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Harris. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + + + .center {text-align: center;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 6em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .tnote {border: solid 1px; padding: 0.5em;} + .figdrop {float: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: .1em; margin-top: 0; + margin-right: .75em; padding: 0;} + .cap {text-indent: -.5em;} + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Wizard, by +Laurence Mark Janifer (AKA Larry M. Harris) + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Wizard + +Author: Laurence Mark Janifer (AKA Larry M. Harris) + +Release Date: January 21, 2008 [EBook #24375] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WIZARD *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Greg Bergquist, Bruce Albrecht and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<div class="tnote"><p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Astounding Science +Fiction May 1960. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that +the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor typographical +errors have been corrected without note.]</p></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h1>WIZARD.</h1> + +<h2>By Larry M. Harris</h2> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Although the Masquerade itself, as +a necessary protection against non-telepaths, +was not fully formulated +until the late years of the Seventeenth +Century, groups of telepaths-in-hiding +existed long before that date. +Whether such groups were the results +of natural mutations, or whether +they came into being due to some +other cause, has not yet been fully +determined, but that a group did exist +in the district of Offenburg, in what +is now Prussia, we are quite sure. +The activities of the group appear to +have begun, approximately, in the +year 1594, but it was not until eleven +years after that date that they achieved +a signal triumph, the first and +perhaps the last of its kind until the +dissolution of the Masquerade in +2103.</i></p> + +<p>—Excerpt from "A Short History +of the Masquerade," by A. Milge, +Crystal 704-54-368, Produced 2440.</p></div> + +<div class="figdrop"> +<img src="images/001a.png" width="80" height="77" alt="J" title="J" /> +</div> + +<p class="cap">onas came over the hill +whistling as if he had +not a care in the world—which +was not even +approximately true, he +reflected happily. The state of complete +and utter quiet was both foreign +and slightly repugnant to him; he +was never more pleased than when +he had a job in hand, a job that involved +a slight and unavoidable risk.</p> + +<p>This time, of course, the risk was +more than slight. Why, he thought +happily, it was even possible for him +to get killed, and most painfully, too! +With a great deal of pleasure, he +stood for a second at the crest of the +hill, his hands on his hips, looking +down at the town of Speyer as it +baked in the May afternoon sunlight.</p> + + +<div class="figright" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/image1a.jpg" width="400" height="620" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<i>"Behold the Tortoise: He maketh +no progress unless he sticketh out +his neck." But he maketh very +little progress unless he pick the +right time and place to "sticketh +out his neck"—which can +be quite a sticky problem for +a man in a medieval culture!</i></p></div> + +<h4>Illustrated by Schoenherr</h4> + +<p>Jonas did not, in spite of his pose, +look like the typical hero of folk +tale or scribe's tome; he was not +seven feet tall, for instance, nor did +he have a handsome, lovesome face +with flashing blue eyes, or a broad-shouldered, +narrow-waisted marvel of +a figure. He was, instead, somewhat +shorter than the average of men in +Europe in 1605 and for some time +thereafter. He had small, almost hidden +eyes that seemed to see a great +deal, but failed completely to make +a fuss about the fact. And while his +figure was just a trifle dumpy, his +face completed the rhyme by being +extraordinarily lumpy. The nose, as +a matter of strict truth, was hard to +distinguish from the other contusions, +swellings and marks that covered the +head.</p> + +<p>Nor, of course, did he carry the +sword of a great hero, or a noble. +Jonas had no <i>von</i> to stick on his +name, and he had never thought it +worth his while to claim one and +accept the tiny risk of disclosure. +After all, a noble was only a man +like other men.</p> + +<p>And, besides, Jonas knew perfectly +well that he had no need of a sword.</p> + +<p>His adventures, too, were a little +out of the common run of tales. Jonas +had, he thought regretfully, few duels +to look forward to, and he had even +fewer to look back on. And, as a +maid is won by face, figure and daring, +and a wife by riches, position +or prospects, there was a notable paucity +of lissome ladies in Jonas' career.</p> + +<p>All in all, he thought sadly, he was +not a <i>usual</i> hero.</p> + +<p>But he refused to let the thought +spoil his enjoyment. After all, he was +a hero, though of his own unique +kind; there was no denying that. +And, in his own way, he had his +reward. He took one hand off his +hip to scratch at the top of his head, +wondering briefly if he had managed +to pick up lice in the last town he +had visited, and he took another look +at the city.</p> + +<p>Speyer seemed a lot better, at first +glance, than some of the other places +Jonas had visited. For one thing, it +had a full town hall, built—no less—of +honest stone, and probably a relict +of the Roman times. There was the +parish church, of course, a good solid +wooden structure, and a collection of +houses strung along the dirt paths of +the town. The houses of the rich +were, naturally, wooden; the poor +built of baked mud. There were a +great many baked-mud structures, and +only one wooden one, besides the +church, that Jonas could see.