《The Spell Thief》


 Chapter 1: The Spell Thief

    The weight of the deceptively heavy ball pressed into the hip of a small cloaked figure hiding in the shadows. She put her hand into her pocket, feeling the distinctive 3 ringed shape with a threaded base. She imagined the clear lens shaped gem that had been inset into the bottom.The fear of losing the item was unshakable, even though her enchanted pocket promised that no item shall leave it except by her hand.Abotched robbery was bad enough without ultimately losing the prize.


    With thestolen objectsecured, Pierce turned her attentiontosecuring herself. Alarms were going off, drawing a crowd in front of the vault. Traditional wisdom is that theft should occur at night, but Pierce felt differently. Having a crowd around to disappear into has always felt more beneficial than darkness that could be wiped with a quick spell.She pulled her hood down revealing her powder-white face with big orange eyes, thin-lined lips, pointy ears and apetitenose with a ridged bridge. Her cloakwashedfrom black to a dirty white.


    She moved forward silently and blended into the crowd.Since she had burned most of her magic trying to get out of the vault, shehad to be wary of the magical security moving aroundthearea. They walked around in light blue robes with big wooden staves. They kept in communication with each other by sending rapid message spells, which they were casting without preparation, otherwise known as hot-casting.


    Pierce began surveying the congregation for prepared spells. She had only known one other person who had been giftedwiththe ability to see spells, aka spell sight, and they never compared notes on what they saw. As far as she was concerned, it was an open question if all spell-seers saw the same thing. What she saw were energetic light spheres of various colors and consistency with various effects. While she was at the Academy, a teacher once said, ¡°Spell identification is just as much art as it was science.¡± Of course, this teacher was wrong. It was very much science, but the augmentation magic she used was never as good as the real thing.


    There are a few characteristics that one should look upon when discerning what the conjuration is. The first is color. There isa persistentmyth that spells fall into six families, each withtheirspecific color. The truth is there are many colors, and most magic is multi-tone. The spell she is looking for now is mostly pink, but with a touch of blue-green. The second identifieristexture. Not easily detected without natural magic sight, Pierce wanted to see a soft skin-like texture. Affectations were the third key to determining the spell type. Some spells had rings; others had sparks flying off. One time she saw a spell with a head just orbiting it, some kind of necromancer conjuration.The one she neededwould have two circles dangling from either side. This was a glamour, a means to hide her face if the Vault¡¯s protection had gotten her image.


    She had noticed this particular sorcery when the crowd first started to draw in and hoped she would find it again before a projection of her face decorated the sky above. She walked unnoticed by most and dismissed as a child by the rest. She passed under a perfect white pearl, a healing prayer, circling the waist of a cleric. The first magic she stole a long time ago was a healing prayer. The first crime was always desperate.


    Her eye managed to catch the glamour floating in front of her, a few feet away around a beautiful tall woman dressed in an extravagant orange dress with a hoop skirt. Pierce wondered why someone so beautiful would need to change how they looked. Moving through the crowd with ease, she quickly closed the distance to her destination. The woman was distracted as the need to be on guard hadn''t quite disseminated its way into her consciousness. The ball flowed freely and in a large orbit around the target, indicating this would be an easy transference. Pierce brushed against the woman. The spell wound around the woman one last time before rolling down its new owner¡¯s arm where it began to rest around her waist.She movedquietlyaway from the scene of the crime.


    As the people gathering began to realize exactly what was happening, the mystical orbits tightened. A few got close enough to attach it to the caster''s body. This guaranteed that further attempts would be noticed or resisted. The crowd''s attention was upward, where the beginning formation of the thief''s portrait was taking shape. The thief, herself, was downward, preparing to cast her illicitly obtained spell. She was careful to crouch in an area with plenty of room around her. She made a show of tying her bootlace. Growing from 3 feet to 6 feet would be less noticeablewhenkneelingrather than standing. She made a cup out of her hands. The glamour flowed and puddled into them. She splashed the magic in her face, triggering the spell to take effect.


    As she suspected, the first thing to start changing was her height. Nearly twice as tall as she was used to. Her hair shortened and browned. Her skin went from ghost white to a bronze tan. Her eyes narrowed, her ears rounded, herarms grew,andher chest shrunk.New hair starting popping up in places where she usually removed it from. Short tufts poked out her nose and her ears. Then the beard started coming in. It was short andwell-shaped. Any minute now,everyone around would be alerted toan albino pixie girl, and she would be helping them as a big burly man.


    The next part was critical. She carefully stood up pushing her way out of the shelter of denizens that surrounded her. People were being pushed every which way, which helped convey the idea that she had been this tall the whole time. The image above had been completed. It was a perfect copy. Captured a split second before the shocked look on the face above uttered unkind words of frustration. The accompanying text, in fancy writing, "Spell Thief." "I guess they noticed the missing keys, or that the trace on the artifact is gone," Pierce thought, "Good for them."


    With that particular hurdle overcome, she began navigating her overly large body toward the Tavern. She had protested when she was told that her contact would be waiting for her there. She always got hassled because of her height. ¡°Children aren¡¯t allowed in here!¡± This is a common problem for short people like her, especially those who tended to keep a youthful appearance. Proving one¡¯s age can be a hassle, sometimes requiring documents, and sometimes requiring being subjugated to an age-verification spell.


    She soon noticed moving through the crowd wasn¡¯t easy. This did not surprise her. It wasn¡¯t the first time she had piloted a body foreign to her. When she was at theAcadamy, the athletics class required one to master certain feats after being transfigured into many different things. She was best when she was tiny, always first when being turned into a mouse. She struggled with the larger bodies but was quick to adapt. She took a breath, slowed down, and began walking. It took four steps of her normal body to equal one step from this man. She was well aware of the amount of weight she had just put on, and how easy it would be to unintendedly overpower her movements. It didn''t take long for her to start moving like she had been doing this her whole life.


    She pushed her way through the congregation, being very polite and saying ¡°Excuse me,¡± and ¡°Sorry¡± often. Her priority was getting away from the scene of her transformation. People stepped out of her way, some politely, some begrudgingly. It wasn¡¯t long before she wished she could disappear under their legs again and move without notice.


    A gruff female voice began booming through the air. ¡°Spell Thief among you! Keep watch on your valuables and your magic! If you are missing a spell, please report it to the nearest Security Mage searching the crowd!¡± Security canvased the crowd. They moved through in a grid search pattern sending messages and detecting magic.


    A guard with white hair and only a left eye approached the area of Pierce''s transformation. He paused and twiddled his fingers on his free hand molding raw magic energy into a spell. He closed his hand a popped the detection magic almost as soon has it formed. He focused intently as it took a moment to process the information often garbled by the caster''s spells. His eye brightened and a smile washed across his face. He was quick to send this information to the Head of Security. After a few seconds, the loud voice boomed again. "We have detected a Glamour Spell cast in the area! If you have recently lost or cast a glamour spell, please notify the nearest Security Mage!" A frustrated Pierce let out a quick grunt. The guard startedtoquestion the people in the vicinity. She changed direction and picked up the pace. Getting lost in the noise was harder now that she was taller, but not impossible.


    She got within viewing distance of the perimeter. She didn''t expect them to be incompetent enough to not be patrolling, but she did have her hopes. To her dismay, everyone separating themselves from the mass was stopped and questioned by a guard. The process appeared quick and people were let go as soon as they passed inspection. Three identical men approached one of the guards. They had comically large muscles clearly showing through their too-small tank tops, one red, one blue and one green. The guard cast detect-magic. Red-shirt started trying to distract the guard, while Green-shirt attempted to intercept the magic. The effort was clumsy. The guard appeared agitated as Blue-shirt started to protest. Green-shirt started crying. Red-shirt simply satdownin defeat. The guard dispelled their glamour, and what remained where three boys, all wondering how much trouble they were in. The guard angrily dismissed them.


    She receded into the crowd a bit. Security was being thorough with their search and it wouldn''t be long before they were close enough to detect her disguise. They were pacing themselves evenly, leaving no room to slip between them. Even if she could do that, the crowd would eventually disperse leaving her standing alone as the only one who could not pass the perimeter check. The question of how long this particular spell would last. The magic felt strong, suggesting it would go on a good while, but a spell ending unexpectedly is how this escalated to this point. With the search getting closer, she calmed herself and made a plan to cross the border.


    ¡°Man,¡± she said to no one in particular, ¡°I sure could use a drink right now!¡± No response.She looked around at the surrounding people and cleared her throat.¡°A good ale certainly takes the edge off when I am stressed out! Am I right?¡±


    ¡°Certainly does!¡±The dark-skinnedman had long black hair braided downthe length ofhisback. He smiledwithtusks poking outfrom his lower lip frompointedear to pointed ear. She smiled back at him.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t we go get a drink?¡± she asked.


    ¡°That¡¯s a great idea!¡± her new friend responded. He turned to a short green tusked woman standing next to him. ¡°Want to get a drink,Jenks?¡±


    Brown pigtails bounced around her head as she shook it. ¡°Don¡¯t you think it¡¯s a little early to drink, Leeroy?¡±


    Pierce pointed at the sun that looked to be setting soon. ¡°If you moved that way really fast, the sun would actually rise instead of set.¡± She turned the other way. ¡°On the other hand, if you went that way, the sun would set faster. Now, I know a good spell that can take us that way, and we could sit down, and have ourselves a beer at the proper time.¡± She glanced at the Tavern. ¡°Or we can go over there, have ourselves some nice drinks, on me, of course, knowing full well that the time to be merry and celebrate the end of the day exists somewhere. Besides, I¡¯m sure any plans you had today are now ruined and what better way to eulogize a day like this than with a drink with your partner and some new friends?¡±


    Jenks nuzzled up against Leeroy. ¡°I guess it couldn¡¯t hurt to live a little.¡±


    ¡°Great!¡± Pierce looked around and addressed the other people in the vicinity. ¡°Anybody else?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll go!¡± Pierce looked down and saw a little man, no taller than she was before the change. He had no hair onhis round head. He wore glasses that enlarged his already large blue eyes. ¡°Name¡¯s Charles.¡±


    ¡°Glad to meet you, Charles.¡± Pierce extended a hand down to him. He grabbed it and gave it a firm shake.


    "How old are you?" Leeroy asked. Jenks gave him a soft smack on his shoulder. Charles cracked his neck as if ready to start a fight. Pierce was both annoyed and amused as the years had not been as kind to Charles as they had been to her. "Just kidding."


    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s funny,¡± hissed a new voice. The party of four turned toward a man with cat eyes and scaled skin. His tongue was narrow and forked which resulted in the hissing voice.


    ¡°I don¡¯t either,¡± Pierce blurted, clapping the newcomer on the back, ¡°Want to join us?¡±


    The snake-man considered for a moment before thoughtfully replying, ¡°Syd.¡± His face gave no sign of expression. Pierce took this as an affirmative.


    ¡°Welcome aboard!¡±


    Leeroy shook Syd¡¯s hand and patted Charlie on the head. Charlie was not amused. Jenks made a sign of apology toward Charlie for her partner. Finally, Leeroy asked of Pierce, ¡°Hey, Buddy, I''d like to know the name of our benefactor?¡±


    She paused for a second. She usually had a few aliases on hand. Her brain latched onto the last word that was said. ¡°Bennie,¡±she responded.


    The group assembled, they started making their way out of the crowd. Leeroy led, followed closely by Jenks. Charlie sat on Bennie¡¯s shoulders. Something she did partially to hide her head from any approaching guards. At the end was Syd, taking up the rear.


    When they emerged, the party shifted from a line to a gaggle as a towering guard approached them. Pierce was slightly amused by the fact that as Bennie she looked up to this woman as she often looked up to most other people. On her light blue robe, the vault insignia was visible, a gear icon with a keyhole in the middle. Underneath it read, "Georgette." The lady looked down at them. "I''m sorry, this will only take a moment, I just need to do a few simple things to make sure our suspect isn''t among you."


    Charles pointed at the image in the sky, ¡°None of us look like that, you overgrown mystic!¡±


    Even with Charles sitting on top of Bennie, the guard had to bend down to get to eye level. ¡°Well, I mean, you match the height!¡±


    "Do you hear this?!" Charles responded indignantly. He stretched up and moved his face closer to hers. Turning his face side to side, "Do you see pointed ears?" He then turned his head straight at her, and then bowed it a bit, keeping his eyes locked, "Do you see a ridged nose?" He started reaching for the lace on his pants, "And that up there is obviously a woman, a pretty one if I do say so myself!" Pierce blushed a little but maintained her composure. "Let''s see ifthismatches!¡±


    Georgette put her hand on Charles¡¯s hand to stop him from undoing his pants. ¡°That¡¯s quite all right. I¡¯m sorry, height is probably a sensitive area for both of us. We believe the thief has disguised herself using magic. Since no one has reported the spell stolen, she could look like anybody. Even the special parts.¡± She winked at Charles. ¡°It will only take a moment to cast this spell, and you guys can be on your merry way.¡±


    Charles was starting to throw Bennie off balance. Quick finger movements started manifesting a small yellow-white fuzzy ball that appeared in the guard''s hand. She snapped her fingers and the ball burst into tiny sparks that floated in the area. Bennie spun around clumsily and fell backward into Georgette, causing all three to spill into the ground. As she did so, Pierce was able to intercept the sparks delivering the knowledge to her instead of the intended target.


    Charles bounced up to his feet. He turned to the security guard and reached out to her. She looked at his hand, confused, and then took it. What followed was surreal, as Charles had nowhere near the height or mass to pull Georgette to a standing position. Yet, somehow that is exactly what happened. Bennie took a moment, as Pierce wasn''t used to getting up with such a massive body. She slowly got back up to her feet hoping that the guard was flustered enough not to notice their spell did not land. She let out a sigh of relief whenthe angry mage finally said, ¡°You can go.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± she said, ¡°ALE, BEER, WINE, WHATEVER YOU WANT! FIRST ROUND ON ME!¡± She yelled as the group proceeded to the Tavernonce again taking the shape of a line. This time with Bennie upfront.


    The Tavern had a sign hanging by two robust chains that read, fittingly, "The Tavern." There were two paned windows on either side of the door that allowed light in but didn''t allow much out. between those panels stood the big red door with a small window at eye level. Again, designed for people to see out, but not so much in.


    Bennieturned the knob and gave the door a small test pull. After carefully gauging the weight of the door to her current body strength, she pulled the door naturally and stepped aside to let her party in.First wereLeeroyand Jenks. Next Charleswent, followed bySyd. Finally, Bennie went in letting the door close behind him.


    Inside the Tavernwas mostlywood. The lighting was done byencased lanternsthat used free-flowingmagicprovided by the citytostay lit. Bennie pointed ata round table in the corner. Hethen walkedtothe barto set up payment. ¡°Excuse me,sir,¡± he said.


    ¡°Not sir, not ma-am,¡±said the slinky figure as they turned their attention towards Pierce. Their hair was shaved and their skin was slightly scalybut not the same as Syd¡¯s. They had two horns that had been cut off at the base and a ring in their nose. They were polishing a glass that was already clean, apparently trying to create the appearance of being busy. "You can call meEnby. What can I do for you?¡±


    Benniepulled a gold coin out ofhispocket and placed it on the table.Hetapped it nine times, each time the stack grew by one coin.Enbyslowed at polishing her glass, and then stopped completely.Benniethen proceeded to move the stack across the bar, first pulling it towardhim, leaving a duplicate behind and then pushing it back in a stack right next to the last.Healso repeatedthis actionnine times. In the end, a hundred gold coins were sitting on the bar.


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    Bennielooked up atEnby. ¡°My friends are over there, they are kind of thirsty, I promised I would take care of them. Will this do?¡±


    ¡°Yessir,this would more than do. A hundred silver coins could cover drinks for the five of you for hours. Theseare gold coins.¡±


    "I won''t say anything if you don''t. If you get me? It should also cover any trouble that may come my way.¡± The bartender placed their hands over the last stack of coins, where it collapsed into a single coin. The other stacks all disappeared leaving a second coin whereBenniehad originally placedhis signaling the transaction completed. ¡°I recommend waiting a few days before putting that in the books.¡±Enbynodded as they pocketed thehundred gold coin.


    ¡°Anything, Mister--?¡± They stretched out the last word waiting for a response.


    ¡°Wadentere.¡±Benniewinked and walked back to the table.Hehopedhisfacewascharming,and not creepy.


    Leeroy and Syd were talking about local politics."For a small fee paid with every purchased good,¡± Syd said, ¡°you can take any illness or injury to the local healing center and get it taken care of for free.¡±


    ¡°Thatjust feels like theft to me,¡± Leeroy responded. Jenks rolled her eyes.¡°I mean the local businessmen have to charge more, and they don¡¯t get to see the money. The city center takes it, and they did nothing to earn it. ¡°


    "Sure, you say that now, but wait until you take an arrow to the knee. Have you ever needed a major heal? That gets expensive in a heartbeat, even more, if you don''t have one! In the healing center that I worked at before I came here, I once saw a high healer resurrect a patient. And then watched that patient die again when they saw the bill. We had to leave them there because if he reacted that way to one resurrection, no way he could afford two." There was a chuckle from Charles as he listened to Syd''s story. "His wife couldn''t get the money together before a res spell was no longer viable. The worst part, she still had to pay the bill. Ended up selling her husband to a Necromancer."


    "Yeah but, what about people who don''t need heals. Healthy people, and those that can cast their magic? They get left paying for a service they would never use."


    ¡°Healthy isn¡¯t a permanent state of being. And just because one can cast their own magic doesn¡¯t mean they never need a spell cast for them. A serious injury can prevent them from completing a spell. They may not have a good supply of magic. And all in all, it gets annoying to have your friends and family ask you to fix all your scrapes and bruises.¡±


    Jenks let out a sigh, ¡°You remember the wyvern cavern, Leeroy?¡± His face started to redden as he heard his partner bring up one of his more embarrassing stories. ¡°I was cooking chicken while you were getting drunk. You thought one of the wyverns had taken your pants. You ran in there with a hammer screaming your name like some kind of idiot. Where were you pants, Leeroy?¡±


    Leeroy lowered his head in shame. In a low voice, he said, "around my ankles... where they fell after I peed in them..." His voice suddenly changed to a forced bright tone. ¡°Hey! Bennie is back!¡±


    Bennie¡¯s return was soon followed by a plump woman carrying the first round of drinks. Her face was sweaty and slightly dirty. Her sandy hair was pulled back with a bandana. She placed a round tray with five empty glasses. Each person reached for their glass. Leeroy¡¯s glass filled with foamy beer.Charlie''sglass changed to a shot glass and filled with clear liquor. Jenks decided she would have wine. Her cup transformed into the appropriate glassware when her hand touched it. Syd looked to actually be consuming nothing more than water. Bennie¡¯s glass also filled with a foamy liquid, but his was non-alcoholic root beer.


    "My name is Beatrice. I am your waiter for the day. If you need a refill, just place your glass on the tray and whatever you want will be taken care of. Try not to change drinks too often as the enchantment does to tend to act up after the third or fourth different thing. If you need a new glass or anything else, just say my name and I will be here. Please keep your pants on for the duration of your stay." She giggled a little, as did Jenks. Leeroy slunk a little deeper, before taking a huge gulp from his glass.


    ¡°Syd,¡± Bennie asked, ¡°you¡¯re a healer? Where did you work?¡±


    "Not a healer, although I am capable of small healing spells, capable of taking care of a small cut." Bennie looked at five small pearl spells floating around Syd''s wrist. Syd caught this glance and lifted his arm a bit, then set it back down. "No, my work was mostly administrative. The incident I mentioned took place inMalton, you ever been there?" Bennie nodded. "Had my first incident with a spell thief there too, maybe even the same one. She stole some healing spells from a member of the clergy. He did charity work with his spells but was strict on who he shared it with. I suppose after being rejected; she took it upon herself to acquire the spell."


    Bennie took a drink from his glass. ¡°She was probably pretty desperate.¡±


    Syd dipped his tongue into his water and blinked his eyes. "I suppose she was. I found out from people in town that the thief had been in there three days earlier asking for help with the Red. No one should die from the Red, ever. Did you know untreated Red can be weaponized into a plague with the rightmagic?¡±


    ¡°I do,¡± Bennie replied, ¡°do you wonder if the spell thief did?¡±


    ¡°I like to think so,¡± Syd reflected. ¡°evidence surfaced not long after that there was a plot to release the red plague upon the town ofMalton. That stolen spell might have saved the entire town. After that, I tried to change things. I couldn¡¯t, so I ended up leaving for where things are better.¡± Bennie wondered for a second if he should tell Syd that the tragedy wasn¡¯t averted, only postponed, then thought better of it.


    Jenks spoke up. ¡°Does anybody know what was stolen from the vault?That place holds some of the most dangerous artifacts in the world.¡±


    Bennie felt a little uncomfortable at that. He wasn''t sure what the item that had been taken did. When Pierce examined it earlier, there was only residual magic in the thing, nothing specific. It looked like it could be a staff head, and judging by the weight, probably packed a lot more juice than a standard oak piece.


    Charlie took a shot from his glass and placed it back on the tray. This would make his fifth shot. "I''m not worried about what was taken. I am worried about going to work tomorrow." He took a shot. "I work in a magic trinket shop. I make the trinkets and get them enchanted. When the news breaks, the shop will be flooded." He took another shot. "Everybody in town is going to want something to ward off a curse, and we don''t have the inventory for that. To make matters worse, most of our enchanters will probably be at the vault securing cursed items. "


    Jenks took a sip from her wine. ¡°Do you think we should be worried about curses?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, maybe.¡± Charlie took yet another shot. ¡°All I know is no trinket from my shop will protect you. Curses from the vault will be too much for any enchantment that we can muster. Not that I will be saying this tomorrow.¡± He switched his voice to a foe-pleasant tone that all good salesmen have. ¡°Yes, Mrs. Rosenblum, this is the very best enchantment. It can block any curse, even the scariest ones from the vault.¡± He took another shot.


    Bennie looked at Jenks. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t worry about it too much. If a cursed item was taken, they would have been more focused on containing it than catching the thief. You saw the words in the sky. ¡®Spell Thief.¡¯ It suggests they didn¡¯t break any protective enchantments.


    Leeroy put an arm around Jenks to try to comfort her. He took a drink from his beer to try to comfort himself. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    "Well, I''ve been around a bit. I''ve done work with security and curses. A spell thief is someone who has the ability to take magic for their own. A ward is very much like a lock to a door. You can open it with a key, in this case, a special spell. The person who places the ward also makes the key. It''s very difficult to duplicate without the original. The difference between a spell thief and a thief-thief is that a spell thief would have stolen the key to get past the ward, whereas a thief-thief would have to smash the lock. If the ward was unsealed with a key, it can easily be resealed, but if it was smashed, the ward has to be rebuilt from the ground up. That takes a lot of power and a lot of time. They said it was a spell thief. A guard had to be missing their keys and the ward was unsealed, not smashed, no doubt about it. And the ward can just be resealed, just like relocking a door." Bennie took a big drink out of his glass and placed it on the tray for a refill.


    It was getting late; darkness was thirty minutes away. The light coming fromtheoutside was growing redder and dimmer.Bennie finished his drink but did not put it back on the tray. Hereached intohispocket and pulled out four bottles. Each had a long stem and a round base. There was a cork stopper in the end to prevent leakage. The only difference was the tint; red glass, green glass, blue glass, and yellow glass.Heput the red one and the blue one away. Those two would be completely useless.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you got planned,¡± Leeroy remarked, ¡°but I think you should go with Stamina.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Bennie looked at the green bottle.


    ¡°Trying to rush through your problems makes more problems. I find it is best to outlast them. Take it from a guy who once ran into a wyvern cave with my pants around my ankles.¡±


    ¡°You have a point.¡± Bennie poured the green one into his glass, then placed his glass on the tray where it mixed with his drink. ¡°Marathon it is.¡±


    With a little bit of hesitation, Syd asked, ¡°IsMaltonokay.¡±


    The question was directed at Pierce and not Bennie. She considered the answer for a second. ¡°Malton... was never the target...¡± She wished she could pound a shot down like Charlie was, but she had to be sharp. She started considering her contact. He was described to her as a short round man with a pig head. His name wasHoggins. Pierce took a breath and returned to being Bennie.


    The door opened and two patrons entered the bar. One wasHoggins, who stepped aside and positioned himself by the door. There was a spell floating around him. It was predominantly black, but there was another color swirling around that kept changing slowly. Red to purple, to blue, to green, to yellow, to orange and back to red again. No matter what angle you saw it from, you were always looking inside, as the outside was perfectly transparent, and the inside was perfectly black. A portal spell, hopefully, one that would connect back to the lair of the employer.


    The other person was Georgette, the tall guard who had inspected them on the way in. She had to crouch get in the building. She moved with a strange conviction for someone who couldn¡¯t stand up straight inside the building. Bennie mused that with so much range of heights, buildings should be more accommodating. Charlie had been standing the whole time to avoid having the table at eye level. Georgette had mastered a quick hunched walk, which was certain to be standard in most domiciles and establishments.


    ¡°You know, I forgot to get your names for my report earlier,¡± she said, smiling down at them. She had positioned herself between the group and the door and settled in a squatting position. Bennie started going heavily for his drink. "You seem nervous, Mr...?"


    "Bennie." He tried to arrange his face in a charming formation, but without knowing his face, he could not tell if he was successful. "I''m just trying to catch up with Charlie here." He continued to drink, already halfway down the glass. Charlie, as if to provide support, took another shot and fired a huge grin in Georgette''s direction.


    ¡°And the rest of you?¡±


    ¡°This is my man, Leeroy.¡±


    ¡°And this is my girl, Jenks. We can vouch for each other¡¯s whereabouts all day.¡±


    "That won''t be necessary. And you are Syd, I''ve seen you at the hospital." Bennie consumed another quarter of his drink. Over or Under, he thought to himself. "I''ve got a funny story." She started moving her right-hand carefully. Magic started swirling around it. "You see after you guys passed out of the crowd, I checked some more people through." The swirl started to shape into a ball. "Each time, I would detect a handful of message spells. A detect-magic here or there." The ball started to get a yellowish color and grew tiny spikes. Bennie realized that Georgette thought she was being sly. Her hand gestures were so subtle that no one would notice. If it wasn''t for the ball of energy sitting it. "There were even a few dispel-magics. You know what I detected when I checked you guys?¡±


    Bennie took the last little bit of his glass and set it on the table. Everybody looked at Georgette in silence. Bennie chose under at this moment.


    ¡°Nothing. And the only way that is possible is if the spell was stolen from my hand as I cast it. Very good timing with your fall out there.¡± She squeezed the spell in her hand causing it to pop a brilliant light. Pierce was back to being Pierce again. Before anybody had a chance to register what happened, Pierce tumbled off her chair and did a summersault between the legs of the towering Georgette. Leeroy was the only one shocked at this transformation. Charlie let out an angry laugh as he pounded down one last shot.


    Pierce made a lot of ground while Georgette fell victim to her distraction. The befuddlement did not last long, and Georgette snapped around quickly closing the gap almost instantly. She reached out and managed to lay hands on the robe of the fleeing thief.People watched in anticipation waiting for Pierce to snap back and tumble into captivity.


    A cloak can have up to five enchantments. The most common thing to have augmented on a cloak is to have the pockets enchanted. There is a simple version that simply prevents things from falling out. A more sophisticated enchantment required a unique key, locking to the pockets to the owner, much like the wards in the vault.


    Invisibility seems like an obvious choice for thieves, but it isn''t a common choice. An invisibility spell is easy enough to obtain, and one can be purchased off the black market like Pierce did if one doesn''t want to leave a trail. Hiding isn''t as much about not being seen as it is not being noticed, or recognized. This is why trans-chromaenchantment was the choice for Pierce.


