by Jamie Davis
“I don’t like how things turned south so fast here, too,” Winnie added. “It’s like someone injected the most radical elements of the community into an otherwise peaceful demonstration. Who would do such a thing? We don’t need to give the Red Legs more of a reason to fight against us. They have enough hatred for us as it is.”
“Have you talked with Victor or your sister?” Danny asked.
Winnie shook her head. “We’ve been trying to limit our contacts with each other. Victor has been afraid someone would put two and two together and link us to them. It’s important to keep them on the inside and above suspicion for as long as possible. Their input has been invaluable to help us avoid the investigators here in Baltimore.”
“Well, you might want to call him tonight,” Danny suggested.
“I will. Let’s go home. We need to see what the reporters on TV are saying.”
———
“The chanter radicals are clearly using their power to supplement their illegal demonstrations,” the man on the TV said.
Winnie read the graphic on the lower part of the screen — Atlanta. He kept up the running commentary while a video of a crowd throwing bricks and even Molotov cocktails towards the police riot line on the other side of the square played.
“Several brave officers have been wounded and the Chief Inspector for the Red Legs in Atlanta has called for every law-abiding middling citizen to stay inside with their doors and windows locked until the current emergency is resolved.”
“No, no, no,” Winnie muttered as she switched channels to another news feed. This one was a local Baltimore station.
“… The police and Red Legs just started to fire tear gas and what they are calling ‘other non-lethal munitions’ into the crowd. Many are trying to flee but others are clearly using their magic to prevent the police efforts from affecting them. I see what I can only describe as bubbles of clear air around small groups in the crowd, keeping the tear gas out.”
Winnie’s phone chirped and she looked down to see a message from Cait. She was with the leaders of the Baltimore demonstration. It read: “Trying to evacuate CBF leaders now. This is a major failure.”
Winnie sighed and put the phone down. There was no way to stop the demonstrations from turning into full-blown riots now. She had to make sure her people stayed clear and didn’t get caught up in the aftermath that was sure to follow.
“You should get out now. Get the CBF leaders home safely and meet me at my place.” she texted in reply.
Cait replied with a thumbs up emoji and Winnie put her phone down. She watched the TV some more, switching channels occasionally to check on other national feeds. The news was the same everywhere. All the demonstrations had devolved into rioting at one level or another. She feared what the response was going to be from the Assembly and the Red Legs.
CHAPTER 9
“Director Kane, this committee has received alarming reports that seem to implicate you and your department’s policies and actions as being at least partially responsible for the current shift in weather patterns and unrest in our cities. What do you have to say for yourself, sir?”
Nils Kane fixed his baleful stare on the assemblyman who had directed the question, carefully considering his response. He had known this oversight committee hearing would be difficult, but he hadn’t prepared for this particular question. His control and influence over the majority of the committee members usually prevented such unfortunate lines of questioning. It was a sign of how the current unrest was alarming everyone, a manifestation of how much he’d lost control of things since his original plans had been upset over a year before.
“With all due respect, Assemblyman Burke, I can’t comment on unsubstantiated and nonspecific claims leveled against me or my department. If you would care to share your sources or give me a specific incident to investigate, I can direct my Inspector General’s office to investigate the matter and bring a full report back to this committee.”
The portly man from the Atlanta district held up a pile of papers for the cameras, then set them down with an audible thump, knocking his nameplate awry. “These are the reports in question and they have all been sent to your IG’s office for review. None have received any response to date.”
The assemblyman picked up a single sheet from the top and held it up for all to see.
“This report dates from a year and half ago in Baltimore. It purports that the Red Legs rounded up over two hundred chanters from the Baltimore Enclave and took them to an undisclosed location where they were reported killed in some sort of explosion. Why has there been no reply to a year and a half’s worth of inquiries over this unfortunate incident, Director Kane?”
Nils throttled his sigh. It wouldn’t do to let the other committee members see him upset. The fool would have to dig up that particular failure on the part of Nil’s operations to present to the committee.
“I believe I can shed some light on this incident, Assemblyman,” Nils said with a serpent’s smile.
There was a stir among the other committee members. Assemblyman Burke seemed genuinely surprised. He pointed to Kane and then to his paper. “Please, Director, don’t keep us waiting. Tell us how such a thing could happen while these poor people were under your control.”
“We were hoping to gather the worst chanter dissidents in one place, separate them from their less dangerous brethren. It was our hope that we could calm things down, stop the dissidents from using their magic to disrupt the city’s infrastructure and triggering catastrophic failures like we saw in Boston.”
Kane paused to let the gathered lawmakers remember the horror of Boston’s near total destruction, along with the rescue and recovery efforts that had followed. He saw the memory reflected in their expressions and barely stifled his smile.