</p> + +<p>The paths were winding, but comparatively +free from slop. That was +pleasing, he told himself. And the +buildings themselves, wood, mud and +stone, clustered in the valley below +him as if they were afraid, and needed +each other's protection.</p> + +<p>Which, in a way, they did. Jonas +reflected on that a trifle grimly, thinking +of the Holy Inquisition with its +hierarchy of priests and lay folk, +busily working in Speyer just as it +worked in every other town throughout +Offenburg, and throughout the +civilized world.</p> + +<p>Ordinarily, he would not have +given it a thought, beyond a passing +sigh for the ways of the world; he +had other business. But now—</p> + +<p>He grinned to himself, and the +grin turned to a laugh as he started +down the hill. The grislier methods +of the Inquisitorial process were well-known +to him by reputation, and soon +he might be testing them out for +himself. There was absolutely no way +to be sure.</p> + +<p>That thought pleased him greatly; +after all, he told himself, there was +nothing like a little danger to spice +the boring business of living. By the +time he reached the bottom of the +hill, he was whistling loudly.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>He stopped at the first house, a +mud construction with a badly-carpentered +wooden door and a single +bare window that looked out on the +street. It smelled, but Jonas went up +to the door bravely and knocked.</p> + +<p>There was no answer. He went on +whistling "<i>Fortuna plango vulnera</i>" +under his breath, and after a time +he knocked again.</p> + +<p>This time he heard movement inside +the house, and nodded to himself +in a satisfied fashion. But almost +a minute passed before the head of +an old woman showed itself at the +window. She was really extraordinarily +ugly, he thought. She wore a +bonnet that did nothing whatever to +enhance her doubtful, wrinkled +charms, or to conceal them; and besides, +it was dirty.</p> + +<p>"Nobody's here," she said in the +voice of a very venomous toad. "Go +away."</p> + +<p>Jonas smiled at her. It was an +effort. "Madam—" he began politely.</p> + +<p>"Nobody's home," she repeated, +drawing slightly back from the window. +"You go away, now."</p> + +<p>"Ah," Jonas said pleasantly. "But +you're home, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>The old woman frowned at him +suspiciously. "Now," she said vaguely. +"Well."</p> + +<p>"This <i>is</i> your house?" he said. +"The house where you live?"</p> + +<p>"Never saw you before," the old +woman said.</p> + +<p>"That's right," Jonas said equably.</p> + +<p>"You come to turn me out?" she +demanded. Her eyebrows—which +were almost as big and black as her +ancient mustache—came down over +glittering little eyes. "I hold this +house free and proper," she said in +a determined roar, "and nobody can +take it from me. It belongs to me, +and to my children, and to their +children, and to the children of those +children—"</p> + +<p>The catalogue seemed likely to go +on forever. "Exactly," Jonas said +hastily.</p> + +<p>"Well, then," the old woman said, +and started to draw back.</p> + +<p>Jonas gestured lazily with one +hand. "Wait," he said. "I am not +going to take your house away from +you, madam. I am only here to ask +you a question."</p> + +<p>"Question?" she said. "You come +from Herr Knupf? I'm an old +woman but I do no wrong, and there +is no one can accuse me of heresy. +I am in church every week, and more +than once; I keep peace with my +neighbors and there's none can say +a mystery about me—"</p> + +<p>The woman, Jonas thought, was +full to the eyebrows with words. +Probably, he told himself, trying to +be fair, she didn't have anyone to +talk to, until a stranger came along.</p> + +<p>He sighed briefly. "I do not come +from the Inquisitor," he said truthfully, +"nor is my question one that +should cause you alarm."</p> + +<p>The old woman pondered for a +minute. She leaned her elbows on the +window sill, getting them muddy. +But that, Jonas thought, didn't seem +to matter to this creature, apparently.</p> + +<p>"Ask," she said at last.</p> + +<p>Jonas put on his most pleasant expression. +"Madam," he said, "I wish +to know if there be any family in +this town to give room to a wayfarer—understanding, +of course, that the +wayfarer would insist on paying. Paying +well," he added.</p> + +<p>The old woman blinked. "You +looking for an inn?" she said. "An +inn in this town?" The idea appeared +to strike her as the very height of +idiocy. She covered her face with her +hands and shook. After a second +Jonas discovered that she was laughing. +He waited patiently until the fit +had left her.</p> + +<p>"Not an inn," he said. "There is +no inn here, I know. But a family +willing to take in a stranger—"</p> + +<p>"Strangers are seldom here," she +said. "Herr Knupf watches his flock +with zeal."</p> + +<p>Which meant, Jonas reflected, that +he was in a fair way to get himself +burned as a heretic unless he watched +his step carefully. "Herr Knupf's +fame has reached my own country, +far away," he said with some truth. +"Nevertheless, a family which—"</p> + +<p>"Wait," she said. "You have said +that you will pay well. Yet you do +not appear rich."</p> + +<p>Jonas understood. Fishing in his +sewn pocket, he withdrew a single, +shiny coin. "I also wish," he said +smoothly, "to pay for any help I +may receive—such as the answering +of an innocent question, a question in +which the respected Inquisitor Knupf +can have no interest whatever."