Zombies in Space chapter one: The Mission

Chapter 1

I sit on a crate of ammunition in the drop pod bay. The battleship around me shakes as it enters the atmosphere. Everything appears smoky, like the world is subdued and waiting for rain.

Alice cleans her gun with a nonchalant expression, though I can see the glint in her eyes. Action, to her, is a release. She’s never been scared before a drop.

I place my gun on the crate and wipe a tiny smudge off of its surface. Bord looks at me and makes a slight nod. Yep, I know. This is the planet that his family lives on—though they are on the other side from where we’re dropping.

That damn Zola virus took over this planet too fast for the first responders. We haven’t even dropped in yet and we’re the last line of defense.

The metal shell of the drop pod pings as little pieces of debris strike its outer exterior. My seat shakes.

The ship’s gravity compensates for a sudden slowing, and I lean to the side to match.

The five of us in this bay make up squad nine. Me, Alice, Bord, Tenma, and Richard. Richard is the specialist, and the rest of us are dorks.

Though I can handle a plasma grenade like a pro.

Richard stands in the center of the bay, holding onto a rail from above. “We’re going in this not to drop zooks,” he says, “But to get samples from the Core.” He looks at each of us in turn. “I know your buddies are fighting on the ground. We’re not with them. This mission is of utmost importance to the war effort.”

“Damn whitecoat,” says Tenma, under his breath.

Richard shoots Tenma an exasperated glare. “I’m not the one who selected the team,” he says. “If it were up to me you lot would be my last picks.”

Alice spits without saying anything.

Richard sighs. “Once we drop, it’s down Kikitani Main straight towards the Core.”

“A suicide mission,” says Bord. He makes no attempt to hide it.

Richard grimaces. “We’ll make it through,” he says. “I’ll keep you all alive.”

I test my combat suit. Sealed. Putting my helmet on, I turn on my heads up display and select the settings I’m used to.

“We’re dropping in sixty!” says Alice, standing up from her seat. She walks to her drop pod, embedded in the wall of the bay. The pod opens its doors and she steps in.

Before the doors close, she salutes, a slight maniacal grin on her face.

Well. She always did love combat.

Bord and Tenma step into their respective pods. I’m the last one in, just after Richard.

Richard is still a trained dropper, after all.

The tubes hiss, and my pod drops out of the bottom of the cruiser. We’re at the highest layer of atmosphere. Fifty thousand feet until we hit the ground. The familiar feeling of falling surrounds me as I tune my instruments to keep my pod on course.

“Looking good, Blake,” says my in-house AI.

“J.A.M.E.S,” I say.

“Great to be dropping with you again. I’ve noted that your vitals are a bit stressed compared to usual.”

“Well,” I say, “This is anything but usual. We have a damn whitecoat to baby. And this is no place for babying.”

“He’s a dropper too,” says James.

“I know,” I say. “He just doesn’t feel like it.”

My pod rumbles. A streak of fleshy appendages sear by my observation port.

“Looks like they’ve broken out the welcome!” I say.

“Type twelve interceptor beasts,” says James. “Not too much to deal with. Alarius is under level one infection, after all.”

“That’s what makes me nervous,” I say, as the clouds break and I catch a glimpse at the Economopoulos underneath. Everything down there is on fire. Lots of fire, and little tiny dots running around. Both zooks and civilians, plus the local planetary guard. “They’re not advanced enough.”

James is silent for a moment. Then he speaks. “Well, nothing in my database indicates you’re in for a particularly hard time.”

“And your database is always right,” I say.

James pauses. “I am not very good at detecting sarcasm,” he says.

I say nothing, only adjust my course to align with my squad members.

“Approaching ten thousand feet,” he says. “Five thousand. One thousand. Deploying stabilizers.”

A jerk strikes me. The whole world blurs for a moment. Then my pod strikes the ground, sending up a wave of asphalt and concrete.

I kick out the door using the open mechanism and leap onto the street, training my gun on my surroundings.

Nothing. Nobody. Only the distant sounds of conflict.

“Are we off course?” I ask James.

“We’re exactly where we should be according to my data,” says James.

The other pods arrive a second later in a blast of debris. I shield my face from the dust.

Richard is the first to emerge. He is holding a standard issue blazer-rifle, pointing at the ground.

I approach him. “Are you sure this is where we’re supposed to be?” I ask.

Richard tilts his head. “Of course. The data is never wrong.”

Alice steps out of her pod next. Covered in her battle suit, she looks like a black specter coming out of an egg.

Bord and Tenma also step out of their pods in unison. We all look at each other for a moment. Then Richard motions down the street.

“That way,” he says.

“Sure,” I say. He’s not a superior officer, but he is the leader of this squad at the moment. His science brain should know something that I don’t.

We walk through the deserted street, passing cars that are abandoned and blown out. A couple of papers flutter between the sides of the road. Nobody. Nothing.

A single zook stumbles out of an empty doorway. Its mouth has been blown off, and its jaw hangs by a thread of skin. Its body is covered in a dirty workman’s outfit, coated with blood. Its eyes lock onto us.

“Contact,” says Bord. We raise our weapons.

“No,” says Richard. He steps in front of us. “I need to get a sample first.”

“Sample?” says Alice. “We weren’t told we had to babysit a damn zook!”

“I just have to get close enough to extract some fluid. And it has to be alive.”

“Alive?” says Alice. “It’s dead already.”

“You know what I mean,” says Richard. He takes out a complicated-looking apparatus with a gigantic needle at one end.

Tenma whistles. “Where did you pull that out of?” he says.

“It’s spatially collapsible,” says Richard. He then walks towards the zook.

The zook stumbles towards Richard, oblivious to what Richard is holding.

“Hold him down for me!” says Richard, to me.

I shoot the zook once in each foot. It collapses to the ground.

“That works,” says Richard. He approaches the prone monster and injects it with the needle. Black fluid files through the neck of the device. Richard then pulls the needle out and ends the zook with a shot to the head with his rifle. He looks at the fluid and smiles.

“I’ll be analyzing this. Guard the perimeter for ten minutes.”

The rest of the squad look around, then at me. I shrug. “We’re not in any hurry, and there’s no immediate danger,” I say.

Alice sits down and puts her rifle between her legs. “Well, if you see an army of zooks bearing down on us, call me.” Then she blanks out her helmet. Probably playing a hacked time waster game. Alice has always had that core of steel that allows her to play video games in a combat zone. And Bord facilitates her by downloading them to her suit software in the first place.

I sigh, and turn to Richard. He’s playing with the analysis device he brought with him, and I can see the black fluid moving between clear tubes.

“Just as I thought,” says Richard, after a long while. “This is a level three infection fluid.”

“It looked like level one from orbit,” says Tenma. “Have you ever even seen a level three planet?”

Richard looks at me quizzically. “No. There have only been two on record to reach level three.”

“I’ve seen one,” says Alice, shutting down her game. “This doesn’t look it. There’s not even the smallest amount of Z-glaze.”

“Cities like this have undercities,” says Richard. “Have we even seen what’s going on down there?”

Alice turns away. “It’s not our job to fight down there. There are specialists for that.”

“Anyways,” says Richard, looking at all of us, “I have reason to believe that the hivemind in this city is hiding its grasp for some reason.”

“We’ll be going there anyways,” says Alice. “Let’s kick its ass and ask it what’s going on.”

“Pretty hard for the five of us,” says Tenma. “It takes an army to bring down even a level one hivemind. This one might be level three.”

Alice scoffs. “We can handle it.”

“You grossly overestimate your own ability,” says Richard. “We’re not going there directly. There are other places where I can get my sample.”

“Sample this, sample that,” says Alice. “If it weren’t for my orders I would be with the real fighters.”

Richard shakes his head. “I can’t tell you that. It’s classified. Just know that this mission is crucial to the war effort.”

Alice turns away. “Then let’s get to it. I signed up to bean zooks, so let’s go bean some zooks.”

Richard’s lips curl up into a slight smile. “I can accept that.”

Alice begins walking down the street. She turns around, facing us. “So, are we going to get there, or what?”

The other three and I look at each other, and then follow Alice down the street. We reach an intersection with several layers of street topped by a four-way pedestrian bridge. The whole affair reminds me of my home planet, which was also covered in city.

We go up a couple of stairs and survey our route. There are a number of signs of Z-glaze creeping out of the cracks in the ground caused by an explosion of some sort. About a dozen zooks wander around the open street.

The rest of the droppers in our ship landed about two miles to the east. We’re alone, and it’s eerily quiet. I don’t know where a city’s worth of zooks has gone.

“We’ll take 101^st street south until we reach the undercity terminal,” says Richard. “After that we’ll take an underpath to where we need to go.”

“You have suspicions that there’s a level three infection down there,” says Alice, “And you’re bringing us?”

Richard shakes his head. “It’s not confirmed. The data I picked up could be an anomaly.”

Alice grunts, tapping the side of her blazer rifle. “I’ve never been called a coward. Let’s do this.”

I exchange a look with Bord, and we both nod. Whatever the situation, we’re going to follow orders.

Richard leads us down 101^st street until we reach an undercity portal. The entrance looks like a gigantic subway station. Where there used to be guards and soldiers, there are now empty kiosks and sparking, broken electronics.

Richard holds up his hand. “Just a moment.” He takes out a suitcase and opens it. Inside is a drone, about the size of a cat. Richard places it on the floor and it zips into the undercity portal.

We wait for about five minutes before Richard nods. “Looks clear.” He pauses. “No, wait. I’ve lost contact.”

