| THE LORELEI SIGNAL |
.
| Written by James Hartley/ Artwork by Marge Simon |
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| A Proud Thing |
I never thought that being attractive was a problem. I certainly liked it whenever Patton, my fiancé, would
say, “Ginger, you are beautiful!” But others found me beautiful too, which was what led to my being
kidnapped. I’m a Public Relations consultant, which means I make a lot of appearances in public, all over the
country, and not infrequently on stage in front of an audience. Often men would come up after one of these
appearances and ask for a date, but I would simply flash the diamond engagement ring Patton had given me
and politely turn them down. None of them had ever tried to push the issue, to tell me they wouldn’t take ‘no’
for an answer. Until...
#
I had gone to bed in my apartment the previous night. Alone, of course. Patton feels it would be sinful to
sleep together before marriage... I’m not sure how I feel about the ‘sin’ thing, but it’s easier to just agree. I
do know it would not help his personal reputation, nor that of his TV Evangelism Crusade, if we did sleep
together and it got out. So that’s another reason to go along with Patton. Yes, I’m talking about that Patton,
the Reverend Patton Button. Anyway, I had thrown on a cheap nightgown, no panties—I never wear panties
to bed—and I had gotten under the covers and turned out the light. I know I was pretty sleepy and had
dozed off right away.
When I awoke it was morning, and I was somewhere else. I was lying in a big bed with sheets that felt like
silk, and I was wearing an ‘I Dream of Jeannie’ harem outfit. A halter top and those big billowing pants, all
done in some sheer gauzy cloth.
And the room, well, the room was easily four times the size of my bedroom, and ornately over-decorated.
There were two doors. The first one I tried was locked. The second opened into a bathroom, which I suddenly
realized I needed, and made use of. In addition to the usual plumbing there was a big stall shower and a
really huge Jacuzzi. One wall had a full length mirror, and when I looked in it I realized how sheer the material
of the clothes really was. I might as well have been wearing cellophane! I mean, all the merchandise was on
display. I was quite sure Patton would not approve.
I was just stepping back out of the bathroom when the other door, the one that had been locked, opened
and two men and two women entered. I was not happy about having men here, given the transparency of
the clothing, but I decided there wasn’t a heck of a lot I could do about it.
All of the newcomers bowed, three so deeply their heads almost touched the floor. The fourth, a man, was
carrying a large tray, and managed a compromise between a deep bow and keeping the tray from spilling.
One of the women spoke, “Miss Ginger, your breakfast,” and signaled to the man with the tray, who unloaded
it onto a small table and set a place for eating. The other man pulled out a chair for me.
The breakfast looked good, I hadn’t seen as fancy a spread since the last time I went on a cruise, but I
decided it was time to dig in my heels a bit. “Wait a minute, what’s going on here?” I said. “Where am I, and
who are you people?”
The one who had spoken before said, “You are in your room in the Palace of the Mage, Miss Ginger. We are
your servants, and we have brought your breakfast.” The one holding the chair moved it slightly, as if to
encourage me to sit.
A great answer, truthful but completely uninformative. These servants were either stupid or well-trained in
withholding information, I wasn’t sure which. I wasn’t getting anywhere, and the food looked good, so I went
over and sat as the man pushed the chair in for me. The breakfast had all sorts of fancy stuff—Eggs Benedict,
kippers, little danishes, fruit, ham, cheese. It was far fancier than I normally fixed for myself, but it looked
good and smelled even better. I said, “Thank you.” All four bowed deeply and then stood there. I had the
feeling that if it took me a year to eat this breakfast the four would still be standing there. I dug in, the food
was delicious, and hey, I was hungry.
As I ate I looked the four over. All wore identical gray uniforms bare of any markings or ornamentation, and
odd-looking metal collars. Servants, or maybe even slaves. They certainly treated me as their superior.
I was getting full, and I decided to try a few more questions. I turned to the one I thought of as the leader
and asked. “You said I was in the Palace of the Mage. Who is this Mage person?”
“Miss Ginger, the Mage is a Sorcerer, the wisest and most powerful Sorcerer in the world.”
I thought about that, then said, “Why am I in the Palace of the Mage?” I took one last bite of danish and a
swig of coffee.
The woman paused for a moment, then said, “Miss Ginger, you were brought here because you are very
beautiful. The Mage has selected you as his newest concubine.”
I sprayed a mouthful of danish and coffee all over the table and started coughing and choking. My God!
Concubine? I couldn’t believe it. I was kidnapped to put out for some damn magician? I gradually got my
choking under control. One of them was patting my back while the others cleaned up the mess I had made.
When everything was finally clean and straightened up, they left with several more deep bows. The woman
who was apparently the leader said, “We will see you at lunch, Miss Ginger,” as she pulled the door shut
after her.
I checked the door, but it was locked again. However high the four considered my status, it seemed obvious
that I was a prisoner here...wherever here was. I did a search of the room, but saw nothing obviously useful.
There were no clocks, no way to tell time, but there was a window out of which I could see lawn, gardens,
and a few trees. What I could see looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place it. Well, wherever it was looked
more inviting than where I was now, and the window wasn’t too far above the ground...
A careful inspection of the window showed it was not intended to open. I banged on it with my hand, nothing
happened. I took another look around and decided on the chairs by the breakfast table. There were three of
them, and the one I sat in during breakfast had felt very solid. I grabbed it. It was heavy but not too heavy to
lift, and I swung it at the window with all my strength. Result, one totally smashed chair, one totally intact
window. Obviously I wasn’t getting out that way. For lack of any other ideas, I sat down to wait.
The shadows of the trees were very short when the door opened and the four came in bringing my lunch. The
deep bows, the setting out of the meal, the bit with the chair were all the same as they had been at
breakfast. They seemed oblivious to the smashed chair. I looked at the food on the table, and wondered if
someone was reading my mind. The main course was Steak Tartare, one of my all time favorites, but almost
impossible to get nowadays. It was accompanied by a nice Cabernet, and I dug in. About halfway through the
meal I had a thought. I turned to the woman I thought of as the leader of the foursome and asked, “What is
your name?”
