The Adjacent (43 page)

By the time Thom was in his mid-twenties he had become an accomplished magician, not so much through inclination as the gradual realization that the conservative burghers of these bourgeois Prachoit towns did still enjoy the sight of live magic.

As the years went by he had become more skilful and adept at the art of conjuring, able to match the expectations of different audiences. What would thrill the members of a business seminar seeking diversion was not the same repertoire as he would perform for retired people in one of the seaside towns.

His itinerant life gradually lost its appeal and after his twenty-fifth birthday he found an apartment in the east coast town of Beathurn, surrendered his least-used magical apparatus as a depositing tithe, and became permanently resident at an address for the first time since leaving his parents’ home.

Living in Beathurn turned out to suit him. It came close to having what Thom considered to be civilized values, not the least of which was the presence of a working theatre –
Il-Palazz Dukat Aviator
, or
‘The Grand Aviator Palace’. This oddly named venue was a well-equipped theatre, which the management insisted on filling with an apparently endless stream of pop tribute bands, evangelists and celebrity chefs. Once or twice a year there was a general variety show, but the acts were unimaginative and repetitive. There was also a cinema, an extensive lending library, a music store and a bookshop.

For a while Thom worked part-time as a licensed pavement performer: singing, playing, sometimes juggling and always performing street magic. He became well known in the town, but he was constantly frustrated in his attempts to be given a booking at the theatre. Every now and then he would earn a gig in one of the neighbouring towns: a party or an event, sometimes guesting in private drinking or gambling clubs, and once or twice even given the chance to perform on a stage, but
Il-Palazz
remained persistently out of reach.

One day, though, when Thom the Thaumaturge was thinking at last that he might retire from performing, he saw a letter printed in the local newspaper. It gave him an idea.

THE LETTER WAS FROM A MAN WHO HAD SPENT SOME TIME
travelling around the Dream Archipelago, and during his journey had seen something he described as a true and baffling mystery.

On the island of Paneron he and his family had witnessed what they considered to be a miracle. He had seen a shaman or a fakir, or some other kind of wild religious zealot, make a young boy disappear from sight in extraordinary circumstances. The letter writer was imprecise with detail, but said it had taken place in the open air, on a patch of recently mown grass, with no assistants and with scores of spectators on all sides.

The letter closed with an appeal to anyone who might have an explanation for what had happened to make contact with him care of the newspaper.

Thom, sensing that this man had seen a skilled illusionist at work, knew that one of the invariable conditions of illusionism was that the audience only saw what they were intended to see, and that they would contentedly assume the rest. What was in fact going on was something else entirely. There was enough description in the letter to convince Thom that this was such an illusion, but
annoyingly the details of the performance were lacking.

Subsequent issues of the newspaper carried letters from other readers. Some were just as intrigued as Thom, but others had their own anecdotes to tell. Finally, someone sent in a letter saying that he too had watched this illusion on Paneron – he was also baffled by it, but unlike the first correspondent he included a description of the performance.

With this extra detail Thom was able to make an intelligent guess about what the illusion might have been. All stage magic evolves gradually, tricks adapting as society changes or as new technology become available, but every illusion is based on a handful of principles that have not changed in centuries. What appear to be fresh concepts or innovations are in fact the result of showmanship, or novel ways of presenting old ideas.

Thom immediately set about designing the apparatus he would need for the performance, and sent off to a mail order supplier in Glaund City, on the mainland, for the one crucial piece of equipment he could not make for himself. This was a specially manufactured industrial hawser, mainly used in undersea exploration, but which would be ideal for his purposes.

Two or three weeks later he began his preparations. He rented a function room above a restaurant to use as a rehearsal room and workshop, and every day, working with the blinds drawn and the inner door locked, Thom went through the creation and rehearsal of his new stage act.

IT WAS AROUND THE SAME TIME AS THIS THAT THOM BEGAN TO
feel that he was being watched or followed. For all its bland character, Prachous could be a place of suspicions, of doubts, of interference. Most people pretended to be absorbed in their own lives, but in reality all Prachoits were nervously curious about what their neighbours might or might not be doing. It always paid to be careful if you had something, no matter how harmless, you wanted to keep to yourself. In Thom’s case, because he was a magician, a feeling of secrecy about what might be involved in his preparations was habitual.

Every morning when he walked across the town centre to his rehearsal room, Thom normally stopped at a particular pavement
café in the central square of Beathurn. He would buy a pastry or a small piece of cake, drink two cups of coffee, and while he sat alone at a table he would read the day’s newspaper. Around him, many other people were doing much the same. It was pleasant to sit there under the shade of the big trees in the square, listening to the sound of other people’s chatter and the traffic going past, and harmlessly watching the passers-by as they headed for work, or home, or to the university on the opposite side of the square.

He rarely took much interest in the other customers, but one morning he realized that a certain young woman was once again sitting at a table not far from his own. He had noticed her before – although she was young, looked interesting and always dressed well, there was some kind of deep stress apparent in her expression and bearing. She seemed never able to relax, but always sat forward, slightly hunched, staring out across the street. She was often frowning. In a town of contented people, she looked like an outsider. She always arrived at the café after Thom had ordered from the waiter, and she was still there when he left. Whenever the right table was available she sat at the same distance from him: not too close, not too far away. She always sat at an angle towards him – neither facing him nor with her back turned.

She never looked directly at him, but on the morning when Thom took a special interest in her he glanced up suddenly from his newspaper and his eye happened to fall on her. She was staring at him then, but the instant she noticed him looking she turned her gaze away. Until then, Thom had given her no more thought than anyone else he saw in the café, but after that he was more aware of her.