An ominous echo reverberates through the underground chambers beyond the entrance. I flip my rifle off of safety, aiming it towards the darkness. A shadow flickers against the wall. Red mist seeps out of the cracks in the walls.

A rumble shakes the concrete. Claws skitter with the weight of a truck.

A monster bursts out of the entrance. Perverse, covered in tentacles, with white sharp fangs hanging at odd angles, it lunges at Richard.

Avarice: The Realm Chapter one: Freax

Freax

I leap across the gap between apartment buildings, flying over the alleyway, my shadow swimming across the concrete. My quarry is two buildings ahead.

I hold up my hand and activate my Freax. A metallic bow materializes in my fist.

My quarry turns and flips backwards in the air, two shotguns pointed at me. Both fire at the same time.

I deflect one slug with my bow and duck under the second one. The ping of the bullet hitting the building’s roof sounds behind me. I slide behind an air conditioning unit.

So, he means to fight.

My quarry rips open a door to the building’s stairwell and dives in. The door slams behind him.

I take a minute to catch myself and use my Freax to conjure several arrows. One of them contains an autonomous drone, to which I have a video feed.

I fire the drone arrow across two alleyways and, once it lands and deploys the drone, I direct it into the stairwell.

All is clear. My quarry seems to be on the run, after his shots missed. A short fight!

I jump across two alleyways and rush into the stairwell. My drone is still in front of me.

I lose feed to the drone. On instinct, I press against the wall. A blast of hot air shoots past me, singing my nose.

I dematerialize my bow and materialize a trench spike. My quarry is close. I can smell it.

The sound of footsteps going down stairs echoes in the stairwell. I creep towards the source of the sound.

A door to a landing opens. A man steps out—a civilian.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he says. “You’re not authorized!”

I conjure a small memory taser and knock him out. His body slips to the floor, guided by my hands. He won’t remember me being here, and will wake up in half an hour.

The sound of my quarry’s footsteps has faded. I slow my pace even more and continue down the stairs.

There is a slight tug at my feet. A sudden blast pops off next to my head.

I catch a dart in between my fingers—a booby trap. My quarry has a similar Freax to what I have, so this is to be expected. I toss the spike to the side and continue down the stairs.

I cone out into an open stairwell. Three layers down, my quarry is still running. I conjure my bow, arm an arrow, and shoot him in the side of his neck.

My quarry slips and falls to the ground. The tranquilizer in the arrowhead takes effect.

Target captured.

I slide down the stairs and come to where the man is laying.

He is a tough-looking fellow, with several scars and many tattoos. I’m not sure what he was wanted for, but I’m not the person who should know. All I do is catch people.

Bagged, tagged, and taken down. Another successful mission.

Two days later, I stand in front of my operator, inside the government’s secret FREAX-C program headquarters. I’ve had my usual break and now it’s time for my next mission.

My operator, Jones, paces back and forth in front of me.

“We’re going to send you into a game,” he says.

I blink. “A game, sir?” I say. “You mean, like a computer game? A VR game?”

“Neither,” says Jones. “This is a much more deadly game. It’s called The Realm. A black-market Freax-users-only game that teleports players to a realm in another dimension where they play by rules similar to VRMMORPGs. Death there is permanent. You play with your real physical body.”

I shake my head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Why would the US government want to play around with a bunch of stupid Freax-addled adrenaline junkies?”

Jones tilts his head. “I was about to get to that,” he says. “There is a reward for completing the game. Collect one hundred ‘gold’ cards, and you will receive a certain reward.” He pauses, tapping his fingers on his shoulders. “We, the government, do very much care about the reward ourselves. However, we are more concerned with terrorists or other enemies of the state getting their hands on the reward.” He turns around, facing the wall. “There are thousands of people in this game,” he says. “And there are dozens of those types of people. The government already has a large stake in the game, but we’ve decided that we need a specialist to deal with those … Loose cannons, so to speak, who threaten our national security.”

“Tell me more about this game,” I say. “I played video games as a child, but it’s been a long time since I was current with all that technology.”

Jones chuckles. “Yeah, I expected that,” he says. “You’re stone-faced most of the time, after all. I wouldn’t expect you to be interested in entertainment of any kind.” He sighs. “But we really need your help. The game can only be accessed by Freax users, and you’re the best spec-ops agent capable of that who is available right now.”

“Do other governments have an interest in this game?” I ask.

Jones shrugs. “Of course. The rewards are great. Japan, South Africa, and most of NATO are allied with us inside the game. Russia and China aren’t exactly at war with us inside the game, but they aren’t helping us either. India, on the other hand, is actively trying to stymie our advances. And then, of course, there’s all the non-superpower nations who scrabble by as best they can.” Jones turns to face me. “We won’t bother providing you with a translator. There’s a Freax enchantment over the game world that automatically translates between players.” He shrugs. “Though I do know you can speak at least seven languages.” He taps his foot. “Your assignment begins the day after tomorrow. We’ll let you into where we keep the consoles.”

I salute, and step away from the briefing room. As I walk through the hallway, I nod politely at several of my coworkers. Even though we’re bounty hunters and assassins, we still get all the benefits of being an office worker. Health, dental, 401k. All the good stuff.

I get into my sports car and drive towards home. The center is located in Millvale, Virginia, a tiny town of less than ten thousand people that is actually quite close to an international airport.

My house is not exactly a mansion, but it is bigger than your average domicile. Standing at two stories tall, it is inhabited by me and my two dogs, Richard and Glive. When I open the door, both dogs pounce on my.

“Hey, boys,” I say, as I rub their ears. “Glad to be home.” I crack open a couple of cans of dog food and put it in their bowls. They seem to like it—I always buy the most expensive stuff. I feel like it’s my obligation to make sure that my money makes someone happy.

I head to my cultivation room. It’s a large room the size of a martial arts dojo, with mirrors on the walls and lots of swords, bows, and weapons hanging on racks. I sit in the room’s center, cross-legged, and begin to cultivate. Freax is a temperamental power source. It takes a lot of willpower and concentration to keep it in shape. And, of course, I always aim to improve. I spend the rest of the day cultivating, as well as the day after.

When I arrive at the center to report for my next mission, I find that Jones is standing at the entrance, leaning against a wall.

“Andrew,” he says. “You’re early.”

I nod as I swipe my ID card at the entrance. I walk past him.

Jones peels from the wall and follows me.

“I’ll be sending you with another agent,” says Jones, as he follows me. “You won’t be with her for all your missions inside The Realm, but she does know a lot more about the place than you do. She’ll be training you in how to use The Realm’s mechanics.”

“So The Realm has mechanics,” I say.

Jones nods. “Yeah. You can use things called “cards” to perform all sorts of cool feats. It’s really quite game-like. Though I’ve never seen the place myself, as only people with Freax can enter.”

I continue to walk. “I see,” I say.

Jones points me to one of the meeting rooms that always seems to be empty. “In there,” he says.

I enter. A rather brusque girl with copper red hair is sitting in an office chair at the meeting table’s head. She turns when she sees me.

“So this is the famous Andrew Dayne,” she says, her arms crossed.

I frown. “You don’t exactly sound like you like me.”

“I don’t not like you,” she says, “But your record is too spotless for me to think you’re a good person. Someone as dedicated as you is probably a stuck-up job-only type.”

“Um, sure,” I say. I turn to Jones. “Should I sit down?”

Jones nods, winks, and leaves the room. I sit.

The woman folds her hands in front of her. “The name’s Garnet,” she says. “I’m a veteran of The Realm. There’s a whole lot in there that I need to give you a crash course in.” She turns around in her chair. “We’ll do most of it in-game. But I’m here now to tell you that the place is a hell-hole. Lots of casualties on all sides. There are some organizations that would go to very excessive lengths to achieve a win.”

“So,” I say, “What, exactly, does a win entail?”

Garnet sighs. “We’ll start from there. To win the game, one must collect one hundred and one golden cards.”

“That’s it?” I say. “It’s a collect-athon?

Garnet chuckles. “I’m surprised you know the name. But no. Sort of. The game is more akin to a trading card game.”

I shake my head. “I never played anything like that as a kid.”

Garnet sighs. “Well, I’ll tell you the basics. Each card has something that it does or represents. Gold cards represent very powerful things and objects. You can turn any card into its object or effect, but once you do, it’s gone. Thus, collecting one hundred gold cards is difficult, as you’ll always be tempted to use them.” She turns back around in her seat.

“Our job isn’t to find the cards,” she says. “It’s to keep them out of the hands of terrorists, criminals, and enemies of the state.” She looks me straight in the eye. “And I heard that you’re pretty good at dealing with enemies of the state.”

I shrug. “I suppose. Someone has to do the job.”

Garnet winks. “Well then. Should we enter?” She stands up.

I nod, following her into the hall and to an elevator, which we take to the fifth basement layer. The doors open to show a large, cavernous room equipped with row after row of FunCons, a popular gaming system from two decades ago.

“So this is what they run on?” I say, as I approach one of the consoles.

Garnet chuckles. “Yes, indeed. The last compatible console is, as you can see, the FunCon.”

I touch one of the consoles. It is rather dusty and a bit warm. Four original controller ports are modified with docks that allow more controllers to be attached, for a total of sixteen input spaces.

Garnet walks to one corner of the room. “This is our console,” she says. “All the other spaces are being used by other agents.”

I approach the console Garnet is standing beside. She plugs in a controller and sits down.

“Just press start!” she says, “And activate your Freax!”

Her body disappears in a flash of light.

Well, that was unexpected. I pick up a lose controller and plug it in. When I press start, the whole world lights up and my body disappears.

