Chương 32: Bk 1 Ch 29: Lesson

There's been nothing new on the informant for quite a while now, which is both good news and bad news. As far as I've been able to tell, no one in the gang has suddenly started acting suspicious or changed their behavior significantly, which means they probably haven't realized we're onto them. The police don't seem to be doing anything differently either, although my information there is quite a bit more limited.

But it also means I'm gonna have to track them down the hard way, and there's no telling how much damage they could quietly be doing in the meantime. Hopefully once I've caught them, I'll be able to figure out exactly how badly they've compromised us. For now, I can't do much except wait for Officer Maloney to get me the intel I need, so I do my best not to worry about it. Elliot's back from his testing, although I've only talked to him briefly.

It sounds like things are finally starting to settle down a little for him, and to celebrate, he invites me over to his house for the first time.

"I'm, uh, I'm thinking about trying Dungeons and Dragons," he tells me over the phone.

"Do you wanna play?"

"Maybe," I say, then ask the obvious question.

"Will Emily be there?"

"... Actually, it was her idea. She offered to be the Dungeon Master." I snort.

"Of course she did." I'm silent for a few seconds.

"Lemme talk to Alex about it."

"Sure, that's fair," he says.

"It's okay if you don't want to come, I'm sure we can find enough people for a group. I guess I can always ask Dillon and Riley. It's just, they still don't know who I am, and I'd kinda have to tell them if I invited them over." The worst part is, I don't think he's even trying to guilt-trip me into coming, he's just being honest.

"I'll have to think about it, I'll let you know." I talk to Alex the next day.

"Do you want to go?" she asks me.

"I mean, kinda? I don't really care about D&D that much, honestly, it was always Emily who wanted to try it. But I do want to spend time with Elliot."

"Let's give it a try, then. If it ends up being awkward, you can always just say it wasn't really your thing."

"Okay, sure. Thanks." He schedules it for Thursday evening, since I still work on the weekends. Me and Alex drive over together. It's the first time I've really been inside his house properly, and it's just as fancy as the outside would suggest. The double front doors lead to to a huge entry hall with an honest-to-god chandelier hanging from the ceiling, and twin staircases leading up to an overlooking balcony. Elliot seems more than a little embarrassed about the whole thing.

"I can't really do anything with the house until my parents' trial is over, and that'll probably be a few months at least. But it also seems really wasteful to live somewhere else, so I'm kind of stuck here for now. I had to hire back a couple of the people my parents fired just to keep the whole place from falling apart, and also cause I still need someone to drive me around until I can get my license."

Part of me wants to tease him, but I know better than most that just because a house is big doesn't make it a nice place to live.

"Do you think you will end up selling it eventually?"

"I guess probably? I definitely don't want to live here all by myself. Maybe there's something else I could do with it, but that'd probably also take a lot of remodeling." I consider offering to move in with him, as I have before, but there's a few good reasons not to. Most obviously, that risks way too much attention from ABRA, especially right now. His house is also in the middle of Surf 'n Turf's territory, and that just seems like a bad idea no matter how quiet they've been lately.

Maybe I'll revisit the idea after I graduate, if he hasn't sold the place by then. The rest of the place looks marginally more like a normal house, but only marginally. The room we're playing in is some kind of office clearly meant to mimic a corporate boardroom, with a polished wood table running down the center. At least the chairs are comfortable, and using the place to play D&D does amuse me slightly. Me and Alex greet Emily and Anja, who are already here.

"So what was testing like?" I ask as Emily starts getting out an impressive amount of books, papers, and dice.

"Kinda interesting, I guess, but also kinda stressful," he says.

"Uh, technically I'm not supposed to talk about it, so don't say anything, okay?"

"Sure." The fact that Elliot is friends with me in the first place is almost certainly a bigger sin than whatever he's about to tell me.

"Well, mostly they focused on my magic, and all the new stuff I've figured out how to do with it. Measured how quickly I can make plants grow with varying levels of control, and that sort of thing. A little bit of animal testing, but I told them I hadn't really practiced much with that, and the results were, uh, not great, so they stopped that pretty quickly. Then, they also measured stuff like, you know, how fast I can run, how high I can jump, how much weight I can lift.

Did you know it's actually kind of inconsistent?"

"Like how?"

"Um, well, like, they've got this big sort of pressure plate thing, where you just push up on it and it measures how hard you're pushing. According to that, I can exert around two thousand pounds of force. But then they gave me this big block of metal to pick up, and I could lift it no problem. Afterwards, they told me it was solid tungsten and weighs more than five thousand pounds. Apparently that's normal, how strong magicals are depends on what we're doing, and how easily we can see ourselves doing it."

"Huh." I'd never realized that, rarely lifting things with my physical strength alone.

"That sounds sort of fun, actually," says Anja.

"What was the stressful part?"

"Well, they also asked a lot of questions about, like, what kind of practice I'd been doing on my own and stuff," he says.

"And Chimera was right about them really pushing the whole strike team thing, too. They had Snowflake give me a whole big pep talk, at least she was real nice about it. There was, uh, there was also one other test, a new one." For some reason, he pauses, blushing slightly.

