The Witches
of
Robin, Vanessa, and Nancy were the first three young women to be stigmatized with the title of ‘witches’ at Wycherley College. They had excelled in their fall semester classes, even though they had expended a lot of time and energy saving their department from extinction. The accidental visit to the campus of dowser Uriah Denzel caused the “witching controversy,” and once it started, it caught the imagination of the student body and the press. Everyone knew that the Wycherley paranormal students were weird. Denzel had simply given them the name that brought everything into perspective.
The college maintenance director, Sam Wallpaugh, had arranged for Denzel to map the sprinkler system that ran underground beneath the college grounds. Denzel had done this the old-fashioned way with a green sapling dowsing stick though his records were made on a computer laptop with an interface to the stick. Robin, particularly, watched his methods closely. She made a good suggestion about how to recognize a bend in the pipes. This surprised the dowser, who asked her whether she was a witch.
“I don’t know what you mean, Mr. Denzel. My father is a professional dowser. I watched him operate. I made my recommendation on the bends based on my experience helping him.”
The dowser appraised the red-haired, blue-eyed woman with a caustic eye. He took a pencil stub and a small slip of paper from his shirt pocket and wrote down a number. While he wrote, he shielded the paper from her sight.
“Maybe you’ll tell me the number I just wrote down.”
Robin said, “Maybe I will, and maybe I won’t. Why don’t you just forget I said anything. I’m sorry to have interrupted your dowsing.” She crossed her arms and stuck out her chin.
Vanessa and Nancy, who stood nearby, understood the stand-off as a challenge. They closed on either side of Robin to support her.
“Robin, is something wrong? Can we help?” Vanessa said, glaring at the dowser.
“I interrupted this gentleman while he was working. He called me a witch. Then he asked me to tell him the number he wrote on a small slip of paper.”
Nancy said, “There’s no mystery about the number he wrote. Why did he want you to tell him?”
“She’s a witch. To prove it, she’ll tell the number.” Denzel stuck his chest out stubbornly.
“This is ridiculous!” Vanessa said. “The number is thirty-seven.”
Nancy echoed, “That’s right, thirty-seven, or rather three and seven.”
Robin said, “Please show us the number on your paper, Mr. Denzel.”
The dowser now stepped back as the three students advanced toward him. He was pale and trembling. He threw down the paper and ran to his vehicle shouting, “They’re all witches!”
Vanessa laughed and picked up the paper, on which was clearly written the number thirty-seven. She showed it to her two friends, who laughed as well.
Not one of them was laughing the next day when Dean Astrid called them to her office to discuss the incident.
“Ladies, I asked you here because Mr. Denzel, a community tradesman, has made a formal complaint to the police about three witches on Wycherley College campus. From his descriptions, I deduced you three must have been the ones who frightened him. Tell me what happened. Robin, you go first. Then Vanessa and, finally, Nancy.”
When she had heard from all three students, the dean shook her head. “It all seems silly to me, but the reputation of this college is at stake. As there’s no easy way to step back in time to remedy the situation, we’ll just have to hope that the words of Mr. Denzel are not taken seriously. The police, at Mr. Rogers’ request, have quietly suppressed his complaint. I don’t think we’ll suffer any dire consequences. This isn’t the Sixteenth Century, after all. Still, you’ll have to be on your guard. Religious fanatics lurk in the community and on the campus too. Do yourselves and the college a favor by keeping your special talents hidden.”
“Dean Astrid, we’ll try, but we are genuinely strange. Once rumors start, they’re hard to contain.” Nancy was correct. Rumors of the three girl’s extraordinary talents were part of the college’s lore.
The dean nodded and dismissed the three with a stern warning. She returned to her busy schedule hoping the witchcraft allegations would disappear.
That afternoon, an investigative reporter from the city newspaper asked to interview Mr. Rogers, the college president, about a story she had discovered about witches at Wycherley College. The young woman’s name was Sybil Green, and she came to talk with Rogers about the signed deposition Mr. Uriah Denzel had left at the police station.