The League of Displaced Magical Individuals Chapter One: Magic is Super

Magic is Super

Sunflower sprinted down the track, ahead of the crowd, just barely, keeping herself regulated. The teacher blew her whistle twice, meaning that the set was over. Amber, standing at the white line, clicked her stopwatch and smiled broadly. Sunflower slowed to a stop and returned to the point where Amber was standing, looking at the stopwatch over her shoulder.

Amber was a slender girl, brown hair, blue eyes, a real beauty whom most of the guys in the class had a crush on. Sunflower wasn’t quite as pretty as she was, in her opinion, and she always looked up to Amber as being the model of beauty.

Sunflower checked the stopwatch. 6.023 seconds. A new class record. Amber gave Sunflower a high-five, and Sunflower just barely remembered to keep her strength in check. For fun, she matched her own fingers to the fingers of Amber in the split second before her hand impacted. A perfect high-five. Amber pulled her hand back, rubbing it.

“Do you have to high-five that hard?” she said, smiling tenderly.

“Your turn,” said Sunflower, grabbing the stopwatch out of Amber’s hands.

When P.E. class was over, Amber walked to where Sunflower stood at the water fountain and poked her in the back. “See him?” she said, pointing to Drake Baxton.

“I do,” said Sunflower, glancing that way, then glancing back at her hands, embarrassed. They had made eye contact.

Amber squealed, quietly. “He made eye contact with me!”

“No, it was me,” said Sunflower, and then she covered her mouth with her hands. “I mean, it was you. It had to have been you.”

Amber punched Sunflower on the shoulder. “You know who it was.”

“Both of us,” said Sunflower, sagely nodding her head.

“Exactly,” said Amber. “We can totally share him.”

Sunflower laughed, and then stepped away from the drinking fountain. She sat through school for the rest of the day, and when the day was over, she walked over to the school gate, made sure that no one was watching, and took a turn away from her home, towards the inner city. She stepped into an alleyway, found a small water pipe that had long since outlived its purpose, and pulled a sword out of its depths. It was a long katana, expertly forged, ancient as the wind and agile as the breeze. She pulled it out of its sheath and the light shimmered on its surface, covering the walls in pieces of reflected brilliance. She swung it, once, cutting through the air with a metallic sound. Then she sheathed it and strapped it to her back. She pulled a superhero mask out of her pocket, putting it on. She had made it herself, and it covered just enough of her face to make her unrecognizable, just the eyes and the portion around the nose.  

She jumped and landed on the roof of the nearest building. Running, she sprinted across the rooftops, dodging TV antenna and satellite dishes, expanding her mind into the world around her, reading the thoughts of the people below. She found a distressed thought and jumped down, doing a summersault in the air, landing in an alleyway behind a parking lot next to the local supermarket. A woman was fighting a man, and it looked like the man was about to rape her. Sunflower flickered over to where the man was and tapped him on the neck once with the butt of her sword.

“Hey,” she said. “You should stop that.”

The man jumped back in surprise, and Sunflower stepped out of the way of his stumbling grab for her. She pinned him to the wall.

“What were you thinking of doing?” she said. She glanced at the woman who had been assaulted. “It’s okay, ma’am, I’ve got this.” She punched the man in the head just enough to knock him out, tied his hands up, and pushed him into a corner.

“Call the police,” said Sunflower, looking down at the man’s pants. They were unzipped. “Say Rose helped you.” She kicked at the man’s groin, once, and the man’s entire body reacted, toppling over to the side.

The woman nodded once, meekly. Sunflower smiled, winningly, making sure her mask was still on straight with a touch. Then she kicked against the ground, shooting up, hovering in the air for a moment, adjusting her momentum and landing on the roof of the nearest building. She stood up. One woman saved, one bad guy put away. She flew across the rooftops, scanning the surrounding area, helping the city out for the rest of the night.

The next day, at school, Drake approached her in the hall. She turned to him, her face flushing, and opened her mouth to speak. She closed it, thinking that perhaps he was making eye contact and a suggestive motion to someone behind her.

“Sunflower,” said Drake, stopping right in front of her. Sunflower stammered, searching for words. He was three inches taller than her, and she had to look up to meet his gaze. When she did, she almost swooned. He was close. So close.

“Y—yes?” said Sunflower. “Why do you need me?”

“Meet me after school behind the gym,” said Drake. “Right when the bell rings.” Then he smiled, and stepped away, waving. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

Sunflower sighed, putting her hand to her chest, and closed her eyes, savoring the moment. She was surprised when she heard the sound of a dropping backpack behind her. She looked.

There was Amber, standing, her mouth open, tears not in her eyes yet but threatening to come. She wiped at her nose. “He finally choses you, doesn’t he?” she said, her voice filled with pain and venom.

“I—I don’t know,” said Sunflower. “I don’t know what he wants to speak to me about.”

“Fine,” said Amber. “We always knew this would tear apart our friendship.”

“No, Amber, wait, I—“

Amber turned around and walked away, wiping at her eyes, and Sunflower stood there in the moment, unsure of what to do.

“That was …” said Sunflower, reaching out to Amber, but Amber was gone, holding her backpack in one hand, turning down the hall, disappearing.

Sunflower spent the rest of the day in a daze. She didn’t talk to Amber like she normally did, and for the first time since school had started, she ate alone. She didn’t like eating alone. Drake was sitting with his friends, laughing, and Amber was having fun with some of her other friends, a circle that Sunflower hadn’t gotten closed to since it was difficult for her to make friends.

Amber was the only person who would talk to her at the beginning of junior year, since Sunflower had just transferred in, in the middle of high school, having gone with her parents to a new job location. She had lost all of her old friends, and she had been hoping to gain new ones, but one thing had impeded her progress. Her powers. She had gained them through a story that was longer than she was comfortable telling, but which involved a vampire, the Grim Reaper, and a sacred bottle of Mexican coca-cola. It had been a feverish seven days in which so many things had happened that Sunflower had been changed forever. She did not like looking back on those memories. They scared her.

As Sunflower was walking to the trash to throw away the rest of her lunch, one of Amber’s friends reached out her leg to trip her. She stepped over it nimbly, having noticed the move even before it had been telegraphed in her body, simply through her natural state of awareness. She noticed the look of surprise on the girl’s face and read her mind.

Stupid geek, thought the girl, whose gaze Sunflower was meeting. Always the best at everything. Always on the top. She doesn’t deserve to have friends. Now she has Drake? On top of everything else? It’s just not fair. She’s got so many guys after her and this is how she handles it? If I was in her position …

Sunflower pulled away from the girl’s mind, and walked back to her lunch table, sitting down and folding her hands. Guys never talked to her. Not in person. Occasionally one of them would text her or talk to her over Facebook, but they never approached her at school. Sunflower thought that she was somehow putting them off, that she was ugly in person and no one wanted to talk to her. That was her current theory, though she had held multiple theories as to why no one liked to talk to her in the past.

Her mind whirled for the rest of the day, until school ended, and she headed to the back of the gym and waited for Drake to come. He came, walking around the corner, looking both ways as if he was searching for people who would be watching.

“There’s …” Sunflower said, hesitating. “There’s no one watching.”

Drake nodded once. Then he smiled, awkwardly. Sunflower braced herself.

Here it comes.

“Sunflower, have you ever heard of a superhero named Rose?”

Sunflower squinted her eyes shut and spoke as fast as she could. “Yes, I like—“ then she stopped. “What?” she said, opening her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

Drake seemed just as nervous as Sunflower did. He wiped his brow with his arm. “I’ve been hearing a lot about her, from my dad mostly, and I wanted to check to see if you knew anything. Your name is Sunflower, and the superhero’s name is Rose, and they’re both flowers, so I just wanted to see if you knew anything about her. You know, since your names are so similar.”

Sunflower couldn’t help but let her mouth drop open. So he wasn’t going to ask her out. He was asking about Rose. Rose? Rose was the name of the superhero who Sunflower became after school. Rose was someone entirely different from Sunflower. Sunflower knew this. She wanted to cry. She wanted to kick her feet up and pout. But she knew, as a young woman, that those reactions wouldn’t be the best. So, instead, she smiled, as best she could.

“My name is Sunflower, but that doesn’t have anything to do with this Rose you’re talking about.” Maybe I should have chosen a name further from my own …

Drake smiled awkwardly. “Because, I think, I’m in love with her,” he said. “I’ve seen her pictures in my dad’s files, and I think she’s the most beautiful girl in the world. I’m sure if she wasn’t wearing that mask she’d be even more beautiful.” Drake was red all over, from the tip of his ears to his cheeks.

Sunflower couldn’t help it. She fell in love with Drake even more in that moment, and knew that she was no closer to him than she was yesterday, because if he was in love with Rose and not Sunflower, then his statement about her being beautiful without the mask couldn’t be true. Otherwise he would be in love with Sunflower without her mask. She turned away, about ready to cry.

“Did I say something wrong?” said Drake, reaching over and touching Sunflower on the arm. He pulled back almost immediately. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to touch you.”

“I don’t know anything,” said Sunflower. “I know nothing.”

“There are other superheroes out there,” said Drake, hesitating. “I’ve read about them online. They hide their identities, but they’re there. I’ve been researching them, and my favorite one is Rose. Rose is the most awesome woman in the entire world. She’s super-powerful, and wields the most epic katana in the world. Firia, everyone calls it, though I don’t think she gives it a name. Some of the things she’s done, they’ve caught it on camera, and she can run at more than fifty miles per hour, and she can jump ten stories, and she can withstand bullets to the chest like she was wearing a bulletproof vest. She’s amazing.” He sighed. “And my father doesn’t know who she is.”

