“Well, it’s about Jonas,” Ira said to Calculating Tactician Charlotte of Wales.

The Princess had wasted no time in calling the Adjusted Team to her offices at Gatepost Borough House.

“I thought so. When that damned Frenchman told me about those Africans and why they got interested… I just wish they’d told me. It’s one thing to keep secrets. But that.”

“I’m sure his Majesty has been briefed by the Government.”

“Yes, and when this is resolved, I’ll have some strong words with my grandfather about it. But that’s for the future. Tell me all you know.”

The three looked at each other and deferred to Ira.

“We found out about the existence of the Zulus first, actually,” he started explaining.

“There have been lots of rumours about Africans for years,” she noted.

“When we explored that trunk… I hope you know about it…”

“That, I do,” she said drily.

“We found one unknown and unmapped zone, and it had black-skinned Professional teams. We observed them for a bit, then came back. We didn’t know exactly where they hailed from yet, nor how this tier-two was located relative to their Great Gate. And since the trunk was kept secret at the time, we reported it only to the War Office.”

“Continue.”

“Then, apparently, they learned of our existence… from the French,” Ira sheepishly added.

Charlotte snorted in derision.

“Handy people. When they’re not at war with us, that is.”

Ira winced reflexively, although Jonathan wasn’t present.

“A pair of them made their way to London, and met Jonas,” he pursued.

“And they were interested in the Adjustment Milestones,” she surmised.

“Because apparently, their God-King has the same type.”

“And they have fanciful tales about him.”

“They insist that he came out of the Gate when it opened. And was already of high-tiers and monstrous levels. Eight thousand.”

“That’s the kind of tales you’d expect from credulous tribesmen.”

“The man Jonas spoke with had met with the one who witnessed their God-King come out. And some other details confirm the story, like the incredibly tall stature.”

“Excuse me?” she asked, incredulously.

Ira realized that she might not have known, and explained.

“So every time you Adjust…” she wondered.

“We gain a third of an inch, about that. The clothes that were made for us at the knighting no longer fit.”

“I thought it might explain the pain we get at the time, but it’s a bit extreme, even if our bones were stretched. Regeneration tends to dull any pain once your levels are high enough, but those Adjustment pains… they grow,” Guss added.

“And if he has forty…”

“Forty-eight, according to Jonas’s contact,” Ira precised.

“… then being a man and a half tall isn’t impossible.”

“And unless you know first-hand about Adjustment, it’s the kind of things you wouldn’t think of.”

“Or you might simply want to impress for unrelated reasons. I wish to figure out why they thought to ally themselves with China, though.”

“According to the contact we got in that zone when we went back Jonas, Guss and I, there are two factions among the Zulus. The ‘loyalists’, who revere their God-King Mhambi Meshindi, and the core who are convinced he’s not what he seems, and will bring ruin to their lifestyle.”

“They might not be incorrect. But that’s because of the presence of a Great Gate, more than some God-like Zulu.”

“The point is, they want to remove him… but he’s like tier 13 or 14…”

“That’s impossible to deal with.”

Ira shrugged. He tended to agree with her evaluation, but who knew.

“They have a plan, which they keep secret. But they need a full raid of tier seven or above. They aren’t numerous enough to do it on their own, and by the time they could muster enough high tiers… they’re afraid the rest will be too besotted with their God and will stand against them.”

“That’s what they wanted? Allies?”

“Yes. They didn’t bother with us, because we spent more time harvesting low tier lairs, rather than push to the high tiers.”

“That dratted Royal Labyrinth Company…” she swore.

“They got into touch because they had no idea what we were. The reports they had were apparently confusing, so they didn’t know if we were high-tiers, or not. If they suddenly had a team that could stand against Mhambi Meshindi…”

“They must have been frustrated,” she laughed.

“Yea. But now that they had contact with us, well, getting us in their scheme was now on the table. And there we are,” Ira concluded.

“And then, they help China invade.”

“That’s probably the loyalist faction. I doubt the plotters are very happy with coming here and killing some high-tier Professionals they hoped to enlist.”

“That would set back their plans, no doubt.”

“Certainly. They say dealing with someone with 8000 levels is possible, that he probably won’t expect it, and they’re waiting to have a chance before they start the ball rolling.”

“Well, things have gotten more complicated now,” she said.

Ira shrugged.

“I have no idea.”

There was a knock at the door, and the head of the Borough receptionist came in.

“The American is back, your Highness.”

“I’ll be with her immediately, once we’ve finished.”

She turned back to the three.