Immediately after talking with Ms. Green, the president called a meeting of the deans of the day and evening programs—Dean Astrid and Dean Medic—and Dr. Asplundh of the Department of Paranormal Studies. Invisibly, Robin attended the meeting, recording the proceedings for her fellow students.
Rogers opened the meeting by saying, “Mr. Denzel has made grave accusations against this college in a formal police statement. We thought we had suppressed the deposition, but somehow the city newspaper’s best investigative reporter got her hands on it. I fear we’re going to suffer the indignity of a story that may go into syndication or, worse, be posted on the Internet.”
Dean Astrid said, “Rumors and innuendoes have no standing. Why not simply deny the allegations?”
The president looked down at his perfectly manicured hands and said, “Ms. Green, the reporter, has connected our three ‘witches’ to the Department of Paranormal Studies. She’s having a field day spinning a tale about hidden agendas and conspiracies. From what she told me, she’s planning to win a Pulitzer Prize for uncovering a coven of witches.”
“What kind of rigor is she using in her investigation?”
“It hardly matters, Dr. Asplundh. The article will quote the dowser then segue to an analysis of our offerings in Paranormal Studies. If the story is not spiked, the Born-Again readers of the newspaper will jump on the incident as a sign of the Devil working in our institutions of higher learning, turning young minds from Jesus to all sorts of evil.”
“I don’t mean to be contrary, Mr. Rogers, but from my perspective, Wycherley College can only gain from the efforts of Ms. Green.”
“Please explain how this unfortunate allegation can help the college satisfy its objectives.”
“Surely, the story will bring the college to the attention of prospective students looking for educational alternatives. The more Ms. Green focuses on our curriculum, the better since she will invite scrutiny of our offerings by brilliant and talented recruits.”
Dean Medic said, “I agree with Dr. Asplundh. If the story brings students into the night school for even one course, we’ll have the opportunity to groom him or her as a full-time enrollee. I think we may have been lucky. No news release by the college could have raised as much awareness of the college.”
“What do you think, Dean Astrid?”
“I think we’re taking a great risk to let this story get distributed. We can’t squelch it because we’d only stoke the fires of opposition by our opposition’s becoming known. I do wish we knew the motives of the man who wrote the deposition. I still can’t understand why that happened. The encounter seemed innocent, at least to me.”
Mr. Rogers thought about the situation for a moment. Then he made a decision. “The newspaper will print the story. We’ll just have to assess the public’s reaction and do damage control if need be. Meanwhile, let’s be wary of other approaches intending to broaden the view of our students’ ‘questionable activities.’”
Dr. Asplundh was infuriated by his insinuation. “Mr. Rogers, our students are not at fault. I’m going to get to the bottom of this. Mark my words, Mr. Denzel is going to regret writing his deposition, and the newspaper is going to regret its decision to publish.”
“Tread lightly, please. I don’t want anyone exacerbating the problem.”
Dr. Asplundh clenched her teeth. “Just remember that the problem is not in our students, but in external perceptions.”
Deliberations continued, but the major points had now been made. Robin, still invisible, slipped out of the meeting room to share what she had recorded with her fellow students in the treehouse.
“Brian, you would have been proud of the way Dr. Asplundh stood up for us at the meeting.”
Brian dropped down from his perch under the rafters and nudged Todd and Hal, who were lost in their web surfing. “Todd and Hal, let’s see what we can find out about Mr. Uriah Denzel.”
“While you’re doing that, I’m going to lock onto the ace investigative reporter’s mind to gauge her current thinking,” said Vanessa.
Brian said, “Great. Meanwhile, Nancy, please catalyze a campus consensus against the intrusion of the town. This attack smacks of the worst tactics used against universities in the Middle Ages.”
Nancy went into a trance. Her psychic powers drew the strands of opinion into a richly textured consensus.
“Hey, Brian, you’re probably not going to believe what Todd and I have found about Mr. Denzel.”
“That was fast, Hal. Tell me what you’ve discovered.”