</p> + +<p>The old woman's eyes went to the +coin and stayed there. "Well," she +said. "It is said that the family called +Scharpe has a house too large for +them, now that the elder son is gone; +there is only the man, his wife and +a daughter. It is said that the man +is in need of money; he would accept +payment, were it generous, in return +for sharing room in his house."</p> + +<p>"I would be most grateful," Jonas +murmured. He passed the coin over; +the old woman's hand snatched it and +closed on it. "Where might I find +this family?" he said.</p> + +<p>"It is now late in the afternoon," +the old woman said. "Perhaps they +are at home. You will see a path +which takes you to the left; follow it +until you reach the last house. Knock +at the door."</p> + +<p>"I shall," Jonas said, "and many +thanks."</p> + +<p>The old woman, still clutching her +coin, disappeared from the window +as if someone had yanked her back. +Jonas turned with relief and got back +on the path, but it stank quite as +badly as the house had.</p> + +<p>He endured the stench—heroically.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Scharpe proved to be a barrel-shaped +man who was unaccountably +cheerless, as if the inside structure +had been carefully removed, and then +replaced by sawdust, Jonas thought. +Even the offer of seven kroner for +a single week's stay failed to produce +the delirious joy Jonas had expected.</p> + +<p>"The money is needed," Scharpe +said in a dour, bass voice, staring off +past Jonas' left ear at the darkening +sky. "And for the money, you will +be welcome. I must take your word +that you are not dangerous; I can +only pray that you do not betray that +trust."</p> + +<p>It was far from a warm welcome, +but Jonas was satisfied with it. "I +shall work to do you good," he said, +"and not evil."</p> + +<p>"Stranger," Scharpe said, "work +for your own good; do nothing for +me. This is an accursed family; there +is no good to be done to me, or my +wife or child."</p> + +<p>Jonas tried to look reassuring. He +thought of several things to say about +the sunny side of life, and decided +on none or them. "My sympathy—" he +began.</p> + +<p>"Your sympathy may endanger +you," Scharpe said. "My son is gone; +I pray that there is an end to it."</p> + +<p>Jonas peered once into the mind +of the man, and recoiled violently; +but he had enough, in that one +glimpse, to tell him the reason for +Scharpe's misery. And it was quite +reason enough, he thought.</p> + +<p>"Herr Knupf—"</p> + +<p>"We do not mention that name," +Scharpe said. "My wife has resigned +herself to what has happened; I am +not so wise."</p> + +<p>"I promise you," Jonas said earnestly, +"that you will be in no danger +from me. No, more: that I will help +you out of your difficulties, and ensure +your peace."</p> + +<p>"Then you are an angel from +Heaven," Scharpe said bitterly. +"There is no other help, while the +Inquisitor remains and our sons become +suspect to his rages."</p> + +<p>Jonas shook his head. "There is +help," he said, "and you will find it. +Your son is gone; accused, questioned, +confessed and burnt. But there +will be no more."</p> + +<p>Scharpe looked at him for a long +time. "Come with me," he said at +last, and led the way into his mud +house. Inside, there was only one +large room, but it seemed spacious +enough for four. Three pallets lay +against the far right wall, a single +one against the left. Scharpe went +to the back of the house, near the +single bed. "This will be yours," +he said, "while you are with us. It +is poor but it is all we can offer."</p> + +<p>"I am honored," Jonas said.</p> + +<p>"Here we are alone," Scharpe went +on, his voice lowering. "My wife and +daughter have gone to visit a neighbor, +for they have not yet closed us +off entirely from all human contact."</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image2.jpg" width="200" height="570" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>He grimaced. Jonas peered into the +mind again, very gently, but the mad +roiling of pain and memory there +was too strong for him, and he returned.</p> + +<p>"If you have anything to say to +me," Scharpe said, "tell me now. No +one can hear us, not Herr Knupf +himself."</p> + +<p>"To say to you?"</p> + +<p>"Regarding your plan," Scharpe +said. "Surely you have a plan. And +if I may play any part in it—"</p> + +<p>Jonas blinked. "Plan?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Of course," Scharpe said. "You +speak of an end to troubles, an end +to the Inquisition and the burnings, +an end to the question. And so you +must have a plan for ridding us of +Herr Knupf; one which you will tell +me."</p> + +<p>Jonas shook his head. "I have no +plan," he said.</p> + +<p>"It means danger," Scharpe pressed +him. "But I do not mind danger, +in such a cause. I am not vengeful, +but my son was no wizard. Yet the +Inquisitor took him and had a confession +from him; you know well the +worth of such confessions. And soon +there will be others, for when the +curse strikes a family it does not stop +with one member." He tightened his +lips. "It is not for myself I am +afraid," he said.</p> + +<p>Jonas nodded. "Were there such +a plan," he said, "be assured I would +tell you."</p> + +<p>"But—"</p> + +<p>"There is none," Jonas said. "Herr +Knupf shall remain, for all that I +can do, while the earth remains."</p> + +<p>Scharpe opened his mouth, shut it +again, and then shrugged. "I see," he +said at last. "You do not trust me. +Perhaps you are wise. I might talk +foolishly; I am an old man; older, +in this last month, than in all my +other years."