“Your dad is a detective, right?” said Sunflower. “Why is he searching for Rose?”

“Everyone is searching for Rose,” said Drake. “Everyone wants to know who she is.”

Sunflower hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should ask. Then she asked. “Can you tell me something about the other superheroes?” she said, unsteadily.

“Yeah, there are really cool superheroes, like Raygun, and Aquamarine, and then there are the stupid ones like Ignus and Loli.”

Sunflower nodded, going along with Drake’s quick speech and obvious excitement about the subject matter.

“Raygun has a special gun that shoots lasers, that’s why he’s called Raygun. He can shoot a quarter out of the air at a hundred meters. Aquamarine is just aquamarine. There’s nothing special about that except the fact that she’s special. I really like her. But Rose, Rose is the best of them all. She can do everything. She’s the most beautiful superhero in the world, and everyone agrees that she should take her mask off and show people who she is.”

Sunflower almost said it, almost told Drake that she was Rose, but then she pulled back at the last minute, unsure of how he would react when he learned that Rose was an unattractive woman who wasn’t beautiful at all, just appeared beautiful when she was wearing a mask, because Sunflower knew that most of that beauty was just because the mask left everything about her up to the imagination, or at the very least, her eyes and nose. That was the part of her that wasn’t beautiful, right? It had to be. So she hesitated, holding back the information that she wanted to give to him, and instead spoke about the first thing that came to mind.

“I like Rose too,” she said. “I’ve met her.”

Drake’s eyes went wide, and he pumped his fist in the air. “Yes! So you did know something about her!”

Sunflower turned her head away, aware that it would now be a lot harder to reveal who she was to Drake. She sensed someone watching them, in that moment. She smiled, gently, and turned away from Drake.

“I have to go now,” she said, reluctantly. “I really do.”

The presence that was watching them turned into Amber, and then a couple more presences appeared—Amber’s friends. Sunflower didn’t want to get involved in any trouble, and so she wanted to end the conversation short before something bad happened.

“Sorry,” said Sunflower, bowing slightly. “I have to go now.” She turned around and walked away from Drake.

“Let’s talk again sometime,” said Drake, calling out to Sunflower from behind.

Sunflower nodded once, and then turned around the corner of the gym, out of sight from everyone. Then, she burst into full sprint, leaping over the school gates, tears streaming down her eyes and her cheek, biting at the wind. This wasn’t supposed to be how it happened. It wasn’t supposed to be this confusing. Drake’s last statement had given her some hope for the future, but that hope seemed small, unimportant in the grand scheme of things. Drake wasn’t in love with her. Drake would never fall in love with her. He loved someone else, someone who was different than Sunflower, someone who Sunflower could never be without her mask. Sunflower had said that she knew Rose. What would that bring? How would that affect her relationship to Drake and Amber? Would Drake really continue to talk to her?

Those questions bounced around inside of Sunflower’s head for the entirety of her run home. When she arrived at her house, she stopped. There was a black van parked in front of her driveway, and Sunflower couldn’t see inside of it with her mental telepathy. She wondered who it was, vaguely sensing an aura of power and danger. Ignoring the feeling, Sunflower walked up to her door and unlocked it with her key. She stepped inside. There, in the living room, was a black-suited man with sunglasses. He looked like a bodybuilder, massive muscles, thick arms, thicker legs, chest bulging at the hem of his suit. He looked at Sunflower and smiled.

“Hello,” he said, just as Sunflower’s mother entered the dining room, carrying a tray of tea and cookies.

“Oh, hey, Sunflower,” said Sunflower’s mother. “Your debate club advisor is here to pick you up and take you to the competition tonight. Why didn’t you tell me you had a competition? It’s good, you can go, but next time make sure to tell me.”

“Debate club?” said Sunflower, suddenly remembering that she had told her mother that she was in the debate club to cover for the fact that she was usually gone after school. “Right, that,” said Sunflower, after her mother gave her a confused look. She sat down across the table from the black-suited man and looked around herself, awkwardly. “Is there something you wanted from me?” said Sunflower. Sunflower’s mother left the room.

The man extended his hand. In it, he held a business card, all black, with a single logo in its center that was shaped like a shield and had the letters DMI on its surface. Underneath the shield was a name.

Laster. That was it, just one name, no last name. Laster continued to hold the business card out as Sunflower stared at it. “Go on,” said Laster. “Take it.”

Sunflower took it. A light popped up in her hands, and a blue sphere materialized above her palm. The sphere darted around the room, trailing blue light, and then it circled Sunflower’s head five times before puffing away into nothing.

“That’s it,” said Laster. “It’s time to go.” He stood up. “Come with me.”

Sunflower stood up and followed Laster out the door and into the street. Laster got into the black van. Sunflower stood by its side, hesitating. Who was this man? Why was he taking her somewhere? Sunflower thought of all the possible things that could be happening, and then decided that, whatever happened, she would be able to break free. If this was a kidnapping attempt, then they had kidnapped the wrong girl. She stepped into the van. The door closed at her side, and Laster started the engine. They drove through the streets, Laster saying nothing, until they made it to a small tunnel in the middle of nowhere, passing underneath a railway. Laster gunned the engine and they flew through the tunnel and into a world of light, bright light, light that flickered around Sunflower’s body as she floated up in her seat, slamming back down after the light disappeared. They had traveled through some sort of portal, and when Sunflower looked outside, she could see a picture of the planet Earth as if it were being viewed through a spaceship’s window. Only, this spaceship was huge. They drove along a causeway in the center of a long hall, hundreds of other vehicles around them, and then they drove through a door and into the center of a metropolis. The planet Earth shrunk, just as they passed through the door, and Sunflower was aware that she was no longer anywhere near her home world. She was in space. They drove across roads populated with traffic until they came to a tall building near the center of the gigantic space station. Sunflower looked up. She could see hundreds of buildings on the ceiling, upside-down, and she could even see people walking with their heads closer to her than their feet.

“Where are we?” asked Sunflower, leaning forwards in her seat so that she could catch a glimpse of Laster, in the driver’s seat.

“We’re inside of Polis,” said Laster. “The city in the sky. The capital of the known multiverse. Try not to do anything too spectacular, but I’m sure that there are more spectacular people than you out there doing more spectacular things all the time. Just, don’t worry.”

Sunflower leaned back in her chair. Everything was happening too fast. Here she was, in the middle of a space station city, and just ten minutes ago she had been sitting in her own living room. She didn’t want to think about how far from home she was, and so she simply sat down in the car and waited to see what would happen next. They drove into a parking lot next to the tall building and parked. The curvature of the space station was making Sunflower feel giddy, but she pushed that feeling away as she stepped out of the car and onto the pavement. It was remarkably similar to an ordinary building in her home town of Yelldvis, except for the decidedly sci-fi aesthetic that the building possessed, all round curves and architect skyscraper bulges. Sunflower followed Laster into the building and through the ornately decorated main lobby. Everything was bright, bold, and put to a taste that was wholly different from what Sunflower was used to seeing back on planet Earth. The color blue was everywhere. Gold plating covered most of the light fixtures, and potted plants accented a waterfall that flowed through the center of the room.

Laster stepped into an elevator, and Sunflower followed. They stepped out into a hallway that was carpeted, homely, and looked about as rich and wealthy as the lobby that they had passed through.

“Welcome to the office of the DMI,” said Laster. “This is where we’re going to get you signed up with us.”

“Signed up?” said Sunflower, walking behind Laster. “I don’t understand. What’s going on?”

“We have several missions that need a new member,” said Laster, “Or, of you work alone, there are some minor jobs that a newbie like you might be able to handle by herself.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Sunflower. “What’s the DMI? How are we in space right now?”

Laster held up one hand. “That is a story for another time,” he said. He stopped in front of a door that was just like all the others, and opened it, stepping into an ordinary office space with cubicles spread out in its center and doors all along its walls.

“This is the headquarters of the DMI,” said Laster. “We’ll get you processed here, and we’ll make sure to tell you everything you need to know.”

Sunflower looked around at the people scurrying back and forth. She was brought to a desk in the center of the room, behind which sat an old woman with an aura of knowledge and wisdom. She smiled, holding out a piece of paper on a clipboard. “Fill out this ten-nintey-J,” she said, “And then we’ll talk about bounties.”

“Bounties?” said Sunflower.

“What,” said Laster. “You thought we weren’t going to pay you for the work you’ve done for your city? Everyone gets paid when they save the world.”

“But—“ said Sunflower, and then she looked down at her paperwork. After about half an hour, she had it all filled out, and then she handed it to the old woman, who filed it away at a complex holographic computer display system. Then she smiled.

“That’s about it,” she said. “You’re now in the system. It’s time for your briefing.”

Sunflower was already baffled enough about what was going on, but at the same time, she was curious to know what Laster had meant by saving the world, and what the old woman had meant by bounties. She had already taken everything else in stride. What now but to take the rest of the surprises as if they weren’t surprises at all? Sunflower had already been through enough stories as it was. What was another story to add to her collection of weird things that happened to her?

Laster took her out of the office and into the streets, where he stood next to her and lit a cigarette. He smoked it once, and then left it hanging next to his leg.

