Microsorce

The attack began while Sorcerer Drak and his personal staff stood around the crystal ball in his office. Chief Analyst Flong was explaining that the image of a bull devouring a bear meant their stock was about to go up. Suddenly, the bull and bear disappeared, replaced by large red letters: “You are under attack. Duck to avoid incoming darts.”

Drak hadn’t earned his position as CEO of Microsorce, Inc., without fast reactions. He ducked. His personal staff–Flong, Argyle, Jan and Craig–did not.

The cloud of darts flew by. With strangling sounds, all four of the staffers fell to the ground. Several darts hit the crystal ball, knocking it off its stand. It rolled across the table and fell to the floor.  A large crack appeared on its surface.  Other darts dug into the souvenir witch’s broom on the wall behind Drak’s desk, and into an engraving of a dragon.

Drak rose to a half crouch, looking for the source of the darts. A man holding a wand leaned out of a horizontal slit in mid-air from across the room. His head and upper body floated in mid-air as the rest of him disappeared into the spatial gate. He was completely bald, wearing a bright red robe, with dark, riveting eyes that locked onto Drak’s eyes. His face was horribly disfigured by crisscrossing scars.

Drak found the situation perplexing. Microsorce was protected by the best computer defenses in the world. And yet, here was this intruder, in his personal office on the top–100th–floor of Microsorce. Only the now ruined crystal ball had given warning, but just barely.

“Computer, defend!” Drak called. But nothing happened. The computer should have deactivated sorcery by anyone not of Microsorce. The sorceware was flawless–something was wrong.

He hadn’t bothered going through the daily defense enchantment to activate his personal defenses since he worked and lived inside “Fortress Microsorce.” And so he was defenseless until he had time to do the enchantment. Worse, he realized that his wand was on his desk behind him, tantalizingly just out of reach.

The intruder grinned with crooked teeth. “You look well. I’m glad to see that.” He looked about. “Your office–it’s even bigger than I remembered! Very nice. I like it.” The man applauded mockingly, clapping his wand slowly into his other hand. “Don’t you recognize me?”

Drak couldn’t quite place the accent–Australian? There was something vaguely familiar about the man. “Never seen you before in my life,” he said. As he spoke, his right hand, hidden by his body, inched backward to his wand.

The man grinned even wider. “Think back eighteen years–when you first started out. Remember your first sorceware? The sorcery that launched Microsorce?”

The blood drained from his face as Drak remembered. “Loz!“  The man was one of Microsorce’s first sorcerers. It had been many years–and a head full of hair–since Drak had last seen him. The horrible scars were also new; Drak could only imagine where they came from. He had hoped never to see this man again.

“Now you recognize me. Yes, I’ve had a little battle seasoning since you last saw me.” He grinned, which came out more as a grimace, making the scars stand out even more.

“I wanted you to know who killed you.” As Loz spoke, Drak’s hand felt what must be his wand. “And now. . . .” Loz raised his wand and pointed it at Drak. Drak grabbed for his wand and came up in full offensive mode.

Loz laughed as Drak stood there, holding the remote for his office TV.

“I believe the wand you are looking for is over there.” Loz gestured with his wand. Drak’s wand had been knocked off the table and lay on the floor, partly impaled by a dart. “What a picture you are. How the mighty have fallen!” He laughed. He laughed through his nose and sounded like he had a monster case of the sniffles.

“I didn’t expect it to be this easy,” Loz continued. “I have a backup plan–a very expensive one–but that won’t be necessary now.” His voice rose in pitch and loudness. “Who would believe the great Drak could be defeated in minutes!” Loz suddenly feinted with his wand, and Drak started to duck. But Loz only laughed again.

“And now,” Loz said, “let me introduce you to my good buddy, Flong. May he rise from the dead!”

The lifeless body of Flong was suddenly no longer lifeless as Flong got up, pulling darts out of his neck, shoulders and purple coveralls, and wiping away blood from his aging and balding head with a handkerchief. He grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, chief.”

So Flong had given Loz the computer codes.

“Tomorrow, everyone will read about the hostile takeover of Microsorce, and the world will go on,” Loz said. “But you, like your wandslingers downstairs, will not. This is business–but it’s also personal. My face will be the last thing you see. And now, you die.” He grinned and pointed his wand at Drak, and a horde of darts shot toward him. Drak started to duck, but knew there were too many.

