“The mouse symbolizes this eternal underdog. It’s kind of like the dragon slayer. By giving the mouse armor, I think it stands this fighting chance to take on the hostile world of cats.” -Jeff de Boer-

  _____

  “How’s the chat going?” James asked the mountain sized bakery shaped like an old woman, currently sitting in the least comfortable position humanly possible on the second step from the top of an unfolded rough wooden staircase.

  ”Slow.” Kiki gingerly slid down to let her feet meet the carpeted floor. “Gotta tell ya kiddo, this feels like I’m just getting in everyone’s way.” Her eyes, mismatched in color as they shifted between multiple different versions of whoever she was, slid past James to look at the stack of stuff animal heads peering around the hall corner at her. “See?”

  James covered an uncontrollable smile with the back of his hand. “Nah, they’re like this with everyone.” He said as he held back a laugh. “Also they have homework to do!” He rounded on them like a swaying snake, eliciting a burst of laughing motion as the children scattered from their hiding spot. “But seriously. You’re not in the way like you think you are. We’d let you block anything to talk to a dungeon like this. You want us to shut down a highway as a condition? I’ll do it!”

  ”Do not.” The harsh snap reaction reminded James that Kiki was, literally, a grandmother. That was the kind of tone that came from years of saying the same thing to her own kid’s dumb ideas, and he knew it.

  Shrugging as if he was disappointed to not be building a truck barricade, James continued. “Look, Clutter… this place matters to me. To all of us. And we want to be able to say that. And also hear whatever Clutter has to say to us, too. This has never happened before. I don’t think anywhere; the other pillars seem like they’re actively repulsed by dungeons, and hell, even you are for anywhere else, right?” Kiki nodded at him, and James matched the gesture. “Right. One of a kind, once in a lifetime thing. More important than anything else.”

  ”And my throne for this is a ladder.” Kiki cheerfully griped.

  ”I think Sarah’s trying to find some kind of padded runner she can put down for you that’s securable. It’s amazing what you can order on the internet.” James mentioned. “But seriously. What… what’s she been saying? Is Clutter a she? Is that even right?”

  ”Don’t think it matters to her, to tell you the truth.” Kiki gave a small shrug. “Mostly she says hi. I try to say hi back. We’re working on it. I know she’s a kid and she’s not trying to hurt me, but if I weren’t a tired bag of bones before, boy am I after an hour of this.”

  James had kind of heard this from Sarah, but he had assumed it wasn’t literal. “Just hi?” He tried not to sound disappointed.

  “Well, she also says hello, hey, and ‘hiiiiiii’ with more I’s than I’s planning to count.” Kiki smiled as she looked down at one of her aged and gnarled hands.

  ”Heh. Okay, yeah, that sounds like Clutter, even though I’ve never heard her.” James sighed. “I’d trade you powers just for that, honestly. Being able to say hello to some of the places I’ve been… just to let them know I appreciate them. Or sometimes to swear at them. I’d love that.” He shook his head and crossed his arms, not dwelling on what he didn’t have. “How about you? How’re you feeling? Being magically drained by a dungeon isn’t painful is it?”

  Kiki shook her own head, charms in her braided hair clinking. “I’m fine kiddo, don’t worry about me.” She huffed as she knew that James was going to keep worrying about her. “Okay. You want a reason not to worry?” He nodded as she threw him a lifeline. “The… whatever you want to say it is, the call, it fades when I’m this tired.” She sighed. “I’m still what I am. I still feel like I’m losing my mind. But at least like this, nothing is flinging me around the globe into fights and weddings.”

  ”Hey, I can appreciate that th… the… sorry, weddings?”

  ”Well when two people love each other, very much-“

  ”Kiki.” James gave her a mock glare.

  The nascent old pillar laughed at him. “I’m only half joking kiddo. When people get married and they really do love each other… okay, you know how a person is a sort of like a ball, right?”

  ”No?!”

  ”Well they are. A big ball of stuff. Ideas, wants, needs, favorite foods, movies they hate, inability to drive. It’s all in there.” Kiki explained, holding her hands out to indicate a sphere. “When you get married, and mean it, it’s like taking two people balls, and mashing them together. Until they sort of… become something new.” She looked up at James. “I know when marriages are going to last, is what I’m telling you. Doesn’t happen often.”

  He pressed his eyes closed, trying to not think of how grim that was, or what it said about the state of how society recognized official relationships. “I’m glad you’re getting to keep more control.” James said honestly, ignoring all of the other stuff. “I hope we can make this a solution that doesn’t require you sitting on the steps all day. And also, I really wanna thank you again.”

  ”Nah, don’t mention it.” Kiki waved a hand. “Or you might end up owing me your soul.”

  ”Really?” James perked up.

  Kiki glared at him. “Too happy about that one, kid.” She said.

  He laughed, leaning against the smooth painted drywall of the old house. “Fair. Anyway, I just wanted to check in. Might be gone a few days, don’t worry if you don’t see me for a while.” She nodded at him, giving James a thumbs up, and they spent a little longer just chatting about nothing in particular. They talked about the weather rather than dungeons or the Underburbs or the pillars. Something that let Kiki feel like a normal old lady for a little bit.

  James almost made it out the front door without a stuff animal ambush. But they were apparently collectively upset with him for reminding one of the adults within earshot that they did in fact have homework to do. The harmless assault, as well as the chat with the world’s ontologically nicest grandma, had left him in excellent spirits as he’d biked back to the Lair.

  _____

  “I want to come along.” Was the first thing Arrush said to James when he was let into the ratroach couple’s apartment.

