Mana Soul: Chapter 52 - The Firm - G. Peabody

German - Blue French - Green English - Red Gaeilge - Orange Japanese - Purple Mesopotamian - Grey

Standing by the window of his office, Gregory watched the rain patter against the glass with a sense of looming foreboding. Unable to avoid looking at a faint echo of his own reflection, Gregory absently ran his long pointed nails over the six months of stubbled growth that had sprung up on his cheek. Despite only needing to shave a few times a year, Gregory was struggling to find the motivation to do so.

Almost certain he was going to lose his job in the next financial quarter, Gregory found it difficult to take his job seriously anymore. His list of clients had once been the lifeblood of the firm, but now he had none.

Or rather, Peabody had two ongoing contracts pending completion. However, with the clients in question having paid in advance, the ongoing contracts were a drain on the firm’s resources. The fact that the number of quality Champions was dwindling by the day, combined with the remnants of his former reputation, were the only reasons Gregory hadn’t already been fired.

Not that it would matter for much longer in the grand scheme of things anyway. There would be no room for neutral parties in the new universe, and firms like his would be made redundant.

Leaving the window, Gregory sat down at his desk and considered beginning his day drinking early with the bottle of vermouth in his desk’s hidden drawer. Glancing guiltily at the small photograph on his desk, Gregory averted his eyes and stood back up again.

Pacing his rather cramped office, Gregory wondered if anyone would notice, or care, if he went home early. An up and comer might use it as a pretext to get him fired, but Gregory didn’t really see that as a problem. It would just mean that much more time to make peace with himself before everything collapsed.

Finding himself standing next to his desk, Gregory had already picked up the framed photograph without thinking. The familiar action was more muscle memory at this point than a conscious decision. Lightly brushing aside the thin layer of dust, Gregory faintly smiled as he looked down into the fierce smiling face of an athletic, tall, young woman with a tightly bound ponytail of unruly reddish-brown hair. Quick to anger, her acid green eyes flashed dangerously, accenting her toothy smile with an aura of danger.

Her name was Brida, and she was Gregory’s first contracted Champion. The firm preferred to use the word ‘Hero’ to try and prop up the egos of new recruits, but Brida had cut to the quick and refused to be referred to as anything else. Considering the nature of most contracts, Gregory had long since come to agree that Champion was a far more fitting word.

Brida had been a one in a billion find. It was purely by chance that Gregory had been the one to make contact with her and convinced her to sign their first contract. She had been riddled with bullet holes, and in spite of the temporal dampening field allowing them time to negotiate, Brida had largely ignored the pain and aggressively negotiated a deal that might have seen Gregory’s burgeoning career end then and there.

Contracted to bring an end to a hundred-year war between the mortal forces of two quarrelling deities, Brida completed the contract within a month. Rather than being put off by the bloody and ruthless necessities of the job, Brida had approached him for another contract, and then another and another and another. With a reputation as being incredibly capable and morally flexible, Brida had been in high demand.

Naturally, Brida’s success had cemented Gregory’s own position in the firm, he was the new golden boy and could do no wrong. Even when Brida was semi-retired to raise a family, Gregory still made an effort to stay in touch.

At the time, he had wanted to cultivate a relationship with her children, a connection that would ensure they would enter his roster of Champions and not someone else's. Thinking back on it made Gregory feel ashamed.

Replacing the photo on the desk, Gregory returned to his earlier position by the window. “Your children were in the car...” He still vividly remembered Brida’s husband limply hanging in his seatbelt, and their young daughter wide-eyed and clutching at an open wound in her neck as the car hovered over the edge of the cliff.

Gregory clenched his fist and curled his lip in anger and disgust, “Why hadn’t their insurance worked?!” He snarled and banged his fist on the window. Enchanted by master Artificers, the window remained unscathed.

An excited knocking came from the door, “Uncle! I have something you need to see!” Without waiting for a reply, the door opened and a spindly limbed and eager faced youth with dark black hair entered Gregory’s office.

“I have told you before Bert,” Gregory sighed, “It’s not good for your future prospects to be seen with me...” His sister’s son, Gregory had been the one to pull some strings and get Bert his job at the firm back when he was still a somebody.

“But uncle! I have something important to show you!” Bert insisted, his dark blue eyes sparkling as he carefully closed and locked the office door, “Activate the Privacy Screen!”

Gregory frowned uncertainly before leaving the window and pressing a hidden button on the underside of the desk. “What is this about Bert? If you are in trouble, I’m afraid-”

“NO!” Bert interrupted excitedly, waving his hands dismissively, “It’s nothing like that! Just shut up for a minute and take a look at this!” Bert removed a hemispherical crystal orb from his pocket and placed it on the desk.

A localised segment of the universe projected from the crystal and now occupied most of Gregory’s office. The overwhelming majority of planets were cast in grey shadow, and those that weren’t were at the very least partially covered.

