In silence they went up the lift to the eighth floor, the attic storey. Denis's gaze was fixed on the old man. He was bald with some strands of white hair combed over the top of his skull. He wore thick, round glasses. His fingernails, Denis couldn't help noticing, were yellowish, long and broken. They reminded him of the claws of a bird of prey. When the old man grinned he revealed teeth that were, predictably, yellow with noticeable gaps between them.
They were greeted at the entrance to the flat by a metallic barking. It sounded as if a dog was at the end of a tin horn. Behind the door they discovered a mechanical dog, barking and rearing on its hind legs to paw its master. "Magical automatons are something of a hobby of mine," the magician explained.
The inside of the old man's apartment was mostly one continuous space. A small portion of the flat was allotted to a kitchen and a dining area with a rickety old table and two unmatched chairs. All the rest was devoted to the old magician's study area and workroom. The high walls were lined with books. The shelves were so high as to require a wheeled ladder such as bookstores used. Drawings and manuscripts were pinned, askew, to the walls. The space was cluttered with machines, tall as a man, like free-standing metal sculptures. Bits of machinery lay strewn on the floor, along with tools, as if the magician had been interrupted in his work. It was like living inside an enormous, broken clock.
Mrs. Macready was reminded of Prof. Dee's office at Gladhearts. It was like a museum of the history of magic, crammed as it was with mysterious magical devices on antique brass pedestals. The walls were covered with books. Where there were openings, framed diagrams had been hung. Particularly rare or beautiful books lay on tables beneath glass covers. When she saw Prof. Dee's office as a child she felt that every worthwhile bit of knowledge in the world, at least everything wonderful, must be in his library and indexed in his filing cabinet. To this day, Dee's office was a picture of magical endeavor to her, an image of the beauty and clarity, and endless possibility, of rational thought revealing the universe.
"I must introduce myself. My name is Ludovico Bruno. Perhaps you have heard of me?"
"I believe I've heard the name. Some agents have been investigating your case." This was a considerable understatement on Mrs. Macready's part. Ludovico's file at the Bureau took up a cabinet. He had long been known as a heretical thinker, writer and researcher.
"They have been investigating me most of my life." He threw his hand up in a gesture suggesting it did not trouble him. "I keep the officials of the Ministry employed, do I not? They can make a life-long study of my activities." He chortled. "But you haven't heard my name from anyone else, eh? Never mind. Call me simply Ludovico. I will explain how I know of you. Please, sit." He pointed to a set of massive, well stuffed armchairs around a low table. Their upholstery was worn and faded.
Ludovico continued. "I invited you in because I know your name, Mrs. Macready. I remembered you were the student of my friend, Professor Erasmus Dee. Erasmus and I worked together in our research activities before his time teaching at Gladhearts Academy. "But there is some intelligence that we might profitably exchange with one another tonight. I assume that you followed me from the Underground station. I further assume that it was not a coincidence that you were there. Let me explain how I came to be at that station and I hope you will tell your side of the story."
Ludovico walked from his sitting area over into the midst of his machines. With a dramatic flourish he flung off a white cloth to reveal a curious contraption. It was a table with brass legs, a black surface of polished stone, and a brass arm that sprang out of the side of the table and arched over the center of the tabletop. At the end of the arm hung a pendulum bob on a thin wire. At the four corners of the tabletop were metallic gargoyles. Cast from a dark gray metal, the gargoyles had the appearance of shrunken and preserved old men. The tabletop and the arm were enclosed in a glass dome.
"They're ghastly," Denis whispered to Mrs. Macready, meaning the gargoyles.
"We refuse to work if we're going to be insulted," muttered one of the gargoyles in a harsh voice. Ludovico shushed him.
To Denis Ludovico said, "Forgive an old man his idiosyncrasies. I don't suppose my choice of decoration will appeal to everyone. I have a weakness for the Gothic era of art." Mrs. Macready took this to mean that the gargoyles and the other decorations in brass were not essential to the working of the machine. "I have long been working on the problem of other dimensions. I wish tonight to reveal the fruit of my long labors. This is the device I call the Distant Listener, or Listener for short. It was constructed to detect magical resonances from other worlds. In its essentials it is very simple. The Listener converts magical resonances into forces on the pendulum. The pendulum traces a pattern which we can study at leisure. The purpose of the glass dome is to block out all magical influences from our world. Allow me to demonstrate."
Ludovico carefully lifted the glass cover from the Listener and set it aside. Immediately the pendulum began to vibrate as if its wire was being shaken. Its motion was agitated but seemingly random. Ludovico lifted his wand. Its tip lit up in a simple illumination spell. The pendulum reacted by swinging smoothly back and forth across the tabletop. Everyone could see that it was describing a pattern. Its motions were visible on the table as a thin, glowing blue line. One of the marks around the edge of the table also glowed, pointing in the direction of Ludovico's wand. Finally, the gargoyles became animated, putting on a sort of mime performance indicating their interest in the pendulum's patterns.
Ludovico put away his wand. "Of course the Listener is isolated from mere mechanical disturbances: the settling of floorboards; a windstorm outside; a man sneezing in the next room. The great difficulty was in devising a detector sensitive enough to detect signals from other worlds but insulating it from all the magical noise of our own world. You cannot imagine the years of effort it took to find the right charms for the dome. At one time I was contemplating building the Listener in a railway tunnel under a mountain, or in a mine shaft!
"The Listener was completed many months ago. I have been recording its results ever since. They are disappointing. To a blunter critic they are worthless. The pendulum has moved, but so slightly, so briefly, that I cannot conclude they were not errors. The disturbances of the pendulum have been erratic and never repeated. They led nowhere.
"All that has changed! In the last two weeks there have been bursts of activity of such magnitude that they are proof not only of magic emanating from other worlds but of actual breaches in the barriers between worlds."
Ludovico continued. "These breaches are not natural phenomena. There are tell-tale signs of magical force being used to create these openings." Ludovico reached into his waistcoat and pulled out his golden compass. "This artifact which looks like a gold watch is in fact the newest version of my Listener. It is a small portable version, not nearly as accurate or sensitive as the tabletop one but useful for on-site investigation. This very night I used it to confirm to my satisfaction the existence of a gateway between worlds. I was alerted when another manifestation occurred tonight which the Listener detected. Fortunately, I was prepared to follow it to its source. Alas, I arrived to find the gateway already closed."
Denis leaned over to Mrs. Macready. "This sounds like where we came into the story."
"That's quite remarkable, Ludovico. I guess it's only fair that I tell you what I know of events at the Underground station." She proceeded to relate the events of the evening.
When she had spoken Ludovico paced excitedly back and forth. "These wolves, you say, came through the wall white with snow?"
"So I was told."
"They come from a world which has winter when we have spring. At least what passes for spring in Britain," Ludovico mused. The old wizard lapsed into a long, thoughtful silence. He can launch into a bout of theorizing at a moment's notice, Mrs. Macready thought, with a mix of admiration and amusement.
Finally, Ludovico resumed. "I hope that you will not mind an old man telling a long-winded story. I want to explain my interest in other worlds. This also concerns your old teacher Prof. Dee."
