Chapter 13

The sensation of my head being cradled by a warm, caring pair of breasts was somewhat familiar. When I had first discovered the djinni, I had woken to this wonderful sensation every night for two weeks. Then the last few nights had been different: waking with just Lisa cradled in my arms, and waking alone and feeling worse than hung over. This morning seemed to combine all of the good sensations: I seemed to have Lisa in my arms and I seemed to be resting on a djinni. But there was an unfamiliar cover over us, and the bed was unfamiliar.

I opened my eyes. We were nestled in the heap of carpets on the floor in the living room of my condo. My glance went immediately to the sleeper sofa. It wasn't pulled out, so Warren was... spending the night in Rajiv's guest room, I remembered. And Sarah was spending the weekend at May's. So it was just the two of us, and the djinni. Lisa had curled herself into my side and tangled herself around my arm. There was no way that I could extract my arm without waking her. I nestled back and let happy djinni fingers run through my hair.

"Mmmmmmmf." Lisa stirred beneath my arm. My waking movements must have disturbed her. "Where are... ?"

"Ssshhhh." I shushed her. "After you had the djinni replace the sheets on the bed last night, we didn't make it that far."

"All that work, and we didn't get to mess the sheets."

"We'll get plenty of chances."

"And we've got to get you a bigger bed. I get you, and all of this wonderful company, but a bigger bed would be nicer."

"When we find a new place. I'll admit, this one is a bit of a postage stamp, but I'm way not big on house-hunting. I lucked into this one when I found a desperate dot-goner who wanted to move back, and wanted out. I'd been looking for months. Go here, go there, look at an overpriced shoebox or put in a bid on an absurdly expensive broom closet. And after what the kids have been through, being able to keep them in their same school, with their friends, meant a lot."

"So if I could find you a bigger place..."

"... and the kids didn't have to change schools, I'd agree."

"What's your taste?"

"What do I like? I don't know. I'd prefer something interesting. Almost everything here in San Jose is some variety of ticky-tacky. I'd settle for more room. Achmed said that he could build me a palace, if I could get it past the Planning Department. But where in San Jose you build a palace, I don't know."

"So if I like it..."

"I'm not in love with this condo. I'll move. But you find it."

Lisa was so not into shopping. I figured that I had a decent respite.

We had a lazy Sunday morning breakfast. I had slipped on a pair of jeans "for protection" while I cooked, and the djinni had brought in Lisa's silk robe. I finished the important parts of the Sunday paper: the comics and the business section, over a third cup of coffee. I realized that I did have a task to handle that I had put off for a couple of days.

"There is one thing that I should do before the kids get home."

"Which is what?"

"I picked up two lamps in Tiburon that I haven't yet explored."

"So it's rub your lamps time and see what new djinni show up? I'll watch."

Lisa retreated to the couch. The djinni draped themselves around her.

I went over to my cabinet. The two newest Model B's (one green, one brown), were at the right end of the row of glass lamps. My four original treasures, all inert, were at the left end of the row. Then Achmed's lamp, and the other three djinni. I took a deep breath.

"Open, Sesame."

The hidden catches popped, and the glass doors swung loose. I rubbed the green lamp. Nothing happened. I rubbed the brown one. Again, nothing. I pulled the green lamp from its niche and unscrewed the filler cap. The lamp smelled of must, the smell of something had been kept closed for too long. The weird, perfumey smell that I remembered from Achmed's lamp didn't seem to be there.

"What's wrong, honey?"

"I rubbed the lamps and nothing happened."

"Maybe you need to do the dishes first." Lisa wasn't domestic, but she understood how to exploit that talent in others. With djinni assistance, I cleared the breakfast mess. I poured myself the last of the breakfast coffee.

One more try. I rubbed the green lamp again. This time, the ventilation system hiccupped. And hiccupped. And hiccupped. The room now smelled faintly of cordite and some rank, best left undetermined, odors. The djinni all gathered tightly around Lisa, protecting her, shielding her. A sense of menace pervaded the room. A scowling djinni, a little taller and more muscular than Achmed, appeared in the room. He was wearing camouflage pants and a brown "U.S. Army" tee shirt.

"I am the djinni of the lamp. I am yours to command. What is your desire, my Master?"

"Who are you?"

"I was called Muammar. You may name me anything you like. A minute ago I was in Baghdad, and my lamp was being broken. And now I am in..."

"San Jose, California, USA."

"So I have not just been liberated, I have been freed." His scowl relaxed. The air of menace in the room evaporated. The faint scents of Baghdad remained. "You should send a thank you to your Major Washington."

"Uh, explain..."

"Until a minute ago, I was the djinni of a lamp that had belonged to Saddam Hussein. I have no idea how my lamp came into his possession. It might be better for all of us if we did not know. He rubbed my lamp in desperation during the invasion, and when I appeared he asked me to provide him with the ability to proclaim victory over the American invaders. But he already had his Minister of Information, who would proclaim victory even as the American tanks were entering Baghdad. So I told him that he already possessed that ability, and I returned to my lamp.

"When my lamp was broken, it was in the house of a Ba'athist general who was being arrested by an American patrol. Major Washington cleared a shelf full of antique bottles to uncover a safe. When my bottle broke, I was liberated. Liberated to wander restless in the deserts until such time as a bottle or lamp sealed with the seal of Solomon was prepared for me. Because I am bound to Solomon's seal, I cannot rest until there is a lamp for me to occupy. The broken bottle belonged to the general, since he had stolen it from Saddam. I am now the djinni of your lamp."

He looked around the room.

"I see that I am not appropriately dressed. Excuse me."

He shimmered for a moment, and reappeared in tan Dockers and a "SiliconBeat" knit shirt.

I looked at him. "You may greet the other djinni."

He looked startled. "Other djinni?"

The phalanx surrounding Lisa broke up into individual djinni who greeted their long-lost brother. I went over to my cabinet and rubbed my other four occupied lamps. The ventilation system did its hiccup, and Achmed and his brothers appeared. The djinni uniform of the day was indeed the "SiliconBeat" shirt.

"We are the djinni of the lamp. We are yours to command. What is your desire, my Master?"

"You may greet your brother."

The room was crowded with a dozen djinni greeting the newcomer. Lisa and I watched the hubbub from the couch.

When the greeting was complete, the female djinni clustered around Lisa again. The male djinni seated themselves on the carpet.

Muammar spoke.

"I am the senior djinni. I was the first djinni sealed by Solomon. After I was sealed, it was a simple matter for Solomon to seal all of the other wild djinni. My bottle has passed from one ruler to another around the Middle East for thousands of years. I have done many famous and infamous things over the years, but I am now your servant, as all your djinni are your servants. That is the way that it must be.

"I see you have met my little brother. Where Achmed is subtle, I am brutal. If you would ask Achmed's aid to defeat an army, he would arrange to have communications from the general to his officers collapse. I would raise a sandstorm that would have camels spitting dry sand for a week, and would leave trucks and tanks with wheels and gears that would never turn again. When you asked him for a ring for your beloved, he brought you a single ring. I would have cleaned out all the dictator's treasure rooms, and left it all sitting in a heap in the living room for you to shovel into the dumpster." He smiled. "Or to ask me to.

"Many people over the centuries have been confused between my little brother and me. They have asked him to defeat an opposing army, and then waited for the sandstorm. When armies meet in a sandstorm, only the sand is victorious. They have asked me for jewelry, and I have delivered it still attached to their sworn enemy's hand.