“This is the Calliope sector,” Gregory observed dryly, “It’s predicted to fall completely within the decade. What of it?”

Bert’s smile widened and he excitedly pointed to one of the planets already lost to the Tiamites, “Just look!” Bert insisted, “This is the scan from a week ago.”

Gregory wandered closer to the planet in question, and carefully looked at the reading.

[Calliope 057: 98.62%]

Gregory frowned. Typically, the Tiamites' OCD compelled them to conquer planets in sequential order, moving on only after the entire planet was theirs. It wasn’t like them to leave territory unclaimed.

“You see?” Bert chuckled nervously and tapped the crystal, “Now, this is a scan from today!”

Gregory felt his heart skip a beat, “I...I need my glasses...” Wanting to be absolutely sure about what he was seeing, Gregory hurriedly removed his reading glasses from the drawer in his desk before returning to read the display, “Impossible...”

[Calliope 057: 96.23%]

“Destroying a Dungeon Matrix doesn’t change the readouts like that!” Bert declared excitedly, “Someone is taking control of them! Or at the very least disabling them!”

“Who?!” Gregory demanded, “Has a fourth party entered the conflict?”

“Well...We aren’t sure...” Bert admitted somewhat reluctantly.

“The mana signatures came back negative?” Gregory asked out of habit while looking at the other planets for signs of similar changes.

“Well...No...” Bert shifted uncomfortably, “Cathy found a match for a mana signature, but it isn’t from the coalition...”

“Cathy?” Gregory drew a blank for a moment before the image of a short blonde haired young woman came to mind, “Oh, from accounts...”

“Uncle!...Cathy works in the consultation department now...” Bert’s ears blushed and he avoided eye contact.

“Oh...” Gregory nodded as he recalled Bert having told him that a couple of years ago, “She must be clever to have been promoted so quickly in the current climate,” Gregory observed impartially.

“She is!” Bert agreed emphatically, “Cathy is the one who identified the mana signature too!”

“So who is it?” Gregory asked nervously, “Which pantheon is finally breaking ranks?”

Bert gulped nervously and shook his head before removing a thin crystal circle from his pocket and depositing it on the desk, “It’s not a god uncle...” He motioned with his eyes for Gregory to activate the crystal.

“Not a god?” Gregory frowned at his nephew for a moment before activating the crystal. Eyes widening in shock and knees growing weak, he stumbled backwards and would have fallen to the floor if Bert hadn’t rushed forward and caught him by the arm. “It can’t be...”

The image of a tall young man appeared above the crystal circle. With black and silver eyes, short reddish-brown hair, a perpetual scowl and a body covered in tribal tattoos. He was unmistakable. All the same, Gregory’s eyes drifted to the identification above his head.

[ Mark Forester - Artificer 10/S - KIA {Calliope 283} ]

“Impossible...This is impossible...” Gregory insisted weakly, “He was confirmed dead years ago...”

“It’s possible someone messed with the detection enchantments,” Bert insisted, “Or hell, he may have done something on his end. A rank ten S Artificer can do practically anything!” He helped Gregory around the desk and onto his chair. “I remembered you telling me about the false positives that kept getting reported around this time period. I asked Cathy to look into it and she says the official record lists Signal Lost, not Contractor Deceased-”

Gregory waved his hands to signal Bert to be quiet. He felt incredibly weak and dazed. Fumbling for the keys on his belt, Gregory opened the secret compartment beneath his desk. Pushing aside the bottle of vermouth, he reached deeper until his fingers wrapped around a thin rectangular wafer of crystal. Removing it from the compartment, Gregory placed the crystal wafer on the table.

“Uncle? What’s that?” Bert asked warily.

“Something that could get us both in a great deal of trouble...” Gregory replied quietly. With the wafer deliberately kept depleted of mana to avoid detection, Gregory took a mana recharge clip from his pocket and attached it to the wafer. Almost immediately, the wafer released a dull chime to signal that it was active.

“Hello? Might I ask whom I am speaking to?” A familiar voice asked.

“Uncle?” Bert gave him a confused look, “That sounds just like you...Is this a recording? Or-”

“Ah, the original!” The verbal doppelganger replied heartily, switching languages with no apparent effort.

“The contingency...” Gregory breathed quietly, his mind reeling at the implications.

“Yes, the contingency,” the doppelganger agreed amiably. “I would comment about the lack of attempts to establish contact, but truthfully, I have not been active for long.”

Bert’s eyes widened, “You broke the fifth rule!” He hissed, his face white as a sheet, “No direct intervention by third parties!”

Wetting his throat as best he could, Gregory tried to raise the courage to ask the question he was not certain he would be able to bear hearing the answer to.

“My Creator is alive.” The voice stated somewhat judgmentally, “But imprisonment for the better part of a decade has left marks all their own. He is not the same man you would remember him to be. But torture at the hands of a degenerate sadist will do that to you...”