“Mr. Denzel’s website advertises his skills not only as a clairvoyant and dowser but also as an exorcist and ghostbuster. A quick review of his social media posts under the name Archer Blagrave paints a different picture entirely. As Blagrave, he’s associated with a fellowship of warlocks whose stated purpose is to worship the Devil. He’s also famous for a blog that instructs people how to recognize witches and warlocks. This Thursday evening, he’s scheduled to give a webinar on identifying witches in the community.”
“Fascinating! I’ll bet Denzel’s playing both sides against the middle. Under the pseudonym Blagrave, he picks his targets. Under his real name, he performs exorcisms for money.”
Robin said, “I wonder whether Ms. Green knows about the dowser’s double life?”
Vanessa came out of her envisioning to answer her question. “She’s oblivious about his dual identity. But she’s also a member of a witches’ coven that Blagrave has infiltrated.”
Brian smiled. “Todd, let’s make sure Ms. Sibyl Green finds what she needs to know about Denzel’s dual identity. Nancy, if you’re finished driving the consensus, would you mind attending Denzel’s webinar to capture what he’s preaching?”
Robin volunteered, “I’ll invisibly monitor the meetings of Ms. Green with her editor.”
“And I’ll enlist Dr. Sund’s help manufacturing a clone of Archer Blagrave.”
“Do you mind if I tag along? I’d like to arrange for security for our three witches. The robot students would be the best guardians.”
“Good thinking, Hal! Come with me.”
Brian and Hal had no trouble getting Dr. Sund to agree to help. From available online data about Denzel, she developed a robot Blagrave, a learner AI with biases derived from Blagrave’s website. She also tweaked the programming of the twelve robot students so they would guard Robin, Vanessa, and Nancy 24/7 on rotation. The robotic Blagrave joined Brian and Hal in the treehouse for planning.
“Starting tonight, Archer, you’re going to be totally infatuated with Sibyl Green, the newspaper reporter. You’ll also be antagonistic to Uriah Denzel, a charlatan, and you’ll attend his Thursday webinar like a stalker to debunk whatever the man says online.”
The robot Archer said, “This sounds like fun.”
“Be cautious. It’ll also be dangerous. I expect Denzel will be hostile when he’s unmasked in public. You may have to protect Ms. Green after she turns against her best witness.”
Nancy interrupted Brian. “Just so you know, a small group of students has just met at the campus Ministry Center to discuss what to do about witches on campus. They have pictures and a long list of grievances. They also have empty placards and felt-tipped pens for protest signs, as well as pine torches and turpentine. Things could get ugly soon.”
“Email Mr. Wallpaugh about the torches and turpen-tine. He’ll confiscate those as a fire violation. As for the protest signs, we should do nothing. It’s still a free country. People should be allowed to express themselves in whatever crazy ways they want.”
“I just emailed Mr. Wallpaugh, and he responded immediately. He’s on his way to the Ministry Center to confiscate the fire hazard materials. He asked how I knew about the meeting.”
“Tell him you had a hunch. Nothing more. If you can monitor the Center remotely, please do so. I’d like to know the name of the ringleader of the student group.”
“That’s easy,” Nancy said. “It’s Hugh Anderson, a freshman divinity student. He’s gorgeous, but misguided and easily led.”
“See what you can do psychically to guide him back to reason.”
“I might not be the best person for that job. What about Todd?”
“That’s a great idea. Todd, are you game?”
“I’m ready. Do you want me to join the protest group? Everyone will know I’m friends with the three witches.”
“Hmm. All the better to get inside the group and find out what they’re thinking. Also, you’re the perfect agent provocateur. You’ll tell the others what we’ve found out respecting Denzel. Once they learn that he’s got a hidden agenda, they may change their minds about supporting his allegations. Their mantra may be redirected to protest against alternative truth.”
Todd left the treehouse to sprint to the Ministry Center.
