With apologies to the entire cultural concept of
jinn
, which I am knowingly desecrating.
*****
The sound of a doorbell suddenly filled the cluttered studio apartment, pulling Antonio Narvaez's attention away from the amateur porn pictures that he'd been examining on his desktop computer for the last half hour - a break from work that had somewhat gotten away from him.
With a grunt, he lifted himself from his computer chair, and navigated himself through to the front door. He wasn't eager for social interaction, but he knew just what to expect; not an inquisitive neighbor or a surprise visit from a friend, but an Ebay package and the distant back of the deliveryperson, briskly returning to their car. You didn't have to sign for packages like this. Not at the price that Antonio picked them up.
Hauling the box inside with some effort, Antonio tried to remember what he'd ordered that was this fucking heavy. Grabbing a boxcutter from the top of a precarious pile of old mail on the coffee table, he soon had an answer. Right. Bunch of old metalware. He rooted around in the box, throwing aside some worthless old tin cups. His business model on was to buy combined lots of old stuff that the owners hadn't properly identified, either on Ebay or at local garage sales and such, then resell the stuff that was worth anything. It took a keen sense of value, and kitchenware was not his strongest area. He did better with books and retro toys. But he'd had a feeling about this listing, so he'd snatched it even though the shipping had cost more than what he'd bid.
Setting aside a few pieces of flatware that
might
be sterling silver (he wasn't one hundred percent sure how to check that), Antonio honed in on a weirder, darker shape nestled in the air pillows. He pulled it out. It was undeniably an old oil lamp, the kind that looked like you should pour tea from it.
This was it. This had to be worth way more than the pittance that the lot had cost him. He turned it all around, but didn't see any kind of brand name stamp or label on it, which was annoying from an appraisal standpoint but probably boded well for its antiquity.
Next thing was to check the material. If this was tarnished brass, it should clean up nicely. He licked his thumb and started rubbing away at a spot on the side...
Immediately, black smoke began pouring out of the spout, filling the crowded room. Antonio dropped it, leaped to his feet, and backed away, coughing and covering his eyes instinctively, though he soon noticed that the stuff wasn't actually irritating his eyes or throat.
Indeed, it was pulling away from him, gathering in the center of the room in a whirlwind that grew faster and tighter until it vanished in a burst of light, revealing a woman - slim, dark-skinned, with even darker long black hair pulled into a high ponytail. Crisp, gold-trimmed blue panties and girdle clung to her pert chest and rear, obscured only sightly by a gauzy blouse and equally transparent, airy trousers.
She was also, Antonio became aware, floating about two feet above the air. The top of her ponytail almost scraped the ceiling.
"Mortal," she intoned in a commanding tenor, "rejoice, for you are in the presence of al-Zuhara of the Evening Star, jinniyya serving the Divine Will. I was sealed in this lamp for failing to submit to the will of the Lord, but on this day, I walk the Earth once more!"
Antonio was backed up against the wall, eyes wide and mouth hanging open, trapped in a frozen state between fight and flight.
al-Zuhara smirked. Humans might have been granted lordship over the Earth, and far be it from her to quibble with the Almighty's plans... any more. But on a personal level, it certainly was satisfying to intimidate the little schmucks.
Then she noticed that the man's gaze had drifted down to her high, shapely bosom, visible through the gauze of her blouse. She rolled her eyes. Time to move things along.
The jinn drifted down into a chair, until she noticed that it was covered with metal cups for some reason. Conjuring a much finer teak seat, she settled on that instead, crossing her legs primly. "You are granted my service in accomplishing three tasks, by the grace of..."
"Wishes!" Antonio blurted out.
al-Zuhara frowned. "Pardon?"
"You're going to grant me wishes!"
"I will attempt to carry out your wishes, yes. But do not think of them as all-powerful. There are limitations to the powers I may invoke on your behalf."
"I get three wishes, I can't wish for more wishes, I can't make people fall in love, and you can't bring people back from the dead! You're a
pop culture genie
!"
The awe and terror that a being of the smokeless fire should rightfully evoke in mortals seemed to be fading swiftly. He was grinning at her in a most unnerving way - almost manic. Certainly not respectful. She hoped this one made up his mind quickly.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," al-Zuhara snapped. Then she tried to compose herself. There was such a thing as professionalism. "It is true, the high magics may only be invoked on your behalf three times, and Heaven will not grant you any further boons for any reason. Furthermore, to affect a person's divine soul is beyond my limits - I can change neither their thoughts, nor the feelings that lie within their breast." She regretted her choice of words, as the man's eyes dropped again, except this time he was still grinning - almost leering, really. Men were the same in every age.
"Finally, no power that I possess can deny the ultimate fate of mankind; when the soul passes beyond this world, it is beyond the reach of any save the Word, and none may escape the..." she trailed off in the face of the man's smug smiling and nodding. This was not how this conversation usually went.
"I bet you're not even a real genie!" Antonio exclaimed abruptly. "A real genie would have no trouble bringing me enough money to make me comfortable for the rest of my life."
"That would be no difficulty," she replied smoothly, rising to her feet and raising a hand. "Do you wish that to be my first service?"
Antonio paused.
"Uh. No." he replied, at length. "I was sort of hoping you would do that for free just to prove me wrong."
"Ridiculous," al-Zuhara dismissed, annoyed that her first task wasn't going to be finished that quickly. "Quite impossible. Such a thing could only be done as one of my three services to you."