In a whirlwind of motion, another of the bodies jumped off the floor. With impossible speed, the body leaped in front of the darts, taking them all in the face and chest. The whirlwind body–Argyle, Drak’s chief of staff–went for Loz. With superhuman speed, Argyle reached him and connected with a punch to the face.

But the punch went right through the Loz, and his image only flickered for a second. It was a phantom image, as Drak already knew. Loz grinned out of the spatial gate as Argyle threw several more punches at the empty air.

During the distraction, Drak grabbed his wand, with the dart still stuck in it.  Loz shrieked as a bolt of force hit him. Drak knew how to battle phantoms, and started to throw another bolt. There was a small burst of light and the spatial gate disappeared. As it did so, so did all the darts in the office–phantom darts, which had served their deadly purpose.

Flong made a break for the door, but Argyle easily caught him. Drak took the time to bring up his personal defenses. He wouldn’t be caught like that again. He brushed his fingers through his long hair, already white at fifty-eight, then collapsed his gangling form onto his chair behind his desk. His leathery face cascaded with wrinkles, both from the stress of running the largest corporation in the world and, he suspected, from an unknown magical mishap from a past battle.

“Good work, Arg,” Drak said, examining his wand to make sure the phantom dart hadn’t damaged it. The short and stocky Argyle had small punctures all over his tanned face and chest–but instead of blood, white fluid leaked out. No one else knew that his chief of staff, a well-known sorcerer and wandslinger with an infamous shock of unruly blond hair, was an android. If others did, there would have been major protests. Prejudice against androids was alive and well. But now, his choice to reward the best and most trusted person he knew–even if his insides were half plastic–in the position that required the most trust had paid off.

Flong’s mouth was agape. Drak wasn’t sure if he was more shocked at the sudden turn of events, or at the discovery that his colleague Argyle was an android. Or that the powerful android now held him in a headlock.

Drak looked down on the bodies of the tall Jan and the short and stocky Craig. He half expected them to get up, as Flong and Argyle had. But he knew it was not to be. He could sense the presence of death, but squatted down and checked each for a pulse, just in case. There was none. They’d been with him since the start, and had met at Microsorce. The two had worked by day, dated by night, and had soon married. Drak had been best man. Their kids were ages three and five.

Flong had a lot to answer for.

Loz had hinted that the wandslingers downstairs were dead. Drak pushed the button on his phone for the wandslinger room, but nobody answered.

 “Sorry I couldn’t act sooner, chief,” the android said. “I had to wait and see what the situation was.” Then he looked at Flong, still in his headlock. “What’ll we do with him, chief?”

“What do you recommend?” Drak asked. He found Flong’s betrayal hard to believe. He’d hired Flong many years before and had always trusted the man, the best analyst in the world. Fortunately, an analyst can only interpret a crystal ball; he can’t stop it from giving warnings.

“A little pain might loosen his tongue, chief. I think he has a story to tell.” The android dug his fist into Flong’s flabby belly. As he slowly pushed in, Flong gasped.

“That’s not necessary.” Drak raised his wand. “I’m sure I can get anything out of him we need.”

“But I’d rather do it this way.” The android pushed harder. Despite Argyle’s humble beginnings as a servant android, Drak believed his rather creative sorcery had made the android more human than most humans.

“Okay, okay, stop it! I’ll talk!” Flong croaked, barely able to breathe with the android’s fist painfully pushing into his stomach.

And so the story poured out. Loz had contacted him, and the money he offered was just too much to turn down. He’d given Loz the computer codes, and Loz had given him the antidote and told him when to take it.

After hearing the story, Drak waved his wand and tied Flong up with lines of force. He then reactivated the computer. With all the complicated Microsorce spells to enact, it would take about ten minutes for the computer to restart, and another five minutes for the powerful computer defenses to do so.  Like the vast majority of computers in the world, it was run by sorceware created by the sorcerers at Microsorce.

Drak was sure it was outsourced sorceware that had allowed Loz’s attack. Even with the proper codes, the defenses shouldn’t have gone down so easily. Heads were going to roll and he was going to do the bowling.

While the computer restarted, Argyle went downstairs to check on the ten wandslingers that Microsorce kept on hand. They were normally used when negotiation failed, and Microsorce had to resort to a hostile takeover.

A few minutes later, he returned. Loz had paid them a visit as well. The scene he described was horrible. All ten wandslingers, some of the best in the business, were dead from phantom darts.