“I suppose you want to know who I am,” he said, flicking the ash off of his cigarette. “I can’t tell you that. All I can tell you is that you’re in the system now. The system knows you. No one knows why we have to put people like you in the system, but we do, and once you’re known by the system, strange things begin to happen to you. Your home world, Earth. It has an extremely low magical individual density compared to some of the places out there. It’s a place in dire need of people like you, people who can help the world, people who can bring about the kinds of change that need to be brought about in a backwater place like Planet Earth. In all honesty, the only reason why I even bothered recruiting you is because I’m from Earth as well. I was born and raised there. My hobby is picking up magical individuals from Planet Earth and giving them big missions. That’s just what I do. People think I’m crazy for worrying about such a low-key place, but hell, I don’t think I can handle not helping out my home world when I have all this power.” He took a drag from his cigarette. Then he let it fall again, flicking it twice. “I’m just a human being. A human who’s been thrust into something bigger than himself, something huge, something that could mean the end for Earth if nothing is done about it. I’ve been trying to tell people. They haven’t listened. Earth is a charity case to them, a backwater planet with a population small enough that it doesn’t even have any seats on the intergalactic senate. That’s how small the Earth is. It’s worthless. I’m the only one out there who’s watching out for the planet. No one else will do it.” He took another pull from his cigarette. “That’s where people like you come in. I have a proposition for you. Are you willing to spend some time up here, in the multiverse? Are you willing to help out your home planet with your powers? Because your powers are a lot more extensive than you know. You’re clear from your house and your school for the next week. To your mother, you’re going on a debate team trip. To your school, you’re still going to be there, and it’s just that people won’t notice you’re gone. And don’t worry. We have technology that will help you recover from the missed schoolwork.”

Sunflower thought for a long moment, wondering why this was happening to her, wondering what was going to happen if she accepted the offer and became a protector of Earth, whatever that meant. She had power. She just didn’t know what to do with it, was all.

“You said we’re getting paid,” said Sunflower.

“I did,” said Laster. “You’re going to be paid approximately one hundred thousand dollars for the week’s work. Don’t worry, the price is about right for the danger of the stuff you’ll be doing if you accept this mission.”

“I …” said Sunflower, thinking for another long moment. “I don’t know. I’m not sure what the right thing to do is.”

“You’ll be hopping dimensions, fighting wars, doing espionage and generally saving the ass of every human being who lives on Planet Earth. You’re the only one who even looks like they’ll take the job. Everyone else refused. I’ve been cycling through heroes on Planet Earth for the past two weeks, and every single one of them doesn’t even step into the car to follow me.”

“That’s because you’re driving in an unmarked black van,” said Sunflower. “You have to get that part of the job down right. No one trusts a man in a black suit with a black van.”

“It’s company policy,” said Laster. “We have to look professional. I can’t go against that rule.”

“So?” said Sunflower. “Why hasn’t anyone else taken up the offer?”

“They all gave one excuse or another,” said Laster. “Especially Aquamarine. She saw me once and then she kicked me in the face with her hydraulic pressure booster or whatever the hell it is that she uses.”

“I see,” said Sunflower. “So I’m the only one who responded to the call.”

“You’re Rose,” said Laster, “The person I thought least possible as the only one who would respond to my call. Every other hero has rejected the mantle. Only you have responded to the call to action that I’ve given you. It’s frustrating. I don’t want to believe that no one else wants to save Planet Earth from impending destruction.”

“What kind of destruction are we talking about?” said Sunflower.

“There is a war going on right now,” said Laster, “And Earth is about to become a battleground. Earth has one thing that both sides need in this conflict, and that’s water. Both sides need huge amounts of water to feed their war machines, and they’ve been sucking water worlds clean for the past three centuries, which is how long the war has been lasting. And finally, it comes close to where we are now. Where I used to live, the place I still call home. I have family down there. They think I work overseas, and I want to keep them ignorant. I think that’s about all you need to know, and the one thing that I’m going to tell you is this: be careful out there. You’re on your own for this one. I know you can do it. I’ll give you the tools and the security clearance, and you’re going to have to figure out a way to stop this war from claiming the Earth. No one else cares. No one else is working to stop the war from coming to Planet Earth. Only I know what’s going on, and no one else is listening to me.”

“How long do we have?” said Sunflower.

“About a month, your time,” said Laster. “I told you that you have a week free, but in a month’s time, about, the war will come to Earth.”

“So basically Earth is just getting caught in the crossfire of an interdimensional war,” said Sunflower. “Is that it? Is that going to be the end of it all? You’ve got to be kidding me. I sound like I’m in the middle of a B-list sci-fi movie.”

“You can choose to do something about it, or you can choose to ignore it. If you ignore it, I can’t be responsible for what happens to Earth.”

“I’ll take the job,” said Sunflower.

“And of course, we’ll pay you,” said Laster. “I have a plan.” He took a drag from his cigarette. “It’s just that, it’s going to take some serious brains to complete, and I don’t have any people with those kinds of skills that would listen to my call. You were my last try.”

“I can find someone,” said Sunflower. “I can help you gather people to fight against the war that’s coming.”

“I don’t know how to stop it,” said Laster, “But I’m pretty sure that if we show that the Earth has the ability to contribute to the Galactic Empire, they’ll give us their protection. There’s a mission that the Empire has put on maximum priority. A person that needs to be rescued from a level five lockdown sector. He’s an important Imperial diplomat, who was sucked into a hyperspatial wormhole and dumped in that sector, exactly where, no one knows. That’s why I told you a week. A week is all we have before his life support systems run out.”

“But you need someone smart to be able to find him, right?” Sunflower said, looking up at Laster.

“Right,” said Laster. “And I don’t know anyone that fits the bill. Not anyone I’ve tried to recruit, and I’ve tried to recruit dozens of people from the two cities where superheroes exist.

‘Two cities?” said Sunflower.

“There are two major ley lines that recently opened on Planet Earth,” said Laster. “Before this, there were no superheroes, no superpowers. Ley lines are what cause you to be able to run and jump like that, and that’s what gave you your super reflexes.”

“What can you tell me about, er, Aquamarine?”

“I’m sorry,” said Laster. “That’s classified information. It’s just company policy that I don’t hand out details to people like this. Because, in all honesty, this is completely under the table. If management were to catch me using the database like this …”

“But,” said Sunflower, “Isn’t your personal reputation worth the salvation of the entirety of Planet Earth?”

“I told you,” said Laster. “Aquamarine doesn’t want to be bothered. Neither do any of the other superheroes in Yelldvis.”

“Fine,” said Sunflower, stepping away from Laster. “If you’re not going to help me, I’ll find them on my own.” She turned around. “I’m going home.”

“Take the number eleven and get off at stop five,” said Laster, calling after Sunflower, as she walked away from Laster and towards the street. She stood in the middle of the sidewalk, looking both ways, until she found the bus stop. The bus pulled up next to the stop, hissing, a double-decker lighted in neon and chrome and looking exactly like she had expected a bus from the future to look. She checked to make sure it was the right one. The number eleven. Strangely enough, she could read everything on it. Eleven, the right bus.

If Laster couldn’t do anything about the war that was about to take over the Earth, than Sunflower would do something about it. She had a week. One week to save the world.

The Lesser One Arc 1: Last Chapter: Ghost

Ghost

I wake up to a doorbell ringing. When I stand up, I realize all my clothes from yesterday are still on, complete with bloodstains. I want to change, but I have to answer the door first. It’s probably nothing.

I open the door to reveal a man in a bright red bellboy’s shirt. He bows and hands me two envelopes.

“I have been sent from her majesty’s court,” he says. “Please respond as soon as possible.” He then bows again and turns around.

I close the door, holding two envelopes in my hands. Both of them are marked with a royal seal.

I open the first.

You have been cordially invited to a specially scheduled Garden Party to celebrate the taming of Portal U-375. Present this invitation at the door.

Below is an address that I recognize to be Buckingham Palace.

Well then. They said there would be a party.

The next envelope is also from the Queen. It requests an audience tomorrow at two. I can make that!

The party is tonight. Before then, I have to fulfill my contract with Esmex, though at this point it feels a little bit anticlimactic considering what I’ve been through recently.

I take a hot shower, change into some clothes I find folded next to my bed, and make sure to put on deodorant. I walk out of the room and take the elevator to the floor with my lab. Since this is the Esmex building, I don’t even have to leave it.

Two conjurers are already there. The rest arrive before the day officially starts, and I spend the rest of my working hours trying to teach these people how to make Rearden Metal.

I think they’re showing promise!

When I return to my apartment after the working day is over, I see a formal dress neatly folded on the table in the living room. I put it on and look at myself in the mirror. I look a lot better than I thought I would, though I’m still not satisfied with my hairstyle.

Oh well. I’ll get someone to fix it eventually. I head to the elevator.

Sebastian meets me in the entrance lobby. He bows. “Master,” he says.

I follow him into the limousine, and we drive through London until we reach Buckingham Palace. There are already a lot of fancy cars waiting to drop off their important people.

I am dropped off at the entrance to the palace. A pair of men dressed in red uniforms escort me to the garden inside the castle. There are already several dozen dignitaries and high-level adventurers milling about, drinking fine wine and eating hors d’ouevres.

I see Crayton, but I don’t see Alice. I approach Crayton and greet him politely.

“Ah, Markus,” says Crayton. “I assume you want to know how Alice is doing.”

I nod. It’s no use beating around the bush. “Is she okay?” I say.

Crayton shakes his head. “She took a huge blast of psionic energy. She should be medically fine, but she just won’t wake up.” He shakes his head, though I can tell he is very, very worried about her. Then he seems to brighten up a bit. “I hear your efforts with Rearden Metal are coming to fruition,” he says.

I nod. “Yeah,” I say. “I think at least some of the conjurers you hired are getting it.”

“Well, then keep at it,” says Crayton. He seems to want to avoid talking about anything but superficial things regarding Alice.

