"Robert Weinberg - Logical Magician 01 - A Logical Magician" - читать интересную книгу автора (Weinberg Robert)

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" h, sure," said Jack, standing. Beads of sweat trickled down his back. The old man was
crazy. The sooner Jack got out of the office, the better. "Sure you are. If you don't mind,
it's time for me to leave. I just remembered that I'm late for another appointment."
Jack headed for the door. Behind him, he heard the lunatic who thought of himself
as Merlin chuckle. "Come back and sit down, Jack," the man said quietly.
In the middle of a step, Jack froze. His brain shouted "Continue!" but his body
refused to obey. Horrified, Jack found himself pivoting about, turning away from the door.
Moving stiffly, like an automaton, he swung around and marched back to his chair. Unable
to do a thing, he found himself back in the seat, facing the bearded man.
"Do you still doubt my identity?" asked his tormentor.
"All I know is that you're nuts," said Jack evenly, surprised to discover he had
regained control of his arms and legs. He suspected, however, that a mad dash for the
entrance was hopeless. "Anybody can use a mind-controlling drug. Nothing supernatural
about that."
"And you inhaled it as a fine mist in the air upon entering the room," said the old
man, shaking his head in mock dismay. "Amazing the advances made in chemical warfare
these past few years."
Smiling gently, he stretched out his hand. "Perhaps this will change your opinion,"
he said. Softly, he muttered a few words that Jack couldn't hear. Bright lights flashed, and
out of nowhere, a McDonald's cheeseburgerтАФor at least so the wrapper
proclaimedтАФrested on the man's palm.
"Hungry?" asked the magician, tossing the sandwich to Jack. "Go ahead. Take a
bite, then explain that away."
Jack drew in a deep breath. If he was hallucinating, this dream was astonishingly
realistic. With a shrug, he wolfed down the hamburger. It was still hot. His belief in magic
increased with each mouthful.
"Okay," he concluded, wiping his lips, "I'm willing to concede the possibility that
you might be Merlin the Magician. But, before I'm fully convinced, there are sure a hell of
a lot of questions that I want answered.
"First, though, can you use that same trick to materialize something to drink? The
cheeseburger made me thirsty."
Chuckling, Merlin again spoke a few words, and a large McDonald's cup filled with
Coke appeared on his desk.
"How do you do that?" asked Jack, reaching out for the drink.
"A simple teleportation spell," said Merlin. "It only works on small objects. There's
a fast-food restaurant down the street. I reach out with my mind and snag what I want
when no one is watching. A few dollars transported to the cash drawer pays my tab.
Merlin of Camelot," he concluded a bit haughtily, "is not a freeloader."
Jack drank the soda pop, his thoughts chaotic. Instead of discussing a fantasy
world, he found himself in the midst of one. The notion challenged his sanity. Up until
twenty minutes ago, he thought he understood the way the universe functioned. Not so any
more.
"I'm willing to listen," he declared uneasily, putting the drink down. "Though," he
added truthfully, "I'm not sure I want to hear what you have to say."
"As reasonable a statement as one can make," said Merlin. "I expected no more.
Listen closely.
"All my life," the magician continued somberly, "I have been a seeker of knowledge