Spell Robbers

by Matthew J. Kirby

  BEN got down low and scooped heaps of egg into his mouth. Peter picked up a piece of bacon between two fingers and crunched. They each took a last swig of juice and followed Sasha from the dining room down the hallway to the Big Top. A portable podium now stood at one end of the room, while ranks of chairs covered the floor. Sasha led them up to one of the front rows. They took their seats and waited.

  Within minutes, the room had filled. Ben started counting, trying to figure out how many agents and junior agents and recruits there were, but gave up. He guessed a couple hundred, at least.

  The room filled with a thumping sound as Agent Spear tapped the microphone. “Please take your seats.” He waited a moment. Ben sat up straighter in his chair. “Thank you all for coming. It is a rare honor to have a visit from the director of our agency. He certainly doesn’t need any words of introduction from me, but I’d like to say a few, anyway. Like me, some of you can recall how it used to be. The League had fallen on hard times when Mr. Weathersky took up leadership. Corruption. Dwindling numbers. Poor recruiting methods. The gangs and crews and crime families were stronger than ever. But Mr. Weathersky pushed back the tide. He cleaned up the agency. He strengthened us and made us into what we are today, a League I am proud to belong to. Please join me in extending a very grateful welcome to Mr. Weathersky.”

  The room applauded, and Ben joined in as a man stepped up to the podium. He was tall and broad, like he might have just walked out of a comic book. Ben couldn’t tell how old he was, but his white hair was peppered coal black, and deep wrinkles sprouted around his eyes. He wore a pale gray suit, and with the simple act of gripping the podium, he drew the attention of the whole room.

  “Agents and recruits, ladies and gentlemen, I thank you for that welcome. I wanted to speak with you today to commend you for all the work you do. Agent Spear gave me far too much credit for what this agency has become.” He nodded over the crowd. “It is not me but you, the soldiers on the front line, who have pushed back the tide. I am honored and humbled to league with you.”

  As he watched and listened to Mr. Weathersky, Ben knew what Peter had meant when he’d said you could sense an Actuator. Power emanated from the man at the podium. Sasha said he was one of the few who could actuate Class Threes, and Ben believed it.

  Mr. Weathersky paused. “I wish I could say our job is done. But recent events, which I’m sure you’ve heard about, are all the evidence we need to know that crime and evil still exist, as dangerous as ever. There are still men and women who would use actuation for their own gain at the expense and pain of others.”

  He leaned forward over the podium, and Ben leaned backward from the force coming off him.

  “But we are here.” Mr. Weathersky stabbed the pulpit with a finger. “Stronger than ever. We stand against the evil in this world. We will hold them back with the wall of our Quantum League. Will you continue to stand with me?”

  A collective shout of “Yes, sir!” erupted in patches around the room. Ben wanted to add his voice.

  Mr. Weathersky smiled. He shouted, “Will you stand with me?”

  “YES, SIR!” Ben cried, along with a room-wide chorus.

  “Thank you for your service, ladies and gentlemen.” Mr. Weathersky stepped away from the podium, and the room rose to its feet in applause.

  Ben joined in. He couldn’t help it. But then he realized what he was doing. He started thinking that maybe he shouldn’t be so enthusiastic about a man who had reformed the League’s recruiting methods. What if detachment had been Mr. Weathersky’s doing?

  He looked over at Peter. His friend was clapping hard, smiling big, unaware of Ben or anyone else. It seemed he’d bought into this Weathersky guy completely. So had Sasha. By the looks of it, so had everyone else in that room. Ben looked back at the director, who now stood a few feet back, waving and nodding. Ben wondered if there was some kind of actuation that turned people into mindless sheep.

  The applause eventually subsided, and the audience rose and began dispersing. Sasha turned to Ben and Peter.

  “Ready, boys?”

  “Hang on, there.” Agent Spear walked over to them. “The director would like a few moments with them.”

  “He would?” Peter said.

  “Why?” Ben asked.

  “We have intel on Dr. Hughes and the portable augmenter.”

  Ben jumped to his feet. “Where is she? Is she okay?”

  “She’s alive and unharmed, as far as we know,” he said. “Come, we’ll fill you in. And Mr. Weathersky has a few questions for you.”