Nancy said, “Mr. Wallpaugh has confiscated the torches and turpentine. Todd has bumped into him leaving the Center. Todd is now talking excitedly with Anderson. The student protesters are waiting to be told what to do. There is no consensus about that. Now Todd is using Anderson’s laptop to show what a fraud Denzel is. Anderson has received a call on his cell phone. He’s waving his hands while looking at the screen of his laptop. He’s shouting now, but not at Todd. He’s issuing orders. His followers are furiously marking their signs: ‘No Faux News!’” Todd and Anderson are, together, leading the students to the president’s house. They are waving their signs.”
“I’d like to know who called Anderson.”
“Todd should be able to tell you that. He’ll break off once the protesters arrive at their destination and return here.”
Hal said, “I’ve just texted him. He texted back that Denzel was the caller. He catalyzed the whole demonstration. Get this—Hugh Anderson is his nephew.”
Brian said, “Curioser and curioser! Archer, it’s time for you to make a move on Sibyl Green.”
“Pardon me?”
“I’m sorry for the metaphor. Let me be plain. Call Ms. Green. Her number appears below each of her newspaper articles. Tell her you have a hot story for her, but she’ll have to be quick, or she’ll be scooped. When you have her attention, arrange to meet somewhere on campus. After you brief her, have her interview Anderson and Todd. Console her when she realizes that her approach to her witch story is all wrong. Help her understand that the real story is about people using false news to stir up needless dissention.”
“I’m off! I’ll communicate with you through Hal while I’m away.” The robot, Archer, disappeared through the treehouse door. Hal smiled and winked at Brian as if to say, “We robots have you covered!”
Brian turned to his sidekick. “Robin, a lot depends on you attending the webinar tomorrow night. If Sibyl Green publishes her article about tonight’s demonstration, Denzel will feel threatened. He’ll also be confused if the article mentions his alter ego, Archer Blagrave.”
Nancy announced, “Todd has broken off from the protest group. Anderson is shouting something at the president’s front door about fake news and injustice.”
Ten minutes later, Todd returned to the treehouse. He quickly confirmed what Nancy had envisioned, including the identity of the mystery caller. Since he had heard the conversation between the uncle and his nephew, he had details to add.
“The protest was Denzel’s idea, not his nephew’s. When Anderson saw the online evidence of his uncle’s double-dealing, he was incensed. I don’t think Anderson will listen to his uncle the next time he calls. By the way, Anderson told me his uncle was always venting about the supernatural. He said, for the most part, Denzel’s friends were unbalanced fringe figures.”
Brian told Todd what was happening concerning Archer and Sibyl Green. The two young men laughed as they discussed the possible outcomes.
Nancy sidled up to Todd, for they were becoming an item, and said, “While you two are laughing, the community is planning to burn three innocent young students at the stake.”
“What are you talking about, Nancy?” he asked.
“Tune into the city’s Born-Again AM radio station 570 to hear what I mean.”
When they did as she directed, they heard the final interchange of views from a brash, strident radio talk show host and his guest, Mr. Uriah Denzel, a local dowser.
“So, to sum things up this evening, Mr. Denzel, you assert that three young women on the Wycherley College campus are witches. You say a protest this very evening indicates student outrage that known witches are being sequestered and harbored on campus.”
“That’s right, Joe. The Devil is at work at a small college in the center of our community. Who knows what is happening to the young minds of students there? Further, the college has plans to sell evil online and in the airwaves far beyond the local campus. A small group of embattled Christians are so far holding out against the Devil’s chicanery. For how long they’ll succeed, I just don’t know. A special source at the heart of the Christian resistance told me the end times are near.”
“Indeed, ladies and gentlemen, you heard it right here. The end times are near. Do what you can to resist the Devil. Contributions to your own Christian congregations can help. As for this program, we’ve just run out of time. Tune in tomorrow night with your Cup of Joe. This is Joe saying, ‘Goodnight, and sleep with Jesus.’”
Brian plunged his fist into his palm and said, “We might have done nothing this evening. The entire community was just told a pack of lies by a man we know is a fraud.”
Hal said, “Archer has made contact with Sibyl Green. She has responded favorably to his suggestion that she interview Anderson and Todd. She’s going to the Ministry Center now to do that.”
