Spell Robbers

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Spell Robbers Page 5

by Matthew J. Kirby


  They entered into a hallway that felt a little like the Castle back at the university. Old. White walls, smoky wood trim.

  “Right this way, gentlemen,” Agent Taggart said.

  She led the way, while Agent Spear came behind them. They followed the hallway, turned a couple of corners, and stopped before another door.

  “This is the training room.” Agent Taggart pressed a button, and a loud buzzer sounded before she opened the door.

  They entered into a huge vaulted room. Areas of the floor had been sectioned off by partial walls of different materials. The nearest one was made of cinder block, and it bore blackened scorch marks and craters across its surface.

  The people inside, some of them as young as Ben and Peter, had stopped whatever they’d been doing and stared as Agent Taggart led them through the room. Some wore protective armor, like they were on a bomb squad. Others wore heavy padding that made them look puffy and stiff. The rest of the people either wore plain workout clothes, or suits like Agent Spear and Agent Taggart. Ben made eye contact with a girl who looked a few years older than him. She had long black hair, shiny and smooth as electrical tape, with a single lock dyed bright blue.

  When they reached the far side of the room, Agent Taggart spun around.

  “What kind of training are they doing?” Peter asked.

  “Watch,” Agent Taggart said. “It should look familiar to you.” She cupped her hand to her mouth. “Clear!”

  The room resumed motion. People took up positions. Ben felt something change in the air. Then fireballs flew. Ice. Lightning. Blasts of wind. The girl with the black-blue hair smirked at Ben before launching a baseball-sized rock from a pile into the air like a bullet. Ben glanced at Peter, whose wide eyes and open mouth looked how Ben felt. Actuation. This was an actuation training room.

  Except, Ben didn’t see any augmenting equipment. He looked around, along the walls, up into the heavy timber rafters that stretched across the ceiling. Nothing. It seemed that every person in that room was actuating on his or her own.

  Agent Taggart waited a moment longer, and then motioned for Ben and Peter to follow her through another door. Ben didn’t want to leave. Peter didn’t move, either. He just stared. But Agent Spear shepherded them forward, and they soon stood in a quiet hallway.

  “Quantum Agents,” Peter whispered. “Now it makes sense. But —”

  “Let’s finish this in the library.” Agent Spear took the lead again, and they followed him down a few more turns into a room that was smaller than the one they’d just been in, but larger than the room where they’d started. Empty wooden shelves lined the walls — was it still a library if it didn’t have any books? — and a couple of conference tables rested in the middle of the room, surrounded by high-backed wooden chairs. They each took a seat.

  “What is this place?” Ben asked.

  “It used to be a church,” Agent Spear said. “They were going to tear it down, but the League moved in before they could.”

  “So this is your headquarters?” Peter asked.

  “One of them,” Agent Taggart said. “The League is a global agency. We monitor quantum activity around the world and make sure groups like the Dread Cloaks don’t get too powerful or cause too much trouble. We stop them when we can.”

  Ben thought back to what the leader of the Dread Cloaks had done to the computer in Dr. Hughes’s lab. “Can they all … well, Dr. Hughes called it actuation?”

  Agent Taggart nodded. “That is the scientific term we use as well. Although, you may occasionally hear an older agent still calling it magic. But that’s usually as a joke. As for the Dread Cloaks, yes. Most of them can actuate, to varying degrees.”

  “Does the government know about them?” Ben asked. “Or, you guys?”

  “No,” Agent Spear said.

  “How is that possible?” Peter asked.

  “That’s the funny thing about actuation,” Agent Spear said. “Ennays have a hard time seeing it.”

  “Ennays?” Ben asked.

  “Non-Actuators,” Agent Taggart said. “N-A’s. Most people who cannot actuate don’t really perceive it. It is a part of reality they are blind to, just like you’re blind to infrared light. They see the aftermath of actuation, but they attribute it to other things. Freak storms. Freak accidents. Spontaneous combustion. That kind of thing.”

