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

provide the best service in the field. Needless to say, none of my clients realize my
information comes not from analysis of political and social events but from a crystal ball.
"Recently, a major corporation requested I prepare a long-term analysis of
employment opportunities in the Chicago metropolitan area. Usually, I turn down such
projects, but this time I agreed. Not that I promised much. The future is not set, and the
further ahead one looks, the less reliable the prediction. Too many outside factors affect
the outcome. At best, I see what might be , not what will be . Which offers us the faint
hope that changing the present will affect the future."
The fear evident in Merlin's voice sent a ripple of apprehension rippling through
Jack. "How far ahead did you look?"
"A year," said the magician, barely audible. "They insisted I try, and, to be frank,
the challenge intrigued me. So, I cast my spells and gazed into my crystal."
"What did you see?" asked Jack, not sure he wanted to know the answer.
"Death and destruction." Merlin's words rang of despair. "War, famine and plague.
An end to civilization as we know it. The beginning of a new Dark Age for humanity."
Jack shivered. "And you think I can change the course of history? One man stop all
of that?"
"I know you can," replied Merlin. "The world I saw stank of dark sorcery. An evil
darkness haunted the land, rejoicing in the desolation. It was fully responsible for what
had happened. You must find this monster in the present and destroy it to save the future.
You're our only hope, mankind's lone champion. Not that it will be easy. For, though I
dread the thought, I suspect one of the Old Ones has returned."
"How do you..." Jack began but never finished.
In the outer office, Megan screamed.
"What the hell!" yelled Jack, rising from his chair. Behind him, the door crashed
open. A half-dozen bikers, dressed in black leather and chains, crowded into the room. A
metal-studded glove slammed into Jack's head, sending him sprawling to the floor.
Struggling desperately to get up, Jack sensed rather than saw the kick aimed at his
face. It smashed into his forehead with mind-numbing force. He collapsed to the carpet,
blackness overwhelming him, with Megan's terrified shrieks echoing through his mind.

3

Groaning. Jack opened his eyes. It hadn't been a nightmare. He was still in Merlin's
office. Everything looked the same. Except the magician was no longer there. Not
expecting an answer, Jack called out Megan's name. No one replied.
Gingerly, he touched where his skull throbbed with pain. He jerked his head away
in agony. Nothing felt broken, but he worried about a possible concussion. Dizzily, he
forced himself to his feet.
The room spun about, then steadied. He rubbed his eyes in annoyance. The colors
seemed wrong. There was a pink tint to everything. Then he remembered the rose-colored
contact lenses.
The thought sent his mind reeling. He barely glimpsed the invading bikers, but he
felt sure they hadn't possessed auras. Merlin and his daughter had been kidnapped by
supernatural foes.
Jack toyed with calling the police. He rejected the idea instantly. That path led
straight to the mental ward. His own initial reaction to Merlin's identity made that clear.
And Jack couldn't back up his claims with magical powers. The authorities were out. If
anyone was going to save Merlin, it had to be him.
That the bikers worked for the mysterious evil power described by Merlin, Jack