“Did you hear that, Todd?”
“I heard it. I’m on my way.” He hugged Nancy and said, “You can envision the interviews. I’ll record them just in case someone wants to manipulate the results on the other end.”
Brian asked Vanessa to get into Sibyl Green’s mind as soon as possible.
“I’m there already. What an airhead this woman is! I’d say she’s incapable of having a single original idea. Right now, she thinks she’s being led down a primrose path to perdition. She’s mentally conflicted. On the one hand, she has solid evidence of three witches at Wycherley. On the other hand, she has accumulating contrary evidence suggesting that the man who gave the deposition to the police is a charlatan and possibly schizophrenic.”
“Does she have any thoughts about Archer?”
“She finds him appealing, but she has compartmented her feelings while she follows his leads. She fears he will undo her conviction that a Pulitzer Prize is at the end of the witch story.”
“Okay, Nancy. We need a new consensus planted in Sibyl Green’s mind. She has to realize that the only avenue for getting the coveted Pulitzer is through the faux news approach, not the anti-witchcraft approach she had been taking before Archer appeared to change her mind.”
“Brian, you’re asking for a miracle. If Sibyl Green has closed her mind to alternatives, she’ll only hunker down with her illusion even when the facts suggest she’ll be committing professional suicide if she doesn’t change her mind. I’ll give it my best shot, anyway.”
Brian said, “Amor Vincit Omnia!”
“What?” Nancy said.
Hal said, “Love conquers all things! It’s Latin.”
“I know that, Hal. What I don’t know is how Brian is applying the formula.”
“Formula? That doesn’t compute.” Hal asserted.
“It’s okay, Hal. I know what she’s asking. Nancy, see if you can plant seeds of affection between robotic Archer and Sibyl Green while you influence her thoughts about her story.”
“Here goes nothing,” she said as she entered a trance.
“I’m getting more confused all the time,” Hal said. “I’ve just received word from Archer that he and Sibyl have decided to rest on a campus park bench to talk before going to the Ministry Center. She has slipped close to him with one hand on his leg.”
Brian said, “Good work, Nancy! Keep it going.”
“Eureka! Boy, can I be dense. Archer is seducing Sibyl, or it may be the other way around.” Hal was getting smart to their game, finally.
Brian saw Vanessa was putting her hand on Hal’s shoulder as if to say it was like her plan for her robot as well. Hal touched her hand affectionately.
By the time Archer and Sibyl reached the Ministry Center, he reported her complexion as flushed. She had decided to have an open mind during her interviews. Todd had arrived and was talking with Anderson when Sibyl approached with her notebook.
“Pardon me, I’m Sibyl Green, a reporter with the City Chronicle. Which one of you is Hugh Anderson?”
“I’m the one you’re looking for,” Anderson said.
“Mr. Anderson, is it true you are the leader of tonight’s protest movement here at Wycherley?”
“Yes, as a student leader of the Campus Ministry group and head of the student committee for truth and justice of the Student Assembly, I felt compelled to call out my people to demonstrate our solidarity.”
“So, your protest was held at the president’s house on campus this evening. What was that protest really about?”
Anderson looked her directly in the eyes and said, “Students are fed up with the fad of faux news. We won’t take it anymore.”
“I see. How many students protested?”
“Three hundred came for the protest, but they’re a mere tip of the iceberg.”
“Of the seven thousand students at Wycherley College, how many would you say believe in the tenets supporting your protest?”
“We haven’t taken a formal poll, but I’d guess seventy percent—just shy of five thousand.”
“False news has a long history. Is there a reason you decided to protest now?”
“Indeed, there is. Three students were recently accused of being witches. Uriah Denzel, the man who accused them, is unbalanced, to say the least. His claim is false. We, students, have rallied to protest the claim and to proclaim the students’ innocence.”
The reporter crossed her shapely legs and leaned forward. “Why do you say that?”
“Are you aware that Mr. Denzel also goes under the pseudonym Archer Blagrave?”