I don’t know what to talk about next. The party seems to be going well, and everyone looks happy, but I have a feeling that everything here is fake and plastic. But what could I expect? This is high English society at its finest.

A man wearing a tan suit approaches me. He extends his hand, a smile on his face.

“I’m Raputin Drommel,” he says.

I shake his hand.

Raputin nods. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Everyone is talking about what you did for the country. And you’re from America! I never knew those Yankees had it in them!”

“Well, we did win both World Wars,” I say, mostly intending it as a joke.

Raputin frowns for a split second and then is smiling at me again. “Ha! A fine sense of humor we have here.” He tilts his head. “So tell me. How did a young man, so clearly still in high school, attain the sought-after designation as an S-class adventurer?”

“I killed a balrog,” I say. “With a little help. A, uh, Dungeon Striker missile did most of the work, but I was the one who pointed it.”

Raputin gives me a false grin. “Very interesting! I’ll do my best to convince the government to invest in more of those! I heard they were very instrumental at the Battle of Crickhowell?”

I am about to shake my head, but then think better of it. I don’t want to reveal how small the effect of those super-expensive missiles was against an army of A-class monsters. I certainly don’t want to burst the military’s bubble and discourage more research into anti-dungeon monster technology.

I do my best to smile. “Yes, they certainly turned the tide.” I pause. “I recognize you. You were at the battle, right?”

“Just for a moment,” says Raputin. “I’m the guild leader of the Green Blazes. They evacuated me when it got too hectic.” He sighs. “I wish I could have seen those beautiful Dungeon Striker missiles in action.” He winks at me. “I helped design them, after all.”

“Just a little bit,” says another man, who approaches from the center of the garden. He extends his hand. “Icarus Oppenburg. Leader of the Rocking Shooters’ Guild.” He puts his arm around Raputin. “Don’t listen to this man’s bragging. He barely did anything for the Dungeon Striker program.”

Raputin seems to be taking the downsizing well. “Ha! And you didn’t do anything,” he says. “At least my guild fought better than yours at the battle!”

Icarus smirks. “Of course, my good sir,” he says. “But our guild had the oh-so-important job of evacuating citizens. How many peoples’ lives did you directly save by charging in there like a mad beast?”

Raputin winks. “More than you would imagine,” he says. “My guild is formed of only the best adventurers!” He looks at me with a strange expression. “Would you like to join the Green Blazes?”

I shake my head. “I’ve already made a deal with the Blue Dryads. Plus, I belong to another guild back home, the Riding Valkyries.”

“Pah,” says Raputin. “That corporate bunch leading the Blue Dryads has no soul. They’re like the McDonalds’ of adventuring guilds,” he says. “And I don’t know anything about American guilds, but I don’t recognize the Riding Valkyries.”

“You wouldn’t,” I say. “It’s a small guild.”

Raputin frowns. “You’re an S-class adventurer,” he says. “You should be with a big, famous, and well-led guild. Like mine!”

Icarus shakes his head. “No, your guild isn’t as famous as mine,” he says.

“When you read the last guild popularity poll,” Raputin says, “The Green Blazes top the Rocking Shooters!”

“That was a recent upset!” says Icarus. “The Rocking Shooters have been on top a lot more than you!’

I bow, and retreat from the oncoming storm, taking it upon myself to wander around the garden’s edges. The people at this party seem to be ignoring me for the most part. Perhaps I just don’t have the pedigree to deal with these kinds of people. I’m a commoner from America and I don’t understand how British high society works.

A man wearing a normal-looking suit approaches me. He stands next to me without saying anything, sipping champagne out of a glass.

“You have qualified,” he says, after a long pause. “You must choose a side. White or Black.”

I turn to ask him what he means, but he is gone, like a ghost.

And I am left wondering what will happen next.

TLO: Chapter 26: Passion

Passion

I am sitting, tied up, in a mafia van. Three Shinigami are watching me. I have nowhere to go from here. This is the end.

As I am rocking back and forth, I hear a screaming coming from far away. It is a familiar sound, one that I remember from just a day or two ago.

It’s Rarden.

The van jerks to the side. The three Shinigami stand up, but before they can do anything, three spearheads shoot out of the sides of the van and pin then to the walls.

The van’s back doors open. The sound of screaming reverberates through the air, and I am faced with Rarden, who steps up into the vehicle.

“I’m glad I made it,” he says.

“Why are you here?” I ask.

Rarden shakes his head. “I missed my flight. I had nothing else to do.” He has a mischievous expression on his face.

I step out of the van and onto the ground. “Where’s Sebastian?” I ask.

The other mafia van, the one that was holding Sebastian, is a burning ball of fire. Sebastian approaches me from the other side of the van I just exited.

“Master, I apologize for being so weak,” he says.

I shake my head. “No, I was the weak one,” I say. “Where’s Gena?”

“Right here,” says Gena, walking around the side of the van. “You will regret this,” she says. She holds a rifle up to me. Unlike the portal beings who serve me, I have no natural protection against modern weapons.

Rarden puts his hand on my shoulder. “Let me handle this,” he says.

The screaming starts up again in earnest. The sound is powerful enough to hurt my ears.

Gena fires off several shots at Rarden. The screaming spirits around Rarden’s body reflect the bullets, sending them pinging into the side of the van.

Rarden stabs Gena through the chest with a sword he pulls out of the spirits. Gena spits blood and collapses. The black bone sword drops from her belt.

A military helicopter is roving overhead, some distance away. I pick up the black bone sword and turn to Sebastian.

“Call that helicopter somehow!” I yell. “We need to get to the portal!”

Sebastian puts his hand to his ear. “I’ve got our agents in the military to give them a command,” he says.

A Shinigami charges at us from the other van. Sebastian turns around and puts the monster in a headlock.

“Your master is dead,” says Sebastian. “You have no reason to fight anymore.”

The Shinigami growls. “We made a contract.”

Sebastian tightens his grip. “You can serve a new master. Isn’t that how we work?”

The Shinigami goes limp. “Our loyalty is not that cheap.”

Sebastian taps the monster on the head. His eyes roll backwards and he slumps to the ground. “They’ll come around eventually,” says Sebastian. He lets go of the monster.

The military helicopter approaches from above, stirring up a violent wind. It lands next to the two burnt-out mafia vans.

A soldier leans out of the helicopter.

“Are you the one we’re picking up?” he says. “I just got the big wigs on the line. They say to bring you to the portal.”

I climb on board the helicopter. Rarden follows.

Sebastian bows. “I will take care of the remainders of Brine Ward,” he says, over the sound of the helicopter. He steps back from the bird.

The helicopter lifts off, and the ground falls away beneath me. We start flying straight towards the area where the portal opened up.

As we approach from the sky, I can see the hundreds of monsters spreading out through the countryside. It appears that most of the land surrounding Crickhowell is a national park. This is lucky, as the monsters haven’t yet invaded a heavily populated area.

We fly over a forest until we reach the location of the portal. I catch sight of the aircraft-carrier size mammoth in the distance, as well as the trail of broken trees it has left.

“Land us near the portal!” yells Rarden.

I grip the bone sword in my hands. It is cold, and heavy.

The helicopter lands in the park where the portal has opened. Monsters still spill out of its depths, but they form an open area for us to land.

I hold up the bone sword. It is sucked out of my hands by a violent gust. The portal swallows it, and then explodes into a shining rain of glitter.

Every single monster stops.

“They’ve stopped!” I hear a military man say, over the helicopter’s radio. “What the bloody hell happened?”

The whole world is silent.

Then, the portal monsters turn to me.

“Master,” says one of the alligator men who has just come from the portal. The monster bows to me.

“You were the one who returned the artifact,” says a baboon that is two meters tall. “You can give us a command. At your word, we will return to where we came.”

I nod. “Return.”

The two dozen monsters in the park bow to me. “As you wish. We shall watch the one who gifted us and protect them.”

It’s at this point that Gena would probably enslave the monsters to her will. However, I’m of the belief that I already have way too much power. Gaining the entire contents of an S-class portal as minions would just be too much. I don’t even have a temptation to keep any more than a token number of monsters for myself. All I want is to live happily and maybe win a competition or two.

“You may return,” I say. “Except for a couple of you. I’d love to make a few friends.”

The monsters bow again. “We shall return to where we came from,” says the alligator man. “Though we shall leave some of our strongest warriors with you in thanks for releasing us.”

The monsters around the park begin returning to the portal, which is a lot less powerful-looking then before.

“Are you sure you don’t want to be the master of an army of monsters?” says Rarden, as the monsters around us return to the portal.

I shake my head. “I already have a pretty powerful army on my side,” I say. “Also, I don’t know what I’d do with command over the contents of an S-class portal. I mean, what, would I want to conquer the world or something? That’s just stupid. I’m happy to play video games and eat chips while sitting at my desk. Maybe win a few conjuring contests.”

Rarden smiles. “That’s how I thought. But no one would believe me.” He claps me on the back. “You’ve done the world a great favor, kid,” he says.

I do my best to smile. “Yeah!” I sigh. “I still have to teach a bunch of conjurers to create Rearden Metal. That’s going to be hard.”

The alligator man has not left yet. He is still bowing.

“What?” I say, looking at him.

The alligator man looks up at me. “Your orders.”

I sigh. “Just, find a way to make the world a better place.”

“As you wish,” says the alligator man. The various monsters in the park disperse.

“I wonder who was controlling them before?” I say, wondering aloud. “If they’re so compliant after their, uh, artifact is returned, I wonder who was the one who commanded them to take over the world?”

“I wouldn’t be able to tell you,” says Rarden. He shrugs. “All I know is that the key to that portal has been passed from hand to hand for a long time.”

