by Annie Percik
‘Don’t you “sweetheart” me! How dare you cut the budget for my department without discussing it with me first?’
Walter’s smile turned snakelike. ‘Do you really think I run routine financial decisions past every mid-level department head?’ He glanced at the open door behind her. ‘Not to mention allowing them direct access without an appointment.’
Alessandra felt her shoulders hunching and forced them down. ‘I am not trying to use our relationship to get undeserved privileges. And don’t claim you weren’t trying to manipulate me with that “sweetheart” remark.’
He regarded her, his expression tolerant. When he spoke it was with exaggerated patience. ‘As CFO, I have the right to make unilateral budgetary alterations in whatever way I see fit. And your budget had room for cuts.’
‘Oh really.’ Alessandra folded her arms across her chest. ‘And will that still be your argument when our security shields fail and one of our competitors gets hold of proprietary information?’
‘Darling, please.’ Walter sighed. ‘I did the calculations and you can easily maintain our security standards on the reduced amount. You know I can’t show favouritism when it comes to the business.’
‘I’m not asking you to.’ When had his attentions to her flipped from flattering to condescending? Or had he always been like this and she had just been too naive to realise it? ‘All I’m asking for is the respect I deserve as a colleague in this company. And the courtesy of a heads-up when you make changes that affect my ability to do my job.’
Walter rose smoothly to his feet, stepped out from behind his desk and put his arm around her.
‘What’s this really about, eh? Are you still upset that I cancelled on dinner last night?’
Alessandra threw off his arm and backed towards the door.
‘I’ve had enough of you treating me like a child.’ She took a deep breath and forged onwards. ‘This isn’t working, and I think it’s best if we end things before one of us gets hurt.’
Walter’s lip curled and revulsion shivered through Alessandra’s chest.
‘You think it’s best?’ he repeated. ‘You think you can come into my office and announce something like that? You wouldn’t even have a place at this company if it weren’t for your mother. Laleh’s so-called mentorship is nothing other than nepotism. Why else do you keep your relationship to her a secret from the rest of the company? And do you really think you would have made department head so soon without my influence?’
‘How dare you!’ Alessandra’s voice rose in pitch as his words hit a little too close to home. ‘I’ve worked hard for my position here and the results speak for themselves.’
‘You just keep telling yourself that,’ Walter said, sneering. ‘If you want to try going it alone, be my guest. Just wait and see. You’re nothing without me.’
Alessandra bit her lip to stop the vitriol rising in her throat from spilling out. Instead, she spun on her heel and stalked out without another word. Back in her own office several floors down, tears threatened. She refused to give in to them, though. She sat down at her desk and took a couple of deep breaths. Then she touched up her makeup, squared her shoulders and turned her focus to reducing overheads.
If the shields did fail, she would be the one blamed, not Walter with his corner office and commanding presence. He was untouchable and she was just a mid-level manager. How could she ever have thought he was charming? The fact he even knew who she was had dazzled her and duped her into thinking he valued her intelligence as well as her looks. Alessandra let out an exasperated breath. She would show Walter. And her mother. When her department was the highest performing in the whole of Gadg-E-Tech, everyone would have to take notice.
* * *
By the time Abelard got over his shock enough to make his way to the office, he was late again. But instead of going to his desk he stopped at reception and called Mateo’s station. His friend sounded stressed when he answered.
‘Abelard! Where are you? Stanton’s going crazy.’
‘Never mind that now. Meet me in the Returns Depot and bring a charged artefact with you.’
‘What?’ Mateo hissed. ‘What are you talking about? What’s going on?’
‘Just meet me.’ Abelard cut the call.
The Returns Depot was a large warehouse where broken or unwanted artefacts were stored for processing before being returned to their respective manufacturers or scrapped. The air between the vast rows of shelving units was chilly, but Abelard didn’t have to wait long. Mateo turned up in less than ten minutes, as Abelard had known he would. He was carrying an add-e-fact but he glowered as he approached.
‘What are you playing at? You’re going to get us both in trouble.’
Abelard couldn’t stop a grin from spreading across his face. ‘I promise you’ll think it’s worth it in about ninety seconds.’
He picked up a toy vehicle, marketed as a zoom-e-fact, and showed Mateo that the mana level was zero. When he reached out and touched the add-e-fact in Mateo’s hands, Abelard was flooded anew with wonder as the blue mana glow instantly enveloped his fingers. He waited a few seconds until the glow covered his entire hand, then moved it to touch the zoom-e-fact’s interface crystal. As it had with his clean-e-fact, the glow transferred from his hand to the little vehicle, which lit up with brightly flashing colours. He set it down on the floor and it zoomed off amongst the shelves, living up to its name admirably. Abelard let his breath out in a whoosh and turned to Mateo, who was staring at him open-mouthed.
‘Wha-?’ his friend managed.
‘That’s where I was about two hours ago.’
‘You … You just …’ Mateo swallowed audibly. ‘How?’
‘I have no earthly idea. I went out on a call last night and something really weird happened. And now – this.’ Abelard gestured in the direction of the zoom-e-fact.
