Slay

Mostly Just Computers

A message alert popped up on the computer.

That wasn't the odd part. The odd part was that it wasn't from any of the programs the computer's owner had downloaded. It wasn't from the Internet. As far as this computer was concerned, it had no discernible origin.

The oddest part was that this was one of the most secure computers in the world.

Robyn smiled as she explored the capabilities of her newest toys, complete with some very innovative software. The sack was ingenious. She was more tempted to keep it than she had anticipated. It was a pity, for Santa, that he hadn't thought to combine the Naughty and Nice Lists with the sack as a sort of built-in security. She was still unsure about the minutiae of the magic's working, but she could already see several ways she could potentially have done it. 

For someone who held untold power at his fingertips, Santa's security was laughably terrible. If she had been in charge of it, no one would have been able to do what she was doing now. Of course, she doubted that anyone except herself would even think of it.

She reached into the sack one last time.

All around the world, a thousand hands typed on a thousand keyboards. Videos were uploaded and watched by millions of viewers. News networks and radio stations dispatched urgent emails to their scriptwriters. The writers of a dozen different online publications pressed a dozen Upload buttons. 

Knowledge of the North Pole's magic spread like wildfire across the globe.

The Internet, and its near-instant communication, left time zones in the dust. Half the world was still sleeping, but wasn't that always the case? There were plenty of people to see Robyn's message, and she chose the right ones. Within half an hour of the sack arriving at a reputable news network to be examined, the North Pole's magic and its potential was breaking global news. Morning news in Australia, evening news in America, but news nonetheless.

At the North Pole, one of the elves in Mission Control scrolled through the tsunami of posts and publications.

'Several countries may already have sent missions to the North Pole in an attempt to secure magic for military use...'

'Magic opens up thousands of possibilities in terms of technological advancements, healthcare, research, communications, travel, space exploration... Santa's sleigh is living proof that magic can be used to travel faster than was thought to be possible...'

'...the most noteworthy innovation of the century...'

'...the new electricity, the new nuclear; the ultimate power and the most valuable resource, threatening to tear the world apart.'

The elf pushed his chair away from the desk, plastic wheels spinning against floorboards. "It doesn't look good," he remarked to his coworker.

"What's going on? She didn't - she's told everyone, hasn't she?"

"Yeah, and the worst is, looks like they believed her. She's got everyone obsessed with getting their hands on our magic."

Santa Claus had never exactly been a secret, but he had made an effort to keep a low profile and avoid being taken seriously. Now, however, Robyn had exposed tangible, concrete proof that magic was here. It was useful. It could take mankind to their wildest dreams and beyond. And it was unguarded; free for the taking.

They had known for centuries that magic could start a new world war. One fought over magic, with magic. Humans looked at power and thought weapon. So the elves had assisted Santa in keeping magic out of human hands, doing trivial good deeds, until somewhere along the lines precaution had become tradition and, well, you can't argue with tradition, can you?

They had kept it secret. Kept it hidden, kept it safe, unlocked only a fraction of its potential. Magic yearned to be free. It wanted to be used.

Now the secret was out.

And they were coming.

The director of the US Army's paranormal-activity division returned to his desk, coffee in hand, to find a notification on his computer. It read: Check your email.

It didn't seem to have come from any of his programs. In fact, most of the programs on his computer had desktop notifications disabled. It was, however, the latest in a long line of notifications, all with no apparent origin, getting more and more impatient.

Unsurprisingly, he found the whole thing suspicious. However, he opened his email. There was nothing new in his inbox; nothing since the usual waffle about investigating the paranormal being a wild-goose chase and threatening to cut their budget. Again.

He stared at it for a moment, sipping his coffee, wondering about the unusual notifications. It was then that the number on his spam folder pinged from 736 to 737.

Sighing, he clicked on it. A stack of near-identical emails greeted him. The latest one turned out to contain a set of links, apparently leading to news networks. It was captioned with 'Check the news. I think you might be interested.'

He didn't risk following the links sent to him by an unknown person. Instead, he opened a new browser tab and checked the top news stories, from well-known, reliable networks. Article after article scrolled down the screen.

His coffee cooled on the desk, forgotten.

After a few minutes, he made a phone call.