A Calculated Magic

31

Jack’s scheme called for him to use the uniform of one of the security guards as a disguise. The notion made perfect sense until their actual run-in with the security force. Jack had never thought to explain his full plan to Alis and Candi. He now realized that had been a major mistake.

Cassandra, walking casually beside him, her arm linked with his, stifled a giggle as he tripped over his pants for the third time. All three of the ghuls had been giants. Their pants rolled down past Jack’s shoes while their jackets stretched to his knees. In a hurry, without any sort of sewing equipment, he managed the best he could, rolling up and tucking in. But he couldn’t walk more than a dozen steps without one garment or another betraying him.

His companions found his predicament endlessly amusing. Cassandra, forced to endure the entire weekend in garments she found degrading, took particular pleasure in gently mocking Jack’s efforts. Gritting his teeth, he stumbled along, trying not to attract attention.

Fortunately, that didn’t prove to be very difficult. Invisible on his shoulders, the ravens provided directions through the maze of linked chambers that led to the solitary bridge across the moat of fire. Approximately half of the rooms were occupied by two or more nymphs. None of them expressed the least interest in Jack or Cassandra.

Keeping his mind on his destination was the hard part. In keeping with the traditional trappings of Paradise, modern means of entertainment such as TVs, radios, or CD players were not allowed. Instead, the women in the chambers were forced to amuse themselves in other fashions. A few played chess or checkers. Most of the rest indulged in procedures that had Jack gasping for breath and averting his eyes. There was only so much a man could bear to watch.

“Are we almost there?” Jack muttered after staggering through a chamber occupied with six nymphs engaged in a complex act he would have sworn impossible to accomplish. He wiped the sweat off his forehead. “Otherwise, I might have to put on a blindfold.”

“Two more rooms,” answered Mongo. “Do you find the sexual practices of the female of your species disturbing? Strange. Hugo and I consider their actions extremely fascinating.”

“We view them from different perspectives,” said Jack. “Take my word for it.”

“If you insist,” said Mongo. “Birds don’t engage in orgies. I think that is why we find them so intriguing.”

“Just find the damned moat,” said Jack. “And cut the chatter.”

“I was merely trying to keep you from getting nervous,” said Mongo, sounding miffed. “The entrance is through that portal.”

“Thank the Lord,” Jack said, and pulled open the door. And found himself staring at a vision of hell.

The center of Paradise consisted of a crater eighty feet in diameter. It was circled completely by a narrow rock rim four feet in diameter Unlike the rooms surrounding it, the crater was not covered by a roof. Instead, the stone ceiling of the cavern was visible thirty-five feet from the floor. The walls of the chambers stretched half that distance, forming a natural amphitheater. The only break in the brick surface was the door from which they had emerged.

A sea of fiery lava bubbled and fizzed fifteen feet below the crater’s rim. Jack gasped for air. The ravens hadn’t exaggerated when they described the place. It was hot as Hades in the crater.

Directly in the middle of the molten rock was a circular finger of stone twenty feet across. Sitting on it as a small cinder-block cottage. “That’s where the sphinx is holding Megan prisoner,” said Mongo unnecessarily. “Which is your second obstacle. The first one is sitting on the bridge over there.”

“Over there” was thirty feet around the rim of the crater, A white marble bridge, ten feet wide, extended from the edge of the pit to the island at its center. Chained to the foot of the span by two massive chains waited Cerberus, the three-headed guardian of the gate.

“You birds positive you know exactly what to do?” asked Jack. “One mistake and Cassandra and I are dog chow.”

“I’m set, Johnnie,” said Mongo.

“Me too,” answered Hugo. “Let’s do it.”

Drawing in a deep breath, Jack started walking toward the immense hound. All three heads growling faintly, the huge beast rose to its feet. Adamite steel links rustled with its every movement. Six saucer-size eyes glared at them as they approached. Jack, never a dog person, forced one foot after another. He felt as if he were walking right into the mouth of Hell. The three mouths of Hell, to be exact.

“He won’t hinder our passage across the bridge,” said Cassandra. “The hound is trained to let people enter the infernal regions. Coming back is when we’ll experience problems. Crossing should be a snap.”

“I know that,” said Jack. “You know that. I’m praying that the big, nasty dog knows it.”