Mateo walked over to a crate and collapsed on to it. He looked up at Abelard, a strange intensity suffusing his features.
‘Tell me everything.’
* * *
‘… and then this morning, I accidentally charged up my clean-e the same way I just did with the zoom-e,’ Abelard concluded.
There was a brief silence.
Then Mateo spoke. ‘You got her number? You lucky dog!’
Abelard huffed out a breath of laughter. ‘I know!’ He grinned. ‘That’s even more miraculous than the mana thing, but’ – he waggled his hands – ‘this is what I need some help with.’
‘I bet,’ Mateo said. ‘I mean, this whole thing is … well, it’s unbelievable. My cousin Gerald would love to hear about this. It would be right up his alley.’
‘Is he the one who lives without mana in the middle of nowhere?’
‘Yep!’ Mateo’s face lit up. ‘He’s my second cousin or something on my mum’s side and he runs a commune deep in a forest somewhere. He has this theory that the artisans are oppressing the common man through their control of the mana supply. So he doesn’t allow any artefacts on the grounds and they’re not connected to the supply at all.’
Abelard shuddered at the thought of living without access to mana. ‘Why do you think he’d be interested in this?’
Mateo grinned. ‘Just seems like something that would feed into his conspiracy theories. Artisans hiding the real nature of mana or something like that.’
‘I don’t think it would be a good idea to spread it about, whatever the explanation.’
‘Fair enough. So what are you going to do?’
Abelard sighed. ‘I don’t know. What can I do? Go and knock on an artisan’s door and say, “Excuse me, I seem to be manifesting artisan skills. Will you let me join your secret club”?’
‘Why not? It’s what you’ve always wanted. I bet ArtCo would be glad to have you.’
‘Why would you assume I’d join ArtCo? Why can’t I join Spark-le or Gadg-E-Tech?’
‘Nobody was ever fired for buying ArtCo,’ Mateo said. ‘There’s nothing wrong with ArtCo engineering
and you know it. Anyone should be proud to work for them. Glitz and glamour can’t make up for good solid reliability.’
ArtCo churned out cut-price everyday items for the family on a budget. Their artefacts were mass-produced, cheap and cheerful but had a good reputation for reliability. Everyone Abelard knew had at least a few ArtCo artefacts and they were by far the most commonly available.
Abelard held up a hand. ‘Let’s not start all that again. This is hardly the time. What we need to consider is–’
‘Abernathy! Vega! What the hell are you doing in here?’ Stanton’s angry voice came from the entrance to the depot area and Abelard looked round to see him striding towards them, his face stony.
Mateo scrambled to his feet.
‘Sorry, Derek. Abelard’s having a personal emergency and I was just … consoling him.’
‘I don’t care if his entire family was blown up in a freak mana explosion.’ Stanton glared at them. ‘What is it anyway?’
Abelard waited a beat then said, ‘My entire family was blown up in a freak mana explosion.’
Stanton gaped at him then scowled even harder. ‘Very funny. You’re both on the clock and I don’t pay you to goof off in the warehouse. Get back upstairs and start logging calls!’
Mateo saluted. ‘Yes sir, Derek, sir. On my way, sir.’
He set off in the direction of the main office. Abelard made to follow him but Stanton grabbed his arm.
‘As for you, that’s two strikes against you this week and now you’re corrupting other workers with your slacking. I suggest a severe attitude readjustment before I have to start disciplinary proceedings against you.’
Abelard hung his head. ‘Sorry Derek. It won’t happen again.’
Once he reached his desk, Abelard started answering calls, making sure to avoid any contact with the call-e-fact interface crystal but half expecting to set off a mana surge at every moment. He worked through his lunch hour again to make up for lost time and to show Stanton that he had turned over a new leaf. It was hard to concentrate on service calls though, with his newfound ability and thoughts of Jen running through his head.
He made it to the end of the day without anything weird happening. As the chron-e-fact clicked over to signal the end of their shift, Mateo jumped up from his chair and cried, ‘Let’s go!’
Abelard was startled. ‘Go where?’
‘Back to my place,’ Mateo said. ‘We’ve got some experimenting to do!’
* * *
In a stone temple a couple of miles away, Walter shivered in his expensive suit. It was always cold here, no matter the weather outside. He looked across the large table at his companion, Laleh Nazari, and was gratified to see her pulling her flimsy wrap more tightly around her shoulders. The cold never seemed to bother their host, though. Brother Theobold walked behind Laleh to the head of the table, dressed in his usual grey smock, sandals slapping against the flagstones as he passed. He waved a hand and one of the ornate wooden chairs slid out from the table. Walter winced at the screech of metal on stone from its bronze-capped feet.
‘Sorry,’ Theobold said. He peered at them both. ‘More heat?’
Another wave of his hand and a fire blazed up in the hearth on Laleh’s side of the room. She relaxed with a smile, the expression reminding Walter of Alessandra.
‘Well.’ Theobold folded his hands. ‘I suppose I should call this meeting to order. I don’t think anyone else is coming.’