  ”I… I mean, you can, sure.” James answered tentatively. “I have a few concerns about you in particular joining me though.” He said as he followed Arrush in through the narrow hall from the front door. The whole apartment smelled like nutmeg from a row of candles sitting on the tall ledge of the kitchen counter, and while it was still a bit of a mess, both Arrush and Keeka had gotten into better habits about keeping their home clean. It just took a while to really click that it was their home, and that it was only to their own benefit to make it a nice one.

  Keeka was sprawled on the long L-shaped couch that the duo had covering the corner of their living room. Blue orb refitted headphones covering his ears without smashing his antenna down, eyes closed as he reclined listening to music, the black furred ratroach was currently in a state of undress, which was the amusedly polite way James’ brain processed that he was entirely naked. “Oh.” Arrush flushed as he realized.

  ”I’ll avert my gaze.” James said, holding a hand to his eyes like a swooning Victorian as Arrush grabbed a blanket off the floor and spread it out to toss over Keeka, his extra arms making it look enviously easy. The smaller ratroach startled as the cloth touched him, eyes snapping open, only to startle more when he realized James was there. “Hey Keeka!” James said, watching all of this through his fingers.

  ”S-sorry!” Keeka squeaked out, pulling the blanket up against himself as he curled on the couch.

  James rolled his eyes as he dropped his hand back down to his side. “I have seen you naked before, it’s not scandalous to me. We have public baths, and we share them all the time! I’m really trying to snap as many bonds as I can with the shittier aspects of human society.” James explained. “Anyway, hi! Your boyfriend wants to come to Alaska with me!”

  “What?! No!” Keeka’s misplaced shyness washed away like mist under the sun as he rolled forward onto his knees, all eyes locking onto his partner. “It’s cold and you’ll die!” He declared.

  ”Okay that’s a little dramatic…” James cleared his throat as he shifted from one foot to the other. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, it is cold. But you know it’s cold here too, right? It’s ten degrees and raining basically all the time now.” He watched Keeka’s muzzle shift as the ratroach tried to start a sentence, before James realized something. “Wait hang on, when’s the last time you left the Lair? Do you know what the weather is?”

  “…not Alaska cold.” Keeka chittered. “Oh! There’s monsters there.”

  ”Like moose or something?” James asked. “I learned recently that moose sometimes just hang out on the bottom of bodies of water to eat, like, seaweed or whatever. Which means they’re the only land megafauna that are prey for killer whales. Nature is weird.”

  ”See?” Keeka pointed a pair of accusing claws toward James. “You’ll be eaten by a moose!”

  James held up a hand, mouth open and about to protest, when Arrush decide to cut in. “Alaska isn’t a dungeon.” He said. “It’s not like the Sewer. I just… won’t go near moose.” The towering ratroach, still taller than James despite slumping slightly, turned to look back at him as he half-perched on the coffee table in the center of the room. “And I want to help. And spend time with you.” The last part was said in a quiet stammer, like he was embarrassed to say it.

  ”Aw, buddy.” James followed after Arrush and leaned forward to wrap the ratroach’s upper body in a hug. “Okay, I get that. I really do. But I’ll have help, really. And the more people we have, the harder it’ll be to not stand out, and that’s especially true for you. I love you, but you know you’re a little distinctive.”

  Arrush made an irritated clicking sound in his chest. “I hate being distinctive.” He whined.

  From the couch, Keeka stretched forward to lean on Arrush’s back. ”I like you distinctive!” He said. “I also like you alive. And you’re still hurt!”

  ”Yeah, that’s my other point.” James motioned to where one of Arrush’s arms was currently in a cast from a simple and entirely mundane kitchen mishap, before gently running a finger around the padded bandage on his jaw that covered up stitches that were definitely from an Underburbs injury. “I am, inexplicably, against all odds, the least injured person in the Order right now. And that means it’s my job to get stuff done, while you relax here with Keeka, wait for your arm to heal, and don’t get kicked in half by a moose.”

  ”…moose can do that?” Arrush looked like he was even more concerned about James leaving on his own now.

  James pushed back, looking down into Arrush’s eyes and cupping his newest boyfriend’s angular muzzle where the long snout met his chitin-banded neck. “Yes.” He said lovingly. “Moose are fucking terrifying. That’s why I plan on avoiding all of them.” James leaned in and kissed Arrush, the ratroach returning it eagerly.

  From over his shoulder, Keeka wore a glowing blue crescent of a smile. “Can I have a goodbye kiss too?” He asked coyly.

  James didn’t overthink it. He just broke away from Arrush and rapidly shifted to give a much less intimate kiss to the end of Keeka’s maw, soliciting an eep from the surprised ratroach. “There ya go! Now you have to tell Anesh about that, cause I already said goodbye to him and Alanna, and I won’t see him for days!”

  ”Text him!” Keeka’s voice was muffled as he rolled back onto the couch, bundling himself into an embarrassed and surprised ball under the blanket.

  ”I dunno, this seems funnier.” James drawled, enjoying the easy way that he got a chittering laugh out of Arrush. It was so different, so divorced from how and what these two used to be. He’d had a conversation with Arrush a while back about dating at all, and been thinking about the ethics of it almost every time they were in a room together ever since, but one thing that made James feel like it was at least the best conditions possible was that neither Arrush nor Keeka were quite so afraid anymore. They were lively, they had voices and knew how to use them, and they laughed more than they cried. The value of that, the way it made them feel like whole people who were at least nominally prepared for a relationship, it went a long way for him. “Anyway. I’ll be back in a few days, and we can hang out more then. I wanna make stir fry for everyone. No real reason,” he answered the unspoken question in Arrush’s eyes, “I just really want stir fry, and I know I’m not gonna get any in Alaska.”

  ”Y-you can teleport?” Arrush pointed out, not ready to let go of the hug he had James in just yet.

