The Dark Side by Damon Knight (ed.)

he thought he caught a glimpse out of the tail of his eyes of a top hat moving along in the departing crowd, but he dismissed it. That could wait.
    The shop was dark inside, and at first he thought it empty. But in answer to repeated shouts a scrambling began in the back room, and a nondescript little man entered, struggling into a long dark gown several sizes too large for him.
    “Sorry,” he puffed, trying to regain his right hand, which he had lost down the wrong sleeve, “out watching the parade. May I serve you, young sir?”
    “Yes. I’m a transportee, and I’d like to get back where I belong.”
    “So would we all, so would we all, indeed,” said the magician, nodding vigorously. “Junior!”
    “Yes, paw.” A gawky adolescent peered out of the back room.
    “Customer.”
    “Ah, paw. I don” wanna go in t’ any trance. I’m dragging a rag-bag to a rat-race t’night an’ I wanna be groovy. You know prognostics allus knock me flatter’n a mashed-potato san’witch.”
    “You’ll do as you’re told, or I’ll not allow you to use the broomstick. You see, young sir,” the magician addressed Hugh, “familiar spirits are at somewhat of a premium around here, there being so many in this town in my profession; but since my wife was a Sybil, my son serves me adequately in commissions of this nature.”
    He turned back to the boy, who was now sitting on a stool behind the counter, and produced a pink lollipop from the folds of his robe. The boy allowed it to be placed in his mouth docilely enough, and closed his eyes. Hugh watched, not knowing whether to laugh or to swear. If this idiotic procedure produced results, he was sure he’d never be able to contemplate Planck’s Constant seriously again.
    “Now then, while we’re waiting,” the sorcerer continued, “you should understand the situation. All living has two sides, the IN-side and the OUT-side. The OUT-side is where the roots of significant mistakes are embedded; the IN-side where they flower. Since most men have their backs turned to the OUT-side all their lives, few mistakes can be rectified. But if a man turns, as if on a pivot, so that he faces the other way, he may see and be on the OUT-side,and have the opportunity to uproot his error if he can find the means. Such a fortunate man is a transportee.”
    “So, in effect, existence has just been given a half-turn around me, to put me facing outside instead of inside where I belong?”
    “A somewhat egotistical way of putting it, but that is the general idea. The magicians of many ages have used this method of disposing of their enemies; for unless the transportee can find his Avatars—the symbols, as it were, of his error—and return them to their proper places, he must remain Outside forever. This last many have done by choice, since none ever dies Outside.”
    “I’d just as soon not,” Hugh said with a groan. “What are my Avatars?”
    “To turn a capstan there must be a lever, and to pivot a man Outside means that two other living beings must act as the ends of this lever, and exchange places in time. Your Avatars changed places in time, while you stood still in time and space, but were pivoted to face Outside.”
    At this point he reached over to the boy and gave an experimental tug on the protruding stick of the lollipop. It slipped out easily; all the pink candy had dissolved. “Ah,” he said. “We are about ready.” He made a few passes with his hands and began to sing:
“Jet propulsion, Dirac hole,
    Trochilminthes, Musterole,
    Plenum, bolide, Ding an sich,
    Shoot the savvy to me, Great White Which!”
    The tune was one more commonly associated with Pepsi-Cola. After a moment the boy’s mouth opened, and licking the remains of the lollipop from its corners, he said clearly, “Two hundred. Night prowlers.”
    “Is that all?” Hugh said, not much surprised.
    “That’s quite enough. Well, maybe not quite enough, but it’s about all I ever get.”
    “But what does it