Jack Vance - Green Magic

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Green Magic

by Jack Vance

Howard Fair, looking over the relics of his great-uncle Gerald McIntyre, found a large ledger entitled:

WORKBOOK & JOURNAL

Open at Peril!

Fair read the journal with interest, although his own work went far beyond ideas treated only gingerly by

Gerald McIntyre.

"The existence of disciplines concentric to the elementary magics must now be admitted without further

controversy," wrote McIntyre. "Guided by a set of analogies from the white and black magics (to be

detailed in due course), I have delineated the basic extension of purple magic, as well as its corollary,

Dynamic Nomism."

Fair read on, remarking the careful charts, the projections and expansions, the transpolations and

transformations by which Gerald McIntyre had conceived his systemology. So swiftly had the technical

arts advanced that McIntyre's expositions, highly controversial sixty years before, now seemed pedantic

and overly rigorous.

"Whereas benign creatures: angels, white sprites, merrihews, sandestins--are typical of the white cycle;

whereas demons, magners, trolls and warlocks are evinced by black magic; so do the purple and green

cycles sponsor their own particulars, but these are neither good nor evil, bearing, rather, the same

relation to the black and white provinces that these latter do to our own basic realm."

Fair reread the passage. The "green cycle"? Had Gerald McIntyre wandered into regions overlooked by

modern workers?

He reviewed the journal in the light of this suspicion, and discovered additional hints and references.

Especially provocative was a bit of scribbled marginalia: "More concerning my latest researches I may

not state, having been promised an infinite reward for this forbearance."

The passage was dated a day before Gerald McIntyre's death, which had occurred on March 21, 1898,

the first day of spring. McIntyre had enjoyed very little of his "infinite reward," whatever had been its

nature... Fair returned to a consideration of the journal, which, in a sentence or two, had opened a chink

on an entire new panorama. McIntyre provided no further illumination, and Fair set out to make a fuller

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Green Magic

investigation.

His first steps were routine. He performed two divinations, searched the standard indexes, concordances,

handbooks and formularies, evoked a demon whom he had previously found knowledgeable: all without

success. He found no direct reference to cycles beyond the purple; the demon refused even to speculate.

Fair was by no means discouraged; if anything, the intensity of his interest increased. He reread the

journal, with particular care to the justification for purple magic, reasoning that McIntyre, groping for a

lore beyond the purple, might well have used the methods which had yielded results before. Applying

stains and ultraviolet light to the pages, Fair made legible a number of notes McIntyre had jotted down,

then erased.

Fair was immensely stimulated. The notes assured him that he was on the right track, and further

indicated a number of blind alleys which Fair profited by avoiding. He applied himself so successfully

that before the week was out he had evoked a sprite of the green cycle.

It appeared in the semblance of a man with green glass eyes and a thatch of young eucalyptus leaves in

the place of hair. It greeted Fair with cool courtesy, would not seat itself, and ignored Fair's proffer of

coffee.

After wandering around the apartment inspecting Fair's books and curios with an air of negligent

amusement, it agreed to respond to Fair's questions.

Fair asked permission to use his tape-recorder, which the sprite allowed, and Fair set the apparatus in

motion. (When subsequently he replayed the interview, no sound could be heard.)

"What realms of magic lie beyond the green?" asked Fair.

"I can't give you an exact answer," replied the sprite, "because I don't know. There are at least two more,

corresponding to the colors we call rawn and pallow, and very likely others."

Fair arranged the microphone where it would more directly intercept the voice of the sprite.

"What," he asked, "is the green cycle like? What is its physical semblance?"

The sprite paused to consider. Glistening mother-of-pearl films wandered across its face, reflecting the

tinge of its thoughts. "I'm rather severely restricted by your use of the word 'physical'. And 'semblance'

involves a subjective interpretation, which changes with the rise and fall of the seconds."

"By all means," Fair said hastily, "describe it in your own words."