"Yeah?" prompts Alex.

"Yeah. They called it the, uh, Olbrecht-Sandoval Scale. Said it was strictly voluntary. Dynamic told me a little about it. He, uh, he called it the Chicken Scale."

"The Chicken Scale?" asks Emily, laughing slightly.

"Uh huh. See, uh, the ABRA researchers have been really keen to try and measure how tough magicals are pretty much since the beginning. They weren't allowed to for a long time, cause that would involve intentionally trying to hurt registered magicals, and their main job is keeping us happy. But then last year, the Houston strike team apparently got caught playing chicken by, uh, by shooting themselves with bigger and bigger guns."

"Holy shit, seriously?" I ask, laughing incredulously. Even Emily looks torn between amusement and disapproval.

"Yup. So, the scientists begged the administration not to punish them so they could finally study it. Then some other strike teams heard about it and asked if they could get tested as well, to prove they're tougher, and, well, you know. It kind of escalated from there, so ABRA figured they might as well just go with it. They said it's actually the best way to objectively compare the power of different magicals that they've found so far. So, uh, anyway, I said why not?

They started by shooting me with some dinky little pistol, it basically felt like getting poked real hard. And then they eventually worked their way up to some kind of sniper rifle before it actually broke skin. Apparently that gives me a rating of 4. Dynamic said he's rated 10, which means they needed to go all the way up to, like, the kind of bullets fighter jets shoot before it hurt him."

"Boys," huffs Emily, rolling her eyes. I don't say anything, but I share a glance with Anja; the odds that we're not going to try shooting each other in the near future are pretty much zero.

"Anyway, I think we're all ready. Are you guys ready to start making your characters?"

"Sure, but you're gonna have to explain everything, none of us really know what we're doing," says Elliot.

"That's fine, I figured I would. I've got a list of all the different classes and races here, so have a look." There's a lot to read right off the bat, and I wonder what I've gotten myself into. After around half an hour of reading mixed with the occasional comment or joke, I settle on a half-elf rogue. Alex is playing a half-orc barbarian, while Anja chooses a elvish sorceress. Elliot decides to play a human druid, and we all tease him a little for being so on the nose.

Then we actually have to assign our stats and stuff.

"Man, I didn't realize there was gonna be so much math in this," complains Elliot halfheartedly.

"Oh, stop whining, it's all easy," I say. Anja snorts.

"Yeah, says the girl in calculus." Eventually, everyone figures everything out, and Emily clears her throat.

"Welcome, adventurers, to the Kingdom of Cormyr! The Kingdom lies in turmoil, for though the ancient dragon Nalavara has been slain and her dark armies driven back, King Azoun IV perished during the final battle alongside his eldest daughter and heir, Princess Tanalasta. Now, the crown has passed to her infant son, Azoun V. As nobles scheme for power and bandits skulk in the ruins, rumors have spread of the treasures which surely must lie in Nalavara's lair, waiting to be claimed.

Great danger lies in store for you who dare to seek the dragon's lair, dark creatures and beasts. But perhaps the greatest danger of all are your fellow adventurers, each of them hungry to claim the riches, fame, and glory for themselves at any cost!" I can't help but grin. Even if I'm not quite sold on this whole D&D thing, and being around Emily is uncomfortable for multiple reasons, I have to admit she's doing a good job of it.

We end up playing for around two hours, having a few encounters with bandits and ultimately reaching the town whose ruling noble supposedly possess a map to the dragon's lair. We decide to call it good there for the evening, heading out into Elliot's enormous backyard for a while. It's a little past 8, with a spectacular sunset overhead. I immediately pull out a joint.

"Anyone else want some?"

"Is that marijuana?" demands Emily immediately. I can't help but snicker a little at how shocked she sounds. Even if she's managed to figure some things out over the past year, in other ways, she's still very sheltered.

"Yup. Wanna try it?"

"Um, no, no thank you," she says, sounding more nervous than outright disapproving.

"Suit yourself," I say, shrugging.

"Alex?"

"Thanks," says Alex, taking a puff, then offering the joint to Elliot. He takes a hit as well, then passes it back to me.

"You smoke marijuana as well?" Emily asks him.

"Sometimes," he says, shrugging.

"Mostly only when I hang out with Gabby, honestly. It's kinda fun, though." She frowns slightly, but doesn't answer aside from that.

"Not you?" she asks Anja after a moment, noticing that we're not passing it to her. Anja shakes her head.

"No, I had a… bad experience with weed the first time I tried it." Emily looks like she wants to ask some questions about that, but she's considerate enough to not push it. Instead, Elliot speaks up.

"I, uh, I actually had this idea while I was doing testing. What if I, like, grew some weed plants? You know, with magic? I might be able to, like, adjust it a little, get rid of whatever part you reacted badly too."

"Oh, you don't have to do that, I'm fine sticking with just the occasional beer or whatever," says Anja.

"Well, I mean, I kinda want to just try it it anyway, just for fun," admits Elliot.

"I just thought, you know, maybe making something you'd like would be a good goal to work towards." Oh, there's no way I'm letting an opportunity like this go to waste.