  James shrugged. “I mean, sure, but telepads actually are a semi-finite resource. I don’t want to get in the habit of burning them for trivial stuff. I’m not JP!” He considered for a second, one hand disentangling from under Arrush’s shirt to tap a finger on his chin. “Though JP might be a bad example. Every time I learn about what he’s up to, it turns out he’s scarily efficient.”

  Making a soft chitter, Keeka poked his head out, black fur and dark chitin blending in with the rest of the couch. “I could watch him.” He offered seriously.

  ”Nah, I trrrrrust… him…” James pulled a face. “Holy shit that’s hard to say out loud. JP’s my friend though. Also he’s in Alaska! So I’ll watch him for a while!”

  ”Good. Someone should.” Arrush said, finally letting James go and standing up fully. “I will… miss you. I want to go, but… but I understand. Thank you for listening.”

  James beamed at him. “I will always listen. Unless I’ve been deafened by explosion again.”

  ”Again?!” Everything Keeka ever learned about James just made him more concerned for the human.

  Unfortunately for him, James left without explaining. Just reminding Arrush that Alanna still wanted to meet up with him for their morning jogs, and that Anesh wanted to take Keeka out for dinner later that night. It was, perhaps, a strange life he’d found himself in; playing the role of courier between different branches of his own romantic web. But it poured a warmth into his chest at how, bit by bit, all of them were clicking into place in each other’s lives.

  Which was good, because James suspected Alaska was going to fucking freeze him solid.

  _____

  New York also did a good job of bringing down James’ temperature. It wasn’t freezing, but it was the kind of unpleasant humid cold where he felt like if he let his hands out of his jacket pockets for even a second, they’d lose every scrap of progress he’d made warming them back up. Zhu wasn’t even manifesting; the navigator claiming that teleporting across the country felt like cheating, but James knowing somehow that even Zhu was just displeased with the climate.

  Fortunately he didn’t have to be outside. Unfortunately, the building he was in was a low income apartment structure in the south part of the Bronx. And while James didn’t actually know New York’s social geography that well, he knew that this towering giant of a building that could have fit his whole apartment complex back home inside it twice over was cold. Colder than outside, somehow, which felt impossible.

  This was one of the last stops on a task that James had been undertaking for the last few days, and it wasn’t getting any more fun. He was at his best when he was either being mysteriously cryptic, or when he was showing off. Not when he was delivering bad news.

  The apartment door he ended up in front of was on the eighth floor. Unmarked except for a number, with no decorations or extras around it. Just a plain old door, with a big scratch in the paint at knee level. James knocked firmly but politely, and set about waiting.

  A minute later, the sound of footsteps on the other side let James know someone was coming. But before opening the door, they called through it. “Who is it?” the woman’s voice was a woven tapestry of anxiety and anger.

  ”Ms. Ricks?” James replied, putting his gaze on the door’s peephole. “My name is James Lyle. I’m here to talk about Adrien Dorman.”

  There was a moment of quiet before the voice answered him, clearly upset. “He’s not here. So if he owes you something-“

  ”I’m not a debt collector.” James reassured her. “I did have some questions, but no one owes me anything.”

  The door cracked open a few inches, stopped by a chain lock and revealing a thin dark skinned woman with her hair pulled up in a fountain of curls. “So what do you want?” She asked James without having to yell.

  ”Just to talk.” James promised. “I’ve got some questions that you might not even know you have answers for, and I think I might have more information about what happened than anyone told you. So we can trade.” He made the offer with a sincere little smile, treading the line of being a little too casual.

  ”You want to know about his gang. You a cop?” She asked him sharply.

  ”I’m an anarchist.” James answered bluntly.

  Whatever answer the woman had been expecting, that wasn’t it. She blinked at him before shutting the door, and James heard the chain rattle before it was opened all the way. “Get in here. Don’t blow anything up. And call me Rene.”

  ”Not that kind of anarchist.” James sighed as he accepted the invitation into the small apartment.

  The place was cramped, with the small floorspace of the living room mostly taken up by a couch and a big TV, and young children’s toys scattered across the floor. James had an instinctive desire as he followed Ms. Ricks into her home to offer to clean her kitchen as they passed it, but he refrained from saying that out loud.

  Rene sat on the couch, motioning to a much less comfortable wooden chair at the low kitchen counter for him. “Fine, let’s talk. So talk, mister anarchist. What happened to my man?”

  ”In general?” James sighed. “I think someone collapsed a building on him, and I don’t know if he’s alive or not. We’ve been trying to find out, but…” he went quiet as he saw her nodding, lips pursed, the woman that couldn’t be older than him clearly struggling to hold back tears.

  ”Yeah.” She said eventually with a small gasp of air. “Figured it’d be something like that.”

  James wanted to give her a moment, but he had a pressing question. “The thing that gets me is, I’ve been talking to a lot of people in your situation lately.” He turned his palm upward, as if weighing the question. “And I’m curious if you know why this one is weird?”

  ”Because I figured, isn’t it?” She said, sniffing as she wiped tears from her eyes. “Because no one else remembers. I tried asking some of Herc’s other guys. People I’d met at parties, you know how it is.” James didn’t, but he didn’t think disillusioning the poor woman about his social life would help much. “I thought they were screwing with me. No one would say Adrian’s name! They just pretended he wasn’t real! Him and Jess and Herc and everyone else! Like it never happened! Even our boy doesn’t remember his dad!” Her eyes, wet and outlined in red, locked onto James. “But not you.”

  ”And not you.” He nodded. “Now, me, I can remember because I’ve got outside help. But you… you’re naturally immune. That’s not something we see very often.” James sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t honestly think it would be better if you’d forgotten, because it’s happened to me before and it sucks, but it’s… easier. In a way.”

  Rene had been showing signs of being afraid of him since the topic had come up, but something in the way James said that cut through the fear. Like he was legitimately sympathetic because he’d suffered the same fate. “What happened? I mean what really happened. Not some story.”

