Pensey Hayes. Lunday, Capricorn 11th. 2354 AA. 10:30 AM. Arroyo Athenaeum (Lecture Hall Three).
“Alright, I believe that’s enough for today. You all have your tasks. See that they are completed before you head off to Christmas. We have a tight deadline.”
Master Jahnas Steinbeck dismissed his army of senior students and fellow masters assigned to the Zenith Project. Most trickled out quickly, busy with early holiday obligations. But as Pensey started gathering her belongings, her mentor barked at her:
“Hayes. A moment.”
Pensey had expected as much and zipped her bag back up.
“Yes, Master Steinbeck?”
“Explain your proposal.”
Wow. That’s surprising. She assumed her master would shoot down her suggestion before she had a chance to walk him through it. But my hunches have been right enough that he’s finally willing to give me the benefit of the doubt. And they say old dogs can’t learn new tricks. Even Lewin Carroll seemed impressed, as he sat back down.
Steinbeck frowned at Pensey.
“You haven’t persuaded me of anything yet. Try not to look so damn smug.”
“Drosia Exatmisi,” Pensey said. “It’s a passage that concerns mental erasure. More specifically, it includes code for a runic contract that instructs the mind to behave like it is purging information after waking from a dream.”
“‘Like dew evaporating in the dawn,’ yes, I am familiar with it. It also violates the faculties of mind. Highly illegal magic. Even for amagia.”
He crossed his arms with a cocky smile and leaned against his lecture podium. I’m not hearing a ‘no’ though.
“What if we use it to clear any harmful supplementary information that could be included in Zenith’s updates?” Pensey asked. “It could be our failsafe. If we work Drosia into the foundation of the license firmcode itself, it won’t matter if somebody includes malicious code in the license updates. The license itself will tell wearers to specifically disregard the information before it can influence them.”
Steinbeck didn’t apologize for his seeming hostility. He didn’t even concede that she was onto something. But I know that look. The flash of interest. He’s connecting the dots I’ve drawn for him. Looks like I win again, Master!
And with that victory, Pensey was confident that she had solved the last major hurdle between her and her thesis project. Zenith was originally the brain child of Master Steinbeck, entailing a runic code overhaul that would revolutionize the Amagium’s approach to license updates. Rather than requiring asfalis magic users to report to lexiclaves in person on a quarterly basis, Zenith would use lexiclaves to remotely broadcast changes to the master magic licensing code.
When Pensey independently came up with the similar concept for her thesis project, she shared it with Lewin Carroll. Carroll, in turn, brought her preliminary concept work to Steinbeck, who had been working on the project on a theoretical level for decades. And at some urging from Carroll, he decided to make their shared dream into a reality. Steinbeck tapped Carroll—who had acquired too many disciplines to count—and Jallista Grisham, the Arroyo Athenaeum’s master of runic coding, as his co-creators. He also handpicked a number of senior students to assist on the project for thesis credit.
If all went well, they would be launching the system next summer, on the solstice. I will start my amagiate career by revolutionizing the way licenses work.
“Remote imprinting cannot work with an absolute defense. There is no way to simultaneously allow firmcode access, and protect the user’s wyrd from indirect tampering. But if we use Drosia Exatmisi like a bezoar, the licenses will immediately instruct the user’s mind to pre-emptively purge any non-native information. Also, since we aren’t using Drosia on any existing knowledge within the wearers’ minds, we aren’t violating the Triad of Mind.”
Carroll’s eyes sparkled and he chuckled.
“I think she’s solved it, Jahn,” Carroll said awed.
“Yes,” Steinbeck said after a long pause. “Yes, that could work as a failsafe. You’ll need to draw up a proposal for thorough and ethically sound testing regimen—before Christmas break, please. And we need to incorporate your theories into the encryption protocol as our first line of defense against tampering…”
That was it. I solve a twenty-five-year-old problem, and we’re already onto the next bit. Pensey had to stifle a giggle. Steinbeck had never been one for effusive praise, but she expected a little more in the way of enthusiasm. But she actually appreciated that about him. The compulsive eagerness to jump from one solution to the next problems in the chain. He was peerlessly pragmatic.
“I think Miss Hayes will have enough on her plate simply wrestling with Drosia,” Carroll said. “Let me handle the proposal and worry about encryption integration.”
Steinbeck shot Carroll a glance, considering it, then shook his head.