She blushed as she did the usual deep bow, and said, “I regret to inform Miss Ginger that none of us has the
honor of a name. A thousand pardons!”
No names? Weird. “It’s confusing for me if you have no names. Would it be OK if I called you ‘Alpha’? Your
companion here,” pointing at the second woman, “can be ‘Beta’. He,” I pointed at the man who carried the
tray, “can be ‘Gamma’, and he can be ‘Delta’.” I indicated the second man.
All four bowed low again, and Alpha said, “Miss Ginger honors us in giving us names. This boon is far beyond
any ability we have to thank her, but a million, million thanks as token payment.” They straightened up, and I
could see their new names printed on their uniform jackets. I didn’t want to know how that was done.
I just kept eating.
I expected the four to leave after lunch, but apparently the afternoon schedule was different. Alpha bowed
and said, “Come, please, Miss Ginger, it is time to go to the Common Room.”
“The Common Room?”
“Yes, Miss Ginger, it is not good for the Misses to spend all their time alone. All the Misses gather in the
Common Room after lunch.” She opened the door and motioned me out into the corridor.
I looked around. I was in a wide hallway with doors down either side. I could see the one across from my
room was numbered 174, and had a window that allowed one to see into the room. I looked around at my
door. It was numbered 173, and even though it had appeared solid from inside it too had a window.
So I was being spied on? I wasn’t happy about that.
Alpha motioned me to the left and we walked past decreasing room numbers. A wall with a doorway in it
formed the end of the hallway. The last two rooms were 161 and 162, the door on the end wall was labeled
‘Common Room’. Delta opened the door and we all walked through into a room about the size of a football
field. I looked back at the door, this side was labeled ‘Rooms 161-180’. The strange thing was that, even
though the corridor had been easily twenty feet wide, on this side there were more doors, no more than four
feet to the left and right, and as I watched the door to the left opened for people to enter. Through it I could
see a corridor that looked the same as the one I had entered from, even though I knew in my corridor there
was a blank wall opposite that door.
There were sofas scattered around at random, and girls dressed as I was were sitting on the sofas. Each girl
had her cohort of four servants standing near her, ready and waiting. Each group of four was identical to
every other group of four. I wouldn’t have even been sure which were mine, except for the names that had
appeared on their uniforms. None of the girls were talking to each other, there were no TV sets, there didn’t
seem to be any reason for the girls to be here rather than in their rooms.
Alpha tried to steer me to an empty sofa, but I wanted to look around. As I went by some of the other girls I
tried to talk to them, but got no response from any of them. It was like trying to converse with zombies.
Finally, on the far side of the room, I spotted a welcome sight—a bookcase—and I made a beeline for it. I was
a little disappointed to find it was filled only with romance novels, but I was bored to the point where I would
read anything, even the back of a matchbook. I picked one of the thicker books, some kind of historical
romance, and settled on a sofa to read. It wasn’t too bad and I got absorbed in it.
I had no idea how much time had passed when a gong sounded and the girls started to get up and head
toward their doors. Alpha bowed to me and said, “Miss Ginger, it is time to go back to your room.” She
reached for my book and said, “Please allow me the privilege of putting your book back.”
I pulled the book away from her reaching hand and said, “No, I want to take it back to my room to continue
reading it.”
Apparently this presented her with some sort of terrible dilemma, because she froze and stared into space.
She looked like she was communicating with some invisible person. Finally she relaxed and said, “Miss Ginger,
it is permitted that you take the book with you. It is something that has never been done before, but it is
permitted.” She bowed and said, “Come, Miss Ginger.”
I got up and she led me back through the ‘161-180’ door and back to my room. I noticed the smashed chair
had been replaced or repaired while I was out. The four left and I settled down and dove back into the book.
The next thing I knew the four were back with dinner. That day set the pattern for the next several.
I was working my way through the book supply, often bringing an extra back to my room “just in case I
finished one.” I never saw any of the other girls with books. In fact, if I had to guess I would have said they
were drugged or hypnotized. Nor did I understand why I was not a zombie like the others.
Nothing ever happened after dinner. I would sit and read until I got sleepy, then sack out. So it was a
surprise when the door opened one evening and a man walked in. He was tall and handsome, piercing blue
eyes, black hair shading into gray sideburns. I recognized him, he had been in the front row at several of my
presentations. He was one of the ones who had asked me for a date. I had a hunch who he was, and he
immediately confirmed it by announcing, “Ginger, I am the Mage. You would not co-operate in the outside
world, so I have brought you here to be my concubine. Tell me you love me!”
“Excuse me?” I said. “I’ve been kidnapped, I’m being held against my will, and now you have the gall to ask
me that? Forget it!”
He stopped short for a moment. Then he wiggled his fingers at me and muttered something under his breath.
I just stood there, and apparently that was just what he expected. He resumed his advance, and when he
got close enough he put an arm around me and pulled me in, aiming a kiss at my mouth, while placing his free
hand on my breast.
A couple of years earlier I had taken a class in self-defense, and they really drilled it into you, so you act by
reflex if attacked. I brought my knee up, hard and fast. The Mage screamed, then dropped to the floor, hands
clutching his groin. There was an immediate uproar outside the door, somebody out there could see what
was happening but couldn’t get in to help.
Gradually the Mage recovered his breath. He pointed a finger at the door and said “Alohomora,” and the door
popped open. Several of the gray-clad servants rushed in, pulled him to his feet, and half dragged, half
carried him from the room. The last one out slammed the door, and when I checked it was locked.
I turned the word he had used over in my mind, I knew I had heard it somewhere. Then it came to me, that
was what Hermione used to unlock doors at Hogwarts. The door must have a voice-controlled lock, and some
would-be humorist had chosen that as the activating word. I looked at the door, pointed my finger at it as he
had done, and said “Alohomora.”