  “Another term for Ennays you might hear is Imps,” Agent Spear said. “Short for impotent. Powerless. But that’s an insult, so don’t go picking it up.”

  But Ben thought back to how Dr. Hughes had trained them. “If Dr. Hughes is an Ennay, how does she see it?”

  “Her equipment allows her to perceive it,” Agent Taggart said. “Like you wearing infrared goggles.”

  “Which brings us back to the attack,” Agent Spear said. “Poole is in charge of the Dread Cloaks, and for him to personally head up an operation means there was something very important in that lab. And with Dr. Hughes.”

  Agent Spear scratched absently with a fingernail at the deep grain of the table. “You boys know what that might be?”

  “They wanted her portable augmenter,” Peter said.

  “Portable?” Agent Taggart’s voice turned sharp. “Was it functional?”

  “I don’t know, I didn’t …” Peter turned to Ben.

  So did both agents.

  Ben leaned back. “I used it. It worked … kind of. But Dr. Hughes said it wasn’t reliable. I think that’s why Poole took her.”

  “You’re certain it worked?” Agent Taggart asked.

  “Yeah.”

  She whipped out her phone, stabbed at the screen, and as she got up she lifted it to her ear. “This is Taggart. Put me through to Mr. Weathersky.” She left the room.

  Ben was confused. “What’s the big —”

  “Augmentation can be extremely dangerous,” Agent Spear said. “The one thing that’s kept us all safe from it is that it’s theoretically impossible to make the technology mobile. Until now, apparently.”

  That didn’t make sense. Augmentation was a crutch. No one in that training room had seemed to need it. “Why would it be dangerous?” Ben asked.

  Agent Spear’s forehead wrinkled. “I can see Dr. Hughes got a few things wrong with you boys. So let me break this down for you. Actuation is not about the technology. It’s about you, the Actuator, and it has limits. You can only get so big before the whole thing falls apart in your mind. You’ve got your Class One actuations. Those would be, say, moving small objects. Then you’ve got your Class Two actuations, the most common. That’s what you saw in the training room. Or like what Poole did to escape, when he triggered that explosion in the gas line. Class Three actuations are much bigger, extremely difficult, and rarely attempted.”

  “Like what?” Peter asked.

  “A Class Three is a Class Two on a larger scale. It affects a whole system. Instead of a little Class Two cloud, you get a full storm, maybe even a tornado or hurricane. Change the weather.”

  “Is there a Class Four?” Peter asked.

  Agent Spear chuckled. “Theoretically, there are Class Four and even Class Five actuations. But they only work on paper, not in real life. No one in recorded history has brought one about.”

  “What would those even be?” Ben asked.

  “A Class Four? Maybe an earthquake. A Class Five? I can’t even imagine. The point is, most Actuators can only accomplish Class One and Two. Very, very few can hit a Three. Without augmentation.”

  Now it was starting to make sense to Ben. Poole had wanted the augmenter because it had the potential to make him even more powerful. And while the stationary laboratory imposed limits on what could be actuated, portability made the technology a formidable weapon.

  “So what happens now?” Ben asked.

  “Now?” Agent Spear looked back and forth between Ben and Peter. “Now is the part where I ask you boys to join the Quantum League.”

  BEN knew he had seen people not much older than him in the training roo
m, but still. Joining the Quantum League? “Um. I’m twelve.”

  “I’ll be thirteen next month,” Peter said.

  “You’re both in the target range,” Agent Spear said. “Ideal recruitment age is between eight and fourteen. But we usually don’t go as young as eight. Beyond fourteen, you start to think you know what’s going on in the world, and it just gets worse with age.”

  “But you’re an adult,” Ben said.

  Agent Spear aimed a crooked smile at the table. “I joined when I was ten. I believe Agent Taggart was thirteen. That’s the way it works.”

  “What about your parents?” Peter asked. “They must have —”

  “Got along just fine without me.” Agent Spear’s voice turned suddenly curt. “As will yours.”

  Ben did not like how that sounded. His body went cold, and the disorientation returned. “I’d like to call my mom now.”

