The Garden of Unearthly Delights (14 page)

‘It was
a kestrel.’

‘No
matter. Its ears were my ears.’

‘Then
those animals that plague Dave —
you
cause them.’

‘My
subjects must be kept on their toes. Dave’s job is to keep watch on the high
street, greet all strangers and direct them here, by one means or another.’

Maxwell’s
knees showed no signs yet of supporting him, which was a shame, considering how
dearly he wished to put them into service.

‘Interesting
things, computers,’ said MacGuffin the mage.

‘I
never found them particularly so.’

‘It is
said that they caused the downfall of the old aeon, you know.’ MacGuffin dipped
a bread soldier into his tea and sucked upon it. ‘Formed a global link,
hard-wired the planet. Blew its natural fuse.’

‘That
wouldn’t surprise me one bit.’

‘I have
one,’ said the mage. ‘Well, half a one. Your mission, should you choose to
accept it — and you will —            would be to supply me with the missing
half.’

‘Have
you ever heard of the word,
electricity?’
Maxwell asked.

‘Of
course. Have you ever heard of the word,
iconolagny?’

‘No.’

‘Good.
This computer does not require electricity. It requires its other half. Let me
show it to you.’ MacGuffin clapped his hands together. ‘Aodhamm, come,’ he
called.

There
came the sounds of movement on the stairs beneath: dragging footsteps.
Frankensteinian dragging footsteps, horrible monstrous Frankensteinian dragging
footsteps.

Maxwell
shifted uneasily on his knackered bent-wood.

‘Get a
move on, you idle bugger,’ called MacGuffin. The horrible monstrous
Frankensteinian dragging footsteps drew nearer and nearer.

Something
entered the room.

Maxwell
gawped.

This
something was no graveyard nasty. This something was a something of such rare
and almost unutterable beauty, that a man might expect to view such a something
only once in his lifetime.

Or
twice if he was very lucky.

Or
three times, if he was Mr David Doveston of Bronwyn Terrace, Harlech, who is
blessed of the gods and regularly has Jesus round to tea.

Maxwell
might have managed ‘Rock ‘n’ Roll’, but he was speechless.

The
something of rare and almost unutterable beauty shuffled into the high-domed
room, bringing with it a golden radiance that seemed to make the very air
vibrate.

It was
a man. But such a man. A man of bronze (though not Doc Savage). A man of
burnished bronze, of metal. Perfect in form. An Adonis. Quite naked.
Embarrassingly so.

Maxwell
turned away his face. This wonderful creation did not belong here, in this
house of perversity. ‘Who is he?’ Maxwell asked.

‘What
is he. He is an automaton. A robot. A computer.’

Maxwell
shook his head. ‘But he lives, surely.’ He glanced at the beautiful man, who
stood with downcast eyes, exuding, for all his radiance, an aura of unbearable
sadness.

‘He is
but a toy,’ said MacGuffin the mage. ‘An exotic toy. But he yearns for his
mate.’

‘His
mate?’

‘His
other half; her name is Ewavett. You will reunite them.’

Maxwell
tried to picture the other half. As beautiful as this? More beautiful by nature
of its femininity? And he could picture, without difficulty and without going
into detail, just what plans MacGuffin had for these two once they were
reunited, what entertainments he might expect them to provide.

‘He is
no toy,’ said Maxwell. ‘No robot. Can he speak?’ Maxwell glanced back up at the
metal man.
‘Can
you speak?’

The
metal man just hung his head and stared blankly at the floor.

‘He
seldom speaks. He can perform a few basic tasks. He is made of metal, Maxwell.
Come, Aodhamm, let Maxwell have a feel of you.’

The
shining figure shuffled over to the table and reached out an elegant hand. It
was clearly metal, although not jointed, or hinged, but flowing like mercury.’

‘Go
on,’ said MacGuffin. ‘Have a good feel.’

‘No,’
said Maxwell. ‘Somehow it isn’t right. I won’t.’

