The Stainless Steel Rat Joins the Circus

Chapter 4

One of the reasons we had rented this particular house was the fact that it had an immense living room. When all of the furniture had been removed and stuffed into the garage, the room became our stage. Blue curtains divided it, curtains that opened and closed at the touch of a button. Angelina and I, sitting in chairs that faced the curtain, became a happy audience. Watching while Grissini instructed the workmen as they assembled the apparatus for the Vanishing Porcuswine.

It looked simple enough. A two-sided cage made of metal slats was erected on the stage before a rear curtain, making a triangle with the curtain as one side, the slats the other two sides.

Only when the workmen had been well tipped and dismissed did Grissini turn his attention to us.

"The illusion is now ready," he said. "All we need now is a porcuswine."

"That will take a bit of doing," I said. "Couldn't we use another creature to demonstrate?"

He thought for a moment, then pointed at Angelina. "The effect is much greater, of course, with a large and threatening animal. However, for demonstration purposes, she will do. Come with me, my dear."

Grissini led her behind the rear curtains, then out through the gap in the curtains and into the cage.

"You must stand very still," he said. "Whatever happens you must not move. Do you understand?"

"Absolutely. Like a rock."

"Good. When this illusion is done correctly the porcuswine is chained and immobile. Now-we begin!"

He came back through the curtain just as he had gone in. Angelina stood demurely, hands folded before her as the Great Grissini faced his audience of one and bowed. I clapped enthusiastically.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, his amplified voice filling the room. "You have seen the handlers lead this dangerous porcuswine—lovely lady, sorry-into this cage. A cage made of solid steel, solid and unbreakable." He tapped his metaltipped wand against the slats, which gave a solid and satisfactory steel ring. "You have examined the solid locks and chains which secure this great creature in place." The shackles were in place. The porcuswine, unhappily, not. "There is no possible way to escape from this cage-except by magic. Magic that will astound and amaze you. Behold!"

Invisible drums rolled thunderously and then, in a final crashing crescendo, they stopped. In that very same instant a black curtain dropped between cage and audience. It remained for a single second before Grissini seized it and whisked it away.

"Angelina!" I cried aloud.

For she was gone, the cage was empty. I sprang to my feet and started to lunge forward.

"Patience!" Grissini ordered in a voice of thunder and I stopped, sat down, only an illusion. Then why was I soaked with sweat? It took a great effort of will to sit still while the magician went behind the rear curtain once again.

And reappeared with Angelina on his arm. I could no longer remain in my chair. I rushed forward to embrace her.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I don't know. Everything just went black until Grissini appeared and led me back here. What did you see?"

"Nothing. That is, the curtain fell for an instant-and you were gone."

"I don't think I was. Other than being in the dark I don't believe that I moved." She turned to face the smiling magician. "What happened?"

He bowed and swept his hand gracefully in the air. "I will be most happy to tell you, since you will be part of this illusion in the future." His smile broadened as he stabbed his finger theatrically into the air.

"It is all done with mirrors."

I am afraid that all we could do was gape blankly and adenoidally at this news. Yet it was true. He had us stand to the side, squarely facing the metal slats of one side of the cage.

"Now all will be revealed. Without the obscuring black curtain. Watch closely now-abracadabra!"

Instantly and silently the space between the slats became a mirror. We were looking at our shocked expressions. He laughed with pleasure.

"So simple-yet so convincing. The lengths of mirror are concealed behind the slats. Then they slide into place when I actuate them with this concealed radio control. To the audience the cage appears to be empty since they are looking at the blue side curtains reflected in the mirrors. While they gape the porcuswine is led away, the illusion is reversed, the mirrors vanish-and the cage is really empty this time. Simple and highly effective, is it not?"

"A showstopper and a winner," I said.

"I agree completely," Chaise said, strolling in through what had been a locked door. "You have been spending a lot of my money, Jim, and I had a natural desire to see where it was going. I have been reading your daily reports, as well as those of my agents of course. You are sure that this circus is connected with the thefts?"