  ”Your… partner? I dunno what word to use.” James got an annoyed wave from Rene and decided to just go with that. “He was with Herc and about twenty other members of that gang when they took a job from a… very dangerous person.”

  ”What kind of dangerous? Dirty cop dangerous, or hired by a millionaire to kill someone dangerous?”

  James opened his mouth, face scrunching up in concern as he thought about that for a second. “Neither of those. Worse than both. But… uh… was that normal for Herc’s crew?”

  ”No, I just listen to a lot of true crime podcasts.”

  ”Oh!” He relaxed, almost laughing. “Okay. No. Way worse than that. I mean supernaturally dangerous. And before you give me that look, remember that you are the only one who can remember.”

  ”…aight, fair enough.” She sniffed again, wiping the back of her hand on the edge of her eye and taking more of her makeup with the motion. “So they screwed it up and died? No, you said you were there. Did… did you kill him?”

  The question was asked quietly, but James saw the way that she shifted back and dipped the hand that was behind her in between the couch cushions. He didn’t particularly feel like getting shot, so he opted for direct honesty. “No. In a way we were there on the same side. Their employer betrayed… uh… everyone all at once, honestly. The building came down before we got everyone out. I honestly did try to save as many people as possible.” James exhaled tightly. “And now I’m here. Because… well, honestly, I had been hoping to get information about Herc’s employer for that job. But no one knows anything.”

  ”You waited this-“

  Rene’s harsh words were snapped off early as a door slamming open and a much younger voice filled the apartment. “Mooooom! I’m done with homework, now can I play PlayStation?” A young boy’s voice rang through the apartment as the thudding of feet raced toward them. “Mom! I- oh! Hey! Are you mom’s boyfriend?” The kid skidded to a halt as he saw his mother on the couch and James standing leaning against the support beam that made up part of the wall between it and the kitchen.

  ”I am not.” James replied with a smile as the kid, maybe twelve at the most, nodded in approval. “I’m…”

  ”He’s a friend of your dad’s.” Rene told her son.

  ”Oh.” The kid lost interest almost right away. It was clearly painful to her, and James felt a spike of anger that something out there, probably a dungeon or pillar in this area, had done this to the poor guy. Taken away not just his memories but his ability to care about his dad. James didn’t like his own father, but at least that was a personal choice. “So can I play video games now?”

  ”Yeah, sure. Just go wash your hands first, and-“ he was already running back toward the apartment’s bathroom. “Sorry.” She told James.

  ”Nothing to apologize for.” He replied, voice tight. “I’m sorry for coming in and ruining your day like this. So I have two things to make up for it.”

  ”I don’t want your fucking pity.” She snapped at him. “I want him back. Fourteen years. No matter how shitty things got, we were in it together. And… and now he’s just…” Rene turned away again, snarling to try to keep back the tears.

  James nodded. “I don’t know exactly how you feel, but I understand a little.” He said quietly. “Until I figure out how to punch death in the dick, I don’t have a way to fix that part. But I can make your life easier in the meantime.”

  ”What-“

  ”Mom! You’re on the good part of the couch! Moooove!” Her son cut her off again, barreling into the conversation. “Why is your friend still here?” He asked.

  James laughed as the woman pressed her face into an open palm before shooting him a deeply apologetic look. “I’m just delivering some good news.” He put on a false front of cheerfulness for the young boy. “Here, let’s give him the couch, I need you to sign a thing anyway.” James jerked his head toward the kitchen table, covered in two backpacks and a scattering of unopened mail.

  Rene was back on guard again. “I’m not signing away anything to you. You might say you know some stuff, but we just met, and I don’t trust you.”

  ”Of course not. You’re not signing anything to me, we’re just updating your lease.” James said.

  ”My… what?”

  This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

  ”Whether they remember of not, the family of those who are gone deserve restitution.” James intoned, voice more serious than he had been for the whole conversation. “We can’t be there for everyone, yet, but this? No one else is going to help, because no one even knows. And we can handle that at least. Also, it was convenient because everyone who mister Herc worked with lived in this building.”

  Rene nodded. ”Yeah, well, when it’s cheap, it’s easy to get your crew together. And to find new kids who hate it enough to… what’s this?”

  ”Your new lease.” James said as he set the paper in front of her.

  ”It’s one page.”

  “It’s four, but it’s very simple lease.”

  ”Why do you have my lease?”

  James smiled at her softly. “We bought your building.” He said. “Your rent is now nothing, for as long as you need it. There’s a number on the back page you can call if you ever need anything, or if you want to relocate to somewhere else we have housing, though options there are limited right now.”

  She stared at him blankly, the lines her tears had carved in her makeup standing out on her cheeks as James delivered the news. “You… you can’t just do that!” Rene shouted at him. “Someone’s gonna notice! People will… will…”

  ”It might shock you to learn, but long term consequences of my stupid ideas are actually someone else’s department.” James told her. “Have a slightly better life. Take care of your kids. Oh, and on that note…” he paused only for a moment before committing to a potentially bad idea, and pulling a purple orb out of his pocket to fidget with. “I’m hesitant to offer this to your son, because he’s still pretty young. So I’m going to tell you what the option is. And hear me out all the way before you yell at me.” James met her eyes and she nodded, still stunned by the thin document that freed her from the ruin of living paycheck to paycheck. “In a few years, when he’s older and more emotionally complete, I can put a creature in his head that, well… they’ll be able to fix his memory. Hopefully.” James said. “It requires responsibility, and we’d have someone check in every couple weeks, because having an infomorph friend is a bit like walking around with a missile launcher in your back pocket. But…”

  ”Are you some kind of goddamn wizard?” She demanded of him. “No… How much of this is one stupid joke? Just fucking with me to see what I’ll do?!” Her voice rose over the sound of digital gunfire from ten feet away where her son had turned the volume up on his game. “Prove it.” She demanded.

