by Kit Falbo
I wake to Tess buzzing in my ear. “Wake up. Wake up. You have that class you want to audit.” I detach myself from Lily's sleeping fom and put on my clothes. It’s my turn to leave a note.
The class I'm going to audit is a graduate-level art history class about the life and death of Maestro Mannis. I’ve had Belle and Tess, in their free time gathering data on the deaths of performers. There is some logic to magic users having the most deaths. One defensive mistake, tech failure, or even just a wrong decimal point on a force calculation can be fatal. That’s one reason we have our UI babysitters and all the other rules and regulations of the Association of Magic Users. The highest suicide rate, fine. Highest stroke, cancer, and flu deaths, well something is off. Looking at the macro is overwhelming; this class will let me look at it on the micro scale.
I’m not signed up for the class. I figure I’m not here just as a student and sneak Tess in with me. The UI restrictions are there mostly to stop potential cheating, and I’m not planning on taking any tests or writing any papers for this class. It’s a small class, and maybe thirty students are here. I sit in the back and with a few tweaks change my blue hair to an unassuming brown to match most of the class. They are all closer to my age anyway since I entered college as a twenty-three-year-old first year.
The professor is five minutes late, and no one seems shocked by this. I catch the back of his head as he rushes to the board at the front, short, old, with wispy white hair. He writes his name with his finger in thick hovering letters. Prof. Maskawitz. He looks to the class, thick gray eyebrows like dancing like sizzling sausages. “Sorry about being late everyone.” He says with a smile.
Something about him clicks into place. “Mouse.” I whisper, one of the three old men from the ZarZura club. I know most of the professors are AMU members but it never clicked that I would run into one at the private club.
“We’ve looked at how Maestro Mannis’s work, code, and techniques have bled into almost every bit of modern performances and techniques. Today we have a special treat. We get to look at both the good and the bad of fan interactions he faced. His family has unearthed a treasure trove of old messages and video they donated to the university archives just last week. I know you are all looking forward to making your own runs as members of the AMU, but it is not just the fame but the dark side of the business you should understand.“
I was hoping they would look at how he died. My UIs always handle all my fan mail. Though with Joontal made inactive all the messages to the official account bounce back. I suppose it will be the AMU reps job now to handle it since they are hunting for whoever targeted me. Classic death threats projected before us, even one that used letters cut out from archaic paper magazines. I had my a weirdo bouncing messages to me through interstellar.
There are even video clips in the records we are looking at. I can’t help but cringe at a pissed off pimply teenager threatening the man's pets. The next video starts up, and I watch a slightly blocky image of a man in red robes and a halo of stars around his head wiggling, tied to a wooden stake. Maestro Mannis, I presume. The stake bursts into flames and the clothes and flesh start to melt off the man in a horrific display. My stomach clenches. “Tess, you seeing this?”
“What, you watching clips in this class?”
“The video of the man tied to the stake, it is the same as the one I received. You know from that guy who spent months threatening Joontal that we could never trace.”
“I can see how maybe you would think that. It’s totally different. Could be a copycat, or just a coincidence. Like looking at a painting of the same scene done by two different painters. It may look the same to an untrained eye, but they are completely different.”
“Pull up the one sent to me and put it next to the one I just saw.”
Tess lets out a long sigh of disapproval but does what I ask. I watch them paired up. The image of Maestro Mannis on the left and Wizard Joontal on the right, both tied to stakes. They both struggle in slightly different ways. The fire starts, and there is maybe a half-second difference between them. The horror and agony in their eyes look exactly the same, as their flesh melts off of them. “This is the same, Tess.”
“You remind me how much smarter than you I am often. Looking at and analyzing data is what I am made to do. No matter what you think, the clips are not the same Talos. Your squishy little bit of gray matter is playing a trick on you.”
I hate it when she gets patronizing. “Belle, look at those and give me your opinion.”
“It’s not the original file, but the analysis from Tess is plenty complete. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll give it a thorough looking at.” I bring my attention back to the class.