I must have jumped two feet when the door popped open, but I had enough presence of mind to grab the
knob and prevent it from swinging shut again. I peeked out, there was nobody in the hall, so I left the room. I
knew the Common Room was to the left, no help there, I went to the right.
The wall at this end of the corridor had three doors, ‘Kitchen’, ‘Servant Quarters’, and ‘Lab’. All three were
locked, but Lab sounded most promising, so I pointed at it and said “Alohomora.” Apparently all the voice
locks were set to the same code word, because this one opened too. Before I could think too much about
what I was doing and get scared, I went in.
The lab was empty. There were cabinets along the walls, hundreds of cabinets, and workbenches down the
center of the room. I opened a bunch of cabinets, but found most of them empty. One had some servant
uniforms, and the one next to it had a bunch of the servant collars. After a while I got tired of opening
cabinets and stopped to look around. I was less than a quarter of the way down one wall, but suddenly I
was drawn to one particular cabinet at the far end of the other wall.
I went over and tried it, but it was locked. I was going to ignore it, but I kept getting the feeling I really
needed to open it. I pointed at it and said, “Alohomora” and it popped open. In it were a small book and a
wand, and on impulse I picked them up. The book’s front cover had “Spell Book” in gold lettering, and below
that “Jamseth.” On the back it said “It is a Proud Thing to be a Witch.” That bothered me somehow even
though I knew there was no such thing as a witch. One of Patton’s favorite biblical quotes was “Thou shalt
not suffer a witch to live.” I had never had a problem with that before, but now it was giving me an uneasy
feeling. I was not sure why.
I looked around again, but none of the other cabinets seemed to be calling me. There was an open doorway
at the end of the room opposite to where I had entered, and through it I could see a staircase going down.
Since this was the only other exit I could see, I went over and looked. It was a spiral staircase, and went
down as far as I could see without any breaks or landings. The sensible side of me wanted nothing to do with
this, but once again I felt a pull, a hunch, and I started down the steps. I had once walked down from the top
of the Washington Monument, this felt longer, but finally I reached the bottom. I was in a round chamber with
a dozen or so corridors leading off in all directions. I looked around and again there was a pull from one
corridor.
By now I was getting used to these hunches or whatever they were, and I started off. The corridor twisted
and branched, but every time I had to choose it was almost like there was an arrow on the floor pointing the
way. After ten minutes of walking I came to a small open space with what seemed to be a jail cell on the
opposite side. There was a man in the cell staring at me.
“Who are you?” he asked. “You’re dressed like one of the harem girls, but you aren’t acting like a zombie.”
“I’m Ginger. Ginger Sullivan. I was kidnapped and brought here to be a concubine, but then this Mage guy
tried to grope me and I gave him a knee to the, er, family jewels. I’m engaged to Patton and I have no desire
to be this clown’s sex kitten.” As I said that I began to get that uneasy feeling again, and I wished I hadn’t
mentioned being engaged to Patton. What was happening to me?
“How did you get out of your room? And into the Lab?”
“Oh, that was easy. After I got Mr. Fresh Hands with my knee, I heard him use the voice code on the sound
operated lock of my room. After he left I tried the voice code and it worked. It worked on the lab door, too.
Would you like me to try it on your cell door?”
“Yes! Please!”
By now I was no longer surprised when I said “Alohomora” and the cell door opened. “There you go.”
He stepped out and said, “Pleased to meet you, Ginger. My name is Jamseth.” Then, noticing the little book I
was carrying, he continued, “I see you have my book. May I please have it?” When I handed it to him he
opened it, held up a page, and said, “Ginger, please read this for me? Aloud?”
Puzzled, I looked at the book and read, “Vocabulus Restoro. OK, what does that mean?”
Jamseth muttered something and the cell door slammed shut. He grinned and said, “The Mage cast a spell on
me, restricting my ability to work magic, that’s why I couldn’t open the cell door. But the counter spell you just
cast restored my abilities, for which I thank you. Now we have to get out of here, out of the Palace. There’s a
hidden exit at the top of the stairs.”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute! I don’t understand half of what you’re saying, and I’d certainly like to get out
of here, but I do know if I go out in public in this outfit I’ll get picked up for public indecency before you can
blink! If we’re going anywhere I need some clothes.”
“OK,” he said, “I think there are some servant uniforms up in the lab. Will one of those do?”
“Oh, yeah,” I said, “I saw them in one of the cabinets. With luck they’ll fit, close enough anyway.”
We headed back toward the stairs. Again I could almost see the arrows pointing the way. I got the feeling
Jamseth could see them too, he was not following me, he knew the way. When we got to the bottom of the
staircase, we stopped and Jamseth said, “Ginger, there’s something bothering me. You should not have been
able to open doors with Alohomora, you should not have been able to use Vocabulus Restoro, you should
have been a zombie like the rest of the concubines. I need to check something; would you please give me my
wand?”
I handed it to him and he proceeded to wave it around me, much the way an airport security guard would
scan with a metal detector. I watched him, and finally said, “Well?”
“Ginger, this may be hard for you to accept, but there are no voice activated doors in the Palace, and
Alohomora is not a, what did you call it, a voice-code. Those doors were locked magically, and Alohomora is an
opening spell, a magic spell. The reason you could use it is because you are a witch. A very powerful witch.”
I gasped. “A witch? Me, a witch? I always believed there was no such thing as a witch, it was just a
Halloween fantasy.” I thought for a moment, then it hit me. “Patton, Patton, what are you going to do when
you learn your fiancée is a witch?”
“Among my people, it is a proud thing to be a witch, your Patton should be proud of you. But we really have
to get going.” He took my hand and we started up the stairs.
