Genie and Engineer 1: The Engineer Wizard (33 page)

Naperville, Illinois

East Bauer Road

Two-bedroom rental house

May

Thursday, 5:16 p.m. CST

“All you need in this life is ignorance and confidence; then
success is sure.” ― Mark Twain.

H
e
tenaciously kept working on the AI project, working long hours on the
development of the software. A couple of times, he was so tired at night that
it was all he could do to climb into bed before falling fast asleep.

At least there was something to distract him as he waited
for Capie to call.

That finally came on Thursday evening, just after 5 p.m.

“Do you have time to come out to the house?” she timidly
asked when he answered the phone.

“I can be there in fifteen minutes! No, make it ten!” Paul
cackled wildly, then hung up the phone before she could say anything more.

Paul drove faster than was safe, using magic to avoid three
accidents, turn half a dozen red lights green in front of him, and sail through
one speed trap. The Camry took him safely to her driveway. From that point on, he
was on his own.

He rang the doorbell, waiting impatiently for her to open
the door. What would her decision be? Would she tell him to get lost, or would
she say “yes?” The tug of war in his heart threatened to consume him.

“Come in!” Paul heard Capie shout. “The door is not locked!”

She was sitting in the middle of her living room in her
electric wheelchair, wearing another one of her gorgeous outfits, this one with
a pale green blouse and a pair of darker green slacks.

Her expression was one of nervousness, her hands fidgeting.

“Please, come in and have a seat,” she invited with a quaver
in her voice. “Would you like a cup of tea before we get started?”

“No, thanks. I am too nervous waiting to hear your answer,”
he bluntly admitted.

Capie nodded in understanding as Paul sat down on the edge
of her couch.

“They say that an adventure always happens to someone else,”
she said, a touch of bitterness in her voice. “I’ve never understood that until
now. Not really. I’m sorry that it took me a long time to make this decision.”

She paused. “On the one hand, I could stay here, live my
life in safety, but remain an invalid, trapped in this wheelchair. On the other
hand, I could have magical powers, be cured of my spinal injury, and live a
full and exciting life, but I might be murdered by evil magical creatures and
wizards.”

With a grin, she shook her head and said, “‘How funny it is!
I now believe in dragons, fairies, good men, and other mythical creatures!’”

Paul chuckled louder than the joke warranted. Okay, so he
was nervous, and his heart was pounding in his chest. What would she say?

She looked at him, and he could see the hesitation in her
eyes.

“I am tempted, really tempted,” she openly confessed, “but I
need a little something more from you before I can answer.”

Paul nodded, prepared for this situation and suddenly
confident of how she would answer his next question. The thrill of it ran up
and down his spine like an electric charge. “And I think I know what that
something is.”

Pulling a small box from his pants pocket, Paul knelt on one
knee and took her left hand in his, reminding himself to go slow (he had vowed
not to screw this up) and to say the words distinctly, even though his throat
suddenly felt dry and his tongue swollen. This was for all the marbles!

“Copernicus Kingsley, love of my life, will you marry me?”
And he gave her the small box.

Breathlessly, she took her hand from his and fumbled
nervously with the box. When the lid snapped open, she gasped in surprise.
Inside was a gorgeous silver ring with a large diamond.

She stretched forth both arms and leapt into his. He caught
her and held her tight.

“Oh, yes!” she squealed in delight. “Yes, yes, YES!”

• • • •

For a half hour, she babbled on like a whole chorus line of
teenage girls on steroids, talking about weddings and dates and a host of other
such matters. Paul merely smiled and said “Yes, dear” at all the appropriate
points in the dialogue.

Then she calmed down a little and smiled shyly. “I’m sorry I
carried on that way. I am just so HAPPY! I never knew it could be like this!
Oh, kiss me, stupid!”

Paul did. In fact, he kissed her several times. Long and
hard.

“Okay, okay!” she gasped. “Let a girl breathe! Oh my goodness,
you are a good kisser!”

“I could say the same about you,” Paul countered with a
grin. His heart was skipping along on jet-powered thrusters.

“We need to make plans,” she said.

“Agreed. Where do we start?”

