The Wizardry Consulted
Book 4 of the Wizardry series
Rick Cook
The Wizardry Consulted
Book 4 of the Wizardry series
Rick Cook
CONTENTS
One: Fluff the Magic Dragon
Two: Enter the Dragon
Three: He Who Rides a Dragon . .
Four: Misdirection for the Directionless
Five: A Sudden Career Change
Six: More Than One Way to Skin a Dragon
Seven: Settling In
Eight: Calling Home
Nine: A Bracelet, Some Chickens, and a Pretty Maid All In a Row
Ten: Progress Report I
Eleven: Meanwhile, Back at the Observatory
Twelve: Bureau-cratic Complications
Thirteen: Chat Mode
Fourteen: Raiding on the Parade
Fifteen: Competition
Sixteen: Black Bag Job
Seventeen: Invitation To an Auto-de-Fe
Eighteen: Presentation
Nineteen: Contact
Twenty: The Prancing Pig
Twenty-one: Fanfare For Kazoos and Dragon
Twenty-two: Dragon Trouble
Twenty-three: Dragonmote
Twenty-four: Net Gains
Twenty-five: We Who Are About To . .
Twenty-six: Dragon Decisions
Twenty-seven: Dragon Tale Home
One: Fluff the Magic Dragon
True, it is nonsense. But it is important nonsense.
Philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein On His Life’s Work
(Quoted on the title page of The Consultants’ Handbook)
“You know one of the nice things about peace?” Wiz Zumwalt remarked to his cubicle mate. “It’s boring.”
Jerry Andrews turned away from the glowing letters of golden fire hanging in the air above his desk.
“Are you being sarcastic?”
William Irving Zumwalt, “Wiz” or “Sparrow” to one and all, twisted his wiry frame in his chair and brushed a lock of dark hair off his forehead. Like Jerry he was dressed in the flowing linen shirt, breeches and high, soft boots that were this world’s equivalent of jeans and a T-shirt. In spite of the clothes he still managed to look like a programmer.
“Heck no! I was just thinking how nice it is. No one’s trying to kill me, no one’s trying to destroy the world. No dwarf assassins, no elvish magic. Just peace and quiet. It’s boring, but you know something? I like being bored.”
Wiz sighed and looked out the traceried window into the rose garden below. Now that there were only three programmers left in the World, the Stablemaster had reclaimed their old quarters for his cows. In place of the Bull Pen, Danny, Jerry and Wiz had a spacious workroom in the main tower, with windows surrounded by climbing roses, and a view of the rose garden and the western wall of the Wizard’s Keep. Beyond the towers of the west wall, the green hills ran off into the purple distance.
In Wiz’s time in this world peace had been a scarce commodity. His first weeks after being shanghaied here were spent running for his life from the Dark League of the South. What with one thing and another, especially a red-haired hedge witch, he had discovered that the magic in this world could be made to work like a computer program. That led to a hacked-together magic language and a battle of magic that destroyed the Dark League. Then he’d been kidnapped by a remnant of the Dark League and spent weeks dodging wizards in the freezing, deserted City of Night. That was when Jerry, Danny and some other programmers were brought here from San Jose to help him. That in turn led to a couple of computer criminals finding their way to this world and that had ended in another enormous battle. In between there had been the job of teaching this world’s wizards how to program and months of delicate, wearing negotiations with the non-humans of the world who were upset by humans’ new magical powers. It had only been in the last few months that teaching and negotiating had tapered off and Wiz could get back to serious programming.
“Yep,” he repeated, taking his eyes away from the landscape. “It’s wonderful.”
“You sound as if you’re trying to convince yourself.” Jerry sounded amused.
“I’m already convinced,” Wiz said firmly. “I’m bored and I like it.”
Jerry leaned back in his chair, which squeaked in protest, and put his ham-like hands behind his head. He was several inches taller than Wiz and a lot heavier, although he had dropped perhaps forty pounds since coming to this world a couple of years ago. Even powerful wizards here got more physical exercise than their software counterparts in Cupertino. Like Wiz he was tanned, but unlike his friend, who drew his dark hair back in a shoulder-length ponytail, Jerry’s lighter brown hair was neatly trimmed above his collar. “I’d rather think of it as having enough time to work on interesting projects. Now that we’ve got wizards and apprentices trained in the basics of the magic compiler we’ve got the time for refinements.”