  James nodded. “Okay, but you aren’t allowed to freak out. Zhu?”

  ”What’s-“

  ”Y’ello.” Zhu’s voice echoed slightly as he poured out across James’ body, his manifestation coming easily as feathers filled up with dusty orange light before a half dozen eyes lit up across the limb that wrapped comfortably around James’ own arm. “Why’d you need- ah. Ms. Ricks. I’m sorry about everything that happened.”

  Rene nodded dumbly, staring at Zhu’s form with eyes that didn’t seem to be processing what was going on. “Thanks.” She muttered. “Uh…”

  ”It’s a lot, I know.” James sighed. “Sorry, the jump from ‘things are bad’ to ‘magic is real’ is hard.”

  ”Magic is real?” Rene asked, and James nodded patiently. “You are a wizard?”

  ”Not… exactly. Sort of. It’s a lot of complicated bullshit and some of it’s not really public. But I do have the ability to make companions a little like Zhu here. They’re not people at first, but even before they grow up, they can deal with the thing that makes people forget.” He met her eyes. “I don’t know if one would even survive in you, honestly.”

  That, at least, she could latch onto. “Fix what happened to him?” Rene demanded. “Let him know his dad?”

  ”Yeah. Though you’ll have to wait a year or two for your son to grow more, and after the infomorph grows up it’s their choice if they stick around.” James didn’t want to mislead her. “They end up as people. So you need to be good to them.”

  James had said that she might be immune to an infomorph, but the real problem was that if he gave Rene an assignment, then it would be alive before her son would be ready for any mental modification. In theory, it was safe enough for kids; Ava had no issue after all. But Ava was kind of a unique case among unique cases. And putting aside any medical complications, Ava also lived at the Lair where she and Hidden were under constant supervision and couldn’t cause too much damage.

  ”…I’m…” Rene turned away, looking toward the living room where her kid had just said some words into his headset that James was pretty sure were banned as war crimes. “Hey! Watch your language or you’re watching your PlayStation go off the balcony!” She yelled.

  ”Sorry mom!” The kid didn’t sound sorry. But he did pick less wretched swears for a while.

  She sighed and turned back to James. “I’m not a good mom.” She told him. “I’m not gonna be a good mom to another kid.”

  He nodded. “I know exactly how you feel. It’s up to you, and it’s just something to think about for the future.” In all honestly he would have rather just had Planner screen for them both, and for everyone else in this building. But fighting memeplexes was a lot more active work than most forms of infomorph combat, and Planner was already starting to be stretched thin. This was a more permanent solution. If she said yes.

  ”You know what?” Rene slammed her palms into the table. “It can’t be worse than this. Do you have to do anything now? Does it hurt?”

  ”It does not.” James grinned as he rolled the purple orb across his fingers before pocketing it again. “And again, you can change your mind whenever. You can also talk to your son about it, this isn’t a secret.”

  ”So. Now what?” Rene asked as she scratched her arms like she was trying to figure out how to make James leave her apartment.

  James shrugged. “Now, you get back to living your life. We’re around if you have an emergency. Then when your son grows up a bit, we’ll meet again, and well figure out what works best to give him something like Zhu.”

  ”I’m different though.” Zhu posited. “Yours won’t be as pretty as me.”

  ”Zhu please.” James palmed his own face. “You’re killing my gravitas here.”

  ”Why are you trying to have gravitas anyway? Just be normal and she’ll get it.”

  ”It helps most people!” James protested. “It’s a good intro point because it makes it seem like I know everything and it’ll all be okay!”

  Zhu stared up at him from his multiple eyes. “That sounds like lying with extra steps.” He said. “But also you do know enough to do this safely, so why not just say that?”

  ”I did just say that! The gravitas helps people believe me!”

  Rene’s head was swiveling between the two of them like she was watching a tennis match. “I’m not gonna end up talking to myself am I?”

  ”Please. I’m much smarter than him.” Zhu commented. “Oh, you mean… no, you’re not going to go crazy. Or turn into James.”

  ”And I am serious about helping.” James said honestly. “It’ll just take a while. Mostly cause we don’t like giving dangerous responsibility to kids.”

  Rene looked over to the back of her son’s head poking over the couch as he cheered for his team’s victory in the game he was playing. “Then it’ll be worth it.” She said bluntly. “It’s not fair. None of this shit is fair. But at least he won’t just be erased.”

  James nodded as he pulled his jacket closed, nudging Zuh back into demanifesting with a mental request for some privacy. “If he is alive, he might not remember either. So I swear, if I find Adrian, I’ll let you know. But…” James winced. “No false hope please. It’s likely he’s dead.” He met her eyes with a grim shake of his head. “I’m sorry. The most I can do is let your son remember him, and give you a little financial boost.”

  ”If you find whoever did this to him, will you kill ‘em?” Rene asked as she walked James to the door.

  “I am certain that I haven’t got a chance in hell of killing the Chain Breaker.” James said honestly.

  ”…Oh, shit, Chains? That’s who you’re looking for?” She gave him a shocked look. “I know her! Herc met with her every couple weeks at Fuego!”

  ”What.” James felt every single word he’d ever learned flee his brain at the news. “The… what?”

  Rene nodded. “It’s a club over in Manhattan. I can look up the address for you? That’s who did this?”

  ”Yeah. T-thank you?” James was still reeling. He’d completely given up on getting information out of this venture, he was just trying to fix up a bunch of people’s lives. The fact that the Chain Breaker just used her moniker openly and apparently liked hanging out at a latin nightclub was news that was baking his brain like an oven. But then, if everyone else in this stupid city was forgetting names and faces all the time anyway, maybe Rene was the literal only person who even knew about this.

