The girl in the front row in Professor Maximilian Reggert's Wizardry I class was trouble looking for a place to happen. He should have realized that on the first day. But then all students are trouble. At the time, Reggert was far more concerned about the even greater trouble that can be caused by a lack of students.
The enrollment in Wizardry I was nine, a drop of two from last year. Wizardry II had not been taught for so long that just keeping it in the catalog required an annual battle with the Curriculum Committee. And now, as Reggert had recently been informed by the smug lips of Marvin Wagner, Chairman of the Physics Department, there was imminent danger that he himself would soon be deleted from the ranks of university faculty. At fifty-two years of age, he faced the prospect of finding himself on the job market in a world in which wizards were considered even less useful members of society than poets.
From the beginning, the Physics Department had been anything but enthusiastic about harboring a professor of Wizardry in their midst. As they saw it, by hiring Reggert the University had cravenly yielded to a tide of irrationalism sweeping the campus in the late Sixties, and the choice of their department as his home grounds was an abomination occasioned less by his knowledge of basic physics (which they grudgingly acknowledged) than by a former Chancellor's desire to settle an old score. The Department had waged a spirited battle against the adoption of the Wizardry Option in the Physics major, and had fought even harder against awarding Reggert tenure.
That tenure prevented the University from replacing Reggert with someone else to fulfill the same function. But now, at a time when severe budgetary difficulties were resulting in wide-spread cutbacks across campus, even that hard-won tenure would no longer be sufficient protection if the University could make a case that there was no longer any function for Reggert to fulfill. A new breed of student was to be found on campus these days, one whose primary concern was the acquisition of marketable skills, and courses in Wizardy did nothing to meet the needs of this student.
Thus when Reggert looked out at those nine students that first day of classes and counted among them a young woman named Jodi Marsh whose blond hair would have disgraced any self-respecting string mop and whose jeans and sweatshirt were apparently loss leaders from the Salvation Army, he did not sensibly ask himself how he could put the greatest possible distance between himself and this undisciplined bundle of danger, but instead only hoped that he could prevent her from transferring to another class before the three-week deadline was up.
With a small flourish, he performed the spell that caused the remains of the previous hour's class (linguistics, apparently) to fall in tiny specks from the blackboard into the chalk tray. The students were duly impressed. For a moment, Jodi Marsh's mouth became as round as her eyes, her glasses, and her face. She then broke into a grin that showed enormous upper teeth. Like a beaver, Reggert thought.
The chalk-clearing spell was about the most elaborate the University would allow him to perform except in private under stringent and absurd safeguards. But his students wouldn't know that, and as he tried to convince them that this introductory course in the principles of wizardry would enrich their lives, he had their undivided attention.
He was sure that some of them regarded him, in his three-piece suit, starched white shirt, and austere tie, as a fussy little charlatan. Others would hope that, despite his disclaimers, they would be able to learn spells gaining them wealth, love, and wisdom --- by which they meant money, sex, and an undetectable method of cheating on exams.
As for the idiotic grin on Jodi Marsh's face, Reggert could only suppose that somewhere in the world was a group calling themselves the Wizards devoted to using electrical guitars for unmusical purposes, and that she was under the misapprehension that he was one of its members.
Two weeks later, she came by his office and announced that she wanted to be a Wizardry major.
The idea was impractical. As impractical as the Physics Department had been able to make it, in fact. She would be technically a Physics major and would have to take the usual fundamental courses in that subject, as well as calculus. Furthermore, since Wizardry I was in practice the only Wizardry course offered, the remainder of her work would have to be done by directed study, for which Reggert would not be paid.
On the other side of the balance was the fact that as long as he had a student who required his supervision to graduate, Reggert's job was secure.
So he accepted Jodi Marsh as a Wizardy major and consequently had to endure a scene of absolutely livid rage from Chairman Wagner of the Physics Department. He had taken the first step toward disaster.
Another two weeks and she was back in his office again. She wanted to be taught to cast a spell.