Gregory averted his eyes from the crystal wafer and felt a fresh wave of shame. “Mark, he knew there would be an ambush...he accepted the risks...” He croaked feebly.

“He accepted death,” the doppelganger replied coldly, “He was already dying beneath that mountain of broken concrete, so what difference would it make dying a few minutes later at the edge of a blade?”

Gregory had no reply to make, no defence to hide behind. The memory of Mark’s broken body pinned by the concrete still gave him nightmares.

“However,” the voice's tone became far less judgmental, “You were able to circumvent the trap and see Badger to safety as agreed. So we do not blame you.”

“We?” Bert asked quietly.

“I am one servant of many, and we serve the Creator,” the voice replied, a telltale hint of zealotry permeating his tone.

“What is it that you want from me?” Gregory asked.

“Misinformation,” The voice replied somewhat flatly.

“Misinformation?” Bert looked at his uncle and seemed profoundly confused.

“You have a mole in your little hero rental service that feeds information to the enemy,” the voice claimed arrogantly, “Don’t deny it, I know you suspect as much. It is what you told the Creator right before signing the contracts.”

Gregory closed his eyes and nodded, “Yes, there has to be at least one,” he agreed sombrely.

“Highly placed,” the voice persisted, “A real bootlicker.”

Gregory continued to nod, “Chadwick, or so I believe. Head of the Regulatory Board, he’s untouchable.”

“Perhaps,” the voice agreed, “But bringing him low is not the intent.”

“Then what is?” Gregory asked with a small degree of apprehension.

“Misinformation. Specifically, the location of Badger. For the greater objective to be achieved, local assets of the enemy must be eliminated,” The voice stated coldly, “How you decide to explain coming across the information is ultimately up to you, but I would suggest subtlety unless you wish open conflict with Chadwick's handlers...”

Gregory closed his eyes and kneaded his temple to try and abate some of the accumulated stress that was threatening to overwhelm him, “I’ll do it,” Gregory agreed quietly, “I owe Brida at least that much...”

“You do,” the voice agreed, “But do not think that everything is so easily settled. A reckoning will come for those who threaten the Creator and his kin, the end war is coming...”

“End war? Uncle? What are they talking about?” Bert sounded frightened and was slowly backing away from the desk as if it bore a giant venomous spider.

“The end war...” Gregory looked to a planet on the fringe of the Calliope sector, “It is exactly what it sounds like...A war to bring an end to the Tiamites crusade...A war to end them all...”

“The Tiamites can’t be beaten,” Bert scoffed incredulously, “There are barely a handful of their enemies remaining, and the alliance is all but finished. What can one man do against an army that has scoured tens of thousands of worlds?”

Gregory was quiet for a time then looked at the crystal wafer on the desk, “We will see...” A string of coordinates had begun cycling across the surface of the crystal, repeating over and over again. “Bert, you must say nothing of what you have heard here today, for your own sake, and mine. Can you promise me this?”

Bert shifted uncomfortably but nodded earnestly, “I promise, but uncle, you should wash your hands of this. You have already broken too many rules.”

Gregory took a deep breath and shook his head, “No, I owe Brida and her family at least this much. I benefited a great deal from her hard work and talent. It is only right that I make right the debt that I owe.”

“Then I will help you uncle,” Bert insisted somewhat weakly, “I only got this job because of your influence right? Then that means I owe this Brida woman and her children too.”

Gregory almost dismissed his nephew’s offer out of hand, but pragmatism held his tongue. Together, they had a much greater chance of succeeding without being caught and quite possibly accomplishing more besides.

“Cathy will want to help too,” Bert added, “She has been insisting that the Tiamites have been cheating from the start.”

“An informant isn’t in breach of the rules,” Gregory pointed out warily, unsure if he could trust his nephew's crush to keep their secrets.

“But what about the breach in insurance?” Bert pressed, “Cathy says it's been happening for a while-”

“What?!” Gregory demanded, “How did she find out about this? Does she have proof?”

Bert squirmed uncomfortably, “Well, not as such. But contractors' files have been edited, their insurance policies changed or removed outright. She almost got suspended when she pointed out a dozen cases to her manager without first consulting her supervisor.” The last part seemed to particularly upset him, colouring his cheeks and lighting a fire in his dark eyes.

“Are you sure you want to involve her in this?” Gregory asked uncertainly, “There is every possibility that we will be killed if caught.”

Bert was quiet for a moment before shaking his head, “It’s like you have said before uncle if the Tiamites win, they will have no use for us.”

“All the same Bert, this is a serious undertaking. Even if we succeed, Chadwick and any number of his potentially hidden allies could seek retribution-” Gregory wanted to make sure his nephew knew what they would be getting themselves into, but was surprised when Bert interrupted him.

“I KNOW!” Bert insisted, “Uncle trust me, I know...This is going to be dangerous. But I also know that Cathy would never speak with me again if she found out I had a part in this and said nothing about it, that I didn't invite her to help.”