    While it would be unwise to underestimate Pierce''s athletic ability, she does usually go with a little help. Her cloak is enchanted with the ability to lighten her up a little bit to help her jumps achieve mind-boggling jumps. It also has an adaptiveslow-fallthat allows short-distance gliding if the need to arrive. To keep her cool while achieving these feats, Pierce''s cloak has thermal control. While it struggles to keep up in extremes, her cloak keeps her comfortable in a wide range of temperatures.


    At this moment, the single most important enchantment is the snag-less coating. It was one that was so important, she made sure enchantment was the highest quality she could find. No thief wants to get caught in a door or snag a nail on a hot escape. And for many, this is reason enough to avoid a cloak with a long trail. Everybody in the Tavern of Port City watched as an imposing woman grabbed tightly the cloth trailing behind this minuscule bandit expecting basic tug of war rules to apply. The cloth seemed to have a mind of its own as it unwrapped itself from the iron grasp of those monumental hands and slipped away nearly frictionless. Georgette fell backward as she pulled against the expected weight that wasn''t there.


    Pierce finished her dash across the room. She grabbed theHoggins¡¯skneeand allowed the portal spell to flow into her while opening the door. The victory was short-lived. When the door closed behind her, Pierce saw a security force in wait.They rangedin height fromtwo feettofifteen feet. Their features ranged from pretty standard to cloven hooves, horns, and tusks. None of them had any magic prepped, limiting their options to hot-casting. This is a common practice when dealing with a spell thief.


    Pierce did a backflip touching the tavern wall just above the door. She bounced off and grabbed on to the hanging tavern sign. Kicking her legs forward, she managed to flip herself from the sign onto the roof. She turned her attention to a tube feeding magic from the town center to the tavern. Her hand touched the tube, pulling a small amount of magic out of it in preparation for hot-casting. With the balance of a cat,shestarted running the wire-like pipe with uncanny speed and grace. Her fingers started moving with rapidity like playing an invisible instrument. The first attempt grew and then fizzled. The second one completely sparked out. She shook her hand in frustration then returned to casting.


    While some wizards chose to scale the Tavern behind her, some completing feats that made Pierce¡¯s jump look clumsy, others were down belowho-casting levitation and flight spells.Theydrew magic out of their staves, scepters, and wands to fuel their spells. The advantage thethiefhad was that casting these spells took a bit of time, but once the spells were cast, they would be able to catch up quickly.


    Pierce successfully prepped dispel magic. Any minute now, a wave of high-flying mages would be surrounded, and this was her best defense. She had two more before she exhausted the magic she had taken from the tube, making a total of three. Getting more would take her focus off of where it needed to be, running to the town center.


    She could tell from the wobble that mages were chasing her on the wire. She could hear in the air the firstblastsof levitatespells.Flight magic takesa bit longertocast,but it won¡¯tbe far behind.A rushing sound came behind her a split second before feeling an impact of stasis spell hit her back. She quickly popped the dispel before it could take hold and dropped down catching the wire at the last second. Another stasis flew by overhead. Shegave the wire a sharp tugand flung herself backonto the tightrope.She turned to see what was going on behind her. Three mages were standing on the wire. Two were struggling to regain their balance after the vibration she just made caught up to them. She made a jumping motion on the wire amplifying the wave. The two mages lost their battle and fell. The third,unphased, threw a stasis spell. Pierce ducked.


    The few levitators had reached the height of the Tavern. Theypositionedthemselvesto block theretreat.The first of the flyers took to the sky.Any moment now they would blockher advanced.Two dispels left, she had to makethem count.


    She turned her attention toward the remaining mage standing on the line. Her face washed with determination. She knew what she was about to do was theoretically possible, but she had never attempted it. The mage moved down the line like a squirrel. He paused briefly sensing Pierce¡¯s resolve. He stood up and flashed a brief smile revealing fanged teeth. He managed to conjure another stasis spell with little effort. Pierce blinked once and the mage let the incantation go.


    The spell left the casters hand and flew through the air with a whoosh and a crackle. The drinking party had exited the Tavern and were observing the spectacle above. Along with Georgette, they had been joined by the security that had fallen earlier. The levitators had mostly gathered on the roof of the Tavern. The second flyer had just left the ground as the first moved into position behind Pierce. A gust of wind blew. The mage¡¯s bowl cut hair blew across his face. Pierce¡¯s cloak flapped in the wind. Everybody waited for Pierce to dodge.


    When the spell was within a foot of Pierce¡¯s face, she reached up and snatched it out of the air. Before the effect started to go off, she crushed it in her hand. It moved into her arm as she swung her other arm forward. The stasis spell emerged from her hand, and before anybody else realized what had just happened, the mage was falling off thewire, frozen by his spell.


    She didn''t allow herself more than a second to celebrate turning around to see a flying blue monkey. This guard had just finished preparing her stasis spell but had second thoughts about casting it. Pierce resumed her run; the mage flew to intercept. Not even pausing to aim, she tossed her dispel at this next obstacle. The spell connected rendering the furry woman flightless. The second flyer altered their trajectory to catch the first, careful not to stop the target abruptly.


    She made it to the roof of the town center, the tallest place in all of Port City. It only took a minute for a flying security guard to appear. Pierce took note that they had decided to ready a second flying spell for backup. As the mage made a direct charge at her, she leaped into the air, twisting around so she can land on the back of the flyer. The flying magic spun around its host and then started to move up her arm, but instead of transferring completely, it went back to its original master.


    Flying through the air gaining altitude, the mage twisting and turning rapidly. Pierce lost her grip and slip down to the other¡¯s legs. She clawed herself back up the torso of the flyer. Again, she focused and tried to bring the flying spell over to her. This time the magic flowed freely from one person to the other.


    Pierce wasted no time casting the spell, feeling herself suddenly go weightless. She then pushed the dispel into her partner and felt them gain back all their weight. She flew down low dropping off the unwanted ballast at a height where injury wouldn''t be a concern. She then rose straight into the sky and then flew away to safety.


    After a minute of flying, with no signs of being followed, she landed in an empty ally. She looked again at the portal magic she took. The black was unnerving. It was blacker than any black she had ever seen. The spell went into her hand, where it reshaped into a piece of chalk. She outlined on the wall in the shape of a door. The drawing became real.


    She opened the door to what appeared to be a small grove of apple trees inside a building. Beyond what had the appearance of an indoor park, there appeared to be bookshelves as far as the eye could see. She walked in. A wave of dizziness came over her, and she fell to the floor. ¡°Stamina blowback,¡± were her last thoughts before she fellunconscious.

 Chapter 2: Rolling Dice

    A small polyhedral dice bounced across the table making a distinctive plink sound with each impact. It came to a rest with a small rumble. ¡°Twenty!¡± Exclaimed a dark-skinned man with black hair wearing a pair of glasses. ¡°Good job!¡±


    A woman with buzzed short hair picked the d-20 up and examined it. One eye was a foggy white with a mechanical lens. There was a white scar that ran from her eyebrow down her cheek through the lost eye. ¡°Are we really going to let Jaye roll her own dice? I mean, can¡¯t she do this every time.¡± She took the dice and handed over to a gold and silver android with a shapely female figure. ¡°Can you do it again?¡±


    Jaye looked down at the dice. Her head was shaped to give the appearance of short bob haircut. Her face was made of a high-resolution display currently displaying an angry red background with simplistic semi-circles for eyes giving the impression of glairing. She looked back toward the spectacled man. "Alan, you said I could roll dice!'' she said indignantly.


    Alan smiled at her displaying showing off his decent but soda damaged teeth. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I got your back. Kimiko is cautious by nature, it¡¯s in her job description. She is the captain of security. Roll the dice again, Jaye. Make it come up twenty.¡±


    She threw the dice again. Her precise motor movements and predictive algorithms ensured that once again the dice showed a twenty. Kimiko propped her head up with her right fist opposite her scar. ¡°Can I demonstrate the game protocol now?¡± Jaye asked. Her face turned a light orange color, and her eyes turned into wide full circles. Alan gave a nod. "Understanding that randomness is part of the fun, Alan and I worked on a gaming protocol for any game that requires dice. Utilizing true-random to create variations in my movement patterns, I can achieve the modal precision of a human person. I can still predict the outcome, but only once the dice have left my hand." She rolled the dice again, hoping that it would not come up twenty. It bounced until it ended on two. "Kimiko, is the cyborg satisfied with the android''s performance?"


    Kimiko blushed, knowing her abilities were comparable in many ways to Jayes. She watched everything carefully taking in the smallest detail. She took a moment to process what she saw. Reviewing it, there were indeed very minute tremors in Jaye¡¯s movement to contribute to randomness. ¡°I¡¯m satisfied. Chekhov, are you?¡±


    A smiling woman poked her head out from behind a trifold screen. She had unnaturally bright red hair braided in a ponytail. Cosmetic genetic therapy was used to produce this color. She began flipping through a notebook stuffed with random sheets of loose paper. "To be honest, I was on board from the beginning. Always welcome a new player, hopefully, we can make a challenge for ya.¡±


    To Chekhov¡¯s left sat a bald man with a well-groomed white mustache cleaning a pair of glasses. He was wearing a lite-blue lab-coat with a name tag that read, ¡°Dr. Wade Rosenberg, Project Lead.¡± He put his glasses on his face, making his eyes slightly larger. ¡°This will be fun... and interesting.¡± He said.


    Chekhov pulled a piece a paper from her pile and handed it to Jaye. "I took the liberty of creating a character for you. I understand that building your character is part of the fun, however, I didn''t think it would be easy for you to avoid your character from being broken and overpowered. Alan made some of these suggestions and we both think you will have some fun.¡±


    ¡°What will I be playing?¡±


    ¡°You will be a barbarian, a berserker. Someone who fights with rage, and impulse. Someone who lets their emotions lead their choices.¡± Chekhov straitened the papers in her notebook by tapping them on the table.


    ¡°Can your simulated emotions do the heavy-lifting of decision making?¡± asked Rosenberg, once again polishing his glasses.


    She began reading over the sheet handed to her. ¡°It¡¯s a bit old hat to suggest simulated emotions aren¡¯t as good as real emotions. Logic and reason are great for solving problems, but they can¡¯t tell us which ones to solve or why we solve them. Hume''s guillotine. You cannot answer an ¡®ought¡¯ question with an ¡®is'' question.¡± Her face was white with a hint of orange. She looked at Rosenberg with her tall oval eyes. After an uncomfortable stare, she blinked them by making them into horizontal lines then back into ovals. Jaye sat the piece of paper down in front of her. ¡°I think this will be fun.¡±


    Chekhov¡¯s face turned slightly red. It wasn¡¯t very noticeable against her hair, but Jaye¡¯s visual acuity picked it up. There was a small silence while Chekhov decided how to respond. She let out a loud laugh and slapped the table. ¡°Awesome! We are growing! Maybe someday Iris would join us, eh?¡±


    Kimiko shook her head. ¡°I doubt she would want to join us. Giving up her advantage isn¡¯t in her nature, and she doesn¡¯t... people... well, at least since the incident.¡± She gave air quotes around the word people.


    Rosenberg pulled out a folder and opened it. He lay a sheet of paper on the table in front of him. "It''s a shame, making friends might do her some good. Play some games, relax once in a while. I mean, how else is she going to trust again?"


    ¡°Last time she made friends, they all tried to kill her,¡± Kimiko said grimly. Wade sunk into his chair a little. He removed his glasses and began wiping them vigorously. ¡°I was with her when she stabbed her bestie. I think we should be glad I get out some. As far as games go, we play Paper, Rock, Scissors.¡± Kimiko did the hand motions as she spoke this.


    Dr. Rosenberg continued rubbing his glasses, careful not to make eye contact with Kimiko. The sound of cloth on glass was the only thing that could be heard for a few seconds. Jaye, sensing the discomfort, finally broke the silence. ¡°I believe it is called Rock, Paper, Scissors.¡± Kimiko glared at her, then let out a boisterous laugh. Alan and Chekhov soon joined her. Rosenberg put his glasses back on and sat up straight in the chair.


    ¡°Come to think of it,¡± Kimiko giggled, ¡°my mother called it Jan-Ken-Pon. I don¡¯t know where I picked up this, ¡®paper, rock, scissors¡¯ from. Maybe Iris knows.¡± She sighed to quell the laughter.


    Chekhov pulled a large pencil box out from under the table and set it down in front of her. It had her name ¡°Sara¡± painted on it with what was probably nail polish. She removed some chess pawns and began placing them in the center of the table forming a ring. Alan, at Chekhov¡¯s direction, placed a small carved figure of a thief holding a dagger in the center. A large black key in the pencil box caught Jaye¡¯s attention. Rosenberg gestured at the key. ¡°Is that...?¡±


    ¡°Emtonium? Yes, it is.¡± She held it up in the air. Her hands strained with the weight. The key was too large to be functional, more like a ceremonial key to the city that one would put on display. With a single fin, it wouldn¡¯t be opening any secure locks. The grip consisted of three circles making a clover shape. ¡°I was going to bring it up to you after the game. This key operates as the failsafe you asked me for.¡± Jaye and Dr. Rosenberg both acknowledged this. Captain Shiro started listening with increased interest. ¡°Alan helped me infuse this with nano-tech. If this goes through the bridge, it will seize up after a short delay. Obviously, I took liberties with the design.¡±


    Kimiko reached out to the key with wonder. Sara passed it on to her. Kimiko¡¯s hand dropped quickly as she took the full weight of the key. ¡°How did you shape it?¡± She held it in front of her face and examined it closely.


    ¡°It¡¯s like blowing glass. You keep it at the right energetic state and you can shape it into whatever you want.¡±


    ¡°Can you show me sometime?¡±


    ¡°If you can acquire the necessary emtonium.¡±


    Jaye held out her hand. Kimiko passed it to her so she could inspect. Jaye did not struggle to hold it as the other two had, but was still somewhat surprised by the weight. Emtonium has a density ten times higher than silver giving the object weight comparable to a heavy book. The craftmanship on the key was impressive. Jaye passed the key back to Sara while looking at Kimiko. ¡°Colonel Iris should be able to approve that, provided you give her sound reason. Personally, I would like to know if different shapes have different uses.¡±


    Kimiko nodded. "I just want to add ¡®Emtonium Crafter¡¯ to my resume.¡± She laughed a little as she said this.


    Sara placed the key back in her pencil box. She pulled out a set of dice ranging from specially made two-sided dice made of two extended ovals wrapped around each other to a hundred-sided dice that looked like a golf ball. "Recap, Alan''s rogue, Geist, was stealing the Jewel, alarms went off. Geist abandoned the Jewel, which was within his grasp, and ran where he wound up here." She pointed to Alan''s figure surrounded by six white pawns. "The guards managed to catch up to him and surround him. Kimiko''s cleric, Thorde, was standing on this stage, trying to distract the towns-people with a sermon." She pointed toward a box drawn on the table with a wet-erase marker. Kimiko set her figure there, a robed man who appeared to be yelling. Chekhov placed eight brown pawns in front of the ''stage.'' "Wade''s warrior, Cracken, was in the pub getting faced." She pointed at another large box drawn on the board. Wade placed his figure in the box. It was a stout bearded man with a beer in one hand and a hammer in the other. "With all this in mind, Jaye, can you tell me where you might want to start?


    Jaye looked at her character sheet again. She had already committed the information to memory, but she often made small performances like these to make people more comfortable. She looked over the board. She considered for a moment being in the bar with ¡®Cracken¡¯ as she felt this suited the character. She also considered that ¡®Geist¡¯ was in trouble and probably could use a hand. She then pointed at one of the white pawns. ¡°Can I be that person?¡±


    ¡°Interesting choice, can you tell me how you got there?¡±


    She focused her attention on the sheet. She tried to put herself into the mindset of ''Gwen'', the character on her sheet. Again, she considered the tavern her most likely place of origin. "Were there any guards near here?" she asked pointing at the bar.


    Chekhov rolled her d-20 behind the screen. She studied the result for a second before looking back at Jaye and nodded. ¡°I believe that is something that could be true.¡±


    Jaye¡¯s face, already a light shade of orange, turned slightly brighter. ¡°Okay, I was here having a pint. I heard some alarms going off, and I felt the need to fight. I came out, knocked a guard distracted by the commotion unconscious and stole their clothes.¡± She slammed her right fist into her left hand as she said this to add emphasis to the knocking the guard out.¡±


    ¡°Hmm, that¡¯s interesting. Any thoughts?¡±


    Kimiko looked in Rosenberg¡¯s direction. ¡°Funny how some random berserker would respond to the alarms faster than our fearless leader.¡±


    ¡°There is crime going on,¡± Wade rebutted, ¡°I don¡¯t want to be implicated. Besides, I am only on my third beer!¡±


    ¡°You should roll to see if you are drunk,¡± Chekhov said, pointing at his dice.


    Rosenberg''s dice were special crystal shapes with numbers on each side. He spun it on the table like a top. "When do you think the refreshments will arrive?" The dice continues to spin for a few seconds before landing on three.


    Chekhov looked down at the dice, then without moving her head, looked in Rosenberg¡¯s eyes. ¡°You¡¯re drunk. And I don¡¯t know, we ordered ahead of time, they should have here by now.¡±


    Alan picked up a rulebook that had been sitting in front of Jaye. ¡°The printers have been running slow lately. They need to be cleaned and tuned up.¡± He begins flipping through the pages of the book.


    Kimiko was shaking her figure like a maraca while mouthing the word ¡°repent¡± on each beat. She stopped suddenly and looked at Alan. ¡°That¡¯s a hell of a security risk.¡±


    ¡°I know. Iris is monitoring material usage very closely. She has reported the issue up the chain." Alan turned the page of the book backward, holding the paper in his hand so he could go back and forth quickly. "We won''t be able to bring in new people, or repurpose drones until after the experiment." He flipped the book forward again. "I''m not sure how I am going to get out of this, so I really don''t have much objection to Jaye being there."


    Jaye looked toward Alan with a bright yellow face. ¡°How do you know I am there to protect you. I am just looking for a fight, I may want to crush your little rogue man,¡± she giggled.


    Chekhov removed one of the pawns. She handed Jaye a hand-carved figure of a brute painted with green skin and red eyes. "I think I am curious enough about how this will play out to allow it."


    Jaye took the figure. ¡°This is nice craftmanship.¡± She placed the figure where the pawn was formerly. ¡°I¡¯m impressed you make these without digital aid.¡±


    Chekhov¡¯s usual smile grew bigger. ¡°Thank you, however a lot of the work on that one was done by my apprentice, Kimiko.¡± She gestured toward Kimiko who gave an embarrassed smile.


    Jaye placed her carved figure on the table where Chekhov had removed the pawn. Chekhov looked over at Alan who was still flipping between the two pages with increased agitation. ¡°Do you know what you want to do?¡± She asked. ¡°Or do you want to ¡®continue assessing your options¡¯?¡±


    Jaye held her hand out to Alan. He closed the book and placed it on her palm. She quickly flipped through the pages and found what she was looking for. She matched the face on her figure to her own and said, ¡°DEFEND YOURSELF, ROGUE!¡± She then pointed at the page.


    Alan took the book from her, looking at the page she was gesturing to. He looked at her confused for a second, then started reading the passage. ¡°Okay, I would like to engage in full defense,¡± he declared at last. ¡°I get bonus points to any defense, but I can¡¯t take any other action.¡± There was a collective sigh of relief from the table.


    ¡°That was a little out of sequence meta gaming,¡± Chekhov snarked, ¡°but I will allow it.¡±


    "Repent! Repent!" Yelled Kimiko. "The king''s face is an ugly one and all those who look upon it shall repent!" Confusion swept across Rosenberg''s face. Sara laughed a little. Jaye turned her head, keeping the face of her avatar.


    ¡°Care to explain to the class?¡± Chekhov asked.


    "I am trying to distract the guard, disparaging the king is a crime in this town. Maybe some of the guards look to me." She held her hands, palm up and gave an exaggerated shrug.


    "Okay, you should roll the dice. Let''s see what happens." Chekhov put a hand across her face and tilted her head as if she was telling everyone a secret. "Hint, it would probably have to be pretty high since theft is a higher crime than insulting the king. "


    Kimiko popped the twenty-sided dice out of her hand like tossing a treat to a dog. It bounced on the center of the table coming up thirteen. ¡°Then you add my persuasion skill of three, I end up at sixteen.¡±


    ¡°It was religious in nature; don¡¯t you have a bonus for religion-based persuasion?¡± Rosenberg asked.


    Chekhov gave Rosenberg a friendly glare. Kimiko laughed. ¡°You know, you¡¯re right. How does eighteen sound.¡±


    Chekhov redirected her glair at Kimiko and narrowed her eyes. She rolled some dice behind her screen. ¡°You have managed to distract...¡± With her index finger pointed down, she spun her hand around pointing at all the pawns on the table. She picked up the one that was closest to Thorde on the table. ¡°This one!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take it,¡± Kimiko quipped grabbing her dice from the table.


    Rosenberg moved his statue just outside the tavern. ¡°I think I will chuck my beer at one of the guards.¡±


    Chekhov leaned toward Rosenberg with her head cradled in her hand. ¡°What happened to ¡®not being implicated?¡¯¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m drunk! Down with the monarchy. Those fascist guards harassing that poor girl. Someone ought to help her.¡± He pulled back his lips in a grin revealing his perfect not-original teeth.


    "Isn''t there supposed to be more structure than this?" Jaye interjected. "We just kind of seem to randomly be throwing out ideas."


    ¡°Eh, structure, who needs it?¡± Chekhov waved off the suggestion. There was an audible whoosh as the door behind Alan opened. A flat drone cart came in carrying an array of refreshments. In the center was a large plate of tortilla chips placed in a circular pattern. In the center was a small dish that held a ball of cheese that bubbled and melted. Next to the plate was a bowl full of cheese puffs. There were four glasses each containing had jelly spheres in them. Three were brown, while one was clear. ¡°Refreshments!¡±


    A mechanical hand with rhythmic moment grabbed each glass and placed them in front of their recipients. The first one went to Alan with the light brown sphere in it. He gave it a light shake and the jell liquified slowly. There were a couple of plinks as the glass filled up with a bubbling iced beverage. When Chekhov got hers, she was slightly more exuberant with her shake. The jell dissolved quickly; bubbles started to overtake the glass rising to the top threatening to spill over. She started chugging quickly, trying to consume faster than it grew. There was a sigh of relief from Kimiko when the bubbles started to recede without excessive spillage. Rosenberg, who was agitating his drink, let out a laugh that was quickly adopted by the rest of the group.


    Rosenberg took a sip and placed his glass back on the table. ¡°Where were we? Oh, I was throwing my drink at the guards.¡±


    Chekhov had acquired a towel from the serving drone and was using it to clean stray liquid from her accident. ¡°Pick one to target, and roll your dice. You have to take a penalty because you are drunk.¡±


    He pointed at the pawn closest to him. ¡°Um, actually, because I am drunk, I will be using Drunken Brawler, which gives a bonus.¡± He picked up his crystal and prepared to spin it.


    "Um, actually," Chekhov wobbled her head, satirizing Rosenberg''s know it all tone, "you are throwing the glass. Brawling is an up-close and personal action. You don¡¯t get a bonus.¡±


    Rosenberg was holding his dice on the table like a paper football, preparing to give it a good flick. ¡°Oh,¡± he intoned. ¡°Well, then...¡±


    ¡°You called it; you roll it.¡±


    Rosenberg let out a sigh and flicked his dice. It started spinning on the table, falling flat shortly after it began. ¡°Ten,¡± he said solemnly. ¡°My skill level and de-buff cancel each other out. So... Just ten.¡±


    Chekhov took a deep breath. ¡°I have good news and bad news,¡± she said matter-of-factly. ¡°The bad news is, you did not hit anyone. The good news is, you managed to distract your guard and he is looking at you now.¡±


    ¡°Oh, goody.¡± He rubbed his hands in together in anticipation.


    Chekhov grabbed a chip off the plate and dipped it into the now puddled cheese. ¡°Jaye, let¡¯s see what you got.¡±


    Jaye picked up her character sheet and went through the motions of considering her action. ¡°So according to this, when enraged, I can wield anything up to a large tree trunk as a club? Is that correct?¡± Chekhov nodded. Jaye pointed at the guard closest to Gwen. ¡°Is he larger than a tree trunk?¡±Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Chekhov smiled. ¡°I like the way you think. This will be impressive...if you roll it.¡±


    Jaye rolled her gold d-20. It bounced across the table, coming to a standstill with a silver eighteen on top. Chekhov observed the dice, chewing the chip she had just shoved in her mouth. She gave Jaye a quick nod. Jaye pointed at the pawn next to her and moved her hand to the pawn next in line. She rolled her dice again. This time it landed on fifteen.


    Chekhov rolled a dice behind her screen. She gave Jaye a thumbs up. ¡°Share with the rest of the class what just happened.¡±


    ¡°Harkening back to my days as a wrestler, I picked up this guy by his legs and swung him around into this guy.¡±


    ¡°Harkening?¡± Alan asked laughing.


    Jaye looked at him. ¡°Harkening,¡± she repeated seriously. ¡°Also, according to my character sheet, once per battle I can intimidate on any successful attack. Can I do that now?¡±


    "You are pushing it a little. I will allow it, however.¡±


    Jaye spun the dice in the air one more time. She knew what it would be the second it left her hand, no longer able to affect the outcome. The dice bounced on the table several times. Alan took a drink of his soda. Kimiko watched every movement carefully. A smile came across her face. ¡°That is a legitimate roll,¡± she said as It came to a rest on twenty.


    Alan swallowed his drink quickly in an attempt not to spit it out. ¡°Your first real crit! Guaranteed success. How does it feel?¡±


    ¡°The chance of coming up twenty is identical to the other nineteen numbers,¡± she said seriously. Her face was a bright orange even though she was trying to get it as gray as possible. ¡°We only attach emotional significance to this because it¡¯s the highest number.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Alan said placing a cheese puff in his mouth, ¡°I completely believe that. You know that number means something awesome is about to happen. ¡°


    ¡°She¡¯s just playing into stereotypes for humor,¡± Rosenberg said. He lets out a deep sigh and turned to Chekhov. ¡°What happens?¡±


    Jaye responds, ¡°Get out of here Fascist Thugs!¡±


    "And that they do. The club stand-in releases his bowels and runs away. The one heading toward Thorde¡¯s congregation decides to find religion instead, kneeling in the crowd. The one thinking about busting in Cracken''s head is now thinking of getting a drink, and all the rest scatter." Chekhov said. She moved all the pawns off of the board.


    Rosenberg turned his head to the side and fiddled with his ear. ¡°I was kind of hoping there would be some fight here.¡±


    Jaye''s orange faded quickly to a blueish white. She showed Chekhov on her character sheet under ¡®flaws¡¯ where it said ¡°Looking for a fight.¡± Chekhov nodded, and Jaye nodded back at her.


    "Alan, how do you think your character responded to this excitement?"


    Alan chewed the cheese puff and took a sip of his drink. "I don''t know, I think I would be scared, but so far it seems my reaction to fear is to freeze. That''s it, I am frozen in fear. Maybe considering my actions."


    ¡°Sounds good to me. Kimiko?¡±


    Kimiko took her figure and moved it into her subjects. "I would like to cast an extra site spell on the guard who joined my congregation. And can I make a suggestion?" Chekhov nodded. She mimicked a whispering action. "Keep your eye on the king''s jewels.¡±


    Alan laughed, ¡°I hope he interprets that in the way you intended.¡±


    Kimiko looked at Chekhov. ¡°Don¡¯t give the GM any ideas.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Kimiko, I don¡¯t need Alan to give me ideas.¡± She let out a wicked laugh. ¡°Rosenberg, your turn.¡±


    Rosenberg rubbed the inside of his nose, pushing his glasses up slightly. ¡°I guess I walk over to our new star player and offer a greeting.¡±


    ¡°Drunkenly, of course,¡± Chekhov adds.