“How do we confirm that they are, indeed, attacking us?”

“Well, we can’t ask our contact. I now realize we didn’t find them at our last meeting might be linked to the attack, rather than Gate closures. But we have no other way to contact them,” Ira acknowledged.

“We’re in no better position,” she noted. “Can’t send messages across the Great Gate, as long as the other side is in Chinese hands. I have no doubt the army is readying itself for a counteroffensive. But if they brought too many higher tiers, they will need support from Professionals. And that means coordinating…” she trailed.

She straightened, having reached a personal conclusion.

“Well, if you have more information, come immediately. Anything you remember might be useful. If we could count on the rebels for sabotage of the Chinese operations… or even just some intelligence on their exact plans.”

“Jonas could tell you more if he was there,” Ira said.

“He’s still alive?”

“According to the team descriptor, it seems so. Some scouts have confirmed what Sylvia said, that once your resurrection timer ends, you simply drop from the descriptor, no matter where you are.”

“Speaking of which. Get her in,” she called out.

“Give me good news,” Charlotte said once the Adjusted team had departed and the foreigner had settled in her chair.

“I wish. By chance, we had the Vice-President there, so I was able to impart him directly with the strategic disaster a China in control of the British Isles would be,” Sylvia said.

“And?”

“And that’s it. He’s headed to the Federal Capital to discuss matters with the cabinet and Congress. They’re the ones with the power to declare war on China.”

“That’s not the kind of news I hoped for,” said the Princess.

“Can’t do better. I’m more of a field agent, not a politician. I leave that to the male side of the family. That said, the Labyrinth Secretary has put things in motion in case Congress agrees. Notably, there were three fast cutters of yours at port in Manhattan, and he has prevailed on the governor to tell them to stay. And he’s put a notice for any high-tier volunteers to be ready to ship to England.”

“Volunteers?”

“Aye. There was talk of having some form of conscription for Professionals, but that went nowhere. We all count on good American patriotism.”

“That does not fill me with enthusiasm. But I’ll take all I can. Speaking of which, I’ll have messages drafted to carry to those captains.”

“I’ll be the glorified mail runner, then,” Sylvia said with a smile.

“I had hoped to make use of some of our Professionals who took the trip two years ago, but Louisa – a former teammate of mine, the daughter of Earl Grey – said she landed in Machenlenso and the Gate there was locked.”

“Ah yes. All Gates out of Machenlenso have been blown out. No moving out. Or in unless you have the right travel.”

Charlotte hesitated.

“Do you know… why?”

“Best guess? The trunk there lands not too far from France,” Sylvia deadpanned.

“Why does everyone already know our secrets.”

“You mean, you didn’t know about that one? You have a different access?”

Charlotte winced.

“We have. Nothing close to our Gate here, but it lands not far from Argenmart. That’s how the War Office did its main sneak attack. We suspect another trunk-type zone… closer. Maybe the same as yours – we haven’t gotten the entrance open yet, although specialists swear the crumbled arch in one lair ruin must be it.”

“The Labyrinth isn’t what it used to be,” Sylvia noted.

“And you can thank Jonas and his merry band for that. They’re the ones who found Cores…”

“Which he confirmed to me. But after I guessed some parts.”

“Is that why you got attached to him?”

“Well, the FBL didn’t invest too much in that operation. That was more of a personal investment.”

“And then you learned of trunks. I presume from him as well?”

“No, actually from the Chinese,” Sylvia said bluntly.

Charlotte blinked in surprise. But of course, the Americans were neutral and slightly friendly with China still. She decided not to press the matter.

At least the Chinese didn’t get it from England via the Americans.

“They surprised us by coming out of Machenlenso. Which I think means they do have at least one trunk access within their zone of influence,” Sylvia said.

“Since we know very little about their zones, we can’t be sure if the one we know has some.”

“I presume it has with us, given that Machenlenso isn’t the only problematic connection.”

“You’d have to talk to the War Office for that. I know the general lines, not the details.”

“I’d have thought…” Sylvia frowned.

“No. The government tends to keep their secrets very close, and the first in line to the throne isn’t apparently important enough to warrant being told about it.”

She stood up.

“I’ll have my messages drafted within the hour. Can I count on you?”

“My pleasure, your Highness. Although soon, I’ll need a week between transits. Only two charges of Fast Travel left.”

“Let’s not waste them, then.”