Reggert greeted the request with the contempt it deserved. ``You wouldn't ask the Music Department to make you into a violinist over the summer session. You wouldn't tell the Dance Department that you'd decided to become a ballerina this semester.'' God forbid.
This logic had no effect on her. ``I don't want to be a violinist or ballerina. I want to learn to cast spells.''
he trouble was, he couldn't afford to lose the little idiot now. If he'd never taken her on as a major, he might have hung onto his job one way or another. But now that he had her, if he lost her again there'd be no hope at all.
He tried reasoning with her further. ``After four years, you'll know a vast amount about theoretical wizardry, a subject that few people today even suspect exists. You'll learn about how wizards become at one with the world and at peace with themselves. You'll even acquire a little skill at attaining that state.'' Very little, but let her hope.
``Will I be able to cast spells?''
``By the time you graduate, you'll understand why that should be the least of your ambitions. You'll learn to know, to understand. Compared to that, what is spell casting?''
``Not even one?'' she insisted.
``I offer you a world, and you want parlor tricks.''
The next time it was only a week before she was back. If she couldn't cast a spell, she wanted to at least see one.
``There are regulations,'' Reggert said unhappily. ``I've done a few things for you in class.''
``Erasing the blackboard. Big deal. I'm beginning to think it's all you can do and maybe even that's just a trick. I want to see you summon a demon or something.''
Reggert had a sinking feeling. The girl was never going to let up. ``You're talking about things that are very dangerous. The University has nobody available to monitor my safety procedures. It's natural for them to be extremely cautious.'' A natural consequence of stupidity, was what he actually thought.
``They wouldn't expect me to major in astronomy without ever looking through a telescope.''
It was the same sort of argument he got from faculty evaluation committees, who couldn't see the value of research published in longhand in books that required a spell to be opened and a spell to turn each page. ``You're not a trained observer. You'll learn more from the reading I've assigned.''
``All a bunch of lies,'' she said, referring possibly to Reggert's statement or possibly to the books on the reading list. She put a thumbnail between her teeth for a moment, looked over his shoulder into the distance and then looked up at him slyly.
``I have a pretty good bod, you know.'' It took him a minute to understand. When he did, he spoke with quiet fury. ``Get out! We're through, even if they fire me. I refuse to deal with a student who tries to prostitute herself to me.''
She looked at him with wide-eyed innocence. ``Lighten up. It's common sense. You do something for me, I give you something you'd like. We both come out ahead. There's nothing wrong with sex, you know. It's one of the most natural things there is.''
It was intolerable. Lecturing him, of all people, about sex.
``If you'd been willing, you could have gained some insight into the true nature of sex. Instead, you want me to violate all my professional oaths just to provide you with a bit of entertainment. A substitute for television.''
He had to pause to prevent himself from shouting. ``I don't need your offer. If I wanted to abuse my abilities, I could have my choice of women much more desirable than you. And more interesting, I might add.''
``For a change, you might like to make it with someone who's willing.'' To his horror, Reggert saw that the girl was beginning to unbutton the checkered flannel work shirt she was wearing. ``Maybe I'm not beautiful, but I'm certainly young. For someone your age, you can't beat that.''
There was a knock on the door. The shirt was nearly unbuttoned, but not really open. And Reggert made a bad mistake.
Chairman Wagner came in to discuss the two elementary physics courses Reggert taught in addition to Wizardry I, speaking, as usual, with undisguised contempt.
And along the wall on the far side of the desk stood Jodi Marsh, hidden from Wagner but not from the wizard by a makeshift spell of invisibility.
She was taking off the rest of her clothes, which were falling, not completely silently, on the floor behind a corner of Reggert's desk, just out of Wagner's sight. As they reached the floor, they became unprotected by the spell.
Wagner glanced toward the sound but did not move the very small amount that would have enabled him to see the discarded garments.
The spell was rather shaky and there was nothing Reggert could do to strengthen it while Wagner was standing there. In any case, if Jodi spoke a word or moved more than a foot from where she was, the game would be up.