  Agent Spear didn’t respond.

  Ben raised his voice. “You said I could call my mom!”

  Agent Spear sighed. “If you look back at my words carefully, I think you’ll find I said no such thing.”

  Ben felt a panic rising he couldn’t control. “I don’t care. Let me call my mom. Now!”

  The warmth returned to the agent’s voice. “Calm down, son. You need to listen to me carefully. What I’m about to tell you will be hard, but I promise you’ll get through it. Every agent has gone through the same process. It’s just the way of things.”

  Ben stood. “I’m not listening anymore. I’m leaving.”

  Peter grabbed his arm. “Ben, don’t.”

  Ben looked down at his friend. Somehow, Peter didn’t seem bothered by any of this. In fact, he looked excited.

  “Just hear him out,” Peter said. “Before you walk away.”

  Ben snatched his arm free. “But this is kidnapping.”

  “You have not been kidnapped,” Agent Spear said. “You are free to leave if you so choose. But you do need to hear me out first.”

  “No, I don’t.” Ben went for the door. “I’m leaving now.”

  “She won’t know you.”

  Ben stopped. He turned around. Agent Spear had risen to his feet.

  “What?”

  “She won’t know you.”

  Ben swallowed. “What do you mean?”

  “Please, come sit down.”

  “TELL ME WHAT YOU MEAN!” Ben held both his hands in fists.

  Agent Spear’s voice remained calm, his face gentle. “You have been detached, Ben. So have you, Peter.”

  “What does that mean?” Peter remained in his chair.

  “It means that the previous connections to your lives have been severed. For your families, your teachers, your friends, it will be like you never existed.”

  Ben’s stomach felt like it was grinding up ice cubes, and a smothering dread settled over him. He couldn’t find any words. He couldn’t breathe.

  Agent Spear continued. “We performed the procedure while you were unconscious in the holding room. Believe me when I say it was absolutely necessary.”

  “Why?” Peter asked.

  Ben couldn’t understand how his friend was dealing with this so calmly.

  “To be blunt,” Agent Spear said, “because you’re kids. Very few parents would just up and agree to let their kids go. This is the easiest way for you, and for them.”

  But Ben didn’t really care about himself. What would his mom do without him? She needed him. Who would help her? Who would remind her to take her pills? He felt tears rising, a tightening in his throat, but he coughed and kept it under control. Now was not the time to lose it.

  “I don’t want to be an agent,” Ben said. “Put me back. Re … reattach me.”

  The door opened behind him, and Agent Taggart came back into the room. She saw Ben, looked past him to Agent Spear, and nodded. “Ah. You told them.”

  “Reattach me,” Ben said to both of them.

  “I’m afraid we can’t do that.” Agent Taggart held up her phone. “Mr. Weathersky is on his way.”

  “He’s coming here?” Agent Spear asked.

  “Yes. And until this matter is resolved, he feels that we may have further need of you gentlemen.” She looked down at Ben. “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice. This is no longer an invitation to join the League. You’ve been drafted.”

  Ben narrowed his eyes at her. “I don’t think so. You can’t do this.” He pushed past her out the door.

  “Ben!” Peter shouted.

  “Let him go,” Agent Spear said. “He needs to …”

  But Ben didn’t stick around to hear the rest. He started down the hallway, took a turn, then another. This place used to be a church, not a maze. He had to find a way out, eventually. And soon, he did. It was an emergency exit, with one of those big red alarm levers. Ben didn’t care. He shouldered it open, hard, and took the cement staircase outside three steps down at a time, while a siren blared behind him. He looked back up at the building. It really had been a church, with white siding and a single square steeple.

  It had also quit raining. Ben looked down the street, saw a bus approaching a stop, and took off running toward it.

  “Mom!” He raced toward her office. He knew her schedule; she wasn’t in class right now, so hopefully, he’d find her there. She would remember him. She had to remember him. He knocked on the door, and then opened it. “Mom?”