There went the last of Microsorce’s defenses–other than wandslingers Drak and Argyle–until the computer defenses were back up. But there was still more bad news.

“I am sorry, Drak,” the newly-activated computer said in its slow, correct way. “I was not able to help you. I heard your calls for help, but my defenses and audio systems had been deactivated. Macropods are marsupials belonging to the family Macropodidae, which includes kangaroos, wallabies, pademelons and quokka, all native to Australia.”

Drak and Argyle looked up sharply. “What did you say?”

“I said I was not able to help you. I heard-”

“No, about kangaroos and Australia!” Drak exclaimed.

“I gave basic info on Macropods,” the computer said. “But I see the problem. This had nothing to do with the context of the conversation. There has been some damage to my logic programming. Australia is the sixth largest country in the world.”

“Great. Just what we need, a computer spouting about Australia,” Drak said. “Any other problems with your programming?”

“I am afraid that there is another problem,” the computer said. “While our defenses will be up in about a minute, my sorceware has been compromised. Our defenses can be closed down again. Australia’s neighboring countries include Indonesia, East Timor and Papua New Guinea.”

“How do you mean?” Argyle ignored the Australian info.

“There is new sorceware planted inside me that leaves me open to attack. Australia has . . . there, I fixed the Australian problem.”

“Thank god!” Argyle said.

“They cannot control me, or deactivate my audio system again, but they can send in a sorce signal that will activate the planted sorceware. This will turn off our defenses and keep them off.

“The sorceware they installed in me is quite ingenious and cannot be removed directly. The only way to fix this is to completely resorce me. It will take your best sorceware programmer two days to do so.”

“It’s true,” Flong said. “There’s no way to defend against him–you really should give up and maybe he’ll let you live. He’ll attack again, and you heard the computer–you can’t win. Why not–” but Flong went silent as Drak waved his wand at him. Flong fell over, sound asleep for at least a day, Drak figured.

“It wouldn’t take me two days to resorce the computer,” Argyle said. “I can do it in one.”

“But with no computer defenses, and you and I the only wandslingers, Microsorce would be nearly defenseless,” Drak said. “We don’t even have a working crystal ball.”

Argyle looked at Drak curiously. “Who was that? You two seemed to have been acquainted.”

Long forgotten memories of Loz now flooded Drak. “He was the most talented sorce programmer I ever knew. I recruited him from Australia. He was a real hot-shot, responsible for some of the most creative sorcery in the Microsorce code.” He sighed.

“And then?” Argyle prompted.

“He was careless and sloppy,” Drak continued. “Remember Microsorce 1.0, with all the bugs? That was his programming. I forgave him for that. But with all the problems with 2.0, 3.0 and 4.0, I lost patience. Creative sorcery doesn’t help if the product doesn’t work right, and we were losing ground to Applesorce. So I fired him.” Drak remembered the overly dramatic scene. “He didn’t take it too well.”

Drak remembered Loz’s last words from so long ago, shouted at him from the doorway as the enraged Loz was escorted out by two wandslingers holding his arms. “Someday I’ll be back to make hell for you!”

“He will attack again,” Drak said. “But I don’t think he’ll try the same attack–that type of sorcery is very difficult and it’ll take him days to prepare it again. I think it’ll be a more direct attack.”

Argyle bit his lower lip, a human trait he’d learned to do when deep in thought. “You could organize the sorceware programmers to defend Microsorce.”

Drak shook his head. “They aren’t wandslingers. They are programmers who spend their days chanting at computer screens. You and I are the only ones who can fight–and I’m guessing we’ll be way outnumbered.”

“We can’t just give up!” Argyle said.

Drak held his head in his hands, deep in thought. “Listen closely. This is what we’re going to do. It’s risky, but it’s our only chance.”

#

“Hey, it looks like you’ve had a slight tussle!” one of Loz’s wandslingers exclaimed at the new additions to Loz’s face.

Loz rubbed at his head. The burning wouldn’t stop–it was more than a simple burn from Drak, and Loz would have to get a sorcerdoc to treat it. Loz swore vengeance, something he did a number of times each day.

He licked his lips as he thought of what was about to happen. He’d been caught off guard by what must have been an android. Such speed! He had let it distract him. He was too good to fall for such things. When he took over Microsorce, his first act–after killing Drak and Argyle–would be to kill Flong as painfully as possible for failing to alert him about this. Imagine! An android chief of staff.