  James sent the address over to Ben, along with an explanation, and got a sting of unprofessional profanity in reply from his friend before he teleported back to the Lair. Hopefully he could get the rogues in Alaska freed up soon so they could go check that out.

  _____

  Before leaving, James rearmed more fully than he had since the Underburbs.

  Different shield bracers, these ones about half charged instead of his more depleted ones. His own handgun passed back to him having been run through the upgrade ritual twice, along with the three loaded magazines he had for it that would hopefully carry the upgrade forward when he reloaded them with his bracelet. A shiny new status quo earring to go with the outfit.

  A new suit jacket and pants, tailored to fit him. It was the most comfortable clothing James had ever owned and he was right back where he was when he’d been given the upgraded bracers last time, feeling like he didn’t deserve anything this nice. It had a concealed pocket for his second set of fake documents, the first set of forgeries being the immaculate FBI badge he gotten along with the suit. Tino told him the suit wasn’t imbued, because there was an ongoing issue with people ending up surprisingly nude when they did that, but the tie would let him hear if anyone was aiming at him, which James felt was an absurd power, but had apparently taken one of the blue orbs so large it was uncopyable.

  The tie was copyable though. Mostly. It didn't break down into the same sized blue orb though, which was slightly annoying.

  He got his skulljack braid back loaded with a new encrypted communication program, and also cleaned, which James appreciated. He would have done it himself, but whatever he’d killed in the Underburbs attack had gotten slime and goop in the most awkward little nooks of the thing. He was told it had been dunked in a ‘purification vat’, which James was confident was some kind of isopropyl solution, but which sounded cooler anyway.

  And then, James and Zhu both got something special. Copies of a coin that James had brought back himself from the last Verdigris delve; a smooth silver square with a rounded hole in the center and a tiny dot of sapphire implanted in it. The Order’s first level three spell slot from the Garden.

  It was also an enormous pain in the ass, because it wasn’t normal.

  They had no baseline level three coin. Instead, they just had copies of this one, which worked, but the ‘bonus effect’ was that when you cast a spell from that slot, it would also cast another level three spell at random. James’ mind, honed on years of tabletop RPGs, started instantly looking for ways to abuse this, or just make it useful enough to tweak the dungeon’s nose, but he rapidly started running into the same issues that everyone else who’d been practicing with it did.

  If you only had two slots, it wasn’t random, so that was good. But you had to want to cast the spells simultaneously then. And even if you did, this wasn’t… really a bonus? The Garden’s spells didn’t take effort or cost anything to actually cast. So this was only a restriction. And if you had more than two slots, then you were risking wasting a huge amount of time and effort when it fired off something that you didn’t want it to.

  So the plan was to take exactly one of these coins, and when the Order got more level three slots, everyone with these slots would put a spell in there that they would never think about again, filling it like magical concrete and getting it out of the way. Assuming they didn’t go mad thinking about the line item on their ethereal character sheet.

  So the last few hours before James left were spent in quiet contemplation along with Zhu as the two of them read spellbooks and got progressively more bored.

  The two new spellbooks, Island Valiant and Amber Icon, were neat, but not worth the time right now. James had one cast of Island Valiant, the level one spell letting the caster understand their immediate area. He felt it would be handy, but wished he could see what it could do at higher upgrades. Amber Icon just made a drink. Summoned the whole thing, glass cup and all. It was fine. It wasn’t a health potion. His disappointment continued.

  What they were actually filling their level three slot with was Altercation Imp Ward. Because for twenty two minutes of focus, they could have the second level spell that would redirect accidental injury. And for another twenty two minutes, they could raise it to level three, filling their newest magical magazine, and change ‘accidental’ to ‘more or less indirect’.

  ”We’ve got, what, half an hour left?” Zhu asked afterward. “We could… I dunno, get the knife one?” He kept his voice low so as not to disturb the other wizards.

  ”I’ve got the knife one.” James groaned. “And I don’t think I can do more of this. My head hurts. This sucks. I am not a meditative person.”

  Zhu’s feathers wilted along James’ skin. ”That might be my fault, sorry.” The navigator sounded legitimately contrite. “Look. Hey.” He tried to catch James’ attention as the human packed up the books they were using and checked them into their secure drawers. They weren’t alone down here, though, and James didn’t want to have this conversation where it might mess with one of the people dumping their eighth hour into a single spell. “We should talk about me.” Zhu said as James left the reading portion of the vault.

  ”Hey if you think you made me want to run screaming from having to sit still, you’ve got an ego bigger than your feathers.” James quipped.

  ”Shut up.” Zhu’s laugh was like crunching gravel as the dusty orange light of his form flared around James’ body. “But hey, really. I’m worried I’m messing with your head. I know you’re not brain damaged despite getting slammed into a car door three times last week-“

  ”Once.” James counterpoint wasn’t that reassuring.

  Zhu ignored his friend and prime host. “I’m trying to… why aren’t you taking this seriously?”

  Picking his way carefully through the central hub of Research, James in rapid succession dodged a passing camraconda doing balance tests with one of the new arm packs, a human frantically taking two of the shellaxies on a walk, and finally the group of Researchers that were clearly preparing to ask him to settle an argument. “Because I don’t care.” James told Zhu happily, once they were in the clear.

  ”That should probably bother both of us.” Zhu’s central eye scowled up at James from its place on his arm.

  But there was just a shrug in reply. “Look, I love you. I trust you. We’ve had this chat before and nothing has changed.” James told his companion. “I’m not gonna be safer without you anyway.”

  ”You have a dozen protective items now.” Zhu’s attempt to argue was weak, and he knew it.

  James did too. “And you’re one of them! Unless you, personally, do not want to come with me. Just say the word and you can hang out with Arrush or Alanna for a few days.”