“You can assist Miss Hayes with the proposal, but leave the encryption protocol to Senice Cole. It is vital that we can spread familiarity as broadly as possible among the new generation of leximancers. If we are going to make history, we will need advocates. Leaders. People who can oversee this process at other athenaeums.”
“Yes, sir,” Pensey said with a smile.
Beneath his perennial prickly exterior, Steinbeck wanted the best for his students. He understood his own thinking—and even Carroll’s thinking—needed a fresh perspective. He also never missed an opportunity to challenge his mentees. Not all of his trials were fair, or even reasonable. But Senice is up to the task. And so am I.
Carroll shot Pensey an excited glance.
“Five short months, Jahn. Five months and we are all going to make history.”
“Woo!” Pensey said, throwing a fist in the air.
“We haven’t done it yet, Hayes,” Steinbeck chided. “How fares your progress on cross-referencing the broadcast code?”
Pensey immediately deflated. It was easily her most tedious responsibility in the project, and simply thinking about it made her want to cry. Essentially, she had to check everybody else’s work on the project and make sure it all fit together properly. She also had to pester them for updates regularly. On top of being a leximancer and runic coder, she had become something of a de facto project manager.
I haven’t slept more than five hours in a stretch for the past two weeks. I miss Hace. And it feels like I haven’t seen Lin in months.
“You seem tired,” Steinbeck observed. “Is Matthews interfering with your work?”
“Not nearly as much as I would like,” Pensey said dourly, before she could stop herself.
Carroll let loose a belly laugh while Steinbeck immediately pinkened and groped for words.
“It seems he’s been an undesirable influence on you regardless. You’ll have plenty of time for frivolity come Venday. Until then, hop to it.”
“Yes, Master Steinbeck,” Pensey said in a singsong voice she knew he couldn’t stand.
As Pensey exited the room, she heard Steinbeck mutter to Carroll testily:
“I bet you don’t broach that sort of sass from Valmont.”
This time Carroll roared with laughter.
— Fera Fitzgerald | 12:00 PM. Arroyo Athenaeum (Southern Parking Lot) –
Fitz watched as Hace got reacquainted with Sev’s motorcycle, one lurch and tire screech at a time. Sev winced as he watched. After their excursion into the Faed, Hace received permission to practice on the vehicle in brief stints. Normally, it was strictly illegal for akrasiacs to pilot any kind of vehicle more advanced than a bicycle, for obvious reasons. If you phase out of reality in the driver’s seat, your car will continue along its merry way without you.
Unless Hace is right, that is.
“What are the odds my bike survives this?” Sevardin asked wearily.
“I give it better odds than you gave us in the Stonewrought Forest,” Fitz said sharply.
Sev held up his hands in surrender. When she said she was calling in her favor, she had warned him that he wouldn’t like it. To his credit, he agreed to loan Hace his bike without complaint. But after Fitz further explained that it was for Hace’s thesis experiment, and that his bike may not survive the process, he was considerably less enthusiastic. She had insisted, pointing out they had both risked their lives—and suffered serious dental trauma—so his fool’s errand could bear fruit.
At first, she worried that jeopardizing the last thing this man loved would be going too far. But she realized that the opportunity to be useful to somebody was the most valuable gift she could give him at the moment. Sevardin had to be feeling powerless. Frustrated at the very least. And he feels guilty about putting us in danger. Giving him the opportunity to repay that debt in earnest is the best thing I can do for his state of mind right now.
Hace slowly wheeled the bike towards Fitz and Sevardin.
“Okay. I think I’m ready for the real thing.”
Sev held up a hand and asked nervously:
“Now, what is your theory again? Like, I don’t expect to understand the specifics of your research, but in broad strokes…”
“I’m testing an extension of what we already know about a pre-existing principle: akratic self-transitive projection. When we go into the Faed, we bring our clothes and any objects that we are holding along with us. That’s because we project our selfhood onto those things. They become extensions of our bodies.”
“And you really think you can extend that to a whole-ass vehicle?”
Hace tilted his head to the side and pursed his lips.
“Yeah, I do. It’s simpler than bringing a person along with you, honestly. Preserving artifice functionality would be very hard though, so a mechanical bike like yours is literally the perfect trial vehicle. I’ve already made it work with a bicycle.”
“Well, that’s good. But can’t we try this from a stationary position?” Sev asked wincingly.
“We will. But it’s bound to be harder,” Fitz said.
“Think of it like sitting on a bike versus riding a bike,” Hace explained. “When you are in motion, you have a better sense of the thing’s mass and movement in relation to your body. It is more of an extension.”