</p> + +<p>"Believe me," Jonas began. "I—"</p> + +<p>"Let it be," Scharpe said quietly. +"I believe you. If that is what you +want, I believe you." He shrugged +again, moving out toward the door +of the hut. "And, in any case," he +said, "the money is needed. For there +are fines to pay, and costs of the Inquisition."</p> + +<p>"I understand," Jonas said helplessly.</p> + +<p>Scharpe turned and looked him full +in the face. In the big man's eyes, +bitterness and hopelessness glittered. +"I am sure you do," he said, and turned +again toward the door.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The others he met only briefly. +Frau Scharpe was a little woman with +the face of a walnut, who looked as +if she had never really been cheerful. +Her son's death, he saw when he +looked into her mind, had not come +as a surprise to her; it was one more +unhappy event, in a lifetime in which +she had expected nothing else. Unhappiness, +she told herself, was her +portion in this life; in the Life +Above, things would be different.</p> + +<p>Jonas had met the type before, and +was uninterested in going further. +But Ilse Scharpe was something else +entirely. She did not say a word to +him, coming into the house that evening, +a pace behind her mother, like +an obedient slave. She was about +seventeen, and her mind was as fresh +and clean and pretty as her face and +figure. Jonas started musing on +Heroes again, but he never had the +chance to make a move toward her. +She had a very nice smile, and from +memories in the others' minds he +could hear her voice, low and quiet +and entirely satisfactory.</p> + +<p>Jonas sighed. The job, he told himself +sternly, came first. And afterward—</p> + +<p>Though, come to think of it, there +wouldn't be an afterward.</p> + +<p>The evening meal was simple. +There was a single dish of meat and +some sort of beans; after it had been +eaten, and the darkness outside grew +to full night, it was time to retire. +Jonas went over to his pallet, removed +his jerkin and shoes, and lay +down. He heard the others readying +themselves for sleep, but he did not +look into their minds. Soon they were +asleep and breathing heavily.</p> + +<p>But Jonas stayed awake for a while.</p> + +<p>"It's really too bad we can't work +this sort of thing at a distance," +Claerten's voice said suddenly. "But +then, none of us has ever met the +man, and you can't read a mind if +you haven't had some physical contact +with the man who owns it."</p> + +<p>"It is too bad," Jonas agreed +politely. Five hundred miles away +Claerten chuckled, and the linkage of +minds transmitted the amusement to +Jonas.</p> + +<p>"You don't think so, at any rate," +the director said. "You're having adventures—and +a fine time. It's the +sort of thing you like, after all."</p> + +<p>Jonas shrugged mentally. "I suppose +so," he said. "I like to work on +my own, do my own job—"</p> + +<p>"And it's got you into trouble before," +Claerten said. "But you can't +afford any mistakes this time."</p> + +<p>"I know the risk perfectly well," +Jonas thought back.</p> + +<p>Claerten's thought carried a wry +echo. "You know the risk to yourself," +he told Jonas, "and you've accepted +that. You rather like it, as a +matter of fact. But you haven't +thought of the risk to the rest of us—and +to the town you're in."</p> + +<p>Jonas sent a thought of uncertainty: +"What?"</p> + +<p>Claerten transmitted the entire picture +in one sudden blow: the chance +that Jonas would not be killed immediately, +but would be discovered; +the chance that the Inquisitor would +get from him the secret of the Brotherhood—</p> + +<p>"That's impossible," Jonas said.</p> + +<p>Claerten sounded resigned. "Nothing's +impossible," he said. "And if +the secret is let out—why, the Brotherhood +is finished. Finished before +it's barely started. Because you can +read a man's mind doesn't mean you +can defeat him, Jonas."</p> + +<p>"But you know what he's going +to do—"</p> + +<p>"And if he's got you in a wooden +house and he's going to burn it down, +what good does your knowledge do +you?"</p> + +<p>"But you can transmit false +thoughts—"</p> + +<p>"And confuse him," Claerten said. +"Fine. Fine. If you've ever met the +man before. And suppose you +haven't? Then you can't transmit a +thing to him; you're trapped in the +house, remember, and the fire's started. +What good's your telepathy?"</p> + +<p>"But—"</p> + +<p>"It's a sense," Claerten said. "Like +any other sense. But it isn't magic +any more than your eyes are magic. +They're ... given by God, if you +like; they grow, they develop. So the +ability to read minds, to transmit +thought is given by God. No one +knows why or how. Fifteen of us +have developed it; fifteen who are +members of the Brotherhood. But +there are others—"</p> + +<p>"Of course," Jonas thought impatiently. +"I know all that."</p> + +<p>"You know a great deal," Claerten +said, "which I sometimes find it +necessary to bring to your attention."</p> + +<p>"I've done all right," Jonas +thought sullenly.</p> + +<p>Claerten agreed. "Of course you +have," he thought, "but you're not +the most careful of men; and great +care is needed. The Brotherhood +must grow. This new sense is of +great value; perhaps we can learn +to teach it to others in time, though +we have had little success with that. +But at the least we can maintain our +numbers, pass the gift on to our +children—"</p> + +<p>"If it is possible," Jonas said.</p> + +<p>"We must try," Claerten said. +"And your job is enormously important."</p> + +<p>"I know that," Jonas thought wearily.</p> + +<p>"You have accomplished the first +step," Claerten said. "Do nothing +rash."</p> + +<p>"Of course not."</p> + +<p>"You will not accept help—"</p> + +<p>"I will not," Jonas thought.</p> + +<p>"Very well, then," Claerten +thought. There was the ghost of another +idea; Jonas caught it.