  ”…do I have options for people who aren’t constantly boning their partners?” Zhu asked.

  ”Buddy, you’re stuck with me, you should know the answer to that.” James laughed as the duo made it to the elevator back to street level. “Wait, does the sex bother you that much? Shit, I can-“

  ”Nnnnnno.” Zhu slowly rolled over James’ attempt. “Kind of the opposite. At least when I’m manifested. I blame you for this.” He accused James.

  ”Oh. Uh… neat?” James didn’t know how to take that right now. So he left it as he kept moving. Both of them had subconsciously decided to use the spare half hour to get lunch, Zhu’s desire to go somewhere melding with James’ hunger to the point that those thoughts weren’t really separate people anymore. It was just them, together. Not a hive mind exactly, but what happened when you shared yourself. “Hey, where are we going anyway?” James asked Zhu.

  Zhu pointed, a lance of orange light visible only to them coming from the center of his taloned limb where it emerged from James’ own arm. “That way!” He declared. “And when we get there… I’ll tell you what it was the whole time.”

  ”Delightful.” James said, and meant it. “But also you’re good for more specific instructions later, right?”

  ”Oh, now you have concerns, now that you know you might end up getting lost in the wilderness.”

  ”Yes, that is when I have concern, yes.” James nodded. “But seriously. Thank you. For… caring.”

  Zhu didn’t say anything for a while as they left the Lair and started following the route he’d set down along badly laid out and unwalkable city streets. It wasn’t until a few blocks later that he found what he wanted to say. “I am what you let me be.” He told James. “I guess that’s why I’m worried. And why I want to go anyway. Because it might be important and useful.”

  ”Mood.” James answered with a knowing nod. Joking, but not at all making light of the vulnerability Zhu had opened up. “Also we don’t have that long before the group teleport. How far are we walking here?” He asked as they stood waiting for a crosswalk. When Zhu’s only answer was a hesitant hum, James just nodded in a much more sarcastic but equally knowing way. “I’m turning around.” He declared.

  _____

  The place James met JP was a restaurant called Salty’s that was part bar, part high class meme. They served something called a lemmie smash burger, which James ordered even though he wasn’t that hungry just because he respected the hustle. They also looked like the sort of place that was assembled with artisanal care; the bar made up of polished bits of vehicle scrap all welded together into a Mad-Max-esque art installation, the floor smooth wood in a herringbone pattern, every little booth and table different in some artistically expressive way.

  It was legitimately very cool to know that places like this existed everywhere, though James did have one important question as his friend sat down across from him at the table. “So JP.” He opened with, not bothering to ask why JP was walking out of a bathroom that he’d never walked into. “I’m wondering why, exactly, I am sitting here in Fairbanks.”

  ”Because you wanted to wedge yourself into my operation tracking and prying apart Priority Earth.” JP told him, making a hand signal to the bartender that ended with some kind of drink in front of him without a word exchanged. “We talked about this.”

  ”We did talk about this. And I got an update on a lot of stuff that was going on. I did not get an update on why we are in Fairbanks.” James glared at his friend, one elbow propped on the table so he could cock a finger gun toward JP. “In fact, I distinctly remember being nowhere near this part of the state last time we were here. I met you in… Anchorage? You made me hike through the mountains!”

  JP nodded. “Yeah, and then they moved camp. They’re currently sitting twenty two kilometers almost directly south of here.”

  ”That seems… unwise.” James ventured with raised eyebrows.

  The noise of the busy restaurant around them ebbed as JP grinned. ”Well. Sure. They’re kinda dumb. But also no one is really looking for them. So sometimes they park near bigger cities so they can resupply and recruit.” JP’s eyes slid past James with an intent that made James want to follow his gaze. “Like right there.” He said, hand flat on the table as he pointed across the busy restaurant to a booth in the corner where two people were listening to an unseen man speak. “Edgar White. One of their main recruiters.”

  ”Wait they’re here?” James glared at JP as he dropped his voice. “What are we doing here?”

  ”The same thing I’ve been doing for months. Tracking, snooping, profiling, that kind of thing.” JP shrugged. “Sartori is keeping us hidden, they can’t notice us. Their whole group is devoid of infomorph defenses actually.” The small infomorph coiled out of JP’s sleeve to wave a small glowing blue fin at James.

  ”Seems like that would make it easy to have done something about this by now.” James offered.

  JP didn’t allow the comment to be taken as offense. “There’s a lot of them. And sometimes things just don’t work on them for no reason.”

  ”That’s not devoid of defenses JP.”

  ”Ah!” JP grinned slyly. “But it’s not intentional! That’s not defense, that’s terrain. And I’m figuring out how to navigate it.” He shrugged. “Anyway, Ed over there usually pulls in a few people every major stop. He talks a big game about living in tune with the land, and it works on some people who think of it like an adventure. Then the more sinister stuff draws them deeper, and keeps them there. By which I mean, they just don’t leave, and I’m working on the why.”

  James nodded. “You’d have experience with that I guess.”

  ”I’ve never started a cult and you fucking know that.” JP huffed petulantly at him. “Oh, you mean the… right. Yes. I am our cult expert.”

  This was not inspiring confidence in James. “Okay. So they’re here now. JP, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re keeping apace with this, but I need you to fill me in fast because I was under the impression their camp included buildings that were somewhat stationary?”

  ”So was I. Then they moved them.” JP sipped his drink, two fingers extended off the glass to point at James as he reclined. “This is the first time they’ve moved the whole camp and not just sent people out for supplies. Wolfpack team is still with them, by the way, but the separation is clear now. Harlan clearly got them back on side; they’re just mercenaries.”

  ”Joy.”

