Black Easter by James Blish Page A

Hell. I can’t even begin to do that. I can call up only those with whom I have pacts, and their subordinates. No matter what you have read in Romantic novels and plays, the three superior spirits cannot be invoked at all, and never sign pacts, those being S ATHANAS , B EELZEBUTH and S ATANACHA . Under each of these are two ministers, with one of the six of which it is possible to make pacts – one per magician, that is. I control L UCIFUGE R OFOCALE , and he me. Under him in turn, I have pacts with some eighty-nine other spirits, not all of which would be of any use to us here – V AS S AGO , for instance, who has a mild nature and no powers except in crystallomancy, or P HOENIX , a poet and teacher. With the utmost in careful preparations, we might involve as many as fifty of the rest, certainly no more. Frankly, I think that will prove to be more than enough.’
    ‘I’ll cheerfully take your word for it,’ Baines said promptly. ‘You’re the expert. Will you take it on?’
    ‘Yes.’
    Father Domenico, who was still standing, swung away towards the door, but Ware’s hand shot out towards him above the desk as if to grasp the monk by the nape of the neck. ‘Hold!’ the magician said. ‘Your commission is
not
discharged, Father Domenico, as you know very well in your heart. You mustobserve this sending. Even more important, you have already said yourself that it is going to be difficult to keep under control. To that end I demand your unstinting advice in the preparation, your presence in the conjurations, and, should they be needed, your utmost offices in helping me and my other Tanists to abort it. This you cannot refuse – it is all in your mission by stipulation, and in the Covenant by implication. I do not force you to it. I do but remind you of your positive duty to your Lord.’
    That … is … true …’ Father Domenico said in a sick whisper. His face as grey as an untinted new blotter, he groped for the chair and sat down again.
    ‘Nobly faced. I’ll have to instruct everyone here, but I’ll start with you, in deference to your obvious distress –’
    ‘One question,’ Father Domenico said. ‘Once you’ve instructed us all, you’ll be out of touch with us for perhaps as much as a month to come. I demand the time to visit my colleagues, and perhaps call together a convocation of all white magicians –’
    ‘To prevent me?’ Ware said between his teeth. ‘You can demand no such thing. The Convenant forbids the slightest interference.’
    ‘I’m all too horribly aware of that. No, not to interfere, but to stand by, in case of disaster. It would be too late to call for them once you
knew
you were losing control.’
    ‘Hmm . . probably a wise precaution, and one I couldn’t justly prevent. Very well. Just be sure you’re back when the time comes. About the day, what would you suggest? May Eve is an obvious choice, and we may well need that much time in preparation.’
    ‘It’s
too
good a time for any sort of control,’ Father Domenico said grimly. ‘I definitely do
not
recommend piling a real Walpurgis Night on top of the formal one. It would be wiser to choose an unfavourable night, the more unfavourable the better.’
    ‘Excellent good sense,’ Ware said. ‘Very well, then. Inform your friends. The experiment is hereby scheduled for Easter.’
    With a scream, Father Domenico bolted from the room. Had Baines not been taught all his life long that such a thing wasimpossible in a man of God, Baines would have identified it without a second thought as a scream of hatred.

Theron Ware had been dreaming a journey to the Antarctic continent in the midst of its Jurassic splendour, fifty million years ago, but the dream had been becoming a little muddled with personal fantasies – mostly involving a minor enemy whom he had in reality sent for, with flourishes, a good decade ago – and he was not sorry when it vanished unfinished at dawn.
    He awoke sweating, though the dream had not been