Not very many monsters are entering the portal. I assume this is because I told them to “make the world a better place.” Did they take that seriously?

Well, whatever. I turn to Rarden and the soldier in the helicopter. “Do you mind giving me a ride to London?” I say. I am tired. I haven’t slept in twenty-four hours. I need to head to the apartment Crayton prepared for me.

Crayton … Crayton … Alice! I turn to the portal so quick I crack my neck.

There she is. Alice. She’s laying on the ground at the edge of the portal. I walk over to her and kneel beside her. Her pulse is slow, but still there. She’s also breathing.

Her eyes flutter open. “Mom?” she says.

I shake my head. “Gena tricked you,” I say. “Your mother is still dead.”

Alice’s head falls limp. Her eyes close, and tears fall down her cheek. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause so much trouble. I just wanted my mom to come back.”

A helicopter flies overhead and lands in the park. Crayton and two men in black step out.

Crayton’s face lights up when he sees Alice. He runs to where I am holding her and picks her up. Giving her a huge hug, he then turns to me.

“You’ve done something for me that I’ll never be able to repay,” he says.

I shake my head. “I don’t need to be repaid. All I need is for everything to go back to normal.”

Crayton looks at me as if he’s seeing me for the first time. “Then we’ll do that. You can spend two more months here, teaching my conjurers about Rearden Metal.” He pauses. “But I’m not going to let you go that easy. I need to reward you somehow.”

I shrug. “I don’t know, let me date Alice?”

Crayton’s smile falters. Then he seems to break on the inside.

“Okay. I give you my permission to date my daughter. But you have to take care of her. Don’t lead her on, don’t hurt her.”

Alice is still unconscious in Crayton’s arms. She probably wouldn’t want to hear this, anyways.

“I guess this is it, huh?” I say.

Crayton lowers his head. “I’ve given up on my ambitions to join …”

“You can say it,” I say. “Silverbones, right?”

Crayton cringes. “Quiet!” he says. He looks around, seeming relieved. “Good thing no one heard that.” He looks more nervous than I’ve ever seen him.

“What about that … Organization is so special?” I ask.

Crayton shakes his head. “Don’t. You don’t want to know. The knowledge will consume you.” His eyes are looking far away. “I’ve decided that my daughter is more important than immortality.” He smiles at me. “Thank you.”

Rarden walks up and claps me on the shoulder. “Hey, man! You saved the day!”

I chuckle. “Yeah, I guess I did.” I sigh, looking at Crayton and Alice. “I guess now everything is going back to normal.” I survey the wreckage around the park, including dead bodies.

The bone sword must have been the same kind of thing Japan and Mongolia used to defeat their S-class portals.

I’m just glad that the UK is still a thing.

A government helicopter rotates overhead, looking for a place to land among the helicopters that are already here.

The helicopter lands. A figure steps out, one that I won’t ever forget.

The Queen of England! Holy beans, this is amazing!

The Queen approaches me with all the dignity I would expect of her. She is flanked by a dozen guards.

She stops in front of me. “Markus, right?” she says.

I nod. “Uh, yeah. That’s me.”

“England is forever in your debt. Not only did you tame an S-class portal, you also removed a thorn in the government’s side in the form of Brine Ward. I don’t know what we can do to thank you.”

I shake my head. “I don’t need anything, your majesty,” I say. “I’m happy to just go back to school.”

The queen smiles. “Very well. You are always welcome here, and we will be waiting for you to decide what we should reward you with, if you ever decide.” She turns around, and heads back to the helicopter.

That was quick. Well, I suppose the queen has a very busy schedule, especially with the wreckage caused by that portal.

I see that Rarden and Crayton are looking at me with the most incredulous faces I have ever seen. What, is meeting with the queen such a big deal?

“Bloody hell …” says Rarden. He looks at Crayton.

Crayton shakes his head.

One of the men in black remains. He bows to me. “We would much like to show you better hospitality than this, but our queen is very busy at the moment. You will receive formal invitation to both an audience and a celebration for your deeds. You will also be given the title of Psionic Knight and awarded with the Adventurer’s Cross.”

Okay, wow. That’s a lot to take in. I’ll probably be immersed in polite society again like before, but, well, I suppose I can handle that.

The queen boards the helicopter and the vehicle rises into the sky.

I turn to Rarden and Crayton. Both of them share a glance. Then Crayton does his best to grin at me.

“Well then,” says Crayton. “I suppose now we should just go home?” He points to the helicopter he arrived on. “I can give you a ride.”

I nod. “Okay,” I say.

I follow Crayton onto the helicopter. He is still holding Alice in both hands. Crayton turns to me. “Of course,” he says, “I can’t control my daughter’s love life.” He seems to be continuing from before.

Then the helicopter’s blades drown out all conversation.

We land on top of the Esmex corporation building an hour later. Crayton steps off, still carrying Alice. I follow him.

Crayton walks into the building. A man in black holds out his arm.

“Mr. Blanche has instructed me to lead you to your apartment,” he says.

I nod and follow this man into the building. We take an elevator to the twentieth floor and step out.

There is a small hallway with a single door at its end.

“This is your apartment,” says the man in black.

“You mean, this whole floor?” I ask.

“Yes,” the man in black says, looking a little confused. “Isn’t that what you’re used to?”

I shake my head. “I only got rich recently.”

The man in black nods knowingly. “Well then. Enjoy your stay.” He steps back into the elevator.

I open the door and walk into a gigantic living room with an entire wall of windows looking out over the London skyline. It’s a beautiful place. The furniture is modern, there is a full kitchen, and there are several pieces of art hanging that I assume are worth a whole bunch of money.

I sit down on the fancy couch and breath a sigh of relief. Before I know it, I am asleep.

My usual dream world is a lot more crowded than it was before. I almost groan, as I realize that a good portion of the monsters who I turned using the bone sword have entered my personal dimension somehow. How am I supposed to work with this? There are alligator men, monkeys, automatons, and who knows what other kinds of beasts. There are also the boss monsters, at least six of them, including the gigantic aircraft-carrier size mammoth.

Jirgrar appears before me and bows. “We tried to keep these outsiders away,” he says, “But we were unsuccessful. They insisted on serving you. As if you needed any more help.”

For once, I agree with Jirgrar. I don’t know how I’m going to handle having power over the entire contents of an S-class portal.

This was what Gena was after, anyways. What I’m wondering is why she didn’t open the portal herself.

I ask Jirgrar the question.

Jirgrar shakes his head. “Gena did not want to risk her life. Opening a dormant portal is very taxing, and could put your life in danger.”

“So Alice braved that,” I say.

Jirgrar bows. “I am sorry to inform you, but Alice is probably not going to recover from the stress of opening that portal.”

I feel a sinking in my stomach. “What happened?”

“Portals give off a huge pulse of psionic energy when they open. Anyone near will go into psionic shock. The D-class portals you’re used to will cause no more than a slight headache,” Jirgrar says. “But, an S-class portal is on a whole different scale.”

“So Alice may not recover,” I say.

“Even if she did,” says Jirgrar, “She may never be the same.”

I am devastated. I don’t know why, but I feel like I’ve lost something important. “So she’ll be disabled,” I say.

Jirgrar shakes his head. “I do not know, master,” he says.

I sigh. “Well, then we’ll just have to see what happens.”

Jirgrar nods. “Yes. One more question before I let you rest. What would you like us to do with all the new followers you have?”

“Just put them to good use making the world a better place,” I say.

Jirgrar bows. “As you wish,” he says.

And I fall into a much deeper sleep.

The Lesser One Chapter 18: Opposing Council

Opposing Council

Sebastian walks up to where I am sitting and offers me a glass of some sort of bubbly liquid in a fluted chalice.

“Um, I don’t think I can—” I say.

“It’s non-alcoholic,” says Sebastian. “Hold it like this,” he says, as he demonstrates how to hold the glass.

I take it from him and hold it in the correct way, and then I bring it up to my lips. It’s a fruity beverage that sparkles like soda.

“Thanks,” I say.

Sebastian bows. “Anything for you, master.”

Crayton walks up to my chair and sits beside me. He is holding a Champagne glass. It’s a part of his persona.

“How did you like my daughter?” he says. “She is very handsome. Many men are after her. Not just for her beauty, but for her dowry as well. She can sew, play the piano, and is a master flower arranger. Everything one would want in a wife.”

“Um,” I say. “Am I seriously being considered for … Being a suitor?”

“You are a hero and have enough financial backing to make a marriage work. You are also very valuable to my company.” Crayton’s voice turns darker. “But there are more things that are special about you.” He turns away, and sips from his glass. “It all depends on how the negotiations that are starting tomorrow pan out. I trust you realize what is riding on this deal?”

I nod. “Yes.”

Sebastian stands beside me, giving off a menacing aura that I am happy to have backing me up.

So, basically, if I make a sweet deal with Crayton, I’ll get to marry a beautiful woman?

Wait. There’s something wrong here. Something in me is sensing danger. It’s a “too good to be true” kind of situation.

“Sebastian,” I say. “Do you mind accompanying me to the restroom?”

Sebastian bows. “As you wish.” I can tell from his expression that he knows what I am up to.

I bow to Crayton. “Thank you for allowing me to dance with your daughter.” I then lead Sebastian across the ballroom and into the beautifully decorated bathroom. At the moment there is no one here.

“This is a trap, isn’t it?” I say, to Sebastian.

Sebastian appears satisfied. “You are much savvier than our previous estimation if you were able to deduce that.”

“What does Crayton want?” I ask.