Mouse or Professor Maskawitz if you prefer addresses the class. “It will be common to receive disturbing and antagonistic messages. One of the main reasons UIs were invented was to deal with and facilitate handling these types of communications. People used to handle influxes of messages and media on their own. The majority of threatening and disturbing messages can be forwarded on to records and investigating organizations to deal with, while others will be disturbingly difficult to follow up on. Don’t fall into the paranoia trap that Maestro Mannis fell into.”
I know the story is that he blew himself up setting up an extra layer of defense. I’m not feeling particularly un-paranoid right now. “Finished my analysis.” Bell announces.
“Ok, what’s your opinion?” I subvocalize.
“You know how I loathe agreeing with Tess on much. But in this case, she is absolutely correct. Those two videos are entirely different.”
That’s settled then. Two minds with processing powers well above mine have assured me that what is plainly in front of me is not correct. “Bullshit.” I mutter under my breath, and for the first time in my life, I find myself genuinely doubting UIs, including the one that raised me.
I’m thankful that I chose to sit in the back of the class because it allows me to duck out when Mouse’s head turns. I need to know that it’s not just me. I’m back at my house, panting because I pressed the limits of speed getting back. Lily is hooking her bra back on. “You ok?” she says with a little worry in her voice.
“I’m just…” I find myself fumbling, a loss for words. “Tess put those clips up side by side again on the house screen.”
“You’re just going to put yourself into a depressive tizzy again. Maybe do another conspiracy wall. Eat another twelve pints of ice cream.”
“Activate, quiet woman.” I subvocalize. Tess’s rant turns into beeps and whistles.
“What is she talking about?” Lily asks looking confused.
“I may get a little obsessive.” Lily snorts at this. “I locked myself in a hotel room for two weeks after the incident where I got shot, lost my job, and my character. I kept on trying to figure out why it had happened. I indulged my urges and made a research wall with things like it being a plot out of the frat that Igni Furnis went to at MAGI college. It was nuts and well still seems unlikely. I think I have something real now though. Tess put up the clips.”
She lets out a long whistle. I figure a fuck you, and the clips do appear. Lily watches them play. The faces start to melt. “Ewww, gross!” She exclaims.
“They look the same right?”
She pauses thinking. “I guess they do.” I think she can see my frustration at her lack of certainty. “Yes to me they do. Booker tells me they aren't”
“Tess and Belle tell me they are different as well. Unintentional plagiarism or someone chose to copy this format.”
“I can see that too, I guess. They’re UI, they would know better than us anyway.”
“That’s the thing. They should know better than us. But looking at the clips, I can’t see it. UIs are terrible at making gambles, understanding relationships, accepting that the wrong decision might be right for the person. If I listened to Tess, I never would have applied to the job at Lowmans. Then where would we be today? I know this isn’t the same, but my
gut tells me something here is off.”
Lily stares at me like I’m a particularly hard math problem or interesting bug. “Talos, you’re weird, brilliant, unorthodox, and I’ll admit a little bit crazy. You spent five years as an old man, sometimes literally putting me through hell.” I did do that, make it seem like she had messed up and been teleported to a demonic dimension. “I swear to god that multiple times after you revealed to me that you were that wizard Joontal, that I was going to hit you so hard. Instead, I did what I did, and I’m glad for that. You’re not wrong, but any sane person would listen to their UI. I’m here for your craziness, but you owe me. We’re doing Mistress Mink.”
Chapter Sixteen
I don’t put my investigation on hold as much as I plan it out some and dedicate myself to training Lily. Lily issues the challenge, and her fans go wild when Mistress Mink accepts, with some stipulations. “Did you really have to promise me as a prize to her?”
“She wouldn’t have accepted it otherwise. You’re both flexible morally and otherwise so you can live up to that end of the bargain.“ I’m not, and I did check on the Mink private videos, they are a little bit extreme. Lily took my agreement to help as an agreement to do that maybe.