“Alright,” Gregory relented, deactivating the artifices on the desk and stowing them away in the top drawer of his desk to keep them out of sight. “Fetch her and we will explain things, give her a chance to think things over and make the decision for herself.”

Bert nodded determinedly and headed for the door, “She should be on break soon, don’t do anything reckless without us!”

Gregory was about to say something but decided to remain silent instead, deactivating the silencing enchantment on the office.

Bert gave him one last determined look before slipping out of the office and closing the door.

Removing a long-unused toiletries kit from his desk drawer, Gregory lathered up his face and used the razor-edged straight razor to deftly shear away the stubble from his face. Using a hand towel from the toiletries bag to remove the excess lather, Gregory was about to pack away the razor but then thought better of it, stowing it inside of his waistcoat pocket instead. Slicking back his hair with wax from a small tin, he took a moment to inspect his appearance in a small mirror before packing the toiletries kit away.

Taking a series of steadying breaths, Gregory sat down at his desk and activated the display embedded in the top of the desk. Entering his credentials and password, he opened the active contracts of Brida and Rachel Forester.

Before Gregory could begin to review their information, there was a knock at the door.

Without waiting for a response, the door opened and a tall neatly dressed middle-aged man in a dark suit and blood-red tie entered Gregory’s office. With a strong chin and steely blue eyes, the man smiled at Gregory in a way that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “Peabody, it's been too long! When was it we last had a chance to speak with one another one on one like this?”

“Chadwick,” Gregory grudgingly acknowledged the man’s presence but deigned not to answer the question. They both knew that Chadwick didn’t really care. Even if Gregory answered the questions, he would just be ignored anyway.

“So, Peabody, how are your contracts going?” Chadwick asked smugly, his eyes sparkling with malice, “It can’t be easy left handling a pair of quagmires!”

“No, it certainly isn’t,” Gregory replied dourly, wondering if perhaps it would be worthwhile to draw the straight razor from his pocket and give Chadwick a real smile ear to ear.

“Well, I won’t bother you too much longer,” Chadwick assured him while casually eyeing the open contracts projected above Gregory’s desk, “But as hard as this might be for me to say, I need a favour.”

“Wh-What?” Gregory had not exacted this.

“A favour,” Chadwick repeated, “A little tit for tat, quid pro quo.”

“I know what a favour is,” Gregory scowled irritably.

“Really? Wouldn’t have thought so with how difficult it has been over the years convincing you to play nice with the other departments,” Chadwick commented idly, “But that is neither here nor there.” He sighed and shook his head while feeding an expression of concern, “Look, I’ll be honest Peabody, the board is looking to cut some costs, and I’m afraid to say your neck’s on the chopping block. I am sure it comes as no real surprise at this point?”

Gregory remained silent but nodded to show he understood.

“I have spoken to the board on your behalf already, and they have agreed to award your full pension so long as your contracts are resolved within the current financial quarter. Sounds good right?” Chadwick purred, no doubt fully convinced he had Gregory hooked.

“It does,” Gregory agreed sceptically, “Which makes me wonder, what’s in it for you?”

Chadwick’s smile never faltered, but his eyes grew noticeably colder, “I am up for promotion soon, and your manager has agreed to support me in return for improving his numbers. This is good news for you, because if you're willing to play ball, we're both willing to look the other way while you offer some indirect support to your contractors.” As casual as he tried to sound, Gregory could see the trap for what it was. Chadwick was setting him up, preparing to clear the remaining playing pieces from the board as it were. Even so, it offered Gregory the opportunity he needed and a little more than that besides.

“Hughes is okay with this?” Gregory asked sceptically, wanting not to sound too eager.

No doubt believing he had Gregory just about hooked, Chadwick smiled reassuringly, “Of course! I can send him round to confirm it if you want?”

“I would like that,” Gregory agreed before feigning deep thought for a few moments, “What do you mean exactly by indirect support?”

Chadwick's eyes flashed, “Oh obviously nothing that the Tiamites would be able to catch. But you could probably get away with short two-way communications to pass along intel on their targets. You know, breaking the rules but not being obvious about it. I am sure you can figure out some subtle methods to use in a situation like this.”

Gregory nodded slowly, as if coming around to Chadwick’s line of thinking, “I would need an increase in clearance, at least temporarily,” he pushed, “Unless you want to get other departments involved?”

Chadwick’s smile wavered for a moment, but only a moment, “Of course, I can arrange that. Level seven should be sufficient right?”

Gregory nearly fell out of his chair. Level seven access was far in excess of what he would need in order to establish covert two-way communication. Noticing the calculating look in Chadwick’s eyes, Gregory realised that it was a test. Level seven access would have given Gregory enough access to perform investigations on his superiors and those in other departments, like Chadwick himself. “No, level four should be sufficient,” Gregory answered, making no attempts to hide his genuine shock at the offer.