</p> + +<p>"I know perfectly well that you +wouldn't have sent me if there were +any other available member," he +thought. "There is no need to remind +me."</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry," Claerten thought. He +radiated caution, worry, patience; +Jonas turned in the bed and cut off +from the director with a grunt. He +was tired; long-distance linkages were +a drain on the body's energy, even +when the person involved was easy +to visualize. But Claerten had insisted +on intermittent contact.</p> + +<p>If there were such a thing as total +contact, constant contact over a period +of days, Jonas thought, Claerten +would use me for a puppet, a veritable +Punch among men; he would override +me and take me over the way +a traveling entertainer rules his jointed +dolls.</p> + +<p>And that would be a fine thing for +a hero, wouldn't it?</p> + +<p>He grimaced in the darkness. Constant +contact was simply impossible; +any reaching out used energy, and +linking up for a long period simply +burned the body up like a long starvation; +it was as bad as a penance.</p> + +<p>Jonas was thankful for that.</p> + +<p>And for the rest—well, he thought +resignedly, what was a hero without +a quest? And what was a quest without +someone to set it?</p> + +<p>But that the someone had to be +Claerten, with his caution and his +old-woman worry—</p> + +<p>Jonas sighed and set about the +business of falling asleep.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The days passed slowly, with great +boredom. Jonas made contact twice +with Claerten, who told him over +and over to wait, to do nothing: "The +next move is coming soon; do nothing +to hurry it. You can only upset +the natural course of events."</p> + +<p>"Which is unwise," Jonas thought +bitterly, "and risky, and very probably +impious as well."</p> + +<p>"As for the piety," Claerten +thought, "I leave that to the priests +and the women. But wisdom and +caution are my task, Jonas, as they +must be yours."</p> + +<p>"I—"</p> + +<p>"You are a hero, out on an adventure," +Claerten thought witheringly. +"But set your course with sense, +travel it with caution; you will the +more certainly arrive."</p> + +<p>"Philosophy for a dull plodder," +Jonas thought.</p> + +<p>"Philosophy for one of the Brotherhood," +Claerten thought back. "We +are tiny as yet; we have no force. You +can add to that force, add greatly; +but you must be wise."</p> + +<p>"I must be slow, you mean."</p> + +<p>"I mean what I have told you," +Claerten thought. "And—one more +thing, Jonas."</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>"The daughter," Claerten thought. +"I have seen her in your mind. Ignore +the wench. Is she worth what +your task is worth?"</p> + +<p>"I never—"</p> + +<p>"Then my caution is unnecessary," +Claerten thought. "But, in the unlikely +case that she might tempt you +to folly—remember it."</p> + +<p>Jonas, who disliked irony, sighed +and cut off.</p> + +<p>That was the third night. During +the days he had done the things he +had planned; he did no work with +the Scharpes, but let them find him, +when they returned to the hut of an +evening, reciting strange words. Once +he built a small outdoor fire and +walked around it, widdershins, for +several minutes. Then he put the fire +out and went inside. He wasn't sure +whether or not anyone was watching +him, that time.</p> + +<p>But sooner or later it had to happen.</p> + +<p>And it happened, as Jonas had suspected +it would, through the wife. +Mrs. Scharpe came back to the hut +early one day, threw a frightened +glance at Jonas sitting in a corner +doing nothing at all, and left.</p> + +<p>He hardly needed to see into her +mind to know where she was going.</p> + +<p>And twenty minutes later two men +came to the hut. They stood in the +opened doorway, Mrs. Scharpe behind +them twittering like an ancient +bird, and Jonas watched them boredly. +They were giants, for this part of +the world, almost six feet tall, with +great hands and jaws. One had black, +coarse hair on his head and a stubble +about his face; the other was bald +as an egg.</p> + +<p>"That's him," Mrs. Scharpe said—just +a trifle hesitantly. "He's the one. +He came to stay with us and we +didn't know—"</p> + +<p>The man with black hair said: +"Uh. Gur."</p> + +<p>"Herr Knupf said take him back," +the bald one added.</p> + +<p>"Herr Knupf?" Jonas said, entering +the conversation with a light, +pleasant tone.</p> + +<p>"He's the ... the—" Mrs. Scharpe +tried to get the word out, and then +pushed by the two men and came into +the hut. "I didn't want to but there's +something strange, and we can't afford +any suspicion, and—"</p> + +<p>Jonas realized slowly that she was +crying as she looked at him. "It's all +right," he said uncomfortably.</p> + +<p>"You're—"</p> + +<p>"I'll be perfectly all right," Jonas +said. He stood up. "This Herr +Knupf," he said. "He wants to see +me?"</p> + +<p>"He said bring you along," the +bald man told him.</p> + +<p>The black-haired man nodded very +slowly. "Gur," he said.</p> + +<p>Jonas sighed and went forward to +meet the two big men, leaving Mrs. +Scharpe sobbing in the background. +The poor woman felt terrible, he +knew; but there was nothing he could +do about that. "Then let us go," he +said, and marched off. Feeling that +one more effect wouldn't hurt, he led +the way to the Town Hall; let them +figure out how he had known just +where to go, he thought.</p> + +<p>Their minds were very, very boring, +and quite blank. Herr Knupf, +Jonas reflected, might be a definite +relief.