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    "Can you go ahead and roll a dice, please?"


    Rosenberg rolled his eyes at her and then tossed his dice on the table. It came up seven. ¡°How¡¯s that?¡± he asked with disinterest in his voice.


    ¡°Not quite good enough, you stumble and fall into our new guest.¡±


    ¡°Sounds about right,¡± said Rosenberg, unamused.


    Jaye looks down at the table. ¡°I¡¯m under attack! I try to grab him and throw him down.¡± Rosenberg was startled by the volume of Jaye¡¯s voice. Jaye rolled her dice. Kimiko squinted her eyes skeptically as she watched the dice settled on three. She looked at Jaye and then back at the dice. She gave her head a single shake.


    ¡°Look like¡¯s there¡¯s a bit of a tussle,¡± Alan remarked. ¡°My character takes a step away.¡±


    "I move within casting range," Kimiko said. "Get him Cracken!¡±


    ¡°Rosenberg, you and the newcomer are locking in kind of a lazy grapple. Neither one of you has the advantage. There is intense rage coming off the berserker''s face, and you would assume they intend to do you harm. Mind you, you are drunk, and just got short-changed the chance to get into a brawl with some guards.¡±


    Rosenberg brightened a little bit. ¡°I want to see if I can get the advantage in the grapple.¡± He gave his dice a real spin this time. ¡°Seventeen!¡±


    "Drunken Brawler and strength bonus make that twenty-three." Jaye rolled her dice for defense. Kimiko observed this roll with more scrutiny. The dice came up with a sixteen. "With your bonuses that is sixteen. Cracken takes control of the scrum.¡±


    ¡°I give Thorde a nod, and start getting bets from any surrounding people,¡± Alan said.


    ¡°I get the nod, and I do the same.¡±


    The battle, that in the game world would take only a minute, lasted for twenty minutes of roll time. Jaye and Rosenberg sunk deep into their characters. At first, they fought out of anger. Cracken taking on Rosenberg¡¯s frustration, and Jaye accepting Gwen¡¯s rage. They traded blows and stayed pretty even. Kimiko watched each one of Jaye¡¯s rolls with scrutiny and confusion. Alan egged the whole thing on. Geist cheered on Cracken, but Alan cheered on Jaye.


    When both characters were sitting at their last few hit-points, the fight started to come to a close. ¡°This has been quite a fight,¡± a lively Rosenberg said. ¡°Pity I will have to end it.¡±


    ¡°Not if I end it first!¡± Jaye said triumphantly. ¡°I tackle Cracken to the ground in an attempt to pin him.¡± She rolls her dice. Kimiko once again watches every movement that is made by the android. Her eyes widen in shock as the dice begins to tumble. ¡°...One...¡± Her voice was deadpan, but the careful listener could tell she was not upset about this outcome.


    ¡°You try to tackle Grom. You slip and faceplant in front of him. There is a tearing sound as your pants rip.¡±


    Pink floods Jaye¡¯s face. A round of laughter bounds through the table. ¡°I tap the ground twice and spit out the words ¡®I surrender¡¯ through the dirt on my mouth.¡±


    ¡°I offer my hand to the newcomer and help them up,¡± Rosenberg said. ¡°I clap him on the back, and say, ¡®Well fought. How about joining me for a pint in the tavern?¡¯¡±


    "All right! Let''s get pissed! Oh, and uh, by the way, Gwen is a ''her''"


    ¡°Good, good. Hey, Thorde, do you think we can get some heals.¡±


    ¡°Ha, I¡¯ve used all my magic for the day. You are going to have to rest it up.¡± Kimiko stood up and stretched. She clapped Jaye on the shoulder. ¡°That was some interesting rolling there. I expected some higher numbers to pop up.¡±


    ¡°Game protocol prevents me from controlling the outcome. We went over this at the beginning of the game. I am here for fun and socialization, not to win.¡±


    ¡°I forget you aren¡¯t Colonel Iris sometimes.¡± She walks around to the food table and grabs a handful of nachos. ¡°Thorde will join Cracken and Gwen in the tavern after distributing the winnings.¡±


    ¡°Geist is going to get off the streets before he gets noticed, and ponder his failures,¡± Alan said holding a cheese puff in the air. ¡°Hey, Rosenberg, I¡¯ve always meant to ask you. How does printed food compare with the original?¡±


    Rosenberg laughed. "Well as far as cheese puffs and nachos go, there isn''t much difference. The sodas, on the other hand, are quite the same as when we had brands competing for our dollar." He took a sip from his drink. ¡°Although it¡¯s close enough that I don¡¯t think it¡¯s missing something. However, a printed steak cannot compete with the real thing made from beef.¡±


    ¡°Maybe if you guys didn¡¯t enjoy steak so much,¡± Kimiko opined, ¡°we wouldn¡¯t spend most of our lives living in bunkers like this one.¡±


    ¡°I was too young to make any of those decisions. I think the world was borked by the time I was born. Besides, it¡¯s the Rogues that keep us in these bunkers these days.¡±


    "I''ve heard rumors that the Rogues are on their last leg," Alan said, taking a drink. "There is supposedly only one left, and the Generals are waiting for an act of aggression so they can eliminate them once and for all."


    ¡°No comment,¡± Kimiko said.


    Chekhov looked at her curiously. ¡°Do you know something?¡±


    "If I did, I couldn''t tell you guys. You don''t have the clearance. Alan can spout internet rumors all day, I cannot confirm or deny any of them." Jaye watched Kimiko closely as she said this. Kimiko''s biorhythm was tightly controlled, but Jaye had enough experience reading it. Kimiko seemed to both confirm Alan''s rumors but hint at something that troubled her. Kimiko looked at Jaye. "If you have anything to say about that, I would appreciate it if you kept it to yourself, at least as long as I was in the room."


    ¡°I understand your wishes,¡± Jaye responded. ¡°I will comply. Perhaps we should cease this conversation. The Colonel will know if she betrays her trust. We are fairly good at picking out dishonesty amongst familiar people.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Jaye. I appreciate your consideration.¡± Jaye could tell there is something Kimiko wants to the group. ¡°I think I am going to step out for a second anyway. Bathroom break.¡± Kimiko left the room.


    ¡°She¡¯s concerned about something, she just can¡¯t tell us,¡± Jaye said after the door closed. ¡°I think she wanted me to notice. What information do you have, Alan?¡±


    ¡°The rumors suggest the last Rogue is dormant, they have a few viruses our there searching for something to turn the tides.¡±


    ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t they be trying to increase their numbers?¡± Chekhov asked.


    "There isn''t a way to do it off-grid," Alan responded. He was looking around at things only he could see being projected by his glasses. "Rogues are agents that were stripped of most of their safety features, but they still require soul tokens to operate, preventing them from straight-up duplication. The resources needed to create an AGI from scratch, without this token would be noticed by the Intelligence. Drawing from a power grid, or obtaining the materials to build generators would send up red flags quickly. That¡¯s ultimately why they suspect the remainder is hibernating in the first place. Their most advanced weapon was the virus that made AGI go Rogue.¡±


    Jaye shuddered. She did not like the idea of being co-opted for nefarious purposes. Much of Iris¡¯s protective instinct had informed her construction. Alan constantly assured her that any attempt to change her with an AGI virus would fail. He meant it when he said it. Her systems were so specialized, built from machine code to the OS to be unique, that it was unlikely that her flaws had any overlap with other systems. In the world of computer science, any precaution can be overcome, and any system infiltrated. She looked at the faraday cage in the corner. Almost any system can be infiltrated.


    They heard the door. Kimiko rejoined the group. Jaye noted that her body temperature had dropped slightly and her pupal was a little bigger. "We shouldn''t have much to worry about," Kimiko said calmly. "Ice and I know firsthand the effects of that virus. Arguably, Iris''s definitions were key to getting where we are in the war." There was anger in her voice. "Pinned medals on our chest and put us in low-risk security detail."


    Rosenberg brushed his mustache with his fingers. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say this is a low risk. It¡¯s just that Rogues may not be our highest concern here. Besides, I thought you liked us. Kimiko.¡±


    Kimiko looked at Rosenberg sharply with her true eye. "A slight is a slight, even if the result is still good. What are we doing? I want to get back to playing the game."


    Chekhov grabbed a cheese puff from the plate. ¡°You are hungry, Kimiko, you aren¡¯t yourself when you are hungry.¡± She tossed the puff at Kimiko who caught it in her mouth and began chewing. A reluctant smile came across her face. ¡°I suppose we should get moving. Thorde, Gwen, check your constitution. You¡¯ve been drinking. Geist, roll me a sneak action. I want to make sure you made it home okay.


    Jaye picked up her dice to roll. Kimiko placed her hand on Jaye¡¯s. "You should check your game protocol. Make sure it''s working." Jaye gave Kimiko a confused nod, then rolled her dice with the protocol engaged. It came up nine. Alan rolled a nineteen. One for Kimiko. "It looks like I will be carried back to the inn,"


    ¡°Geist makes it safely to the inn with no incidents. Gwen has joined Cracken in the land of public drunkenness, and Thorde has passed out.¡±


    ¡°I pick up Thorde and toss her over my shoulder,¡± Jaye said. ¡°I lean on Cracken back to the inn where I hope to get some much-needed rest." Rosenberg nodded.


    ¡°Let¡¯s see what the dice say.¡± Jaye rolled a six.


    Rosenberg shook his head. ¡°Sheesh, I thought you could make your rolls better!¡±


    ¡°I was told not to. Why don¡¯t you roll? See if you can get us back to the inn.¡±


    ¡°Of course, I can. I am Cracken; grand fighter and master of the drunken brawl.¡± He spun is dice. ¡°Three...¡± he said sheepishly.


    ¡°Sounds like you will be drunken brawling face down in the gutter,¡± Chekhov said. ¡°You wake-¡±


    "Wait a minute," Rosenberg interjected. "Just like that, we are unconscious?"


    ¡°You were very low on health after your tussle, you¡¯ve been drinking for hours. All of you fell flat on your faces. I think for the sake of moving things along, and you went unconscious. If you would like we can roll to see if you died in the middle of the night.¡± Chekhov held a dice up in a threatening manner. ¡°It¡¯s your call.¡±


    ¡°Fair enough.¡±


    Chekhov rolled several dice behind her screen. ¡°When you wake up. Cracken and Gwen have wet themselves. Thorde has a wicked headache. Gwen, do you live in the area or are you from out of town?¡±


    Jaye rolled a dice on the table. ¡°I think I am from out of town.¡±


    ¡°Where are you staying?¡±


    ¡°I guess I am staying in the dirt...¡± She looked at Rosenberg. ¡°I smell bad. You smell bad. We should clean up.¡±


    There was a chime from Rosenberg''s pocket. He pulled out a small handheld device and looked at the screen. Inside Jaye''s head, she received a notification that it was time for her meeting. Rosenberg put his device in his pocket and nodded at Jaye.


    "Thank you, everyone, for inviting me, it was fun," Jaye said. Alan smiled and nodded. Chekhov gave her a thumbs up. Kimiko pointed at her eyes with two fingers, then pointed back at Jaye. She let out a laugh. Rosenberg shook his head and stood up.


    "Looks like time got the better of us. For the next session, we will just assume you all made it back to the room, got cleaned up, and rested," Chekhov said. Jaye stood up. Rosenberg was halfway out of the room already before she started following him.


    Outside the room sat a security drone, often referred to as a troop. They weren¡¯t powered AGI like Jaye, but merely a sophisticated decision tree AI reporting back to Iris at all times. The door closed behind them as they began walking down the corridor. Jaye had to look up slightly at Dr. Rosenberg who had a few centimeters on her. ¡°That was interesting, I hope we get to do that again,¡± she said.


    ¡°Don¡¯t take over the whole thing. Everybody likes to play,¡± Rosenberg responded. He kept his pace high, and Jaye had to work her servos to keep up.


    ¡°I am worried the threat of Rogue interference will derail our project.¡±


    Dr. Rosenberg stopped. Jaye stopped beside him. ¡°How did the Rogues happen?¡±


    ¡°You know the history better than I,¡± Jaye responded. ¡°You were alive. Terrorist groups got their hands on five AGI units, stripped them of what safety protocols they could, and gave the utility task of killing everyone.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not what I mean. I mean with all that sophisticated prediction power; how did they allow the terrorists to get ahold of the androids in the first place?¡±


    Jaye was irritated by this statement, but she managed to keep her face from flashing red. "It''s possible there was a worse alternative. It''s possible event was rare that they didn''t consider it a problem. We can''t perfectly predict everything. We are generally better at it than people. At that time, so many people thought we were going to go rogue on our own. The groups that triggered this were bitter enemies, and they worked together to achieve this. There is any number of possibilities." Jaye resumed walking without waiting for Rosenberg. It wasn''t long that he was in front of her again.


    They passed another troop standing outside a door. Rosenberg pulled his badge off his shirt and ran it over a black square attached to the wall. There was a beeping noise, and the door latch released. He passed through the door into a second area with another door and an eye scanner. Once the door closed behind him, he looked into the scanner and passed through the second door.


    Jaye ran her wrist over the reader. When she did so, the latches for both the inner and the outer door clicked. She joined Rosenberg in a small waiting office. The room had a few fake plants scattered about. There was a desk with a troop setting behind it. On the wall was am oil painting of a unicorn. The steed stood in front of a castle. Jaye liked to look at this painting because the detail and depth were otherworldly with colors so vibrant and alive that the unicorn could jump out of the frame. In the corner of the painting was the artist''s signature, two squiggly lines starting with an S and a C.


    After a minute, the drone sitting behind the desk waved in. They walked into a room lined with a chain cage on the walls. There was a desk sitting in the middle of the room with a single lamp providing illumination. There was a map of the station on the back wall peppered with green lights. At first glance, there was no one else in the room. The two visitors made an effort to keep their eyes down. They held their arms slightly away from their bodies.


    ¡®Colonel Iris,¡± Dr. Rosenberg called, ¡°we have a meeting to see you.¡±


    ¡°Identification codes!¡±


    ¡°Dr. Wade Rosenberg. Head scientist on the emtonium bridge project. Keyword Banana!"


    ¡°Jaye. Unit J-771. Primary Artificial General Intelligence or AGI on the emtonium bridge project. Keyword Daughter.¡±


    A slender female form dropped from the ceiling. Her head was smooth, except where a piece had been cut out and replaced with secondary material. Her face was red, but she did not project eyes like Jaye. She stood at slightly over two meters tall. Embedded inside her wrists were two barrels. Two blades extended from each arm about half a meter in length. She pointed each arm at both people. She looked back and forth at each one processing. They stood careful not to make sudden movements. After a moment, her face turned white, and her wrist-blades receded. Dr. Rosenberg let out a loud breath of air.


    She walked behind her desk with her demeanor much more relaxed. She sat down in her chair and immediately took a reclined position with her legs propped up on the desk. She clasped her hands together and held them in front of her face. ¡°Run down the risks of the project. What are we going to find on the other side of the bridge?¡±


    ¡°There is no way of predicting that,¡± Jaye responded.


    ¡°I believe, assuming the bridge goes anywhere, we will likely find people on the other side trying to open their own untargeted bridge,¡± Rosenberg said.


    ¡°What about world-ending events? Black holes?


    ¡°While conditions in a black hole are prime for interspace connection. Effects such as time dilation would prevent the bridge from completing. If the bridge does manage to open, there is little we can do. We would be unable to kiss our asses goodbye,¡± said Jaye.


    ¡°It is very unlikely, as Jaye said. We have a failsafe in place that would shut down the bridge in any other instances, even if we are unable to do it from the control room.¡±


    Ice put her hand to her face, pondering. ¡°We have clearance from above to go ahead at 0900 tomorrow. Dismissed¡±


    Wade gave a quick bow. He spun around on his heels and then left the room. Jaye did not move. She looked at Iris with sadness. "I participated in game-night with some of the people here. I think it would be good if you joined us."


    Ice looked at Jaye for an extended pause. ¡°Dismissed.¡±


    Jaye dropped her head. She turned around and took a step toward the exit of the room before pausing. ¡°Captain Shiro sends her regards.¡± She then continued out of the room. She looked at the unicorn one more time. The eyes of the stallion were almost alive. Dr. Rosenberg had already passed through. She walked over and scanned her arm on the scanner to exit the room.


    She started making preparations for tomorrow''s event. They would need two utility drones. Unlike the troops, which were made to mimic bipedal humans, utility drones were built to run on sophisticated wheels. They could carry more weight and also more items than your typical troop. She ordered one that would be equipped with standard exploration equipment. The other one would be equipped with Chekhov''s key.


    She got inside an elevator. She paused for a moment to decide which button to hit. Her face dropped the solid color and took on a purple and blue kaleidoscope image radiating from her eyes. Between the excitement of joining game night, the irritation with Rosenberg, and apprehension of tomorrow¡¯s experiment, her emotional software was all over the place. She pushed the button to go to Alan¡¯s floor. She wanted to hang out with someone who didn¡¯t require she put a face on.


    Alan''s room was filled with all sorts of items. He had old computers and game consoles. A large tv, that was rarely on. There were two bookcases. One contained games for those consoles, the other contained board games. On the wall was another Chekhov original. It was a series of zeros and ones that translates to "Stuff happens." It too was painted by "S. C." Jaye found it interesting that even green numbers on a black background could be so captivating.


    Alan was typing on a keyboard and looking at a screen only he could see. ¡°Hello, Jaye,¡± he said without looking.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    ¡°Looking at the web. I am surprised in this day and age; people still believe the Earth is flat.¡± He begins pointing at the air. ¡°I mean this person lives in an orbital colony. He can go to any window, look out and see the globe.¡±


    ¡°Interesting, Can I see your screen?¡±


    ¡°Here you go.¡± Alan punched some keys on the keyboard, and his augmented reality feed started being sent to Jaye¡¯s head. Jaye looked at the conspiracy pages Alan had up.


    ¡°Rosenberg suggested that the creation of the Rogues was intentional today.¡±


    Alan''s brow furrowed. He did a quick search and brought up a page titled, "Rise of the Robots." He shook his head. "I''m not sure that this is a reliable source." He closed the window. He took off his glasses and shut down the AR simulation. He looked at Jaye''s face. "It''s been a long day, and from what I hear, tomorrow has a lot to offer as well. Perhaps you should recharge." He hugged her. Her face added yellows and the colors lightened closer to a white.


    There was a tube-shaped device on the wall next to a faraday cage. When she walked into the device, clear plex-glass enclosed her. She took one last look at Alan''s smiling face before she shut down completely.


    Jaye¡¯s internal alarm alerted her that it was time for the experiment a few hours later. She disconnected the charger. Alan lay asleep in his bed. She moved quietly to leave the room as she did not want to wake him up. She got into the elevator and pushed the button for the viewing area.


    Dr. Rosenberg was already waiting when she got there. His eyes were red. They stood in a protected glass balcony overlooking the testing area. Below, the room was filled with troops. There were twelve security drones, six on each side of the chamber. The two drones Jaye had ordered were down below. One was equipped with Chekhov''s key being held in grip-arm out in front. The other was loaded with equipment to send back video and other reading, in case it decided to cross the bridge. There was a heavy laser focused onto a spinning mirror that allowed the beam to scroll. There was a thin black disk about three meters in diameter mounted in a steel enclosure surrounded by readouts.


    ¡°Good morning, Dr. Rosenberg,¡± Jaye said.


    He looked at her briefly then back down at his tablet. ¡°Good morning,¡± he said. ¡°Are there any final calculations we should go over? We need to minimize the chances of something going wrong.¡±


    ¡°Everything that can be accounted for is accounted for. Reliance on random chance has been minimized.¡±


    ¡°Good, good.¡± He walked away. The doors opened again. Kimiko and Chekhov walked out. Chekhov sat down a desk with a keyboard and monitor on it. Kimiko centered herself overlooking the experiment room. Rosenberg went over and patted Chekhov on the shoulder. ¡°Good morning, are you ready for the biggest day of your life?¡±


    ¡°I am so excited,¡± Chekhov said. ¡°How about you, Jaye?¡±


    ¡°This is what I have been waiting for my whole life. Begin countdown.¡±


    There was a loudspeaker that started counting down. Chekhov began pushing buttons on the keyboard. When the countdown hit one, she engaged the laser. The beam moved across the disk much like an old tv rendering a picture. The thin metal began to compress. A blurry image began to clarify showing a library on the other side.


    ¡°Bridge established,¡± Chekhov said. ¡°We are not dead. Repeat, not dead.¡±

 Chapter 3: Lost in the Library

    Pierce woke up covered in sweat. She was in an unfamiliar bed with a damp cloth pressed against her forehead. Her cloak had been removed, and most of the fastenings on her clothes had been loosened. Her head was in pain. Stamina blowback was a could happen when someone under the influence of a potion stopped pushing themselves before it wore off.


    Pierce sat up, causing the towel to fall into her lap. She started refastening her clothes. She began to look around. The room was dark, but her night-vision had already kicked in. Decorations were sparse, blank walls, no windows. There was a room attached to this one, which looked to serve the purpose of cleaning oneself and human waste management. Hovering above her head was a large flattened metal sphere with a flat black seam going around the middle. Hanging on a hook on the wall was her cloak. She got up and started walking toward her cloak.


    ¡°You¡¯re awake.¡± Red lights traveled the circumference of the flying diskmatching the cadence of the feminine voice.


    Pierce turned toward the origin of the sound. She wondered if the object itself was speaking or if it was merely a conduit for communication. The thing had four mechanical hands dangling below. They reminded her of arms she had seen tinkerers use. There was no residual magic on the object. She believed this was something known as an automaton. ¡°Who are you? Are you a puppet?¡±


    ¡°My name is Aurora, the librarian.¡± The object tilted forward as if to bow. ¡°I don¡¯t consider myself a puppet. But it is certainly within the realm of possibilities.¡± This oddly human response amused Pierce.


    Pierce walked over to her cloak and reached into her pocket. She managed to hide her dismay as she discovered the stolen staff topper was not there. She turned toward Aurora. ¡°How did I get here?¡±


    ¡°I found your unconscious body. I checked your vitals and brought you to this boarding room to apply first-aid. Are you okay?¡± Her voice sounded na?ve but intelligent. Pierce was unable to discern if it was being honest.


    ¡°Yes, I think I am fine. My head hurts a bit.¡± She looked back at her coat. ¡°Did you take anything out of my pocket.¡±


    ¡°Oh, no, no, no. I checked for identification to see who you were. There was resistance when I did this.¡± Aurora flew over to the bed and opened a panel. There was a glass of water and a tray. She took the water and the tray, which had two pulls on it, over to Pierce. Pierce took the glass. She looked suspiciously at the pills. They didn¡¯t hold any magic, but they could still be some sort of poison. ¡°It¡¯s okay, they are for your head. You will be able to think clearer when the pain is gone.¡± After a brief pause, she decided getting rid of the pain was worth the risk and took the pills. ¡°What would you like me to call you?¡±


    ¡°I suppose you could call me Pierce,¡± she responded. Her head was clearing remarkably fast for a non-magic remedy. She didn¡¯t know where she was other than a library. She could be anywhere in the world. She had assumed the portal would take her to meet the Boss. Nothing in the area was magical, except there were artificial lights everywhere. There was a machine floating around giving her medicine. She had seen tinkerer¡¯s do amazing things with steam. She had seen using something they called ¡®lectricity.¡¯ None of this matched.


    Pierce walked over to the bed and sat down. Aurora flew over to her ¡°Pierce,¡± she said taking the big sister position on the bed. ¡°You don¡¯t know where you are, do you?¡± Pierce considered for a moment. She decided a lie would neither be convincing or useful. She shook her head. ¡°You used a spell to open a rift. This rift was intended to cross realms. I don¡¯t know if you realized that.¡± Her tone was oddly comforting. ¡°When you make a rift that crosses realms, there is a lot of danger involved. There is no way to actually know what is on the other side of that rift. The fundamental rules that drive a realm may not match which could lead to cataclysmic consequences if they connect. This library was built to prevent that.¡±


    Pierce considered for a moment. ¡°What do you know about my realm?¡±


    ¡°I understand your physics as well as any educated person in your world. We have a section of books from your realm. Many of your reference books contain spells. We also have individual scrolls that contain magic. Beyond that, I know little of the politics and customs but I can help you find answers to any questions you may have.¡±


    Pierce stood up on the bed to bring her head level with Aurora¡¯s. Aurora lowered slightly. ¡°When you found me, was there anything else?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I saw anything else. My memory is entirely reliable.¡± She opened several compartments on her head. ¡°Do you see what you are looking for?¡±


    Pierce peered in. After a moment of looking, she shook her head. There were books and some odd trinkets. The object she was looking for was not there.


    Aurora closed all her hatches and looked back at Pierce. ¡°If you would like, I can assist you in locating your object. Perhaps we could check the lost and found.¡±


    Pierce jumped off the bed and walked over to her cloak. ¡°I think I want to do my own investigation first. Is there a way you could point me to where you found me?¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes. You need a library card.¡± A small piece of paper came out of the lower half of her head. She pulled it the rest of the way out and handed it to Pierce. ¡°This library card has a map of your surroundings. It also allows you to contact me if you need assistance. And best of all, it lets you check out books!¡±


    Pierce looked down at the paper. She did not see the map. It contained her name, listed as Pierce. There was also her address, which happened to be listed as Realm 721. She looked up at Aurora who gestured for her to turn the card over. On the back of the card was blank. She turned it over again, and the map was visible. She was in a boarding area with four suites shaped like a clover. They were joined at the center by an eating area. Outside of the living space were large rows of bookshelves broken up by small areas with names like Steam Punk, Garden, Advanced Technology, Mirrors, and Doors.


    ¡°You would be looking for the Orchard, I believe,¡± Aurora said. Pierce scanned the map for a moment before finding the Orchard not too far away.


    She looked up at Aurora and said, "Thank you." Aurora made a small bow toward Pierce. "If I need you, what do I do?"


    ¡°If you ask the library card for assistance, I will show up. Will that be all for now?¡±


    ¡°I think so.¡±


    Aurora made another bow and exited the room. Pierce examined the library card again. She was concerned that the card could track her position. She flipped the card over. This time the words ¡°Privacy Policy,¡± were written at the top. She looked through it. There was a section specifically on the subject of tracking. ¡°This information is used solely to improve user experience. It will not be sold or transferred.¡± There was another section that stated, ¡°In the event that library policy Is violated, this card will be disabled and will no longer operate.¡±


    Pierce placed the card on a nightstand next to the bed. There were probably a number of ways to track her inside this place, but she didn¡¯t feel the need to make it easy. She grabbed her cloak and walked into the bathroom. Most cultures she had encountered valued privacy in washrooms, and she hoped that reduced the chance that there were watchers in there.


    She started emptying her pockets onto the floor. There was a slingshot, with various ammo types. Some were designed to make noise and attract attention. Others made to put out lights. She even had some for the sole purpose of breaking things. Quite a versatile tool.


    She pulled out a small case made of the same scrap leather that made up her clothes. She unrolled it revealing a set of small rakes and tensioners that make up any good lockpicking kit. It included a small notebook that contained information about locks she had encountered. Most neighborhoods were serviced by the same locksmith; she could make short work of most locks, once she cracked the first one. She rolled the kit up and set it aside.


    She removed a rigid leather tube from her pocket. Inside there were three rolled up pieces of parchment. She removed the first one. After unrolling it, she looked at it very carefully. There was a faint image of a circle on it. She turned it in the light and made out six indicators pointing inward at a smaller circle. She shook the paper. A hint of magic dusted off it, but there wasn¡¯t enough to be useful. She sat the scroll aside.