“Wedding plans, of course. Do you want a big wedding or
something informal?” she asked.

Paul shrugged. “I have no family that would attend. And no
close friends, not really. So your family and friends would be it. Big question;
what about your father?”

“Well, of course, silly. He’ll be there.”

“Ah, but with a smile or a frown? I get the impression that
he doesn’t like me very much,” Paul subtly reminded her.

She shook her head. “Don’t worry about him. He’s just trying
to protect his little girl.”

“And wait until he hears how much danger I am putting you
in,” Paul categorically stated.

She grew thoughtful. “That does raise an interesting
question. Eventually, I will have to tell him what is going on. I mean, when I start
walking again—ooh, what a wonderful day that will be!—he is going to ask a ton
of questions!”

“Yes, at some point, he must be told,” Paul concurred.
“However, the timing is important. If we tell him before the wedding, he will
try even harder to talk you out of it. And if we wait to tell him afterward, he
will be furious with you for not trusting him.”

Capie looked at the floor, her mood suddenly solemn. “Yes,
you are right. What do you recommend?”

Paul shook his head. “I wish I had a recommendation. Let me
think on it, and I’ll get back to you later.”

“Okay, so a nice wedding with friends and family. When?”

“Good question. Let me think for a moment.” For several
seconds, Paul tried to seriously consider her question. “We can’t wait too
long. I was serious about having to leave Chicago at some point. But I am still
in the middle of preparations for a talisman and also in my AI research. I’ve
got maybe four more months of work to do.”

“Four months, heh?” Capie repeated, chewing on her lower
lip. “Putting on a wedding is a lot of work and takes a great deal of planning.
Receptions, invitations, catering, decorations, and so on. But I’m sure we can
pull it off in four months. Ooh, do you want a church wedding or a civil
wedding?”

“A church wedding, please.”

“Good, I agree. I’ll talk to my pastor since obviously you
can’t talk to yours. Oh, do you want a bachelor party?”

“A bachelor party?” Paul asked, puzzled. “You mean the kind
where a bunch of men sit around, get drunk, watch dirty movies, and have a naked
woman jump out of a cake? That kind of bachelor party?”

Capie froze for a moment and then said, “You’re right. Bad
idea. Forget I mentioned it.”

He held up a hand. “There are two other items to put on the
schedule. First, I would like to give you a detailed rundown on The Plan. You
should have a really good idea of what you are getting into before you marry
me. We should do that as soon as possible. Then, second, giving you magical
powers.”

“Yes, ooh, you are right. There is no point in waiting. Are
you suggesting that we do both now? Tonight?”

“No, not tonight. It’s going to take me another hour or so
to fully explain my Plan, and quite frankly, I insist on doing that
before
I give you magical powers. Let’s do that tomorrow night. Also, it took me at
least a day to recover from the genie’s spell. I suggest that we start first
thing Saturday morning with the spell, assuming that I don’t scare you off when
I explain the details of The Plan. You will have a chance to recover from the
spell during the weekend. Then you can begin healing your spinal cord. And I can
teach you a few simple incantations to use for your spells.”

“That’s good,” she giggled. “Ah, I, I can’t tell you how
much I love you!”

Paul felt giddy with delight. “I know. I feel the same way
about you.” He paused, smiling at her. “Have you had dinner yet?”

She shook her head. “No, I was too nervous.”

“Then let’s go out to celebrate. I know just the place.
Everest.”

Capie smiled. “I love French. And I especially love that
restaurant! But we don’t have a reservation!”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure that can be taken care of.”

• • • •

Friday night, Paul arrived at her house sharply at 5 p.m.
with a large hot pizza on the passenger seat beside him.

Skipping merrily up the walk, pizza box in one hand and
drinks in the other, Paul casually glanced at the doorbell, and with his spell,
it rang.

“Come on in, the door’s open!”

With a twitch of his nose, the door swung open, and he entered,
the pizza box thrust out in front of him. Grinning like the school idiot, Paul blew
on the box, using a little magic to send the aroma drifting further into the
house.

“What is that smell?” Capie asked, rolling forth from the
kitchen. “Ah, pizza! What toppings?”