Chadwick relaxed his shoulders by a nearly imperceptible degree, confirming Gregory’s suspicions, “You are sure? Your contractor's objectives might require additional resources?”

Gregory shook his head, “No, the surveillance drones would be sufficient. Both contracts target relatively well known and public figures. I believe the delays are largely due to the excessive use of body doubles or some such primitive means of concealing the targets. It shouldn't be anything that live intelligence wouldn’t be able to counter.”

“Well...If you are sure?” Chadwick purred smugly.

“I’m sure,” Gregory agreed, pretending not to notice and doing his best to look grateful.

“Then I’ll see it done,” Chadwick announced happily, clapping his hands and heading for the door, “It’s a shame you couldn’t have played ball like this earlier in your career Peabody, things could have turned out very differently.”

Gregory resisted the urge to scowl, smiling and waving until Chadwick closed the door behind himself and a minute longer just to be sure. “Slimeball,” he muttered in disgust.

A few minutes later, a chime emanated from his desk signalling Gregory’s temporary promotion to level four clearance. The increase in clearance revealed additional minor details and notes attached to the contracts, but it wasn’t anything Gregory had not already uncovered through calling in favours years earlier.

Multiple surveillance drones had been deployed as ‘support’ for Brida and her daughter Rachel. The logs detailing the damage incurred by the drones assigned to the former were a telltale sign of the intentions held by the one that sent them. Thankfully, despite nearly a hundred surveillance drones being assigned over the years to track Rachel, all of them had returned without having found a trace of her.

This had been Gregory’s doing. After Brida’s husband was murdered and she had been forced to take a list minute contract to save her children, Gregory had become paranoid. When the building collapsed on top of Brida’s children, and another anonymous broker had immediately stepped in attempting to offer Rachel a contract Gregory had confirmation that a conspiracy was afoot.

Subtly bending a few rules, Gregory had facilitated a last trillisecond switch, swapping in Mark as the signatory of Rachel’s contract, and vice versa. Gregory had done his best to place Rachel in an environment as far from the danger as possible, but he couldn’t fabricate requests to initiate contracts and...And Mark had been convinced he would find a way to find his sister and protect her. Gregory supposed that in a rather grim sense, he had. Just not in the way he intended.

The fluctuating records of Mark's vitals within minutes of his arrival, and for the better part of a decade afterwards, made it abundantly clear that the trap intended for Rachel had been made with sadistic intentions. It left Gregory feeling completely justified in having given Rachel a jamming artifice that would functionally render her invisible to surveillance drone detection enchantments.

A brief knocking at the door drew Gregory from his musings and he felt a momentary surge of panic. He was a marked man now, agreeing to Chadwick’s deal had ensured it. Once he was ‘accidentally’ discovered to be abusing a clearance level he was not meant to have, Gregory would be fired and no doubt terminated shortly afterwards in order to keep Chadwick’s involvement secret. Having already received the increased access, it was possible that evidence had already been prepared in advance and that security was standing outside the door.

“Uncle?” Bert called from the other side of the door before knocking again.

Gregory took a series of deep breaths to calm his nerves. “Come in.”

Looking just as nervous as Gregory felt, Bert entered the room with a short blonde haired young woman he assumed must be Cathy.

Activating the remote lock on the door and the eavesdropping denial enchantments, Gregory took another deep breath. “Bert, you need to listen to me. The plan is off.”

Bert looked surprised for all of a handful of seconds before becoming angry, “What do you mean?!” He demanded.

Gregory hung his head and sighed, “Chadwick has made his move. Cornering me in a trap. A trap that serves the needs for what we had planned.”

“A trap? Then why aren’t you trying to get out of it?!” Bert demanded heatedly.

“Because it will end with me,” Gregory insisted, “A time will come when Chadwick and whoever else he is working with will begin making mistakes, acting too openly and unable to excuse or hide their actions.”

“But what about you!” Bert insisted, “Why not run?! At least try to prolong your life!”

“Because it wouldn’t work,” Gregory replied with a sigh. “That he is moving as openly as he is...Precautionary measures would already have been taken. It’s entirely possible that today was intended as my final day, one way or the other...It’s just that this way is more convenient for Chadwick, and provides the opportunity I need in order to try and make things right.”

Bert remained silent, his face a warring mask of conflicting emotions replacing one another in rapid succession.

“What can we do?” Cathy asked forthrightly, “You said Chadwick or one of the people he works with will slip up? How are you so confident that they will?”

Gregory smiled and nodded his head, “Because I am intending to make them do so,” he admitted, “With help from...well, myself, in a fashion.”

Cathy seemed confused, her thin eyebrows drawn together in concentration as she tried to puzzle out his meaning.

“I am sure Bert will explain things in due time, but I must insist you both leave. The longer you remain in my office, the more likely that you will be added to Chadwick’s list of targets,” Gregory insisted firmly, “So please, you need to leave. I have no intentions of going down easy nephew, but I can’t strike back directly, or even escape. It would only draw yourself, and those you associate with, into the line of fire,” he gave a meaningful look at Cathy to drive home his point.