“Our error was in underestimating the chanters’ resolve. They were far more radical than we gave them credit for. While we could detain them, we couldn’t keep them from using their magic. A mass escape attempt killed many of my loyal Red Legs, but still they were unable to flee. A final desperate act from the surviving chanters caused a magical overload to destroy my entire detention facility. The chanters perished, too. But before they died, their actions caused the onset of the widespread storms that are still plaguing the nation. It is our belief that the Enclave’s dissident elements are still propagating this destructive magic — that’s why our loyal Sable techs are unable to keep the city infrastructure failures from continuing.”
Kane sat back in his chair and looked to the chairman. The thin, gray-bearded man leaned forward as Kane embed a suggestion in his mind to move the proceedings along. It had taken a long time to build his influence over the key committee members so that he could magically plant thoughts and questions in their minds without them ever becoming aware. It was an ability he’d developed over time, while experimenting on prisoners under his control. Long, painful hours of practice paid off at times like this.
“Thank you, Mr. Burke. I think Director Kane has answered that question to the committee’s satisfaction.”
“But, Mr. Chairman, I have — ”
“I said that is enough,” Chairman Palmer interrupted Burke. “We are all aware of your sentimental leanings towards the welfare of chanters. Unfortunately, their behavior during our current state of unrest has demonstrated where their allegiance lies. I commend Director Kane and his Red Legs for their dutiful service in trying to keep our cities safe from the subversive, dangerous elements hiding within the Enclaves.”
Nils thought that he’d nipped that line of questioning, but another dissenting voice rose from the committee. This one from a woman named Felicity Graves. She represented the St. Louis region and was known for her chanter sympathies.
“Mr. Chairman, I’d like to hear the Director’s recommendations for how we should handle the chanters if they’re indeed such a dangerous group. I’ve seen him present no evidence that his efforts at detention have shown any positive effects over the last y
ear. It’s only sown bad blood between chanters and middlings and increased the number of protests and strikes.”
Nils had tried over the years to generate influence over Assemblywoman Graves, as he had with the chairman, but she was a tough nut to crack. He could only plant the occasional light suggestion in her mind. She was incredibly resistant to his efforts, and that intrigued him. He longed to get both her and Assemblyman Burke into his experimental cells where he could finally exert his full will on them and see how long they lasted.
Perhaps someday.
“That is an excellent suggestion, Assemblywoman Graves,” the chairman said, to Nils’s surprise. “Director, perhaps you would like to share your plans for handling the chanter threat?”
Kane reached out with his sense of magical energy, trying to determine if someone else was attempting to influence the proceedings. It was unusual for the chairman to hit Kane with an unexpected question.
But Kane couldn’t see any magic other than his.
Could he have lost some of his control over the committee’s leaders? A dire situation and civilian unrest might be the cause, but he couldn’t rule out another influence. He would have to be careful.
“I believe our current efforts to root out the worst of the dissidents is fruitful and should continue.”
“Excuse me, Director,” the assemblywoman interrupted. “If that was the case, we’d see less unrest and breakdowns. But that isn’t what we’re seeing. We’re getting more demonstrations instead. More riots. More failures in the power, water, and other key infrastructures that threaten municipal operations. Explain your answer in light of this, please.”
Kane thought for a moment. He bit his lip to keep from smiling, thinking of something that might twist the woman toward his favor. “We’re employing several tactics, all worth continuing. Right now, we’re barely holding our society together. But I want to create a situation where we have no chanters within the city limits, at all. The Enclaves were a good idea at the time, because they managed to contain the threat. But those borders are collapsing, and we now must face a difficult decision.”
“And what is that decision, Director Kane?” the assemblywoman asked.
“I fear the time has come to separate chanters and middlings entirely. I also believe that the other government departments engaged in chanter-related activities would be poorly suited to managing the chanter threat as well as we have at the Department of Magical Containment.”
“So you don’t like the Magical Research Bureau’s suggestion to create camps in the barrens where chanters can live apart from the middlings?”
Perfect.
“Assemblywoman Graves. I think that is a terrible idea. Without the proper attention from our Red Leg investigators, I’d not like to think what type of warren for crime and corruption such camps would become.” He’d laid down the bait; now to set the hook. “Please, I beg you. Do not consider such an action.”
“Really, Director Kane?” Graves crooned as she leaned forward in her seat. “You don’t want anything to do with such a proposal? Perhaps that is recommendation enough for me to ask this committee to consider moving forward.”
Nils looked at the committee chairman, directing a subtle flow of magic toward him, focused on a single thought.
“That is an excellent idea, Graves,” the chairman said.
“It is?” the woman replied, perplexed by her adversary’s agreement.
“Yes, I think it’s an excellent proposal, and I’m glad you reminded me of the Bureau’s recommendation. This is an opportunity to finally get ahead of this chanter problem once and for all — don’t you agree, Director Kane?”
“Mr. Chairman, I would offer a more cautious approach,” Kane replied, maintaining his subtle pressure on the man’s mind.
“Nonsense. Assemblywoman Graves is correct in assuming your Red Legs are overtaxed, trying to track dissident factions across the country. It makes far more sense to separate chanters into manageable groups. Fewer locations where we can concentrate our efforts and contain the problem elements.”