“Your half has bell peppers, olives, pepperoni, and
mushrooms with extra cheese. My half has sausage, pepperoni, mushrooms, and
ham.”

She displayed a wide grin. “You may keep your half, but thanks
for remembering all my favorites. Let’s eat! They tortured me all day today at
work, and I couldn’t wait to get home! What did you get to drink?”

“A caffeine free diet cola drink for you and root beer for
me, of course. Honestly, I don’t know why you drink this stuff,” Paul remarked.
“A soft drink without caffeine and sugar is just flavored water with a little
fizz thrown in.”

He sat the food and drinks down on the dining-room table,
made his way into the kitchen, and retrieved some plates, utensils, and
glasses.

“Here goes my cholesterol levels again,” she observed. “And
after last night’s meal, too!”

Paul smiled smugly. He still felt like bursting out into
song at any moment. Fortunately, for the sake of Capie’s ears, he refrained
from doing so. “And how often does a person get engaged? Besides, pizza is the
OEBF—the Official Engineer’s Brain Food—and we will need that for later, when
we get into our little discussion.”

“Are you
still
determined to talk me out of marrying
you?” she asked, levering a large slice of pizza from the box to her plate.

“‘The most dangerous thing in the world is to try and leap a
chasm in two jumps,’” Paul quoted with dignified seriousness.

Capie laughed. “Who said that?”

“David Lloyd George,” Paul replied. “The British Prime Minister
during World War I. I did a report on him back in my college history class.” He
dug a slice out of the box and popped the lid on his root beer.

“Sounds like a practical man to me,” Capie agreed.

“He was one of those ultra-liberals, especially in his day.
But enough of history. Let’s talk shop.”

“Hmmm, that’s good pizza!” she pronounced around the food in
her mouth.

“Lip-smacking good,” Paul said, taking a huge bite.

“That quote is for chicken,” Capie corrected him. “I have no
idea what they say for good pizza.”

Paul shrugged. “You got me there. I can’t think of a single
quotable quote regarding pizza.”

 “Here’s one,” she said, lifting another slice out of the
box. “Never eat more than you can lift—Miss Piggy.”

Paul raised both eyebrows, amused. “Quoting from the
Muppets, now, are we? Ah, I declare a truce. At least until I finish this
slice.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes. Paul enjoyed every
bite, feeling that all was right with the world.

After two slices, his appetite was satisfied, at least for
the time being.

“Shall we retire to the living room now?” Paul asked.

“Bring the box, in case we get hungry again,” Capie
suggested.

“I can guarantee that we will,” Paul responded. He grabbed
the pizza box and the drinks.

In the living room, he sat the food on the coffee table and
then helped Capie out of the wheelchair onto the couch.

“Okay, let’s talk about The Plan,” she said, stretching out
a bit and making herself comfortable. Paul sat next to her, snuggling up close.

Waving a hand, he created a large display that floated in
midair.

“Yes, let’s get the mundane stuff out of the way so that we
can move on to some serious necking.”

She punched his arm. “Funny man.”

Paul waved his hand again. The display cleared to show a
global map of Earth, complete with the national boundaries.

“As best as I can tell from my research, there are 311
wizards, all told, give or take a dozen or so. They don’t exactly advertise
where they are, but based on my best intelligence, this is what I have so far.”

The map lit up with a number of red dots scattered all
across the face of the globe.

“It looks like they’re in a lot of different countries, all
the world’s capitals,” Capie observed.

“Which makes sense,” Paul declared with conviction. “They
need to be fairly close to the seats of power. Oh, sure, they could use portals
to go anywhere and thus they could live in any city of their choice. But from my
research, they don’t seem to do that, choosing instead to live close by the
reins of power.”

“So how do you plan to take those reins away from them?” she
asked. “I hate to say it, but 311 to 1 is bad odds. It’s worse when you throw
those Oni into the mix too.”

“That’s correct,” Paul concurred, admiring her astute
question. “It’s true that I plan to make a very powerful talisman, much better
than anything they have. And that would be enough to let me take them on
individually or even a small group at a time. But not 311 of them, no.”