by Scott Meyer
Also by Scott Meyer
MAGIC 2.0 SERIES
Off to Be the Wizard
Spell or High Water
A COLLECTION OF BASIC INSTRUCTIONS
Help Is on the Way
Made with 90% Recycled Art
The Curse of the Masking-Tape Mummy
Dignified Hedonism
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2015 by Scott Meyer
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by 47North, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and 47North are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781477821404
ISBN-10: 1477821406
Cover design by inkd
Library of Congress Control Number: 2014948928
CONTENTS
START READING
PROLOGUE
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
The following is intended to be a fun, comedic sci-fi/fantasy novel. Any similarity between the events described and how reality actually works is purely coincidental.
PROLOGUE
It was a momentous day in Camelot. Not as momentous as the day a time-traveling computer enthusiast named Phillip showed up, called himself a wizard, and demonstrated the ability to do what appeared to be genuine magic. Not as momentous as the day another wizard calling himself Merlin talked the king into changing his oldest son’s name to Arthur, and the city of London’s name to Camelot. Certainly not as momentous as the day construction of the monstrously huge, gold-plated castle at the heart of Camelot had been completed.
All of these things were made possible by a computer file that Phillip, Merlin (or, as he was originally known, and would be known again one day, Jimmy), and all of the other wizards had found. The file proved that reality was merely an artificial construct controlled by a computer program. Manipulating this file allowed one to manipulate reality itself, travel in time, and create things that were, in a word, magical. Things like the initiation of a new wizard, which was the particular momentous event scheduled for this day.
What nobody knew was that this would also be the day that the wizards of Camelot first found reason to expel a wizard and exile him back to his own time. It was, as we’ve established, a momentous day.
Every wizard in Europe was gathered in the main ceremonial hall of the castle Camelot, eating good food that was bad for them, drinking very good drinks that were very bad for them, and generally enjoying themselves, because that was how the initiation ceremony worked. Besides, the powers they gained from their use of the computer file ensured that the food and drinks couldn’t really hurt them, which made the party all the more enjoyable.
Twenty or so wizards sat around a table that would have filled any reasonably sized room, but which was almost lost in the vastness of the great hall. The hall was a cavernous expanse of polished marble and gold. The wizards all wore flowing robes and pointed hats. Most of them had staffs leaning against the table or lying on the floor behind them. A few had wands. Every group has its nonconformists. All of them, regardless of their personal magical-prop preference, were just finishing their meals.
“So, Gary, how’d you enjoy having an apprentice?” Phillip asked, before taking a swig of beer from his large earthenware stein.
Gary winced, which was funny, because that was exactly how most of the people who knew Gary had reacted when they heard it was his turn to train an apprentice.
“I dunno,” Gary said. “It was cool, I guess.”
Gary lapsed into a silence that begged those who heard it to ask for more detail. Phillip responded with a silence that invited Gary to keep talking.
“We, uh, we didn’t really hit it off,” Gary continued, shaking his head. He was a tall, spindly man with limp black hair and a limp black robe. When he shook his head, the ends of his hair waved like the tassels on the dress of a flapper dancing at a funeral.
Tyler asked, “What do you mean? Did you fight?”
Tyler and Jeff were the other two members of the contingent from the small town of Leadchurch. Tyler was one of the few black men who had ever found the file and used it to go to Medieval England instead of, say, ancient Morocco. Jeff was a slightly built man with black hair and a brilliant mind. He had been a successful engineer before finding the file. Jeff and Tyler were good friends with Phillip, and even better friends with Gary. They usually spent a great deal of time hanging around with Gary, because he was fun, and his place was something of a party house, or in his case, a party skull-shaped cave. They had deliberately kept their distance since Gary had been assigned his trainee.
“We didn’t fight. Nothing like that,” Gary said. He looked to the far end of the table. The trainee being initiated was sitting at the head of the table being lightly brainwashed by the chairman of the wizards, Merlin, as was also the custom. The Leadchurch wizards were sitting at the far end of the banquet table, and Phillip was taking periodic breaks from the conversation to glare at Merlin, his face a mask of loathing and scorn. Again, this was the custom.
“It’s just . . .” Gary struggled, “our senses of humor didn’t really mesh.”
Jeff said, “So he didn’t think you were funny. Big deal. Neither do I, most of the time.”
“No,” Gary said, “it’s not that he didn’t think I was funny. It’s that he thought I was funny at the wrong times. If I said or did something I thought was funny, it would just confuse him, but occasionally I’d say something serious and it would make him laugh.”
“For example?” Phillip asked.
“When I told him that we could make it so we didn’t need air or water, but we couldn’t figure out how to not feel like we need them, he thought that was the funniest thing ever. I told him it would be horrible, and he said, ‘So we don’t do it to ourselves. Just save it for someone else.’ He even wrote up a quick macro, just to prove it could be done. It makes you invisible too. He called it ghosting.”