Reggert said, praying that she would understand his surrender, ``I've got to help my new student with a project this afternoon.''
Wagner grunted in disgust. ``It's absolutely intolerable that we're forced to tie up resources for the sake of that little twit.''
Reggert blanched but Jodi remained silent, unmoving. Miraculously, the spell continued to hold.
Finally Wagner left and Reggert could deal with Jodi. ``Put your clothes back on your pathetic body and get out of here. Tonight I'll raise a demon for you. After that, you'll have to be satisfied with the late-night horror show, which I suspect is more to your taste anyway.''
Reggert had to admit that the first demon raised was rather puny. He had forgotten how unimpressive the results of strenuous efforts can be, especially to an outsider. The little naked body was hardly larger than a boy's.
Jodi blithely suggested that he summon another, but Reggert's look in response to this suggestion daunted even her.
A week later, he summoned a much more presentable one for her. And the following week, still another.
What in God's name was happening to him?
The answer was something he was reluctant to admit to himself. The girl, the idiot-grinning kid, was getting to him.
It was not surprising that she never repeated the offer of her body. And even if she had, after what he'd said to her he could hardly accept the offer and still retain his self-respect.
If only he could be sure that it was simply the body. Middle-aged professors lusting after female students are an old story, a trite one. What bothered him was that everything about the girl, the beaver smile, the inane conversation, even her shallow view of the world, were beginning to look good to him.
He saw her several times a week now. He went with her to vegetarian restaurants, listened to her talk about meditation and macrobiotics. Top-forty stations on the radio no longer sounded like pure noise to him. He was watching absurd television programs in order to keep up with her conversation. He ceased wearing the vest of his suit and wore the jacket unbuttoned. Jodi told him that something in green velvet would be more befitting a wizard and he was terrified that it would be only a matter of time before he would agree.
His attitude toward the University had become fatalistic. He was violating every regulation he was sworn to uphold and was enjoying it. Instead of doing piddling little variations on other wizards' research, he was, in his own modest way, extending the very frontiers of wizardry. He knew he would be caught. But he had decided that he could only hang onto his job for a few more years in any case and would rather do something worthwhile than see his life dribble away one cowardly wasted day at a time.
What frightened him more was that he was very close to violating his oaths of wizardry, and these oaths were based on very real dangers. He was showing Jodi things in books that only wizards were meant to see. He was involving her in rituals where a momentary slip on his part would place her in grave peril.
Such was the state of affairs when Reggert summoned up a demon with the unlikely name of Fredericus.
Jodi had at first been amazed by what seemed the contemporary nature of the demons they brought forth, but Reggert explained that this was actually quite logical. Demons had, after all, existed from close to the beginning of time, and there was no reason why the language and customs of the ancient Romans or Hebrews should seem any more comfortable to them than modern American English.
Fred, in any case, would have fit in perfectly on the beach at Malibu or Waikiki. He was not only the largest, strongest, and best looking demon they had ever raised (``well hung,'' in the vocabulary Reggert was learning from Jodi), but was the most engaging.
``Hello, hello,'' he said with a broad smile directed toward Jodi. ``You're certainly a step up from the class of people I usually get summoned by.''
Reggert saw Jodi's face light up with pleasure and was terrified at the thought that she was about to step toward the demon and into the pentagram. In fact, she did not move. But in his panic, Reggert let slip his concentration on the binding spell and for a moment Fredericus was outside his control, free to leave the pentagram. Reggert reacted quickly, and Fred was bound again. But only partially, and not to Reggert. He was now bound to Jodi.
``I'm going to have to teach you some techniques without real understanding,'' Reggert told Jodi. ``This is the worst and most dangerous approach to wizardry. After we've sent Fred back to the Overworld, for your safety I'll use a spell of forgetfulness to wipe out the knowledge.''
Jodi pouted. ``I don't see any point in working so hard to learn something I can't even be allowed to remember. I'd just as soon not send him back at all. He's nice.''