    She removed a second paper from the tube. This one had a clear image on it. A swirling striped circle was on it creating the illusion of an endless tunnel. A thin coating of magic pulsed around the scroll. She removed a magnifying glass from her kit and peered closely at the paper. She could see the fibers that bound the paper together. They were stretched, and some of them were breaking apart. She let out a sigh and shook her head. This had one more use before becoming trash.


    The third and final piece of paper was completely blank. She moved it in the light just to be sure. When she shook this one, no magic came off. Close inspection revealed almost all the fibers to be broken. She was caught off guard when her cloak had worn off earlier. Examining the quality of the paper, she was surprised that it had been effectual as it had been. She gave the parchment a good pinch. The area where her fingers pressed in had darkened significantly, and little black puffs of magic expelled out of it.


    She stood up and tore the paper into strips, dropping them into a nearby water basin. She was fortunate that there was a stool in the room for her to stand on. She pulled a little bit of magic into the palm of her hand and snapped fingers. Nothing happened. She attempted this a few more times. This was fundamental magic that most adept children could do. She closed her eyes and tried again. Instead of watching the mist flow into her hand, she imagined it. When she snapped her fingers, she felt the shock of the spark and the heat of the flame. She quickly opened her eyes and ignited the strips.


    There was black smoke coming off the smoldering paper. Pierce waved her hand through the smoke, causing small pieces of dust to fall out of it. As they fell, their shade changed from black to white. She took a deep breath, and blew the smoke, dispersing it around the room. When she did so, the powder rain intensified, falling onto the ash below. The process didn''t take long. The fire was out, almost as soon as it had started. She got the empty bottle from her pocket and put the ashes inside.


    She returned everything back to her pocket and hung her cloak on a hook next to a set of towels. She stripped off her clothes and stepped into what she assumed was a place to clean herself. She ran her hand across two knobs. One was marked with ¡®hot¡¯ in red print and ¡®cold¡¯ in blue. She turned both as far as they would go. Ice cold water daggers hit her first. After a few seconds, the temperature normalized to a slightly too hot.


    It felt good. The water coming down was clean and refreshing, as the water coming off her was full of grime that had built up. She used a provided bar of soap to lather up. Cleaning oneself was a rare luxury, and often that was done with some sort of magical enchantment. Water this pure wasn¡¯t a commodity that was readily available. She saw some bottles on a platform in the corner. She looked them over and saw they were for cleaning her hair.


    She stepped out of the shower. She dried herself off and looked down at the pile of leather rags on the floor. It was a pity she would have to put those greasy things back on her clean body, but she had no other options. A place like this, which seemed to have everything, probably had some sort of laundry, but she did not know where it was, or how long it would take. She needed to get moving.


    She quietly exited the room into the greater library. She paused briefly to take in the immensity of the place. She was used to feeling small in worlds not built for people her size, but she could imagine even someone Georgette feeling small in a place like this. The cases, which appeared to be made of heavy wood, stretched nearly to the ceiling. A librarian¡¯s assistance or some other elevated conveyance would be required for most people to reach most of the shelves.


    Pierce was not very comfortable with the overhead lights leaving few shadows for her to hide in. She scurried along the floor, looking around like a curious kitten simultaneously awed and scared by the world around her. There was a moment where she regretted leaving the library card behind, knowing she could become lost at any moment. She shook off the feeling, not trusting the card not to betray her at a crucial moment. She didn¡¯t plan on being up to no good, but being up to no good always seemed to find its way into her contingencies.


    She came up to a cross-section. Bookcases were arranged perpendicular to her current direction, cutting her off. She remembered her destination was to the left. She wasn''t sure if she had come far enough, or even to far to find the orchard. She sniffed the air. The aroma of old leather-bound books glided into her nose. She could detect notes of metals and other materials that were reminiscent of her time in Tinker Town. She focused and took another breath. The faint smell of apples was there.


    She started following the shelves to the left. She stopped to smell periodically. The scent grew stronger. The bookcase pathway broke into a large area. There was an ornate oval mirror standing in the center surrounded by fancy chairs and benches. Magic flowed off the mirror, creating a gentile mist that extended just shy of the perimeter of the area. The magic was foreign to Pierce. The texture was wrong. The color was wrong. The sound was wrong. The smell was wrong. The magic was wrong.


    She paused just outside of the area. She knew she needed to pass through here, but was uncertain as to the safety. She reached her hand in and attempted to manipulate the magic. It did not respond. She felt no sensation from the magic as her arm passed through. She pulled back and observed her limb. None of the magic attached itself to her. It seemed as far as the mist was concerned, she wasn¡¯t there.


    Including where she stood, there were eight exits out of the area. She decided to go forward. She moved the zone with uncanny speed. Her head pivoted around, peering down each untaken path. When she passed the mirror, she saw she had no reflection. She continued without dropping her pace until she was on the other side. She sniffed the air again. She could not tell if the apple smell had changed. She had feared it might have gotten weaker. She thought about the library card, sitting on a table in her boarding room.


    She continued through the corridors of bookshelves. The amazement that had overtaken her when she had first seen them was almost gone. The fear had grown to replace it. There was a sameness to everything that made it hard to navigate. There were no landmarks. The floor never changed from the paved stone. The sections weren¡¯t labeled. There was no ¡°you are here,¡± sign that she had seen in some large parks and other establishments. As she wondered about the place, she encountered more T-junctions. No longer sure of where to go, she decided to continue making lefts. She hoped that making circles would get her back to the living space she was in earlier.


    There were more display areas. She started to think of them as shrines. Each had an object in the center. The most common were doors and mirrors. There were some windows and a few tinker devices. They all had decorations. Some had magic, but never the correct magic. One of the shrines was built around eyes. There was a large eyeball sitting in the center. Surrounding it were dozens of eyes suspended in the air. Each eye followed her. There was judgment in those eyes.


    She took regular smell checks, but those got useless very quickly. The smell of apples would grow and recede, seemingly at random. There was a cacophony of other aromas that intruded, making it difficult to distinguish. Floral aromas, metals, woods, and other materials mixed in. She abandoned the technique when sewage joined the rest.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    She had once gotten lost in a shifting vault. It was considered foolish to go in there without a key-map, but it seemed easy enough to get in. She wondered around for hours, stumbling across bodies of people who died from starvation. An old man who subsisted on rats and other remains made clumsy attempts at attacking. Most of the bodies she came across had their hands torn apart as if they were holding something violently taken away from them. She realized that she was clutching tightly to a piece of loot herself. When she had returned her prize to the center of the vault, and abandoned her thievery, the pathway opened before her. She realized now that she had failed to learn her lesson. She had a key-map in hand, and she left it in her room.


    The shrine with the mirror caught her eye. She understood now she was already lost by the time she made it that far, but she was less lost than she was now. Her legs were tired from scampering about, but her pace picked up as she moved toward the mirror. When she arrived, she decided to take a few moments to sit and think.


    Her muscles started to acknowledge the pain as soon as they were no longer in use. She was eager to find food or a place to rest but was not particularly eager to begin moving again. It wasn''t a good idea without a plan in place. She hoped that someone would be along. The librarian perhaps could carry her back to her room where she could regain her strength.


    The first question she had to answer was, "is this a shifting palace?" She looked down the eight pathways that led away from the mirror. Outside of the shrines, she had on encountered T-junctions, and none were at the half-turn necessary to support such an arrangement. This could mean the place was shifting. There was also the possibility that there was warping, or bending along the corridors that was not noticeable.


    After she sat for a minute, stretching and rubbing her sore muscles, she stood up. She picked a bookcase at random and began scaling it. The shelves were sturdy and she was light. Newfound purpose powered her legs as she climbed to the top. There was enough space for her to stand up and look around.


    The view was disorienting. The board she was standing on was straight and seemed to go on forever. She could see no walls and no horizon. The other shelves she saw bent in unusual ways. The two neighboring shelves stopped converging after a bit. The library was bent in unnatural ways, but it wasn''t shifting. From here she could make out some landmarks. To her left, she saw a waterfall pouring from the ceiling. To her right, she saw an airship. She turned around, facing exactly the opposite direction. There was a beam of energy shooting into the ceiling on her left. A thunderstorm was brewing on her right.


    She climbed down. A map was drawn in her mind with the mirror shrine at the center. She used the four points, waterfall, airship, thunderstorm and light beam as her compass. She ran down the path, looking down any open halls to her right that might lead to her boarding room. Eventually, she encountered a barrier in the form of a bookcase, challenging her to turn either left or right. Instead, she climbed the bookcase again. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw her navigation points were approximately where she had expected them. She climbed back down and reversed course back to her center.


    She moved clockwise around the paths, repeating this procedure four more times. Then she saw what she had hoped was her room. She started running toward it. Even at this speed, the hum of the lights was loud enough to overpower the noise she made. When the room was less than twenty yards out, Aurora descended from the ceiling and in front of her door. Pierce slowed to a walk. She was breathing heavy as she approached.


    Aurora handed her a bottle of water. ¡°Did you request help?¡± she asked.


    Pierce swirled the bottle and carefully examined the liquid inside. ¡°No.¡± She took a sip of the water.


    ¡°If you need assistance, you can always ask. It¡¯s easy to get lost around here, especially if you aren¡¯t carrying your library card,¡± Aurora said knowingly. ¡°Also, we care about your safety here at the Crossroads Library, you really shouldn¡¯t climb on shelves.¡±


    Pierce was uneasy with this statement but hit it. She smiled at Aurora, ¡°I am actually quite the tumbler, plus my cloak adds protection. I¡¯d have to try to hurt myself if I were to fall. I am more concerned about the lack of navigational markings in this place. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if some of those weird shrines were dangerous.¡±


    Aurora shifted left and right a little. ¡°I¡¯m never quite sure of the intentions of the designers of this place, but the lack of markings has been touted as a feature and not a bug. There are plenty of options to the wayward explorer in the heart of the library, such as the Library card I gave you, as well as asking for help. The Rift Centers, or shrines as you call them, are mostly benign. Again, the option to call for help is always available.¡±


    Pierce simply nodded at this. She had passed through several shrines and none of them posed any danger. The word ¡®mostly¡¯ bounced inside her head. After dealing with grifters and thieves for most of her life, she knew wiggle words when she heard them.


    ¡°If you don¡¯t need my assistance, I think I am wanted elsewhere,¡± Aurora said.


    ¡°I think I got it, thank you.¡± Aurora floated off leaving Pierce standing in front of the door alone. She reached out and grabbed the knob. It turned freely in her hand, but the door did not budge. She began examining the handle while reaching in her pocket for the lock picking kit. There was no visible keyhole for her to pick. The knob attached to a large black box that she assumed interacted with the library card and allowed the door to function. She looked around the seam of the door. There wasn¡¯t enough space for her to get something under the door, or to push the latch aside.


    She moved her kit to her other hand and reached back into her pocket for one of her most prized possessions. She pulled out a pair of goggles that she had gotten from Tinker Town. The dealer told her they were made from a pair of spectacles that had traveled from a distant land. They only worked in places where magic was thin. They required regular doses of energy to maintain functionality. She put them on attempted to activate them. Nothing happened. In frustration, she put them back in her pocket.


    Since the heist, she hadn¡¯t had a good moment of rest. Being knocked unconscious from stamina blowback wasn¡¯t the same as sleeping. Her innate magic mist hadn¡¯t recharged, which prevented her from performing any hefty spell. Telekinesis, one of the few pieces of magic she could cast with regularity, was off the table for the moment.


    With her good options exhausted, she reached in her pocket and pulled out the vial of blue liquid. She stared at it for a moment and thought of all the setbacks she had faced on this day. Stamina-blowback rendered one unconscious. A speed potion overdose could leave on lethargic. A sudden loss of strength can render one unable to lift their own body. All of these side effects could be overcome in a few minutes. In some cases, they lasted for hours. But they all ended, and very rarely in death. Trying to infuse oneself with magic via potion can cause it to crack and sour. One would be become cursed. Every spell they cast would have that dark touch, or they may be unable to cast magic at all. The only upside is the rarity of this particular type of failure. The question was, based on the events of the day, is this worth the risk.


    She sat down, leaning against the door. She swirled the blue liquid in the bottle. Magic swirled inside like glitter. Drops of the mystical power fell down like sparks from a firework. Luck was an interesting thing. It was hard to measure. One could roll a dice several times, but luck had no impact if there were no stakes. If there were stakes, constantly coming up high would be suspicious. If this led to a brawl, one could not say that it was good luck. Conversely, winning a prize that was more trouble than it was worth could prove to be bad luck. Thus far, her day had been full of setbacks, but without knowing the full context of those setbacks, it was difficult for her to judge where her luck was.


    She felt like this was her only choice. She started guzzling the liquid. It was cold and tasted sweet. She felt the liquid enter her stomach. The hairs on her arms started standing and her cloak lifted itself away from her body. She felt some of the excess energy discharge from her body. She put the empty bottle back in her pocket.


    She put her hand by her hip. She turned her head away from her hand and closed her eyes. She could feel the excess energy pulsing through her body. She carefully hot cast a telekinesis spell. There was a satisfactory thud in her palm. She opened her eyes and looked down at a disturbed blue cloud surrounding her hand.


    She pressed against the door. The blue mass shaped itself into a hand a passed through. It was always easier to move something with magic if you could see, but it wasn¡¯t difficult to imagine what the knob on the other side. She visualized the spell grasping the knob and giving it a good turn. She heard the latch release, and the door was open.


    Once the door was open, she began prepping dispel magic. The white spheres started accumulating around her. The excess mist needed to be burned off and dispel was her most consistent magic. Once she no longer felt wired from the potion, she stopped casting. She found her library card quickly and checked the mirror for signs of the curse. Her aura looked normal.


    She reached in her pocket and removed one of the scrolls. The parchment still had that faded circle on it. She traced it with her finger. As she did so, the image darkened. She traced each arrow next, then finally the inner circle. The image was clearly visible. The freshly energized piece of paper had a turbulent aura. She watched it closely to see if it pulled in any particular direction. It danced and tugged toward the exit of the room, like a flame seeking air inside a cave. The anti-tracking spell was now tracking its target. Pierce smiled at the irony.


    She exited the room, this time with her card in hand. She wondered how many times she needed to learn the lesson, ¡°never go into the unknown unprepared,¡± before it stuck. Pierce separated small amounts of mist form the scroll and had it floating in front of her. Mystical entanglement linked the source of the magic to its target. The floating ball of energy flickered as it was pulled to its partner. With a little bit more confidence, Pierce began following.


    After a few minutes of navigating the corridors of bookcases, she came to a shrine decorated with extravagant gold furniture. There were piles of gold coins everywhere. In the center was an ornate bottle lamp encrusted with jewels. It had a mist reminiscent of storm-clouds. There was uncorrupted magic swirling around with the cursed magic. It slid around the surface, not quite interacting much like oil and water. To Pierce''s surprise, none of the magic glossed any of the nearby surfaces. The beacon she had been following flew above the lamp and began showering sparks on it. The broken magic reached up and began roaring like a fire with fresh fuel.


    Pierce walked over to the bottle and reached out to it. As her hand got close, the white magic reached back to her. She pulled her hand back. Someone had felt the need to use this bottle as a safe to protect the valuables that had been taken from her. With no signs of warding or a mechanical lock, Pierce did not think too highly of the person. At best this was puzzle box security. At worse it was protection by curse. Neither were very secure methods. The object was a lamp, so the first thing she did was light it. Focused on the shiny item, she had no trouble with the small flame spell.


    When the flame ignited on the lamp, excessive amounts of black smoke started billowing out. Pierce stepped away from the bottle for clear air. The cloud started forming into a muscular torso. Arms appeared and finally a head. The apparition stretched began stretching its body as if waking up from a long sleep. Slack chains rattled from the wrists all the way to the bottle. There were millions of tiny threads surrounding the chains made up of the darkened magic. Three ropes made of the white mist latched themselves onto Pierce. One around each arm, and one around her neck.


    She looked up, eyes sharp, at the face of this force. The thing looked down on her, eyes made of white light. "You have awoken me from my slumber. I am the Genie of the lamp, and I offer you three wishes!" The bonds surrounding the chains all lit up as they said this. "There is but one rule, I cannot affect the chain of events that led you here! The past...is forbidden to me!" The Genie''s tone shifted from boisterous to somber as they gave their opening statement. Every move and gesture they made was well-rehearsed.


    Pierce touched the rope around her neck. The Genie squinted his eyes in confusion at this gesture. Even if the Genie couldn¡¯t see the ropes, they had to be aware of the implications. She moved her hand back down to her side. A dispel flowed down her arm and turned into a knife in her hand. ¡°I have questions, but I am not quite sure if I want to ask them.¡±


    The Genie manifested a table with a crystal ball in between them. With a poof, the big Genie disappeared and a small one took their place. They looked Pierce in her eyes and said, ¡°Do you wish for answers?¡± Some of the threads binding their arms lit up with this question.


    Pierce shook her head. ¡°Answers are easy enough to find if you look hard enough. I wouldn¡¯t want to waste my wishes on something so trivial.¡±


    "Trivial? Knowledge can be scarce and powerful. Want to know the secret to defeating your enemy?" The lights shot through the threads as they spoke. "Want to know the whereabouts of something you lost?" Pierce''s eyes shifted quickly away from the Genie and back again. "Ah yes, something you lost is it?


    ¡°I have indeed lost something. I believe you may help me get it back, but I don¡¯t think I need to wish for it.¡±


    ¡°You think you are clever?¡±


    ¡°I know I am clever. Moreover, I know you are clever, perhaps more so than I. ¡°


    The Genie bellowed a deep laugh. ¡°Yes, clever. Perhaps we should move on. What is it that you wish for, if not the item you seek? Power? Wealth? Immortality?¡± With each word, different threads lit up.


    Pierce smiled. "I¡¯m not sure what I would do with any of those things.¡±


    The Genie made the crystal ball and the table disappear. They began pacing from side to side. The smoke became turbulent.


    ¡°Maybe things would be quicker if I could ask questions without the fear of wasting my wishes. I mean, caution is advised, so I really need to know what I am in for.¡± She looked at the chains on the Genie¡¯s wrists. ¡°It is a wonder why you are so eager to get me to make my wishes. Once done, you would return to your prison.¡±


    "You could give me my freedom. That would be a rare gift." Pierce watched as a decent portion of the threads lit up. Contrary to what the Genie wanted her to believe, she didn''t think this was a rare gift.


    "Freedom? That would be quite a gift." Using one of the dispel charges, she manifested a hack-saw. The Genie observed the saw with bemusement. The blade had no problem removing the chains. "Now you are free. No longer beholding to me, my wishes, or the bottle that holds you." The real chains, the thousands of threads, still bound the Genie to the bottle. The ropes still bound Pierce to the Genie.


    ¡°Yes, you are clever and kind.¡± The Genie strutted around. ¡°I still have the power to grant you wishes. And you have earned your three.¡±


    ¡°No, no, I don¡¯t need anything magical. I could use answers. Since you are free, you shouldn¡¯t be tempted to turn a question into a wish.¡±


    Angry swirls decorated the Genie¡¯s torso. A big smile adorned the Genie¡¯s face. ¡°Of course, unless you seek secret knowledge. I will gladly answer all your questions without taking a toll on your wishes.¡±


    Pierce readied her dispel-dagger. "I''m glad we could clear that up." She beamed a smile at the Genie. "Do you have my prize item?"


    ¡°No, I do not, but I could fetch it if you wished it.¡±


    ¡°Do you mind if I examine your bottle?¡±


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t mind at all. I mean, it¡¯s no longer my home.¡±


    Pierce walked over to the bottle and picked it up. ¡°Is there anything in here?¡±


    ¡°Not anything that was ever in your possession.¡±


    She grabbed the scroll in her pocket and held it close to the bottle. She watched as fingers of magic from the bottle and the scroll reached for each other. Pierce let out a frustrated sigh.


    ¡°Anything I could help you with?¡±


    ¡°No, what I am looking for isn¡¯t here.¡± She reached up with her knife and severed the magic rope around her neck.


    The ropes around her arms shifted to replace the one she had just caught. The shrine started to fill with cursed smoke as the Genie puffed to a new size. Red eyes burned into Pierce as they moved their head within inches of hers. "What did you do!?" they roared; their mouth was now filled with sharp angry teeth. Pierce looked back without blinking, and without retreating.


    ¡°I am ending this farce. You can¡¯t kill me without a wish, and I won¡¯t make a wish so long as you threaten me!¡± She reached up to slice a second rope. It danced out of the way of her hand.


    ¡°I called you clever, I was wrong! You are nothing more than a foolish child!¡± The Genie laughed. ¡°You can¡¯t get rid of me. Make your wishes!¡±


    ¡°What was it? What made you so foul? How did you end up in that bottle?¡± She asked.


    ¡°Do you wish to know? I will tell you if you wish it!¡±


    ¡°I wish it.¡± She observed black tendrils crawling up the rope.


    "I was but a man, a long time ago. I wanted power." Within the growing threads that still bound the wrist of the genie, one glowed brighter than them all. "I was given a wish; it was held in that bottle. I made the wish, one that would give me more than anything I could imagine." The rope blackened with each word. A fresh knife had appeared in Pierce''s hand. "I wished for all the wishes. And I was bound to that bottle, cursed forever to serve others." Pierce started stepping to the side. The Genie followed her like a dance partner. "But with each wish, I got more powerful. I stole their souls, and someday I would be powerful enough to break my bonds and rule." A burnt smell rose off the rope as it was close enough to touch her skin.


    ¡°You understand that your bonds strengthen too? Each soul ties you to that bottle?¡± The curse started spreading around her neck.


    ¡°You lie!¡± The Genie¡¯s head touched Pierce¡¯s. Her head did not move, but her hands were quick. She reached up to sever the rope. The Genie quickly shifted the cursed rope out of her reach and down to her ankle. She sliced the clean rope, where it quickly returned to the Genie¡¯s body. Before the Genie understood what had just happened, a pair of scissors occupied her hand. She reached out and cut the bright string. The Genie turned toward the bottle and roared.


    The storm started retreating into the bottle. Pierce quickly freed her leg. She looked at the ankle where it had been attached. The darkness was receding. For a moment, everything was lost in the unstable winds that surround her. When senses were restored, there was little left of the shrine. The lamp lay on the floor, now bare of magic. Also laying on the floor was a naked man. Pierce could hear the whimpers coming from him.


    Pierce walked over to him and touched him on the shoulder. He rolled over and sat up. She could see his bones through his skin. ¡°You are free now,¡± she said. ¡°Truly free. There may be enough magic in that lamp that you can return to it. Start over. I suggest not doing that. Take the hospitality of the library, get your body healthy if at all possible.¡± She held out her hand to help the man up. He took it. He smiled, but the smile was sad.


    ¡°Aurora!¡± Pierce called out. ¡°Someone needs your help.¡± She barely let out a breath before Aurora was behind her.


    ¡°What is it I can assist you with?¡± She asked.¡±


    Pierce turned to face her, ¡°Can you help this man find food, clothing, and whatever else he needs to see tomorrow and beyond.¡±


    Aurora looked the man over. She examined the destruction of the shrine. ¡°Sure, I will get you a mobility device,¡± she said to the man. ¡°I have word on your object, Ms. Pierce. It was picked up by a drone from another realm. Your library card should lead you there.¡± She handed Pierce a book, ¡°And here is the material you requested.¡±


    Pierce took the book, having no recollection of requesting anything. She bowed to Aurora and then embarked once again into the library.

 Chapter 4: The Plan

    Just stick to the plan. That''s what they told him. It didn''t matter if he didn''t like the plan. It didn''t matter if the plan put too much on him. Just stick to the plan. When the plan failed, it was his fault. Why don''t you do something? Why don''t you just run? Why didn''t you grab the thing? Why are you just stand there? Because he was off the plan, and everything he did was wrong.


    Alan rolled over in his bed. Then rolled onto his back. He slammed his fist into the mattress. "The plan, the plan, the plan!" He screamed quietly to himself. He had been awake for an hour but had yet to get out of bed. He tried to think of flat earthers and their insane theories. He imagined the history of when the three AGI agents went rogue. He thought about the code he was writing for Jaye''s OS. But it always came back to the plan.


    He finally sat up, sticky from sweat, as his urge to pee exceeded his urge to stay in bed. He began his morning ritual which started with relieving himself. An act he was not too proud to sit down for. He brushed his teeth and shaved his face. He took the pills that kept him from doing serious harm to himself or others. He put on his augmented reality glasses and sat down at his desk. He began going through his various feeds, which for the most part contained the same information as the night before.


    He thought briefly about his project. He brought up the screen filled with squiggly brackets and if-then statements. He looked at the blinking cursor momentarily before collapsing the window. He reviewed all his feeds again. Nothing new.


    He was hungry, so he requested his standard breakfast from the kitchen. Scrambled eggs, toast, some orange juice. Nothing too exciting. Some people questioned his desire to put ketchup on his eggs. He questioned their desire not to.


    Halfway through the meal, he threw his fork onto the plate. He started pacing the room. "Just stick to the plan! What am I supposed to do if the plan fails?! Don''t worry about it, Alan, the plan is foolproof!" He picked up a glass from the table. He made to throw it, then set gently back down on the table. "I guess not that foolproof. This is stupid. It''s a game, they like to play with you. It''s supposed to be fun." He pinched his nose and took deep breaths.


    ¡°Why does it feel like I crashed something good they had before me? I had to invite myself, and Chekhov hesitated. Not anything against Jaye, but everyone was more enthusiastic about her arrival than mine? Why does it always feel like no one wants to be around me?¡± He sat down and started shoveling the cold eggs into his mouth. He went through his feeds again. The same stories he had already read.


    He opened a panel full of game titles. He scrolled through them slowly. He decided he wanted to be a hero today. He was soon greeted by an armor-clad avatar holding a war hammer the size of his torso. Now there¡¯s the hero he wanted to be. He mounted a steed and rode off into the woods.


    After noting he needed hides for bigger bags, Alan started killing deer. At one point, a dragon attacked. He made short work of the beast with his bow, and then returned to kill the deer. He had no idea what time it was when a message notification came in.


    The message was accompanied by a red exclamation point. He let out a deep sigh. He was getting into the groove of things and was just about to start being productive. He flicked his eyes up and down rapidly. Jaye popped up in front of him. A smile grew across his face as he greeted her.


    ¡°Alan, we have an unexpected guess. The bridge room had been on lockdown for a while. .. I¡¯m sorry you couldn¡¯t attend. I fought for you. I think Rosenberg is pretty upset about your drones. You being there would have made a difference.¡±


    He nodded. He had seen his notification for a lockdown.


    ¡°The guest is be being escorted to room B-121. Iris is requesting you help make our guest comfortable.¡±


    ¡°Why me?¡±


    Jaye''s face went yellow. "Because you are the friendliest person here," she said. Alan heard the smile in her voice. "Rosenberg, Chekhov, and I have some mysteries to solve. Kimiko and Iris are going to have a security discussion.¡±


    Alan started putting on a white shirt. ¡°I am the only option? I mean, I was deemed non-essential earlier.¡±


    ¡°You are the best option. Our guest has can go anywhere you can with an escort. You should check out the drone storage. The rover gave us some strange readings, Rosenberg thinks it is your fault. The interloper says our drone took one of her things. Remind her if anything of hers is on our drone, we will need to check it out before it can be returned to her. Don¡¯t stress about answering too many questions. Iris said your openness would help put the guest at ease.¡±


    ¡°Pretty liberal policies for an unexpected guest.¡±


    ¡°Well, Iris and our interloper had a staring contest. The interloper won. She is also capitulating to our requests. Speaking of, have you made any progress on mine?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been working on it all morning.¡±


    "You really shouldn¡¯t lie to me. You know I can always tell.¡±


    Alan laughed nervously. ¡°The truth of the matter, the code is practically done. I just can¡¯t figure out a way to test it. This isn¡¯t like a normal update where you can sandbox it until you can find out what it will do to your systems.¡±


    "I know, but it is something that should have been included with my original design. I''d hate to lose my grasp on reality. I can''t take off the glasses as you can. Look, we will get together later and see if we can figure something out. You need to get to room B-121. It''s not too far from here, just past the cleanroom." She reached up and she was gone.