"I've got some friends who could maybe help you with that, as long as you promise to let me try anything you cook up first." I'm not just being selfish, I've got by far the most experience with drugs of anyone here, and I can always transform if things go really badly.

"Also, you probably shouldn't let ABRA catch you."

"Yeah, probably not," he agrees, laughing a little nervously, and then, "Sure, why not?" Emily huffs a loud sigh.

"Well, I'm clearly in the minority here, but I hope you all realize how irresponsible this is."

"Obviously," I say, grinning.

"Can't have any fun if without being a little irresponsible sometimes. Or do your parents know you're playing D&D today?" I distinctly remember the only time she asked them if she could try it; it'd taken some real fast backtracking and lots of invoking C. S. Lewis to convince them that all the fantasy books and movies she loved weren't having a bad influence on her.

"That's hardly the same thing, D&D isn't illegal," she objects, but her blush lets me know I hit the mark. We hang out until it gets fully dark, then head out. After I get home, I give Jess a call, letting her know I've got something to ask her in-person, nothing especially urgent. I suppose it's technically a little risky with the informant still present, but I'm sure I can trust everyone who knows my civilian identity; if I couldn't, Chimera would've already kicked down my front door by now.

I head over to their place on Saturday. Jess and David have stepped back from actively selling almost entirely at this point, a situation which suits them just fine. They've become my prime growers, and have even started training other members to further expand our production. At this point, they mostly use their original little greenhouse in their backyard as their personal laboratory to mess around with breeding new strains, which makes it an ideal spot for Elliot to potentially experiment a little as well.

The fact that I've secretly been friends with Apollo for several months now is not at all common knowledge in the gang, and is quite a surprise to both of them. Once I describe the situation a little and reassure them that he's got just as much to lose from being exposed as we do, though, they agree to help surprisingly quickly. I try to reign in their expectations a little, we have no idea if Elliot can do anything more than just make the weed grow faster, but I can't deny being more than a little curious myself.

Getting Elliot over there is a little tricky, but not too bad. I'm sure he's being watched, but I'm also nearly sure it's less like the way I was watching Surf 'n Turf to identify potential targets, and more like the way I was watching Anja back when she kept trying to find ways to hurt herself. On my suggestion, he takes the bus downtown after school on Monday rather than having his driver take him home, completely reasonable given that he's already working to become more independent in various ways.

We meet for a late lunch or early dinner at a pizza place, and then I drive him over to Jess and David's myself, taking a bit of a circuitous route just to make absolutely sure no one is following.

"Hey, this is Elliot," I introduce him.

"Elliot, these are my friends Jess and David."

"Nice to meet you," says Jess, shaking his hand, doing a pretty good job at concealing any hint of nervousness.

"You want a snack or anything?"

"Um, that's okay, we actually just ate," says Elliot.

"Thanks, though."

"Sure. In that case, you wanna just head out back right now?"

"Yeah, sure." We follow them through the house and out to the backyard.

"So, how much do you know about weed?" asks David. Elliot shrugs.

"Not much, really. I just smoke it occasionally, I don't know anything about the different, uh, types or whatever."

"Well, the main active compound in weed is THC - that's tetrahydrocannabinol - so the more THC, the stronger the weed is. But there's tons of other organic compounds in it as well, that also affect exactly what kind of high it gives you."

"Huh," says Elliot.

"I never really thought about it as a science thing, but I guess it kind of makes sense."

"Sure, drugs are nothing but chemistry," agrees David.

"And I guess that's really the first question. How much do you need to know about whatever you're, uh, using your magic on to make it do what you want?"

"It kinda depends?" says Elliot, shrugging again.

"I can make something grow the way it naturally wants to grow without really knowing anything about it at all. The more I want to change it, the more I need to know about it, or else it'll just die as soon as I stop using my magic on it. Like, I can make a flower grow into a different, similar flower instead, cause the stuff inside that I don't understand real well still pretty much works the same way. But I can't make a flower grow into a tree, because the stuff inside is too different."

"Hmm," says David.

"Well, lemme show you a few of the different strains we've got growing here, to maybe give you a better idea of the difference between them. So, the original two strains of cannabis plants are indica and sativa. They've been crossbred a ton over the years, so most strains these days are some kind of hybrid, but sometimes breeders try and grow a pure strain. The general rule of thumb is that indicas tend to be more relaxing and low-energy, and sativas tend to be more euphoric and high-energy. Lemme see…

Yeah, this guy here is a classic Purple Urkle, which is close to a pure indica. I don't think we're growing any pure sativas right now, but this guy is Sour Diesel, which a sativa-dominant hybrid, and you can see some differences between them right away…" I don't really have much to add to the conversation, but it's honestly fascinating just to listen. I'm obviously not completely clueless when it comes to my main product, but I've never really full-on nerded out about it like this.

Even more interesting to me, though, is the connection with magic, and the potential to reveal details about how Elliot's magic works that even ABRA might not know. I don't know exactly what research they've done behind the scenes, of course, but I do know that there aren't any laws specifically regarding fully independent lifeforms created through magic.

