couldn’t.”

  Ben stopped walking. “Hey, I’m a gamer, not a geek. I’m willing to accept the model of mathematical magic as the rules of the game.”

  Lucy smiled as relief washed over her. “Oh. I hadn’t thought of it that way. Thanks.”

  “You’re a strange wonk" Ben gave her a thumbs-up. “A lot of girls wouldn’t be willing to bring up magic to the Geeks.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “You know how the Geeks are about logic. Everything has to fit in their concepts of rationality; they pride themselves on it. They’re resisting the whole idea of magic." He sounded genuinely sympathetic.

  “But you’re not,” said Lucy.

  “Of course not — games,” he explained.

  “I figured that out," Lucy said drily. “But I don’t want to lie about what I’m doing. That’d put everything on the wrong footing. It’s too complicated. I’m trying to use the material respectfully, so I’ll do it all the way the book says until I find out it doesn’t work.”

  “You know, it really does sound like game-theory to me.”

  “Maybe it is,” said Lucy as she plucked three packages of banner paper from the shelf and handed it to Ben.

  Ben still looked dubious. “I know we’ve talked about this, but you gotta admit it’s a pretty ozwonked idea.”

  “Only if it’s wrong,” said Lucy, and went looking for felt-tip markers.

  * * *

  “You’re kidding, right?" Spencer exclaimed as he looked at the banner paper stacked up on the central table. Today he was in a desert camouflage shirt over his tawny cargo pants with bulging pockets. “You think that one group of numbers will get rid of another group of numbers because of magic in the numbers?”

  “No. I’m not kidding,” said Lucy,

  “Because you think numbers will get rid of some kind of evil magic that’s possessing the computer,” Tom said flatly.

  “That’s pretty much it,” Lucy replied, her nerve almost failing her. Now that she was trying to explain what she thought they should do, it sounded uber-wonked, even to her.

  “Just let me make sure I’ve zogged it. You want us to write this sequence of numbers on thi
s banner paper and then put it up around the walls?" Tom reached out and patted the unfinished particleboard wall. Before him his computer screen was black. “Really?”

  “Yes,” said Lucy. “I want you to do that.”

  “For protection,” said Curtis dubiously. “You think we need protection from something out there?" He was in what he called his ninja gear today: black exercise leggings and a black-canvas tunic with special black gym shoes to complete the picture.

  “And numbers will make a difference?" Aaron scoffed. “Why these numbers in particular, or is there a reason?”

  “To give the ... the spell a boost,” said Ben. “If this were a game, you wouldn’t hesitate. So think of it as a game, if it makes it easier.”

  Spencer gave a snort of disbelief.

  Gweneth nodded. “Okay. It’s some kind of mathematical game. I’m willing to give it a try. At least we’ll all know the numbers we need to set the new firewall at the end of it. Hand me a marker." Today she had on a scoop neck, long-sleeved black top shot with glistening dark-red thread and she wore burgundy pants and strappy sandals.

  Aaron came away from the coffee maker. “Is there another marker?" He rubbed the front of his old rumpled black t-shirt.

  “I got five of them,” said Lucy.

  Spencer swore but picked up a marker. “Give me the short one,” he grumbled, shoving a stack of magazines aside to make room to write on the central table. He muttered something under his breath.

  “How large do we make the numbers?" Gweneth asked.

  “Maybe seven inches high, or a little higher,” said Lucy, hoping this was big enough. “Nothing fancy. Just write them down with a small space between each sequence."

  “Okay,” said Gweneth, and opened one of the twenty-foot banners. “What’s the sequence?”

  “Eight, four, two, seven, nine, six, zero, eight,” said Lucy. She handed a sheet of paper with the numbers on it. “Don’t get them out of order. Eight, four, two, seven, nine, six, zero, eight. That’s really important. And write them clearly: no eights that look like fives, and no sevens that look like ones, okay?”

  “And do I counter the number-sequences on the screen with those numbers?" Tom asked.

  “Replace each number as it comes, if you can, or in a cluster,” said Ben.

  “And don’t turn it on until we have tacked the banners up,” said Lucy. “I’m going to set up a couple of things.”

  “More magic?" Tom sounded incredulous.

  “Just doing the game rules,” said Ben. “Think of it like rolling dice.”

  “Oh, that uber-helps,” said Spencer even as he began to write large numbers on his ten-foot length of banner.

  “You’ll be able to slow the scroll down if this is in place,” said Lucy, hoping it was so. According to what she had read during the night, just the presence of these numbers would be enough to lessen the power of the curse contained in the computer.

  “I’d change your password to 84twoseven9608, or eight4two7nine6zero8,” said Ben to Tom, spelling out the words. “Or vary it any way you like. Just get those numbers onto the hard-drive and back-up.”

  “You’re really buying this, aren’t you?" Aaron marveled. He poured himself a cup of coffee and made a show of drinking it.

  “The back-up’s fried,” said Tom.

  “I’m gonna pick up a new one tomorrow,” said Curtis, whose father owned a large electronics store. “Maybe I’ll get two, just in case.”

  “Sounds like a plan to me,” said Aaron at his most sarcastic. “Close that barn door after the horses have run off.”

  Gweneth looked up from the banner and her work. “Can I come by and have a look at the new laptops?"

  “Sure,” said Curtis.

  Gweneth resumed writing numbers, saying only, “Cool." She and Spencer were working steadily, not so quickly that they made errors, but not slowly either. Lucy joined them, writing the numbers carefully and clearly. In a few minutes Spencer was done with his part of the banner, so he put the cap on the marker and flung it onto the table.