Jamseth seemed to have no trouble with the long climb, and I discovered a deep breath every once in a while
kept me going. I remembered going for a walk with Patton, how he always got totally winded, how he would
drop to his knees and pray for strength, and how I had always managed to avoid seeing that a long prayer
was more an opportunity for catching one’s breath than a religious observance.
When we got to the top of the stairs I went over to the cabinet with the gray outfits and pulled one out.
Jamseth faced away while I put it on. “Thanks,” I said. “That’s the first time I’ve felt really dressed since I got
here.”
Before we could do anything else, the door slammed open and a horde of the gray-clad servants burst in on
us. Jamseth aimed his wand and yelled, “Disgolem!” Bolts of lightning flew from the wand and the servants
burst into clouds of dust, the empty uniforms and collars dropping to the floor. I was horrified to see Alpha
and Gamma disintegrated with the rest. When the influx finally ceased Jamseth said, “Portalis Dispellium!” The
door slammed shut, then faded until there was nothing but a bare wall. He turned, saw my face, and asked,
“What’s the matter?”
“Two of those were my servants, I saw the names on their uniforms, they were so proud of having names. I
guess, in spite of everything, I got a little attached to them.”
“Oh. Ginger, they are—were—not human. They are constructs, golems, magical robots. Each set of four is
identical to every other set, surely you noticed that?”
“I noticed, but I didn’t understand what it meant. I’m new to all of this witch and magic stuff. When do I get to
ride a broomstick?”
“A broomstick? Never, that’s just a fantasy. But you will learn other skills, and quickly. Now, we need to go.”
He led me back to the stairwell and muttered a few words. The stairwell vanished and was replaced by a
tunnel.
We entered and found ourselves in another maze, but again the path to follow was obvious. “Is this ability to
get through the maze another of the witch powers you are talking about?”
“Yes, and also your resistance to the zombie spell. Your powers are developing rapidly.” He paused. “I feel
some conflict in you, some problem with being a witch and being engaged to this Patton. I don’t want to pry,
but would it help to talk about it?”
“I don’t know...” I started, and then suddenly realized I could sense an undercurrent to his words—he was
attracted to me and wanted to find out if he had any chance! I wasn’t sure what to say, but before I could
decide there was a noise behind us.
Jamseth grabbed my arm and said, “Run, Ginger! They’re after us.” He gave me a shove forward, paused to
cast another Disgolem spell back at the pursuers, and joined me in running as fast as we could through the
twisting tunnels. Once again an occasional deep breath kept me from getting tired or winded, apparently
another witch power.
Finally the tunnel straightened out and I thought I could see an opening a long way ahead of us. Then there
was a noise behind us. I looked over my shoulder and saw another horde of the servants, this time with the
Mage in their center. Before I could say anything, a blast of light issued from the Mage’s wand and hit
Jamseth. He fell to the floor, stunned, and dropped his wand.
Somehow, I knew what I had to do. I grabbed Jamseth’s wand, aimed it at our attackers, and hollered
“Disgolem!” This time the lightning from the wand actually blew up the servants instead of just turning them
to dust, and the explosion knocked the Mage off his feet and landed him on his butt. Another phrase popped
into my mind; I waved the wand again, yelled “Tectum deleo!” and the roof fell in. With the tunnel effectively
blocked, at least for a while, I helped Jamseth to his feet and started walking him toward the exit.
As soon as he could talk, Jamseth asked me, “Ginger, where in the world did you learn that last spell?”
“I don’t know, it just came to me and I used it. Why?”
“That was an extremely advanced bit of magic. Very few witches could make that work, but you...” He put out
his hand, and I gave him back his wand. “Thanks. But we better move, before the Mage manages to get
through that rockslide you caused.”
As we approached the opening, we put on a burst of speed and tumbled out of the tunnel onto grass. I
looked back and saw the mouth of the tunnel hanging in the air between two large trees. Then, as Jamseth
yelled, “Portalis Dispellium!” it disappeared.
I looked around and realized we were in Memorial Park, not far from my apartment. No wonder the view from
the window of my room had looked familiar. Jamseth took my arm and sat me down on a nearby bench. “You
were starting to tell me about your fiancé Patton, and what your being a witch will mean.”
“Before we get into that, Jamseth, I need to ask you something. I think I sensed your thoughts, underneath
your words, and you were feeling attracted to me. You really want to find out about Patton to see if you have
any chance with me, right?”
Jamseth looked stunned. “Ginger, you are developing your powers at an incredible rate. I would not have
expected you to reach this level for months or years. But yes, you read me correctly. I must act honorably, if I
can help you with Patton I will. Or, should you choose otherwise than Patton, I would be delighted if you
might consider me.”
“Jamseth, my problem is simple. I’ve just found out I’m a witch, and how many times have I heard Patton use
that line from the Bible, ‘thou shalt not suffer a witch to live?’ If I tell him, how is he going to accept it? And if I
try to keep it hidden, how can that work?”
“Why would your fiancé be quoting things like that from the Bible?”
“The Reverend Patton Button, of the TV Evangelism Crusade. You must have heard of him, he’s famous. He is
my fiancé, and I have given my word to marry him.” I looked down at the diamond ring on my finger. “Oh my
God, what am I going to do? I’m a witch!” I was now sobbing.
Jamseth put an arm around me and held me. “Ginger, I have heard of him, and I know what I would do in
such a situation. But I don’t know what you should do, you have to decide that yourself. Among my people, it
is said that it is a proud thing to be a witch. I will help, but you must choose.”
“A proud thing to be a witch,” I looked at him as I repeated his words through my tears. “Jamseth, I have to
think long and carefully on this.” I thought of how Jamseth and I had fought our way out of the Mage’s
palace, and I forced myself to admit that had it been Patton with me I would still be a prisoner. I thought of
why I was engaged to Patton, and for the life of me I was no longer sure. By now I was no longer crying, and
I knew that deep down inside I had made my decision. Forgive me, Patton, I have no choice. I am a witch,
and it is a proud thing to be a witch.
