"A demon?" Sir Guy cried. "Wizard, have you lost -- crack like a pistol shot split the night, and an infinitesimal point of light appeared, so bright he couldn't look directly at it. It hovered over the palm of his hand, and a singing hum filled the air.
"Who summons the Spirit of Perversity?"
"Wizard, you have fallen to Evil!" Sir Guy gasped, stumbling back away.
The humming voice snapped like a spark gap. "What dullards have we here? If there's not one who knows the difference between the perverse and the perverted, surely they are not worthy to be accounted among the living."
Matt felt the skin on his hands and face tingling with the need for caution. There was power here - and the spirit was possibly totally amoral. From the very name it gave itself, if Matt could not guess right, it would be completely unpredictable. "Please, spirit. It was I who summoned you - if you are indeed the one summoned."
The humming fell to a low, almost inaudible thrum. "Explain, if you have wit enough."
"I invoked the spirit who could do as Maxwell wished and violate all rules of common sense. Are you the one?"
The low thrumming continued. "You must tell me. Have I then that power granted, that I do what men deem impossible?"
"It would seem so." Matt relaxed somewhat. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sayeesa staring at the light point in fascination. He'd have to learn why, but the care of the Demon was the crucial point now. "It would be considered perverse."
The hum rose two steps in pitch, but the Demon was still being wary. "And what mean you by perversity?"
"Well... " Matt frowned. "Finagle stated it in his general law: The perversity of the universe tends toward maximum."
"Perhaps there is sense in that." The hum rose higher. "But any man can bandy words in such a fashion. Speak their meaning."
What did the spirit want, a kindergarten primer? "Well, a number of commentators have spelled out ramifications. There's Murphy's Law: If anything can go wrong, it will."
"Better, but somewhat lacking," the Demon hummed.
"Then there's Gunderson's Law: The least desirable possibility will always exert itself when the results will be most frustrating. Or, if anything can go wrong, it will - at the worst possible moment."
"There have been improvements in Adam's line since last I dealt with mortals," the Demon sang. "But speak on."
Matt eyed the light point askance. "Well, Freud wrote that living men were imbued with what he called a death-wish. And it has been said that those who most crave sainthood most often are driven toward Hell."
"Men have gained understanding. Yet be assured I have scant dealing with aught connected with the Hell-crew. They hate me, fearing I have some power over them."
Matt frowned. "How's that? Oh - because Hell seeks to defeat itself in ultimate goals. And that makes it perverted in itself, rather than perverse." He had remembered the first words of the Demon, and they should apply.
"You seem to understand. Yet I must think upon it." The spot of light snapped away from over Matt's hand.
Sayeesa followed its going with her eyes. Then she looked up at Matt. "What is this force you've loosed among us?"
"Nothing that wasn't there all along." Matt turned away, uneasy at the look on her face.
"A most learned discourse, Lord Wizard." Sir Guy was watching him doubtfully. "Still, what sense was in it? The universe cannot be perverse; it has no brain or thought."
"Aye! Speak to that, and quickly!" The Demon was back again, hovering beside Matt.
"Of course the universe can't really be perverse," Matt said, irked at having to point out the obvious. "Finagle spoke for people, from humanity's point of view. From where we stand, the universe looks perverse."
"Indeed. Why so?" the Demon demanded.
"Why?" Matt repeated testily. "Because human beings are inherently perverse. They'll project perversity into anything they look upon. The perversity's in our perceptions, not in the thing perceived - which is to say, it's in us."
"You have it!" The Demon leaped up a foot and was singing again. "Truly you understand the essense of my nature, which is to be and do what seems beyond your common sense. Your tasks I'll work gladly. Mortal, ask, and I shall do."
"No strings attached?"
"Nay, for I've sought long to find a guiding master. Without guidance, what is perversity? What would you have me do?"
Matt had heard the howls of triumph beyond the sarcens and now he looked up to see the hounds tearing at the last puma. "Then build me a Wall of Octroi between each two pillars, to join the Ring in an unseen shield."
"Your terms are strange, but your task belies common sense, and that shall I do." The spirit streaked off toward the space between the nearest pillars, paused a moment, then went on to the next.
"My apologies, Wizard," Sir Guy said. "You have not fallen. And indeed, I misjudged your scholarship, if it gave you power over yon Demon."
"Only influence," Matt corrected.
The dot of light was back. "The Wall's complete. Energies are bonded 'twixt each pair of stones, and none shall pass until you will it. What next do you wish?"
"Thanks," Matt said. "That does it for the night, I think."
"Naught more? You summoned me for so small a thing?"
If erecting three hundred feet of force-field was only a small thing to the Demon, what kind of power was Matt fooling with? He'd have banished the Demon there and then if he were sure he could. As it was, all he could do was grin and say, "Of course. Any other way would have been too much like common sense."
The Demon accepted that and retired to the far side of the Ring.
Matt mopped his brow and turned to Sir Guy. "Shall we take a look at the enemy?"
"By all means." Sir Guy clapped Matt on the shoulder, and they strolled to the nearest sarcen to observe the hellhounds.
Outside was foaming madness. The hounds ripped and clawed at the invisible barrier in their fury to get at the humans, but the Wall held them without a trace of its existence. Matt could just hear their howls of impotent fury. Strange, the sound should have come over the top of the Wall. With excitement, Matt realized that the shield curved up and over to form a dome.
The Demon, it seemed, had done a thorough job.
"They can not come in," Sir Guy observed, "but neither can we go out. What do we now?"
"Wait." Matt turned away, finding a convenient boulder to sit on. "Wait for sunrise."
Sir Guy nodded, raising his eyebrows and pursing his lips. "Fairly said. Indeed, we might sleep; 'tis the fairest chance we've had in some days."
He turned away and went over to his horse, to pull a heavy cloak from behind his saddle. He shook it out, spread it on the ground, and began to unbuckle his armor.
Matt shook his head in mute amazement. How could a man even think of sleep, with the exhilaration of this place singing through his veins?
Farther away, Sayeesa knelt beside her horse, head bowed over clasped hands, lips working silently in prayer, eyes squeezed shut. Sweat glistened on her forehead. The balanced forces in the Ring reinforced her inclinations towards good as well as her inclinations towards vice; in her case, it was a matter of which she chose to think about. So she was thinking holy thoughts, pitting prayer against vice - winning, too; even as he watched, the agony in her face was beginning to subside toward peace.