  A sound like the boiling of a pot rumbled in the garage.

  “Where’s that coming from?" Aaron asked, looking about, more annoyed than dismayed.

  Tom was shaking his head in disbelief. “I think it’s the computer. The desktop.”

  “But it’s off,” said Spencer.

  “Yeah,” Tom agreed. “I know.”

  For a long moment everyone in the garage held their breaths, then resumed their tasks.

  Ben glanced at Lucy. “You have any ideas?— about that sound?”

  Lucy shook her head and began to write faster.

  Gweneth stopped working for almost a minute. “It can’t be coming from the computer.”

  “Well, it sure sounds like it is,” said Curtis, leaning down in his chair and putting his head next to the desktop tower; the noise got a little louder.

  “What’s wrong?" Tom asked.

  “I don’t know,” Curtis admitted as he straightened up, then rose from his chair and went to help write numbers on banners.

  The noise from the computer continued until it sounded like a large hive of angry bees.

  “You could unplug it — it’s off,” Spencer suggested.

  Tom shook his head slowly. “Don’t think so.”

  “O-kay,” said Spencer, and resumed writing.

  A cold sliver of air insinuated itself through the garage.

  “This is ozwonked, you know?" Aaron said, staring at the four people at the central table. He did his best to remain in the most shadowed part of the garage, as if he wanted to be invisible. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Nothing about this does,” said Spencer.

  “No, it doesn’t make logical sense, but I’ll do it if it means we can get back to work,” said Curtis, and cleared the screen of his laptop so he could change the password to 8fourtwo79six08, and set up a search/replace to change 59524815 to 84279608. “I feel so zonkers. This is uber-weird." He watched the screen anxiously, waiting to see what would happen next.

  “Don’t talk about it,” Spencer growled.

  “Me, too,” said Lucy, and went on writing.

  “Is anyone chilly?" Gweneth asked, and got no answer.

  16

  Fifteen minutes later the banners were tacked up around the walls, forming a complete enclosure of the garage.

  “I just hope my dad doesn’t see this,” said Tom, scowling at the banner.

  “I think it looks kind of festive,” said Gweneth, amusement making her eyes sparkle.

  Spencer muttered something. Curtis laughed ironically. Aaron kept quiet.

  “Do you have four paper plates I can use?" Lucy asked Tom, trying to keep the tension out of her voice.

  “Next to the cups,” said Tom, trying not to sound curious.

  Lucy took the small bag of salt from her plastic shopping bag and proceeded to pour a thin film of salt into four of the paper plates that Ben set out on the counter for her.

  “What’s that for?" Spencer asked.

  This was a question Lucy was prepared for. “Grounding,” she told him.

  “Hoo-boy,” said Spencer as if he were dealing with a dangerous lunatic and was determined to humor her.

  “What’s it gonna hurt?" Ben asked in his most reasonable tone.

  “Who knows." Curtis watched in fascination as Lucy put down the paper plates: one in front of the side door, one in front of the elevating garage door, one under the window in the wall behind the computer counter, and one on the central table, directly beneath the skylight.

  “Anything more?" Tom asked sardonically.

  “Candles,” said Lucy, doing her best to focus on her task and not on the growing incredulity around her.

  “You do anything like this in your games?" Gweneth asked Ben.

  “Sure — metaphorically." He handed Lucy the small box of matches she had given him.

  Spencer rubbed his arms. “Is anyone else getting cold?”


  There were murmurs of assent; the garage was indeed becoming chilly, for all the day was warming up outside.

  “This is uber-ozwonked,” said Aaron, hurriedly refilling his coffee cup. “Why did any of us agree to do this?”

  “In for a penny, in for a pound,” said Gweneth, and sat down on the old sofa while she watched Lucy set up the four candles next to the paper plates and their salt.

  “And we’re desperate,” said Curtis.

  Concentrating so she wouldn’t be distracted, Lucy went around the room lighting the two red and two white candles.

  The garage got colder.

  “How do you do that?" Curtis asked.

  “I don’t do it,” said Lucy. “It’s the counter-spell, warming up.”

  “Warming up?" Aaron echoed mordantly.

  “It’s got a dazed way of doing it,” Spencer complained.

  Before this could turn into a wrangle, Ben said, “Ready.”

  “Yeah,” Lucy said, and turned to Tom. “Okay. Start it up, and put in your search/replace as fast as you can.”

  Tom shrugged, then pressed the button to power up his desktop. As soon as the prompt appeared he logged in and entered his password, then set up his search/replace. He rocked back on his chair, watching the cursor flash. For the better part of a minute nothing happened, then a line of numbers formed across the top of the screen, some of the numbers winking as they changed from what they had been to the substitution Tom had made.

  “Holy wonk! Look at that,” Tom said in amazement.

  Curtis scooted his chair over to watch. “That’s ... that’s ... ” He couldn’t find words to describe it.

  Gweneth grinned. “Swee-ee-eet.”

  Ben glanced at Lucy and smiled.

  Aaron sat down on the couch, paying no attention to the computer screen.

  Spencer shook his head in disbelief. “How’d you do that?” he demanded of Lucy.

  “Just followed the directions,” said Lucy, almost as astounded as the others were. She had hoped that the numbers she came up with would slow the numbers down, not bring them to a halt.

  “How’d you know it would work?" Tom asked her.