It became, for Thom, a sort of mild game without rules. He started choosing a different table every day, but each time he did the young woman would contrive to sit at the same general distance away from him as always. One morning he deliberately chose the only free table in an area that was crowded – the young woman had to sit on the far side of the café area. Another time he chose a table inside the café – she took a table outside, but one close to the window with a view towards him. She never seemed to look directly at him, though.

A few days later he realized that she often followed him when he walked the rest of the way to his rehearsal room. She was adept at it: she shadowed him at a great distance, and it took some time for him to be certain that following him was what she was doing.

Not knowing who she was, and feeling sure that her behaviour
was not some odd way of showing she was attracted to him, and not himself being interested, at that time, in forming any new relationship, Thom began to wonder what might lie behind it all. Just about the only motive he could ascribe to her was that she trying to find out what his plans were, what he was preparing in his rehearsal room.

His work a year or two earlier as a pavement performer had given him a valuable lesson in the ways this town had of dealing with unconventional activity. The first few times he stood on a street corner and busked his guitar, policier officers had courteously but firmly moved him on. He had soon acceded to the inevitable and applied for, and was quickly granted, a street performer’s licence. After that, he was left alone.

One afternoon, when the woman’s behaviour had for some reason bothered him more than before, Thom went to the local policier office, applied for and was quickly granted another licence. This was for Live Performance and Rehearsal. In the part of the form where he had to enter a
Performance Description
he wrote the word Magician. Then, thinking that he should cover all possibilities, he added Illusionist, Conjuror, Prestidigitator, Thaumaturge, Wizard, and many more synonyms. He looked forward to being left alone by whoever was instructing this woman to watch him.

But a week later she was still shadowing him. By then Thom had another problem he had to solve.

HE COULD NOT PERFORM THE NEW ILLUSION WITHOUT AN
assistant. Indeed, the assistant was the essence of the illusion. What he required was a boy or a girl, or a very young man or woman, who was not only willing to work under the unusual directions of a stage magician but who above all was strong, lithe and athletic. Most of the magical effect of the trick would be gained by the acrobatic performance of the assistant.

He advertised. He tried asking among the people he knew in Beathurn. He approached model agencies and actors’ agents.

Applicants were few, and none of them turned out to be suitable. He waited, advertised again, asked around again. He had taken his own rehearsals of the illusion as far as possible – nothing more could be done until he had an assistant to work with. Once again
he began to wonder about the wisdom of trying to pursue a magical career in this place.

One morning, when he happened to be sleeping late, he was awakened by someone coming to his door. Dishevelled and barely dressed, Thom was greeted by a man who introduced himself as Gerres Huun. The Huuns were one of the better-known families in Beathurn, managers of several seigniorial tithe agencies in the town.

Huun had arrived with his daughter, an eighteen-year-old scholarship girl who was about to attend the Beathurn Multitechnic University, where she was to take a degree course in Body Tension Applications. Her name was Rullebet. She stood quietly beside her father while the two men discussed what she would be required to do if she was given the job. The father said, and Rullebet quickly confirmed, that she lived for athletics and other kinds of physical activity. She had seen Thom’s job when he first advertised it, but it was only now that she had managed to persuade her protective father to allow her to apply for it.

Thom was of course eager to explain that the work she would be asked to do, although unusual, was perfectly safe, that the hours expected of her were not long, that he would fulfil any special conditions her parents requested, and of course that she would be remunerated regularly and promptly.

Pleased in every way by Rullebet’s appearance and personality, he offered to show them the rehearsal room immediately. After Thom had hastily dressed, the three of them walked through the sunlit streets towards the restaurant building. On the way they passed through the square by the university, where he would normally stop for his morning coffee. It was a little later than his normal time. Thom wondered if he would see the woman who was shadowing him, but he saw no sign of her as they passed.

The high-ceilinged rehearsal room was cool, the windows shrouded with wooden blinds.

‘Would you please climb this metal pole,’ Thom said, when they were inside with the door locked. The pole was firmly mounted, connected to the floor and one of the ceiling joists. Before Rullebet was allowed to start her father checked it thoroughly to make sure it had been properly secured.

She then shinned up the pole in a matter of seconds. Her body movements were smooth and elegant and when she reached the top she contrived to swirl around it, arm raised in a graceful salute.

‘Is that all she will have to do?’ said Gerres Huun.

‘I require her for rehearsal,’ Thom replied. ‘That will take several intensive days, with warm-up practice before every performance.’

‘Full reward for rehearsals?’ said Huun.

‘Naturally,’ said Thom. ‘I will make credit available either to Rullebet herself or to you – or, if she prefers, I could pass the credit to the Body Tension department at the Multitechnic. I’ll also credit her with a bonus for every performance in front of the public. The first one of those is yet to be arranged, but I am eager to mount my illusions. I’m certain that now Rullebet will be working with me I can obtain a firm booking in the theatre, here in Beathurn. After that – who knows?’

‘I shall be expecting Rullebet to concentrate on her studies.’

‘I understand. And I want you to appreciate, sir, that I shall take the greatest of care with her, so that everything she wants of life will be possible. I hope this will even contribute to her studies at the Multi. And of course she will be paid well.’

While they were speaking, Rullebet slid down the pole with a gracious circling movement, and landed lightly on the floor. She acknowledged an unseen audience with a wave of her hand, a radiant smile and an easy curtsey.

THE MANAGEMENT OF THE COMMUNITY-RUN THEATRE WAS
reluctant to put on Thom’s new show. He underwent a discouraging interview with the woman in charge. She had avoided him for days but when he finally tracked her down she told him with evident bad grace that their audiences were tired of magic shows. She said that the last magician who performed at
Il-Palazz
had been released from his contract halfway through the week’s run.