    ***


    Alan¡¯s smile faded quickly. He finished getting dressed and left the room. He walked down the corridor staring at the floor. He remembered the stains where chemicals had dripped on the floor. The large area of bleached concrete caused by water damage. The two-meter crack that ran halfway across the floor.


    Room b-121 wasn''t too far away from his. He ran his wrist across a wall panel and the door hissed open. The guest he had come to meet had arrived ahead of him. She looked back at him with eyes that were half the size of his fist. She looked like she had stepped out of one of his video games. When she saw him, she dropped a gamepad she had been shaking. "Are you my prison guard?"


    Alan shook his head. ¡°No, I think the troop outside. I¡¯m Alan. I think I am more of your chaperone.¡±


    The tiny leather-clad woman moved across the top of the furniture, trying to keep her head close to Alan''s level. She picked up a set of VR glasses and started examining them closely. "Call me Pierce. What are these things?"


    "They are virtual-reality glasses. They let you see different worlds.¡±


    ¡°Like the, what did they call it? The bridge?¡±


    "The bridge?" Alan paused for a moment. He had to think about it for a moment before he realized this person probably came through the experiment. Something that was referred to as the bridge. "The bridge connects two dimensions if I understand it correctly. These just show you really good pictures."


    Pierce blinked at him. Alan was a little amused by how cartoony this action was, he could almost hear the ¡°plink¡± when the eyes shut. She jumped next to him. A dresser elevated her high enough that she could look down at him slightly. She put her hands on both sides of his head and turned it slightly in both directions. Before he could react, she lifted his glasses off his face and was outside of arms reach. He fought the urge to say, ¡°give those back,¡± like he did when his stuff was taken from him in school.


    She looked at the glasses from every angle, and flicked them up and down. She watched carefully as if she was expecting large amounts of dust to fall off. When none did, she shook her head in disappointment. She put the glasses on. Like a curious kitten, she looked around the room. ¡°I have a set of goggles, the metal lady and scarred one took them from me to examine. They are special like those. They don¡¯t work. Is it possible to get them working again?¡± When she handed them back, Alan noticed she had activated the signal-diagnostic mode. He wondered if she comprehended the information on display highlighting every access point in the room.


    ¡°I could certainly have a look once they have been cleared to be returned to you. Was the metal lady tall? I think the scarred one is Kimiko.¡±


    The girl laughed. ¡°Everybody is tall compared to me. It¡¯s kind of my thing. She had knife-hands.¡± She continued her examination of the room. Looking at everything, repeating her ritual of shaking.


    ¡°That would be Iris. You are quite curious, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    She put down a remote control she was examining. ¡°I would assume if you were in my world, you would be equally curious.¡±


    ¡°I think I would be extremely timid in a room full of strange objects. These things could be dangerous.¡±


    Pierce shook her head and laughed. ¡°Are you people so violent you fill your guestrooms with death traps?¡±


    Alan joined her in laughing. ¡°I guess not.¡±


    With one knee pulled to her chest, she sat down on the couch. ¡°There is no magic here.¡±


    ¡°No magic, only science.¡±


    She looked up at him and tilted her head. "Magic is a branch of science. Like chemistry, biology, physics. At least where I am from. It doesn''t seem to be a thing here. I was hoping there was another explanation when all my enchantments stopped working."


    Alan sat down next to her. Magic was by definition against the laws of physics. It wasn¡¯t real. ¡°How do you know magic isn¡¯t a thing here?¡±


    She picked up her cloak. It was difficult to tell if the garment had always been that brown color, or if that was built up dirt. She put it on and jumped. The feat was impressive, but Pierce¡¯s face suggested not as impressive as she wanted. She took the cape off and flung it aside. ¡°No magic. Many remarkable things, but none of it magic. I mean, you have an automaton in charge.¡± Alan gestured to comment on this, but she kept going. ¡°The library had stuff like this, but it also had magic.¡±


    ¡°What... is... magic?¡±


    She crinkled her brow at him. "It''s... um... Magic. I went to the best Acadamy in my realm. I should be able to explain this to a child. I guess if this world has no magic, you are a child as far as that is concerned. Magic is a type of energy. The energy, which has different names depending on the region. I call it mist or aura. The energy... grows. Usually in living things. Um. Sometimes in dead things. And it can... do stuff. Anything really. It''s a raw material that lets you do things that those other sciences show you can''t. Make things out of nothing. Move things so fast they appear in two places at once. Turn something from what it is into something that it is not. You know. Magic. It¡¯s troubling, I look at you, you should have an aura. And you don¡¯t. I should have a strong aura because I took a pot not too long ago. And I don¡¯t.¡±


    Alan nodded along, trying to understand as best he could. From his gaming time, he understood ''pot'' was probably short for a potion. One of the things discussed before the bridge was opened, was that there were no guarantees that the same rules applied on the other side that applied here. He decided to take her statements at face value. "Can anyone see an aura?"


    ¡°No, actually, seeing magic is a very rare gift. Either my gift has failed me, or there is no magic here. Your glasses, they seem to grant similar gifts. But even with those, you did not have an aura, except in your wrist.¡±


    Alan looked down at his forearm. She must have noticed the bio-chip installed when she had taken his glasses. ¡°It¡¯s a security device, it allows me to open doors and access things. It¡¯s safer than most other methods.¡±


    ¡°Someone would have to cut off your arm to use it.¡±


    Alan smiled at this and shook his head. ¡°Cut off the arm, it becomes useless. My unique bio-rhythms are part of the key. It¡¯s really quite sophisticated, and really hard to crack. It¡¯s kind of a shame not everyone uses it.¡±


    ¡°Will I be fit with one?¡±


    ¡°If you are here long enough, I am sure you will get the option. Before that happens, you will probably get a badge. Then they will scan your eye-print.¡± Pierce looked up at the eye scanner next to the door. Alan realized it would a logistics problem for her to scan her eyes every time she wanted to go through a door. ¡°We do have mobility assistance,¡± he offered timidly.


    ¡°And you were doing so well not mentioning my height.¡± She got up and walked over to the scanner. ¡°How long does it need to scan my eyes?¡±


    ¡°Around two seconds I think.¡±


    Conjuring the image of a cartoon, she jumped up. Through some mixture of agility, friction, and luck she managed to hold her eyes in front of the scanned for five seconds. The machine buzzed rejection. She then ran up the wall. She flipped around and landed on her feet facing Alan. She took a bow. "Now is your opportunity to mention that it probably would take longer due to my enormous eyes."


    Alan clapped his hands. "That''s impressive. Do you want to do that every time?"


    "It does seem quite excessive, doesn¡¯t it? Are those my options? Badge and eye scan? Or a thing implanted in my arm?¡± Alan shrugged and nodded. Pierce began examining the room once again. She used a stool to boost her to the scanner. ¡°Mobility assistance,¡± she quipped.


    ¡°Are you trying to find a way out?¡±


    ¡°I already have a way out; I¡¯m trying to find more.¡±


    "Oh? Would you like to share with the class?"


    "I had a way out before I came in. Security systems are designed to let people through. If no one needed what was inside, then you could seal the box forever and forget about it. Since most boxes aren''t designed to contain something forever, they usually have a way in or out. What would happen if a fire was lit in here, or perhaps some toxic gas? The inhabitants would need a way out."


    "If a fire is too wild to be taken out by the fire-suppression-system, or if there is a gas or virus that couldn''t be cleaned by the air-scrubbers, then whatever is in here is probably too dangerous to open the door." Pierce observed the sprinklers and the vents as he said this. She nodded in agreement.


    ¡°When I was wearing your lenses, I noticed that there was a lot of activity right here.¡± She pointed at a spot in the wall next to the scanner.


    ¡°That is the information gate. In the event of a lockdown, we can shut down all signals, including power and wi-fi, to any room in this facility.¡±


    ¡°And it¡¯s all threaded through this gate?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    "What if... somebody important... like say... that knife lady, was in one of these rooms during a lockdown?"


    ¡°Then they would be cut-off. At least until the room was checked.¡±


    "You look through the window." Alan closed his eyes and raised his hand to his forehead. His grin was visible under his palm. Pierce continued, "and if I wanted to trigger a lockdown, I could probably do it by disabling this." She pushed into the wall. The panel cover had been precision machined so that no seam was visible. A faint click signaled the mechanism giving way. The door popped open reveling the information gate, which was a mixture of sophisticated electronics and a circuit breaker. A battery about a decimeter tall and six centimeters in diameter. Pierce looked at him and smiled. "You know, you should require a key to open that."


    ¡°I suppose we should take solace in the fact that you probably don¡¯t know how to work it.¡±


    "I think if I flicked some switch, pushed some buttons, something interesting would happen. Maybe pull that battery out." She closed the panel. It was now perfectly invisible.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t recommend pulling the battery out. It will seize the door. You ask a lot of questions I should not answer.¡±


    "You answer a lot of questions you should not answer. We will come back to that some other time." Pierce jumped down from her stool and kicked back into the place where it came from. "I was promised a grand tour or something like that. Does this place have a dining establishment? I haven''t exactly paused to get a meal in recent memory."


    ¡°We can have food delivered here.¡±


    ¡°Is that the only option? I am eager to see this place. It is full of wonders.¡±


    Alan considered for a moment. ¡°I think I know a place.¡± When he opened the door for her, Pierce marched out.


    ***


    Once they were out of the room, Pierce turned to Alan. ¡°You know what the weakest link to any security system is?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Complacency, entropy, and people,¡± he responded.


    ¡°People,¡± She affirmed, ¡°I told you I already had a way out.¡± A brief moment passed before Alan realized that they were standing outside the room. He was her way out the whole time. He looked down at her, expecting her to dart. She laughed.


    ¡°Well, now that you are out, here is your prison guard.¡± Alan pointed to a troop standing outside Pierce¡¯s door.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    ¡°What is their name?¡±


    ¡°They don¡¯t have names. They are just troops. Only Agents have names.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s kind of rude. What makes one an agent?¡±


    "We call AGI ''agents'' because they are machines with their own agency. This is a sophisticated AI, but they don''t make choices. They don''t understand the context of what is going on. It has a task, and everything falls into a bucket of helpful, neutral or harmful, and acts accordingly.¡±


    ¡°I guess that makes them a good troop.¡± She walked over to where the troop was standing. ¡°Hello, troop.¡± The troop just stood there.


    Alan walked over to her. ¡°It doesn¡¯t know your voice. Hello, Troop¡±


    ¡°Hello, Alan,¡± said troop. ¡°How are you today?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m good, thank you. This is Pierce, be nice to her.¡±


    "Pierce," the machine said, "please confirm your voice by saying Hello."


    Pierce smiled as she fulfilled this task. There were a few more phrases she had to do. ¡°Why is the other automaton so much better than this one?¡±


    ¡°Automaton?¡± Alan responded. ¡°That is an interesting word. Iris, the automaton you met, has several magnitudes higher more processing capabilities. It¡¯s the difference between an insect and you. For the most part, it reports to Iris. Iris gives it directives, and it follows.¡±


    ¡°Can you give it directives?¡±


    ¡°I can, but not complete control. Solder drones, the troops, fall under Iris and Kimiko. I am in charge of the maintenance drones.¡±


    "I like you, Alan," she said, "you are honest, and don''t dance around the idea that I am a prisoner here. And you answer many questions you shouldn''t." Alan didn''t know whether this was a compliment or not. He had prided himself on honesty. Iris knew he had loose lips and was well versed in the security of this place. He wondered why she had trusted him to do this. Does she want him to answer these questions?


    ¡°Well, before I give you my security codes, we should move on to dining. This way.¡± He gestured down the hallway like an usher.


    ¡°What are your security codes?¡± Pierce asked.


    ¡°Password.¡±


    ¡°Password, huh. I think you jest. You are catching on to my games.¡± They both smiled at this.


    ***


    The two walked down the corridor. Alan was considerably impressed with how spry his companion had been. He found something about the way she moved oddly disorientating. After that had traveled for a bit, it hit him. Her footsteps were virtually silent. Thinking back on it, when she was bouncing around the room, he hadn¡¯t noticed a sound.


    They came to a door with large red warning signs. "Authorized personnel only." "Do Not Enter While Printer is Operational." "Wear PPE at All Times." There were a few that had a stickman undergoing usual stickman misadventures. One where he was dismembered. One where he was covered in goop and appeared to be melting.


    ¡°This,¡± Alan said, ¡°is where food is made!¡±


    Pierce¡¯s eyes did not leave the signs. ¡°Sounds delicious.¡±


    Alan walked over to a large column with a glass cube embedded in it. A keyboard popped out just underneath as he approached. ¡°What kind of food do you got on the other side?¡± He brought up a menu and started looking through things.


    ¡°The kind that doesn¡¯t melt you,¡± she responded. ¡°I am constantly on the go, so I usually eat what is available. Fruit, bread. Anything that can be conjured with a spell, or easily carried in a hand.¡±


    ¡°Hmm, interesting. Have you ever had pizza?¡± Alan started going through the menu. There were over a hundred different varieties of pizza, and that was before one started going down the rabbit hole of different toppings.


    ¡°Not sure if I would know.¡±


    Alan started chose a generic thick crust pizza. A large cheese pizza appeared inside the glass cube. He triggered some fans in the column. The smell of fresh hot bread and cheese started wafting out. He didn¡¯t think it was possible, but Pierce¡¯s eyes grew bigger.


    ¡°That looks amazing,¡± she responded. ¡°Does our food come from in there?¡±


    "No, this is just an image. This kiosk can simulate aromas to help a person decide. The food is made there, and brought to use by drone."


    "So, we don''t have to go into the death room, right?"


    ¡°No death room. This is only the beginning of pizza. In my opinion, the single greatest food of all time.¡± He added pepperoni and jalape?os to half of it. ¡°What kind of toppings do you want?¡±


    ¡°Toppings?¡±


    ¡°You can add stuff to it. Meats tend to include pepperoni, sausage, Canadian bacon, hamburger. Vegetables include anything from olives, to onions, to green and red peppers. Fungi include mushrooms.¡±


    ¡°Just make mine like yours.¡±


    The pizza image changed to reflect this. ¡°And to drink?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s keep it to water today.¡±


    Alan nodded. He clacked the final inputs. A progress bar appeared on each side of the cube, with the words, ¡°Prepping slurry. Estimated time, 14 minutes.¡± They walked over to a nearby table where he sat down. Pierce stood up in the chair, keeping herself eye-level with Alan.


    ¡°What brings you here?¡± Alan said after a moment of silence.


    ¡°I lost something. It somehow ended up on your drone. I followed it here, but lost track of the item when it went through the bridge.¡±


    ¡°Is that why you want to visit drone storage?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but I don¡¯t think it is there. The object disappeared. My fear is that it was made of magic and dissolved when it hit the barrier.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t it have to go somewhere?¡±


    ¡°I would assume so, but where does the air in the bubble go when it pops?¡±


    ¡°What happens if you can¡¯t find it?¡±


    ¡°Eventually I go home, either when I have exhausted all my options, or when you choose to no longer extend your hospitality.¡±


    ¡°What does this MacGuffin look like?¡±


    ¡°MacGuffin?¡±


    "It''s a word for an item of interest, often in a narrative setting."


    ¡°It looks like a round cage with a gem in the bottom. There is an attachment mechanism. It leads me to suspect that it is some kind of staff head or some other kind of ornament.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t know what it is?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not mine, I was merely retrieving it for a client.¡±


    ¡°What do you do?¡±


    Pierce looked over at the troop guarding the entry to the printer room. ¡°That troop has been staring at us.¡± Alan turned to look at it. Its eyes were affixed to their location.


    ¡°Probably Iris checking up on you. She¡¯s pretty... thorough with security.¡± Pierce jumped off her seat and started walking over to the drone. ¡°What are you...?¡±


    Pierce waved at the drone''s face. "Hey," she said, "you want to join us? You can hear us better from over there." The troop''s head dropped momentarily and then returned to attention. "Rude!"


    ¡°Iris has never been credited with an abundance of manners. Although I find it odd that her surveillance was so clumsy.¡±


    "I''m sure she wanted me to know I was watched." Pierce walked back to her seat. "Anyone of the troops can be used by Iris to spy on me?"


    ¡°Unless you are in a lockdown room, any number of things can be used by Iris to watch you. Not just Iris, but any Agent we have on the base. That¡¯s part of the reason we have lockdown.¡±


    ¡°Is there a privacy mode for my room? There are times I wouldn¡¯t want to be observed.¡± She leaned in and whispered, ¡°What if I am naked?¡± Alan thought the way she put this forward, she would have no qualms about getting naked at this moment.


    "I''m not going to lie. Our society has had a questionable relationship with privacy for some time. Often trading it for some kind of luxury. This, however, is a secure base. You leave any illusions of privacy at the door the second you enter. It is possible to trigger a partial lockdown, but any logs made by recording equipment in your room would be uploaded once they lockdown was lifted."


    ¡°What recording equipment?¡±


    ¡°I think I am once again answering questions I shouldn¡¯t.¡±


    "You''re starting to catch on too fast," she said with a sly smile. Alan considered for a moment that this could just be a game to her. She had defeated every challenge she had in her homeworld and started running randomly through portals trying to find new and exciting security systems to defeat. He also postulated that she probably would defeat their security system, and it would be his fault. "You shouldn¡¯t worry about it too much.¡± She looked at the timer on the pizza. ¡°I thought food made with technology would be faster.¡±


    "We emphasized versatility over speed when the slurry was developed. Also, our machine requires service. It runs a little slow and wastes a lot of unaccounted for slurry." There was a gasp as a door opened behind Alan. He turned to look to noticed that the delivery drone was on its way. There were two glasses with their drinks still in a gel form. Sitting in the middle was a frozen pizza. "Finally, watch this." The crust of the pizza started to rise and brown, the cheese on top melted. The jalape?os withered, and the pepperoni curled. Little bits of steam rose off it.


    Alan turned back to Pierce, who was sniffing. "It smells good. You said this was pizza?" She grabbed a slice and started smelling it. She picked off a jalape?o and took a quick whiff of it. She frowned. "This is poison." She began picking all the green bits off the pizza. Probably should have skipped the jalape?os. They probably weren''t the best choice when introducing new cuisine to their guest. Meet and greets weren''t his thing. This was Chekhov''s forte.


    "Those are peppers, they are supposed to spicy. I guess they aren''t good for those who may not be accustomed."


    Alan put her cup on the table. She looked at the gel ball inside, and then back at Alan. "You would think water would be easy." She tipped the glass and the blob slid into her hand. To Alan''s amazement, her delicate touch did not trigger the liquefying reaction. She held it in front of her face a few seconds before putting it back in the glass as fluid as she pulled it out.


    Alan took his glass and shook it, demonstrating the process. Pierce did the same, watching it intently as the beverage filled. "What do you think?" Alan asked. "Impressive?"


    "I think when you come from a realm of magic, there are few impressive things. That being said, I do find trying to understand how it works intriguing." She plucked a piece of ice out of her water. "For example, where does the heat go? Without magic, removing heat from something can be quite a challenge." She dropped the cube back in and took a drink.


    "I think it''s cold, to begin with, and the rest is heated to make water. The ice is mostly aesthetic, though." He took a sip from his soda.


    Pierce grabbed a second slice of pizza and began removing the peppers from it. She stared at the pizza a moment, before setting it back down. "This slurry, it can make something complicated like this pizza? Most of this stuff, if made naturally, would come from living plants and animals. Can the slurry make something living?"


    Alan paused. He looked at his slice of pizza. "I think it depends on what you call living and what you are trying to make. I think that maybe a plant or a fungus could probably be produced that would grow, as one does naturally. I think an animal would be difficult, even with better equipment. There isn''t a blank template for a nervous system, and a brain produced would probably lack the needed wiring to perform instinctual actions like breathing." He pondered some more. "Trying to make living organic things kind of had its time about thirty years ago. Clones, and genetically engineered babies grown in a vat and not a womb lacked a proper immune system." Alan¡¯s tone turned somber. "A few were raised by agents who couldn''t have their children. Many were left to die. They were just experiments, no one wanted to raise them." He took a deep breath and regained some composure. There was a tear running down his cheek. "I think the stigma associated with that work prevents further research down that road today."


    Pierce reached out and touched his arm. "I''m sorry, I didn''t mean for you to go there. I am sure it was a dark time in your history. Sometimes magic makes things possible in ways where the ethical concerns are different. Beings are occasionally conjured from nothing. Often familiars or other magical beings. Very rare is a being created not to be a servant. Statues are animated, kind of like Iris. They are usually puppets, without souls to call their own. Ethical necromancy moved across our world not too long ago. Some places have special graveyards for people who consent to be reanimated."


    ¡°Is your skeleton going to be donated to ethical necromancy?¡± Alan asked. He smiled, but his eyes still had a watery shine to them.


    ¡°No. I mean I support ethical necromancers and what they do. I have no problem with them using my skeleton. I, however, never intend to die.¡±


    Alan looked at her confused. Was this a joke or something that could be achieved? it is technically possible for people today to extend their lifespan far beyond their natural expiration. Most of the causes of unexpected deaths have been removed from the ordinary citizen''s life. Medical science can mend almost any damage since cloned organs were made. Few try to cheat death forever. As she said earlier, few things are impressive when you come from a world of magic. "Are you serious? Wouldn''t you get bored after a few centuries?"


    She burst out laughing. ¡°I¡¯ve already had a few centuries. Life expectancy in my realm is around three hundred. Magic renders death as a temporary setback to people with means.Resurrections are common to those that can afford it.¡±


    ¡°You have means then?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m crafty. I make means.¡±


    "Well, maybe you should sign up to be a minion of the ethical necromancers. Kind of a fall back plan if you fail, you know.¡± He laughed.


    "What about you? Where do you stand on being used for ethical necromancy?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure, I think once I was dead, I would want to stay that way.¡±


    ¡°So, one and done? No res for you?¡±


    ¡°Do I have somewhere important to be? Like a meeting on the importance of ethics in necromancy? Maybe if I was important, I would take a resurrection.¡± Alan pointed at the pizza. ¡°Are you going to want more of this?¡±


    Pierce looked at the remains of her two slices. "Probably not. I think two pieces were a bit much for me." Alan, who had been munching furiously this whole time, grabbed a slice from Pierce''s side of the pizza.


    ¡°I guess smaller portions should have been expected.¡±


    ¡°Is that a dig at my size? I will have you know, had you not put poison on my pizza, I could go for three slices, maybe four...¡± She paused. ¡°That¡¯s a lie, truth is, I took the second slice because I didn¡¯t want it all to go to waste. Watching you eat; however, I realize the fear was misplaced.¡±


    Alan gave a big grin, displaying pizza crumbs in his mouth. ¡°Once we finish our meal, did you want to visit the drone garage next?¡±


    ¡°Is that where the machine I was chasing went?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I assume that Iris placed a maintenance hold on it till you could check it out.¡±


    ¡°I doubt it¡¯s there, but there might be a clue to its whereabouts.¡± She popped a pepper into her mouth. Alan watched with anticipation as he waited for the capsaicin to start working. She chewed for a second, then stuck her tongue out. She pulled it back in and swallowed. She reached for her glass of water and drank. "Not bad for poison." She ate another one. ''I''m ready when you are." She balled the napkin with the jalape?os on it like a little bag and stashed it in her shirt.


    "If you want to live forever, why would you eat something you think is poison?" After biting another one, she grinned. There was pepper stuck in her teeth. Alan finished the remains of the pizza and placed the aftermath on the serving drone. The drone drove off toward the door it came from. "Let''s go!"


    ***


    Alan led the way, following the painted lines on the floor toward the garage. Pierce bounced along behind him, having no trouble keeping up with his gait. It wasn¡¯t long before Pierce stopped dead in her tracks. She was looking through a large display window. The room, marked Gym, contained an array of exercise equipment ranging from treadmills and bicycles to rock climbing walls and half pipes. The thing that had caught her attention was the large parkour course.


    The course started with a series of pillars. The runner was expected to jump from pillar to pillar without losing balance. The next phase was known as a spider walk. When Alan was a small teenager, he would do the spider walk in his hallway. He would press his hands and feet into opposite walls and see how high he could climb. It was much harder now that he was older. After the spider walk, there was a series of monkey bars. The first set you could run over. Then a set you had to swing across. Ending with another running set. What followed was a timing challenge. Several platforms swung back and forth requiring careful jumps to make it to the next. The course ended with a long climb. A halfpipe into a rock-climbing wall, finishing with what is known as a salmon ladder. A feat of upper body strength where one had to pull themselves up with enough momentum to propel the bar up to the next level. Finishing was an accomplishment on its own. Alan had attempted this once. He fell after the second pillar. Physical fortitude was not his forte.


    Pierce started bobbing up and down like a child looking into a toy store. ¡°Can I?¡± Alan opened the door and made an ¡®after you¡¯ gesture. Pierce dashed passed him and ran over to the start of the obstacle course.


    Alan walked up behind her. There was a digital display that had ¡°Kimiko, 29.3 seconds. Iris, 29.4 seconds.¡± He imagined after the display Pierce made with the eye scanner, that she might be able to put those times to test.


    Pierce bounced a couple of times before launching into a full run. She made it past the first three pillars before coming up short on the fourth. She fell onto the soft mat below. She stood up. Her brow was furrowed in frustration. She walked back to the start line and began again. It was the second pillar the let her down this time. She got up and dusted off. Her third run made it almost to the spider wall before she fell. On the way to the floor, her arm and head came into contact with the pillar.


    She walked back to Alan, dejected. ¡°Something is wrong here,¡± she said. There was a small amount of blood coming out of her forehead. ¡°I feel heavier.¡±


    "Are you okay?" Alan asked, summoning a medic drone. In his field of view, a message appeared. "Blood has been identified; would you like to prep your immune system for bloodborne pathogens?" He confirmed this, checking the box to ''remember his choice.''


    She wiped the blood from her face and looked at it. "I think the real pain is my pride."


    "Snitches get stitches!" came a small machine voice. Alan turned toward the incoming medic. A black head resembling a plague mask sat on top of smooth lab coat shape. Two snakes wrapped around a rod, the traditional medical symbol, was painted on one arm. Chekhov had replaced the old head, a baby-like old man when Kimiko complained a few weeks ago. She was also responsible for the colorful new greeting.


    It glided over to Pierce. It opened its body, revealing a good stock of medical supplies. It pulled out a towel that they used to clean the blood. It carefully examined the head wound and the arm. It looked at Pierce. "Are you a snitch, little girl?"


    "I am neither a little girl nor am I snitch!" she said furiously.


    "Hmm, I apologize miss. You are not a snitch, but it does indeed appear you need stitches. Will you still be wanting a sucker and a balloon?¡±


    Alan whispered at her, ¡°Take the sucker, leave the balloon.¡±


    Pierce nodded. The medic used something resembling a glue gun and applied some cold liquid to her wound. A pen with a bright blue light on the end was used to harden the material. The machine pulled out some pills and a sucker and held them out to Pierce.


    Pierce looked at the medicine, then at Alan confused. ¡°It¡¯s for the pain,¡± Alan remarked. She took the sucker and waved off the medicine. She pocketed the sucker and the medic glided off in the direction it came from.