I removed Patton’s ring from my finger.
say, “Ginger, you are beautiful!” But others found me beautiful too, which was what led to my being
kidnapped. I’m a Public Relations consultant, which means I make a lot of appearances in public, all over the
country, and not infrequently on stage in front of an audience. Often men would come up after one of these
appearances and ask for a date, but I would simply flash the diamond engagement ring Patton had given me
and politely turn them down. None of them had ever tried to push the issue, to tell me they wouldn’t take ‘no’
for an answer. Until...
#
I had gone to bed in my apartment the previous night. Alone, of course. Patton feels it would be sinful to
sleep together before marriage... I’m not sure how I feel about the ‘sin’ thing, but it’s easier to just agree. I
do know it would not help his personal reputation, nor that of his TV Evangelism Crusade, if we did sleep
together and it got out. So that’s another reason to go along with Patton. Yes, I’m talking about that Patton,
the Reverend Patton Button. Anyway, I had thrown on a cheap nightgown, no panties—I never wear panties
to bed—and I had gotten under the covers and turned out the light. I know I was pretty sleepy and had
dozed off right away.
When I awoke it was morning, and I was somewhere else. I was lying in a big bed with sheets that felt like
silk, and I was wearing an ‘I Dream of Jeannie’ harem outfit. A halter top and those big billowing pants, all
done in some sheer gauzy cloth.
And the room, well, the room was easily four times the size of my bedroom, and ornately over-decorated.
There were two doors. The first one I tried was locked. The second opened into a bathroom, which I suddenly
realized I needed, and made use of. In addition to the usual plumbing there was a big stall shower and a
really huge Jacuzzi. One wall had a full length mirror, and when I looked in it I realized how sheer the material
of the clothes really was. I might as well have been wearing cellophane! I mean, all the merchandise was on
display. I was quite sure Patton would not approve.
I was just stepping back out of the bathroom when the other door, the one that had been locked, opened
and two men and two women entered. I was not happy about having men here, given the transparency of
the clothing, but I decided there wasn’t a heck of a lot I could do about it.
All of the newcomers bowed, three so deeply their heads almost touched the floor. The fourth, a man, was
carrying a large tray, and managed a compromise between a deep bow and keeping the tray from spilling.
One of the women spoke, “Miss Ginger, your breakfast,” and signaled to the man with the tray, who unloaded
it onto a small table and set a place for eating. The other man pulled out a chair for me.
The breakfast looked good, I hadn’t seen as fancy a spread since the last time I went on a cruise, but I
decided it was time to dig in my heels a bit. “Wait a minute, what’s going on here?” I said. “Where am I, and
who are you people?”
The one who had spoken before said, “You are in your room in the Palace of the Mage, Miss Ginger. We are
your servants, and we have brought your breakfast.” The one holding the chair moved it slightly, as if to
encourage me to sit.
A great answer, truthful but completely uninformative. These servants were either stupid or well-trained in
withholding information, I wasn’t sure which. I wasn’t getting anywhere, and the food looked good, so I went
over and sat as the man pushed the chair in for me. The breakfast had all sorts of fancy stuff—Eggs Benedict,
kippers, little danishes, fruit, ham, cheese. It was far fancier than I normally fixed for myself, but it looked
good and smelled even better. I said, “Thank you.” All four bowed deeply and then stood there. I had the
feeling that if it took me a year to eat this breakfast the four would still be standing there. I dug in, the food
was delicious, and hey, I was hungry.
As I ate I looked the four over. All wore identical gray uniforms bare of any markings or ornamentation, and
odd-looking metal collars. Servants, or maybe even slaves. They certainly treated me as their superior.
I was getting full, and I decided to try a few more questions. I turned to the one I thought of as the leader
and asked. “You said I was in the Palace of the Mage. Who is this Mage person?”
“Miss Ginger, the Mage is a Sorcerer, the wisest and most powerful Sorcerer in the world.”
I thought about that, then said, “Why am I in the Palace of the Mage?” I took one last bite of danish and a
swig of coffee.
The woman paused for a moment, then said, “Miss Ginger, you were brought here because you are very
beautiful. The Mage has selected you as his newest concubine.”
I sprayed a mouthful of danish and coffee all over the table and started coughing and choking. My God!
Concubine? I couldn’t believe it. I was kidnapped to put out for some damn magician? I gradually got my
choking under control. One of them was patting my back while the others cleaned up the mess I had made.
When everything was finally clean and straightened up, they left with several more deep bows. The woman
who was apparently the leader said, “We will see you at lunch, Miss Ginger,” as she pulled the door shut
after her.
I checked the door, but it was locked again. However high the four considered my status, it seemed obvious
that I was a prisoner here...wherever here was. I did a search of the room, but saw nothing obviously useful.
There were no clocks, no way to tell time, but there was a window out of which I could see lawn, gardens,
and a few trees. What I could see looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place it. Well, wherever it was looked
more inviting than where I was now, and the window wasn’t too far above the ground...
A careful inspection of the window showed it was not intended to open. I banged on it with my hand, nothing
happened. I took another look around and decided on the chairs by the breakfast table. There were three of
them, and the one I sat in during breakfast had felt very solid. I grabbed it. It was heavy but not too heavy to
lift, and I swung it at the window with all my strength. Result, one totally smashed chair, one totally intact
window. Obviously I wasn’t getting out that way. For lack of any other ideas, I sat down to wait.
The shadows of the trees were very short when the door opened and the four came in bringing my lunch. The
deep bows, the setting out of the meal, the bit with the chair were all the same as they had been at
breakfast. They seemed oblivious to the smashed chair. I looked at the food on the table, and wondered if
someone was reading my mind. The main course was Steak Tartare, one of my all time favorites, but almost
impossible to get nowadays. It was accompanied by a nice Cabernet, and I dug in. About halfway through the
meal I had a thought. I turned to the woman I thought of as the leader of the foursome and asked, “What is
your name?”
