“I’m convinced,” he told Merlin. “But what does it all have to do with my job application?”
“Just one minute and I’ll explain,” replied the magician. Opening a drawer in his desk, he fumbled around with unseen boxes. Finally, he pulled out a small leather case. “Found them,” he announced mysteriously.
“Found what?” asked Jack, his eyes narrowing as Merlin rose from his seat and circled over to Jack’s chair.
“Nothing to worry about, my young friend,” said the magician, snapping open the container. He held it out so that Jack could see the contents. Inside, resting on a bed of cotton, were two tiny slivers of bright red plastic.
“Enchanted contact lenses,” declared Merlin, carefully lifting one out of the case. “Much more practical than the rose-colored glasses we used for centuries. Wear these and you’ll be able to instantly distinguish between a real human being and those only masquerading as such.”
Jack shuddered. With 20/20 eyesight, he had never worn glasses, much less contact lenses. The thought of anything resting on his eyeball made him queasy. “Uh, I’ll pass on those,” he said, raising his hands in protest.
“Nonsense,” said Merlin, weaving his fingers past Jack’s limbs. The lens touched Jack’s left eye and vanished. The same happened with the right, “I told you. These are magical. You won’t feel a thing.”
The magician spoke the truth. Jack’s eyes felt unchanged. Only now, he viewed the world tinted lightly pink.
“Look at me,” commanded Merlin. “Do you see an aura around my body?”
“No,” answered Jack, frowning. “Should I?”
“Look at your hands,” replied Merlin, “and then answer your own question.”
Jack recoiled in surprise. His arms, his legs, his entire form glowed with a faint golden radiance.
“The rose-colored contact lenses extend your vision into the supernatural spectrum. All humans possess an aura. Supernatural beings do not.” Merlin sighed. “I suspect it reflects on that intangible essence called the soul.”
“You still haven’t answered…” Jack started to say, but Merlin ignored him. Instead, the magician reached back into his desk drawer. This time, he pulled out a thin plastic card. With a flick of the wrist, he tossed it to Jack.
“Sign it on the back,” the magician instructed. He twirled his fingers, and a pen materialized on the desk top. Writing on the casing of the ball point identified it as a free souvenir from a local hotel.
Jack examined the plastic rectangle. Bright gold in color, it appeared the same as an ordinary credit card except for the name. UNIVERSAL CHARGE CARD, proclaimed the logo.
“What is this thing?” he asked, as he wrote in his name. “There’s no bank name on here.”
“Nor is one needed,” said Merlin. “It works by magic, much in the same fashion as the never-emptying purse of folk tales. You use it the same way as an ordinary charge card. Buy whatever you need on credit. The card is universally accepted by any store that accepts charges. It even works in cash machines. And, there’s no upper expense limit.”
Jack stared at the rectangle suspiciously. “Yeah. But who pays the bill?”
“Round-off charges discharge the debt,” said Merlin glibly. “With interest on billing errors, clerical mistakes and overdue refunds filling in the difference. Taken separately, they amount to a mere pittance. Combine the tens of millions of transactions negotiated each month, and this floating pool of resources amounts to a fortune. Don’t worry about cheating anyone. They all get paid.”
Jack sighed. The magician’s explanation sounded too smooth. He came across like a used car salesman, eager to make a deal. The bottom line was what worried Jack.
“Can we get back to the part about the rising forces of darkness?” asked Jack. “And humanity’s champion?”
“Of course,” said Merlin. “That’s why I hired you.”
Jack groaned in exasperation. “Why did you hire me?”
“Because you answered the advertisement,” replied Merlin, his tone benign, as if speaking to a foolish child. He paused. “It was laced with spells to attract the proper individual.”
Seeing the bewildered expression on Jack’s face, the magician smiled. “Perhaps I should explain things from the beginning.”
“What a novel idea,” said Jack.
Merlin stood up and walked over to the huge windows. “Businessmen pay me to predict industry and stock market trends. While I carefully avoid being too accurate, I still provide the best service in the field. Needless to say, none of my clients realize my information comes not from analysis of political and social events but from a crystal ball.
“Recently, a major corporation requested I prepare a long-term analysis of employment opportunities in the Chicago metropolitan area. Usually, I turn down such projects, but this time I agreed. Not that I promised much. The future is not set, and the further ahead one looks, the less reliable the prediction. Too many outside factors affect the outcome. At best, I see what might be, not what will be. Which offers us the faint hope that changing the present will affect the future.”
The fear evident in Merlin’s voice sent a ripple of apprehension rippling through Jack. “How far ahead did you look?”
“A year,” said the magician, barely audible. “They insisted I try, and, to be frank, the challenge intrigued me. So, I cast my spells and gazed into my crystal.”
“What did you see?” asked Jack, not sure he wanted to know the answer.
“Death and destruction.” Merlin’s words rang of despair. “War, famine and plague. An end to civilization as we know it. The beginning of a new Dark Age for humanity.”
Jack shivered. “And you think I can change the course of history? One man stop all of that?”
“I know you can,” replied Merlin. “The world I saw stank of dark sorcery. An evil darkness haunted the land, rejoicing in the desolation. It was fully responsible for what had happened. You must find this monster in the present and destroy it to save the future. You’re our only hope, mankind’s lone champion. Not that it will be easy. For, though I dread the thought, I suspect one of the Old Ones has returned.”
“How do you…” Jack began but never finished.
In the outer office, Megan screamed.
“What the hell!” yelled Jack, rising from his chair. Behind him, the door crashed open. A half-dozen bikers, dressed in black leather and chains, crowded into the room. A metal-studded glove slammed into Jack’s head, sending him sprawling to the floor.
Struggling desperately to get up, Jack sensed rather than saw the kick aimed at his face. It smashed into his forehead with mind-numbing force. He collapsed to the carpet, blackness overwhelming him, with Megan’s terrified shrieks echoing through his mind.
3
Groaning, Jack opened his eyes. It hadn’t been a nightmare. He was still in Merlin’s office. Everything looked the same. Except the magician was no longer there. Not expecting an answer, Jack called out Megan’s name. No one replied.
Gingerly, he touched where his skull throbbed with pain. He jerked his head away in agony. Nothing felt broken, but he worried about a possible concussion. Dizzily, he forced himself to his feet.
The room spun about, then steadied. He rubbed his eyes in annoyance. The colors seemed wrong. There was a pink tint to everything. Then he remembered the rose-colored contact lenses.
The thought sent his mind reeling. He barely glimpsed the invading bikers, but he felt sure they hadn’t possessed auras. Merlin and his daughter had been kidnapped by supernatural foes.
Jack toyed with calling the police. He rejected the idea instantly. That path led straight to the mental ward. His own initial reaction to Merlin’s identity made that clear. And Jack couldn’t back up his claims with magical powers. The authorities were out. If anyone was going to save Merlin, it had to be him.