“This spell multiplies a mass times a length and divides it by time. I’ve
got to get the units exactly right or we won’t get the output we need. So
the pentagram has to be just the right diameter.”
“Forgive me, my Lord, but that is a circle, not a pentagram.”
“Special kind of pentagram,” Jerry grunted.
“It is not a pentagram. It is a circle.”
“A pentagram approaches a circle for sufficiently large values of five.
Now, step out of the way, will you? And don’t muss the lines.”
As Moira moved out of the way, he deftly sketched a shape in the center of
his creation.
“That is not any kind of pentagram,” Moira insisted. “That is a circle
with a sideways S in it.”
“It does the job of a pentagram,” Jerry said. “Stand back.” He turned to
the Emac which was standing nearby.
“backslash,” he commanded. “power_up exe.”
A puff of bright blue smoke billowed into the diagram on the floor,
coalesced, condensed and solidified. The demon was about two feet tall and
looked like a stick figure. Except instead of straight lines, its arms,
legs and body were composed of neon blue lightning bolts. Its nose was a
150-watt light bulb.
“bzzzzp bzzzzp ready,” it said in a buzzing voice.
Jerry nodded and flipped the switch on the wall. The fluorescents in the
ceiling flickered and caught, bathing the room in a cold bluish glow.
“Okay. Douse the torch, will you? We’ve got power.”
“Of that I make no doubt,” Moira said, eyeing Jerry’s creation dubiously.
Twenty-three: GREMLINS
“Where does this go, Lord?” asked one particularly lanky guardsman as he
and his fellows rolled a tan metal object through the opened double doors.
Wiz looked up from the sea of packing material, pallets and computer parts
scattered across the floor of the computer room.
“Oh, that’s part of the air conditioning. It goes in that room over there.
And be careful of the stuff on the floor. There’s metal strapping all over
the place.”
Moira looked over the slowly growing computer in the middle of all the
litter. It still wasn’t very impressive. There were four tan metal cubes,
each about waist high, that stood all in a row. Next to them were a couple
of taller cabinets. At the other end was a large desk with a workstation
sitting on it-the “console” the programmers called it, although what
consolation it might be Moira couldn’t imagine. There were a half-dozen
other workstations, a thing Wiz told her was a printer and some other
equipment scattered around the room.
“Forgive me darling, but the problem with your world’s magic is that it
just doesn’t look impressive.”
“It’s not supposed to,” Wiz told her. “If it looks impressive it scares
the suits.”
Moira thought about that and then did what she usually did when the
conversation lapsed into incomprehensibility. She changed the subject.
“What does that part do?” She nodded toward the box being maneuvered
through the just-big-enough doorway.
“That’s the climate control system. It’s not really part of the computer
at all. It just keeps the room at constant temperature and humidity. These
things are picky that way.”
“This could be done by magic, you know.”
“I know, but the computer is designed to work with this system and as long
as we have electric power, why not use it?”
“Magic would be more reliable,” Moira said dubiously.
“Magic doesn’t work as well here as it does at home. Besides, machinery
can be just as reliable as magic.”
Moira arched an eyebrow skeptically, but she said nothing.
“Hey Wiz,” Danny called out. “I think I’ve got the cabling problem
whipped. Come look at this.”
Danny had several sections of the raised floor up to expose one of the
cable runs. “You know you said it would take us a couple of days to get
all the cabling spliced right? Well, I found a way around it.”
“emac” he said, and one of the yard-tall editor demons appeared beside
him.
“?” said the Emac.
He reached behind him on the floor and handed the demon the wiring manual
and printout of the installation chart. The little demon staggered under