Where in a mansion do you hide a brass genie lamp? I thought I’d hide it in the safe—till I actually opened the safe. It turned out that Uncle Warren’s safe was designed for storing flat things. Even with everything pulled out, there was no room in the safe for the lamp.

But opening the safe wasn’t a total loss. Among the items I temporarily removed from the safe was $66,340 in small bills. I put a hundred dollars of that windfall in my wallet.

I wanted to be able to rub the lamp anytime. So that meant not storing it off the property, in a safe-deposit box or some such. I thought of storing the lamp in the attic—till I climbed the attic stairs. Jeez, it sounded like I was walking on kettle drums! Scratch trying to sneak into the attic.

I realized then that I wasn’t thinking fourth-dimensionally. I was both smart and strong now—how could I use that?

In the end, I carried a ratty recliner from the Electronics Recreation Room up the stairs, and put it in the master bedroom, in a corner by a window. Then I grabbed a standing lamp out of another bedroom, and put that lamp by the recliner. (Did I mention that the mansion has twenty bedrooms?) I put the footlocker on the recliner’s left side. Anyone seeing the footlocker would presume that its only purpose was to be a side-table for whoever was reading in the recliner; and a scuffed-up footlocker suited a well-worn recliner.

In short, the footlocker now was in my bedroom and was easy to get to; but nobody would wonder, Why is this old footlocker in Marvin’s bedroom?

With the important problem of “Where do I keep Fatima’s lamp?” finally solved, I got out my key ring. I opened the footlocker’s padlock.

I’m not sure if Fatima was excited because Uncle Warren’s mansion had lots of neat stuff, and she was seeing everything for the first time—or if she was excited simply because she was out of the brass lamp. In any case, excited Fatima was great company.

Eventually Fatima and I wound up in the main kitchen. (Did I mention that the mansion had a main kitchen and a poolside kitchen? Did I mention that the main kitchen was as big and fancy as something in a restaurant?) I nuked some canned Chinese food, and set out some chips and salsa. I offered Fatima a beer; she declined.

Right after we sat down at the kitchen table, Fatima looked at me and said, “Master, you look like you want to ask me something.”

“I do. Right now, my wishes are granted, I’m not dead yet, the lamp isn’t swiped yet, and you’re out of the lamp. King Solomon made all those rules about wishmaking, so I presume he made rules for today’s situation too?”

“Yes, Master. Like before, if you rub the lamp, I must come out; if you order me back into my lamp, I must go in; if you ask me a question, I cannot lie to you. If you order me to do something nonmagically, I must obey—”

Now Fatima was looking at me nervously. “—but if you tell me to do something magical, now I may choose to say no.”

Why is she so nervous now? I wondered. Then I realized why. If I’d give a magical order and she could say no, then the flip side would be...

“Good grief,” I said. “You can grant me a seventh wish. Or a seventieth wish. Or a seven-hundredth wish.”

“It won’t be a wish officially. But yes. Except that King Solomon set down rules about what I may say yes to.”

“Go on.”

“I may not grant you a throne, nor may I cloud men’s minds so that you wind up with a throne. I may not kill anyone magically, nor may I magically make someone so sick or injured that death soon is certain. I may not grant immortality to anyone—”

“So King Solomon just shifted the thou-shalt-nots from me to you. That’s fine.”

“But now I may not postpone anyone’s fated death by even an hour. That power I may use only to grant a wish.”

I nodded. “Because then it costs the wisher.”

“And finally, Master, I may not use magic to prevent another human from taking the lamp from you. If you would guard the lamp, you must do so on your own.”

Now Fatima’s eyes were searching my face. Clearly she wanted to know, Will he be content with what he already has, or will he always be bothering me for more?

I wasn’t yet ready to think about something so important. Instead, I said, “Let’s back up to the ‘nonmagical’ rule. Suppose I hand you a bucket of water and a sponge, and I show you where the garden hose is. Then I tell you, “Wash my car.’ I don’t say nonmagically, but that’s pretty much implied. Now suppose you think, Doing it nonmagically will take too long. May you hocus-pocus the car clean, even though I didn’t request this or suggest it?”

“Yes.”

“So if I ask you a question, you’re allowed to pop up a scrying ball to answer my question, even though I never mention a scrying ball?”

“Yes.” Then she smiled mischievously, adding, “Or I might Google the answer instead.”

“One last question. You tell me you may not postpone someone’s fated death. But what if you and I are with George, and it’s George’s day to die but you and I don’t know that, and George gets in a jam and you decide to save George. What happens then?”

“Something goes wrong, seemingly accidentally, and I can’t save him. If I try to cast a spell that can’t fail to save George, then the spell doesn’t work at all. As if someone disconnected the battery.”

I stared at her. “How awful you would feel, if you really wanted to save the person, and you found out afterward that all your efforts were doomed to fail. I hope that when it’s my day to die, you don’t have to suffer something like this.”

“That’s easily fixed,” Fatima said brightly. She summoned her scrying ball, worked it for a few seconds, then looked at me. “Would you like to know the date of your fated death?”

“Is it within the next ten years?”

“No.”

“Ask me again, ten years from now. But telling me right now? No way!”

“May 14, 2020, ask you again. Got it, Master,” Fatima said. Then she vanished the scrying ball, and then she went back to searching my face.

So I thought about the question that was so worrying her.

After a time, I said, “Right now, I’m worth thirty-two billion dollars. I can’t wrap my brain around that, it’s only a number to me. I’m getting all the sex I want. My favorite relative is getting well, and my parents’ marriage is strong. Why would I want a seventh wish, whether it’s called that or not?”

I saw Fatima relax.

I added, “So if you ever get a chance to drop a different magic lamp in my lap, don’t. Give the new lamp to someone who needs it.”

Fatima replied, “Except that I can’t hand you the lamp if I find one. No djinni can touch a bound djinni’s vessel. Our hands turn to smoke when we try.”

“Wow. Really?”

“That’s why you humans must rub the lamp or bottle to make the bound djinni come out. Only a human can grasp the vessel, and only a human can rub his other hand solidly against the metal. King Solomon made sure that no bound djinni could have a djinni for a master.”

Then Fatima gave me a sunny smile, and toasted me with a can of Dr Pepper. “I’m so glad that you are my master, Marvin Harper. I don’t know of many masters who, given a chance to own a second bound djinni, would say, ‘No thank you.’”

I shrugged. “As far as me asking you for magical favors, I’m sure I’ll ask for little things. ‘Fatima, I left my umbrella at home. Would you pop it here, please?’—that sort of thing.”

I yawned then. I looked at Fatima and asked, “Genies don’t sleep, do they?”

“No, Master.”

“Then let me connect my computer up, so you won’t be bored tonight.”

She smiled at me. “Don’t worry, Master, I’m sure I won’t be bored.”

For the time being, I set up my computer on the same desk where Uncle Warren had his. Sometime while I was connecting cables on my computer, I said, “If you leave or enter the house, don’t let the neighbors see. Wherever you go, be here with me by 8:15 tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, Master.”

Once my computer was assembled, Fatima and I went upstairs, hand in hand. I brushed my teeth, undressed to my briefs, and climbed into Uncle Wa—into my bed.

I pulled down the coverlets and patted the mattress next to me. “Snuggle with me till I fall asleep,” I ordered.

Fatima and I kissed for a while, till I got too sleepy. When I broke the kiss, she remarked, “I’ve never done this before.”

“Done what?”

“I’ve never seen my master fall asleep.”

“Mm,” I replied, being too sleepy to say more.

She pulled my head to her bosom. “Sleep well, Master. Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of your life.”