She blushed as she did the usual deep bow, and said, “I regret to inform Miss Ginger that none of us has the
honor of a name. A thousand pardons!”
No names? Weird. “It’s confusing for me if you have no names. Would it be OK if I called you ‘Alpha’? Your
companion here,” pointing at the second woman, “can be ‘Beta’. He,” I pointed at the man who carried the
tray, “can be ‘Gamma’, and he can be ‘Delta’.” I indicated the second man.
All four bowed low again, and Alpha said, “Miss Ginger honors us in giving us names. This boon is far beyond
any ability we have to thank her, but a million, million thanks as token payment.” They straightened up, and I
could see their new names printed on their uniform jackets. I didn’t want to know how that was done.
I just kept eating.
I expected the four to leave after lunch, but apparently the afternoon schedule was different. Alpha bowed
and said, “Come, please, Miss Ginger, it is time to go to the Common Room.”
“The Common Room?”
“Yes, Miss Ginger, it is not good for the Misses to spend all their time alone. All the Misses gather in the
Common Room after lunch.” She opened the door and motioned me out into the corridor.
I looked around. I was in a wide hallway with doors down either side. I could see the one across from my
room was numbered 174, and had a window that allowed one to see into the room. I looked around at my
door. It was numbered 173, and even though it had appeared solid from inside it too had a window.
So I was being spied on? I wasn’t happy about that.
Alpha motioned me to the left and we walked past decreasing room numbers. A wall with a doorway in it
formed the end of the hallway. The last two rooms were 161 and 162, the door on the end wall was labeled
‘Common Room’. Delta opened the door and we all walked through into a room about the size of a football
field. I looked back at the door, this side was labeled ‘Rooms 161-180’. The strange thing was that, even
though the corridor had been easily twenty feet wide, on this side there were more doors, no more than four
feet to the left and right, and as I watched the door to the left opened for people to enter. Through it I could
see a corridor that looked the same as the one I had entered from, even though I knew in my corridor there
was a blank wall opposite that door.
There were sofas scattered around at random, and girls dressed as I was were sitting on the sofas. Each girl
had her cohort of four servants standing near her, ready and waiting. Each group of four was identical to
every other group of four. I wouldn’t have even been sure which were mine, except for the names that had
appeared on their uniforms. None of the girls were talking to each other, there were no TV sets, there didn’t
seem to be any reason for the girls to be here rather than in their rooms.
Alpha tried to steer me to an empty sofa, but I wanted to look around. As I went by some of the other girls I
tried to talk to them, but got no response from any of them. It was like trying to converse with zombies.
Finally, on the far side of the room, I spotted a welcome sight—a bookcase—and I made a beeline for it. I was
a little disappointed to find it was filled only with romance novels, but I was bored to the point where I would
read anything, even the back of a matchbook. I picked one of the thicker books, some kind of historical
romance, and settled on a sofa to read. It wasn’t too bad and I got absorbed in it.
I had no idea how much time had passed when a gong sounded and the girls started to get up and head
toward their doors. Alpha bowed to me and said, “Miss Ginger, it is time to go back to your room.” She
reached for my book and said, “Please allow me the privilege of putting your book back.”
I pulled the book away from her reaching hand and said, “No, I want to take it back to my room to continue
reading it.”
Apparently this presented her with some sort of terrible dilemma, because she froze and stared into space.
She looked like she was communicating with some invisible person. Finally she relaxed and said, “Miss Ginger,
it is permitted that you take the book with you. It is something that has never been done before, but it is
permitted.” She bowed and said, “Come, Miss Ginger.”
I got up and she led me back through the ‘161-180’ door and back to my room. I noticed the smashed chair
had been replaced or repaired while I was out. The four left and I settled down and dove back into the book.
The next thing I knew the four were back with dinner. That day set the pattern for the next several.
I was working my way through the book supply, often bringing an extra back to my room “just in case I
finished one.” I never saw any of the other girls with books. In fact, if I had to guess I would have said they
were drugged or hypnotized. Nor did I understand why I was not a zombie like the others.
Nothing ever happened after dinner. I would sit and read until I got sleepy, then sack out. So it was a
surprise when the door opened one evening and a man walked in. He was tall and handsome, piercing blue
eyes, black hair shading into gray sideburns. I recognized him, he had been in the front row at several of my
presentations. He was one of the ones who had asked me for a date. I had a hunch who he was, and he
immediately confirmed it by announcing, “Ginger, I am the Mage. You would not co-operate in the outside
world, so I have brought you here to be my concubine. Tell me you love me!”
“Excuse me?” I said. “I’ve been kidnapped, I’m being held against my will, and now you have the gall to ask
me that? Forget it!”
He stopped short for a moment. Then he wiggled his fingers at me and muttered something under his breath.
I just stood there, and apparently that was just what he expected. He resumed his advance, and when he
got close enough he put an arm around me and pulled me in, aiming a kiss at my mouth, while placing his free
hand on my breast.
A couple of years earlier I had taken a class in self-defense, and they really drilled it into you, so you act by
reflex if attacked. I brought my knee up, hard and fast. The Mage screamed, then dropped to the floor, hands
clutching his groin. There was an immediate uproar outside the door, somebody out there could see what
was happening but couldn’t get in to help.
Gradually the Mage recovered his breath. He pointed a finger at the door and said “Alohomora,” and the door
popped open. Several of the gray-clad servants rushed in, pulled him to his feet, and half dragged, half
carried him from the room. The last one out slammed the door, and when I checked it was locked.
I turned the word he had used over in my mind, I knew I had heard it somewhere. Then it came to me, that
was what Hermione used to unlock doors at Hogwarts. The door must have a voice-controlled lock, and some
would-be humorist had chosen that as the activating word. I looked at the door, pointed my finger at it as he
had done, and said “Alohomora.”