‘As you
please. Aodhamm, be gone.’

Aodhamm
turned away and left the room upon dragging naked feet.

‘So,’
said MacGuffin. ‘You have seen him. You have seen his sorrow. You will restore
his other half to him. Yes?’

‘No,’
said Maxwell. ‘Well possibly,’ said Maxwell. ‘Well, yes,’ said Maxwell. ‘But I
want to know a good deal more. If he is a robot, which I doubt, who made him?
And where? And how did you come by him? And how did he get separated from his
mate? And who has his mate now? And—’

‘That’s
quite enough ands. You will restore Ewavett to him?’

 ‘Yes,’
said Maxwell. ‘If I can.’

‘Good,’
said MacGuffin. ‘Then you have at last found a purpose. That is good.’

Good
for Aodhamm, thought Maxwell, but not good for you.

‘But
can you be trusted?’ asked MacGuffin.

‘To
restore Aodhamm’s mate to him? Absolutely.’

‘But
can
I
trust you, Maxwell?’

 ‘I
have said I will attempt to do what you ask. What more can I say?’

‘You
could say, to yourself of course, I will restore Aodhamm’s mate to him, but not
for the voyeuristic pleasure of the odious MacGuffin; him I will seek to slay,
as soon as the opportunity presents itself.’

‘As if
I would,’ said Maxwell.

‘As if
you would,’ said MacGuffin. ‘So I can trust you implicitly?’

‘I
swear that you can,’ said Maxwell, crossing his heart with his right hand, and
the fingers of his left beneath the table.

‘Excellent,’
said MacGuffin. ‘Excellently excellent. Then the action that I now perform is
nothing more than a formality.’

‘And
what action might this be?’

MacGuffin
smiled through his golden nose-ring. ‘I’m going to remove your soul,’ said he.

9

‘No!’ Maxwell fought to
bring life to his knees. ‘Whatever you’re going to do, don’t!’

‘Tut, tut,
tut.’ MacGuffin shook a big finger at Maxwell. ‘You have sworn that I can trust
you. So now, that the balance of equilibrium be maintained, I swear with equal
sincerity that you can trust me.’

Maxwell
made a bitter face. ‘Irony, I can take,’ said he, ‘but death is quite another
matter. Please let me go. I truly, truly promise you can trust me.’

‘And I believe
you, really I do. But I am an old-fashioned fellow and well set in my ways. So
pardon me if I go about my own business in my own fashion. Radical changes
rarely bring forth pleasing results. This lesson, I feel, is one that you
yourself are coming to learn.’

‘There
is much I could learn from a man of your genius,’ said Maxwell, putting his
brain into first gear. ‘Much that you could teach a willing pupil.’

‘Much
more than you could ever imagine.’

‘A
willing pupil, once taught, could manage the affairs of the village,’ said
Maxwell, ‘giving his master more time to engage in his private pursuits. Such a
pupil—’

‘Maxwell,’
said MacGuffin, ‘don’t bullshit the bullshitter, there’s a good fellow. Now,
let’s get on with it.’

MacGuffin
clapped his hands together. ‘Come, cabinet,’ he called, and at his calling, and
to Maxwell’s further amazement, a long glass-topped cabinet, ominously
coffin-shaped and brass-bound at the corners, entered the room, floating
several inches above the floor.

‘Over
here,’ called MacGuffin the mage. ‘And get a move on, do.’

The
cabinet swung around and dropped to the floor with a thud.

‘Careful,’
said MacGuffin.

‘Sorry,’
said the cabinet.

Maxwell
beat furiously upon his knees, but to no avail.

The
magician flipped open the long glass top and explored the cabinet’s interior.
Upon velvet cushioning rested a number of crystal globes, each approximately
the size of a small melon or a large orange or a very large grape or an
absolutely enormous blackberry or a severely shrunken pumpkin, depending on
your taste in fruit and your sense of proportion.