Walter was already wishing he hadn’t bothered either. ‘What’s on the agenda?’
Theobold peered at him again. ‘Agenda? Oh yes. Do you have any update on the hunt for Gerald Simpson?’
Walter sighed. Was this really why he had left the office early to drag himself to this ridiculous building when he had so many other more important things to do?
‘No news, I’m afraid.’ He had given the same update since the task had been assigned to him. That had been five years ago when Laleh first recruited him to Brother Theobold’s little secret society. ‘There have been no sightings, no hints of untoward artisan activity and no suggestions of an imminent uprising. Gerald is still in hiding and I suspect that is where he’ll stay.’
‘There’s no need to be flippant,’ Laleh said. ‘Gerald still poses a potential threat to us.’
‘Really?’ Walter raised an eyebrow. ‘By your own admission there hasn’t been a peep out of him since you kicked him out nearly thirty years ago. He scuttled into a deep dark hole, never to be seen again. Without his spark, he has no power.’
Theobold steepled his fingers and regarded Walter solemnly over the top of them. ‘Ah, but knowledge is also power. And Gerald knows a great many things we would prefer he did not.’
Walter nodded. ‘I’ll keep all my monitoring activities in place. And if he should decide to show himself I’ll stamp him out for good, like the two of you should have done in the first place.’
He caught the glance that passed between Theobold and Laleh. But Walter was unconcerned. Their previous inaction against Gerald demonstrated their lack of follow-through. It epitomised the very nature and purpose of the Inner Circle, as they called it, so Walter knew they would never do anything to him. He just needed to bide his time, learn as much as he could and make his own plans.
* * *
An hour after leaving Mana-Calls, Abelard was standing on the roof of Mateo’s building as his friend spread a selection of newly charged artefacts around him. Early evening sunshine shone down on to the concrete, but there was a bite in the air.
‘So, show me what you can do,’ Mateo said.
Abelard laughed. ‘I have no idea what I can do!’
‘Exactly! That’s why we need to experiment. We’ve already established that you can transfer mana from one artefact to another and apparently also fly? Can you show me that, by the way?’
Abelard pointed to the ledge at the side of the roof. ‘You first.’
Mateo raised his hands in surrender. ‘Okay, maybe we should start with something easier. Can you transfer mana without touching the artefacts?’
‘Do you really think we should be messing around with this?’
‘How else are you going to find out the extent of your new powers? Where’s your sense of adventure?’
Abelard still wasn’t convinced of the wisdom of experimentation. But Mateo’s enthusiasm was contagious and Abelard had to admit he was intrigued. Rolling his shoulders, he adopted a dramatic pose, arms rigid and palms down, and focused on the artefacts at his feet. He tried to imagine the blue glow of mana flowing out of them and up into his fingers. He was aware of Mateo’s expectant face in his peripheral vision. His arms started to shake with the tension of holding the stance.
Nothing happened.
Feeling silly, he relaxed his hands. Why couldn’t this whole artisan powers business make some sense? He looked over at his friend with a shrug.
Mateo was undeterred.
‘Okay, so no to the remote transfer. Why don’t you charge yourself up with some mana and see what you can do with it?’
Abelard crouched down and put one hand on each of the two nearest artefacts. Their mana started to seep into his fingers and the now almost familiar tingling sensation spread with it. He allowed the glow to cover his hands and then broke contact. He didn’t want to be knocked unconscious again.
‘That is so awesome!’ Mateo said. ‘Try hovering. I want to see you hover!’
Abelard grinned, adrenaline kicking in as his sense of power grew. He closed his eyes and imagined his feet lifting from the ground. He didn’t feel anything happening but an excited yelp from Mateo made him open his eyes and chance a look down. The shock of finding himself floating a few inches off the ground broke his concentration and he dropped back to earth with a stagger. The blue glow around his hands disappeared.
Mateo came rushing over. ‘That was amazing! How do you feel?’
Abelard was breathing heavily. ‘About as if I’d run up several flights of stairs.’
‘Okay. I just want to try one more thing. Charge yourself up again.’
Seconds later, Abelard’s whole right arm was glowing.
‘Now,’ Mateo said, ‘try expelling the mana outwards in a stream like you’re throwing it. I want to see what happens.’
Abelard pulled his arm back and then thrust it forwards. At the same time, he pictured the mana firing out of his fingers. The visualisation worked all too well. He flew backwards as a stream of blue light shot from his hand and struck the wall of the stairwell with a crackling flash. Pain exploded in his hand as Abelard crashed into Mateo and they both ended up on the ground.
‘Wow!’ Mateo was looking at the scorch mark on the wall. ‘You could do some real damage with that!’
‘I think I did,’ Abelard muttered, looking at the blistered, scorched skin of his hand. ‘Ow!’
‘Shit, sorry. That looks a bit beyond my first aid kit,’ said Mateo, with a grimace.
He made up for it at the hospital, making up a story about a malfunctioning artefact and even getting the doctor to sign Abelard off work for the rest of the week. By the time they got to Abelard’s flat, Abelard was feeling nicely fuzzy from the painkillers.