In the early days, there was a lot of fear over the possibility of magical plagues, but it never happened; personally, I suspect that Virgo is prohibited from giving out any magic with the immediate potential to wipe out humanity. Regardless, while there are magicals who can temporarily summon unicorns, there's never been a magical who can actually make a real, fully biological one. The first experiment is simple.

Jess plants a seed in an empty plot, and Elliot grows it into a full plant over the course of a minute or so. Jess and Dave then examine it carefully, eventually declaring it identical to a plant grown naturally as far as they can tell. That much is expected, but the interesting part is that the adult plant appears to have been cultivated using the same methods they use to maximize THC content; just putting the exact same seed in the ground and leaving it to grow on its own would likely produce much less.

The explanation seems fairly clear: Elliot's expectations for how the plant should grow were shaped by all the plants they just showed him. Next, they plant a seed from one strain and ask him to grow it into a plant of a different strain, one growing right next to it so he'll have a handy reference.

He doesn't seem to have any extra difficulty doing so, but this time, when they examine the resulting adult plant, they declare it not quite a perfect match, citing tiny differences in smell and appearance that I certainly wouldn't have been able to notice. That's actually a more exciting result for them, the plant potentially being a brand-new strain, but they still repeat the experiment.

This time, when Elliot focuses on those tiny differences they highlighted, he again manages to produce an identical replica as far as they can tell. After that, the experiments start getting more interesting. They start having him grow hybrids intentionally, plants of one strain with some attribute from a different strain.

When they ask for changes in technical terms, the results are mostly failures of some sort or another, but when they ask for something like "Make it smell more like that one" instead, the results at least appear to be successes. They get more exotic, asking him to grow a plant with edible berries instead of buds, which results in several failures. As he warned, all of the plants die the moment he finishes growing them, and the resulting berries never contain any THC even when they're not completely inedible.

That's a little disappointing, but not surprising. Elliot speculates that he'd need to fully understand the plant he was trying to make on a cellular level to succeed, obviously impossible. He's restricted to changes that he understands on an intuitive level, and that are also compatible with the original plant, so that all the parts he doesn't understand still more or less fit together naturally. Finally, there's a real success, at least from Jess and David's perspective.

They reiterate all the signs of a strain with low vs high THC content, and then take a seed from one of their highest THC strains and ask him to make it even stronger. The result is a plant with dark purple buds streaked with red, orange, and pink, and covered with a sort of thick fuzz.

"Holy shit," says Jess, leaning in close to examine it with Dave.

"I've never seen trichomes that dense before. This has gotta be, like, what? Forty percent at least?"

"Maybe even fifty," says Dave.

"I didn't think that was even possible."

"That's good, right?" asks Elliot. Jess snorts.

"I'm pretty sure you just created literally the most potent weed that's ever existed. Yeah, it's good."

"Don't get too excited quite yet," I say.

"We still don't know how growing it this way will affect the final product. It might've replicated just the appearance, without the actual function. Remember, I'm testing it first to be safe. Also, even if you can breed this strain, we're gonna have to tone it down a little to sell it, or people will start asking awkward questions."

"Yeah, sure, of course," says Jess.

"I'm still excited, though."

"So, uh, are you gonna smoke it now, then?" asks Elliot. David answers for me.

"Nah, it takes a good few weeks to dry and cure weed before it's ready to smoke. We're gonna make brownies with it instead, that'll only take a couple of days."

"Oh, okay. I guess that was it, then?"

"Probably for today, yeah," I say.

"Like I said, we gotta see what this shit actually does before we go any further." Elliot nods.

"Fair enough. Uh, thanks. It was honestly really interesting. I wonder if, like, actually studying biology properly would let me do new stuff with my magic?"

"It's definitely possible," I say thoughtfully.

"And thank you," adds Dave. I drive Elliot home after that. I don't see him again until the following Thursday, when we all go over to his house for the second D&D session. When I get there, I hand him a tupperware container.

"Hey, here are the brownies Jess and Dave made. Half of them, anyway, they kept the other half. Just in case you want to try one yourself."

"Oh, uh, thanks," says Elliot, taking the containing.

"Have, uh, have you tried one yet?"

"Uh huh."

"Um… How was it?"

"Dunno yet. We'll probably find out in about half an hour," I say, grinning.

"Wait, you just took one?" he asks, slightly alarmed.

"Right before we're about to play D&D?"

"Yeah, why not? Should make things a little more interesting. Anyway, it's always best to try new drugs with sober friends around." I guess it would probably technically be better to try them for the first time without overlapping it with any other activity, but that sounds boring. I'm sure if things end up going badly, someone will be able to help me to the bathroom or something so I can transform safely and flush it out of my system. You might be reading a pirated copy.

Look for the official release to support the author. Fortunately, Emily's already got everything pretty much set up already, so all we need to pick up where we left off is a quick reminder of what was going on. I do feel the edible start creeping up on me right around half an hour in, and I can tell right away that it's gonna be a strong one.