  Ben looked at Peter. Peter looked at Sasha.

  “Go,” she said.

  So they left the main training room and followed Agent Spear to the old church’s former library. They found Mr. Weathersky already seated at a table, Agent Taggart next to him.

  “Ah, Ben. Peter.” Mr. Weathersky waved them over. “Come in, come in.”

  Agent Spear led them to the table, took the chair on the other side of the director, and motioned for Ben and Peter to sit across from them.

  “I understand you two are our newest recruits?” Mr. Weathersky said.

  “Yes, sir,” Peter said. He kept his head bowed at an angle. So did Agent Taggart and Agent Spear. Did this man cast a spell over everyone?

  “Well,” Mr. Weathersky said. “I must take a moment to recognize and honor you. Detachment is not an easy thing. That policy direction was not taken lightly, I assure you. But the road to justice requires sacrifices from all of us, and it is likely that detachment is only the first of many you will be called upon to make to do what is right.”

  That sounded good. But it still felt all wrong.

  Mr. Weathersky turned to Agent Taggart. “I understand these two are quite advanced for their age.”

  Agent Taggart smiled. “They are, sir.”

  “Excellent.” He turned back to them. “How are you both settling in?”

  Ben swallowed. Should he tell the truth?

  But Peter spoke for both of them. “We’re doing great, sir.”

  “Just wait.” Mr. Weathersky leaned back in his chair, his hands before him, fingertips to fingertips. “As you deepen your understanding of the quantum realm, you press your ear to creation’s door. The universe, as Sir James Jeans put it, will begin to look more like a great thought than a great machine.”

  The room went quiet after that.

  Ben cleared his throat. “Agent Spear, you mentioned intel on Dr. Hughes?”

  “Yes.” He blinked. “Our sources have confirmed that the Dread Cloaks have taken her to one of their headquarters, along with the augmenter gun. Not only that, but there’s some kind of rift between factions taking place within the gang.”

  “She’s alive?” Mr. Weathersky asked.

  “Yes.” Agent Taggart spoke up. “Apparently, Poole believes the augmenter is not yet fully functional. He has kept her alive to make it so.”

  “I was told that it worked,” Mr. Weathersky said.

  “Ben assured us it was functional,” Agent Taggart said.

  Mr. Weathersky turned to him. “Is it?”

  “I used it. It worked. It just didn’t work the way Dr. Hughes thought it should.”

  Mr. Weathersky drummed his fingers on the table. “Tell me exactly what you did with it, and what happened.”

  Ben explained the range experiment that Dr. Hughes had set up, his actuating thoughts, and the ice missile they had produced. “Dr. Hughes stopped the tests at that point.”

  “I can see why,” Mr. Weathersky said. “Now, tell me about the day of the attack on the lab.”

  So Ben, this time with Peter’s input, told everything that had happened from the moment the Dread Cloaks entered the lab to when he and Peter lost consciousness.

  “I’m impressed, Ben,” Mr. Weathersky said. “You had the presence of mind in that situation to actuate a lightning bolt? Not many could have done that without much more extensive training.”

  “I had augmentation.” Ben wasn�
��t going to allow this man’s flattery to get inside him.

  “Even so,” Mr. Weathersky said. “Is there anything else you can tell me? Anything about that day that stands out to you?”

  Peter shrugged. “Dr. Hughes was late.”

  “Did she say why?” Mr. Weathersky asked.

  “She said she’d been making contact with other researchers on the subject of portable augmentation.”

  That’s right. Ben remembered that now. And there was one man, in particular. Someone she thought would be an ally. But what was his name?

  “That must be how they found her,” Agent Taggart said. “That’s how she came to Poole’s attention.”

  “Agreed,” Mr. Weathersky said.

  But Ben felt there had to be more to it than that. They were missing something, and it had to do with that other man. His name. What was it?

  “What are your orders, sir?” Agent Spear asked.

  “Before we proceed,” Agent Taggart said, “should we dismiss Ben and Peter?”

  “No.” Mr. Weathersky stared at the table. “I believe they are an essential part of this operation. They both know Dr. Hughes. Ben knows the device, which is clearly too dangerous to remain in Dread Cloak hands.”