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>First there was the cell, which +was in the basement of the Town +Hall. It was damp and the air was +not too good, but there were compensations. +Rats, for instance. Jonas +told himself, after the first couple +of hours, that he simply wouldn't +have known what to do without the +rats. Trying to trap and kill them, +with no weapons beyond his bare +hands—even an eating knife he had +carried in his jerkin had been taken +away, leaving him to the uncomfortable +reflection that he was going to +have to dine with his fingers—was +a pastime that occupied him for several +hours on the first day.</p> + +<p>On the second day, the rats began +to bore him. By that evening, they +were annoying him, and when the +third day dawned bright and warm—as +near as he could tell from the +tiny slip of window at the top of +his cell—Jonas was telling himself +that any move at all was a move in +the right direction.</p> + +<p>He set up a shout for one of the +guards. The bald one had brought +his meals every day, but the black-haired +one was the man who checked +his cell at night. For once, Jonas +thought, he was lucky; the bald man +appeared, after some fifteen minutes +of screaming and cursing. Jonas was +not at all sure whether the black-haired +man understood language: +there was little trace of it in his mind, +and virtually nothing that might be +called intelligence. With the bald +man, at least, he could communicate.</p> + +<p>"What's wanted?" the guard said +sourly, staring through the bars.</p> + +<p>Jonas smiled softly. "You know +why I'm here, don't you?" he said +in a voice as close to silky as he +could make it.</p> + +<p>"You?" the bald man said. +"You're here. In a cell."</p> + +<p>"That's right," Jonas said patiently. +He rubbed at his face. "Do you know +why I was put here?"</p> + +<p>"You—cast spells. You make +things happen."</p> + +<p>"That's right," Jonas said, smiling +again. "I'm a wizard. A warlock. +That's what they say, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"You—make things happen," the +bald man said.</p> + +<p>But he had the basic idea; Jonas +checked that in his mind. "Very +well," he said. "Now, I wish to see +Herr Knupf."</p> + +<p>"The Inquisitor calls you when he +wants you," the bald man said.</p> + +<p>"Now," Jonas said.</p> + +<p>"When he wants—"</p> + +<p>"If I am a wizard," Jonas said, "I +have powers. Strange powers. I could +make you—" He reflected for a minute. +"I could make you into a beetle, +and squash you underfoot. As a +matter of fact, I think I will." He +gazed reflectively at the bald man, +who gulped and turned a little pale.</p> + +<p>"You ... you are in a cell," he +said at last. "Locked up."</p> + +<p>"Do you think that will stop me?" +Jonas said. He came to the barred +door, still smiling.</p> + +<p>"You would not dare—"</p> + +<p>"Why not?" Jonas asked. "What +have I got to lose?"</p> + +<p>He raised one hand, clawing the +fingers slightly. He took a deep +breath, as if he were about to spit +out an incantation. His eyes glittered. +The smile broadened.</p> + +<p>A long second passed.</p> + +<p>"I will tell the Inquisitor you wish +to see him," the bald guard said.</p> + +<p>Jonas relaxed and stepped back. "I +shall be most grateful," he said formally. +The guard turned and started to +walk away. Five paces down the corridor, +the walk turned into a run. +Jonas watched him go, and then sat +down on his louse-infested cot to +await developments.</p> + +<p>The minutes ticked by endlessly. +He thought of trying to reach +Claerten, but decided, not entirely +with regret, that the contact would +use up too much energy. And he +needed all the energy he could conserve +now. The second step had been +taken—the fact that he sat in a cell +in prison was proof of that.</p> + +<p>The third step—the all-important +final step—was about to begin.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/image3.jpg" width="400" height="151" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Georg Knupf was a tall man with +skin the color and apparent texture +of good leather. He had a face like +an eagle, and his eyes were ice-blue. +He moved his thin, strong hands +gently back and forth on the table +that held his papers, inkstand and +pen, and said in a voice like audible +sandpaper: "You wanted to see me."</p> + +<p>"True," Jonas said pleasantly. +Knupf was sitting behind the table. +Jonas had not been asked to sit; he +remained standing, and he was reasonably +sure that his feet were going +to hurt in a minute. He tried not to +let the thought disturb him.</p> + +<p>The man's mind was like his office +in the Town Hall: sparsely furnished, +almost austere, but with all the necessaries +laid out for easy access. Underneath +the strength and iron of the +mind Jonas caught the spark glowing, +and nearly smiled. In spite of the reports, +in spite of logic, there had been +a chance the Brotherhood had guessed +wrongly about this man.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/image4.jpg" width="300" height="464" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>Now that chance was gone, and the +Brotherhood was right again.</p> + +<p>"Not many ask to see me," Knupf +said in the same voice. He went on +looking at his hands. There was bitterness +in his mind, bitterness that +had changed to hate. "Their pleas +tend to be exactly the opposite."</p> + +<p>"I did not plead," Jonas pointed +out. "It was necessary that I come to +see you."</p> + +<p>The question was, he told himself, +exactly what were the Inquisitor's +real beliefs? His public professions +were well-known; Jonas searched and +found the answer. Knupf was an +honest man.</p> + +<p>That, of course, made matters +simpler.</p> + +<p>"Necessary?" Knupf said, looking +up for the first time. His gaze stabbed +like a sword. He was uneasy, +Jonas knew; with another mind probing +his, he could not help but be +uneasy. But he could not find a cause; +it would never occur to him. And he +controlled his feelings superbly.