The fuzziness makes it harder to focus on the mechanics and the dice-rolling and stuff, but it actually has the opposite effect on the roleplaying aspects, I'm already getting way more drawn into the story than I did last time. But then everything keeps getting fuzzier, and a part of me feels like maybe I should be getting concerned, but the fuzziness makes it so hard to remember why… The wizard's chanting cuts off with a gurgle as I drag my dagger across his throat.

I toss his body aside and dash for the enemy cleric, several feet to the side and further towards the main clash. She notices me just before I can reach her, turning and shouting "Another behind! Jandaren is down!" An invisible force grips me, restraining me before I can drive my dagger home. The cleric swiftly backs away, her face tight with concentration as she mutters her foul prayers. Then she shrieks as lightning strikes her from the side, her muscles spasming as she falls to the ground.

Released, I dart forwards and finish her off with a single stab through the heart, offering a brief nod of acknowledgement to Shalai for her assistance. The leader of the opposing party roars in outrage, furiously laying into Ulthwen with his greatsword, and she laughs as she meets him blow for blow. Their other fighter is already on the defensive, desperate trying to fend off Tobias in his form of an enormous brown bear.

I give him one more thing to worry about, feinting at him from behind and forcing him to divide his efforts, and he goes down swiftly. Their leader lasts for an impressively long time after that, but the outcome of the battle is never in doubt.

"A fine battle!" declares Ulthwen as she pulls her axe free from his armor.

"I suppose any battle you walk away from is fine enough," replies Tobias as he resumes his human form.

"Are you hurt?"

"Scratches only. They will make for fine scars," says Ulthwen.

"Yes, well fought indeed. I knew siding with you was the right choice," says our guide, finally approaching from the tree he'd hidden behind during the battle.

"Shall we split the spoils evenly?" I snort.

"We'll split the spoils evenly among everyone who actually fought. Do you think I've forgotten that it took holding my knife to your throat before you admit you were planning on leading us into an ambush? Be grateful you get to walk away with your life."

"Of course, of course, a thousand apologies again," he says, wilting.

"How far is the true dragon's lair from here?" asks Shalai, ignoring his cringing.

"Ah, not more than a day's travel, I believe," he replies.

"Then I suggest we camp here, and proceed onwards in the morning."

"Might as well," I agree.

"You back with us yet, Gabby?" asks Tobias.

"What do you mean? I'm standing right here, aren't I?" I say, frowning in confusion.

"I was gonna go have a look around, see if there's any other surprises our friend here forgot to mention."

"Nope, not quite yet," says Shalai, snickering.

"Should we, like, call the doctor or something?" asks our guide.

"It's been almost three hours now, I'm really starting to get worried."

"Nah, she's fine, she's obviously having fun," says Shalai.

"Anyway, I think Elliot's right, she's starting to come down a little." Ulthwen walks up to me and waves her hand in my face.

"Gabby? Earth to Gabby, please come in, Gabby." I blink several times.

"Huhwhat?"

"Yeah, she's starting to come around," says Alex.

"Gabby? How many fingers am I holding up?"

"... Three?" I ask hesitantly, looking around and trying to get my bearings. Why am I sitting at a big, fancy table in the middle of this mountain forest? And why is everyone staring at me and grinning?

"Hey, welcome back, Gabby!" says Anja, clapping enthusiastically. I force myself to focus, and Elliot's office slowly swims back into view, although I'm still catching glimpses of trees in the corner of my vision. I gather myself for a few more seconds, then ask, "Uh… What the fuck just happened?"

"We were kinda hoping you could tell us," says Alex, snickering.

"Exactly how many of those brownies did you eat?" asks Elliot.

"Just the one," I mutter.

"You've been, um, getting really in character," says Emily.

"It was really impressive acting, honestly, even if it was kind of hard to figure out what action you wanted to take sometimes. Alex has been rolling your dice and stuff for you, and, uh, also stopping you from climbing onto the table a few times. You're sure you're okay?" I'm silent for a few seconds.

"I tried to climb the table?"

"You also hid under it, and then jumped out and murdered a chair with a pencil," says Anja, still making zero effort to hide her huge grin.

"And during a chase scene, you ran straight into the wall. We counted it as rolling a 1." I glance at the others, hoping for some sign she's exaggerating. There isn't any.

"... I'm never gonna fucking live this down, am I?" I ask with a sigh.

"Absolutely not," she agrees.

"Okay, seriously though, weed is not supposed to do that no matter how strong it is. I don't think even acid can make you hallucinate an entire fantasy adventure. Elliot, whatever you did to that weed, it was definitely way more than just increasing the potency."

"... Huh," he says.

"So, uh, does that mean I, like, created a brand new drug?"

"Kinda seems like it," I agree. I sprout a grin of my own.

"I'm so proud of you." He huffs a laugh and rolls his eyes.

"Whatever."

"I wonder if the extra effects have something to do with how you subconsciously expected a really strong drug to work?" I speculate.

"I'll have to try some of the other plants you grew as well, the ones that were supposed to be normal. Honestly, I definitely recommend you try one of these yourself, if could reveal a ton about how your magic works and what else it's capable of. It'd practically be irresponsible not to," I say, grinning.

"Just, uh, maybe start with like a quarter of one or something."