The reporter glanced at the robot Archer. Then she told Hugh, “No, I was not. What’s the significance of this information?”
“Uriah Denzel claims he can identify witches and warlocks and exorcise the evil that lurks within people. Archer Blagrave, Mr. Denzel’s alter ego, claims to belong to many paranormal groups and outs the groups’ members so Mr. Denzel can prey upon them.”
“That’s a pretty broad accusation.”
“Broad, but true. Just ask this man; he has all the proof.” He gestured toward Todd, who nodded sagely. “He provided me with a list of the URLs that make the case. It’s rare that you come across convincing evidence that overturns a faux presentation so completely as these do.” He handed the reporter the list of URLs. She accepted them and put the list in her notebook.
“What were the terms you enumerated to the college president tonight?”
“First, we demanded that the president state unequivocally that Wycherley College is not a venue for sequestration of witches or warlocks.”
“What did he say about that?”
“He gave us his word that he would put that idea in writing.”
“Did you have other demands?”
“Our second demand was that he does everything in his power to defend all Wycherley students against external accusations of their paranormal activities.”
“Were you successful in that demand as well?”
“We were satisfied, but his answer was nuanced. He stated that student activities on campus were one thing, and student activities off campus were another. Given that distinction, he would defend all allegations of on-campus activities, but he could not defend against all such off-campus activities.”
“And that was all right with you?”
“It was the best we could do. So, yes.”
“Were there any more demands?”
“We always add an extensive list of demands at every protest to reaffirm the rights of students to be respected and listened to whenever grievances must be aired and answered clearly by those in authority. The president agreed to the usual list.”
“Do you consider your protest successful?”
“Unequivocally, yes. We could not have expected better results.”
“Do you plan on follow-up protests?”
“At present, no. We made our points and received the right responses. What we will do in the future will depend on how events turn out.”
“Thank you for your candor and your time, Mr. Anderson. Do you have any objection to me using any or all of your statements on the record?”
“I have no objections.”
She stood. He stood and shook her extended hand. Then she went to robotic Archer and left the Center. Todd said goodbye to Hugh as well and left for the treehouse.
He told Brian, “I wasn’t needed for the interview. Anyway, the reporter got the list of URLs I made.”
“It’s just as well you weren’t questioned, Todd. Now let’s hope Ms. Green checks out the URLs on the list.”
“I’m a little worried about how the reporter reacted when she learned that Denzel’s pseudonym was Archer Blagrave. I hope that piece of information doesn’t cross-thread our effort.”
Brian shook his head. “It’s too early to tell. Anyway, everyone should get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a busy day, starting with the City Chronicle’s morning edition.”
The paranormal studies students gathered in the treehouse command center to review Sibyl Green’s news article about last evening’s protest at Wycherley College. To her credit, the reporter had consulted the URLs Todd had given her through Hugh Anderson. Her presentation of the facts was crisp with minimal editorializing. From her rendition of events, Wycherley College had been unjustly accused of harboring witches on campus. The source of the deposition against the college was demonstrated as unreliable. The students had protested the injustice, and the administration had agreed to all the students’ demands amicably. No violence had broken out. Students had reverted to the regular academic schedule without interruption.
“Ms. Green did well, don’t you think?” Brian asked the group.
“Not without help,” Archer added. “The original version of her story would curl your hair.”
“Kudos to you, Archer!” Robin said.
“I’ll share kudos with Vanessa and Nancy. Van influenced Sibyl to be affectionate with me. Nance somehow convinced her to keep an open mind about her story.”
Vanessa and Nancy curtsied in appreciation and kissed Archer on either cheek. He did the robotic version of a blush.
Brian said, “Now the hard part begins. While the campus front has been solidified, we still have the community fight. Robin and Archer, what have you decided to do tonight?”
Robin said, “I’m going to be the Devil’s advocate, literally.”
Archer said, “I’m going to be the ghost of Uriah Denzel’s alter ego.”
“Let’s get specific. What is your opener, Robin?”