“Hace will also be trying to emerge on a Faen highway. If he jumps in at a dead stop it would be dangerous. Unless you would prefer for him to try off-roading.”
“Alright,” Sev conceded.
“If my models are correct, the worst that will happen are some of your components gaining quirks. But again, since it’s gaspowered, it’s less likely to go haywire than something with a spelldrive.”
“Alright, alright. Do your thing. But please… try to be gentle.”
Hace gave them a winning smile with a thumbs up. Fitz and Sev both shuddered. Hace put his helmet back on, revved the engine once, then took off down the parking lot toward the padded crash-zone they had put together. When Hace was two bike lengths from the padding, he abruptly blurred out of existence.
The crazy son of a bitch did it.
“That’s my goddamned boy!!” Fitz declared proudly.
Sevardin was still holding his breath, but off her jubilation, he smiled and exhaled.
Fitz was stoked. Thrilled, in fact. She half-figured that Hace had picked an experimental thesis project so he could have an excuse to ride a motorcycle, if only once in his life. But he actually managed to pull it off. Damn. I’m sad I didn’t think of trying it before him. Actually, I’m not sure I can do that. This old bitch ain’t great with new tricks.
To be fair, Hace still had trouble bringing people through the Veil with him. He could ensure their safe passage, but they were often knocked astray in transit. He also had yet to successfully perform her dimensional cleave sorcery—much to his chagrin. But all in due time. He is well on his way to surpassing me. And what more could a mentor ask for?
“So uh, how long until he gets back?” Sev asked anxiously.
Fitz laughed and clapped her hand on his shoulder.
“Let the kid have his victory lap. Also, keep time dilation in mind. A minute there—”
“Could be hours here. Yeah, yeah…’
They waited in silence for a long moment, and then Fitz started talking, because she was bad at shutting up.
“I’m sorry you didn’t get better news from the yakshi, Sev.”
Sev looked at her like the statement confused him. Like he was gauging whether the phrase was offensive, or even coherent. In the end he gave her this empty shell of a smile and shook his head, as if to say ‘no harm, no foul.’
He’s still in denial. If she was home, she would have come back to you, Sev. If she’s not in the Faed, and she hasn’t come home, then she’s most likely dead. Even if she got stranded in the Veil, to go this long… There’s no way she could maintain her sense of self. Humans need bodies to exist. We can hold our breath through the Veil, but we can’t breathe in it.
“I know she’s probably not in the Veil,” Sev said with a forced chuckle.
This is why I didn’t want to indulge you. Sometimes it’s better not to know. Fitz must have worn her pity plainly, because Sev gave her the same empty smile and assured her:
“I’m doing alright, Fera. Thank you.”
Fera turned away from the crash pad and leaned against an adjacent car.
“There are shrinks, and groups, and other shit, but… I have a feeling you’re like me.”
Sevardin gestured “how so?” and smiled the same fake smile, like it had become a tick.
“Too cool for school,” she said, smirking. Then she answered more earnestly: “We don’t want to pay people to ask us questions we are already asking ourselves. And misery doesn’t love company. Not for us. Seeing other people suffer when we’re already hurting doesn’t make us happy. It makes us nihilistic.”
Sev nodded, finally lowering his façade. He saw the world through a thousand-yard stare. Fitz decided to press her luck:
“But something I have learned, is that you need to do it anyway. Work through it. You need to at least go through the motions and try that bullshit, so you can know that it doesn’t work. I know that doesn’t make sense. I hated that shit. But I needed to do it. I attended meetings long enough that I could learn how to do it myself, you know?”
Sev nodded again, but now she could tell that she was losing him again. There was a false thoughtfulness on his face when she was looking for resignation. You have to accept the fact that you need help before you can get help. And that’s never pretty. It doesn’t look introspective. It looks like somebody stabbed you in the gut.
“Just. Think about it,” Fitz said.
And there was that damn empty smile again. You aren’t a preacher for a reason, Fera.
“How’s the North Arroyo case going?” Fitz asked.
“Man. You are choosing all the fun topics today,” Sev chuckled.
“Sorry,” Fitz said softly.
Sev sighed.
“It’s fine. M&M is… different. They are more accustomed to dealing with monsters than they are with people and they don’t realize how big this powder keg is. Or maybe they don’t care.”
“Big how?” Fitz asked.