"Computer programs don't lie. Every theft to every bank was logged. I ran search programs to examine the relevant dates in incredibly minute detail. News files were combed, spaceport and airport departures gone through meticulously. Some similar events did occur, but these were merely coincidences considering the amount of data that was searched and compared. Out of all this there was only a single overlap with the robberies. There were different circuses in every city when the thefts occurred. But the strongman, Puissanto, was in every one of them at the time."

Meanwhile the Great Grissini was staring at us, baffled by what was going on.

"Time for a break," Angelina said, taking him gently by the arm and leading him away. "With perhaps a small drink for your dry throat.

"The logic is sound," Chaise said, sitting down in a chair and pressing smooth the hairs of his fur morning suit. "However you have been paid a great deal of money and I would like to see some positive results. In fact, to encourage you in your investigation I am suspending your daily payments until you actually make contact with this suspect strongman."

"You can't do that!"

"Of course I can. Clause six, paragraph eighteen of our contract."

"I don't remember any clause that said that." My vision was blurred by the image of winged credits flying out into the night.

"You would if you had looked more closely at what you signed. You have a copy of the contract with you?"

"No. It's in the bank."

"A wise precaution. It just so happens that I have a copy with me, should you wish to peruse it."

He took a copy from his fur purse. No crisp vellum this time, but a printed copy. I read through it quickly, then raised it victoriously over my head. "I was right! There are only seventeen paragraphs in clause six."

"Indeed." Chaise did not seem disturbed by this announcement. He leaned over and pointed to end of the seventeenth paragraph. "And what do you think this is?"

I leaned close and blinked rapidly. "It looks like a blob of ink."

"Some might differ." He took a brass tube out of the bag and passed it over to me. "Look at it through this optic magnifier."

I did. "It still looks like a blob of ink."

"That is because the instrument is set on four times magnification. Try setting it to four hundred."

I found the setting wheel and gave it a twist. Looked again. The blob of ink resolved into a chunk of copy; paragraph eighteen. I was hooked.

"Do not despair," he advised. "Just work faster. This golden goal should act as some inspiration."

"It does! I'm on my way. Soon. My agent has been dealing with Bolshoi's Big Top and contracts have been drawn up. I will join them shortly, in time for opening night in Fetorr."

I spoke with firm resolution. A sales pitch to hide the fact that I had not mastered all of the illusions that I would need. Plus the fact that there wasn't a single porcuswine farm here on this pleasure planet. Still the fact remained that up until this moment Chaise had been a good and munificent employer and I wanted to keep him happy. Even if it meant being a little parsimonious with the truth. If he could renege on making the agreed daily payments, it seemed perfectly fair for me to massage the facts a little as well.

"See that you do arrive in time for opening night at the circus. For our mutual benefit," he said. "See you on opening night." He exited as swiftly as he had arrived and I went looking for Angelina, looking forward to one of those drinks she had talked about. She and Grissini were sitting and chatting in the atrium garden. I joined them and looked with more need than pleasure at a chilled and brimming glass that awaited me.

"Thank you," I said, and knocked it back in a single gulp.

Angelina's lovely eyebrows rose in a singularly questioning manner.

"Well some of us seem to have developed a sudden thirst. Trouble with Chaise?"

"Not exactly trouble. But not exactly pleasure as well. You know those little payments he has been making daily? It seems, according our contract, which contains a paragraph that looks like a blob of ink only isn't, that he can suspend them whenever he wishes. He now wishes. He will start them again when we join the circus."

"Blob of ink?" Angelina asked, puzzled.

"Only to the naked eye. Under magnification it becomes the dreaded paragraph."

"Then what we have been discussing before you came is most relevant. The Great Grissini and I have been talking about deadlines. Made more imperative now by the appearance of our employer."

