Spell Robbers (9 page)

“What are we going to work on today?” Peter doused his eggs with Tabasco.

“More of the same.” She sipped her coffee. “But it might be a good day to go over some basic history.”

Peter stretched out the next few syllables. “Basic like Columbus sailing the ocean blue?”

“Not quite,” Sasha said.

“There is something I’ve noticed, though,” Peter said. “The League seems to do everything with paper. Where are all the computers?”

“The microprocessors in computers work because of quantum mechanics,” Sasha said. “All the actuation going on around here fries them pretty quick, so they don’t bother with them. Cell phones and TVs don’t last long, either.”

Agent Spear walked into the room a short while later, before they’d finished eating. He glanced around at everyone, and then said, “He’s here.”

Ben looked at Sasha.

“Mr. Weathersky,” she said.

“He’d like to speak to everyone,” Agent Spear said. “We’re convening in the main training room in ten.” Then he left.

Sasha looked at their plates. “Hurry and finish eating.”

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?”