“You’ve got the Rollers on one side. They burned the house down back in Sagittarius. And last week the Rifa 13 answered by electrocuting a boy. A look out. Only twelve years old. But they did it with magic, just like I knew they would. ‘See? We can do it too,’ and ‘mine’s bigger than yours,’ bullshit.”
“And if you go after the Rollers, the AKF is racist against Blacks. If we go after the Rifa, we have a problem with Latinos,” Fitz deduced.
Sev nodded earnestly.
“See? You get it. I mean, that’s just one aspect of this shit, and you already see a bigger picture than Miller and Smith.”
“I’m sorry, honey. You’ve got it rough from every angle.”
Sev nodded his head emphatically, façade dropping again:
“Tell me about it.”
After about five more minutes, they felt another ripple, and Hace emerged further up the parking lot, just out of their sightline. Fitz cheered and pumped her fist in the air while Sev whistled and applauded. Hace removed his helmet, face breathless and beaming.
“It works,” he said.
Sev knelt to his bike, feeling out its inherence with his wyrd.
“And it ran okay?” Sev asked.
“Like a dream. Thanks for waiting. I swear I wasn’t going for a joyride. At least, not intentionally. Took me about twenty minutes to find a softspot.”
“Which road did you end up on?” Fitz asked.
“The Uncanny Ribbon,” Hace said, smiling again.
Fitz knew that stretch of the Faed well. It was an airborne highway that drifted throughout the Faed, developing temporary offshoots to other faen thoroughfares seemingly at random. It was also characterized by its gravity defying twists and loops.
“Bet that was fun,” Fitz grinned.
Hace shrugged sheepishly, trying to play things cool in front of his idol, but Fitz could tell he could barely contain his glee. He got off the bike and extended his hand to Sevardin who took it and shook it.
“Thank you so much, Detective. I think she came through unharmed,” Hace said, nodding at the bike. “But if something is quirked, or needs to be replaced, let me know so I can include it in my paper and reimburse you.”
Sev gestured for him not to worry about money.
“Glad to repay a favor. Do you need to run any more tests?”
“I’ll need to do two more runs to prove this isn’t a fluke. It would be best if we give her some time to rest in between jaunts, though. Repeated jumps in a single day are more likely to quirk things. How about we meet the week after new year’s?”
“Will that leave you with enough time to write your papers?” Sev asked.
“Plenty. Actually, I should get going. I want to write down my observations while everything is still fresh in my head.”
“Sounds good,” Sev said.
Hace excused himself, jogging back toward the heart of campus. Fitz and Sev watched him go.
“You’ve got a good kid,” Sev observed.
Fitz nodded and smiled thoughtfully.
Yeah. I do.
— Alinore Valmont | 5:05 PM | Arroyo Athenaeum (Sorcerium) —
Damn! Lin pushed herself back onto her feet and returned to the circle, breathing hard.
“One more round,” she insisted.
Her sparring partners looked at her with a mix of exasperation and concern. She had corralled Zaire Aoyama, Dravnik Sokolov, Vetha Windsor, Kimiss Knight, and Asana and Milana Ortiz from her cohort of aspiring Keepers. Two of Lin’s favorite ninth-years—Lily Park and Emith Friedman—had also joined in.
Lin had been fighting all eight of them, simultaneously, for the past hour. She was determined to tie Athren’s record for a perfect thesis defense. And who better to practice against than your peers?
“Lin, you’re practically limping,” Emith chided.
“Please. She can do this all day,” Lily replied.
Lily idolized Lin, and was probably her next closest friend after Pensey, Vetha, and Senice. They were both half-Asian girls who were resolute in their defiance of familial expectations. Lily had transferred from the San Francisco Athenaeum just before starting her ninth year, which was a brutally difficult handicap in Lin’s opinion. So she made it her personal mission to help Lily with the transition, and the girl was an instant regular at her workshops and study groups.
Emith was another frequent presence, and a promisingly gifted aspirant, but he was plainly smitten with Lin. Usually his spot would go to Hace Matthews, but Matthews said he was busy working on his thesis.
“Friedman’s right, Valmont,” Zaire said. “If we hurt you much worse, you won’t recover quick enough to do this again before Taurus. Also, I’m plenty tired of getting knocked around myself. We’re pulling our punches but you’re going all out.”
Lin reassessed her circumstances. She knew her classmates were going easier on her than they normally would—they were the best their cohort had to offer, after all. But after her repeated insistence that they come at her harder, she had earned her fair share of bruises and scrapes. Her wyrd was sore and her hands twitched like they were doing needlework—a sure sign that she was spent.