  She swiveled around from her computer to face him. He looked in her eyes. She looked back, and he could see it. Clearly. She didn’t know him.

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  This wasn’t possible. This could not be happening. He hadn’t believed Agent Spear when he’d said she wouldn’t know him. But now that he’d seen it for himself, it felt like something had broken loose inside him, something jagged and sharp, migrating around in his chest. He couldn’t help it, he started crying.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry.” She got up and came over to him. “Here, what is it, who are you looking for? Let me help you find them.”

  He shook his head. He swiped at his tears with his sleeve and got himself back under control, even though the pain was still slicing through him. “I’m okay,” he said. “I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure?” She looked at the bandage on his head. “What happened to you?”

  It was her. Her eyes. Her nose. Her smile. But he wasn’t him, not to her.

  “It’s nothing. I’m fine,” he said. “Ha-have we ever met before?”

  “Hmm. I don’t think so. Is your mother another teaching assistant? Or a professor?”

  “Teaching assistant. But I think I got the wrong office.”

  “Do you want me to help you find her?”

  “No.” He pulled away. And that hurt, too. “No, I’ll just call her.”

  “All right. But come back if you can’t find her.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  “Wait. Before you go, what’s your name?”

  “Ben,” he said, his own name catching in his throat.

  “And what’s your mom’s name?”

  He hesitated. “Heather.”

  “Really?” She smiled. “What a coincidence! That’s my name. If she works in this building, maybe I’ll run into her sometime.”

  “Maybe you will,” Ben said.

  He left, and he could feel her watching him stumble down the hallway. Once he reached the elevator, she gave him a little wave and went back into her office. He pushed the down button, and ended up on the first floor without even remembering the elevator ride. Maybe she just needed time. Time to recover from whatever they’d done to her. To him.

  Outside on the street, he turned toward home. He’d go and wait there, and see how she reacted when she saw him in their apartment. She’d either be normal about it, or he’d really freak her out. Either way, he had to try.

  He passed a campus newspaper someone had left on a bench, and the cover headline caught his eye. It was a story about a gas explosion in the basement of the Castle.
No one was hurt, the article explained, but the building was old, and discussions were under way about whether to tear it down or renovate it. The article also mentioned that Professor Madeleine Hughes of the Physics Department, whose lab was at the epicenter of the blast, had been missing since the accident, but that she was not believed to have been present at the time. No mention of him or Peter.

  Ben threw the paper in the trash and kept walking.

  He reached their apartment a short while later, but found Agent Spear leaning against the door like a tree.

  “What are you doing here?” Ben shoved past him to get to the lock. “I could call the cops.”

  Agent Spear stepped aside. “You could. But that won’t end well for anyone, including you. How will you feel when your mom denies you’re her son to the police? What’ll happen to you then? The cops will take you, they won’t be able to find your parents, and you’ll go into the foster system.”

  Ben pressed his forehead against the door. “This is insane.” He squeezed his eyes shut, and punched the door hard. “Why are you doing this to me? She needs me!”

  “Not anymore, son.” Agent Spear put a hand on Ben’s back. “She never knew you.”

  “But she’s here.” He thrashed the agent’s hand away. “If she never knew me, how come she’s still here and everything is the same?”

  “Detachment doesn’t undo cause and effect. It just breaks the connection of her consciousness and yours.”

  “But I remember her.”

  “And you always will, I’m afraid.”

  Ben clenched his jaw. The pain was still there. He wanted to scream. “Just give me my life back. Please.”

  “Okay.”

  Okay?

  Ben turned to Agent Spear.

  “These are special circumstances,” the man said. “And we need you. You’re the only one who’s used the portable augmenter. You help us recover it, and we’ll restore your life.” He extended a hand. “Deal?”

  “Restore it now, and then I’ll help you.”

  Agent Spear shook his head. “Afraid I can’t do that. This mission might take days or even weeks. We can’t have your mom going stir-crazy missing you and looking for you that whole time.” He still held out his hand. “You don’t want to cause her that pain, do you?”

 

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