He and his twenty wandslingers, half men, half women, were gathered in a coffee shop several blocks from Microsorce. Loz had done his initial dart attack from a booth there.

The wandslingers were a varied lot. There were nine from Brazil, dressed in green, yellow and blue, led by the efficient Rantonio. There were six from Poland, dressed in red and white, led by the flamboyant Brolak. And there were five from China, dressed in red and yellow, led by the beautiful Jia. All had wands at their waists, ready to draw at an instant’s notice.

Loz called together the leaders. “Let’s consider the tactical situation,” he said.

“It’s simple,” Rantonio said. “We have the planted sorceware to take down their defenses, inside info on Microsorce’s defenses, and twenty-one wandslingers, including you.” Loz had paid for the wandslingers by the fruits of computer crime and the compounded interest of his severance pay from Microsorce. Ironic, he thought.

Rantonio continued. “They have only two wandslingers, a tainted computer and a 100-story building staffed by overweight sorceware programmers who spend more time eating Bon-Bons than fighting with wands.” He chuckled at his joke.

Loz also smiled. The overweight programmers–sheep to be herded as assets–would soon be his property. He had been the greatest of sorceware programmers; now, after years of training, he would be the greatest wandslinger. And then he would be the greatest of CEOs, running Microsorce, the greatest and richest company in the world.

Killing Microsorce’s ten wandslingers had been too easy. The Microsorce people were getting soft. He smiled, thinking about the bit of additional sorceware he’d stuck in the computer, the Australian joke.

“It’d take another few days to set up another spatial gate,” Loz said. “By then, their defenses will be back up. So, we go to Plan B: the frontal attack of Microsorce.” He fingered his wand at the thought of it. It would be a glorious victory.

#

Drak didn’t have long to wait before the computer alerted him that it was under attack. “They have sent the sorce signal–their sorceware is activated. I am fighting it, but I can only do so for a few minutes.”

“Just stick to the plan,” Drak said.

“I will do so,” the computer said.

“Chief, you know your plan is crazy, right?” Argyle said. “Why not fight them like true wandslingers, and die like heroes?”

“You may be right, Arg; you may be right,” Drak said. “But dead heroes tend to be dead, and it’s hard to run a major corporation when you’re dead. You’ll have your chance at them when the time comes.”

A short time later, the computer announced, “The defenses are down.”

A few minutes later, the computer spoke again. “I see them on my outside scanners. There are twenty-one of them. They are approaching the front of the building now and should be entering in approximately fifteen seconds. They wear the colors of Brazil, Poland, and China.”

Drak knew what that meant. Rantonio, Brolak and Jia! It was worse than he thought. He knew the first two only by reputation, but he knew Jia from personal experience. He’d barely defeated the medallioned sorceress many years ago in a hostile takeover of Chinasorce–a battle that had raged all day. Against the three of them combined, he and Argyle had little chance. Throw in Loz and the other seventeen wandslingers, and it was going to be a very short fight.

“Should we have the computer execute the plan now?” Argyle asked.

Drak considered it, but decided against it. “I’d rather use the computer to spy on them for now. There’s plenty of time to do it when they’re on the way up.”

#

Loz and his wandslingers entered Microsorce uncontested, wands at the ready. With their personal defenses on, it would take great sorcery to threaten them. 

Loz wondered if Drak would try to defend the building with the sorceware programmers–which would not only be a slaughter, but would lower the company’s value if too many of the programmers were killed. Or Drak could simply take them on, two against twenty-one. Either way, Drak would lose. Loz would stay in the back, and take the lead at the end, when Drak and the android were beaten and about to die.

Jia motioned for him to come over, several medallions jingling around her neck as she did so. “They could be setting a trap,” the Chinese sorceress said. “The logical place is by the elevators.”

“It’s the only way up unless you want to walk up a hundred flights of stairs,” Loz said. “So check them out.”  Jia approached the elevator and began muttering incantations while clutching a medallion engraved with a dragon.

The Microsorce receptionist had watched the wandslingers as they entered, eyes wide. Loz had seen her reach down with her hand–he knew she was hitting the “alert” button. He didn’t care. By now, Drak knew they were coming.

The receptionist avoided staring at Loz’s hideous face. “May I help you, gentlemen?”

Loz grinned. “Yes. I’m here to kill your CEO and take over your company. Could you set up an appointment for me?”