MacGuffin
dipped in his prodigious fingers and lifted one out. He went ‘Hhhh’ upon it and
buffed it gently upon his sleeve, before leaning across the table and placing
it before Maxwell.

‘What is
this?’ Maxwell asked.

‘What
do you think it is?’

‘A
crystal globe, exactly the size of a nineteenth-century French ceramic carpet
bowl.’

‘Is
that supposed to be funny?’ MacGuffin asked.

Maxwell
shrugged. ‘Search me.’

‘Then
look inside the globe.’

Maxwell
leaned forward and peered in. ‘By the Goddess,’ said he, falling back in his
chair. ‘It’s Rushmear the horse dealer. How did he get inside there?’

MacGuffin
took the globe into his possession.

‘This
is not the flesh-and-blood Rushmear. This is his spiritual homunculus, his
etheric stuff His
soul,
if you like.’

‘I do
not like. Then Rushmear is dead?’

‘No. He
is very much alive for now. And working hard for me far away to the north. I
hope he is working.’ MacGuffin gave the crystal globe a sharp tap with the ring
upon his thumb.

An
agonized cry echoed about the room. It did not come from the crystal globe.

Maxwell
made a frightened face. ‘What was that?’

‘Just a
little reminder to Rushmear to keep on the job. Not that I think he needs one.’

‘So Rushmear
is away searching for Ewavett?’

‘His
physical self is. His soul remains here, under my control, to be returned to
him should he successfully complete his mission.

‘I’m
sure you can rely on Rushmear,’ said Maxwell. ‘He’s a most determined fellow.
With him on the case, you have no need to send me. So, shall we discuss what
duties you would like me to perform about the house?’

‘Such
discussions can wait until
you
return.’

‘Fair
enough,’ said Maxwell. ‘But for all we know Rushmear might return at any moment
with Ewavett by his side.’

‘That
is somewhat optimistic.’

‘You’re
right. Let’s give him a week, or perhaps two. Then if he has not returned, I
will set out and see what’s become of him.’

MacGuffin
shook his head wearily. ‘Spare me your wheedlings, Maxwell, you set out today
and that is that.’

‘But
I—’

‘Enough,
Maxwell, or I seal up your mouth.’

Maxwell
raised his hand politely.

‘Go on
then, but make it brief.’

‘Look,’
said Maxwell, ‘I don’t understand any of this. How can Rushmear be up north
somewhere working for you, and his soul be here?’

MacGuffin
returned the crystal globe to the cabinet. ‘Through refined magic it is
possible to separate a man’s soul from his body without the man dying. Such
magic calls for considerable refinement and much practice. I have slipped up a
few times in the past. Well, a great many times. But I have the knack of it
now. But body and soul can only be kept apart for a limited period: a lunar
month. Twenty-three days.’

‘A
lunar month is twenty-eight days,’ said Maxwell.

‘I
would not recommend that you put it to the test. So, as I say. If body and soul
remain apart a day longer, then—’

‘I get
the picture. As a matter of interest, how many others are presently away
seeking Ewavett for you?’

MacGuffin
examined the rows of globes and shook his head sadly. ‘Only Rushmear, I regret.
As for the others,’ he shrugged, ‘you just can’t get the help nowadays, can
you?’

Maxwell
shook his head dismally.

‘But,
if at first you don’t succeed, and all that. Perhaps you will bump into
Rushmear and the two of you join forces.

Maxwell
shook his head even more dismally.

‘Allow
me to tell you this. Ewavett is presently in the possession of a magician by
the name of Sultan Sergio Rameer. He rules over a city called—’

‘Rameer?’
Maxwell asked.

‘You’ve
been there?’

‘Just a
lucky guess.’

‘His
influence extends over a considerable distance, so it will be necessary for me
to set you down at the border of his kingdom.’

‘Set me
down?’

‘I will
arrange your transportation there. You must find your own way back. If you are
successful, this should present no difficulty.’