“Fine,” Lin conceded, then looked at her self-appointed protégé. “Sorry to disappoint you, Lily.”
“Oh no! Lin’s mortal after all,” Lily said with faux shock.
Lin smiled at her and made a heart with her hands. As they collected their belongings, Lin’s leg muscle seized up and she stumbled, swearing.
“Perhaps go to the infirmary,” Drav suggested. “You are actually limping.”
“Nothing a hot shower and some ibuprofen won’t fix,” she assured him.
“Girl, I know I’m crazy for asking, but… why are you so desperate to get a perfect defense?” Milana asked. “Is it really worth four months of pain?”
“Some people can’t settle for number two. Not that you’d get it,” Esana said.
“Says the number two twin,” Milana countered airily.
Before Esana could assault her sister, Lin gestured for peace, laughing.
“I don’t… I don’t know exactly. I want to prove a point to my mother. I need to show her that I am as qualified to be a Keeper as my brother. Or maybe I need to prove it to myself. I don’t know. I just know that if I can’t get a perfect defense, I will regret it.”
“Didn’t your father write that ‘one cannot call themselves a peacekeeper until they have tasted true regret?’” Vetha asked.
Lin nodded fiercely. It was a famous line from his first autobiography, about his career as a Keeper before he took the office of Archon.
“That’s exactly it though! There will be time enough for regret out in the real world, where we don’t know what to expect and can’t control everything. So while we we’re here, in a controlled environment….” She shook her head. “I have to do it.”
“Makes sense to me,” Lily said, nodding with satisfaction.
Kimiss bowed at the others to excuse herself, leading Zaire, the twins, and Drav to do the same.
“First Satday back from Christmas break!” Lin called, reminding them of their next session.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Emith asked.
He seemed almost hopeful that she wasn’t. He was always looking for a way to ingratiate himself to her, or impress her. It was adorable, but also exhausting. Emith was good-looking, and Lin wasn’t completely closed to the idea of dating a younger man, but she knew he wasn’t right for her. I want somebody who respects me, but I don’t want to be worshipped or treated like I’m made of glass.
“I’m sure. Thanks Emith,” she said.
He bobbed his head and left the room. Lily rolled her eyes and shook her head:
“I swear Lin, he is so down bad.”
Vetha gestured emphatic agreement.
“He’s sweet!” Lin said reproachfully. “But yeah, I wish I could… guide him elsewhere. I get the impression that another girl expressing interest might do the trick.” Then she added wickedly: “Don’t suppose you would be willing to take one for the team?”
“I will slap you,” Lily said, though Lin was surprised to note that her cheeks pinkened.
Vetha laughed and gestured ‘not it.’
— 5:46 PM —
Lin drove the three of them back to the senior aspirant girls’ dorms, and after an extremely indulgent shower, Lin opened the bathroom door and discovered Pensey tickling Ginsberg.
“Pen!” Lin exclaimed.
“Look who’s back!” Pensey said excitedly.
“I know! It feels like I haven’t seen you in months!” Lin said.
Pensey frowned.
“I was talking about Ginsy!”
Lin strode forward and ruffled the monster cat’s head. She bit Lin’s finger in reply. Lin hissed.
“Hello to you too, you little shit,” she said acidly.
Ginsberg still looked a little like a kitten. Whatever experiments she had been subjected to caused her to age in quarter time. Either that, or she’s a naturally small cat. She visited them semi-regularly to snuggle with Pensey and find creative new ways to ruin Lin’s bedding.
Pensey stopped petting the cat long enough to hug Lin. Even though they shared a dorm room, their sleeping schedules had been out of sync and they increasingly pulled all-nighters at the archives. The only time they could get together was to work on the parts of their theses that overlapped. Eleventh year is supposed to be a joke. So why do I feel like I’m the punchline?
“What have you been up to?” She asked.
“Perfect defense training!” Lin answered proudly.
Pensey gave her a withering look.
“Four months is a long time to practice eight-on-ones, Lin.”
“I’ve got to practice if I want to have a chance!” Lin insisted.
Pensey pointedly looked her over. Lin was only wearing a sports bra and shorts. Ah shit.
“Uh-huh. And how many of these do you plan on handicapping yourself with?”
Pensey poked her in the shoulder, ribs, and pelvis—all points that had blossomed into angry bruises from her sparring session. Lin, who was holding a towel around her neck, was completely defenseless. She yelped as each strike struck home.
