Interlude IX - Magnanimity of the Modern Man - VI

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  Friday morning, November the 23rd, Viper woke up immediately sensing something was off.

  He couldn't put his finger on it. He got up, got dressed, enjoyed the view outside his luxurious apartment that Malton provided. It was way too nice for his tastes, but at least the view was good. He never ended up sleeping in the bed though. Can't get a wink in somethin' that fuckin' soft.

  But he trusted his instincts. They rarely steered him wrong. He trusted Rook's instincts even more, and hers were saying that Malton couldn't be trusted. Viper wasn't quite to that point yet, but he could tell there was something coming.

  He entered the little bookstore, ignoring the cheerful greeting of the shopkeep, and descended down into the lab. The other three were already there, and the day's work had already begun. They were measuring Napowsky's specific range of magical reach, as close as they could get, and Kleiner was also tracking the air between Napowsky's brain and the object he was trying to move. Every single inch with every sensor he could get his hand on, just to see if they could sense magic itself in the air.

  Nothing had worked so far.

  "What's the end-game on this one, Cor?" Viper asked quietly while Kleiner shouted impatiently at Napowsky.

  "Artificial generation," murmured Malton, while he stared at a tablet he'd hooked in wirelessly to the main console. He liked to keep moving while he watched the stats come in. Kept his mind active, as he said.

  "Like... doing magic from a computer?"

  "In a sense, yes." Malton scrolled through his tablet to a different screen, showing a diagram that Viper couldn't make heads or tails of. "I want to be able to create a self-generating system that will be able to use magic in the same way we awakened can. Our main concern right now is the human limitation. If we lose concentration, the spell breaks or worse, it backfires. A computer doesn't lose concentration. I want to remove the human factor."

  "Makes sense," said Viper. He winced as Napowsky dropped the cup he was supposed to be levitating, and it shattered on the ground. "Why're you usin' a mug?"

  "Consequence." Malton glanced up for a moment at the sound of the mug shattering on the ground, then shrugged and returned to his tablet. "If there's no consequence, Napowsky doesn't seem to put in his full effort. I'm not about to descend to medieval era encouragement, of course, but having something of Kleiner's on the line does seem to be motivating them both quite well."

  Viper smirked. "Does he know you've got whole fuckin' pallets of those damn mugs?"

  "Evidently not." Malton smiled. "Regardless, that's not the primary goal of today. This was just a warmup while we waited for you to arrive."

  "Oh?"

  "Kleiner!" Malton called, setting down the tablet. "Let's move on, shall we?"

  Kleiner, who looked like he was about to start beating Napowsky with his clipboard—which would have ended with Kleiner getting a broken nose, or much worse, if Viper knew his men—faltered, glancing over at Malton. "Are you sure, sir? I think we almost had something that time."

  "I don't want to delay any longer. This is far more important."

  "What's more important?" asked Viper, while Kleiner and Napowsky started clearing away a space in the center. Still surrounded by sensors as usual, but not a single other object beside.

  "Control, as I said," said Malton. He went back into the corner of the room, near the exit to the living quarters, and tapped at the wall safe. It was triple-locked, again with voice, retina and palm-print, in addition to a passcode.

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