“Your alloy,” says Sebastian. “As well as any other recipes that you create in the future.”

“That’s obvious,” I say. “Why is he using his daughter like a pawn?”

“I’m sure Alice is much more than a simple pawn,” says Sebastian. “If that were the case, he would have married her off a year ago when she came of age.”

“How old is she?”

“Seventeen,” says Sebastian.

“So, one year older than me,” I say. “Wait, I should stop thinking along those lines.” I scratch my head furiously. “Ah! I don’t know what to do in this situation!”

“Shall I offer you advice?” says Sebastian. “Go along with whatever Crayton proposes to you but stay away from any talk of marriage until you are in a better political position. My fellow devils are working on a large-scale project that could immensely change the leverage you have in this situation.”

“Okay,” I say. “About the negotiations tomorrow. Will you be there to assist me?”

Sebastian bows. “If you wish. Though I make no promises.”

“Okay,” I say. “I’m not going to be able to work this if I don’t have backup.”

“Your lawyer is plenty of backup, I believe,” says Sebastian.

I sigh. “Can you at least tell me what to expect?”

“Negotiations like this normally take place in board rooms. You will be before a panel of board members and various important people. Naturally, both sides will have lawyers. Your lawyer will do most of the speaking for you.”

“Great,” I say. “I think I’m better now. Let’s go out into the party again.”

We leave the bathroom after Sebastian makes sure that my suit isn’t dirty or messy. Sebastian follows me in silence. I spend the rest of the night “socializing” with rich, powerful men and women dressed in a stunning variety of expensive jewelry.

When I get back to my room, it is almost two in the morning. I collapse onto my bed and go to sleep in less than a minute.

I appear in the video game town of my dreams.

Jirgrar stands before me with his hands behind his back. A female devil is beside him.

“We shall now teach you etiquette,” says Jirgrar. “I assume you have realized its importance by now?”

I nod.

“Good. Then stand before Aahlia here and do as I tell you.”

Jirgrar then proceeds to explain British etiquette to me over the course of several hours. My head is choc-full of information by the time I am allowed to slip into a deeper sleep. I do not know how long I am unconscious for.

I awake to the feeling of Brandon shaking me.

“Hey!” he says. “The team is ready to leave. Are you going to be okay here alone?”

I get up, rubbing my bleary eyes. “Yes, I think so,” I say.

Brandon nods. He is carrying his suitcase, while mine is still spread out on the floor.

“Is there anything you need?” he says.

I shake my head.

“Great. I’ll be seeing you when your internship is over. Good luck.” He hesitates, and then he leaves the hotel room.

Silence floats above the twin beds. I lay back on my pillow and stare up at the ceiling.

God, Alice was beautiful. I can’t stop thinking about her. Her eyes float around in my mind, staring at me.

I am reminded that I have to inform my guild and Ixtham that I am staying in London. I pull out my phone and dial—it’s around ten in the morning, so both places should pick up.

I dial my guild first.

“Hello? You’ve reached the office of the Riding Valkyries.” It’s Mary.

“Hey, Mary, it’s Markus. I’ve got an internship at Esmex in London and I won’t be coming back for the summer.”

“All right,” says Mary. “I’ll inform Andrew.” She pauses for a moment. “Looks like your paperwork is already filed. Good luck out there.”

I hang up. That was easy. Of course, I have my “network” to thank.

Next, I dial Dr. Barrimore.

“Markus!” says Dr. Barrimore. “I heard you won part of the competition! When will you be back?”

“That’s the thing,” I say. “I’ll be staying in London for a while. I have an internship with Esmex London. I’ll be working as a conjurer.”

“Well that’s great!” says Dr. Barrimore. “I’ll inform the dean! Is there anything else you want to talk about?”

“How has your research been going?” I ask.

“As well as can be expected. The hype around you has been a lot smaller than I thought it would. It’s almost as if there’s some sort of government coverup. Do you know anything about this?”

“No,” I lie. Of course I know who it is.

“Well then. Is there anything else?” Asks Dr. Barrimore.

“That’s it,” I say.

“I’ll see you when you get back!” says Dr. Barrimore.

I hang up.

Staring at the ceiling again, I sigh. I reach into my pocket and pull out the piece of paper given to me by May. Apparently, it’s from the government. They want me to be at a certain address at three pm. Hopefully today’s negotiations will be over by then.

My phone gets a text. I check it; it is Lacy.

I’ll be at the hotel to pick you up in fifteen minutes. Please be ready.

I see a suit folded next to my bed.

It is not the same one I wore last night—it’s a tan blazer with a bright orange tie. The tie, conveniently, is clip-on. I manage to put everything together without needing help.

When I open the door, Sebastian is standing beside it. He bows to me butler style.

“I will not be able to accompany you for the negotiations,” he says. “We, your servants, have made some compromises to get you in a better position. Ms. Stevens will be able to guide you through this process without our help.”

I sigh. “All right. You said you could make no promises, so I’m ready for this.” I then walk down the hall, take the elevator to the first floor, and kill ten minutes in the lounge area.

When it seems like it is time, I walk out to the hotel’s receiving area. Just as I arrive a black sedan pulls up. Lacy steps out, wearing a black business suit and sunglasses. She lifts them, looking at me with an inscrutable expression.  

“You’re dressed for the occasion,” she says. “Good.”

I walk to the car’s front seat.

“Other side,” says Lacy.

Oh. This is England. I walk around the car and step in through the passenger side door.

Lacy enters the car. It is already running. We pull out of the hotel driveway and onto the street.

“I assume your butler has briefed you on what is going to happen today,” says Lacy.

“Not really,” I say.

Lacy sighs. “Well then. We have ten minutes before we get to the place where we are holding our negotiations.” She shifts into a different gear—the car is manual. “First. Don’t say anything stupid, or for that matter, anything at all unless you absolutely must. I’ve had clients lose huge deals because they couldn’t keep their traps shut. Second. Stay professional. Don’t pick your nose or do something else that a Londoner would consider uncouth.” She shifts again. “Third. I have studied your case in depth and know a lot more about your position than I did last night. I am being paid a lot for this, and I aim to make that cost worth it to you.” She taps the steering wheel. “I need to ask you some questions.” She seems to be waiting for me to respond.

“Okay,” I say. “Ask.”

“Do you have any other conjuration recipes that you have created that you think will be worth something?” Lacy pauses. “And, do you think you might be able to come up with more?”

I nod. “I think so. It wasn’t that hard to create Rearden Metal.”

“For you, then,” says Lacy. “I want to let you know now that you should not, under any circumstances, reveal that fact to Esmex or its CEO.” She frowns, appearing to think for a moment. “In fact, let’s tell a little white lie. We’re going to say that you spent two years developing the material along with professor … Barrimore? Was it?”

“I haven’t known Dr. Barrimore for two years,” I say.

“Well then make it so that you started working on the material the instant you met him.”

“No good,” I say. “I’ve only been able to conjure copper and steel for a couple of months.”

Lacy grimaces. “Fine. A couple of months it is, then. We’ll say that you had the input of many professors and spent hundreds of hours perfecting the material.”

I nod. “Okay,” I say. “I’ll put it that way.”

“Just out of curiosity,” says Lacy, “How long did it actually take you to develop the three versions of Rearden Metal?”

“Um, I just thought to myself ‘I want a strong metal made of steel and copper’ and sort of, put my mind to work. Then it came out.”

Lacy raises an eyebrow. “So you would be able to create something similar within minutes.”

“Yeah, probably,” I say.

Lacy’s face twitches. “Do not disclose this fact to anyone. Ever.”

“Okay, I get it,” I say.

“I am legally bound to work in your best interest,” says Lacy, “But most people are not. In fact, most people will try to manipulate you in order to gain something for you.”

I stare straight ahead at the road.

“I trust that you understand the depth of what you are getting into,” says Lacy.

“I think so,” I say.

We spend the rest of the drive in silence. After about ten minutes we pull into the parking lot of ten-story building without any distinguishing features. Lacy opens the door and gets out first. I step out after bracing myself.

Two men in black start towards us from the building’s entrance. They lead us into the entrance corridor.

“We’re sorry,” says one of the men in black, “But we’re going to have to search you for weapons.”

Isn’t that stupid? I could, if I wanted to, summon a plethora of weapons out of nowhere and these guards are checking me?

Lacy holds up her hands. The guards wave a metal detecting wand around her. She clears.

Then they wave the wand around me. I’m also clear.

The two men motion towards the hall. “Master Crayton is waiting.”

Lacy pushes past them. “We can find our own way.” She leads me to the elevator and selects the seventh floor.

“I might not have to tell you this since it is obvious, but don’t use your powers during the negotiation. Especially don’t conjure any sort of item that could be construed as a weapon.”

I understand completely. “Okay,” I say.

Lacy sighs. “I never know when it comes to Americans and their weapons.”

“I get it,” I say. “Gun culture and all that.”

The elevator doors open. A man in black leads us to a meeting room at the corner of the building, where two walls of windows look out over the street.

Five people are already in the room. Lacy pulls up a chair for me at the seat closest to the door, and then she sits down next to me. I recognize Crayton’s lawyer from the night before—a big, paunchy man with piggy eyes.

Crayton’s lawyer folds his hands. “The name’s Billard. You can call me Bill.”

“Lacy,” says Lacy.

Billard ogles Lacy without even trying to hide it. Lacy holds her arms in front of herself defensively. Billard clears his throat.

“We will now begin negotiations on my client’s behalf,” he says. He shuffles his papers. “If you would direct your attention to article three of our proposed contract …

And so begins a long, long day.