Several of the wandslingers laughed.

Jia glared. “I don’t think you’re serious enough.”

But Brolak joined in the fun. “Madam, I’d like to apologize for the poor manners of my colleague here,” he said in his suave Polish accent. “He’s not a gentleman. Now me, I’m all man, and I’m gentle–and I’d like to pick you up for dinner tonight.”

“Sorry, not interested,” the frightened receptionist said.

“Never stopped me before,” replied Brolak, and raised his wand. Some of the Poles laughed. Jia glared silently.

“Work before play,” Rantonio said. “There’ll be plenty of time later.”

Half their wandslingers were women and all were glaring at Brolak. He lowered his wand. “We’ll finish this later.”

Loz didn’t mind the interplay. All that mattered was the end, and that meant making it to the 100th floor and taking Drak.

Loz saw the phone on the receptionist’s desk, and had a thought. “Where’s the staff phone listing?” he asked.

#

Soon after the alert had sounded from the receptionist, the phone on Drak’s desk rang.  From the blinking light on the phone, he could see it was from the lobby. He picked it up. “Hello, Loz.”

“Greetings from below,” Loz answered. “How’s Flong?”

“He’s sort of tied up at the moment.”

“I expected better puns from such a sorcerer as you. Of course, I didn’t think you’d have the heart to kill Flong. I don’t have that weakness. However, I’m impressed with how you wrecked my spatial gate before I was done with it. They’re pretty expensive to set up. I’ll send you a bill.”

“Gates are easy.” Drak said, “And I look forward to wrecking more of your toys. So . . . how’s your face?”

Loz’s face flushed as he rubbed it self-consciously.

Before he could respond, Drak said, “So, what can I do for you?”

Loz took a deep breath. “Why not save us the trouble of coming all the way up there? Just meet us in the lobby. We can have it out here. Otherwise I might have to wreck a few things on the way up.”

“That wouldn’t be nice,” Drak said. “But I think I’ll stay here. Send me that bill!”

“Then I’ll see you shortly!” Loz said. “Perhaps then we can discuss a few things I’d like to get off my chest. You know, like stealing my sorceware, taking credit for it, and using it to get rich and famous!”

Drak had done none of those things, but knew it was pointless to argue with a fanatic. “I’d like that discussion very much. While we’re at it, we can discuss your sloppy sorceware that almost let Applesorce take over the market.”

“There was nothing wrong with my sorceware!” Loz screamed over the phone. “Your other sorcerers–weak ones, stupid ones–they conspired against me; they put in the defects; they ruined me! You were part of it, and now you’ll pay for it!” Loz slammed the phone down.

#

Jia glared at Loz in the suddenly tense atmosphere.

“We have a job to do and losing your cool doesn’t help,” she said, shaking her medallions in an orchestra of disapproval.

Loz realized he’d really lost it just then. That wasn’t smart, and it wouldn’t happen again. Breathe easy, he thought, taking a slow, deep breath.

 “Listen to me,” Loz said, increasing the volume of his voice with a wave of his wand to get the wandslingers’ attention. “I did that to distract him. Now he thinks I’m raving mad, and maybe it’ll scare him and anyone else up there to give up.”

Jia glared at him; most of the rest avoided looking in his direction, although Loz thought he heard some quiet chuckling, and Brolak looked like he was about to burst out laughing. Loz’s face flushed again.

“Forget it,” he said. “Let’s take the building.” The army of wandslingers moved toward the elevators.

Jia finished checking the elevators and found no trap. She was frowning. “This is too easy,” she muttered. “Something is wrong here.” She joined the others in the two elevators.

Loz was impatient. With a wave of his wand, he set both to go to the 100th floor at breakneck speed. He also locked in the artificial gravity system so it couldn’t be turned off. He entered one of the elevators, and with another wave of his wand, the elevators started their rapid ascent.

#

“They are in the elevators, coming directly here,” said the computer. “They have locked the controls and gravity systems. They have also greatly increased the velocity of the elevator and will arrive on this floor in one minute and 26.6 seconds.”

That was unexpected and very, very bad–Drak knew that everything depended on timing, and now the timing was off. “Computer, execute Plan A.”

“Executing,” the computer said.

“We don’t have enough time,” Argyle said. “They’ll be here way too soon.”

 “It looks like you were right,” Drak said. “We should have started earlier, like you suggested, when they first entered the building. All we can do now is stall and hope.”

