Chapter 1.2 v2

The transfer as a whole was barely perceptible and completely silent. Only a slight sensation of movement, as if you were one step lower, and a bright light. To avoid going blind, Mike closed his eyes. A few seconds and the bright light were gone. Mike waited a little longer and then opened his eyes.

Mike was standing on an inscribed pentagram identical to the one in his house. The pentagram glowed faintly, and around it was a protective shield, much more powerful than the one in his house, translucent milky in color with small wavy shimmers. This shield could withstand almost any intruder.

Behind the shield was a spacious hallway, round about fifteen meters in diameter and five meters high. The floor, walls, and ceiling were all of silver metal. There were no windows. The hall was illuminated by several lamps on the ceiling.

Mike was on the first floor. From the hallway, there were several passages and two steps up to the second floor. Below him was ground zero technical floor, and above him was the third, also technical floor. The whole thing was a secret lab shelter that Mike had started building over 40 years ago.

Secret labs and shelters were not unusual. Many influential individuals, clans, and organizations had them. Some joked there was an entire secret city hidden beneath the capital. Though Mike could say with certainty that this was not the truth.

But what made Mike's lab so different from the others was that it wasn't underground. And not even within the borders of the capital. It was located in a subspace that scientists commonly referred to as the Void. The Void was discovered a long time ago, but never found a suitable use for it. Most attempts have involved using Void for teleportation over long distances. Since Void was airless and lacked gravity, it was thought that it would reduce costs and speed up teleportation over long distances. In theory, it did, but in reality, it proved impossible. The coordinates in space and subspace did not match. Space in Void was constantly and chaotically distorted. There were no straight paths.

Mike got the idea to experiment with Void after he read in the de Graaf's clan library some diaries of failed experiments of his ancestors. Then there were several years of preparation and seven years of torment. Had it not been for his mother's support and Mike's innate tenacity, he would have given it all up long ago. But in the end, he managed to create a relatively stable and relatively safe channel of connection to subspace. And then came the idea of setting up a lab there. Mike's family helped at first, but then they began to consider "playing" with Void a dangerous gamble and strongly dissuaded Mike from continuing. Mike virtually agreed, but he didn't give up the idea of setting up a lab. Secretly in his spare time, he continued building the lab. Over the next seven years, he was able to build a lot, and the lab was almost finished.

The only problem Mike couldn't solve at the time was the safety problem. If the subspace link was broken, the lab would be cut off from space. And the only one who could restore the link was Mike, but he couldn't be in two places at once. So, 25 years ago, he was able to find a solution to the problem. Or rather, she found him.

"Efi, take the shield down," Mike asked. A few seconds passed, but no change followed.

"Efi..."

Another ten seconds passed.

"No," came the reply from somewhere behind him. Mike turned around quickly. A female figure was levitating beside the shield. Or rather, a female demonic figure - tall, over two meters, dark red scales, horns, sharp nails, and a tail, black eyes with a red pupil. There is only one problem - the demoness is incorporeal, translucent, like a spirit or a ghost.

"I'm sorry," Mike said in an apologetic tone, bowing his head.

"You left me alone for a whole year."

"I didn't know it would turn out that way."

"You said the trip would only be for three or four months. I almost died of boredom," said Efi circling the shield. "You didn't even get me presents."

"You can't die, you're immortal," said Mike quietly.

"What?" Asked Efi haltingly.

"I just arrived in town," said Mike loudly.

"You could have brought it with you beforehand. Where are the books, newspapers, journals, old scrolls, information crystals at last?"

"I was in the desert with the nomads. They don't have newspapers or journals, just sand and lots of trouble."

"Hmm..." Efi continued levitating in a circle, carefully examining Mike. Then she froze, her gaze drawn to his back. For a few seconds without moving. Then she turned off the shield. "There you go, you brought something after all," she said as she flew over to him and ran her finger down his back. Mike felt a piercing chill run down his back. "Show me," she whispered in his ear.

"No," Mike replied firmly, took a step forward, and then turned around. "I'll draw you later."

"Tch, I'm not interested in this body painting," she said, then added. "But still draw it now."

Mike didn't notice how a sheet of paper appeared in her hands. Even though she was ethereal, she could contact and manipulate things. He took the paper from her and went to a small seating area with a few tables and chairs by the wall. The drawing itself took no more than five minutes. When he finished, he handed her a sheet of paper.