Bert’s shoulders slumped and he nodded in defeat, “Cathy, we need to go...”

The short young woman regarded Gregory with shrewd grey eyes, “Your nephew thinks the world of you...Just don’t let him down....” She pressed her lips together and seemed to be considering saying something else, but shook her head slightly and then headed to the door instead, gently taking Bert by the hand as she did so.

Deactivating the enchantments and unlocking the door, Gregory gave his nephew a determined and as confident a nod as he could muster.

Bert just stared at him sadly before leaving the office alongside Cathy and closing the door.

Gregory sighed and returned his attention to the records projected above his desk. Knowing that Chadwick was likely monitoring the contracts for signs of change, Gregory decided it would be most prudent to make contact with Brida first. The firm was already vaguely aware of her location, so Chadwick would most likely wait until Rachel’s position was exposed before putting his plans into motion.

Requisitioning a surveillance drone was an automated process, and only took a few minutes to fill out the required forms. Invisible to the naked eye, the surveillance drone was deployed to Calliope two six five. Rather than hunting down Brida herself, the surveillance drone was tasked with locating her target. Originally intended as a quick and bloody intervention to eliminate a religious zealot of an opposing faith, the situation had grown more complicated with the target contracted for death seemingly disappearing.

It was a common enough occurrence due to the level of technological stagnation that allowed the gods to maintain their control over the people seeded upon their planets. However, it only took the surveillance drone a couple of hours to locate the target’s hiding place within a fortress hidden inside of a dense jungle.

Saving the information, Gregory then sent the surveillance drone after Brida. Depending on how far she was from the target, it was possible that Brida would be able to eliminate her target and be returned to Prime zero zero one within a week. If she was profoundly lucky, Brida might be able to secure a contract on Calliope two eight three and reunite with her children.

Calliope two six five had been seeded with a hodgepodge of ethnicities from the prime world, deliberately intended to serve as diverse entertainment for the gods ruling over the planet. The constant conflicts over the interpretation of religious texts, cultural traditions, or even the supremacy of skin pigmentation and facial features were a constant source of strife for the unfortunate inhabitants. True enough for most worlds seeded by the gods for their amusement, Brida had been contracted to destabilise a faction and spark a fresh wave of hostilities.

Brida was easy to find. Far from being idle, she appeared to have established herself as a feudal warlord to better deploy resources and hunt down her quarry.

Very much aware that the surveillance drone would be destroyed just like the others if it approached her directly. Gregory waited until Brida was scanning the horizon from the wall of her primitive wooden fortress before manually deactivating the camouflage enchantments of the drone.

Brida spotted the drone immediately and had drawn a bow and arrow in the span of a single heartbeat. Yet she did not fire.

Gregory signalled the drone to approach.

Brida relaxed but did not set aside the bow or arrow.

Activating the auditory link to the drone, Gregory drew a momentary blank as he tried to think of what to say first.

“Sending another death squad?” Brida growled irritably, “Well, I ain't going nowhere! So bring 'em on!” She dropped the bow and arrow to draw an intricately decorated and heavily enchanted spear from her back.

“W-Wait!” Gregory stuttered, alarmed that he would lose his chance, “Brida! It’s me, Peabody!”

Brida paused, her hardened bronze muscles rippling beneath her skin as she stared at the drone. “Greg?” Brida asked uncertainly, “You aren’t supposed to be able to do this...”

“I know,” Gregory agreed, his thoughts finally falling into line, “Listen Brida, I don’t have a lot of time, so I will need to be quick.”

“Go on,” Brida, lowered her spear but continued to eye the drone warily.

“Your target is located in a fortress hidden in a jungle to the northeast of your position. Estimated to be maybe four days of travel on foot.” Gregory cringed as he blatantly broke the rules and glanced anxiously at the door.

Brida’s eyes widened, “You definitely aren’t supposed to be telling me that...” She muttered, sounding somewhat worried.

Gregory pushed on, “It’s not just you Brida, someone is targeting your family. Someone from the firm, I don’t know who exactly, tried to use a contract to send Rachel into a trap.“

Brida’s acid green eyes burned with the intensity of a collapsing star, “MY, DAUGHTER?!” She hissed, fists trembling in rage.

“Rachel is safe, for now...But Mark...He took her place, but they are both on Calliope two eight three-” Gregory continued quickly but was interrupted.

“WHAT?!” Brida demanded, her left fist obliterating the nearby crenelations in a hail of splitters.

“Brida! I don’t have time! I am entering the lion's den to do what I can! SO PLEASE LISTEN!” Gregory demanded, the faint hint of hysteria entering his voice.

Perhaps taking note of his desperation, Brida made an effort to calm herself.

“Mark is no longer under contract, I am not sure how, but he isn’t. From the information I have available...it looks like he is preparing for war with the Tiamites.” Gregory didn’t quite know what else to say.