Step by step, they advanced until they stood directly in front of the beast. While it glared ferociously at them, the monster otherwise made no move to halt their progress.

“Get out of my way, hound,” commanded Jack, trying to keep his voice from trembling. Dogs sensed your fear and reacted to it, he recalled someone once telling him. Act unafraid and they would step out of your path. “We want to cross the bridge.”

Snarling in triplicate, the three-headed monster shifted position to let them pass. Gaze fastened on the cottage that was their final destination, Jack slid by the hound. It wasn’t just the heat rising from the pit making him sweat. The bridge was littered with smashed and broken bones. Human bones. According to Alis, the Old Man of the Mountain disciplined unruly followers by leaving them in Hell for a few days. Evidently, more than a few had unsuccessfully tried to escape.

Fifteen feet beyond the beast, Jack started breathing again. They had gotten past the first obstacle. The sphinx was next. Mentally, Jack reviewed his trivia question. Though it had been years since he taught elementary calculus, he nevertheless remembered Zeno’s paradox perfectly. Some problems were too good to forget.

The door to the building stood wide open. As they drew closer, two figures emerged. Jack’s heart leapt for joy when he spotted Megan. His girlfriend was still dressed in her red silk nightgown. She looked a bit frazzled but otherwise unharmed. Unfortunately, she was not alone. Standing next to her, watching them with suspicious eyes, was the sphinx.

If Cerberus was a zoologist’s bad dream, then the sphinx was his worst nightmare. The monster combined body parts of human, lion, reptile, and bird into a bizarre living jigsaw puzzle. Though it possessed the head of a beautiful woman, Jack noted that when the sphinx opened its mouth to speak, it had the teeth of a lion. They worked better, he concluded grimly, when it devoured its victims.

“Who are you and what do you want?” asked the sphinx. It spoke with a woman’s voice, but there were hints of a reptile’s hiss, a bird’s trill, and a lion’s roar in its tone. “I expected no one for another day.”

“Plans have changed,” announced Jack. Megan, watching without much interest, stiffened in shock. She hadn’t recognized Jack or Cassandra, with their disguised features and unusual outfits, until she heard her fiancée’s voice. Her smile of relief vanished almost instantly as she looked at the sphinx, then at Jack, then again to the monster. She obviously realized that Jack had come to rescue her but had no idea how. She was about to find out.

“I heard of no change,” said the sphinx, staring at Jack and Cassandra with undisguised hostility. “Hasan always telephones me if there is a change.”

“Telephones you,” repeated Jack, his mind racing for a reply. “Well, the phone company is working on the lines today. The Old Man of the Mountain sent me here to get the girl. He wants her right away.”

“Nonsense,” said the sphinx. “She stays…”

“I’ve heard that you brag that you know the answer to nearly every question in the world,” interrupted Jack hurriedly. “I find that difficult to believe.”

“You do?” said the sphinx, unfurling its wings. There was a nasty edge to its voice. “Why is that, human?”

“Because my friend Zeno has been hunting the solution to his riddle for years and hasn’t been able to find it. And he’s remarkably intelligent.”

“Zeno?” growled the sphinx. “A common Greek name associated with several ancient philosophers. Tell me this conundrum, mortal, and it better be an interesting one. I don’t take kindly to being insulted. Brag, indeed.”

The sphinx’s display of teeth made it quite clear what she did to those who disappointed her. Jack hardly noticed. He had hooked his fish. Now it was time to reel her in. It had taken mathematicians over two thousand years to resolve Zeno’s paradox. He doubted that the sphinx could solve it in less time.

“I’ll state the question in simple terms,” said Jack. “Achilles and a tortoise decided to have a race. The famous hero, feeling sorry for his slow-moving opponent, decides to be fair and gives the turtle a head start. But according to my friend, Zeno, this simple act of charity leads to the conclusion that no matter how fast Achilles runs, he is unable to pass the tortoise.”

“Are you sure this question has an answer?” asked the sphinx warily. “It isn’t one of those stupid riddles about barbers and shaving?”

“Let the Kindly Ones tear the flesh from my bones if I lie,” declared Jack solemnly. Cassandra had suggested the oath, one not given lightly, in view of recent happenings at the resort. “This question is asked and answered in high schools throughout the United States.”