I must have jumped two feet when the door popped open, but I had enough presence of mind to grab the
knob and prevent it from swinging shut again. I peeked out, there was nobody in the hall, so I left the room. I
knew the Common Room was to the left, no help there, I went to the right.
The wall at this end of the corridor had three doors, ‘Kitchen’, ‘Servant Quarters’, and ‘Lab’. All three were
locked, but Lab sounded most promising, so I pointed at it and said “Alohomora.” Apparently all the voice
locks were set to the same code word, because this one opened too. Before I could think too much about
what I was doing and get scared, I went in.
The lab was empty. There were cabinets along the walls, hundreds of cabinets, and workbenches down the
center of the room. I opened a bunch of cabinets, but found most of them empty. One had some servant
uniforms, and the one next to it had a bunch of the servant collars. After a while I got tired of opening
cabinets and stopped to look around. I was less than a quarter of the way down one wall, but suddenly I
was drawn to one particular cabinet at the far end of the other wall.
I went over and tried it, but it was locked. I was going to ignore it, but I kept getting the feeling I really
needed to open it. I pointed at it and said, “Alohomora” and it popped open. In it were a small book and a
wand, and on impulse I picked them up. The book’s front cover had “Spell Book” in gold lettering, and below
that “Jamseth.” On the back it said “It is a Proud Thing to be a Witch.” That bothered me somehow even
though I knew there was no such thing as a witch. One of Patton’s favorite biblical quotes was “Thou shalt
not suffer a witch to live.” I had never had a problem with that before, but now it was giving me an uneasy
feeling. I was not sure why.
I looked around again, but none of the other cabinets seemed to be calling me. There was an open doorway
at the end of the room opposite to where I had entered, and through it I could see a staircase going down.
Since this was the only other exit I could see, I went over and looked. It was a spiral staircase, and went
down as far as I could see without any breaks or landings. The sensible side of me wanted nothing to do with
this, but once again I felt a pull, a hunch, and I started down the steps. I had once walked down from the top
of the Washington Monument, this felt longer, but finally I reached the bottom. I was in a round chamber with
a dozen or so corridors leading off in all directions. I looked around and again there was a pull from one
corridor.
By now I was getting used to these hunches or whatever they were, and I started off. The corridor twisted
and branched, but every time I had to choose it was almost like there was an arrow on the floor pointing the
way. After ten minutes of walking I came to a small open space with what seemed to be a jail cell on the
opposite side. There was a man in the cell staring at me.
“Who are you?” he asked. “You’re dressed like one of the harem girls, but you aren’t acting like a zombie.”
“I’m Ginger. Ginger Sullivan. I was kidnapped and brought here to be a concubine, but then this Mage guy
tried to grope me and I gave him a knee to the, er, family jewels. I’m engaged to Patton and I have no desire
to be this clown’s sex kitten.” As I said that I began to get that uneasy feeling again, and I wished I hadn’t
mentioned being engaged to Patton. What was happening to me?
“How did you get out of your room? And into the Lab?”
“Oh, that was easy. After I got Mr. Fresh Hands with my knee, I heard him use the voice code on the sound
operated lock of my room. After he left I tried the voice code and it worked. It worked on the lab door, too.
Would you like me to try it on your cell door?”
“Yes! Please!”
By now I was no longer surprised when I said “Alohomora” and the cell door opened. “There you go.”
He stepped out and said, “Pleased to meet you, Ginger. My name is Jamseth.” Then, noticing the little book I
was carrying, he continued, “I see you have my book. May I please have it?” When I handed it to him he
opened it, held up a page, and said, “Ginger, please read this for me? Aloud?”
Puzzled, I looked at the book and read, “Vocabulus Restoro. OK, what does that mean?”
Jamseth muttered something and the cell door slammed shut. He grinned and said, “The Mage cast a spell on
me, restricting my ability to work magic, that’s why I couldn’t open the cell door. But the counter spell you just
cast restored my abilities, for which I thank you. Now we have to get out of here, out of the Palace. There’s a
hidden exit at the top of the stairs.”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute! I don’t understand half of what you’re saying, and I’d certainly like to get out
of here, but I do know if I go out in public in this outfit I’ll get picked up for public indecency before you can
blink! If we’re going anywhere I need some clothes.”
“OK,” he said, “I think there are some servant uniforms up in the lab. Will one of those do?”
“Oh, yeah,” I said, “I saw them in one of the cabinets. With luck they’ll fit, close enough anyway.”
We headed back toward the stairs. Again I could almost see the arrows pointing the way. I got the feeling
Jamseth could see them too, he was not following me, he knew the way. When we got to the bottom of the
staircase, we stopped and Jamseth said, “Ginger, there’s something bothering me. You should not have been
able to open doors with Alohomora, you should not have been able to use Vocabulus Restoro, you should
have been a zombie like the rest of the concubines. I need to check something; would you please give me my
wand?”
I handed it to him and he proceeded to wave it around me, much the way an airport security guard would
scan with a metal detector. I watched him, and finally said, “Well?”
“Ginger, this may be hard for you to accept, but there are no voice activated doors in the Palace, and
Alohomora is not a, what did you call it, a voice-code. Those doors were locked magically, and Alohomora is an
opening spell, a magic spell. The reason you could use it is because you are a witch. A very powerful witch.”
I gasped. “A witch? Me, a witch? I always believed there was no such thing as a witch, it was just a
Halloween fantasy.” I thought for a moment, then it hit me. “Patton, Patton, what are you going to do when
you learn your fiancée is a witch?”
“Among my people, it is a proud thing to be a witch, your Patton should be proud of you. But we really have
to get going.” He took my hand and we started up the stairs.
Jamseth seemed to have no trouble with the long climb, and I discovered a deep breath every once in a while
kept me going. I remembered going for a walk with Patton, how he always got totally winded, how he would
drop to his knees and pray for strength, and how I had always managed to avoid seeing that a long prayer
was more an opportunity for catching one’s breath than a religious observance.