“What? But Mark isn’t a Warrior...” Brida furrowed her brow and pressed her lips tightly together as she tried to think.

“Brida! I need to go. You need to destroy the drone so they won’t have access to the backup recording-'' Gregory flinched as Brida’s spear blurred into motion and ended the feed. Hastily eliminating the audio feed and editing the series of events to involve only the drone’s arrival and subsequent destruction, Gregory couldn’t help but nervously eye the door to his office.

As prudent as it may have been to activate the anti-eavesdropping enchantments, Gregory was confident that Chadwick and his associates had a more direct means of framing in mind. Besides, having activated the enchantments twice already in a single day was quite suspicious, and a third time was likely to result in an immediate visit from security to explain the reasons why.

With who knew how much time remaining, Gregory turned his attention to sabotaging Chadwick and laying the groundwork for potentially exposing him for the spy he was.

It was incredibly easy to alter the surveillance entries on Rachel’s file. Listing the coordinates provided by his contingency, Gregory added some generic surveillance data from the other previous attempts but made sure to manually input Rachel’s mana signature into the readout for the snippets of footage. Dense enough to signal that she was nearby, but not quite close enough to provide an exact location.

Very nearly forgetting, Gregory hurriedly removed the star chart projector from his desk and wiped its data. Nervously tapping his right foot and watching the door, Gregory altered the records of the lost Calliope worlds to not only display one hundred percent occupation by the Tiamites, but to cease actively updating that information as well. Hopefully, it would earn Mark a head start before anyone else potentially noticed the discrepancy and alerted the Tiamites.

The Tiamites arrogance would likely prevent them from noticing a problem for quite some time anyway, but Gregory was trying to do what he could with his higher level of access while he still had the opportunity to do so.

Racking his brain for what he should attempt next, Gregory nearly had a heart attack as he spotted the crystal wafer still sitting in his drawer. Not so much afraid of what would happen as a result of breaking that particular rule, he was far more worried about Chadwick uncovering the deception in Rachel’s file.

However, as he prepared to break it between his fingers, the repeating string of coordinates cycling across the surface of the crystal changed and now showed a different message entirely.

[Hide in shoe. -Peabody]

Momentarily perplexed, Gregory nearly had a second heart attack when he heard the heavy footfalls of security growing closer. Momentarily torn between prudence and a leap of faith, Gregory hurriedly stuffed the crystal wafer into his shoe.

At just that moment, the door to his office burst open and six incredibly large and menacing security officers entered with batons drawn.

Before Gregory even had a chance to say a word the first security guard had crossed the room and delivered a mind-shattering blow to the side of Gregory's head and knocking him off his seat. “Yer under arrest,” the security officer grunted maliciously as he rolled Gregory onto his front and viciously yanked his hands behind his back, “Under suspicion of breaking divine law, your rights have been suspended till further notice!” Gregory's hands were then cuffed two degrees too tightly before the security officer dragged him bodily to his feet.

With the world swimming in front of his eyes and unable to even string two thoughts together, Gregory was only vaguely aware of the officers roughly patting him down and pawing at his clothes before he blacked out.

Regaining his senses, Gregory cringed as he realised that his suit had been soiled by vomit. He was being held in a sterile chrome room devoid of furnishings and even basic amenities like a toilet or sink. Stripping off his suit, Gregory winced with each movement as the shift in blood pressure sent fresh waves of pain radiating from the left side of his head. Using his suit to dab at the bile crusting his mouth, Gregory wondered how long he would be left within the cell, and why they had not stripped him of his personal belongings.

“Aren’t prisoners at risk for choking themselves with their laces?” Gregory wondered aloud, recalling the mention of such a thing during instances of Prime entertainment broadcasts. Suddenly remembering the crystal wafer hidden in his shoe, Gregory shut his mouth and worriedly glanced around the cell, concerned that he was giving the security guards ideas if they were listening in.

Nauseated by the sudden motion, Gregory gingerly held his head with both hands to steady himself and very carefully inched his left hand towards the epicentre of the pain. His fingers made contact with sticky wet hair and came away stained with blood. “Great...” Gregory grumbled self pityingly and went to pull the handkerchief from his waistcoat only to find that it was gone. Slightly more annoyed by the loss of his monogrammed handkerchief than the blow to his head, Gregory glared balefully at the door to his cell.

After a few minutes, the cell door opened and a pair of security officers entered and held their batons at the ready, “You going to come quietly? Or do you need another whack?” One of them asked with a chuckle.

Gregory Folded his jacket and resisted the urge to mouth off and provoke another beating, “I’ll go quietly,” he agreed.

“Good,” the guard sounded disappointed, which gave Gregory a spiteful sense of satisfaction.

Walking between the guards, Gregory entered a long corridor made of the same shiny chrome material. He was led down the corridor and through a large pair of doors into a large room made of the same chrome material again. Having no recollection of a room like this existing in the building, Gregory couldn’t rule out the possibility that he had been taken off-site while unconscious. Considering asking the guards, Gregory quickly ruled out the idea as it would almost certainly result in another blow to the head.

