Occam's Razor

With an effort, I forced myself to focus on the current situation. Laughlin was right, we had to get out of here. There would be time for questions later. I concealed my gun again, and checked the powder to ensure that no prints were left, then paused by the door to listen. It was quiet outside, and the hallway was clear when I slowly opened the door and peered out. I motioned silently to Laughlin, and we headed for the safety of the stairwell.

Now that we were out of immediate danger, the question was, where to next? Given what had just happened, I needed to talk to Laughlin...in private. Which meant one of our cabanas. The storm hadn't lessened any, but it was only a short sprint to mine. Laughlin agreed with my suggestion, and not long afterwards, we arrived at my cabana, soaking wet.

"Damn!" said Laughlin. "I hope you have lots of towels!"

"This is definitely our day for getting wet, it seems." I gave the place a quick once over, to see if it looked like anyone had broken in while I was gone, but nothing looked disturbed. I grabbed some towels from the bathroom and tossed Laughlin a few. "These will have to do, for now. I'll be right back."

I went into the bedroom, shut the door, and changed into dry clothes, then rejoined Laughlin in the main room. He was unself-consciously wrapped only in a towel, which wasn't exactly an unpleasant sight. His body was tanned and hard, possibly from years of archeology, more likely from having the finest trainers a vast fortune can buy. Not that I hadn't seen it before, when we were on the island, but I'd been a bit more distracted then. Besides, there was something about a towel that just seemed much more undressed than a bathing suit. Maybe it was the fact that it could come off so easily.... "I'm afraid I don't have anything here that will fit you," I informed him, not feeling all that regretful about it.

He shrugged. "I'll go get something dry when it blows over. We need to talk and I think you ought to go first. Just who the hell is this Stroeker and why did you follow him all the way out here? It's obvious that you're not here for the convention."

I raised an eyebrow. And here I thought I'd be the one with all the questions. But we'd been over this already. "I told you, Stroeker's a murder suspect. I followed him here unofficially, hoping to find out what he was up to, and where he was going to re-enter the States. Whatever weirdness he's involved with here, I wasn't aware of it before I got here. I didn't even know what he was smuggling until yesterday. Now, your turn. What are you doing here? And how did you do...that," I said while indicating my forehead. Somehow, I couldn't bring myself to say, 'turn us invisible.' It sounded ludicrous when I even thought it.

Laughlin shrugged. "I'm actually here for the convention. I've been a member for years. You'd be surprised how much legitimate information is hidden in amongst the craziness and paranoia. It furthers my research into the occult, the unknown. As to the other...nothing happened. He just didn't see us."

I didn't bother to hide my irritation at his non-answer. "Of course he couldn't see us. I couldn't even see us in the mirror, not until you rubbed your thumb across my forehead. Don't try to convince me that he just wasn't very observant. You did something to both of us, and I want to know what it was."

Laughlin regarded me evenly for a while, then snorted. I found myself rather irked at being laughed at by a half-naked man in my room.

"Very well, Agent Roman, I did something. What do your deductive skills tell you I did?"

I responded coolly, "My observational skills tell me that you managed to turn us...invisible, for lack of a better word. Rendered us so that light passed through us. Something that should be impossible, except I saw it happen. Normally I would assume it was a device of some kind that generated a field around us, except you didn't flip any switch, you did something on our foreheads with your finger. And I see no such device now. I suppose it could be hidden in your watch or something like that.... But a device like that would represent a technological breakthrough of enormous proportions. I just can't believe that you would be casually running around on a tropical island with one. If you are who and what you say you are."

"You didn't answer the question. What do you think happened?"

Now I was getting really annoyed. "If I knew that, I wouldn't be asking, would I? You did something I didn't believe was possible, outside of movie special effects. And if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I still wouldn't believe it was possible. Knowing that it is doesn't help me understand how it was done. It has to be a device of some kind. What other explanation can there be?"

"The capacity for avoiding the obvious that you are displaying right now is what people like me rely on for anonymity in this world, Agent Roman. You deal with cognitive dissonance by denying the simplest, most obvious answers while simultaneously admitting the ones you'd be comfortable with don't make any sense. You are a woman of reason, trained in science. The simplest law of science is Occam's Razor: that when multiple solutions present themselves, the simplest solution is most often correct. You have seen me swim a distance underwater no human could survive. You have seen me take a boat unharmed over a dangerous reef. And now you have become invisible yourself. You know the answer without my saying it: magic."

The word sounded ridiculous coming from this most modern of men. Magicians didn't have tans and sit around in bath towels, I thought inanely. Then my brain kicked back into gear, and with a dubious expression I began ticking points off on my fingers. "Taking a boat unharmed over a dangerous reef is hardly a magical act. Occam's Razor concludes that you simply are skilled at piloting a boat. That is a far simpler explanation than magic. And I saw you swim the distance underwater that you mention because I was there myself, and I certainly wasn't using magic. Unless you are implying that I'm not human." I smiled slightly at the outrageousness of that idea, then frowned as I got to the last, most troublesome example.

"I admit, I don't have a simple explanation for the invisibility, but I do recall a saying that any significantly advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. By Occam's Razor, a technological device is the simpler explanation, since I know that technology exists. Magic, on the other hand.... I concede that 'magic' of the smoke and mirrors variety exists, but that isn't what you're implying here, is it? When you say magic, you mean the kind that people read about in fantasy novels. That is a form of magic that, as far as I know, does not exist. I am, however, willing to be convinced otherwise. Can you explain how it works?"

"You and I swam together, but I stayed underwater to duel with the shark," he reminded me.

True, but it hadn't been that much longer. I'd made it up the stairs, taken another breath, and by the time I returned he was finishing off the shark. He could easily just have better lung capacity than I.

"As for magic," he continued, "it is only partly a skill. One is either born with the capacity or not. Still, if you prefer the technological explanation, why should I deter you? Feel free to think of me as having access to excellent technology that only I and a few select others can use. It will be a harder explanation to use on whatever made those footprints in Stroeker's room, however. Whatever that was, they don't have them in zoos. I'd say that it was intelligent, and looking for something. And I've got an idea what. I think Stroeker is dealing in ancient artifacts, things with a significance to those in my line of work. I believe he is more than just the mindless thug he appears to be. I also think that this storm might be his doing. It certainly has served to cover his tracks well, just when it seems the locals were out for his head."

My disbelief was plain on my face. "You think Stroeker summoned a storm?!? That he's a...what do you call yourselves, anyway? Mages? Sorcerers? Wizards?" I shook my head. This was completely insane. "I suppose next you're going to tell me that I conveniently don't have the capacity to use this magic of yours, right?"

"It's not that simple. It requires years of difficult study and hours of tedious work every day, in addition to native capacity. You could well have the capacity, although very few do. In any case, you aren't going to learn it overnight, like a card trick."

Naturally. Awfully convenient, that.

"As for Stroeker, let's just say that I don't believe in coincidences. We...I like the term 'adepts'...use coincidence to our best advantage. That freak storm was a great stroke of luck for our quarry, don't you think? Even if it's not him, and it really is just a coincidence, he's now conveniently gone. What are we going to do about it?"

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Last modified on August 21, 2002 by Kris Fazzari.