“I would urge caution, Mr. Chairman. What about our techs?” Graves was clearly perplexed, probably concerned about the rapid action getting railroaded through the committee, ostensibly at her recommendation.
The chairman waved her off. “That can all be sorted out after the fact. Once we have all the chanters in one place, it will be easy to find those who are truly valuable to our continued welfare. In fact” — the chairman snapped his fingers — “we can use the Red Legs’ experience to our advantage here. They can gather the chanters and oversee management of the camps.”
Kane spoke into his mic. “Mr. Chairman, if I might offer a point of contention to this idea …”
“Director Kane, you should be thanking Assemblywoman Graves for her excellent solution. Now the chanter problem can be shared between your department and the Bureau of Magical Research. I’ll contact Director Margolis myself, tell her that we’re proceeding with her recommendation, and let her know that you’ll be her main contact. We will authorize the organization of these safety camps. Accelerate the timeline as you see fit. We want nothing else to threaten the safety of our cities.”
“As you wish, Mr. Chairman.” Kane finally allowed himself the smallest of smiles. If his plans continued to move in the right direction, he might be closer to getting her and others who could resist his control in the experimental chair sooner rather than later.
As he left the committee chamber, Nils pulled out his phone and tapped a text to Director Jane Margolis, telling her that she owed him a dinner at the capitol’s most expensive restaurant. He’d managed to pull off the impossible, despite her disbelief when he’d told her his plans. He’d managed to join their departments in a unified initiative, and with the committee’s full approval. She might even be happy enough with the result to enjoy a celebratory nightcap after dinner.
The plan was proceeding perfectly.
CHAPTER 10
Winnie sipped her wine and looked around the restaurant.
This was the kind of place she never would have set foot in a year and half before. Now, she had more than enough money to afford a place like this, and everyone knew she belonged. Even though she was a chanter at a time when chanters were looked at as troublemakers and dissidents by many, money and power made you glow. Winnie enjoyed the shine.
She smiled as Danny returned from the restroom. She’d fallen hard for this middling boy who had literally walked into her life a year and half ago. She loved his quirky smile and his handsome face.
Danny pulled out his phone and looked at the screen, then tapped something before returning it to his pocket. “Where were we?” He reached across the table and took her hand.
Winnie looked down at their braided fingers and gave him a squeeze. She smiled. “We were talking about taking a break, getting away for a few days. Just the two of us.”
“Ah, yes. I remember now. You wanted me to come up with a perfect romantic trip.” Danny paused, took a sip of his wine. “How about New Amsterdam? We could take in a couple of shows on the Broad Way, maybe stay in a decadent penthouse apartment with a view of the park. Not a bad way to spend a few days, and too much money.”
“That sounds lovely, Danny. I could use a break and it would be great to get away after everything. Recharge before we start concentrating on the Midwest and West Coast bosses.”
“That’s right. Everything will be here when we get back.” Danny checked his phone again, then dropped it into his pocket. He gave her a smile. “So, you’re pretty serious about this unified chanter leadership thing, aren’t you?”
“We’ve been over this. Especially in the aftermath of what happened with the riots, we have to organize even faster if we expect to fight whatever Nils Kane has in store for us next. We need a unified voice, and that means all of the bosses.”
“You’re so serious, Winnie. I bet you turn a trip to New Amsterdam into a working vacation with Cleaver. You need to re
lax, not work more.”
“Moi?” Winnie said in mock shock. “Why would I do that?”
“Because you get laser-focused on something and refuse to move from your target until you’ve nailed the bulls-eye. It’s infuriating. And endearing.”
They laughed themselves into a comfortable silence. Soon, the waiter brought their salads. Winnie took a bite, chewing while the recent plague of a thought bubbled to the surface. “There’s something else I want to look into when we get back.”
Danny looked up from his salad and cocked his head to one side.
“I still can’t help but think there are other chanters who can do what I do. It makes me wonder what else is possible. If I can clear the skies over an entire city for days, what could a two, or three, or an army of people like me do if given the chance?”
Winnie took another bite of salad and waited for Danny to answer. But she looked up and saw him holding his phone. Again.
Who was he texting? And why did he look so baffled every time he stowed the phone? She was finally about to ask, but Danny spoke instead. “What makes you so sure that there are people who can do what you can? I mean, you’ve seen no proof.”
“There has to be. Think about it. As magic wanes, we’ve seen more people come forward able stabilize it. Look at what Tris and her tech friends are doing to keep the cities from collapsing like Boston. It’s not the same as what I can do, but it’s also more than magic techs could do before she showed a few of them how to do it. Maybe I can teach others what I do. I have to believe that, Danny. Otherwise I’m all on my own.”
“But you’re not all alone. You have us. And you’re doing plenty. Maybe it’s like that dream you had with the strange lady who told you you were the queen or something. She seemed to think you could do it all on your own just fine.”
“Funny you remembered that. I’ve been thinking about she told me. Brigid said to ‘trust in my companions.’ I thought that you and Cait and Tris. Now, I think it means more.”