"I suppose I can't stop you all from experimenting with untested magical drugs if that's what you really want to do, but maybe not during D&D next time, hmm?" says Emily dryly.

"... I mean, it definitely enhanced the experience," I say, giving her an unrepentant grin. She sighs and rolls her eyes. All in all, I'm glad I insisted on being the first one to try the brownies. I'm not sure if being a magical myself made a difference in either direction, but I tell Jess and David to try a quarter of one to start with as well, just to be safe. I'm definitely interested to see how the unusual effects manifest for different people, and in different contexts.

The experimentation gets pushed to the side on Saturday, when Officer Maloney finally lets me know he's got some results for me. I arrange to meet immediately, and he gives me three names. It's not very many given how long it took him; whether or not that's a good thing depends entirely on whether any of them are actually the informant. One of them I can discount immediately, since it was one of the false names I gave him as a precaution. The other two are actually in the Sun Eaters: Seth Walker and Jaden Hart.

Both are associates, joining just a couple of months ago, and I've never actually met either of them. I spend a little while considering how to proceed. At this point, keeping my investigation absolutely secret is going to really start making things a lot harder. But I also can't be sure either lead will pay off, and if they don't, then I'll have tipped my hand for nothing. After some thought, I decide a little extra risk is worth it in the name of moving things along.

One of the two associates, Seth, was recruited by one of my enforcers, Dylan. I can't absolutely rule out of the possibility that one of my enforcers flipped on me, but they're generally my most committed people, and all of them have also committed much more serious crimes than just dealing drugs. It seems like the safest place to start. Since Sarge is already involved anyway, I have him contact Dylan for me, just to add another tiny little layer of safety.

I meet both of them at the community center, a little before midnight. Dylan is a little nervous and on guard, understandable enough.

"Hey boss, what's going on? There a problem?"

"Hopefully not," I reply.

"I need to ask you a few questions about one of the associates you recruited a couple of months ago. Seth Walker."

"Shit, is he in trouble? Are the cops after him again?" asks Dylan.

"Again?" I ask.

"Yeah, he got busted for weed last year, spent a few months in the slammer. Lost his job and his place, so I let him move in with me while he tried to get his feet under him. That's how he ended up joining, he was having trouble finding a new gig with a record."

"I see," I say, nodding slowly.

"You were already friends with him, then?" Dylan nods back.

"Since highschool."

"And as far as you know, he served his full sentence? He wasn't released early?"

"No, his sentence wasn't long enough for parole or anything. Wait, shit, do you think he might be a rat or something? He's definitely not, I'll vouch for him a hundred percent." I resist the urge to scowl. Well, no real point in trying to hide it now.

"I have reason to believe there's an informant in the gang, yes. But from what you've said, I'm inclined to agree that it isn't Seth."

"No chance," agrees Dylan, shaking his head vigorously.

"He actually told me the cops tried to offer him some kind of deal a couple of weeks into his sentence, implied he could get out early if he did something for 'em, but he told 'em to go suck a fat one." I guess it's still possible Seth is playing some kind of mind game by admitting that, but it strikes me as extremely unlikely. For now, I think I can probably cross his name off my list.

"That's good to know. Even if Seth is cleared, though, keep this to yourself for now."

"Of course," says Dylan.

"You need any help flushing the rat out, just lemme know." I consider for a moment, then nod.

"I believe a little help would be useful. Meet me tomorrow night at 11." The other potential lead, Jaden, was recruited by a guy who goes by Elman, one of Brian's dealers. Unlike Dylan, I've only met him a couple of times. Brian and his girlfriend Leah haven't done much to distinguish themselves among my lieutenants, but they haven't caused any problems for me either, just reliably moving product and bringing in profit. Still, I decide not to bring them into the loop like I did with Sarge.

I have no reason to think Elman himself is the rat, but I'll still take a few precautions. After again meeting Dylan and Sarge briefly to give them their orders, I fly directly over to Elman's place, a fairly small house in south Franklin. I do a little surveillance, making sure he's the only one there. Then, I let myself in through the back door. I find him watching TV on the sofa, a bong and a big bag of Cheetos next to him. I hope he isn't too high, but having him a little high might actually be useful.

"Good evening," I announce myself.

"Jesus fuck!" he yells, nearly falling over as he jumps off the couch.

"Holy- Uh, hey, uh, boss. What can, uh, what can I do for you?"

"Have a seat," I tell him, walking over to the other armchair and sitting down myself. Slowly, he does.

"I need to ask you a few questions about an associate you recruited a couple of months ago. Jaden Hart."

"Jaden? Uh, sure, I guess," he says, clearly still doing his best to not freak out.

"What, uh, what do you wanna know about him?"

"How did he join?"

"Um… Well, he was just one of my customers at first. Met him at a party in, like, January, I think? Maybe February? He said he was looking for a new dealer generally, cause his old one vanished all of a sudden. Think he might've been buying from Surf 'n Turf before, you know. So, uh, I gave him my work number. We ended up hanging out a few times, he seemed like a pretty cool guy. I knew, uh, you were looking to expand, and he seemed kinda interested, so I figured, uh, you know, why not?" I restrain a sigh.

