A Sudden Wild Magic

Mark found a window for the next full Moon. It was a very small one, but it would serve, provided everything was synchronized to the second. Laputa-Blish would then be, as far as Gladys could tell, at a high point in one of its eccentric, wobbling circuits of its parent universe, and slightly inclined toward Earth. In this position, the capsule could clear the pirate defenses and reach Laputa-Blish without spending too long in the dubious interstitial stuff between universes. That was important. The moment it left Earth’s universe, the circles of magic users sending it would lose touch with it. It would have to rely on its own inbuilt defenses, and no one wanted it to have to do that for too long.

According to Mark, who had been strenuously calculating for most of a month now, the window was all right, but the other influences were iffy. Much that was good was streaming in the inner spheres, but there was strong, obscure opposition too. “Perhaps we should wait for a more favorable Moon?” he said doubtfully.

The others vetoed this. There was, no one quite knew why, a general feeling that it was now or never. Mark, even as he gave in, admitted to having the feeling too — as if the pirates were breathing down their necks and would read over their shoulders what they were doing if they left the attack to wait any longer.

Gladys and Maureen, with occasional crisp interventions from Amanda, devised a very strong double ritual, whose purpose was cleverly hidden from all but the four of them. After that, as Gladys said, they had reason to be glad that the Ring was so well organized. The Outer Ring accepted the ritual without question and went to work on the mass of detailed arrangements whereby it was distributed and timed to synchronize all over the country. Gladys, as always, gave marveling chuckles. The groups of magic users were so various. The circles of serious, educated witches were only a small part of them, and to them the word could be handed down openly; but there were hereditary covens, who required secret negotiations; groups of amateurs who thought they were playing independently at magic, who needed to be nudged to do the right thing at the right time; spiritualists to be hinted at to meet and perform a specially adapted rite, which they did not see as a rite at all; individual magicians who did not know they were being organized; prayer groups, mediums, dowsers, meditators, and also numbers of people who imagined themselves to be charlatans and cheats, all of whom had to be induced to put forth power in a certain direction at the same time; and last but not least, there were the several mighty Orders of trained magicians, who needed very careful handling indeed. A few of these did acknowledge the authority of the Ring, but most regarded themselves as independent priesthoods and would have been utterly outraged to know that the ritual they had ordained for the next full Moon was not ordained by their own need and will.

“Bless their hearts,” Gladys chuckled, when the last major Order made it known it had decreed a Grand Rite for that night. “They do know their job, those Outer Nine.”

The real disappointment was that there had not been time to organize witchcraft in the rest of the world. Only where some of the great Orders were international was there any hope of cooperation. The witches of the continent had already planned a propitiation of their own. Australia and New Zealand were working on the rising sea. Asia gave vague answers which were not easily understood. The witches in America replied regretfully that they were having hell’s own job holding down a major earthquake, but assured the Ring of their goodwill. Africa did not reply at all.

“Damn!” said Maureen. “I wish we dared explain what we’re really trying to do.”

“Most of them are using power that night anyway,” Gladys said, “and that should help. Goodwill is a power on its own. Don’t fuss, Maureen, and have you got down the exact minute we want each of those Names said? Well, don’t look like that! I only asked.”

“I’m sorry!” Maureen said irritably. “I’ve a lot on my mind, what with Flan leaving to go on the capsule. Joe’s behaving strangely too. I’m under a lot of pressure. I—”

She was interrupted by Amanda telephoning to say that there was a hitch in the capsule’s directional jets, and could someone get hold of that strange girl who had worked on the French space programme, quickly please!