</p> + +<p>"You believe that I am a wizard," +Jonas said.</p> + +<p>Knupf waited a bare second, and +then nodded.</p> + +<p>"I can do many things," Jonas +went on. "It was necessary that I +bring these to your attention—and +prove to you that they are not wizardry, +or magic."</p> + +<p>"Many have told me," Knupf muttered, +"that their feats were natural. +It is a common defense."</p> + +<p>"So I have heard," Jonas said +easily. "But I shall prove what I +say."</p> + +<p>"I am under no compulsion to +listen to you," Knupf said after a +pause.</p> + +<p>Jonas shrugged. His feet <i>were</i> beginning +to hurt, he realized; he +sighed briefly, but there was no time +or attention to spare for them. "I +could only see you by having myself +accused of witchcraft," he said. "In +that way, you would be forced to +listen to me. You may listen now, +or later at a full hearing of the Inquisitor's +Court."</p> + +<p>"And I am to take my choice?" +Knupf said. He smiled briefly; his +face remained cold. The strong hands +moved on the tabletop.</p> + +<p>"It is a matter of indifference to +me," Jonas said. "But the wait becomes +boring, after a time."</p> + +<p>Knupf's eyebrows went up. "Boring +is—hardly the word others would +use."</p> + +<p>"I am not like others," Jonas said. +He wished for Claerten suddenly, but +there was no way to reach him safely. +He had to make his move alone.</p> + +<p>Well, he told himself, that was +what he had wanted.</p> + +<p>"I can tell you what is in your +mind," he said.</p> + +<p>The words hung in the air of the +room for a long time. At last Knupf +nodded. "The Devil grants to many +his power of seeing the minds of +men," he said quietly.</p> + +<p>"This is not Devil's work—as I +shall prove," Jonas said. He shifted +his feet. "But let me establish one +point at a time, in the most scholastic +manner; if you will permit."</p> + +<p>"I permit," Knupf said. There was +interest in his mind, overlaid with +skepticism, of course, but interest all +the same. That, Jonas thought, was +a better sign than he had dared to +hope for.</p> + +<p>"Very well," he said. "Think of +a word. Think of any single word. I +shall tell it to you."</p> + +<p>"As any wizard might do, who had +the help of his lord the Devil," +Knupf muttered. "Do you expect this +to prove—"</p> + +<p>"One thing at a time," Jonas said.</p> + +<p>Knupf nodded. A second passed.</p> + +<p>Jonas licked his lips. The possibilities +paraded before him; on one +hand, success. On the other there was +the torture and death of the Inquisition. +Jonas took a deep breath; there +was no way to back out now. Heroism +looked a little empty, though.</p> + +<p>He closed his eyes. "Cabbages," he +said.</p> + +<p>Knupf neither applauded, nor +looked surprised. "As I have said," +he murmured, "that which the Devil +can grant—" He paused and looked +down at his hands. "Am I to take +this as a confession?" he said. "Do +you wish to hurry your own death?"</p> + +<p>"I am no wizard," Jonas said.</p> + +<p>"A stranger," Knupf said, "who +enters a small city, is seen at mysterious +undertakings, plucks words out of +the center of a man's mind ... why, +the picture is a classic one. Del Rio +himself, Holzinger or any of the +others could not describe a better."</p> + +<p>"Yet all this was done to draw your +attention, to fix it on what I have +to tell you," Jonas said, shifting his +feet again. "I am no wizard, but a +man who may do certain things. And +here is my proof: you may do the +same yourself."</p> + +<p>The silence was a long one, and at +the end of it Knupf rose. He walked +to the door of the room and opened +it, and the bald-headed guard came +in. "He has tried to tempt me to +pact with Satan," the Inquisitor said.</p> + +<p>"But—"</p> + +<p>"Take him away."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Some day, Jonas thought, back in +his cell, there would be a method of +controlling minds that did not require +the willing co-operation of the +two parties. Some day the man who +reads minds would be more than a +passive onlooker.</p> + +<p>But the talent was new; it needed +practice, it needed training.</p> + +<p>The cell grew dark as night came, +and the dampness seemed to increase. +Jonas heard squeaking and thought +of the rats, but he couldn't even summon +up enough energy to try for +them. He sat crosslegged in a corner +of the cell and closed his eyes.</p> + +<p>He sighed once, deeply. This was +what a hero came to, he told himself. +This was the end of heroics and playing +a lone hand. Why, if he had it +to do over again, he would—</p> + +<p>"You would do exactly the same +thing," Claerten's voice said.</p> + +<p>Jonas grinned suddenly, and sat +straighter. "I should have known +you'd be getting into contact sooner +or later," he thought.</p> + +<p>"I try to keep track of all our +men," Claerten thought. "In a case +like yours, I try harder."</p> + +<p>"My foolishness," Jonas thought, +"sometimes works to my benefit."</p> + +<p>Claerten's thought was wry. "If +you hadn't got impatient and tried +to hurry things," his voice said in +Jonas' mind, "you wouldn't be back +in your cell now. There is a time and +a place for your disclosure—"</p> + +<p>"Another day in here would have +driven me out of my wits," Jonas +thought.</p> + +<p>"Better out of your wits than +dead," Claerten thought.</p> + +<p>Jonas sighed.</p> + +<p>"However," Claerten went on, +"there is still a way out for you. I +have read the situation in your mind, +and your next move will have to be +rather more spectacular than usual."</p> + +<p>"So long as it works," Jonas said, +"I will be satisfied."</p> + +<p>"It will work," Claerten said. "At +least—I think it will."