When we got to the top of the stairs I went over to the cabinet with the gray outfits and pulled one out.
Jamseth faced away while I put it on. “Thanks,” I said. “That’s the first time I’ve felt really dressed since I got
here.”
Before we could do anything else, the door slammed open and a horde of the gray-clad servants burst in on
us. Jamseth aimed his wand and yelled, “Disgolem!” Bolts of lightning flew from the wand and the servants
burst into clouds of dust, the empty uniforms and collars dropping to the floor. I was horrified to see Alpha
and Gamma disintegrated with the rest. When the influx finally ceased Jamseth said, “Portalis Dispellium!” The
door slammed shut, then faded until there was nothing but a bare wall. He turned, saw my face, and asked,
“What’s the matter?”
“Two of those were my servants, I saw the names on their uniforms, they were so proud of having names. I
guess, in spite of everything, I got a little attached to them.”
“Oh. Ginger, they are—were—not human. They are constructs, golems, magical robots. Each set of four is
identical to every other set, surely you noticed that?”
“I noticed, but I didn’t understand what it meant. I’m new to all of this witch and magic stuff. When do I get to
ride a broomstick?”
“A broomstick? Never, that’s just a fantasy. But you will learn other skills, and quickly. Now, we need to go.”
He led me back to the stairwell and muttered a few words. The stairwell vanished and was replaced by a
tunnel.
We entered and found ourselves in another maze, but again the path to follow was obvious. “Is this ability to
get through the maze another of the witch powers you are talking about?”
“Yes, and also your resistance to the zombie spell. Your powers are developing rapidly.” He paused. “I feel
some conflict in you, some problem with being a witch and being engaged to this Patton. I don’t want to pry,
but would it help to talk about it?”
“I don’t know...” I started, and then suddenly realized I could sense an undercurrent to his words—he was
attracted to me and wanted to find out if he had any chance! I wasn’t sure what to say, but before I could
decide there was a noise behind us.
Jamseth grabbed my arm and said, “Run, Ginger! They’re after us.” He gave me a shove forward, paused to
cast another Disgolem spell back at the pursuers, and joined me in running as fast as we could through the
twisting tunnels. Once again an occasional deep breath kept me from getting tired or winded, apparently
another witch power.
Finally the tunnel straightened out and I thought I could see an opening a long way ahead of us. Then there
was a noise behind us. I looked over my shoulder and saw another horde of the servants, this time with the
Mage in their center. Before I could say anything, a blast of light issued from the Mage’s wand and hit
Jamseth. He fell to the floor, stunned, and dropped his wand.
Somehow, I knew what I had to do. I grabbed Jamseth’s wand, aimed it at our attackers, and hollered
“Disgolem!” This time the lightning from the wand actually blew up the servants instead of just turning them
to dust, and the explosion knocked the Mage off his feet and landed him on his butt. Another phrase popped
into my mind; I waved the wand again, yelled “Tectum deleo!” and the roof fell in. With the tunnel effectively
blocked, at least for a while, I helped Jamseth to his feet and started walking him toward the exit.
As soon as he could talk, Jamseth asked me, “Ginger, where in the world did you learn that last spell?”
“I don’t know, it just came to me and I used it. Why?”
“That was an extremely advanced bit of magic. Very few witches could make that work, but you...” He put out
his hand, and I gave him back his wand. “Thanks. But we better move, before the Mage manages to get
through that rockslide you caused.”
As we approached the opening, we put on a burst of speed and tumbled out of the tunnel onto grass. I
looked back and saw the mouth of the tunnel hanging in the air between two large trees. Then, as Jamseth
yelled, “Portalis Dispellium!” it disappeared.
I looked around and realized we were in Memorial Park, not far from my apartment. No wonder the view from
the window of my room had looked familiar. Jamseth took my arm and sat me down on a nearby bench. “You
were starting to tell me about your fiancé Patton, and what your being a witch will mean.”
“Before we get into that, Jamseth, I need to ask you something. I think I sensed your thoughts, underneath
your words, and you were feeling attracted to me. You really want to find out about Patton to see if you have
any chance with me, right?”
Jamseth looked stunned. “Ginger, you are developing your powers at an incredible rate. I would not have
expected you to reach this level for months or years. But yes, you read me correctly. I must act honorably, if I
can help you with Patton I will. Or, should you choose otherwise than Patton, I would be delighted if you
might consider me.”
“Jamseth, my problem is simple. I’ve just found out I’m a witch, and how many times have I heard Patton use
that line from the Bible, ‘thou shalt not suffer a witch to live?’ If I tell him, how is he going to accept it? And if I
try to keep it hidden, how can that work?”
“Why would your fiancé be quoting things like that from the Bible?”
“The Reverend Patton Button, of the TV Evangelism Crusade. You must have heard of him, he’s famous. He is
my fiancé, and I have given my word to marry him.” I looked down at the diamond ring on my finger. “Oh my
God, what am I going to do? I’m a witch!” I was now sobbing.
Jamseth put an arm around me and held me. “Ginger, I have heard of him, and I know what I would do in
such a situation. But I don’t know what you should do, you have to decide that yourself. Among my people, it
is said that it is a proud thing to be a witch. I will help, but you must choose.”
“A proud thing to be a witch,” I looked at him as I repeated his words through my tears. “Jamseth, I have to
think long and carefully on this.” I thought of how Jamseth and I had fought our way out of the Mage’s
palace, and I forced myself to admit that had it been Patton with me I would still be a prisoner. I thought of
why I was engaged to Patton, and for the life of me I was no longer sure. By now I was no longer crying, and
I knew that deep down inside I had made my decision. Forgive me, Patton, I have no choice. I am a witch,
and it is a proud thing to be a witch.
I removed Patton’s ring from my finger.
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