The Merchant and the Alchemist's Gate

The Merchant and the Alchemist's Gate by Ted Chiang Page A

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Authors: Ted Chiang
Tags: Fiction, Literary, Short Stories
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hoop's opening was as wide as two outstretched hands, and its rim so thick that it would tax the strongest man to carry. The metal was black as night, but polished to such smoothness that, had it been a different color, it could have served as a mirror. Bashaarat bade me stand so that I looked upon the hoop edgewise, while he stood next to its opening.

    "Please observe," he said.

    Bashaarat thrust his arm through the hoop from the right side, but it did not extend out from the left. Instead, it was as if his arm were severed at the elbow, and he waved the stump up and down, and then pulled his arm out intact.

    I had not expected to see such a learned man perform a conjuror's trick, but it was well done, and I applauded politely.

    "Now wait a moment," he said as he took a step back.

    I waited, and behold, an arm reached out of the hoop from its left side, without a body to hold it up. The sleeve it wore matched Bashaarat's robe. The arm waved up and down, and then retreated through the hoop until it was gone.

    The first trick I had thought a clever mime, but this one seemed far superior, because the pedestal and hoop were clearly too slender to conceal a person. "Very clever!" I exclaimed.

    "Thank you, but this is not mere sleight of hand. The right side of the hoop precedes the left by several seconds. To pass through the hoop is to cross that duration instantly."

    "I do not understand," I said.

    "Let me repeat the demonstration." Again he thrust his arm through the hoop, and his arm disappeared. He smiled, and pulled back and forth as if playing tug-a-rope Then he pulled his arm out again, and presented his hand to me with the palm open. On it lay a ring I recognized.

    "That is my ring!" I checked my hand, and saw that my ring still lay on my finger. "You have conjured up a duplicate."

    "No, this is truly your ring. Wait."

    Again, an arm reached out from the left side. Wishing to discover the mechanism of the trick, I rushed over to grab it by the hand. It was not a false hand, but one fully warm and alive as mine. I pulled on it, and it pulled back. Then, as deft as a pickpocket, the hand slipped the ring from my finger and the arm withdrew into the hoop, vanishing completely.

    "My ring is gone!" I exclaimed.

    "No, my lord," he said. "Your ring is here." And he gave me the ring he held. "Forgive me for my game."

    I replaced it on my finger. "You had the ring before it was taken from me."

    At that moment an arm reached out, this time from the right side of the hoop. "What is this?" I exclaimed. Again I recognized it as his by the sleeve before it withdrew, but I had not seen him reach in.

    "Recall," he said, "the right side of the hoop precedes the left." And he walked over to the left side of the hoop, and thrust his arm through from that side, and again it disappeared.

    Your Majesty has undoubtedly already grasped this, but it was only then that I understood: whatever happened on the right side of the hoop was complemented, a few seconds later, by an event on the left side. "Is this sorcery?" I asked.

    "No, my lord, as you know magic and sorcery are disbelief and will lead one to eternal Hell, may Allah protect us."

    ...That which they have made is only a magician's trick, and the magician will never be successful, no matter whatever amount (of skill) he may attain. (Koran 20.69)

    "This also has nothing to do with the djiin. I have never met a djinni, and if I did, I would not trust it to do my bidding. This is a form of alchemy."

    He offered an explanation, speaking of his search for tiny pores in the skin of reality, like the holes that worms bore into wood, and how upon finding one he was able to expand and stretch it the way a glassblower turns a dollop of molten glass into a long-necked pipe, and how he then allowed time to flow like water at one mouth while causing it to thicken like syrup at the other. I confess I did not really understand his words, and cannot testify to their truth. All I

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