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Green Magic

"Well, we have four different regions, two of which floresce from the basic skeleton of the universe, and

so subsede the others. The first of these is compressed and isthiated, but is notable for its wide pools of

mottle which we use sometimes for deranging stations. We've transplanted club-mosses from Earth's

Devonian and a few ice-fires from Perdition. They climb among the rods which we call devil-hair--" he

went on for several minutes but the meaning almost entirely escaped Fair. And it seemed as if the

question by which he had hoped to break the ice might run away with the entire interview. He

introduced another idea.

" 'Can we freely manipulate the physical extensions of Earth?' " The sprite seemed amused. "You refer,

so I assume, to the various aspects of space, time, mass, energy, life, thought and recollection."

"Exactly."

The sprite raised its green corn-silk eyebrows. "I might as sensibly ask: can you break an egg by striking

it with a club? The response is on a similar level of seriousness."

Fair had expected a certain amount of condescension and impatience, and was not abashed. "How may I

learn these techniques?"

"In the usual manner: through diligent study."

"Ah, indeed--but where could I study? Who would teach me?"

The sprite made an easy gesture, and whorls of green smoke trailed from his fingers to spin through the

air. "I could arrange the matter, but since I bear you no particular animosity, I'll do nothing of the sort.

And now, I must be gone."

"Where do you go?" Fair asked in wonder and longing. "May I go with you?"

The sprite, swirling a drape of bright green dust over its shoulders, shook his head. "You would be less

than comfortable."

"Other men have explored the worlds of magic!"

"True: your uncle Gerald McIntyre, for instance."

"My uncle Gerald learned green magic?"

"To the limit of his capabilities. He found no pleasure in his learning. You would do well to profit by his

experience and modify your ambitions." The sprite turned and walked away.

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Green Magic

Fair watched it depart. The sprite receded in space and dimension, but never reached the wall of Fair's

room. At a distance which might have been fifty yards, the sprite glanced back, as if to make sure that

Fair was not following, then stepped off at another angle and disappeared.

Fair's first impulse was to take heed and limit his explorations. He was an adept in white magic, and had

mastered the black art--occasionally he evoked a demon to liven a social gathering which otherwise

threatened to become dull--but he had by no means illuminated every mystery of purple magic, which is

the realm of Incarnate Symbols.

Howard Fair might have turned away from the green cycle except for three factors.

First was his physical appearance. He stood rather under medium height, with a swarthy face, sparse

black hair, a gnarled nose, a small heavy mouth. He felt no great sensitivity about his appearance, but

realized that it might be improved. In his mind's eye he pictured the personified ideal of himself: he was

taller by six inches, his nose thin and keen, his skin cleared of its muddy undertone. A striking figure,

but still recognizable as Howard Fair. He wanted the love of women, but he wanted it without the

interposition of his craft. Many times he had brought beautiful girls to his bed, lips wet and eyes shining;

but purple magic had seduced them rather than Howard Fair, and he took limited satisfaction in such

conquests.

Here was the first factor which drew Howard Fair back to the green lore; the second was his yearning for

extended, perhaps eternal, life; the third was simple thirst for knowledge.

The fact of Gerald McIntyre's death, or dissolution, or Disappearance--whatever had happened to him--

was naturally a matter of concern. If he had won to a goal so precious, why had he died so quickly? Was

the "infinite reward" so miraculous, so exquisite, that the mind failed under its possession? (If such was

the case, the reward was hardly a reward.)

Fair could not restrain himself, and by degrees returned to a study of green magic. Rather than again

invoke the sprite whose air of indulgent contempt he had found exasperating, he decided to seek

knowledge by an indirect method, employing the most advanced concepts of technical and cabalistic

science.

He obtained a portable television transmitter which he loaded into his panel truck along with a receiver.

On a Monday night in early May, he drove to an abandoned graveyard far out in the wooded hills, and

there, by the light of a waning moon, he buried the television camera in graveyard clay until only the

lens protruded from the soil.

With a sharp alder twig he scratched on the ground a monstrous outline. The television lens served for

one eye, a beer bottle pushed neck-first into the soil the other.

During the middle hours, while the moon died behind wisps of pale cloud, he carved a word on the dark

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GreenMagicGreenMagicbyJackVanceHowardFair,lookingovertherelicsofhisgreat-uncleGeraldMcIntyre,founda...

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Jack Vance - Green Magic

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