“I did tell you there is an excellent chance we’ll lose here. You saying that it won’t bother you if I do go along with her for an evening?”
“I’ll spend the next several years nagging you about robbing the grave so to speak. But your dignity is something I am willing to sacrifice for a chance to get her. Also, think of it as extra motivation to help me win.” She gives me a cheeky smile.
There are lots of matches to review. I miss Muninn. He was best at looking for weaknesses, maybe a throwback to his military origins. Thinking of my former UI causes a little spark of anger in me. For Mistress Mink, it’s twenty years of battles looking flawless with brutal power and beauty. There is one advantage in Lily having no tape for Mistress Mink to go off of, as I know with Mr. Magnitines it’s hard to plan for what you don’t know. How to win though? You can’t even tell the matches from ten years ago to last years, and she’s kept her alluring look just the same.
I look at Lily, who is practicing trading blows with Booker, who is riding a dummy and simulating Mink. The match that Mistress Mink had selected is akin to boxing, a straight up battle of trading blows while the AMU observer records points and eventually declares a winner for the big finish. Booker's mannequin form has little streaks of blue from light hits and one good dark purple splotch from the one solid hit Lily had managed to make. Lily is sweating and covered in pink splashes for light strikes and peppered with the solid red splotches from the solid blows booker has delivered to her. This is why I never challenge anyone. They pick a game that goes to their strengths. In the match, you get to mark your opponents in similar ways, frozen bits, scorch marks, whatever goes with the style of attacks you are throwing, as long as it is incidental and doesn’t obscure their view.
I have seen the taped evidence of Mistress Mink handling them like a champ. Thin cuts, burns, though black boils seemed to piss her off, and she used an option to clear them while her opponent was reeling from a heavy blow. Of all the Magic battles, this is a hard match to get a tech advantage in, which is my usual route. I wince as a huge red splash of color covers half Lily’s face. The odds are excellent that in a few days I will be at Mistress Minks disposal from nine to midnight on the day of her choice. She may look my age, but I know she’s old enough to be my mom and that gives me a little bit of the heebie-jeebies.
I get a no good, terrible, awful idea in my head. “Lily I have an idea that might work, but either way win or lose, it will make Mistress Mink your enemy for the rest of your life.” Which means if Lily does lose, I will probably be the one paying for it at least initially.
She waves Booker off and walks over. “Tell me more?” She asks with a wicked little smile.
Trembley Grove is one of the half a dozen areas outside of the school where Magic Battles could be held. The school has four on campus for students to practice and try out. The match is an AMU member battle, so it is being held off the school grounds. A small crowd of fans gathers in designated areas. They even have signs. LL for life and Mink is my Mistress, are just some of them. Not a problem for my battles, Lily at least seems to enjoy the attention, even going over and signing one of the signs.
Between school work, training, and my conspiracy theories I’ve only managed to schedule a handful of performances in my persona. One was even a birthday where I spent half the time on fire. Mistress Mink in a sheer blue fairy dress, complete with working blue fairy wings and holding the wand she will use for the battle. She gives me a little wave along with a blown kiss, shaking me out of my distractions. I think I’m more nervous than Lily, which makes sense because I guess it is my rear end on the line. I’d tastelessly done more research on what I might be looking forward too if we lose. I feel sore just thinking about it.
I go over to Lily as she finishes up with a fan and whisper into her ear. “You’d better win this.”
“It’s your plan. Booker says I’ve been making great strides in my practice. Oh, it’s about to begin.”
I subvocalize to Tess. “Has she beaten Booker yet?”
“Nope.” she says surly like. She’s been sulking ever since I silenced her and questioned her integrity on the stake burning matter. When UIs are not acting like your parents, they’re acting like your children.