"Happy?" He asked her. Efi studied the drawing carefully.

"And what do you need it for," she asked, poking her finger at his drawing. "Air, control. Such shamanic magic has limited practical application. Only in the far north and, yes, in the desert…hmm."

"It's a gift. I just took advantage of the opportunity that presented itself. And it even helped me. And you're wrong. It isn't tracked or felt, which can be extremely helpful."

"An irresistible force of nature. Only very weak."

"Okay," said Mike, "What's the current status of the base?"

"Alive and healthy, not disembodied yet," replied Efi.

"I'm serious," Mike said. Efi sighed theatrically, raised her hand, and after a while, a translucent crystal plate the size of a standard sheet - a crystal tablet - flew up to her.

"You can see for yourself," she said, and then added, "An irresistible force of nature. Just not that weak."

"The laws of physics and magic are a little different here," Mike replied. Taking the crystal tablet, he asked: "How's the reactor?"

"Sixty percent stock. The tablet has everything," she nodded at the tablet.

Mike activated the plate, sending an energy pulse into it. It glowed, and a drawing of text appeared on it. Mike began moving his index finger across it, occasionally pressing something. The picture and the text kept changing.

"Reactor - 60%. Stocks…Production…1,341 crystals grown, 16 tablets. Incidents…"

After a while, Mike looked away from the tablet. He opened his leather briefcase and pulled out his tablet. Then held it out to her.

"There's something in here that will interest you, too," he said. "And at the same time, make a copy of the information on this tablet. I'll be bringing some supplies to replenish the reactor today. I'll take probably two hundred crystals and four blank tablets with me."

It took Mike an hour and a half to do everything. The return transfer was much easier. No crystals and no blood, Efi did all the managing.

"Mike, don't forget to bring me information from the last year. And you can grab another fresh soul, preferably a child," she said when Mike was already transferring. He almost choked. The last thing he heard was a ringing laugh.

As Mike transferred, Efi became abruptly serious. She clenched her hands into fists. Sharp nails dug into her body. Efi raised her fists to get a better look. But there was not a drop of blood, not a feeling of pain.

"I hate this stupid hunger. I hate this stupid body. Fifty thousand years have passed. Nothing has changed."

Efi dropped her hands and unclenched her fists.

"But most of all, I hate knowing that a fresh soul won't be able to satisfy even a drop of hunger. Stupid hunger."

After standing motionless in one place for a while longer, she then went to read the materials that Mike had left behind.

"At least I'll get some distraction."

When he appeared in the hallway, Mike quickly looked around in fear of intruders in the house. But there were no intruders. He sighed heavily.

"No fresh souls."

Returning to the second floor, Mike changed into a military uniform. A dark green uniform with a full skirt, semi-caftan, with silver embroidery and two rows of silver buttons, with a black high standing collar and a black cuff on the sleeves with captain's epaulets. Dark green trousers tucked in over black leather boots. Blackcap with a coat of arms. Black leather harness with a silver badge with a coat of arms. Saber on the right side. On the hands are thin leather gloves.

In a leather briefcase he put some papers, letters to send, crystals, and tablets. Glanced at the clock it was a quarter to eleven, went down to the first floor and out into the street, closed the door with his key, and turned on the security scanner.

Mike waited for a free passing carriage and stopped it. "Is the carriage free," he asked the driver.

"Yes, sir," the young gray-skinned young man answered him.

"To the General's Square."

"Very well, sir. That'll be two silver coins."

"Here," Mike handed him the coins.

It was about a 40-minute drive to the square, but almost as soon as they pulled into one of the main streets, they stopped.

"What happened," Mike asked.

"I'll go find out, sir," the guy answered him.

Quite quickly, a line of a dozen other carriages formed behind Mike's carriage. There were many gawkers on the sidewalk, who were being pushed back by the city guards. A few minutes later the carriage driver returned, a little pale, probably from what he had seen. Mike became curious.

"Sir, the guards are about to clear the passage and we can move on," the guy said to Mike.

"And what happened there?"

"Murder, sir."

"Murder?"

"Yes."

"Could you be more specific," Mike asked him.