“Continue,” said the sphinx. “I’ve read plenty about the state of education in this country,” The monster contemplated the claws in one gigantic paw. “If your wretched students can unravel this riddle, then so can I. Ask and I will answer.”

“Since Achilles gives the turtle a head start,” continued Jack, “he first has to reach the point where the turtle starts, which we will name A1. However, during this time, the tortoise has advanced further, to point A2. Thus, Achilles must cover the distance from Al to A2. But, while he does that, the turtle continues on to point A3. Each time Achilles crosses the distance to the next point, the turtle has inched on to yet a further point.”

The sphinx frowned. “But Achilles must pass the turtle sooner or later.”

“Must he?” asked Jack. “To pass the turtle, Achilles must complete an infinite number of acts in a finite amount of time. Since traversing each distance takes some time, traveling an infinity of them will take an infinite amount of time. Thus, while Achilles draws nearer and nearer to the tortoise, he never overtakes him,” He spread his arms in bewilderment. “How can such things be?”

The sphinx scratched its head. The expression on its face was indescribable, though Jack had seen it many times before on the faces of his students. The monster was lost in a mathematical wilderness. “I need a moment or two to think things through. Give me a second.”

“Why not,” said Jack. “Take your time. Maybe draw a diagram. That might help.”

“Good idea,” said the sphinx. Claws sharper than steel scratched a line into stone. Eyes narrowing to points, the monster stared at the picture as if confronting an enemy.

“If Achilles starts here,” the sphinx muttered, marking off one point, “and the turtle starts here…”

Cautiously, Jack stepped a fool closer to Megan. The sphinx didn’t notice. It appeared mesmerized by its drawing. Jack tiptoed closer, at the same time beckoning to his sweetheart to circle the monster. A few seconds later, their hands closed in a brief embrace.

“While Achilles moves from A10 to A11,” declared the sphinx, shaking its head in annoyance but otherwise remaining captivated by the diagram, “the turtle advances from All to A12. The distance between them continues to shrink, but it nonetheless remains,” The monster snorted in disgust. “When he moves to A12, the turtle is at A13…”

The sphinx never saw them leave. If it was like most of the fanatic Trivial Pursuit players of Jack’s acquaintance, nothing short of the island sinking into the lava would tear it away from the enigma. The sphinx was trapped by a paradox that had confounded philosophers and mathematicians for twenty centuries.

“What would you have done if the beast knew calculus?” Megan whispered in one ear, kissing him delightfully as she did so. Among her many charms, his fiancée was an accomplished mathematician. “Or studied the theory of limits?”

“I held Cantor’s theorem proving that the infinity of the irrational numbers is larger than the infinity of the integers in reserve,” replied Jack, grinning. “I came well prepared.”

“I hope so,” said Megan, shuddering. “Because Cerberus looks hungry. And he’s not interested in trivia.”

They had advanced halfway across the marble bridge. Only a few yards separated them from the three-headed dog. This time, it did not step aside to let them pass. As Cassandra had remarked, Cerberus was trained to admit people into hell. It did not allow them to leave.

Jack crossed his fingers and reached into the small bag he carried beneath his shirt. His hand emerged with a fistful of dog biscuits. “Be ready to run,” he advised Megan as he raised his arm.

“You don’t really think that monster will be distracted by dog food?” she replied anxiously.

“Not in the least,” said Jack, flinging the biscuits forward. They landed at the monster’s feet. Sniffing, one of the hound’s three heads bent over to examine the food. “That’s just the signal.”

“Signal for what?” asked Megan.

Cerberus howled. Two of its heads jerked upward into the air, snapping at things not visible to the naked eye. The third head, caught unawares, was pulled along. The path to the outer rim was momentarily clear.

“For that,” shouted Jack. Grabbing Megan by the hand, he hurtled past the baying hound. Cassandra followed close behind. They were on the ledge, nearly at the door, before Cerberus ever noticed they were gone. A few seconds later, the trio crowded into the empty chamber on the other side of the portal.

“Neat trick,” said Megan, hugging Jack passionately. Cassandra tactfully stared in the other direction. “How did you manage it?”