“I’m going to ask Denzel to explain the differences among the facts related in the newspaper, the facts related in his police deposition, and his own opinions expressed on the Cup of Joe radio talk show.”
“That should bring him out of his corner fighting mad.”
Archer said, “Then I’ll come out as the ghost of himself to grill him with a series of ‘is it not true that’ statements.”
Hal said, “I like the sequencing. It’s long been said that a person cannot hold two contradictory ideas in mind without going mad.”
Brian nodded sagely. “I think we’d better be prepared for the eventuality that Mr. Denzel is genuinely mad, as his nephew implied.”
At this point, Dr. Sund arrived in the treehouse. “I caught the words, ‘genuinely mad,’ and took them as my cue to enter. For what it’s worth, I’ll contribute an old military maxim—never completely box your opponent in; always leave the opportunity for egress.”
Brian said, “Thanks, Dr. Sund. That’s good advice. Folks, what’s the exit strategy we’re going to suggest to Uriah Denzel?”
“That’s a tough question, Brian,” Robin admitted. “I’ll work on an answer before tonight’s webinar.”
Dr. Sund smiled. “Try to think through binary to triune. It works for me.”
“What are you getting at, Doctor?” Hal asked his creator.
“When you think of zeros and ones in binary form, folks forget that three voltages or potential differences are necessary to define the zeros and ones, not two. If you need a lesson in basic computer hardware and firmware, drop by my office.” Then she was off, preoccupied with one of her genius ideas.
The webinar came too quickly. Robin and Archer jacked into their computers in the treehouse just in time for Uriah Denzel’s self-serving introduction. When he had finished aggrandizing himself, he asked for questions before the briefing began. He was clearly implying in his tone of voice that no questions would be appropriate. He was therefore surprised when Robin asked her prepared opening question.
Denzel’s anger and embarrassment were palpable as he tried to answer her without exploding to vent his spleen. “My deposition was the truth. The newspaper article by Ms. Sibyl Green was a gross distortion of the facts. My own answers during the Cup of Joe interchange should have clarified exactly where I stand. Does that clarify the situation for you?”
“It may clarify it for her, Mr. Denzel, but it does not clarify it for me.”
“And who, may I ask, are you, sir?”
“You’ll recognize my name since it’s your pseudonym: Archer Blagrave.”
“Is this a hoax?”
“Mr. Denzel, if it is a hoax, it is entirely your hoax. You work under your real name Uriah Denzel when you stand against the Devil and under your pseudonym, my name when you stand with the Devil. So, my question is simple, who are you?”
“I sense you, and the first questioner are colluding to defame me. I must ask who the first questioner is.”
“Mr. Denzel, I asked the first question. My name is Robin Fairchild. You accused two of my friends and myself of being witches. I presume you were speaking as Uriah Denzel at the time. That is the name signed on your deposition. I also presume that, if you are Archer Blagrave now, you will rescind your accusation. I hold no grudges, but I do seek justice.”
“What do you want from me?”
“I want you to withdraw your deposition as a mistake. I want you to call the newspaper and tell Ms. Sibyl Green that you are sorry about alleging anything against my friends and myself, and about implying that Wycherley College is a haven for witches. For the record, I am not a witch, and my friends aren’t either.”
While Denzel remained silent, the robot Archer said, “Speaking as the other side of your rich personality, I strongly recommend taking the young lady’s recommend-ation. Then you may continue your planned presentation, the content of which is of considerable interest to me, personally.”
Denzel said, “If you are my alter ego, will you please enlighten everyone on this webinar about yourself.”
“I am the sum of the URLs you have built using my name. Your audience can consult those URLs to verify their existence. I’m sure when they compare the information they find there with that available on your Uriah Denzell websites, they’ll find—with no exceptions—that the views expressed are in diametrical opposition.”
“And all you are asking is my recantation?”
Robin said, “Yes. Your immediate and sincere recantation of your deposition, verbally here and now, to be followed by a visit to the police station to formalize the withdrawal of your deposition.”