  Ben doubted Quantum League hands were any safer.

  “A rescue mission?” Agent Taggart asked.

  Mr. Weathersky shook his head. “Yes, but not a strike mission. Dr. Hughes will be too heavily guarded. This will have to be an inside job.”

  Agent Spear rubbed his chin. “We don’t have any undercovers or assets in play that could get close enough.”

  “Is there anyone we could turn?” Mr. Weathersky asked. “Recruit a double agent.”

  “None of our current candidates are close enough to Poole,” Agent Taggart said.

  “Hold on now.” Agent Spear sat forward. “We might have someone.”

  “Who is it?” Mr. Weathersky asked.

  Agent Spear appeared to hesitate. “Ronin.”

  Agent Taggart snorted. “You must be joking.”

  Agent Spear said nothing.

  She raised her voice. “Are you out of your mind?”

  “If we had another three months for this operation,” Agent Spear said, “we might be able to come up with someone else. But right now, I believe he’s our only viable option.”

  Agent Taggart leaned an elbow on the table and pointed at Agent Spear. “You bring Ronin into this, and we might as well stage a full frontal assault. The operation will fail before it’s even begun! What are you thinking, Greg?”

  “Have you got any better ideas?”

  Mr. Weathersky held up his hands like Ben’s teachers did to break up a fight.

  The agents fell silent.

  “It will only be a matter of time,” Mr. Weathersky said, “before the gun is augmenting with accuracy and efficiency. We must move quickly, and consider all options. Agent Spear, will you bring me the dossier on Ronin?”

  Agent Spear rose from his chair. “Yes, sir.” He left the room.

  After he’d left, Agent Taggart put her hand on the table. “Sir, I —”

  “Class Three actuations, Agent Taggart.” Mr. Weathersky looked hard at her. Ben sensed a change in the waves coming off him. He wasn’t commanding loyalty right now. He was commanding respect and fear. How did he do that?

  The director continued. “If Poole gets that gun working, the Dread Cloaks will be operating with Class Three actuations. We’re talking about terrible storms. Tornadoes. Maybe even small earthquakes. What will we do then?”

  Earthquakes. Something tickled Ben’s mind. That man. His name.

  “I do understand that, sir,” Agent Taggart said. “But I also know Ronin.”

  What was the name?

  Agent Spear returned a moment later with a thick file in his hand. He handed it to Mr. Weathersky and took his seat. “Ethan Morrow, aka Ronin. Former Quantum Agent, went rogue nearly fifteen years ago. Since then, he’s operated on several heist crews working low-level crime. Staying under the radar.”

  Mr. Weathersky flipped through the file. “Where is he now?”

  “Last known affiliation was the Paracelsus crew,” Agent Spear said. “As far as we know, he’s still heading them up. An anonymous tip came in a week ago. Ronin’s planning a jewel heist soon. Intel says it’s legit.”

  “All right,” Mr. Weathersky said. “What makes you think he could get close to Poole and Dr. Hughes?”

  “He and Poole ran on a crew together ten years ago when Poole was just starting out in the Dread Cloaks.”

  Mr. Weathersky looked up at the ceiling. “The old True Coat crew, if I’m not mistaken.”

  “That’s correct, sir,” Agent Spear said. “We caught them in a heist and nabbed Ronin. Everyone else escaped. Ronin eventually escaped, too, but the point is, he could have rolled on the rest of the crew when he was in custody and he didn’t.”

  “So you think Poole will trust him,” Mr. Weathersky said.

  “As far as Poole trusts anyone,” Agent Spear said.

  Mr. Weathersky closed the file. “And you think we could turn Ronin?”

  “With the proper leverage, yes.”

  Agent Taggart laughed. “You’ll never turn him. He can’t be turned. He’s in it for himself.”

  Mr. Weathersky closed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “Break the operation down for me. Likelihood of success, scale of one to ten. Agent Taggart?”

  Scale. The tickling in Ben’s mind returned.

  “If Ronin is involved,” she said, “it’s a nonstarter. Zero.”

  Scale. Earthquake.

  Mr. Weathersky turned to Agent Spear. “Same question.”