“Not me,” said Jack, disentangling his girlfriend’s arms from around his waist. Kissing Megan was one of life’s great pleasures, but they were running on a tight schedule. “The birds did it.”

“The ravens?” said Megan.

“Yeah, the ravens, sweetie,” said Hugo, flashing visible for an instant as it landed on Jack’s right shoulder. In one claw, the blackbird held a slender piece of metal. Cawing, the bird waved the instrument about. “Us and these marvelous things called high-frequency dog whistles.”

“It occurred to me,” said Jack, “that three heads on one body presented a major dilemma in mental mechanics. Coordinating movement among a trio of separate entities is difficult enough under ordinary circumstances, much less when they’re linked together by muscle and bone. I merely overloaded Cerberus’s capacity for synchronized action.”

Jack patted Hugo on the head fondly. “Hugo and Mongo flew around two of the hound’s heads blowing their ultrasonic whistles. You saw Cerberus’s reaction to the racket. The shrill noise drove the dog crazy. It had to attack the cause. But, the hound couldn’t physically direct three entirely distinct motions at once. As we were the least painful distraction, the monster ignored us and concentrated on the birds.”

“My Logical Magician,” declared Megan cheerfully. “I knew you would rescue me. I never gave up hope, even after losing thirty-one games in a row of Trivial Pursuit. What’s next on the agenda?”

“First,” said Jack, “you have to take off that nightgown…”

“Jack,” giggled Megan, “don’t you think we should wait till we have more time?”

“…and put on this costume I brought with me,” Jack concluded, his face red as Megan’s lingerie. His girlfriend wasn’t as raunchy as the nymphs in Paradise, but she tried. “Dressed like a houri, you’ll blend in with the rest of the girls as we make our escape.”

“Prepare yourself to be exposed to scenes of utter depravity,” warned Cassandra as Megan, not the least bit self-conscious, stripped off her nightgown and pulled on the transparent harem garments. Jack, gentleman at heart, turned his head while she changed. Though afterward, seeing Megan’s stunning figure totally revealed in the wispy material, he wondered why he bothered.

“I’m a big girl,” Megan declared. “Living most of my life in the big city, I doubt if anything can shock me.”

The two ravens clearly took Megan’s statement as a challenge. They steered Jack and his two female companions on a completely different path to the locker room. On this trip, none of the rooms were empty. And each chamber provided a scene more scandalous than the one preceding it.

After a few minutes, Jack mentally dubbed their route the “orgy circuit,” Chess and checkers were nowhere to be seen. Instead, the nymphs were engaged in much more stimulating games. Their behavior added new meaning to the word outrageous. Jack concentrated as best as humanly possible on searching each room they entered for the door. He preferred retaining a few private sexual fantasies, and the nymphs’ conduct left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

Fortunately, Jack’s uniform gained them clear passage through the byways of Paradise. Most of the nymphs ignored them completely. The few that were physically able to stare in their direction did so for an instant, then returned to their other pursuits. No one questioned their presence as they journeyed from one chamber to another. Making idle conversation was not something that concerned the nymphs. They were too busy using their mouths in other ways.

Megan’s reaction to their first orgy was a muffled “oh,” Five nymphs engaged in a clearly impossible sexual position elicited an even quieter “oh, oh,” When they were forced to weave their steps between a dozen women moaning simultaneously in pleasure, Megan’s “oh, oh, oh,” was nearly inaudible.

To Jack’s relief, the door leading out of that particular room brought them to an empty chamber. Which, in turn, exited into the guards’ retreat. Too much of a good thing, Jack decided, thankful to be free of Paradise, was too much.

While Cassandra checked the ghuls, carefully ensuring they were securely bound and remained in dreamland, Megan changed into the skirt and blouse Jack had brought for her, “I take back everything I said,” she declared somberly when she was finished. “I guess I’m not as worldly as I thought. I still can be shocked.”

“Which,” replied Jack, “is nothing to be ashamed about. That’s one of the things that makes us human.”

Megan grinned. “That’s also one of the things I love about you. Jack Collins. You have a wonderful talent for saying the right words at the right times.”

She reached out and drew Jack’s face to hers. He didn’t resist. Life was too short not to pause a few instants to enjoy a kiss. Especially with the most dangerous events of the evening yet to come.