"Everything cannot be done in time," Grissini said. Gulped from his glass and sighed. "You catch on quickly, but not quickly enough." I lowered my eyes and tried to look humble before my maestro. "I will see that you have enough illusions and tricks for a performance. But you will not be able to do the Vanishing Boy Sprout.. ."

"But I must! Your most famous turn. Why can't we do it?"

"Mainly because we don't have an eight-year-old Boy Sprout," Angelina said with chill logic. "I have looked into it and little boys are hard to find. Also against the law."

"My great blessing was that the Grissinis are a large family," he said. "I could always find a small cousin or nephew to aid me. Alas, all grown now and scattered to the far corners of the galaxy."

"Couldn't it be done without a boy?" I asked peevishly.

"Never! That is the strength of the illusion. The boy has been planted in the audience so he can volunteer. I always save this illusion for the last, the closing and most appreciated act of magic. To begin I shake out my great cape. A pigeon flies up, two rabbits hop away. The audience claps and applauds. I then raise my hands and there is a loud fanfare and a roll of thunder. The audience is instantly silent. I speak to them. This is the moment you have all been waiting for. Is there a Boy Sprout in the audience? In uniform? There are always a few. Show yourselves I say, and they spring to their feet. Come forward I cry. The first one here will join me in this next act of magic-and will receive twenty credits as well. They cry out and struggle to reach the stage first. But my assistant is seated in the first row, close to the aisle. He springs to his feet, pushing himself forwards. In doing so he brushes against people in his hurry, even stepping on their toes. Assuring all present that he really is a corporeal little boy. He assists me by bringing over a basket, sets it down before me. I take a length of rope and throw it into the basket. The boy waits patiently as the most eerie music begins. I make magical passes over the basket and the end of the rope appears, unsupported, and rises writhing into the air. The boy is just as impressed by this as is the audience. I wave him over and he passes behind me to approach the basket. The music grows louder still. Take the rope I command him and he draws back, afraid. I make a magical pass and his eyes roll back, his body stiffens. His will is now under my control. Now he does exactly what I order him to do. I wave my hand and he seizes the rope, then begins to climb it."

I nodded, enthralled by the illusion, actually seeing the boy climb, as impressed as the unseen audiences.

"And then-" he said dramatically, "-the boy reaches the top of the rope. The music ends with a mighty crash of the brasses, and I wave my hand. As I do this the boy is gone, vanished, and the rope falls limply back into the basket. I turn the basket over and the rope falls out. Nothing more. I bow and the curtain closes."

"Marvelous," Angelina said.

"How does it work?" I asked.

"Since you won't be doing it, you don't have to know."

And no amount of cajoling would get him to change his mind.

"I will not tell you. However I will reveal to you the il-. lusion of the levitating lady. The apparatus arrived this morning and I will go to install it." He rose, then turned to Angelina. "Did you purchase the black dress I mentioned?"

"1 did."

"Capital! If you would be so kind as to don it now, we will proceed."

I was left alone. Grissini was working, Angelina was dressing, I was drinking. Just enough to mellow me after Kaia's grim financial machinations. I had really begun to enjoy my morning calls to the bank.

"Do you like it?" Angelina said.

"Divine!" And it was-floor-length, black and velvety, fascinatingly low-cut above, flaring out when she turned.

"It will do," the Great Grissini said from the doorway. "Let us begin. I must instruct Angelina in her role." He looked at his watch. "Jim, you will join us in exactly a half an hour."

"Good as done," I said, looking at my own watch, then at the bottle. Well, maybe a small one while I marked the passage of time.

I was feeling remarkably mellow when I entered our home theater and took my seat. Dark curtains were drawn at the back of the stage. Which was empty save for three large cubes. Music welled up at Grissini's entrance and the maestro himself came on stage. He bowed to the audience and I clapped like fury.

"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, thank you. You must now prepare yourself for a magical thrill that will amaze, entrance and mystify you. Let us begin."

