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

area.
Such knowledge was worth more than all of the gold and jewels that the devils
could offer. Quitting his job, Roger went into business as a consultant. Using what he
learned through his spies, he built his new firm into a major force in the manufacturing
community. Knowledge was power, and the demons provided all the knowledge he
needed. However, in the rare instances when insider information wasn't enough to make
Roger millions, he used his evil helpers in other ways.
The demons, agents of destruction and chaos, were astonishingly adept at small
acts of sabotage. One tiny mistake was usually enough to doom most complex industrial
operations. In all cases, the imps cleverly disguised their interference to look like
accidents or employee blunders. Again, no one ever suspected supernatural intervention.
They all knew better.
Except Roger, who was too busy using his silent, invisible army to get rich. Very,
very rich.
Tonight, he planned to try his most ambitious summoning spell ever. It came from
the final chapter of The Lemegeton , a rare magical text known as The Lesser Key of
Solomon . According to the book, the conjuration raised one of the High Lords of Hell, a
being of immeasurably greater power than any Roger had thus summoned. It sounded
risky, but he felt it was worth the gamble. Despite all his newfound wealth, Roger was
greedy for more.
One small detail puzzled him. His computer printout emphasized a much different
pronunciation of the demon's name from the one commonly accepted. According to the
machine, the variation was the correct title of the beast. That explained why most
sorcerers had never been able to raise the creature from the pit. For a spell to work,
every word and syllable had to be exactly correct.
Roger knew better than to doubt the computer's offering. The machine never lied.
Like himself, it was exact in every detail. After all, he had programmed it. Silently, he
mouthed the demon's name several times, making sure he had the syllables just right.
One last time, Roger checked the lines on the floor. It paid to be careful. As long
as his pentagram and magic circle remained intact, the creatures he summoned could not
harm him. Three years of dealing with the powers of darkness had made Roger fearless.
Nothing frightened him anymore. Or at least, that was what he told himself.
Taking a deep breath, he began the chanting. Three times he repeated the great
spell from The Lemegeton . As he spoke, the air trembled with the force of the words
pouring from his mouth. There was a feeling of electricity in the air that Roger had never
noticed in any of his previous rituals. Though the lights remained unchanged, somehow the
room appeared to grow darker. And then the spell was complete.
Roger stared at the being in the center of the pentagram and shook his head in
disbelief. This thing did not look anything like the demon prince described in his books of
magic. All of his previous summonings had been hideous abominations, warped twisted
hideous mockings of life. The being inside the circle appeared human.
It resembled a short, elderly man, crippled and bent with age. The creature stood
perhaps five feet tall but was so badly crouched over, like a hunchback, that its hands
almost touched the floor. Completely hairless, with skin the color and texture of aged
parchment, the being wore a dark blue tunic and wood sandals. A large hook nose and
pointed chin gave the creature a vulturelike appearance. Not until it turned and stared at
him across the circle did Roger know he had not made a mistake.
Monstrous eyes burned with an inner yellow fire, harsh and unblinking, in the light.
Seen directly, the being's face faintly resembled that of a monstrous jungle cat. "Where am
I?" the demon whispered, looking around the room. It even sounded human. "When am I?"