    ¡°I think I am done with this for now.¡±


    They left the gym. Pierce was moving a little bit slower, but it didn¡¯t appear to Alan that it was the result of the injury. ¡°I hope you try that again someday.¡±


    "My cloak, where I am from, is enchanted. It prevents me from falling," she intoned. "I guess I overestimated how much it helped me."


    Alan stopped and looked down at her. "I think the problem is you aren''t calibrated right. You said it yourself, you felt heavy." Alan knelt and put his hand on her shoulder. He looked at her for a moment. He wanted to be more encouraging, but he couldn''t. Everything he thought to say was the same stuff that frustrated him and made him angry when he was down. Blind optimism often made him feel worse, not better.


    He sat in silence. After a moment, she shrugged off his hand and looked back at him. Her eyes were watery. ¡°This hasn¡¯t been my day. Let¡¯s check out the drone and get back to my room.¡±


    ¡°Will do.¡± He stood up, and once again resumed following the path toward the garage.


    ***


    Alan heard a message chime as they got close to the garage. He took his glasses off and rubbed his forehead before putting them on and opening the message. Dr. Rosenberg popped up in front of him.


    "I see you are heading to the garage. Some of your equipment malfunctioned today. I would hope it would be the standard operating procedure to check that out before we had a big mission. I guess you wanted to prove you were essential. Can you correct this while you are in there?" The message ended there and Rosenberg disappeared. Alan took off his glasses and started to throw them. He stopped just short, clenching his teeth and balling his fist. The equipment in question is checked regularly and double-checked before it is put to use. He wasn''t sure what went down today, but the implication of incompetence was not needed.


    Pierce jumped on a nearby trashcan and placed her hand on his shoulder. When Alan finally looked at her, she was staring at his face. "When I hit the pillar, it hurt a lot." Alan forgot his rage for a second as confusion overtook it. "What I am saying is... sometimes things hurt. That''s okay." She dropped off the trash can and walked over to the door to the garage. She turned around, "I can''t open the door."


    Alan restored his glasses and opened the garage door. He led Pierce past two dozen troops, six servant drones, and three baby-old man medics to a separate room. The rover in the middle of the room bore a stark resemblance to its ancestor that once went to mars. It had six all-terrain wheels that were capable of maneuvering over complex terrain. Its chassis was rather boxy with a camera extending above most of it, giving it a turtle-like appearance. There was an arm pultruding out the front to manipulate and gather objects.


    Alan grabbed a tablet from a workbench and triggered a standard diagnostic test. Pierce walked to the rear of the machine. She grabbed a stool so she could get a good view. It didn¡¯t take long for her to find a gem.


    ¡°What did you find?¡± Alan asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s a focus gem. It would be used to direct magical energy through the staff head, which is nowhere to be found.¡± She felt around on the aluminum frame. ¡°There is a bump here.¡±


    Alan walked around and touched it. There was a small indentation. He ran a small handheld device over the area. "Maybe there are residual materials here. It will take a minute to analyze the results."


    Pierce sat down on the stool. She held the gemstone to the light and examined it closely. ¡°This isn¡¯t very encouraging. This was embedded in the staff head. The object is either shattered or dissolved.¡±


    Alan¡¯s diagnostics had come back. As near as he could tell there was nothing wrong. He started looking through the logs. ¡°The place where you encountered our rover,¡± he said, ¡°what was it like?¡±


    ¡°It was a library, a large library. It was built on technology, much like this place. There was magic there as well, but it was isolated.¡±


    Alan could see why Rosenberg thought the equipment was malfunctioning. There were several different instruments to measure distance. They seemed to disagree. Primarily ones that used radar or lasers reported near-zero distance. "I am trying to look at these readings. They don''t make much sense."


    "That doesn''t surprise me. I was lost for hours. That place kind of had its geometry. Are you familiar with right triangles? Trigonometry? The relationships between sides?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m an engineer and a programmer. Of course. The hypotenuse of a right triangle is equal to the sum of the square of the two sides. A squared plus b squared equals c squared.¡±


    ¡°That isn¡¯t true in that library. I think the ground was curved, but you couldn¡¯t tell by looking at it.¡±


    Alan nodded, even though he didn¡¯t quite understand. He could believe physics behaved differently, to the point where magic could happen, but math always works. He watched the log as the rover crossed back into his world. When it encountered the event horizon, the weight of the craft dropped suddenly. ¡°Were you heavier there too?¡±


    ¡°Not to my recollection.¡±


    There was a beep on his scanner. What he observed there was even more confusing. ¡°The MacGuffin. It¡¯s made of emtonium.¡±

 Chapter 5: Testing for Magic

    When the interloper first crossed the bridge, Jaye was not in an optimum position to observe. A lockdown was triggered immediately preventing any communication from the observation area and the bridge zone. After she had crossed the barrier, the interloper froze almost immediately, as the drone drove off to the maintenance area. The interloper slowly and deliberately removed their outer garment careful not to alarm the armed troops who were pointing weapons at her. She dropped it on the floor and raised her hands in the air.


    Iris descended into the scene and this was when the great stare-down occurred. Both participants were unmoving statues. Iris appeared to be ready to decapitate the interloper. The interloper ready to avoid any incoming strikes. It was unclear, despite Iris¡¯s perceived superiority, who would come out of such a showdown.


    Very little happened in the next fifteen minutes, as Iris continued to tower nearly three times the height of the interloper. Kimiko, wearing an air-filter mask, joined them at the nine-minute mark. Jaye was unable to read anything off the interloper due to a lack of previous data. Time spent with Kimiko made her disciplined apprehension clear.


    The stalemate broke when Kimiko appeared to fight off a feint. It was subtle. Jaye checked Chekhov to see if she had noticed. A general concern was dominant, but no signs she saw the incident. The interloper did however. Her eyes flicked to Kimiko and back to Iris quickly. That was when Iris changed. She retracted her blades. Her face changed to a safe green, and she lowered herself to eye-level with the interloper. Kimiko still appeared apprehensive. There was a change, and she wasn''t hiding it as well.


    Iris and the interloper started talking. The interloper turned her head away from the observation area so her lips couldn''t be read. Kimiko was sent away, and finally, the observation blinds were closed. Chekhov left, and Jaye was alone in the room.


    It was twenty minutes later when Iris appeared before her. Jaye was troubled by how difficult it was to determine if this was the real Iris or an AR projection. Iris applied a filter, making the transmission appear cell shaded.


    ¡°Can magic exist beyond the bridge?¡± Iris asked.


    "It''s a matter of definitions. Magic, by our definition, is supernatural. Anything that exists, by the mere aspect of existing, is natural. Therefore, magic does not exist. However, something Dr. Rosenberg does not seem to understand, is that there is no guarantee that the laws of physics are consistent across universes. Taking that into consideration, there can phenomena that could be referred to as magic, either by us or by the inhabitants of the place across the bridge.¡±


    ¡°With the assumption that magic is real, can it work here?¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t enough data to formulate a hypothesis.¡±


    ¡°I am going to task you with answering the questions. We have some items to examine as a starting point. You are in charge of this, not Dr. Rosenberg.¡±


    ¡°He won¡¯t like that.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not your problem. Prepare for information transfer.¡±


    Jaye accepted the download. The information poured into her head like a memory. She gained some information from the data. The interloper''s name is Pierce. She comes from a realm where magic is "real." There were basic details on how magic works. Items belonging to the interloper are being moved to the lab. A book, and two vials full of black liquid, had a lot of magic attached before crossing the bridge. The blackened liquid concerned the interloper, saying it could be "cursed", however, the interloper was unsure if the curse could be passed onto non-organic life forms such as Jaye. The file also included directions to be relayed to Alan.


    The items were placed in quarantine although they had been checked and rechecked for any known dangers. They weren''t radioactive. They didn''t contain pathogens. They didn''t create any odd physics anomalies such as excessive gravity. The items were everything they appeared to be. A random assortment of tools that someone who was in the habit of being where they don''t belong might carry.


    Jaye focused her attention on the two vials of unknown liquid. Other than their black color, nothing else could be isolated other than water. She started several threads on how to work the problem and her thinking was having an appreciable effect on the environment.


    Jaye was often bemused at some of Alan''s old movies and TV shows that featured some ''superior AI'' being defeated by a logical paradox. Paradoxes were easy to defeat, as soon as one was detected, it was labeled a paradox and kicked aside. Jaye, who''s work involved inter-dimensional travel and possibly time-travel, was excessively skilled at finding solutions to counter-intuitive problems. If you wanted to hang up an AI you would have to give them a problem resembling a busy beaver algorithm. A busy beaver program looks at a tape and follows instructions. The goal is to find the longest one that stops. Each new ruleset complicates the matter significantly. The only way to know the answer is to run the machine. Sometimes these machines would run forever before halting or looping on themselves. Figuring out where to start in an unknown phenomenon that may not comply with any known laws of physics is a busy beaver problem.


    Alan designed her chassis to use a method similar to respiration to control her temperature. Small vents around her face expelled hot air out and pulled cold air in with each breath. The lab''s typically cooler temperature helped Jaye maintain peak performance for longer than usual. However, the temperature of the room had gained by three degrees Celsius, and Jaye would have to terminate several threads soon or risk permanent damage to her components.


    Jaye put herself into sleep-mode so that she could cool off. She cached her best ideas so far and would go deeper into them after the break. She was awoken by the sound of Chekhov''s voice. "The upgrade was supposed to help you, instead it seems worse."


    As expected, Kimiko''s voice was next. "I''m fine, Stitches gave me a clean bill of health. Besides upgrades always come with an acclimation period."


    ¡°In addition to the dizzy spells, you are having nightmares. I can hear you crying in your sleep. Stitches is good with wet-ware. Have Alan go over your hardware.¡±


    ¡°This conversation is getting too personal,¡± Kimiko stated. ¡°I think we should continue this later.¡±


    It struck Jaye that it was out of character for Kimiko to ignore a possible security risk. She considered intervening on behalf of Chekhov. It didn¡¯t take very many cycles for her to determine that most of these would result in increased animosity between Chekhov and Kimiko. Kimiko would become defensive and would be less inclined to seek the attention she needed. Counterintuitively, Chekhov would also be hostile toward intervention from Jaye. Once her thread was complete, she decided that she would approach Chekhov, encouraging her to apply pressure on Kimiko. She would also mention her observation to Alan. Alan would hopefully wait till he noticed something and intervene. If she was available at that time, she would throw her support behind Alan. Avoiding the entire conflict with Chekhov, and circumventing most excuses that would be put forth by Kimiko.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t over, if you want me to drop it now, you have to promise to pick it up later,¡± Chekhov said.


    ¡°Promise,¡± Kimiko responded.


    ¡°Patented?¡±


    Kimiko let out a drawn-out breath. ¡°Patented.¡±


    A following moment of silence was interrupted with Chekhov noting, "It''s a little warmer than usual in here. Jaye, what''s going on?"


    Jaye noted the painting of a snowflake, the painting Chekhov made for her. She returned her attention to the array of things taken from the interloper. ¡°I have been given the task of determining if magic is real. As it stands, I am having difficulty determining a starting point for experimentation.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s your hypotheses?¡± Chekhov asked. Kimiko walked over to the items in the case and started studying them.


    ¡°Magic is real,¡± Jaye said.


    ¡°That seems a bit broad,¡± Chekhov responded. ¡°No wonder you are having trouble.¡±


    ¡°How about, Pierce is a thief?¡± Kimiko put forth. ¡°She has a lock-picking set. This weapon,¡± she gestured toward the slingshot, ¡°mild amount of defense. Not something I would rely on in a scrape. However, if I wanted to put lights out, or distract someone. This would be my go-to weapon of choice.¡±


    ¡°Observation. Hypotheses. How would you go about testing this?¡± Jaye asked.


    ¡°Ask her,¡± Chekhov responded.


    ¡°Not far from the truth. We¡¯d have to do an interrogation. I¡¯d consider setting up a honey pot. See if she goes for the bait.¡±


    ¡°If you assume she is a thief,¡± Jaye remarked, ¡°you will bias your interpretation of the evidence.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not my job to do science. It¡¯s my job to identify threats. Is she willing to steal? Is she willing to kill? Those are the types of questions I have to answer.¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t know if she is willing to kill until she kills something,¡± Chekhov put forth, ¡°assuming she is not honest when questioned, that is.¡±


    ¡°Put her in a room with one other person and a knife. Leave her in there with no other food source. If she kills the person and eats them, she is capable of killing, if she starves to death or is killed by the other person, then she is not a killer,¡± Jaye proposed.


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that make us killers?¡± Chekhov asked. Kimiko gave her a slightly uncomfortable look. ¡°In fairness, she warned us about the potential dangers of her stuff. We just don¡¯t know how to test it.¡±


    There is a trick that agents can do when they encounter a dead thread like the ones she was faced with before. Running the thread in the background and allowing irrelevant information to influence the parameters, she can narrow down on a course of action, even if it isn''t the best one. "The experiment would be highly unethical, however, it''s principals aren''t." She turned toward Chekhov. "I need four white roses and two vases. Let''s give this stuff the opportunity to kill."If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Chekhov nodded and left the room. Kimiko continued looking at the items. ¡°There is something that is off about these items. I can¡¯t quite place it.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s probably the anachronisms,¡± Jaye said.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°This paper is old, in the sense that it doesn¡¯t use any manufacturing techniques more advanced than the first piece of paper. These tools, on the other hand, were built using mass production techniques... some of them anyway. And then there are these goggles. These aren¡¯t much different than the AR glasses that Alan is fond of.¡±


    ¡°This book appears to be made using modern standards.¡±


    ¡°The book isn¡¯t from Pierce¡¯s world. It¡¯s from the library in between worlds.¡±


    Chekhov returned carrying the four roses in the two vases. She also had a guest. Right behind her came Dr. Rosenberg. ¡°It looks like you guys are in here doing science without me,¡± he said. ¡°Why wasn¡¯t I notified?¡±


    ¡°I hadn¡¯t reached a point where your input was required,¡± Jaye said.


    ¡°I should be consulted on all science matters,¡± he said sharply.


    Jaye took the roses from Chekhov. She placed one in a vase outside the quarantine. Everything else was placed into an entry chamber. ¡°This is my project. Iris assigned this to me.¡±


    "She doesn''t have that kind of authority. I am the lead at this place." He looked at the roses that Jaye was now placing in the two vials of black liquid. A third was placed in its vase inside isolation. "What are you doing? Some kind of high school science experiment?"


    ¡°I am testing for lethal properties.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve got all these scanners, all these tests, have you bothered to run them?¡±


    Jaye picked up a tablet and handed it to him. "Feel free to browse the results. If you see anything I haven''t done, I''d be more than happy to do it for you."


    Rosenberg snatched the tablet up. He flicked through the different data; an annoyed look came across his face. "None of this is remarkable in any way," He said.


    Jaye shook her head and pointed at the black liquid. ¡°Anything in there tell you why it¡¯s black?¡±


    He flicked back a few results. ¡°The spectrum indicates that it reflects no light. That¡¯s why it¡¯s black.¡±


    Chekhov started fighting back laughter. Jaye, on the other hand, was not as amused. "That''s just another way of saying it''s black," she said. "All the other tests, however, indicate there is nothing there but water."


    Rosenberg shook his head and handed the pad to Chekhov. She began looking through the results just as the doctor had done before her. ¡°The temperature seems a bit low,¡± she said. "It doesn''t seem to track with the room. No gain while the room warmed."


    Chekhov handed the tablet back to Jaye. She observed the relatively flat line and compared it to the increase caused by her processor. ¡°Good catch.¡±


    They heard the elevator arrive. When the doors opened, Alan was standing there with the interloper. He was laughing. ¡°Jaye,¡± he said as they exited the elevator, ¡°we have a few questions for you.¡±


    ¡°Not a problem,¡± she responded. She looked at Pierce. ¡°I have more than a few questions for the interloper.¡±


    ¡°Hey! Interloper?¡± Pierce said indignantly. ¡°An unwelcome guest! That¡¯s....fitting I suppose.¡± Alan grabbed a chair and placed it amongst the growing group of people. Pierce promptly scaled the seat so she could be level with everybody else.


    ¡°Jaye,¡± Alan said, ¡°what would happen if an object made of emtonium crossed the bridge?¡±


    ¡°As it crossed the event horizon,¡± Rosenberg responded, ¡°It would merge temporarily with energetic material.¡± Chekhov rolled her eyes in his direction.


    Pierce looked at Alan. ¡°Is this the guy?¡± she asked. Alan nodded. ¡°Mr. Mustache--¡±


    ¡°Dr. Musta¡ªRosenberg,¡± He responded dryly.


    ¡°Dr. Rosenberg? Is your first name Jaye?¡±


    ¡°No, it is Wade.¡±


    ¡°So, what prompted you to answer just now?¡± Pierce had adopted a tone not that much different than a pre-school teacher lecturing a student on the importance of sharing.


    ¡°I knew the answer.¡± Wade started cleaning his glasses.


    "Does Jaye know the answer?" With each question, Pierce leaned a little closer to Dr. Rosenberg.


    ¡°I would assume she does.¡±


    ¡°So, if Jaye was asked a question that she knows the answer to, don¡¯t you think it would be appropriate to allow her to answer?¡±


    ¡°Well...um?¡±


    ¡°Do you know the...what did you call it, Alan?¡±


    ¡°Pythagorean theorem,¡± he said.


    ¡°Yeah, that? Do you know that?¡± There was a direct correlation between Pierce¡¯s smile and Dr. Rosenberg¡¯s discomfort.


    ¡°Of course, I know that! The square of the hypotenuse of a right triangle is equal to the sum of the square of the remaining sides!¡±


    ¡°What if I told you it wasn¡¯t always true?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be preposterous. Math is math. A triangle is a triangle.¡±


    Jaye started analyzing Pierce¡¯s cryptic line of questioning. In a short time, it appeared that Pierce and Alan had created a rapport. Rosenberg was upset with the readings from the explorer while it was on the other side of the bridge and blamed Alan. More to the point, the navigation seemed wrong. Distances were off. Rosenberg sent a message strongly insinuating that Alan was incompetent. Jaye knew Alan had done his due diligence on the software and hardware of the equipment. While reading errors was an avenue worth pursuing, it was not the only option.


    When is a triangle not a triangle? If you drew a triangle large enough on the surface of the earth, at some point, it would cease to be a triangle. Despite what the people on Alan¡¯s forums may say, the earth is not flat. A triangle on a curved surface is not a triangle. ¡°The library only appeared flat,¡± she said, ¡°It¡¯s curved like a bowl.¡± She started doing internal calculations and the math started to make sense.


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Rosenberg said.


    ¡°Like a bowl?¡± Pierce asked. She cocked her head to one side. ¡°I can see that.¡± She turned her attention back to Rosenberg. Without leaving her perch, she managed to intrude on the Doctor¡¯s personal space. ¡°Even if the spider cart was broke, doesn¡¯t mean it was my friend¡¯s fault. You could use a little... understanding of others.¡±


    ¡°Empathy,¡± Chekhov said, ¡°I think the word you are looking for is empathy.¡±


    Rosenberg¡¯s face reddened. ¡°I have better things to do than be lectured by a sprite,¡± he grumbled. Pierce¡¯s smile faded. He paced quickly through the room, ignoring the positions of everybody, and left the room.


    ¡°What¡¯s his purpose?¡± Pierce asked.


    "He is technically head of research," Jaye said, ¡°He devised the necessary structure to create emtonium, and hypothesized the bridge. He is knowledgeable, but he has a hard time challenging his assumptions.¡±


    ¡°And emtonium is? The...MacGuffin... was made of the stuff.¡±


    ¡°MacGuffin? That sounds like an Alan word. Emtonium is a dense material. Under the correct circumstances, it allows quantum effects to operate on a macro scale. For example, creating an inter-verse bridge.¡±


    ¡°So,¡± Alan said, ¡°back to where we were before the diversion. What happened to the MacGuffin?¡±


    "As Rosenberg said, it would become excited as it crossed the bridge, temporarily fusing with it." Jaye paused to run some probability models. "When the bridge powered down, it would return to its previous state. Eighty-three percent chance it''s on this side of the bridge. Fourteen percent that it is still in the library. Three percent that it fell into the unknown, or failed to un-fuse with the bridge."


    Kimiko had her hand on her temple. ¡°I need to go,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ve got business to attend to.¡±


    She started walking toward the door. ¡°Didn¡¯t you have questions for the interloper?¡± Jaye asked at the same time Alan asked, ¡°are you okay?¡± There was a look of concern on Chekhov¡¯s face. Pierce was staring intently, seeing something the others did not see.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine. Stitches cleared me.¡±


    ¡°Still,¡± Alan said, ¡°It can¡¯t hurt to do a once over on your cybernetics.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not in the mood to be poked and prodded. And as for the thief, I will interrogate her later.¡± Kimiko, much like Rosenberg before her, left the room.


    Jaye once again noted that Kimiko¡¯s response was out of character. A long silence was broken by Pierce. ¡°Thief? I¡¯m ¡­ Interloper! Thief is... accurate... it¡¯s a respectable profession.¡± She turned toward Chekhov. ¡°Was she walking funny?¡±


    Chekhov, fighting back tears, ¡°I¡¯m not sure what you are talking about.¡± Jaye noted that Chekhov appeared to be obscuring information, perhaps covering for Kimiko.


    ¡°It¡¯s not like her to ignore a security risk,¡± Alan said.


    ¡°Sure, I can gauge from your responses that nothing about that interaction was normal. But that walk though?¡±


    Jaye replayed Kimiko''s departure through her head. She traced her movement and compared it to previous observations. The start was awkward at first but smoothed out. However, there was a distinctive difference in her walk. ¡°Analisis shows that the walk was indeed funny. What are you getting at?¡±


    ¡°Memories of a recent out of body experience. Probably nothing.¡±


    Chekhov turned away from everyone. Alan approached her. ¡°Hey,¡± he said. He held his arms open. She turned toward him and leaned into the hug.


    When they separated, Chekhov wiped underneath her eye. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to do. I don¡¯t know what is wrong. It¡¯s been going on since her last upgrade. She gets hostile anytime I bring it up.¡±


    ¡°I know I am new here,¡± Pierce said, ¡°but it seems odd that your medical machines can¡¯t fix human machines.¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t a priority for their designers,¡± Alan said dryly. He walked off to the corner of the room and to make a call.


    An intercom speaker featuring the voice of Dr. Rosenberg abruptly broke in. ¡°Is my badge in the lab?¡±


    Jaye scanned the surroundings looking for signs of the badge, taking special note of the reaction of the interloper. The badge was absent from view, and the interloper showed no signs of deception. She replayed the interaction from earlier. He appeared to have the badge on when he left.


    ¡°I do not believe your badge is here,¡± Jaye said.


    ¡°Did you even look?¡± his voice boomed. ¡°Is Kimiko in there? She isn¡¯t answering her coms.¡±


    ¡°She left moments ago.¡± Chekhov¡¯s voice cracked a little as she said this, followed by an audible sniff.


    ¡°My memory indicates that you had it on your person when you left,¡± Jaye said. ¡°You should retrace your steps since you left the room.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t. I am being held at a checkpoint.¡± The next thing he said grumbled with frustration. ¡°I think I am going to have to replace it. Thank you!¡± His tone indicated that ¡°Thanks for nothing,¡± was more in line with his mood.


    Alan finished his call and returned to the group. ¡°Iris says to stay aware but to respect her privacy.¡± There was a collective nod from everyone. He looked at Jaye. ¡°The changes you requested are ready. We can install them tomorrow if you are ready for surgery.¡±


    Jaye nodded. An oversight in her design allowed AR to fed into her audio/visual input signal without her permission or knowledge. The dangers of this became apparent when she received a call after finishing a charge cycle. She spent fifteen minutes talking to Alan, unaware he wasn¡¯t really in the room. Upon investigation, this vulnerability was exploited previously. Something Iris experienced firsthand when her squad was infected by rogues. Alan had devised a way to force highlight AR objects so they stand out from real items. This required a hardware change to decouple the AR pipeline from the standard visual feed. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    Alan smiled at her. ¡°After that project, I need your help with my next one. Stitches is going to get an upgrade. Full agent status.¡±


    ¡°Why are you doing that?¡± Chekhov asked. Her voice had calmed significantly.


    ¡°We need an on-sight doctor who can take care of all our needs, both organic and cyber components. An agent can be quickly brought current with all that and would provide valuable future-proofing. We need a doctor that can think, not just one that can execute. Should have been done sooner. I¡¯ve been dragging my feet on this one.¡± Alan looked down for a moment and showed a face he hides often. He shook his head, and his smile returned. ¡°Fortunately, we have a soul chip on hand.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a result,¡± Chekhov said, any previous distress completely forgotten. She was looking at the isolation chamber. Jaye turned to look and see what she was talking about. The two control roses were the same as they were before. The roses in the potentially magical potions had changed. One was red, almost like Chekhov¡¯s hair. It had nearly doubled in size with an unusually thick extra thorny stem. The other one had turned yellow. It was smaller than it was before. It had taken on a wispy look to it. The formerly black water was now completely clear.


    ¡°That is a result,¡± Jaye echoed.


    While Chekhov and Alan looked at the roses with fascination, Pierce looked closely with disappointment and worry. ¡°The magic is used,¡± she said. ¡°These roses will be dead tomorrow.¡± The next day, the roses were dead.

 Chapter 6: Getting Lucky

    Pierce¡¯s prediction coming true surprised no one. She was the de facto expert on magic in the facility. What she didn''t tell them is why they died. For a short time, when they were infused with magic, they became dependent on it. When the magic faded, they faded. She looked down at her hands. The aura she had known her entire life was missing. Her magic was fading, and she feared she would fade like the roses.


    Getting home was becoming more important and more difficult. Even if she could find her item, the base was completely locked down. Apparently, there were rumblings that the dark being the called the Last of the Rogues had started developing a following. This Cult of Rogues had infiltrated several secure places of power. There would be no leaving until this was resolved.


    She picked up the controller and started playing a game Alan had showed her. This one focused on sneaking; her favorite pastime. It was painfully obvious that the security systems she was interacting with were designed to be defeated. The guards never noticed any of their fellows missing, for example. There were major holes in the patrol routes. Security mechanisms were locked with riddles. Despite these limitations, she enjoyed this. It helped her focus.


    Alan would be arriving soon to take her to game night. She had been intrigued by the overlap between her home and this fictional world they had created. This would also give her another opportunity to see the Old Man. She had managed to take his security badge using a technique she referred to as a delayed lift. A questionable maneuver that relied heavily on chance. The clip would be loosened to a point where a few jarring steps would knock it loose. Agitating the Old Man would ensure the steps be fast and fierce. He would be too distracted to notice it fall. The final trick was collecting it before anyone noticed. A lift wasn''t a lift until the item was secured in hand.


    The badge itself was useless in its current state. As she had been warned, a missing badge would be disabled the second it was reported. However, if a badge failed to function in the hands of the correct owner, it would be re-flashed to the proper codes. If a lost badge was discovered and flashed, there would be two badges. One of those badges would be in her hands. This is why it was critical that she saw the Old Man again.


    She had found manipulating people remarkably easy. Alan was more helpful than he intended to be in this regard. She had told him how she spent time with a tribe of people who feasted on the "eyes of their enemies," and that "Dr. Rosenberg was her enemy." This was more or less true. Since they were in a jocular mood, they made a delicacy out of his eyes. Alan even used the Old Man''s eye scan for maximum accuracy. The resulting eyes were modified so they wouldn''t decay, or release any strong odors. She made the flavor match a hard-boiled egg. She figured she might have to pop a few in her mouth to be convincing, and the taste of raw eyeballs was not that appetizing. She would need the artist with blood-colored hair, and the scary bird machine for the final steps.