A moment later, there was a sound in the corridor. “So soon!” Argyle exclaimed.

#

After the rapid upward journey, the wandslingers left the elevators on the 100th floor. They quickly secured the floor, taking a number of prisoners and lining them up against the wall. Rantonio waved his wand at them, and lines of force attached them to the wall. They were company assets, not to be killed.

The twenty-one wandslingers jammed in the hallway outside Drak’s door. He was not an asset.

Loz gazed at the door and the “Drak Draylor, CEO” nameplate. He remembered happier days, glory days when he was on top of the world, when he’d go through this door a happy man to report on his latest creations. Until that last day, when he’d been summoned to see the CEO, surely to be congratulated for his brilliant work–but instead to be fired by Drak. He’d entered a happy man, and left in ruins. Now it was his turn.

Once again, he would go through this doorway a happy man. He stepped forward and knocked three times sharply.

There was no answer.

Loz nodded, and Brolak and his five wandslingers stepped forward. With a wave of his wand, Brolak broke the door down and the six charged in, wands raised.

Argyle raised his wand and took on all six. He whizzed about the room, acrobatically avoiding most of their attacks while unleashing his own.

Then Drak, sitting behind his desk, raised his wand. He had far greater powers than Argyle or any of the others. He scorched and knocked sorcerers about like bowling pins, personal defenses or not. Two sorcerers dropped, stunned, but Brolak and one other went after Drak while two others held Argyle at bay. Brolak waved his wand and the desk exploded into pieces, leaving Drak out in the open.  Drak raised his wand and the tide turned as Brolak and the three wandslingers still on their feet were slammed against the wall.

Rantonio and his eight wandslingers now entered the fray. The nine had been recruited for their ability to combine forces. They spread out, each pointing their wands at Drak, their primary target. Brolak and his five wandslingers, somewhat shaken but all of them back on their feet, were now free to focus on Argyle.

Drak slammed Rantonio’s men against the wall and each other, and they danced about like rag dolls shaking at the beckoning of Drak’s wand.

However, when Drak attacked, he was open to attack. Rantonio’s men threw lines of force about him, one by one, each one encumbering the sorcerer and slowing him down. Bolts of energy flew back and forth, weakening the wandslingers–with Drak getting the bulk of it from the nine attackers.

As the battle progressed, the end was inevitable. Loz had run every possible computer simulation and they could not lose. The simulations did not take into account Argyle’s speed, but that would only put off the inevitable. As if that weren’t enough, he’d brought in Jia and her four wandslingers as backup, just in case. He had every possibility covered.

Soon Drak and Argyle, badly weakened, were cornered, with lines of force slowing them down as bolts of energy flew about.

A flash of light came out of Drak’s wand, and the infamous Jaws of Death appeared. No other sorcerer could match this feat. They were like a dragon’s skull, but much wider, and pure black.  The jaws closed down over a wandslinger, cutting him in half. Both halves disappeared down its throat.

But creating such magic weakened Drak and left him open to attack. Even as the Jaws of Death flew about the room, Drak felt himself weaken from the unrelenting attacks from the wandslingers.

Now Jia and her four wandslingers entered. Even as it bore down upon her, Jia herself shot the bolt down the throat of the Jaws of Death that destroyed it.

The office was quickly secured as the wandslingers surrounded Argyle and Drak. They still clutched their wands, but spells kept them from using them. Other than the wandslinger that had been swallowed, Loz’s forces had not suffered a single serious casualty, although most were banged up.

Loz, who had watched from the doorway, entered the room in grand fashion. “Greetings, chief!”

“Hello Loz,” Drak said, held down by lines of force from the fourteen upheld wands of Rantonio and Jia and their wandslingers, while Brolak and his wandslingers held Argyle.

Loz put his hands on his hips. He wanted to cherish these few minutes before killing them and assuming his role as CEO as the rightful victor in this legitimate hostile takeover. Then he spied the witch’s broom on the wall, a souvenir from a famous past victory by Drak.

“I’ve always wanted to do this.” He grabbed the broom off the wall and brought it down hard on his leg. The broom broke in two. He flung the two pieces aside. As he did so, Jia gazed at the dragon engraving on the wall next to where the broom had been.