He walked over to the white cubes and tapped them with his wand; good, solid wood. Then he ran his fingers along his wand-and it vanished. Reaching down he turned the cubes, one by one, to face the audience, showing that they were foursided and open at both ends. Black outside, white inside and on the edges. His wand reappeared in his hand and he ran it through the opening of each one.

"Empty as you see. Simple, four-sided constructions, empty as you can see. I will now place them-so."

The wand vanished again to free his hands. He picked up the first box and walked over and placed it in the center of the stage. Then placed the others on each side of the first to make a platform. The wand reappeared to be tapped on their solid surfaces, passed through their open ends. This done he turned and bowed.

"Now, ladies and gentlemen and honored guests, I ask you to welcome my assistant, the lovely Angelina, who will assist me in this display of magic."

I clapped as loudly as I could, as any audience certainly would as my Angelina made her entrance. Slowly and seductively, smiling warmly and waving to the enthusiastic crowd of one.

Soft music welled up as Grissini took her hand and led her forward to bow. Then back to the row of cubes. Slowly and carefully, she sat down on the center cube, then swung her legs up and lay down on the cubes. She smiled at the audience, her right hand supporting her chin, her fill black skirt draped over the white edge of the cubes. Grissini was making magical passes over her in time with the music and his wand vanished yet again.

Then he bent over and pulled the center cube out from under her.

I gasped in awe, as any good audience would gasp, because she still lay there, unbending and straight as a die even though the center of her body was no longer supported.

Then I gasped even louder as he slowly pulled the supporting cube out from under her elbow so that she was floating in midair.

Floating totally in midair when he pulled away the third and last support.

She smiled and waved at me when Grissini looked away. I applauded until my hands hurt. The music crescendoed as he held up a large metal hoop, bounced it on the floor to prove its solidity—then slowly slipped it over her head. Moved it down the entire length of her body. Even around her feet to show that that she was truly suspended invisibly in midair. My hands were numb with unceasing applause.

The ring moved back the length of her body and was thrown, clanging, into the wings. Now the sprightly music accompanied the magician as, one by one, he slipped the white cubes back under her floating body. Then helped her down to join him in a bow. She came forward: I jumped to my feet to embrace her.

"My magical wife!" I cried aloud. "Didn't the wires hurt?"

"No wires. You saw the ring go the entire length of my body."

"I did-and I didn't understand it. Real magic?"

"Let us rather say real illusion."

Grissim exited-towards the atrium I noticed; magic can be exhausting. Or perhaps he did not want to be there when his magic secrets were revealed.

"I still don't understand how it is done. Something about the cubes maybe?"

"No. They are exactly what they seem to be. Solid wood. Placed in a row you will remember. Then I made my entrance, you will remember."

"Unforgettable!"

"But distracting. Grissini walked across the stage to greet me and the spot stayed on him as he moved. Distraction. That is when the magic happened-not later when he took the boxes away."

"Of course! Many magic tricks occur well before the trick is seen to be happening. The audience was looking at you and him. And not looking at the boxes. That was when the illusion occurred."

I went to look at the spot where the boxes had been placed close to the black curtains at the rear of the stage. The illusion was so good that I was a foot away before I saw it.

A thin black platform, floating in midair, that had supported Angelina.

"But that is magic as well! That can't just float there."

I looked closely at it, under it, then ran my hands along it.

To find the strong black steel beam that protruded from the curtains. Undoubtedly supported by a strong frame hidden by the curtains. Understanding struck.

"Of course! That platform wasn't there when he walked around the stage, then put the boxes into place. Only when he went to greet you and the spotlight followed him. In the darkness, radio-controlled undoubtedly, the beam came forward and slid the platform into place atop the boxes. Invisible from the audience because it was black like the tops of the boxes. But the ring-it went the length of your body, even past your shoes-"

"And back," she reminded. "The loop was big enough for the back of the loop to stop when it reached the supporting bar. Big enough for the front of the ring to go past my feet and even behind me."

"Of course! It had to come back the way it came on because the bar was stopping it from going all the way. What a wondrous effect!"