“I can see how that would make you uncomfortable,” Phillip said.
Gary said, “I know, right?”
“Well, I wouldn’t worry,” Tyler said. “It wouldn’t work.”
Phillip looked to the end of the table. Jimmy (everyone called him Merlin, but to Phillip he’d always be Jimmy, or that jackass Jimmy, if he was feeling particularly honest) was leaning toward the trainee, smiling broadly and chuckling as he said something Phillip was certain wasn’t funny. The trainee had dark brown hair and a face that was mostly nose. H
e wore a brand new chocolate-brown robe. His staff, a varnished piece of wood as straight as a tent pole, topped with what appeared to be a red mushroom with white dots on the cap, leaned against the table. The trainee looked on impassively as that jackass Jimmy laughed out loud and slapped the trainee on the shoulder.
“What’s his name again?” Phillip asked.
“Todd,” Gary answered.
“Where’s he from?”
“Phoenix, Arizona. 2005.”
“Where’d he find the file?” Tyler asked.
“He never said,” Gary answered with a shrug.
“What do you mean, ‘He never said’?” Jeff asked.
“When I say ‘He never said,’ what I mean is that he, Todd, never said. I can’t break it down any farther than that.”
“Yeah,” Jeff said, rolling his eyes. “I get that, but didn’t you ask? How could you spend nearly a month training the guy and never ask?”
“I never said I didn’t ask,” Gary explained. “I didn’t say I never asked. I didn’t never ask. I never didn’t ask.”
“Are you saying that you asked?” Jeff asked.
Gary said, “I asked every day. I asked where he found the file. I asked why he’d come here. I asked if he’d gotten in trouble back in his time. Hell, I asked what he did for a living. All I ever got out of him was that he was from Phoenix, from the year 2005. After that, he’d change the subject. Eventually, I figured my job was to train him, not to write his biography.”
Phillip looked back to the far end of the table. Todd was giggling. Jimmy looked confused and shared a look with his assistant, Eddie, who looked uncomfortable. Jimmy glanced down to Phillip’s end of the table. Phillip quickly looked away. He didn’t want Jimmy to see him looking. Phillip would be mortified if Jimmy thought that Phillip cared what Jimmy thought.
“What kind of things made him laugh?” Phillip asked.
Gary said, “Weird stuff. Things you wouldn’t expect. I told him all about all the pranks you can pull on people using teleportation and conjuring spells, and he just sat there. Then I told him about the spells we aren’t allowed to do, body modification, you know, the dangerous stuff. I dunno, I guess something about the way I described it just struck him funny.”
Phillip looked back to the head of the table. Jimmy’s assistant, Eddie, was talking. Like his boss, Eddie had adopted a fake name to live under as a wizard, but Phillip was willing to give him a pass. Eddie was the only Asian wizard in Europe, so he wore a red and gold robe and worked under the name “Wing Po, the mysterious wizard from the Orient.” At this point in history, people didn’t know how to react to “Eddie, the mysterious wizard from the Orient.” They already had difficulty dealing with Eddie’s thick New Jersey accent.
Eddie was smiling broadly, talking to Todd, the trainee, who was staring back at him, expressionless. Jimmy was looking at Phillip’s end of the table, staring at Gary as if trying to get his attention. Jimmy gave up on Gary and looked directly at Phillip. There was something in Jimmy’s expression that kept Phillip from looking away.
Phillip had felt a little unsettled. Jimmy looked uncomfortable. Phillip had never seen that before, and that made him feel a whole lot unsettled.
Phillip thought for a moment, then asked Gary, “Say, what’s Todd doing for his macro?”
A macro is a sort of simple program, often used by computer experts to trigger a series of commands with one keystroke. Since the wizards of Camelot’s powers were derived from computer code, they used macros to create complex magical effects designed to impress other wizards and freak out the locals.
“I dunno,” Gary answered. “He wouldn’t tell me anything. I figured I’d let him have his surprise. He seemed excited about it. I think it might be something kinda public. He asked a lot of questions about the locals.”
Phillip returned his attention to the head of the table. Todd was laughing heartily at something. Both Jimmy and Eddie were looking at Phillip. Jimmy glanced at Todd, then back to Phillip, raising his eyebrows as if to ask a question. Phillip didn’t know what the question was, and certainly didn’t know the answer, so he shrugged, ending the three-way nonverbal conversation that had only really communicated the fact that none of them knew what was going on.
Jimmy frowned and said something to Todd, who stopped laughing and sat up straight. Jimmy stood and cleared his throat. Slowly, all of the wizards stopped talking.