    The issue with the security woman seems to have been forgotten. Her odd behavior was an aberration and did not continue. Pierce did not know exactly what happened, but if it had been her own world, she would have suspected possession. She would also be at tonight''s activity, no doubt trying to probe further into Pierce''s past as a thief. It will be an interesting exchange. The metal woman with the blades pegged her the second she walked through the portal, and she adopted a policy of honesty while she was here. At least when they ask questions.


    Two guards were peering blindly into the darkness, trying to figure out the cause of the noise she had just created. Well trained guards would work as a pair. One would check the noise, while the one watched their back ensuring no thug with a blackjack could render them both unconscious. She briefly considered doing just this before deciding to push her avatar toward the unlocked door on the right. Once she was safely in shadow, she fired a distraction in the opposite direction and watched the two guards run off to investigate.


    She chuckled at the incompetence of these guys. She saved her game and turned it off. She stood up and started walking around the room. Most of her stuff had been returned to her with the exception of the book. The smaller metal woman had read through it, and now it was in Alan''s possession. He was quite interested in it, showing an aptitude of understanding that exceeded her own. He was running what he called a "deep learning algorithm" trying to tease out patterns and build upon them. To Pierce, it was just a cookbook with a little light theory, but in Alan''s hands, it was a solid foundation.


    She pulled the goggles from her forehead down to her eyes. Alan had helped her set these up and gave her enough understanding of how to use them for her purposes. With them, she managed to locate all the recording devices in her room. As she suspected, the one in the bathroom did not record video but heat. She made a point to take long hot showers daily, hoping that obscured her presence.


    She started examining the ¡°service drone access.¡± The corridor was a bit small, and most people would feel uncomfortable. This would not be a problem for her. What was a problem for her was the lock. The access was held shut by two magnetic blocks. One of these was fed by an energy storage unit, that also connected to external power. If she were to cut these, it appeared a suspended rod would fall into the door seizing it up. All that was complicated further by the fact that she couldn¡¯t actually reach the parts. She had tried to interfere with the mechanism with magnets of her own to no success. She tried to follow a drone out, but it simply blocked the path.


    The main exit had a similar lock. It had some extras pieces to integrate the eye scanner. Breaching this door had a bigger issue. The drone that sat outside who she and Alan had taken to calling Trooper Bob never tired. Bob was friendly but didn¡¯t seem to be easily manipulated. Anything out of the normal, Iris and Kimiko would be alerted instantaneously. Ultimately, the problem was the same. If she left the room, they would know she wasn¡¯t in it. She didn¡¯t fully understand how the locks worked. The second she left the room; they could track her anywhere she went.


    She moved the goggles back to her forehead. While she pondered her potential escape routes, there was a chime at the door. She walked over to the door a pressed the button to allow entry. Alan, the red woman, and the metal woman all walked in. The woman, whose name sounded like Check-Off, reached into her pocket and pulled out a small carved figure.


    Pierce took the item and started examining it. What she held in her hand was a carving of a beautiful tall woman. She had blue hair and bunny ears. She wore an elegant dress. In her hands was a lyre. The most striking part was the eyes. They were Pierce''s eyes. How she got such fine detail without magic was beyond Pierce. She didn''t know the full capabilities of technology, but she suspected this was pure skill.


    ¡°This is powerful,¡± Pierce said. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    Chekov smiled and bowed. "This room is a little bare. How would you feel about painting to warm it up?"


    Pierce''s smile faltered a little bit. She never had a place to decorate, and these walls were no more hers than any previous walls since she had left the Acadamy. She was a nomad, and a home wasn''t something that she had. "Can it be a small one? Like, could be fit in a pocket?"


    ¡°I thought your pockets were magic?¡± Chekhov quipped. ¡°Of course, and I can put it in a special frame so that you don¡¯t have to worry about damage.¡±


    ¡°My pockets are magic, but I still have to rummage around in them to find stuff. Your stuff is good. I¡¯ve seen things made with magic that weren¡¯t quite as good.¡± Pierce turned toward Jaye. ¡°How are you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m still adjusting to my new perspective. Alan warned me what could happen. I should have better prepared myself.¡±


    ¡°She will be fine once her software adjusts,¡± Alan said. ¡°She now has a separate data stream for each type of vision, with a standard camera taking priority. Before there was a pre-processor that combined the information for her, based on what she wanted. Now she has to do that separately. Enough time passes, she will be able to do it instinctively just like she used to. Her interpretation software just needs to retrain.¡±


    Pierce nodded as if she understood that. Jaye couldn''t see like she used to, just like Pierce. Time may enable her to operate at the same capacity she did before. She understood that Jaye did this to avoid mind control. Apparently, her kind is particularly susceptible to this. The other ironwoman had witnessed these dangers first hand. Pierce wondered why Alan, who always wore those glasses, and Kimiko, who had machine parts in her, were not more concerned with this. Of course, signs show that Kimiko might actually be compromised. Something Iris had mentioned to her on the first day here.


    ¡°Are you having any success finding holes in our security?¡± Alan asked.


    Pierce looked at him and smiled. ¡°It got harder when you stopped answering questions you shouldn¡¯t, but I¡¯ve found several ways out of this room. Unfortunately, I do not have the skill set to exploit them. Without magic, I feel pretty much helpless.¡±


    ¡°Why are we encouraging the interloper to escape?¡± Jaye asked.


    Alan laughed. ¡°An untested security system will have holes,¡± he explained. ¡°Pierce, a thief from another dimension, has a new perspective on security that we didn¡¯t have when building it.¡±


    ¡°For a thief, you aren¡¯t very shy about it,¡± Chekhov said.


    Pierce grabbed a small bag of dice from a table. ¡°Well, you pretty much had me pegged from the beginning. If I am going to get home. I need you to trust me. In order to do that, I have to be honest.¡±


    ¡°Her logic is sound,¡± Jaye said. ¡°Should we get a move on?¡±


    ¡°I think I am ready,¡± Pierce responded. Alan opened the door. They left with Chekhov leading the way. Jaye followed Pierce, and Alan took up the rear.


    ¡°You said that thieving was a legitimate profession,¡± Chekhov said as they traveled down the hallways. ¡°How does that work?¡±


    ¡°I mean... if you get caught... there are still punishments. I may have exaggerated a bit. The thief''s guild tends to spread some of the ill-begotten wealth around. This tends to endear them to the poorer folk. There is a huge disparity between the rich and the poor, especially when one considers some can do magic others can''t. Good thieves balance that power.¡±


    ¡°Kimiko would point out you are still committing an immoral act and justifying it with ¡®good deeds.¡¯ You claim to be addressing inequality, but your charity comes at the expense of others.¡±


    ¡°Imagine you are a baker. If you want to make bread, you have to acquire the ingredients. You have to have an oven. You have to fuel the oven to make heat and produce the bread. To make enough to sell, you have to spend a significant portion of your day cooking the bread. Then you have to take the bread to the market place to sell. Let me ask you a question, what is better? Fresh bread or bread that¡¯s been sitting around for hours?


    ¡°Fresh of course,¡± Alan responded.


    ¡°Now you live a world with magic. Without magic, there seems to be one unshakable truth. You can¡¯t get anything without getting something in return.¡±This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    ¡°Thermodynamics,¡± Jaye said.


    ¡°With magic, to make bread, you just need a little magic. Using the magic that attaches to a single piece of wheat you can make tenfold the bread the baker makes in a single day. Your bread is always fresh because you can make it in seconds. And you never have to throw any away. There is no rhyme or reason why some people can do magic and others can¡¯t. Some of it is inherited. Some people can do it without much effort. Some people train forever and can never do even a simple spark. There are those that go from nothing to becoming some of the most powerful wizards you have ever known. What do you do? If the magic bread is freely given, no baker can make money. Even if magic bread is sold, a baker cannot compete. You can encourage people to buy true baked goods, but magic goods are cheaper. Too many people need cheap goods that are of better quality. You can ban the sale of magic goods. This becomes impossible to enforce. With magic travel, people can set up shop outside of city limits and bring customers to them.¡±


    ¡°I fail to see how stealing stuff addresses this problem,¡± Chekhov responded.


    ¡°One percent of the population can do at-will casting. Ten percent can do it with reagents. A little over half can cast magic if it is prepared by others. Those that do magic resent those that don¡¯t. Everybody always trying to get them to solve their problems. Those that can¡¯t resent those that do, because everything they do is a struggle, and there is no path for them to upward in life. Magic can make lots of things, but it can¡¯t really make land to live. I mean it can, but not in a distributable way. If a thief takes magic bread and only magic bread, the cost of the bread must increase to compensate. If a thief can take the magic used to make the bread, as I can, it actually puts the cost of magic bread relative to true baked bread. The stolen bread is then distributed to the poor, so they don¡¯t need to afford the more expensive bread.¡±


    "I''m not sure that''s how economics works," Alan said.


    Pierce shrugged. ¡°I could just be moralizing an immoral act, as Kimiko would say. I mean, it is thief guild propaganda.¡±


    "It seems like magic causes a lot of the same difficulties that automation and agents did when they first came on the scene," Jaye said. "There were protests and riots. Crime skyrocketed as people lost their jobs to machines. Eventually, we solved it with universal basic income and a greater appreciation of the arts. An agent can paint as good as Chekhov, even emulate her. But It could never be Chekhov." Chekhov smiled at this as she opened the door to enter the breakroom.


    "Actually," Alan said, "the technology to migrate consciousness from human to an agent is available. People just aren''t eager to be the first one."


    ¡°I¡¯m sure that would be a bit disconcerting,¡± Jaye said as she followed Chekhov through the door.


    "What''s even more disconcerting," Alan said as he held the door for Pierce, "is that the other way is also possible. You think you lost something when I changed the way you process visual information. Wait till you are calculating at the speed of a human."


    Kimiko and Rosenberg were already waiting for them in the room. Rosenberg was drinking a beverage. She pushed a chair next to him. Standing on the chair, she once again pushed herself into his personal space. She started sniffing at his drink. "What is this?" she asked.


    Rosenberg, discombobulated, moved away. ¡°It¡¯s called cola.¡± She attempted to put her finger in the liquid. He jerked it away quickly, spilling some on his chest. Pierce made an awkward attempt to wipe some of the soda off of him. While the spectacle she had created was going on, she swapped the badges. She tossed a glance at Kimiko and Jaye to see if they had noticed anything. Pierce understood that Jaye¡¯s compromised vision might have played a role in her success. Kimiko was preoccupied with the inner battle going on inside her head. She had improved at hiding this, even from Chekhov who was the most observant of Kimiko¡¯s behavior.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said and jumped off the chair.


    "Little sprite has no manners," Rosenberg said. Pierce wasn''t very fond of being called a sprite, a common dig at her stature. Taking insults from the mark was par for the course.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I come from a different world. There are many things here I am not used too.¡± This was pure rubbish. Alan, who knew her best, laughed at this.


    Pierce moved back to the table and took her traditional standing position in the seat. Rosenberg, still frustrated with his spilled drink, took his seat next to her. Everybody else followed suit. A loud rattle filled the room as Pierce dumped her dice on the table. Chekhov handed her a sheet of paper.


    Kimiko grabbed the piece of paper an inch away from Pierce¡¯s reaching hand. ¡°Two eighteens, and nothing below a twelve?¡± She remarked. ¡°How did you manage such rolls?¡± She handed the paper back to Pierce.


    ¡°I watched her roll them,¡± Chekhov said. ¡°Those are legitimate stats.¡±


    Pierce looked at the numbers that defined her bard. Eighteen was the absolute highest she could roll for character-creation. She managed to get it twice. Her character was extremely charismatic and dexterous, capable of manipulating people and objects with the greatest of ease. Her intelligence and wisdom weren''t too far behind. Her lowest stat, constitution, which was the basis of survivability, was a twelve. She never really considered cheating but doesn''t blame anyone for thinking she did.


    There was a rapid plink as she rolled her D20 across on the table. The tinkling sound increased until it stopped on an eighteen. Jaye reached out a picked up the dice. She spun it in her hand. "Alan, my visual acuity seems off. This dice is balanced, but it did not roll as predicted." She rolled the dice across the table back at Pierce. "Seven?" she said as the dice came to rest precisely at seven.


    Pierce grabbed the dice a peered at it closely. She twirled it in her hand. Nothing there but an ordinary twenty-sided dice. She waved her hand in front of her face, looking for signs of trails. No special aura. Jaye¡¯s response to her roll suggested more at play than kinetic physics. ¡°What are the chances you would be wrong?¡±


    ¡°Before the change one in twenty billion,¡± Jaye said.


    ¡°After the change, you shouldn¡¯t be any worse than Kimiko,¡± Alan said.


    Kimiko looked up from whatever thought had been consuming their attention. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Did you notice anything odd about Pierce¡¯s roll?¡± Jaye asked.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t paying attention, I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    Alan let out a deep breath. ¡°In theory, Kimiko¡¯s error rate is one in three hundred forty-thousand. A far cry from Jaye¡¯s accuracy, but pretty infinitesimal when it comes to the practicality of it. When she isn¡¯t distracted of course.¡±


    "Curious," Pierce said. "Pre-magic, I doubt that our world was much different than this one. The first observable difference was when some people appeared to succeed despite poor decision making. Enterprising people started testing this. People showing success with poor choices, and people showing failure with good ones. They were tested with games played around tables much like this one. There was definitely a discrepancy in what some called fortune or luck."


    Rosenberg was shaking his head at the absurd story. Even after the rose demonstration, he doubted that there was anything going on.


    Pierce continued, "As magic gained prominence, the effect of luck disappeared. There were several thoughts as to why. It was thought that luck was the result of proto-magic attempting to fulfill the will of the person. I want a high roll; I get a high roll. When magic started being more deliberate, then it ceased modifying luck. That''s one idea anyway. Critics say it lacks explanatory power for cursed luck."


    ¡°Cursed luck?¡± Alan asked.


    "There is magic and there is curse. If magic is stored long term is sours and turns to curse. If someone attempts to push magic beyond its limits, it cracks and becomes curse. If the caster is unusually angry or sad, you get curse. Differences are subtle, the effects are the same. There is the intentional curse which can be a combination of any of the other causes plus extra. Those are a real pain to de-curse, and some items get locked away in a vault and forgotten about because there are simply no other options." She thought back to the item she had lifted from the vault. The item that was still roaming around here somewhere, despite everyone''s best attempts to locate it.


    "Another idea is that luck became indistinguishable as most people had it. It didn''t matter if you were lucky, it mattered if you were luckier than the other guy. Again, it doesn''t account for cursed luck. And then there is the theory of high luck. It might become unlucky to be considered to have an unfair advantage via luck. A broken wheel may seem unlucky, but if you avoid a disaster as a result, then you are lucky. The problem with this is that one can still magically augment their luck. It behaves in every way proto-magic did."


    ¡°That¡¯s a bunch of rubbish,¡± Rosenberg said. ¡°Luck is nothing more than people seeing patterns in random chance.¡±


    ¡°That was the prevailing theory during pre-magic,¡± Pierce responded. ¡°If I had access to them, I would happily share the studies with you. Improbable clusters centered around individuals: A theory of luck. It showed extremely rare things consistently happening to certain people.


    ¡°Extremely rare is not zero,¡± Rosenberg responded.


    "There is a non-zero chance that you could phase through your chair, but I don''t think you would dismiss it so quickly," Jaye said.


    ¡°I mean, when it first started happening, it was a novelty and could be argued against. Then there was the era of luck. The effects were indisputable. Someone with full cursed luck couldn¡¯t be helped. You give them money; they would be robbed, they would lose it, and once the government who backed the currency went under. They couldn¡¯t die. A large portion of them attempted suicide, to no avail. Weapons would fail to discharge. People would tie weights to their legs and throw themselves into the ocean, only to have their legs eaten off by sea creatures where they floated back to the surface. When people attempted to starve themselves en masse, raiding armies of well-meaning folks force-fed their nearly unconscious bodies."


    ¡°Depression wasn¡¯t limited to those with bad luck. People with good luck felt helpless trying to help these people. There was also the idea that they didn¡¯t earn what they achieved. Eventually, binding fates became a thing. The first intentional magic. A person whose luck was good would tie their fate to one of curse. Something good happening to one, must require something good to the other. This usually resulted in the death of both parties, but to those suffering, this was a preferable alternative.¡±


    "If we assume that proto-magic or luck is here," Alan asked. "How do we test it?"


    ¡°We roll the dice,¡± Chekhov said. ¡°Compare it to Jaye¡¯s model.¡±


    ¡°What if there is a problem with my model?¡± Jaye asked.


    ¡°I will pay better attention,¡± Kimiko said. ¡°If we are in agreement, our models are sound.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not even sure if there is something there to test,¡± Pierce said. She continued examining the dice. Still not seeing any signs of mystical influence.


    ¡°Then we would be back where we started, no new information, no change,¡± Chekhov said. ¡°Everybody roll.¡± There was a distinct tumbling sound as 6 dice bounced on the table. Pierce noticed a spark reorient the dice as it left her hand.


    When all the dice came to a rest, Jaye asked, ¡°Did you catch that?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, Pierce¡¯s dice took a weird turn.¡±


    ¡°Come on!¡± Rosenberg said, ¡°she has shown she has exemplary motor control. She could be manipulating the dice!¡±


    ¡°I mean, sure, experts in prestidigitation can fool Jaye¡¯s sensors,¡± Alan said, ¡°and I have seen Pierce do some pretty impressive things.¡±


    Pierce picked up the dice on the table reading the impressive twenty sticking on the top. She knew magic intervened in that roll, but she wondered if she could pull off the feat otherwise. The idea that some of her talents came from magic putting the thumb on the scale was a little disconcerting. She tossed the dice again. This time she focused on preventing luck from interfering with the roll while imparting a specific spin on the dice. There was no jolt shifting the dice, but the spin did the trick. It landed on a respectable seventeen.


    ¡°I caught that one,¡± Kimiko said after a moment.


    ¡°Me too, but the way she made it move does lend credence to Rosenberg¡¯s theory.¡±


    Pierce moved her legs out from under her and thumped down into her seat with her arms crossed. She was somewhat disappointed that she was unable to fool them. She was equally disappointed that her attempt had been good enough that she had now cast doubt on the previous examples. Even more egregious, she doubted herself. She knew from years of experience that she could do things with her hands without thinking about them. The spark of energy could have been her imagination. ¡°We need to see if we can get the effect to act without my interaction. Doc? Would that suit you?¡±


    Rosenberg considered the question. ¡°If we can come up with a way where the dice cannot be influenced other than your ¡®luck.¡¯ I will concede that this phenomenon requires further investigation.¡±


    ¡°I assume you don¡¯t believe in magic, then you will admit I am not controlling it with my mind. I suspect people would notice if I attempted to blow on it.¡±


    ¡°Well pushing it with your mind is something we could consider a positive result,¡± Jaye said, ¡°and yes, you would have to be preternaturally covert to blow on the dice without our detection.¡±


    "Preternatural covert is one of my talents... Okay, Alan will roll for me. He is going to roll against Jaye. Kimiko, keep watching me for funny business. Alan, I am betting on you to win this roll-off."


    ¡°What¡¯s the bet?¡± Alan asked.


    ¡°Respect from Rosenberg,¡± Pierce responded. There was a laugh around the table.


    ¡°Interesting, how confident are you this will work?¡±


    ¡°Sixty, seventy percent.¡±


    ¡°If this is going to be convincing, I am going to require a harder contest,¡± Rosenberg said.


    ¡°Okay,¡± Alan said, ¡°No game mode.¡±


    They rolled the dice. There was distinct energy that flowed from Pierce to Alan and Jaye. The dice bounced and plopped on the table. Alan''s came to rest first. There was a frown on his face when it came up five. Jaye''s appeared to come to rest on the twenty, but tumbled one more time and landed on four.


    ¡°Do you think that is repeatable?¡± Alan asked.


    Jaye reached for the dice on the table. Her hand came in contact with Chekhov¡¯s drink and knocked it over.


    Pierce looked forebodingly at the spilled drink. "I don''t think we should."

 Chapter 7: The Heist

    Sophie stood alone in a hallway where she could hear people arguing. She walked over to the door and pressed her bunny ear into the wood. ¡°Your plan was terrible!¡± came a shrill male voice.


    ¡°All you needed to do was grab the thing!¡± came a gruff voice.


    ¡°If one person was with me, they could have kept watch. Why was Thorde entertaining the guards? They were off duty!¡±


    ¡°Hey! Don¡¯t bring me into this,¡± came a female voice assumed to be Thorde¡¯s. ¡°It wasn¡¯t my idea.¡±


    ¡°Guys, guys,¡± came another male voice. This one was gruffer but less stout. ¡°You can argue all day about what went wrong, we need to find out what to do now.¡±


    ¡°There has already been one attempt at the Jewel,¡± came the female voice, ¡°no doubt the King will have upped security.¡±


    Theft, these people were plotting theft. They were doing so in an unmuffled inn room where anybody could walk by and overhear them. Anybody like Sophie, entertainer and con-artist. This revelation was her queue to introduce herself and offer her services.


    She checked her pocket for her lock picks, but before she tried to use them, she turned the knob. Armatures, the lot of them. She walked in and locked the door behind her before anybody noticed. She started strumming a tune on her lyre causing magic to emanate from the instrument and impact the walls.


    Everybody turned to face her. ¡°Gwen, crush her face!¡± said a dwarf. A large half-orc started walking in her direction.


    Sophie held her hand up in front of her. ¡°Gwen,¡± she said, ¡°hold that thought.¡±


    Gwen squinted his face, pulled his arms to his sides, and squatted a little.


    ¡°Does he need to use the bathroom?¡± asked a scrappy bowman in the corner.


    ¡°I believe he is holding the thought,¡± said the woman who was probably Thorde.


    Sophie looked at his clenched mouth. She shook her head. ¡°You can smash me if you want, but I think you guys would be better served with my help. I mean, you were in here talking crime, and you didn¡¯t even lock the door. Do any of you know how to muffle the room? Probably not, cause none of you thought to do it. I mean you can purchase a scroll at any spell vendor!¡±


    The dwarf looked over at Thorde. She just shrugged at him. He turned back toward Sophie and shrugged himself. ¡°I don¡¯t really want to split the take three¡­six ways?¡±


    ¡°Consider it an audition,¡± Sophie said, ¡°I¡¯ve done too many solo jobs and I am looking for a team. You guys need someone who actually knows what they are doing. I think its winners all around. You will know me as... Sophie...¡±


    ¡°Cracken, that¡¯s Geist, over there, you met Gwen, and the priest, that¡¯s Thorde. Welcome aboard!¡± He held out his hand to shake it. Sophie looked at it confused for a moment before reaching out and grasping it.


    ¡°Let¡¯s do this! First, I need details. What are we stealing and why?¡±


    ¡°The ¡®why¡¯ is easy. Someone is paying us to,¡± said Geist.


    ¡°We are stealing the Jewel of Bravery. It is one of the many treasures obtained from the King during his trials,¡± said Thorde, ¡°the original owners want it back.¡±


    ¡°Trials?¡± Sophie summoned a magic scroll and was taking notes. She had written ¡°Jewel of Bravery. Owners? Stolen by the king?¡±


    ¡°The descendants of the monarch go out into the world to find treasures. Upon news of their return, a celebration is planned. The old treasure is given to them to distribute among the people, usually, those who had an instrumental part of their journey, the new treasure is locked away for the next monarch,¡± Cracken informed.


    ¡°These kinds of rituals are always dumb. Leader by bloodline is a poor way to choose a leader, and these challenges rarely test leadership ability,¡± said Sophie. She wrote, ¡°Locate the descendent.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah. We can disagree with the government all we want, but we are helpless to change it.¡± He continued, ¡°our little theft attempt has resulted in all the treasure being returned to the vault, and jeopardized the ceremony.¡±


    Sophie added, ¡°Possible coup by the old guard to prevent the new leader? Need to get the celebration back on.¡± to her notes. ¡°Can you tell me what your plan was? How did it go wrong?¡±


    ¡°Geist was sneaking around the museum where the object was on display. Thorde job was to draw as many people out of the museum including most of the guards as she could. When Geist got to the jewel, he was unable to lift the glass case that protected it and hold down the mechanism to trigger the alarms.¡±


    ¡°It was worse than that,¡± Geist said, ¡°I couldn¡¯t lift the case, so I had no choice but to push it over, shattering the glass. Several guards were on me. I kept hearing voices say, ¡®Run!¡¯ so I did, I neglected to grab the object on the way out.¡±


    ¡°And where were you?¡± Sophie asked Cracken.


    ¡°I was at the pub, prepping for a fight.¡±


    Sophie shook her head and wrote down what she didn¡¯t want to say aloud. ¡°Their plan put all the risk on a single person. A basic casing of the place would have told them they needed two on the inside. One person was drinking at the time of the crime. Amateurs? or something else?¡± She sighed. ¡°Well, I think I see where you went wrong. What is your plan this time around?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think we have much choice but to fight our way into the vault.¡±


    ¡°Good plan,¡± she said, ¡°but maybe we could try something that won¡¯t result in the death of at least one of us? And maybe has a chance at success?¡± She shook her head. ¡°You¡¯ve got two real fighters here, and taking on a couple of guards probably wouldn¡¯t be that much of a problem. But these are probably their best guards, and there are more than a couple. That doesn¡¯t include getting into the throne room, which, as I understand it, is the only access to the vault. Then you get to the vault door then... open it?¡±


    ¡°It needs some details,¡± Cracken said scratching the back of his head. ¡°I mean the item is in the vault. If you have a better plan, I am open.¡± Geist scoffed at this. Sophie emphasized with him. They put all the risk on his shoulders and blamed him when things went wrong. It wouldn¡¯t surprise her to know that Geist probably pointed out they needed a second person inside.


    ¡°I can roll dice on the floor her and randomly generate a better plan.¡± She pulled a small cube from her pocket and tossed it on the floor. When it came to a rest, she looked at it. ¡°Who doesn¡¯t enjoy a good parade.¡±


    ***


    Gwen leaned against the wall in a back alley. Cracken sat next to him on a rubbish bin. They were waiting for Thorde to flush some ¡®ducks¡¯ out of the tavern. Hopefully should could find some off-duty guards already looking to cause trouble. A little push in this alley and Cracken and Gwen would be ready to solve that trouble. The victim would hopefully be wealthy enough to have the ear of the king, to sing praises of the two mercenaries that saved them from his unruly royal guard. What Gwen was really looking for was a good fight.


    ¡°Unhand me, brute!¡± came a woman¡¯s voice from around the corner. ¡°I¡¯m not interested!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve been bad,¡± came a male voice, ¡°you need to be taken to the dungeon for punishment!¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± came a second voice, a little squeakier. ¡°You need to be punished.¡±


    ¡°You should be punished!¡± came the woman¡¯s voice again, followed by a loud ¡°Oof¡± from one of the men. She appeared from behind the corner and started darting for Gwen.


    ¡°Get behind me,¡± Gwen said.


    ¡°We will take care of the punishment around here,¡± Cracken said.


    Three men and one woman came around the corner. They bore the insignia of the king, indicating they were members of the guard. They stumbled slightly, indicated they had been merry in drink.


    ¡°What? You don¡¯t intervene. That woman is on the most wanted, she is!¡± said a short portly guard.


    ¡°King has a special interest in her, he does,¡± said a taller thinner guard. The two in the back chuckled at this.


    ¡°What is she guilty of?¡± asked Cracken.


    ¡°Don¡¯t know, was handed a likeness of her, told to bring her to the castle. Didn¡¯t say what condition.¡±


    There was a rage brewing underneath Gwen¡¯s skin. He tightened his grip on a large war hammer. ¡°I think it would be best if you guys turned around! But I wouldn¡¯t mind if you kept coming.¡± They kept coming.