The point of associates is that they're not especially important to the gang, yes, but I still expect my members to exercise a little discretion about who they invite. I guess I'll have to be a little clearer about that going forwards.

"And has he mentioned that he was arrested last November?"

"What? Arrested?" asks Elman blankly.

"Uh, no, I don't know anything about that. You sure?"

"I am. Possession of marijauna and cocaine." Given the timing, I suspect he was probably swept up when the cops were trying to smother the gang war.

"Jesus. No, he didn't say anything. Shit, do you… do you think he made some kinda deal with the cops?"

"I think it's quite likely he did, yes."

"Oh, fuck me. I had no idea, I swear! Fuck, that means the cops probably know who I am, don't they? Fuck, Jesus, what the fuck-""Easy," I interrupt him, holding up a hand.

"Whatever problems he may or may not have caused, I'll handle them."

"... Okay. Yeah, okay. Uh, what d'you need me to do?"

"For now, just wait a few moments. Maybe have a drink of water."

"Sure, okay, yeah." He rises, glancing back at me nervously as he walks over to the kitchen. Half a minute later, there's a knock at the door. I get up and open it without waiting for his permission, finding Dylan as I expected.

"Come in," I say, stepping back.

"How's it looking?" he asks as he closes the door behind him.

"Promising."

"Uh, hey," says Elman.

"Who's, uh, who're you?"

"This is one of my enforcers. You can call him D for now," I say.

"S-sure," stammers Elman, obviously receiving the message that he hasn't quite been cleared of suspicion himself yet.

"I believe Jaden likely is our informant, but I want confirmation. I'll be leaving, while D stays here. When I give him the signal, I want you to call Jaden and inform him that I'd like to speak with him. Tell him to meet us at the park on Fern Hill, on 32nd street." It's a large park near the edge of town, surrounded by plenty of trees, pretty much guaranteed to be deserted this time of night.

"Uh, o-okay. I'm, uh, I'm not sure if I can stop him from figuring out something's wrong, though."

"That won't be an issue. I want him to realize something's wrong."

"Alright, if, um, if you say so. I can do that, then, sure." I nod briefly to Dylan, then leave out the back. Jaden lives in an apartment just south of downtown, closer to Surf 'n Turf's territory than ours, but I'm not expecting any trouble from that direction. I fly over, taking a few minutes to locate the correct place. It's on the second floor, small and run-down looking, which is convenient; the blinds have a gap in them that lets me peer through. Even better, the window is partway open.

I find Jaden sitting on his sofa as well, playing video games. I again take a couple of minutes to verify that no one else is there, then float up to make a call without being overheard. Once that's done, I float back down to observe. It takes less than a minute for his cellphone to ring. Muttering a curse, he pauses the game and answers.

"Yo." I'm behind him, so I can't see his face, but I see him stiffen.

"What? The boss? Right now? What, uh, what does she want?" A pause.

"Uh, o-okay. Where?" Another pause.

"You mean, like, up on the hill? A-and, uh, you're sure she didn't say what this is about? R-right, o-okay then, I'll, uh, I'll head over right away. Right, yeah." He hangs up, and I float slightly sideways just to make sure I'm not visible, but I can still hear him perfectly fine.

"Oh, fuck. Fuck, shit, fuck, Jesus, fuck me, fuck, fuck, fuck! Shit, okay, fuck, I need to fucking think. Fuck. Shit. Alright, fuck." He takes a few deep breaths.

"Fuck. Alright, okay. Alright." There's a few moments of silence, and I peak back in, finding him now on his home phone.

"Um, this is- this is Jaden Hart. Yeah, that's right. Listen, I- I think Schwarzschild is onto me. She- she wants me to meet, right now. It's, uh, it's at that park on 32nd, you know, the one with all the trees. No." A pause.

"Fuck that!" Another pause.

"I don't give a shit, I'm not risking it. I'd rather go to jail than get fucking murdered!" Another pause.

"Whatever, as long as it gets me out of this fucking town. I'll be down at the station in like ten minutes." Well, that seems pretty conclusive. I float back up to the roof and make another quick call, then move over the other side right in time to hear Jaden come out his front door. The walkway is covered, so I wait until he's hurrying down the stairs to the parking lot. Then, I yank him straight into the air at full speed, his scream instantly snatched away by the wind.

I follow, keeping enough distance between us that he probably can't see me in the dark, especially with the way he's flailing. I don't go anywhere near full speed, but I still go fast enough to make things quite uncomfortable for him. Instead of the park he told the cops we were gonna meet at, I head for a large cemetery around half a mile further west, which seems appropriate. I hover a couple thousand feet in the air while I wait for Dylan and Elman to arrive, just to make sure no one will hear him screaming.

After a few minutes of waiting, I see a car pull into the cemetery parking lot. Jaden's screams have trailed off into whimpers, but I still fly over and clamp a hand around his mouth before descending, ignoring his ineffectual flailing. I land near the far edge of the cemetery, dropping him on the grass and landing a few feet closer to the neighboring trees. It takes him almost half a minute to do anything more than lay on the ground and whimper; I'm fine with waiting.