Jimmy spread his arms wide, the gold trim on his jade-green robe glowing in the candlelight. He said, “Well, friends, I hope you’ve all enjoyed your meal.” There were nods and a murmur of assent.
Phillip said, “I enjoyed it too,” intimating that he was not Jimmy’s friend. It wasn’t a very good heckle, not up to Phillip’s usual standards. For some reason, his heart wasn’t in it.
Jimmy smirked and continued, a bit more confidently than before. Phillip’s hostility had put him back on familiar footing. “As you all know, we are here to celebrate the arrival of a new wizard: Todd. He has been studying with Gary, and tomorrow he faces the trials.”
They all smiled at this. Everyone at the table except Todd knew that the trials were a sham, and that the real test was already under way. After living and training with a wizard for a few weeks, the initiate spent the evening making dinner conversation with Jimmy; then he would be asked to say a few words and perform an original piece of magic: his macro. Most of the wizards’ powers were derived from a shell program Jimmy and Phillip had written many years ago, which made manipulating the file that controlled reality easier and safer. The trainee’s macro would usually consist of several of the effects already written into the shell strung together by a simple program, and would give the other wizards an idea of what kind of magic they could expect from the new wizard in the future. After all of that, everybody would reconvene without the trainee and take a vote. It was a formality. Until this night, nobody had ever been rejected. The next morning, they’d do everything they could to make the trainee nervous, let him in on the joke, then do everything they could to make the new wizard drunk.
Jimmy continued. “As is our custom, Todd will now say a few words; then he will show us all his macro.”
Jimmy sat down. Todd took a deep breath, then stood and addressed the group. He was not a large man, nor was he good-looking. That said, it was difficult to take your eyes off him. Later, Phillip would decide it was his eyes. Something about his eyes drew your attention to them. It was difficult not to look at them, much like when talking to a police officer, it is difficult not to keep glancing at his gun.
“I am not a guy who makes friends easily,” Todd began.
This was an excellent way to start. One didn’t find oneself at this table without first stumbling across a very well hidden computer file, and that meant spending a lot of time poking around on computers. People don’t often spend lots of time poking around computers at parties. Everyone listening could have said the same thing about himself. Heads silently nodded, almost involuntarily, at Todd’s confession.
Todd continued. “Knowing what I know now, what we all know about how the world really works, I’m glad I didn’t try.”
All around the table, silently, heads stopped nodding. Several turned slightly to the side.
“Because now, I find myself here,” Todd said, “with all of you. You’ve all been very kind, and made me feel so welcome.”
This set the audience at ease. Phillip could feel the room relax.
Todd smiled. “I feel very much at home here, with you all. I can’t imagine how terrible I would feel if you all turned on me, like all the others have.” His mood seemed to darken, as did everyone else’s.
“But I hope that doesn’t happen,” Todd said. “That would be unfortunate.”
After a long silence, Jimmy stood, clapping his hands. “Right,” he said, with strained good cheer. “And now, Todd, please show us your macr
o.”
Todd instantly brightened. He left his spot at the head of the table and walked to the empty area off to the side. The half of the group sitting closest to him turned so as to easily watch the show. The hall was vast, a hundred feet tall and a hundred yards long. It was more than large enough for anything Todd may have had planned, but he stayed relatively close, only moving about twenty feet away from the table.
“I know,” Todd said, “that most of you use your macro as kind of a greeting. You pull it out when you meet someone new to demonstrate your power. I hear that usually means lots of fire and smoke and flying around.”
A wave of good-natured laughter rippled around the table, as if the group were collectively saying “Guilty as charged.”
Todd smiled and laughed, but there was no mirth in it. It was the laugh of a man who heard your joke and thought it was funny that you were dumb enough to think he’d find it funny.
“That doesn’t really demonstrate any power, does it?” Todd asked. “No. I mean, sure, it shows that you have power, but it doesn’t show what that power is, you know? It proves nothing. It’s like a really cool explosion. Sure, the fireball and the big noise get your attention, but really, it’s the crater and the destroyed day-care center that leave an impression.”
The wizards listening knew what his words meant but didn’t know what to make of what he’d said.
Todd continued. “I’m doing something different. My macro doesn’t hint at my power with something big and showy. It demonstrates it clearly with something small, but unmistakable.” Todd waved his staff over the empty marble floor beside him and said, “Unray acromay.”
Pig latin, Phillip thought. Not a promising start.
There was an explosion that created a bright flash, a hollow sound, and a smallish mushroom cloud of dingy smoke. When the cloud dissipated, Todd was standing next to a blue plastic tarp, which was obviously draped over a large human form.
Todd giggled and rubbed his hands together. He reached down and grabbed one corner of the tarp with his free hand and held his mushroom staff aloft with the other.