</p> + +<p>Another day dragged by. Jonas put +in his time alternately going over the +new plan and feeling more frightened +than he had ever believed possible. +Claerten reached him once, but +the contact was weak and fleeting; +the director hadn't enough strength +to reach him again, at least not for a +day or so. Jonas was exactly where +he'd wanted to be: on his own.</p> + +<p>He hated the idea.</p> + +<p>Time passed, somehow. When +morning dawned, Jonas awoke to find +the door of his cell being unlocked. +The bald man and the black-haired +man were both there. He looked up +at them with distaste.</p> + +<p>Then he saw what was in their +minds, and the distaste changed to +fear.</p> + +<p>"You have confessed," the bald +one said. "It is necessary that you +ratify your confession. Come with +us."</p> + +<p>Jonas knew what that meant: ratification +of a free confession took +place under torture. He wiped his +face with one hand, but he hardly +thought of escaping.</p> + +<p>He had to go through with the +plan.</p> + +<p>The two guards came into the cell +and gripped his arms. Jonas allowed +himself to be carried out into the +corridor, and down it to a great wooden +door. The guards opened it, and +dragged him through.</p> + +<p>The torture chamber was brightly +lit, with torches in brackets along the +walls that gave off, by a small fraction, +more light than smoke. In one +corner the rack itself stood, and there +were other tools of the trade scattered +around the room.</p> + +<p>Jonas found that he was sweating.</p> + +<p>The guards brought him to the +center of the room. Knupf was standing +near him, a perfectly blank expression +on his face. His voice was +the same rough rasp, but it seemed +almost mechanical.</p> + +<p>"You have confessed to me," he +said, "your heresy. Now, you will be +made to ratify your confession. That +done, your penalty will be exacted."</p> + +<p>And the penalty, of course, would +be death—death at the stake.</p> + +<p>He forced himself to remain calm. +Now was the time for his play. He +took a deep breath and felt the +strength in him gather to a single +point and flow outward. The two +men suddenly seemed to stagger; +there was a second of confusion and +they had let him go. He stood alone +in the room. He turned and walked +to the door, but he did not open it. +Instead, he leaned against it.</p> + +<p>He forced his voice into the patterns +of calmness and ease. "Your +men cannot touch me," he said.</p> + +<p>"Wizard—"</p> + +<p>"No," Jonas said. The confusion +he was broadcasting kept the men +from doing anything that required +even a simple plan, but he couldn't +keep it up for long. "A man like +yourself, a man with a particular +talent, given by God."</p> + +<p>"The name of God—"</p> + +<p>"I can say that name," Jonas told +the Inquisitor. "No wizard may say +it."</p> + +<p>"It is a trick," Knupf said.</p> + +<p>Jonas shook his head. "Not at all. +I will ask you to do nothing against +the Faith; I will merely ask you to +test for yourself what I say."</p> + +<p>"You are a heretic," Knupf said +stubbornly. "I can not—"</p> + +<p>"You can pray," Jonas said.</p> + +<p>Knupf blinked. "Pray?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Meditate on a prayer," Jonas said. +"Keep your mind open, keep yourself +ready for the gift of God. It will +descend on you."</p> + +<p>Knupf shook his head. "It is a +trick—" he began.</p> + +<p>"A trick?" Jonas said. "With the +prayers of God and His Church?"</p> + +<p>And that was the unanswerable +question. For no wizard could use the +name of God, no wizard could pray. +So the Inquisition said; so Knupf +said, so Knupf had to say, and so he +had to believe.</p> + +<p>Slowly, his mind opened and became +receptive. The prayer hung in +the air of the smoky room. Jonas +slipped in—</p> + +<p>"Now," he said quietly.</p> + +<p>His control slipped. The two +guards came toward him, overpowered +and held him in a brief second—</p> + +<p>"Wait," the Inquisitor said heavily. +"Wait. Release him."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"And so," Claerten thought, "the +job was accomplished."</p> + +<p>"Naturally," Jonas thought.</p> + +<p>Claerten's thought had an overtone +of weariness. "There is no need to +be smug," he told Jonas. "After all, +you did not do the job yourself."</p> + +<p>"Unimportant," Jonas thought. +"The man is convinced; he can be +trained further and join the Brotherhood."</p> + +<p>"It will take time," Claerten said. +"A few years, perhaps. But in the +meantime there will be no trials in +Speyer."</p> + +<p>"No trials?" Jonas thought. "But ... oh. +I see."</p> + +<p>"Of course," Claerten thought. +"Any man who considers himself a +wizard will have his mind seen by the +Inquisitor. And since there are no +wizards—at least, none we have discovered—"</p> + +<p>"The trials will cease," Jonas finished.</p> + +<p>"And the Brotherhood has gained +a new member," Claerten said. "A +member with influence and power. +It is an important step forward, +Jonas."</p> + +<p>"Of course," Jonas thought disinterestedly.</p> + +<p>"Yet you seem bored by the matter," +Claerten thought, puzzled. "I +don't see ... oh. I see the woman +in your mind. The daughter. And—"</p> + +<p>"Now, stop it," Jonas thought. +"Stop it. Cut off. After all," he finished, +"there are times when even a +hero wants a little privacy."</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Postscript:</p> + +<p><i>In 1605-1606 (in Offenburg) there +were no executions....</i></p> + +<p>—H. C. Lea, "Materials Toward a +History of Witchcraft," Vol. III, +p. 1148.</p></div> + +<h3>THE END</h3> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Wizard, by +Laurence Mark Janifer (AKA Larry M. 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