Eventually, he pushes himself enough at least to see me.

"Fuck," is the first thing he says.

"Oh fuck. P-please don't kill me, please! I'm sorry, I- I didn't have a choice! They- the cops forced me!"

"Oh?" I ask curiously.

"How so?"

"They- they said I was gonna go to jail for like ten years! That I- I had enough drugs on me to count as possession with intent to distribute! I just- I was just trying not to ruin my life!"

"And how would you say their offer has worked out for you?"

"Look, I- I didn't tell them anything important, I swear! Just a couple of names, that's it! Just Elman, and Josh, and Aaron, that's it, I promise!"

"You think that's nothing important?" demands Elman, who's come close enough to hear, Dylan following him.

"Fuck you, man! I thought we were fucking friends, you piece of shit!"

"Fuck, oh Jesus," mutters Jaden, and then, "Look, I'm- I'm sorry, okay? It wasn't anything personal, you'd probably do the same thing in my shoes!"

"No the fuck I wouldn't! Cause I'm not a backstabbing piece of shit, and I'm also not a fucking idiot who thinks staying out of jail is worth pissing off a black mask!" I approach Jaden, cutting off his continued whimpering, and force his gaze up by grabbing a fistful of his hair.

"I want to know exactly what you told the police."

"Just- Just the names, like I said!" he stammers. This close, a faint smell reaches my nose; I'm pretty sure he pissed himself at some point.

"They had me check in every two weeks, or sooner if I had something interesting, but it was just, like, rumors and stuff! I don't know any higher-ups, I don't know where the drugs come from or anything, I swear! I won't say anything else, if you let me live, I can, like, give the cops false info and stuff! Whatever you need, I'll do it, I swear, just please don't kill me!" I consider him for several seconds, then let him go and step back.

"Sometimes we make mistakes," I say, then turn to Elman.

"If we're lucky, we get the chance to correct our mistakes." I step towards him and hold out my hand. A silenced pistol appears in it.

"If we're not lucky, we don't." He hesitates for a couple of seconds, then reaches out and takes it. Jaden turns to see him approaching.

"No, no, wait, man! Just wait, please, I'm sorry! No, please man, don't-""Shut the fuck up." The silenced pistol is louder than it is in the movies, about as loud as someone clapping. I dunno if Elman's ever actually shot a gun before, but he can't miss from less than a foot away. Jaden slumps to the ground without a word, a sizeable portion of his brains splattered on the grass behind him.

"Well done," I say, holding out my hand. Elman stares for a few seconds, then jerks slightly and hands the pistol back. I make it vanish again.

"As you heard, the police may be looking for you. I suggest you lay low for a little while."

"... Yeah. Yeah, sure. Thanks," he says, finally looking away from the body.

"Dylan. Take him home so he can collect some things, and then set him up in one of the safehouses. Make sure Josh and Aaron get warned as well, although I doubt they'll be in any immediate danger."

"You got it, boss," he says. He gestures down.

"What about him?"

"I'll take care of it," I reply.

"I intend to make a statement." He snorts.

"Sure. Well, have fun with that." I watch them leave, then retrieve the bullet casing and float the body into the air. I can't do too much about the blood and gore on the grass, but there's not really that much of it. I'm willing to bet it'll get eaten by bugs or whatever before anyone notices, but it doesn't really matter even if they do. I'm not exactly trying to hide his death, after all. With the body in tow, I fly downtown.

I've been considering exactly how blunt of a message I want to send, and I think the answer is "very." It's provocative, sure, but the only real question is whether it's provocative enough to make ABRA get off their asses, and I'm almost certain it's not. We've been careful to avoid even the smallest incident with Surf 'n Turf, just like Chimera demanded. The last thing the white masks will want to do right now is kick the anthill themselves.

I doubt the cops will be real happy about it, but the decision isn't up to them. As long as I'm careful to keep being quiet aside from this, I'm not expecting any meaningful reaction. There are still some lights on in and around the police station even late at night, of course, but most of the windows are dark. I circle it a couple of times, eventually settling on a spot on the side of the building where a tree blocks the light from the nearest street lamp.

Checking to make sure no one's around, I dart down and slice through a no parking sign at the base, cutting it so the metal post makes a sharp point at one corner. Then, I hold Jaden's body against the side of the building, near the roof. With a third gravity field, I angle the signpost carefully on the other side of the street so it'll have plenty of room to accelerate. Then I drive it forwards at full speed. It punches straight through the top of his chest, and several inches into the concrete behind.

Carefully, I let him go. He slumps forwards, but the impromptu skewer holds strong, pinning him in place. Nodding, I float forwards. I slice off the top of the sign, leaving about a foot of metal sticking out of him. Then, a can of black spraypaint appears in my hand. I give it a couple of shakes, and paint the word "RAT" in large letters above him. Floating backwards, I examine the scene. I can see him easily with my supernatural eyesight, but he should be close to invisible from the ground.

I doubt anyone's going to notice him until the sun comes up. Then, everyone is going to notice him. Yeah, I think this should just about get the point across.