Mr. Uriah Denzel said, “I immediately and sincerely recant my deposition and apologize for any inconvenience I may have caused you or your friends. Does that satisfy you?”
“It does. Thank you.”
“I have a final question before I turn to the substance of my talk. Is it true that you correctly guessed the number I wrote on a slip of paper—which you never saw with your eyes?”
“Mr. Denzel, you know it is NOT true that I did so. I did not even chime in when my two friends gave you the number. Try to remember the facts. Though you accused me of being a witch for stating that number, I never stated it. My friends will testify under oath that I did not do so. I suggest that you turn to your presentation before things go from bad to worse to worst.”
Defeated, Uriah Denzel then protested the evils of witchcraft in the end times. He spoke of the decay of religion and the rise of atheism and demon worship. He became so outraged by his own rhetoric that he lost track of what he was saying. He blathered. He uttered strings of non-sequiturs. He repeated himself. Finally, he became utterly exhausted. Distracted, he ended his webinar with the promise to return when he had composed himself. Robin noticed that most of his webinar participants had long since dropped offline. When Denzel signed off, only she and one other participant remained. The other remaining participant was, of course, Archer Blagrave.
“Archer, are you still online?”
“Yes, Uriah, I’m still here.”
“Why don’t we plan to meet face to face?”
“Do you think that would be a good idea? We’ve done so well without becoming acquainted, we might consider acting as we always have.”
“No. I’d very much like to meet and talk. I could only capture some of you in your websites. I feel there’s so much more for me to discover.”
“It’s certainly possible, but what if you should discover that the websites are all that compose me, and I am nothing else.”
“That would likely break my heart, Archer.”
“Uriah, you’re a dowser. That much I know is true because Robin told me so.”
“Yes, it’s true.”
“Then you know it’s not magic that leads the dowsing stick to bend down to point for water.”
“It’s not?”
The robotic Archer laughed gently. “No, Uriah, it’s not. It’s called a B-field in physics. It can be explained in a few simple equations and what is called the left-hand rule.”
“All my life, I’ve dowsed, and I’ve found plenty of water. I never knew about B-fields. Are you sure you’re right about that?”
“I’m your alter ego. Do you think I’d lie to you about that?”
“I guess not. It makes me wonder how many other mysterious things can be explained by science.”
“Now you’re making me think we should meet after all. Perhaps the best time would be just after you finish retracting your deposition tomorrow morning.”
“Yes. Why don’t we meet at Cup of Joe’s coffee house? It’s the same place the radio show broadcasts from. Shall we say eleven o’clock?”
“I’ll see you there, then, Uriah. Look for the man who might be in the mirror.”
“Now you have to be kidding me.”
“No, Uriah. I’m neither cruel nor cunning. Tomorrow, we’ll be looking each other in the eye for the first time, and I firmly believe you’ll see the resemblance.”
“If you say so, Archer.”
“I do, Uriah. Be safe until our meeting. Goodnight.”
Archer terminated the connection. Robin did likewise. Almost all the others who had witnessed the entire show burst into applause. Brian was the only person to sit there shaking his head.
“Hey, partner,” Robin said, punching Brian’s deltoid gently. “Why so glum?”
“I was just thinking about the meeting tomorrow in Cup of Joe’s when Uriah and Archer meet across a table and share coffee.”
“What’s troubling about that?”
“If Uriah Denzel was torn apart internally by his encounter with the numinous and paranormal aspects of the cosmos, what will happen to this most tormented human when he considers his own eyes and realizes he’s been doubled in an intelligent robot.”
“I fail to see the humor in that, Brian,” Archer said.
“That’s because there is no humor in it, Archer.”
“I’m afraid I think the whole thing’s hilarious,” said Hal.
Archer wrestled Hal to the ground playfully.
Brian and Robin laughed to see the robots joke around.
“Are you getting any ideas, Brian?” Robin asked.
“Only one big idea comes to mind, Robin.”
“What’s that, partner?”
“I need a cup of coffee. I’ll make a pot. Anyone who wants to join me can.”