“Competitors approach!” The voice booms across the grove. A large lion sits in the middle. It’s the association UI, the judge, arbiter, referee, stopping the match if it needs to be and declaring a winner when it is time. Lily is in black lace and sequins, both dark and sparkling at the same time. She gives Mink her wicked smirk as they approach the lion. The look Mink returns is a benevolent, confident smile. They present themselves to the UI who will scan both sets of fighting gear. They should be identical in practice, a defensive glove with an individual shield and a wand that directs and sends your choice of seven different blows towards your opponent. Only the outward appearance and visual effects of the attacks and marks they leave behind are customizable for each player. It’s a magical fencing match where skill, wits, and experience are primary. Outside of the final victory display, all special effects are limited, no blinding or obscuring your opponent. If I was doing it, I couldn’t even pretend to blow off one of my legs as my current character. “Acceptable. Take your places.” The lion roars after a few moments.
Lily takes up a defensive stance. It’s the kind of tactic you take against a complete amateur, hoping they’ll overextend themselves and you can take advantage of a mistake. It’s not generally a winning tactic, and against someone with the amount of experience and skill Mistress Mink has, all you are doing is extending your pain. On the highest setting, getting hit is like having a good strong punch hit you, even taking a winging blow stings. You would be better off going wild and crazy hoping to get a few good hits in before you’re knocked silly ending the match. “Begin.” The lion roars.
Mistress Mink flicks her wand, and a green fireball soars towards her opponent. Lily blocks it with her left wrist, and even though it is a successful block, a small thin green line appears on her arm. Blocks and near misses leave small marks, and only direct hits tend to create compelling visual effects. Lily gives two quick flicks back, and Two tiny red sparks fly out. It’s the lowest setting, quick and fast on the attack. Even a direct hit wouldn’t be felt much more than a small knock from a blow. Mink shows her skill blocking both with a flourish.
They trade blows. Lily winces as one gets her shoulder leaving green claw marks there. She continues to rain light, almost ineffective blows back. The thing is, we know that there is no way Lily can beat Mink unless Mink threw the match. The UIs ran the numbers and Bookers physical lessons drove the point home. The only way to win is to have Mistress Mink defeat herself.
While Lily wears green marks, the blows she leaves behind are much mo
re subtle. Almost like she is making a terrible mistake and having no effects on her attacks, but that isn’t the case. It is a gray hair here, a wrinkle there, maybe an age spot. Even a successfully blocked attack leaves some effect. Slowly Mistress Mink is starting to age before everyone's eyes. Now there is a taunt move where you can ‘heal’ yourself and remove the visible damage. It takes time and is challenging to finish, even after landing the most savage blows.
Despite being close to her fifties, Mistress Mink has always focused on looking young, fit, and active. Watching the way she fights, and the clips I researched, I know she’s healthy and active. What I’m betting on is the very human fear of getting old. When I was Joontal, in his ancient glory, I could see the fear in peoples eyes of becoming old, wrinkly, unwanted. As focused on the match as she is, I know she will check to see how she’s looking. It’s a mistake of vanity that even I have been known to do.
Mink’s eyes widen on her expressive face, and Lily uses the moment of distraction to send a stronger blow her way. It’s worse when it does hit because it looks like Mink’s arm shrivels up and becomes covers in age spots. The forceful blow that is sent in reply leaves Lily gasping and looking like a dripping green gash is in her side.
I inhale a breath when I see Mink make her all too human mistake of trying to remove the visual effects. If she has her UI at least advising her, it would be telling her not to do it. I’d spent hours coaching Lily to watch for this, knowing it is the one way she could win. Two bright red stars, the strongest of options, soar out. Easily blockable if Mink wasn’t trying to fix her situation. They hit her hard, and she goes sprawling to the ground.
It’s a victory. The next hardest thing had been convincing Lily on the victory display if she won. With this kind of attacks that she’s been throwing, it would be most thematically appropriate to have a wasting disease crawl across the land, turning Mink and it into a shriveled husk. Lily and Mink will probably never be friends, but it is another story to turn twenty-five years of business connections and contacts against you. In victory, Lily transforms.