  “Realistically,” he said, “four or five, sir. But it’s still the only option available.”

  The name was right there. Ben could almost grab it. It was …

  “I agree. Until we come up with another solution, we’ll move forward with —”

  “Richter!” Ben said.

  Everyone turned to look at him.

  “Sorry.” Ben bowed his head. “I’ve been trying to remember that name.”

  The two agents looked at each other. They looked at Mr. Weathersky. Mr. Weathersky looked right into Ben’s eyes.

  “And why would you be trying to remember that name?”

  Ben felt the director’s gaze like a hot wind in his face. “I, uh — I mean, that was the guy. The guy who was going to help Dr. Hughes with portable augmentation.”

  He looked to Peter for agreement, but Peter just looked confused.

  Agent Spear chewed on a corner of his lip. “You don’t suppose …”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Agent Taggart said. “Poole probably used the name to cover his tracks. Richter doesn’t exist.”

  “What do you mean?” Ben asked.

  “Richter,” Mr. Weathersky said, “is supposedly a powerful criminal overlord. A mastermind. When we first heard of him, we tried to find out who he was. We dedicated an entire unit of agents to that purpose, and after years of work, they had nothing to show for it. We concluded that Richter is a kind of gangster tall tale, a bogeyman, and we closed the case.”

  “And yet,” Agent Spear said, “the finest trick of the devil is to persuade you that he does not exist.”

  “Baudelaire?” Mr. Weathersky said. “I’m impressed, Agent Spear. Nevertheless, let us concentrate on the devil we do know.”

  Agent Spear nodded. “Poole.”

  “Ronin,” Agent Taggart said.

  Mr. Weathersky frowned. “Make that two devils.”

  “YOU really don’t remember?” Ben and Peter stood outside their smaller training room, waiting for Sasha. “Richter?”

  “The name doesn’t sound familiar at all,” Peter said. “I wasn’t going to contradict you in there, but I didn’t know what you were talking about.”

  “But you were there.”

  Peter’s smile was crooked and apologetic. “Sorry.”

 
; Ben gave up, frustrated. He was certain the name was important, somehow. He couldn’t say how, he just felt it. He didn’t want to forget it again, so every few minutes, he repeated it a few times in his head.

  Richter.

  Richter.

  Richter.

  After a few times of this, the name stopped feeling so slippery. Like a noodle drying, it stuck to the wall of his brain.

  “Change of plans, boys.” Sasha marched toward them down the hallway. “No history lesson today. You’re to be field-ready ASAP. Mr. Weathersky’s orders.”

  “Why?” Ben asked.

  “Weren’t you in that meeting? They just briefed me, and the three of us will be part of the operation to take down the Paracelsus crew.”

  Ben had said it before, but he guessed he needed to say it again. “Sasha, I’m twelve.”

  Peter opened his mouth, probably to say he would be thirteen next month, but Sasha cut him off.

  “You won’t be engaging directly. The director just wants you present, and I’m supposed to babysit you.”

  Ben hadn’t had a babysitter in years. He certainly didn’t need one now. But his resentment wasn’t as strong as his curiosity. “If we’re not engaging, then why are we going?”

  Sasha opened the training room door. “Mr. Weathersky thinks you’re important to this operation.”

  “How?” Peter asked as the three of them entered.

  “It all comes down to entanglement,” she said. “You and Dr. Hughes. You and Poole. You and the portable augmenter. You’re involved. And you can’t play the game if you don’t have all the pieces on the board.”

  So they were all just pieces to Mr. Weathersky? Ben fought the urge to walk out of there, right then. But thoughts of his mom kept him in that room. He would do whatever it took for the League to give him back his life. He also thought of Dr. Hughes. If he could do something to help her, he would do it.

  “Let’s get started,” he said.

  Over the next several days, when they weren’t in their beds or the dining room, Ben and Peter were with Sasha in their training room. With his Locus in his hand, Ben continued to refine his actuations. The more he practiced, the more automatic they became, and the faster he got.

  He learned to not only form a fireball, but to shoot it forward at a target. He learned to actuate rain to extinguish the fireballs Sasha shot at him. He learned how to fight using actuations, the way the agents fought with the Dread Cloaks and the heist crews.