“Now Drak,” he began, “I’ve read everything that’s been written about you over the years.” He began to pace. “You’re a hero to hundreds of millions, maybe billions. You’re the best wandslinger. You make perfect sorceware, give to charity, and are just an all-around great guy.” Then, much more loudly, he said, “Or at least that’s what I’ve read.” He stopped pacing and swooped in on Drak. “But it’s all a lie!”

Loz realized he was losing it again, his face flushing. Get control, he thought. Relax. Breathe easy.

“It should be me, not you,” he continued, once again in control. “And now it’s going to be.” He began pacing back and forth again, and noticed Flong off to the side, still in a magic-induced sleep. He kicked him in the head and turned back to Drak.

 “I know what a great hero you’re supposed to be, and I know you aren’t going to accept this, but I’m going to give you a chance to live. All you have to do is get down on your knees, place your wand at my feet, and surrender.” Loz smiled. He knew Drak would fight to the death.

Drak glanced at his watch, then slowly rose to his feet–followed by fourteen wands and many lines of force, which made his movement like walking underwater.  He walked in front of Loz and dropped to his knees. Kneeling, he placed his wand at Loz’s feet. “I surrender. I surrender!”

The room went silent.

“I never would have believed this!” Loz exclaimed. The most powerful wandslinger of them all, the CEO of Microsorce, the most famous man on the planet, was surrendering to Him! The wandslingers looked on in stunned amazement.

Jia was the first to recover. “This has to be a trick!  Only a moron wouldn’t see that.”

Loz considered this. Jia was no fool. On the other hand, she tended to overreact. “Do you see any evidence of a trick? Anything we’ve overlooked?”

Jia answered with silence.

“This is even better than I thought possible.” Perhaps Loz wouldn’t kill Drak–at least not right away. He would humiliate him instead! “Computer, do you have a recording of Drak surrendering?”

“Yes,” the computer said.

“Download it onto a disk and give me the disk,” Loz said. A moment later, a small disk popped out of a slot in the wall. He stuck it in his pocket.

“Do you realize what is going to happen tomorrow?” Loz gloated over Drak, still on his knees, head bowed. “I am going to make copies and send this to every news program in the world. You will not go down in history as Drak, the great wandslinger and Microsorce boss. You will go down as a simple coward!”

Drak’s head bowed lower. “Will you promise to treat the employees of Microsorce well? They are innocent, and when you take over they’ll serve you as they served me.”

Loz shook his head. “You don’t get it, do you? You are in no position to bargain! I am in control here, and I will do as I choose. And to start with–I choose to kill that one.” He motioned at Argyle. “How can you pollute this place with–with such a thing?”

“Something is definitely wrong here.” Jia looked at Loz. “End this now, or you’ll regret it.”

Loz sighed. “OK, we’ll end this now. First I’ll kill the android and then I’ll kill Drak.”

“You said you’d let him live if he surrendered!” Argyle exclaimed.

“I lied,” Loz explained. “I was going to kill him either way, but now–with this tape–things could not have worked out better. And now–it’s time to turn you off! Brolak?”

Brolak and his wandslingers ripped into Argyle with bolts of energy. The android writhed in pain as he struggled to defend himself. He finally dropped his wand and sat helpless. The wandslingers ceased their attack and Loz moved in to end it. He raised his wand at Argyle. . . .

“Wait a minute,” Drak said. Loz hesitated.

“He’s stalling,” Jia said. “Don’t you see that? Something is not right here.” She pointed her wand at Drak.

“No. No trick,” Drak said. “Please. I have no wand and we’re both helpless. I’d just like to say goodbye to Argyle.”

Loz stared at him. “Are you for real?”

“Just for a minute?” Drak pleaded.

Loz shook his head.

Just then, the computer spoke up. “Defense systems back up. I can keep them activated for perhaps four minutes.”

The silence in the room was a thunderclap. “Computer, what do you mean?” Loz asked.

“It means the game is over.” Drak rose to his feet. The lines of force holding him and Argyle were gone. He scooped up his wand from Loz’s feet.

Jia raised her wand and thrust it at Drak. Nothing happened. Drak’s upward smile was matched by the downward look of horror on Loz’s face. Loz raised his wand and waved it at Drak–again, nothing. The other wandslingers also tried, but to no avail.

Drak raised his wand, and with a gesture, all the wands in the room–save his own and Argyle’s–crumbled to dust.

“But…how is this possible?” Loz exclaimed. “My sorceware–what happened?”

“Arg, secure everyone,” Drak said.