Being out of the Palace in the park in front felt a bit weird for Jonas. Not that he was going to run away, not with 65% Lingering Death and six very high-tier Professionals watching his moves. Along with the Princess of the Second Rank were the woman bodyguard from the tea discussion, a chainmail-clad, no-nonsense defender, a man with robes and a pair of books that had a glow moving in a circular motion, a red leathers-clad man with a two-foot-long hammer with spikes, and a lancer whose only Artefact visible was a floating copper wire in front of his leather bandana.

If he had to guess, Jonas would have said it was a full team. Her full team, obviously. Zhuangjing had invited him for a small walk in the park between Saint James and the Queen’s House. Invited might be a strong word since there was little Jonas could do to refuse.

“Your city is filthier than I had expected,” she said, making small talk.

“We have our poor if that’s what you mean,” he replied.

“In a country well governed, poverty is something to be ashamed of. I am surprised you don’t have a much clearer separation between your imperial quarters and the rest. The poor are but a stone throw from your Palace.”

Jonas merely shrugged.

“Is this why you invited me? To talk about the poor?”

“Well, we do have a respite. There have been no skirmishes anywhere for the last day, and my troops are going to prepare to face your armies. My generals are figuring out where to smash them first. Then, we will find a viceroy worthy of the charge, and we’ll have peace.”

Jonas instinctively looked toward the Gate location, behind the Queen’s quarters.

“Having your king surrender would have been the best. But having the uncrowned heir exiled, unable to agitate against us is almost as good. Without firm governance, your generals will sway and falter.”

“It won’t be easy.”

“It never is. Most of the Great Heroes have been in the military, and that’s a truth they know well. But it is easier that way. Your Professionals cower behind the Gate, confident in their capacity to stymie us in our attacks. But that’s merely weakness, not strength. Once they’ve lost their country, they’ll have lost their honour. And without honour, how can they sustain themselves as Heroes?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“I am surprised. Having a female heir is weird, even if she is a Great Hero by her deeds. An Emperor may father many sons and daughters for strong alliances, but an Empress may only have legitimate heirs if she’s lucky.”

Her head snapped toward a different direction and Jonas turned. A man was approaching. And Jonas immediately recognized what he was. A Zulu.

The man looked at him askance, before starting in the Princess’ language. They snapped back and forth, a weird sing-song gabble of alien syllables and sounds. The man stomped in apparent disappointment and turned, heading out.

“What was that?”

“He was asking why you weren’t sent to his God-King yet if we did not want to execute you ourselves.”

Jonas’s eyes must have shown his incredulity.

“Do not worry. I told him that, unless the rest of your team was found, it was of little use to dispose of your person.”

She smiled sweetly.

“Do not forget my leniency. I do need your wisdom, but as I just said, there are five others who know your peculiarities. Now, how high do you think the Adjustment’s pain can come?”

The woman was looking tired and dirty, in a frumpy smock. Despite her ordinary look, Jonathan could tell from a lack of descriptor she wasn’t what she seemed. And either she was low tier, or very good at reigning in her Presence. He nodded toward Alton to confirm her identity.

“There’s talk about you trying to rile up the people?” she said, dropping on the chair at the improvised team’s table.

“That we are. You’re in?” Alton asked.

“You seem awfully trusting,” she noted.

“I can tell you’re one of us.”

She closed her eyes.

“Should have guessed. Gauge Enemy?”

“Something like that. Enough to confirm, not enough to know more,” Alton offered as an explanation.

“It would be good to invest in if it wasn’t worth little outside raids.”

“You’re high tier then?”

“Upper five,” she said, offering her wrist.

Alton checked the descriptor, Spry Borer Eliza Bluit. Level 630, the highest they’d seen.

“I recognize you now, you’re the guy who broke the Gate?” she whispered, focusing on Jonathan.

“Veteran of Versailles?” he asked.

“Yea. Was kind of anti-climactic, having so few enemies to defeat. But I was in. That’s how I got… this.”

A sphere of mottled stone appeared briefly in her hand, before vanishing.

“Won that when we did that tumbleweed tier-four legend in the trunk, two weeks before the assault.”

“You got your gear, then? Ours is still in Gatepost,” Alton asked.

“Aye. And so do the others.”

“Others.”

“Yes. I was going vanguard, after hearing about that dive with Professionals recruiting others. Got most of my team around, and we stumbled on a bunch of scouts that had died. We dragged them to safety and resurrected them.”

“How many?” Jonathan asked.

“Nine total, including me. We almost couldn’t resurrect the scout defender, Cameron, he was just 100 health under the best gear mine could do.”

Alton smiled, and a moment later, Jonathan as well.

“Now we’re talking. Things are looking better.”