We went to join Grissini and to congratulate him. He shrugged it off as his accepted due. And shook an admonitory finger.

"You have little time left and very much more to learn."

He was right, of course. I had only a week to go.

I worked even harder. Drank nothing and slept only a few hours a night. And I practiced. By this time I was adroit at producing large birds from apparent thin air, and could draw hundreds of flags from an empty tube. I practiced with the floating apparatus, which Angelina greatly enjoyed, until I had the illusion under perfect control.

I could even read written questions from the audience by pressing the papers with their questions to my forehead.

I was most happy when I learned to do this. It had always impressed me on stage. And the illusion was so simple. I read the name of the first questioner and he responded from the audience. After answering his written question, I opened it and read his name aloud again. Discarded the paper and took another one. Which I read aloud as the audience gasped.

But the first question had been a plant, the man in the audience my accomplice. When I glanced at his question to verify it-it was not his question at all. But the first real question. Memorized and read out while the second real question was on my forehead. I was one question ahead all of the time. Illusion! Misdirection!

The week was over, our bags packed, tickets bought. It was time to go-and begin earning money again. It hurt to spend my own money as I had been doing since Chaise produced his microscopic contract.

We all shook hands and the Great Grissini was not looking that great.

"It was nice to be working again," he said, then sighed heavily.

"I will be ever grateful for your aid. Sorry it had to end so quickly." I turned away, trying not to see the pathos in his eyes.

"Take care of yourself," Angelina said. He grimaced.

"It will be Happy Hectares that will be doing the caring," he said. No pleasure in his voice.

I got ready to plant the prepared spear-but I could not.

"Look," I said. "It was a privilege to work with you, to bring some happiness into your life. And it is going to continue, I promise that."

"What do you mean?"

"The bank. They'll send you a check every week. Enough to buy better food and decent drink and all the little pleasures of life that make it worth living."

He was shocked at the thought. Then his eyes narrowed. "What's the catch? Why you doing this?"

"Because he is a nice man," Angelina said.

"Not that nice," I said. "I had not planned to be so uncommonly generous. Let us say I have had a change of heart."

"Jim-what in the world are you talking about?" She looked puzzled.

"I just couldn't go through with it. You see, I was going to arrange for the payments to continue, but only in exchange for … the secret of the Vanishing Boy Sprout. But I have to look at myself in the mirror every day. And the one crime I have suddenly realized that I have never committed is blackmail. I'm a little too old to start that kind of thing now. So enjoy your retirement. And think of me every night when you celebrate the cocktail hour." I whistled to our luggage and tiny motors hummed as they followed after us.

"I don't believe it!" he called after us.

"Believe it," Angelina said. "Tough-as-nails diGriz is really an old sweetie at heart."

"I'll blush if you keep that up," I said as I kissed her on the cheek. I had reached the cab when the door opened behind us.

"I'll tell you," he said. "My decision."

"Our spacer won't wait," Angelina said.

"This won't take a minute. You should have picked up on it when I said the boy walked behind me. Out of sight of the audience for a moment. Misdirection."

"Something happened then!" I shouted happily. "But what?" I muttered gloomily.

"He stopped. Concealed by my cape. That's why I always close with this illusion. When it is over the curtain comes down. He runs into the wings before the curtain comes up again and I take my bows."

"But-if he doesn't climb the rope-who does?"

"An image. That was not a rope that rose from the basket it was the image of a rope. At the precise moment that the boy walked behind me I actuated the holograph projector to continue with the recording. The rope apparently rising in the air before me is just a holographic image of a rope. Remember the real boy stopped and is hidden by my cape. Now the holographic image of the boy walks out from behind me so that it is his image that appears to climb the image of the rope-"

"And disappears as only an image can. The image of the rope falls back into the basket and only the real rope remains."

"The curtain closes," Angelina laughed, "and the crowd leaves, happily pleased. As we do, maestro. You are really great, the Great Grissini."

We left him bowing-he left us laughing. It really was a great performance.