Argyle rose to his feet. With a wave of his wand, several shelves and cabinets slid away from the wall, leaving bare walls. “All of you, against the walls. Now!” Soon lines of force cemented all twenty to the walls.

“Loz, you had the codes and sorce signal to bring down our computer defenses and we couldn’t stop it,” Drak said. “Your sorceware would activate any time we tried to put the defenses back up, and would take them down.”

“But the defenses are back up!” Loz exclaimed. “How?”

A look of realization passed over Jia’s face. “If the computer defenses are not turned on, the sorceware doesn’t activate.”

Drak smiled. “Exactly. I ordered the computer to restart while you were on the elevator coming up–but without turning on the defenses, so your sorceware never activated during the restart.” He paused for dramatic effect as realization clouded over Loz’s face. He then continued.

“After we’d stalled and given the computer ten minutes to restart, I gave it a secret signal to turn on the defenses–and the signal was the phrase, ‘I surrender.’ Turning them on takes another five minutes, so we had five more minutes to stall. I was going to volunteer to surrender to save our employees, but Loz made it somewhat easier by asking me to surrender.”

Drak stopped for a moment and nonchalantly aimed his wand at the broken broomstick. The broomstick snapped back together and refastened itself to the wall behind the desk, as good as new. Drak continued.

“Once the defenses were up, there would only be a window of a few minutes before your sorceware would bring the defenses down again. So we had to time it just right.”

Jia was shaking her head. “You timed it so we’d be trapped up here when the defenses came back on. Brilliant. If the defenses came on too soon, then they’d also turn off too soon. If the defenses turned on too late, then you’d be helpless for too long.”

“We were lucky,” Drak confessed. “When you pulled the elevator trick, we had to stall while the computer took ten minutes to restart, and then five more minutes while it restarted the defenses after I gave it the signal.”

Drak looked over to Loz. “As to you, Loz, once again your sorcery was brilliant but sloppy.”

The computer interrupted. “The planted sorceware has been reactivated. I regret to inform you that our defenses are down again. The name Australia derives from Latin australis meaning southern.”

Drak looked up sharply. “Sorry,” the computer said. “I’ll need to be resorced. Australia has been inhabited for over 40,000 years by indigenous Australians.”

 “I’ll get to work on that now, before we hear any more Australian lectures,” Argyle said. With lightning speed, he began waving his wand as he chanted, a high-pitched, incoherent whine due to the speed.

Gritting his teeth, Loz said, “But you still surrendered.”

“Did I?” With a wave of his wand, the disk in Loz’s pocket floated out and disappeared in a cloud of dust. “Computer, erase recording of me surrendering.”

“Recording erased,” the computer said.

“If a witch burns in the forest and nobody hears her cries, did she really burn?” Drak asked.

He turned to Loz’s wandslingers and muttered a series of incantations. “You’ll find a new bit of sorce code in your personal defenses. Starting in ten minutes, if any of you comes within a hundred meters of any Microsorce building, you’ll get a rather nasty headache and have about fifteen seconds to get away before your head explodes. You’ll find this code impossible to remove. I suggest you leave.” With a wave of his wand, they were released from the wall. All but Loz and Jia quickly vacated the office and rushed for the elevators.

He turned to Flong. “We still have need of your excellent abilities. But you’ll be working in the Antarctica branch of Microsorce. For quite a long time.”

Drak had not pointed his wand at Loz or Jia. “Jia, I think this is yours?” He took down the dragon engraving behind his desk and handed it to her. It had been a souvenir from their last encounter. Jia nodded her head as she accepted it.

“Jia, we’ve battled twice now, and I’ve been thinking I’d rather have you on my side next time,” Drak said.  “I’d like you to join Microsorce. We pay well. We could use a wise but suspicious wandslinger–even if you did try to kill me–again! But you would have to swear loyalty with a sorcerer’s oath.”

After a solemn moment of thought and some absentminded medallion jingling, Jia said, “Agreed. You’ll have my oath.”

Drak turned to Loz. “What should we do with you?”

“Let me go!” Loz struggled furiously against the lines of force. The blood was rushing to his face, and his scars and burns stood out even more.

“I think I know!” Argyle said. “With a rather delicate memory wipe and some plastic sorcery…”

#

The following day, Jia reported for her first day of work as head wandslinger at Microsorce. The previous receptionist had been promoted. Jia smiled at the new one, who smiled back and said, “May I help you?” in his Australian accent.