``To you, certainly,'' Reggert explained. ``He's bound to you now and he's going to be fighting you for control. If that fight is carried on purely on the level of magic, he can never win. So he'll use anything he can -- sexual attraction, psychological ploys, straightforward charm -- to weaken you.''
Jodi was unimpressed by this argument. ``I like him. Let's wait a while anyway.''
``The primary function of wizardry,'' Reggert said, ``is to decrease the amount of undisciplined magic in the world by forcing demons and other such magical beings into the Overworld, where they belong. Any time a demon, especially one as powerful as Fredericus, is let loose again in this world, we are taking a step backward toward the time when the world suffered from completely uncontrolled magic.''
Jodi made a long, drawn-out sound of exasperation. ``You are so full of shit,'' she said. ``One demon, what's the big deal? Jesus, look around you. What about all the people who are inventing atomic bombs and murdering the whales? Do they ever worry?''
Reggert tried to teach her the spells to send Fred back, but he could see that her heart was not in the effort. A new semester began and Fred enrolled as a student. Soon he was playing an active part in heating up what had formerly been a fairly tepid political atmosphere on campus. He and Jodi were openly lovers and when Reggert saw them together his thoughts were murderous.
Jodi enrolled in Wizardry II as a directed reading course, but skipped appointments and showed no interest in the history and philosophy of wizardry. Reggert felt that she was openly contemptuous of him.
Reggert was working with spells far beyond his own competence, trying desperately to transfer the binding on Fred from Jodi to himself. His only hope lay in the fact that she did not have the knowledge to resist him.
Finally, one night in the midst of one of his most complicated spells, Reggert found himself confronted by Professor Wagner, accompanied by the Vice-Chancellor for Research Administration and two campus police officers.
The mills of academic bureaucracy grind slowly when it comes to firing a tenured professor, but the University pressed forward toward the preliminary hearings as rapidly as possible, considering that it was dealing with a growing campus protest movement, led by none other than the demon Fredericus. However it was six weeks before the date for the first hearing arrived.
For Reggert, these six weeks were miserable. Not only was he faced with the loss of his position, but he felt that serious consequences had probably resulted from the interruption of that last spell. Since he now did not dare to do any magic whatsoever, he had no way of checking on this.
It was a cold, drizzly day in April when he arrived at the Administration Building on the crucial day. He pushed his way through a crowd of demonstrators, some with umbrellas, some standing under trees, some simply getting wet. He wondered why they hadn't waited for a better day for whatever demonstration it was they were holding. Jodi was there with Fred, of course, and their eyes met for a moment. He was unable to read the emotion he saw in her face. Contempt, he supposed, or maybe pity. He would have liked to believe that there was at least a little bit of regret.
The Vice-Chancellor for Research Administration sat at the head of the conference table, looking nervously toward the window through which sounds of protest could be heard. Wagner was sitting grim-faced in front of a yellow tablet full of notes. Most of the other attendees seemed acutely uncomfortable at being present at this most frightening of university procedures, the firing of a tenured professor.
It was Wagner who read out the case against Reggert. A surprisingly detailed list of illegal spells was given. Reggert wondered where they could have got it, realized that Jodi was the only possible source. He felt a sense of ultimate betrayal.
``It is tempting to laugh at this talk of demons,'' Wagner said. ``My own view, in fact, and that of the rest of the Physics Department, is that Professor Reggert's field of study is entirely spurious, consisting of at best a handful of clever tricks, and I would be pleased to see him dismissed on that basis. But it is not our function here to make a judgement as to whether a particular regulation on hazardous research is justified or not. That would lead us down the road to chaos, to a complete lack of control, with each researcher determining his own safety procedures.''
``What about the people in the physics labs making atomic bombs?'' Reggert asked. ``What about the labs making cancer germs? What about murdering the whales?''