"There's not a good story, sir. A noble couple was strolling along the sidewalk, or maybe shopping somewhere. But the noble lady was unlucky, she stumbled and fell on the road under a passing carriage. The coachman reacted quickly, and the lady was unhurt. Only her dress and handbag were damaged. Her companion blamed the carriage driver. A dispute resulted. And the noble lord decided to punish him himself without waiting for the guards. He turned out to be a strong magus. And roasted the poor fellow carriage driver to death. And there were a couple of his friends in the carriage. They took it as an assault and attacked the magus. The result was two more dead bodies. Then the guards showed up and now they're sorting it out," the guy sighed.

"How did you know all that?"

"People saw everything."

"I see," Mike replied.

After a couple of minutes, the traffic on the street began again. And as Mike drove past, he saw the scene of the tragedy. The obtrusive carriage had already been removed. There were three bodies on the sidewalk nearby. Two of the bodies were badly burned. The third, a young guy by the looks of it, had a huge hole in his chest the size of a fist. The gray color of his skin gave him away as an immigrant. And Mike immediately smelled the sweet scent of roast flesh.

Nearby, a few yards away, stood a respectable couple, a young lady in an expensive dress and her companion, a middle-aged man in a stylish suit. Beside them was an officer of the city guard, and both men were flailing about the lady, who had evidently become ill, for she was covering her face with a handkerchief. Several other guards were making a protocol and questioning witnesses.

"Eighth rank of power," said Mike, looking again at the middle-aged man in the stylish suit.

"What?" The carriage driver interjected.

"No, nothing," Mike answered him.

A large General's Square was in the center of the capital with circular traffic and a park area in the center. It housed several ministries - the Ministry of Order, the Army, the Navy, and Foreign Intelligence.

"Sir, where do you want me to stop?" The driver asked as they approached the square.

"The Foreign Intelligence building," Mike answered him.

"Very well, sir."

The traffic in the square was quite heavy. It took a while to get to the Foreign Intelligence building, and they even had to wait in a small queue.

"Sir, we have arrived," the driver said as he jumped out of his seat and opened the door for Mike.

"Thank you and have a good day," Mike said, getting up.

"Good day to you, too, sir," the driver replied, bowing his head slightly, then returning to his seat jerked the reins and the carriage drove off.

The Ministry of Foreign Intelligence had tens of thousands of employees, both at home and in foreign countries. There were Foreign Intelligence branches in every port and border city. Because of the specific nature of the work, the ministry had an extensive network of agents in all the nearest and largest foreign countries.

In the capital, the ministry had more than 400 employees in a dozen departments.

Mike began walking up the wide stairs to the building. It was quite crowded, some of them Mike knew, and some of them he greeted.

The building itself was tall, five stories high, of dark, almost black stone. The entrance to the building was divided into two parts for employees and visitors. Well-armed guards have been always on duty in front of and inside the building. Mike headed toward the employee entrance. Inside is a small lobby with three security checkpoints and uniformed guards on duty.

"Good afternoon," Mike turned to the vacated security guard on duty. " Michael de Graaf, Internal Investigations Department, returned from a long assignment."

"Documents," a young girl with glasses and a lieutenant's uniform asked him.

"Here," Mike held out his documents to her.

The girl carefully examined his documents, and then him. There was a rather strong magical energy emanating from her glasses.

"Weapons, forbidden items," she asked, lingering her gaze several times on the leather briefcase.

"There is a permit," Mike held out the permit.

"Signature, please."

"Of course," said Mike and quickly created a signature.

"You may pass," she said, handing him the documents back.

"Thank you," Mike said and went through the access frame. The frame made a long-drawn-out sound and glowed red.

"Go to room 143 on the first floor to renew your pass," the girl added as Mike passed the Frame.

"Okay. Have a good day."

He found room 143 quickly. Inside at the desk sat an elderly woman in a captain's uniform.

"Good afternoon," Mike addressed her. " Michael de Graaf, Internal Investigations Department, back from a long assignment. Need a pass renewal."

"Documents and a pass," she asked.

Taking the pass, a small metal plate with a yellow crystal closer to one edge, she inserted it into the machine that stood on a nearby desk. She pressed a button on the machine. Mike felt a brief surge of energy. After a couple of seconds, she pulled out the pass, made notes in her journal, and then handed Mike back the documents and the pass.

"The pass is valid for 30 days, then you need a renewal," she said.

"Thank you," Mike said and walked out of the room.