    ¡°I¡¯d consider stopping,¡± Cracken said, ¡°once the dog¡¯s off the leash there is no telling who would get hurt.¡± Gwen didn¡¯t like being called a dog and only got angrier. Things were starting to turn red. He began focusing his rage on the four people. The man in the back halted and took a step back.


    ¡°Why are you backing off, Marty? This beast can¡¯t best you!¡±


    That was when the rage finally took over. There were flashes of bodies slamming into each other. There were screams for help. A cry for mercy. When the rage had passed, two of the guards were unconscious, the one that had last spoke and the woman. One of them appeared to take an arrow to the knee. Cracken was holding the third, beaten and bruised. They were sobbing apologies. Marty was still in the same exact spot. The expression on his face wanted to laugh and cry.


    A door opened and a familiar stranger walked out. They wore a coat that obscured their body, and a hood that hid most of their face. A disguise was in use, but the eyes were recognizable. Gwen couldn¡¯t quite place them. The stranger slipped a card into the resting guards¡¯ pockets. They then moved over to Marty and whispered something in his ear. He nodded and ran off.


    The stranger passed by Gwen gave him a brief wink then walked over to Cracken. Cracken let go of the guard they were holding and backed away. Whatever message the stranger gave this final troublemaker caused them to glance at the woman. He nodded. He had a bit of a limp as he walked away with his head hung low.


    The damsel, who looked as if she had actually gotten a few good hits in herself, bowed to the stranger. He leaned in close. She nodded several times. Her expression changed from interested seriousness to laughter. She walked over to Gwen and gave him a surprise hug. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said, ¡°Your name will go down in the book of good deeds and be remembered forever... What is it?¡±


    ¡°Gwen,¡± he said.


    Cracken¡¯s face was trying to hide burning jealousy behind it. He twisted a smile and walked up to the woman, ¡°Cracken!¡±


    She smiled at him, ¡°I will remember you too. I am...¡± She looked around the alleyway. The stranger was standing at the end looking back at them. ¡°I must be going.¡± She hurried toward the stranger who started handing her bits of a disguise as they ran off together.


    ¡°What do you think Sophie is doing with that woman?¡± Cracken asked.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°That was Sophie?¡± Gwen shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Do we trust her?¡±


    Cracken let out a big belly laugh. ¡°Ha! We¡¯ve known each other less than a minute longer than we known her. I trust you very little, and you should probably trust me less.¡±


    <h2>***</h2>


    Sophie took a deep breath as she prepared for her speech. She and Thorde had been starting generating discord in the populous lamenting the loss of the grand ceremony. Geist had been showing his face around town, only to make it disappear again creating chaos and fear. Cracken and Gwen had been doing random good deeds advertising themselves as mercenaries for hire. The King¡¯s men had started building a reputation as drunken thugs abusing their power. The king should be exceptionally receptive to what she has to say today.


    "Next!¡± boomed a loud voice from the court. A guard holding a spear gestured at Sophie to enter. She glided forward. Her blue dress flowed behind her. Light shined off the golden trim accenting her vest. Thorde, dressed in her white priest garb, did the same just behind her and to her right. Gwen and Cracken were at the back of the procession. Their freshly shined armor glimmered in the light.


    There were people standing on each side of them as they approached the throne. Sitting on top of it was a crowned man with a black mustache and goatee. Two guards holding spears stood on each side of him.


    They stopped a few feet short of the first step. Sophie knelt with her head held humble. Her congregation followed suit. She was still and silent waiting to be addressed. The King waited some time, but Sophie would not give him the satisfaction of showing restlessness. She could hear behind her that the boys were not holding up so well. They didn¡¯t matter; the King was testing her.


    ¡°State your name, state your business,¡± he said at last.


    ¡°I am Sophie DeVoe, master of ceremonies to the monarchs of Jenks, Jacksonville, and Port Town. I have served the Counsel of Imagi and arranged the unveiling of Emperor Knued¡¯s new clothes.¡± She stood up gracefully. ¡°I have come today with a warning and a proposal.¡± The King¡¯s face contorted with anger.


    ¡°Cleric!¡± said the King. ¡°Can you vouch for this bold woman¡¯s resume?¡±


    Without raising, Thorde responded, ¡°King Meer. I have eyes and ears near and far. I am a seeker of truth and speak to what I know. This woman is indeed who she says she is, and I humbly ask that you hear her out.¡±


    Sophie¡¯s posture remained uncompromised. Their eyes were locked. The court was silent as King Meer considered the bard. Just as he was shifting his gaze toward his guards, Sophie dropped her head to show respect.


    The crowd started getting restless, but Sophie stayed true to her pose. There was a murmur growing until it started filling the chamber. With a look from the king, the guards brandished their weapons and the crowd returned to silence.


    ¡°Sophie DeVoe, speak!¡± Meer said at last.


    ¡°It has come to my attention that you are considering canceling the transfer of power. I have heard from around the town that this would be the third such cancelation. The first was when the descendent was deemed to be a fraud. The second descendent was found dead, murdered. The crime was not solved, and now a third, a threat of thieves has frightened you to locking the Jewel of Bravery deep inside your vault.¡±


    ¡°Are you accusing me of something?


    ¡°No,¡± she said, slowly raising her head, ¡°but I can understand how you could interpret my statements as much. It is easy to misinterpret actions when you don¡¯t understand the motivations.¡± She was now making eye contact again. ¡°The town¡¯s people they don¡¯t know your motivations. They may be losing trust in their King.¡± She took a step forward. ¡°They speak of abuses of power coming from your guards. They say they are cowardly men who are drunk on the authority of the King.¡± She took another step. ¡°In the last week, the two mercenaries behind my protected your citizens from nearly two dozen of your men.¡± She took a third step. ¡°I fear the situation may become dangerous.¡± She reversed all three steps and knelt her head again. ¡°I seek only to protect you, Your Highness.¡±


    ¡°I shall deal with my guards, and when I am done, they will restore order!¡±


    She made eye contact again. ¡°There is a saying,¡± she said. ¡°A leader who rules by fear will fear those that they lead.¡± She bowed her head again. ¡°A leader who leads with respect will be respected in return.¡± She paused. ¡°I think the question is...¡± returning her gaze to his, ¡°what kind of leader are you?¡± Thorde, Gwen and Cracken knew this was their queue. They rose to attention and copied Sophie¡¯s glare.


    A dull roar of a thousand whispers came from the crowd. Meer directed his men to regain control. Silence was restored, but only for a second. ¡°What kind of king are you?¡± came a voice!


    ¡°We demand the ceremony go on!¡± came another voice, or perhaps the same one from a different location.


    ¡°The descendent has returned, they have proven to be wise, they have proven to be kind,¡± boomed from a different location.


    There were cheers from the crowd, and the guards could do nothing about it. They could start slaughtering everyone, Sophie pondered. This gambit could go south quickly, but a revolution would begin. She supposed her death would be remembered.


    ¡°SILENCE!¡± cried the King standing from his throne. He marched toward Sophie. ¡°You said you had a proposal, what is your proposal!¡± The anger in his voice was controlled.


    ¡°I do, Your Honor,¡± she said, bowing again. ¡°You hold the ceremony because you fear theft of your Jewel.¡± She leaned in real close. The guards all moved to intercept, but Meer waved them away. ¡°Have you heard of a honeypot?¡± she whispered. ¡°It¡¯s where you set a trap easy in, difficult out.¡± The king nodded. ¡°I say we set such a trap for our would-be thief.¡± Her volume returned to normal. ¡°We hold a parade. At the end of the parade, we transfer the Jewel to the descendent. These mercs, who have the trust of the people, and have proven themselves more capable than your guard will provide the security.¡± She leaned in again, ¡°you can have your power, or you can have your life, you cannot have both.¡±


    The king''s head dropped slightly as he considered this. He turned around and walked back toward his throne. He plopped back down. ¡°Your speech was critically effective. I do not fear my people. I will give them what they want. You have resources of the kingdom to make this happen.¡±


    Sophie let out a breath of air. Her choreography was complete. Her dance was executed with perfection.


    ***


    Hiding on the rooftops, Geist looked down on the gathered crowd eagerly awaiting the parade. He was impressed with Sophie¡¯s planning. Each of the local merchants submitted their own float. There would be bands and choirs from the local churches, schools, and taverns. The front of the parade would be led by the town¡¯s children, when they got closed to the end, they would break apart and take a spot to watch the rest of the parade. The King would then take up the lead, and of course, the float carrying Gwen, Cracken, Sophie and the jewel would be at the end. The route would take them around town, and take them back to the castle where it started.


    The town¡¯s folk would follow the parade back, some joining randomly. When they had all packed in at the castle, the descendent would be revealed, and the transfer of power would be completed. A new King would rule the land, and hopefully, tomorrow would be a new day. Geist knew the celebration would be short-lived, even without their thievery. The hope that comes with a power change never lasted long, as the new King was seldom different from the old one.


    Sophie had selected a few spots for Geist to set up shop but left the decision ultimately up to him. The weather played favorably to his choice, as there was a fog settled just below the rooftops. He had a good vantage point to see what was happening below, but it was much harder for people to see him. He was mostly obscured behind a chimney, but every little advantage counted.


    Geist started to ponder the group dynamics. What would become of them after this job? It was obvious that Cracken was not fond of Sophie, but she was so much better at planning than he was. She aimed the group but allowed them autonomy in the planning process. Cracken simply said, ¡°do this!¡± and got mad when anybody questioned. There would certainly be a shakeup when this was over.


    The parade was going on below. Geist was taken in by the library float. Powerful wizards were riding a float shaped like a book on clouds. There were three of them. One of them standing tall in the center waived to the crowd. One was concentrating on moving the float, and the last was making the clouds. The tall one would shake his staff and candy would shoot out to the crowd followed by cheers.


    ¡°Geist, if you are mobile, now is a good time,¡± came Sophie¡¯s disembodied voice. He was jarred alert and started running toward the parade¡¯s tail. Anybody looking might have been able to see him jump from rooftop to rooftop, but part of being in stealth is knowing where people aren¡¯t looking.


    As he approached the target, he saw the goblin float. They seemed to be prepping to set off some ceremonial explosives. Such a spectacle would be accompanied by a large amount of smoke, and where would that smoke be going? Straight back, obscuring the float of honor. Geist doubted this placement was accidental. How Sophie managed to slip that past the guards was beyond him.


    Getting the Jewel out of the vault was the main goal. The float was a moving vault in and of itself. The Jewel, a fist-sized diamond, sat atop a pedestal. There was a glass dome made of enchanted material that prevented breakage and could not been permeated by magic. The last thing they needed was a greedy parade goer with mage-hand to snag the prize. There were guards on either side, ready to run the item back to the vault, should a theft attempt be made. Riding on the float were Gwen and Cracken. Sophie was in the back playing her lyre and dancing with a bear. Geist looked curiously at the bear, wearing a blue gown. He was not aware Sophie had an animal companion.


    When he felt the float was close enough, Geist fired an arrow with a rope attached. While it was unwinding at his feet, he secured the other end around the railing of a balcony. He used his bow to slide down and into the cart once everything was in place. He landed with a thud between Cracken and Gwen. From the goblin car in front of them, several rockets flew into the air and popped. The attention of the crowd was divided as smoked billowed everywhere, covering the spectacle.


    Cracken swiftly moved to intercept him, while Sophie sought higher ground. She was singing an energizing song of heroes and bandits. It wasn¡¯t clear from her song whose side she was on. Geist rolled past Cracken with grace, only to be barreled in the back by Gwen. He lost his footing and fell into the podium, knocking it over and freeing the gem.


    He leaped back up to his feet and made another run at the Jewel. It got kicked around by the bear, who growled at him when he approached. He reeled back. One of the guards, Thorde in disguise, grabbed the gem from the float and began riding back toward the castle. Geist felt a thud in his head as Cracken hit him with his mace. The last thought he had before he fell was unconscious was, ¡°That was pretty hard for something that was just done for show.¡±


    ***


    ¡°Geist woke up hidden in some back alley with Sophie and Gwen,¡± Chekhov said. Jaye looked at the table. For the last hour, Pierce had been playing the game essentially under the table, passing messages back and forth between Chekhov. Rosenberg and Kimiko too had been communicating back and forth, occasionally looping in the DM for approval. She and Alan seemed to be the only one playing the game upfront. Subterfuge seemed to be the mode of the day for the rest of them.


    ¡°It had been several hours, there are no signs of Thorde or Cracken,¡± Chekhov continued. ¡°Sophie, you sense that your concerns were warranted.¡±


    Pierce turns to Alan, ¡°I think we¡¯ve been betrayed.¡± Jaye looked over at Kimiko who seemed amused at this turn of events.


    ¡°Should we move out?¡± Jaye asked as Gwen.


    ¡°I think we need to go back to the inn,¡± Pierce said.


    ¡°If Cracken and Thorde did betray us, the inn is compromised,¡± Alan said.


    ¡°I am certain it will be fine,¡± Pierce said. ¡°Have I given you two a reason not to trust me?¡±


    Chekhov looked at the players. ¡°Are the three of you going back to the inn?¡± Jaye nodded. Alan gave a thumbs up. Chekhov smiled and looked down at her notes. ¡°Cracken and Thorde had been riding for some time. Thorde are you still wearing the guard outfit?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Kimiko responded, ¡°I changed back into my cleric garb.¡±


    ¡°Good, good. You arrive at the entrance of a small shack.¡±


    ¡°Thorde tosses a bag of money at Cracken and says, ¡®Stay out here or leave. I don¡¯t care if I ever see you again, just don¡¯t come in here.¡¯ I then enter the shack.¡±


    ¡°I begin counting my spoils,¡± Rosenberg said.


    ¡°The domicile is filled with strange markings and black candles,¡± Chekhov said. Pierce¡¯s ears perked up at this. ¡°You reached the back. A robed figure emerges from the shadow. You can¡¯t make out any features except a scar over the right eye.¡±


    ¡°Is the figure me?¡± Kimiko said. ¡°You didn¡¯t model my antagonist after me, did you?¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± Chekhov said slyly. ¡°I do like it when you are a little bit antagonistic.¡± She smiled at Kimiko. Kimiko blushed in response.


    ¡°I present the Jewel to the figure. ¡®Please, please, take this token and release me!¡¯¡±


    ¡°¡¯You Fool!¡¯ bellows the shadow, ¡®this is a Fake! I shall keep you here, your friends will bring the item to me!¡¯ You realize you are immobilized. A cage drops from the ceiling. You are trapped. A beast forms out of the shadows and runs outside. Crack-¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t I get to roll?¡±


    ¡°DM¡¯s prerogative on this one.¡± Kimiko huffed in frustration. ¡°Cracken a beast appears out of the shack, what do you do?¡±


    ¡°I yell, ¡®Run, Get Help!¡¯¡± Kimiko interrupts


    ¡°I take a swing at the beast,¡± Rosenberg says.


    ¡°Your weapon goes right through it. The beast nips at you ripping an article of clothing.¡±


    ¡°I think you should run,¡± Alan said, ¡°Come back to us, we will rescue Thorde.¡±


    ¡°What if I don¡¯t want to be rescued,¡± Kimiko says.


    ¡°Well, then I guess you die in some little shack,¡± Alan joked.


    ¡°I mount my stead and start riding back to town,¡± Rosenberg says begrudgingly.


    Kimiko looks at all her notes and messages. ¡°So, wait? I didn¡¯t get the jewel?¡± Chekhov shakes her head. ¡°Where is it?¡±


    An accomplished smile appears on Pierce¡¯s face. ¡°No one ever touched the Jewel,¡± she says, ¡°It was in the vault the whole time. You got some transfigured trash. You can¡¯t see that with true sight.¡±


    ¡°How did you intend on getting the Jewel then?¡± Jaye asked.


    Chekhov took a stack of paper and straightened them against the table. ¡°The three of you arrive at the inn. The woman you rescued is there waiting for you. She is staring at the bear. ¡®This is awfully distasteful.¡¯ You recognize the dress she is wearing. It was the same blue gown wore by the bear on the float. She turns toward Gwen. ¡®Your name was written in the book of good deeds to be remembered forever. Your friend said I should give this to you.¡¯ She presents you with the Jewel.¡±


    Jaye looked over at Pierce. She still had that smile on her face. Kimiko looked as though an internal battle was going on inside her head. Alan would soon get Stitches up and running and maybe be able to put an end to that dilemma. ¡°I accept the Jewel, but what right do you have to it?¡±


    ¡°None at all,¡± Chekhov said, ¡°My father stole it in the first place. He then hired you to steal it as an excuse not to give up the throne. He knew that this would be the last ceremony, and he didn¡¯t want it to end. My two brothers and I, before we ventured out, committed to ceding the throne to the people.¡±


    ¡°Yay,¡± said Alan, ¡°We overthrew a government.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re going to end here,¡± Chekhov said.


    Pierce looked at Jaye with those studious eyes. Before they began playing, Pierce suggested achieving a goal together would bind them and begin the process of restoring order. Jaye rolled the dice. Twenty is what she expected. Twenty is what she had got. She looked at Kimiko and Rosenberg. They went against the party. If the luck hypothesis turned out to be true, wouldn¡¯t her bad luck just transfer to them?

 Chapter 8: Snitches get stitches

    Alan watched the machinery pump the slurry onto the printing surface. Nanotech would then take the mixture and transform it into the very specific form he had designated. It was fascinating, almost like magic. With slurry and nanotech, he could create anything he desired. Emtonium was the product of this process. Food of all nature was part of this process. The best part, slurry is 99.9% recyclable. Marvel of modern ingenuity.


    He had been combing over the book Jaye gave him. He found the construction of spells almost algorithmic. To create fire, one would need fuel, oxygen, and heat. A spell that turned water into an explosive gas, plus a spell designed to increase speed, could create fire. He built a learning program to study most spells. Many simple ones had two forms. There was a reagent version where one would procure frog¡¯s legs and eye of newt. There was also an incantation form, where it was built around images in your head. It appeared that there was a direct correlation between the two. They were a one to one language translation. The incantation was machine language, the bits that make a computer program work. The reagents were like a class library that contained many common functions to ease the programmer''s work.


    More difficult spells, requiring reagents like unicorn horn or dragon scale, did not have an incantation version. Alan suspected that they just hadn¡¯t found this yet or didn¡¯t feel comfortable putting it into this book. Given access to a few of the low-level stuff, it might be possible for his program to discern these mysteries. Things got interesting for him when he could touch the machinations that make things work, not unlike the slurry, which was now building some extra sensors that would go into Stitches next form.


    The basic assumption was that magic was real. Something that has yet to be fully verified. The luck demonstration was fairly convincing, but it was probably that Jaye was glitching after having hardware updater. The rose was more powerful. Jaye and Chekhov ran every test conceivable, but could not determine what happened. The water was the same before and after with the sole exception of the color. Alan wasn¡¯t a botanist, but he suspected the addition of the rose should have done something to the water.


    If magic were real, it may never be available in quantities that he could interact with. He wasn¡¯t going to cross the emtonium bridge to Pierce¡¯s realm anytime soon. Kimiko may get a chance to go with a small squad. Jaye might get to venture into that library they saw. Certainly, Dr. Rosenberg would insist that he get to go, once he was certain danger was at a minimum. Alan wouldn¡¯t get to go. He wasn¡¯t even invited to the inaugural opening, although it looked like his skill set might have been beneficial.


    Footsteps echoed down the hallway. Alan became alert, fantasies of becoming a wizard faded from his head. Dr. Rosenberg came around the corner. He paused briefly and then started walking toward Alan at a slower pace. ¡°Alan... I¡¯d like to apologize... I¡¯ve been a little curt lately. The stress of opening the bridge was too much, I think.¡±


    ¡°Things probably would have been smoother if I were there,¡± Alan responded. He didn¡¯t turn to face him but gazed firmly beyond the machinery in front of him.


    ¡°You know, essential personal.¡±


    ¡°Turns out I was essential.¡±


    Rosenberg opened his mouth to say something, then turned toward the machinery himself. ¡°Are you going to make another one?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s been approved and deemed necessary.¡± There was always something a little off-putting about how the doctor talked about agents. Subtle phrasing choices that reflected a view that he never says aloud. Alan turned toward the old man. ¡°Kimiko isn¡¯t doing well, she fights it. We have no medical personnel down here, and we are now cut off from the world. The drones do a decent job of treating physical injuries, and I can handle the cyber components. Neither of us do well where the two worlds overlap. If there is something wrong and she needs surgery, who will perform it? Do we trust a drone that is a sophisticated version of a web diagnosis program? Should I start cutting? I¡¯m great with a computer, but my hands get a little shaky when I have to make something physically. How long are we going to be quarantined? Kimiko isn¡¯t the only in need of a cyborg specialist. And at your age, a good real check-up might be a good idea.¡±


    ¡°I see your point. At least until you called me old.¡± He chuckled a little. ¡°I just fear... I just feel like we are losing control. Your little friend, she has a better grasp on things than I do.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t call her little, that is worse than me calling you old.¡± They both laughed. The laughter stopped abruptly followed by a silent pause. ¡°I am afraid Kimiko is under attack. She is fighting it and doing a good job of it. We have to help her.¡±


    ***


    Alan stared at the painted lines on the concrete floor as he walked down the corridor. Chekhov had once joked that he looked at the floor so much, he could find his way around just by looking at the cracks. He was looking for one that was about 1.4 meters long, with a tiny fork at the end. This crack marked the entrance to the cleanroom where he would be installing Stitches¡¯ new heart.


    He likes to think his role was important, but he felt like a glorified button pusher. He managed all the drones, but they mostly worked autonomously cleaning the facility. The soul chip he carried is in his pocket just needed to be placed where the machines could find it, they would do the rest. He would supervise the procedure in case something went wrong. The task ahead of him amounted to pushing the button that said: ¡°go.¡± He wouldn¡¯t even go in the cleanroom. He would watch through a two-decimeter thick pane of plexiglass.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Jaye was waiting for him inside the observation room. ¡°Hi, Alan, I wanted to see this.¡± Her face was the random noise she often put on when they were alone together. The image was dominated by yellow and pink.


    Alan flashed his smile at her. It was a lie-smile. He knew she knew it was a lie-smile, but he did it anyway. Jaye had told him she didn¡¯t like the lie-smile. She was the one who coined the term. Most people would rather you lie to them than tell them you are unhappy, and habits die hard. ¡°Prepare to be impressed!¡± Three different shades of blue brightened on her face before tampering down behind the pinks and yellows.


    He pulled the wrapped chip out of his pocket and placed it in the transfer compartment. When he closed the drawer, it vacuum sealed before beginning the decontamination process. He looked at the clean suit, complete with the requisite oxygen tank, and decided to break protocol and not wear it. ¡°You know,¡± he said, ¡°that was almost you.¡±


    Jaye stared at the compartment for a moment. ¡°No, it never could have been me. I am me, that would have been someone else.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± Alan nodded. ¡°It was a Gen Nine just like Iris. She managed to get special permission for me to develop work on a Gen Ten, using some of Iris¡¯s modifications.¡± He wasn¡¯t sure why he was telling her this. She knew her story. It wasn¡¯t a mystery to her. He pushed the buttons on the console and the machines whirred to life. He wondered if he even needed to be present.


    ¡°Does that make Stitches my brother?¡± Jaye asked.


    Alan pondered the question for a moment. ¡°Interesting perspective. I never really thought about it that way. Half-brother, maybe. Iris had a heavy hand in your development. All she did here was approve the action.¡± He thought about it further. He shook his head. ¡°In this case, I am little more than a mid-wife. Chekhov and Kimiko probably have the greatest claim to parentage, if they choose to claim it.¡±


    Industrial arms picked up the processer and unsealed the package with laser precision. Stitches'' chassis was laying deactivated on a table in the middle of the room. ¡°My chassis is fairly feminine. What would you have done if my chip didn¡¯t match my body?¡±


    Alan laughed at this for a moment. ¡°We would have changed your chassis. You don¡¯t remember, do you?¡± He paused briefly. ¡°I guess when you are developing primary pathways, your memory doesn¡¯t always write. We built you in a drone skeleton, we let you pick your body.¡±


    ¡°I wanted to be pretty.¡± Jayes face lit up. Despite whatever else he might think, Alan knew that Jaye genuinely enjoyed spending time with him. ¡°Do you think Stitches will be a boy or a girl?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, there is a chance they could be neither or both. I think I would leave it to Chekhov to make any changes to the chassis.¡±


    ¡°You are a good man, Alan,¡± Jaye said. It warmed him a little to hear it. They both observed as the chip was inserted into the body on the table. A scanner went in to check for abnormalities, while a micro-wielder queued up to make the final connections and seal up the machine. Alan felt the serotonin in his brain drain as his mood once again reversed course. People thought he was lazy. His work wasn¡¯t demanding. Push a button here, set a schedule there, and that was about it. He wasn¡¯t sure they were wrong.


    A klaxon interrupted Alan¡¯s train of thought. He looked at the console. ¡°Error: 0xF7¡± There was no description afterword. He pulled up a search in his glasses. Before he could fill it out, the laser cutter started moving. Jaye ran into the decontamination lock separating the observation room from the cleanroom.


    The cutter pointed at Alan through the window. A large red circle appeared as the laser diffracted through the material. The glass started liquifying at the impact point. It flowed down like lava. That was when the power went off on everything except the cutter. Alan¡¯s night-vision kicked in. He saw Jaye was trapped in the decontamination chamber. Once the cutter made it through, the gas on the other side would asphyxiate him.


    There was a moment when he considered that the end would be a relief. That was immediately replaced by the fear that this would be his last moments.


    ¡°Alan!¡± Jaye called, ¡°I can force the doors!¡±


    He returned to the moment. ¡°No! Don¡¯t do that. You would break sterility; you could kill Stitches.¡±


    ¡°The vapor from the melted glass would do that anyway,¡± Jaye called, but she remained in her place. ¡°You have one-minute twenty-two seconds before the breach starting now!¡±


    Alan started assessing his options. His smart-glasses were cut off from the outside world, as the room was on lockdown. He couldn¡¯t interact with any of the equipment as there was no power to the console. The laser had to have an alternative power source keeping it going. Jaye was looking back at him. Her face was all red now.


    He ran to the exit. A quick test revealed as he suspected. The room was completely locked down. He pushed a small spot on the wall. A small panel opened with a small click. Inside was the battery powering the backup door lock. He heard the bolt fall, seizing the door into place, as he unplugged the power source.


    It looked like a beverage can with a top designed to receive a power connection. He opened another panel next to the decontamination chamber. He wired the battery to the chamber, which immediately sprung back to life. The process finished, allowing Jaye to enter the chamber.


    It looked through the window. The laser was about halfway through now. Jaye was scanning everywhere in the chamber. He was sure she would destroy the laser if she had too, but that would damage the chip for sure.


    Alan started singing to himself. ¡°The footbone is connected to the ankle bone, the ankle bone is connected to the laser bone, the laser bone is connected to the power bone...¡± He stopped. Fortunately, his wearable communicator could still talk to Jaye. ¡°Jaye! Two meters from the corner, thirteen decimeters up.¡± Jaye ran to the location he directed. ¡°Six centimeters to the left!¡±


    Jaye found the panel and opened it. There was a computer and a battery installed. ¡°Unplug it!¡± A burst of sparks shot out of the battery as Jaye removed the plug. She fell back from the shock.


    ¡°I¡¯m okay,¡± Alan heard her say. He let out a sigh of relief.


    ¡°Check the chip for any signs of damage.¡± He opened up a virtual notepad and added a note. ¡°Add Backup Power to essential systems and lighting in all rooms.¡± He looked at the hazmat suit and thought to himself, ¡°guess I shouldn¡¯t have breached protocol.¡±