After what seemed close to an hour of waiting, a large section of the far wall parted to the side and revealed a scorched grassy plain and a knife-like Tiamite transport ship. The ship resembled an ornate dagger, made of polished black metal with crimson highlights, it was intended to inspire fear in those who laid eyes upon it. Powered by mana and sophisticated arrays of enchantments working in tandem, the design was almost a millennium old.

With their enemies, everyone who was not a Tiamite, determinedly maintaining feudalistic levels of technological development, the Tiamites had been given no cause to develop their magical technology any further. This had caused the Tiamites to fall into a state of developmental complacency. It was a shame that complacency couldn’t be exploited due to the monumental egos of the gods.

It didn’t matter how many pantheons had fallen, each truly believed that they would be the ones to triumph. With rough estimates of the raw military might the Tiamites could bring to bear in terms of manpower, Gregory knew there was no contest whatsoever. To say nothing of the Tiamites’ technological advantage and repugnant strategy of softening worlds in preparation for invasion by deploying endless hordes of monstrous mana constructs.

A small group of Tiamite soldiers left their ship and haughtily took up positions nearby, their eldritch rifles held at ease. Fully encased in form-fitting metal armour with the freedom of movement allowed by a bodysuit, the Tiamites armour was coloured in the same fashion as their ship. The chest and abdominal segments of their armour were tooled in such a way to give the impression that all of the soldiers were phenomenally well muscled. Detailing abdominal muscles and pectorals Gregory personally felt the soldiers inside did not come close to possessing. Similarly, the face masks bore the same strong-featured face with a large nose and uniform length curled beard that shielded the neck.

“Move!” The security guard to Gregory’s right demanded and gave him a rough shove, nearly knocking him to the ground.

Gregory winced and began slowly walking towards the Tiamites and their ship. “So this is Chadwick’s play,” he muttered despondently. Gregory could just about imagine Chadwick standing before the board offering them a compromise to avoid the firm paying a penalty for breaking its neutrality. It was so simple, just give them the rule breaker so they could enact their own justice. In one easy play, Gregory would be swept from the board and eliminated, while Chadwick would provide his masters with intel on Brida and Rachel’s whereabouts.

Unable to see the Tiamites’ faces through the masks of their helmets, Gregory could only imagine that they would be pretty pleased with themselves regarding how things had turned out. Limping slightly because of the crystal wafer in his shoe, Gregory wondered what exactly the self-important doll had intended when directing him to hide it there in the first place.

“Get in the ship, scum,” one of the Tiamite soldiers ordered, aiming his rifle at Gregory’s midsection.

Gregory looked to the boarding ramp and sighed dejectedly. For the briefest moment, he considered charging the soldiers and trying to bowl one over, and maybe get a hold of a rifle. That thought evaporated as a primal desire to survive, even just an hour longer, quashed such notions and set him walking to the hatch that allowed entry to the ship.

Now standing in front of the boarding ramp itself, Gregory’s primal instincts had a change of heart and now demanded that he try to run instead. Grimacing as he considered the oppressive gloom of the interior, Gregory just couldn’t bring himself to take that first step.

That was alright though, because one of the soldiers seemed all too happy to help, giving Gregory a rough shove in the small of his back. “Move it!” He growled menacingly, jabbing Gregory in the back with the tip of his rifle for good measure.

Sure enough, that got him moving again.

Gregory was directed to the rear of the ship and into an austere cell.

The soldier that had corralled him up the steps pressed his gauntleted hand against a panel on the outside wall and a web of steel rods filled the empty space in the wall, sealing Gregory inside. Now completely disinterested in Gregory, the soldier returned towards the front of the ship and began speaking with his fellows.

Taking the opportunity to move the crystal wafer to somewhere less painful, Gregory quietly removed his shoe and shook the wafer out onto his palm. To his surprise, the message had changed again.

[Place this side up on the floor. Say our name three times.]

Confused, Gregory sneakily tried to glance through the web of bars to see whether the soldiers were paying attention to him or not. Unfortunately, he could not get a good enough view and quickly gave up.

Following the instructions, Gregory placed the wafer on the floor of his cell and leaned in close. “Peabody, Peabody...Peabody-AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!” Gregory cried out in alarm as the floor shimmered and suddenly gave way beneath his feet, sending him pitching forward into the darkness.

Hitting solid ground far sooner than he expected, Gregory was amazed to find himself in one piece and sitting on the floor of what looked like an underground prison.

“Hello,” a familiar voice greeted him warmly, and an even more familiar looking face accompanied it as the owner circled around from Gregory’s peripheral vision. “Please let me help you up,” his doppelganger insisted, leaning down and offering an exaggeratedly spindly spider-like hand. “We have much to discuss, you and I...”