“Keep this up and I’ll be able to take you out,” Pensey said sternly.
“Hey, I’ve actually thought this through! I train from now up until the start of Taurus and give myself the whole month to recover!” Lin protested.
“You know injuries compound, right? The more bruises and strains you pick up now, the more likely you’ll hurt something seriously before your defense. Also recovering takes actual rest. And your thesis is almost as bad as mine.”
“Yeah right,” Lin said. “My thesis is basically a footnote in yours.”
“It’s not a joke though! You could have taken it a lot less seriously. Like Hace isn’t exactly slacking, but he’s already on the home stretch with his project.”
Lin sighed.
“Well, if what you’ve told me is true, he has decent reasons for spending less time on campus.”
Pensey had explained that Matthews’ mother was dying. Some kind of urdo-neurological degeneration with no hope of cure. She didn’t have long left either. And you’d have to be a stone-cold bitch to not feel anything after that sob story. Out of deference for Pensey—and because she needed him as a sparring partner—Lin was reluctantly burying her feud with Hace.
“What’s his project again? Riding motorcycles into the Faed?” Lin asked.
Pensey sighed.
“That exactly, yeah.”
Lin laughed.
“I assumed I was misremembering something. It’s just so ridiculous. How the hell did he get a committee to approve that?”
“I don’t know. But even if it is ridiculous—and ridiculously dangerous—it sounds like a lot more fun than code review,” Pensey said sulkily.
She sank onto their couch and started working on a laptop incanter. Lin sat down gingerly next to her and flipped on the symvision to the news, muting it. There was another story on the gang violence in North Arroyo. A boy had been publicly executed by electrocution. Flagrant malefaction. Pensey looked up from her screen.
“Your thesis is going to help prevent this,” Lin said. “With Zenith, we’ll be able to dynamically patch the cracks in licenses every day. No more four-month wait.”
“And your thesis will help secure the convictions for the crimes we can’t prevent.”
Lin resisted the compliment with a faint smile. Her thesis was—in part—the next evolution of Zenith. Allowing Licenses to upload their usage logs to lexiclaves, so that wearers couldn’t remotely erase evidence of exempt magic that had been used to commit crimes. Edge cases at best. Part of Lin worried it was a bridge too far. Yet another avenue for the Amagium to expand its influence and power.
“Did you find a solution for the security loophole?” Lin asked.
Pensey beamed and nodded. Lin squealed with enthusiasm and emanated “tell me!” on repeat. Pensey walked Lin through her epiphany, which hit her that dawn, following yet another sleepless night in the archives.
“Memory erasure to combat mental domination,” Lin said, astonished. “I don’t doubt that you can make it work, but it sounds like curing cancer with… a different kind of cancer.”
“I’ve already figured it out. I didn’t propose it to Steinbeck until I had completed a functional model. I haven’t tested it on anyone yet but….” She nodded. “This is going to work, Lin. We’re going to make history.”
Lin had to fight a shiver.
“Are you scared?” Lin asked. “Like, this system will revolutionize the Third Amagium. But with revolution, you get… revolution. Explosions. Mobs with pitchforks. Criminal opportunists…”
“Something will go horribly wrong,” Pensey said, nodding. “But that doesn’t mean we get to give up on trying to build a better world.”
Lin was once again in awe of the wisdom her friend casually dropped. Pensey laughed at her expression and continued:
“Think of it like the lightways. Thousands of cars, relying on automated magical code to dynamically generate new, temporary roads. It presents a catastrophic risk of danger. But they work! Despite all the odds, they’ve improved traffic in Los Angeles and they are statistically safer than terrestrial roads. And Zenith is like the lightways to a factor of ten.”
It was a rare case where a metaphor actually made Lin feel better. Pensey kept going:
“Can somebody theoretically abuse Zenith? No question. And someday, somebody will, somehow. I know that. When that day comes, I hope it isn’t bad enough to make me regret working on it. But the technology already exists in theory. Better the Amagium get out in front of things for once rather than playing catch up with the criminals.”
“What if you do regret it?” Lin asked.
“That’s the worst-case scenario. But the answer is, somebody else will learn from my mistakes and solve the problems we tried to solve in a smarter way. That’s why we’re here. A mage’s job is to move things forward. That’s what magic means to me.”
Lin nodded, reassured, though she couldn’t put her finger on exactly why.
“You really are amazing.”
Pensey grinned.
“I have had some amazing teachers.”