Wagner gave him a pitying look. ``For the sake of argument, we accept Reggert's claim that he is not a charlatan. We are then forced to the belief that he has exposed the University community to these, um, demons'' -- Wagner's expression indicated that he could scarcely bring himself to pronounce the word -- ``under extremely unsafe conditions. There is a report that one of these, um, demons has been at large for months, under the control of one of Reggert's students. A freshman student. A female student. This female student, incidentally --''
The doors to the conference room burst open. Among those who stormed in were Jodi, Fred, and two others who Reggert's practiced eye immediately recognized as demons.
``We're from the Committee for the Preservation of Wizardry,'' Jodi said with a goggle-eyed grin of self-satisfaction. ``Wizardry is an endangered discipline and this university is one of its few remaining habitats. We demand that it be preserved here. Besides, you people stole my diary.''
Reggert looked at her in amazement. Who the hell had thought this up? It must have been Jodi herself. And from her incredible look of self-confidence, she didn't have the faintest idea how awful it was. Around the conference table, the looks of indignation were mixed with smiles of amusement.
The next minute, Fred was pulling several sheets of folded-up paper from under his jacket. He began reading and the smiles around the table vanished. It was a list of contract numbers, dates, invoices submitted, and actual expenditures. It was long, and all the items were violations of federal contracts, including several cases of blatant fraud.
The Vice-Chancellor's face looked ashen. ``We'll postpone any action on Professor Reggert until we've had a chance to discuss this.''
Fred said, ``We've got the list, you've got shit.''
It went back and forth a little longer, but finally the Vice-Chancellor turned to the others and said, ``What the hell are we arguing about? A professor of Wizardry, for Chrissake, who the fuck cares? Let him keep his damned job.''
Chairman Wagner looked apoplectic.
Jodi looked like she'd just been laid.
A few minutes later, standing outside the Administration Building, Reggert was anything but pleased. ``Who are these two other demons?''
``You ought to know.'' Jodi gripped his hand momentarily with a look of solicitude. ``You were in the middle of summoning them the night you got busted. You left the poor guys in a very awkward situation. They managed to contact Fred.''
``Fred couldn't finish summoning them,'' Reggert said. That was axiomatic. Demons are magic, but they can't themselves cast spells.
Jodi grinned more broadly. ``I'm not as dumb as you think. I did learn a thing or two from you, especially the things you didn't want me to.''
Reggert looked dismal. ``They're not bound,'' he said.
Jodi shrugged. ``Tell him, Fred.''
Fred placed a muscled hand on each of Reggert's shoulders. ``Use your head for a change, pal. You wizards have been sending us demons off to the Overworld for centuries now, to such an extent that if one of us is discovered loose on this side any more the American Association for the Advancement of Wizardry will consider it one of the most exciting events of the decade. And he'll be some puny little nonentity at that. Well, I'll tell you something, friend. Over there on the Other Side, what most of us think is `Good riddance to bad rubbish.' I mean, what I'm trying to say is, most of us wouldn't come back over on any terms you could offer. You think you control your own world now that we're gone? The hell you say. You've exchanged demons for governments and corporations. Labor unions. Universities. I mean, really, what is it you think you control?''
He joined Jodi and his two cohorts and they started to walk away. Then he turned back. ``Sorry for the soapbox, chum. I didn't mean to sound like we spend all our time worrying about you dudes. I mean who gives a shit? Really. But since I've been back here, I've been looking around and listening to things Jodi's been telling me. I mean, look, you're killing the fucking planet. Unless you blow it up first. Acid rain. Pesticides. Destroying the ozone. Poisoning the rivers. Letting the soil wash away, blow away. Killing the oceans.''
He shrugged. ``Demons are overrated, you know. Against forces like the Pentagon and Mobil Oil, I don't suppose we three have much of a chance. But hell, man, I couldn't come back here without giving it my best shot.''
He shrugged again, turned, and set off across the quad with his friends. Reggert watched them go, his mind in turmoil.
He submitted his resignation the next morning. It took him three weeks to trace Jodi, Fred, and the other two demons down again.
It was absurd to suppose that the five of them could accomplish anything against the governments and corporations. A spell of futility, that's all it would amount to. But could he do less for his world than a demon?
1981