  ”Hey, don’t scoff.” JP said it with a smile but his words had an undercurrent of viciousness to them. “They’ve done exactly nothing for months, and they’re getting paid for it. That’s a win for us. Tap these idiots’ resources.” He sighed dramatically, and suddenly James was looking at his normal friend again. “So. The details. There’s thirty eight people in the group, four of them are relatively new. Despite having jobs, there doesn’t seem to be a single leader figure, and at no point have I caught them talking about ideology except when they recruit.”

  James nodded. “Did the wiretaps stick with them when they moved here?” He asked.

  ”It’s not… that’s the wrong… oh whatever.” JP shook his head dismissively. “And no. I haven’t snuck new ones in yet. Well, that’s not actually my speciality. I haven’t gotten Delph to sneak them in yet.”

  ”Right, where’s the rest of the rogues here?”

  ”Elsewhere.” JP told him cryptically. “We don’t meet up if we can help it. The fewer ways we can be connected the better.”

  ”So this conversation…”

  JP was rather unwilling to admit that he had just not thought of that. Which was extra stupid, because he regularly did meet in the Lair with other rogues, he just hadn’t thought of James in that context. “This conversation is because I like this bar. It has atmosphere.” He said. “Now. Before the Underburbs, our team briefly made contact with McHarn in Anchorage. I suspect the man is smart enough to be headed this way, but I don’t know exactly where his team is. They also don’t read as FBI anymore with the glasses, but they’re pretending.”

  That news got an incredibly satisfied grin out of James. “Ooh, excellent. You know, if we keep this up, we can end up with more people pretending to be feds than actually working for the government.”

  ”The dream.” JP replied without inflection. “So. How do you want to play this?”

  That was different, and James raised an eyebrow back at JP in response across their table. “You’re asking me?”

  The reply came back in a pained voice that still held so much of JP’s normal characteristic smoothness. ”Look,” he said, “I can tell you the favorite hockey team of half these guys. I can tell you where they came from and what their threat ratings are. I can brief you on everything we know about their armament, their magic, and their tactics. And if you want, I can outline our current plan for keeping up this investigation. But we’re playing it safe, and I cannot actually promise that we’re going anywhere with this. This isn’t my specialty. My specialty is charming people into not committing arson, or forming potion export contracts with deep sea divers. I don’t-“

  ”What.”

  ”-don’t do action plans against ecoterrorists. Especially not ones that-“

  ”No, JP, stop.” James had that feeling again. The one that came up every time he heard about what JP was up to from someone else, except the headache was stronger this time. “What was that about-“

  ”-that aren’t doing the ecoterrorism part.” JP finished. “So, you tell me how you want to play this, and we’ll drive off the cliff holding hands.”

  James made direct eye contact with JP as he dug in one of his pockets, pulled out a small foil wrapper, cracked it open, extracted the ibuprofen inside, threw it in his mouth, and downed the last half of his glass of water. “I hate you.” He said. “How come I never get to talk people out of arson?”

  ”That’s what you care about here?” JP asked. “You can have this job. I mean, you probably would end up doing this job if you were deployed to a small town for four months and had to talk to people. I know you like a lot of people but your social skills suck, and you’d probably end up dive tackling someone instead of charming them out of setting anything on fire.” JP wasn’t really talking to James, it felt like. He was staring off into the middle distance, eyes half glazed as he looked toward the scrap metal art of the bar. Reminiscing about events from a week ago. “I’m turning into a character.” He muttered. “This was never the deal.”

  Something in James broke. “What deal?!” He demanded with a burst of laughter. “The one you made at the crossroads to always have suits that fit you?! Who made you a deal JP?!”

  “Don’t worry about it.” The words were an old, old inside joke between them. JP had been saying that to everyone in their friend group for over a decade now. It just hit a little different now, when it was about… whatever this was. “So. Thoughts?”

  ”Thoughts.” James echoed, focusing on the actual problem at hand. “I feel like not being under time pressure here is a good thing, but I do want to cut them off from recruiting new people before too long. But more importantly, I want to know what their actual motivations are. Not just the stuff in their pamphlets, but what these actual people want.” He let out a long breath. “Their magic, I dunno, I don’t need to own everything in the world. That’s whatever. Knowing how they made the hypnoplant is a high priority, knowing if they’re planning any more bombings is too. Everything else is kind of secondary, right?”

  JP nodded. “More or less my assessment too.”

  ”Your assessment.” James hid a snicker and got a questioning stare back from his friend. “Sorry, it’s just… I never see this version of you. You’re never professional around me.”

  ”Habit at this point, I suppose.” JP said, like it didn’t bother him. “The thing is… wait, you’re James, I can be blunt with you. Okay. I don’t even know if these guys are worth our time anymore.”

  That wasn’t what James had expected. ”Seriously?”

  ”Seriously.” JP nodded. “Oh, they’re killing investment bankers? So fucking what? James if you had the opportunity you would feed an investment banker into a woodchipper and hope an orb came out but not be disappointed if it didn’t. I know, I know, collateral damage. But this feels like we’re turning into cops, and I know I used to spend a lot of time with the upper crust, but I’m not that far from you in terms of contempt for the system.” He shrugged and slid his glass away from him on the smooth surface of their shared table. “I don’t know man. This feels off.”

  James nodded. “I think…” he said, turning his head to catch sight of the Priority Earth member standing up from the booth across the restaurant, along with the two smiling people he was talking with, “I think that we need to know more. I’m with you that I’d rather manage our priorities, no pun intended. But like you said, we don’t know what these guys want. And we know that they have money, guns, a fucking Wolfpack hit team, and no scruples about blowing up anyone they don’t like. I want to know what happened to them, and I want to know if it’s possible to… I don’t know, fold them into the Order. Or at least form a lasting alliance with them that can be good for everyone.”

  ”Optimistic.” JP said it without a trace of sarcasm or venom. “How do you want to do that?”

  ”Well, you’re gonna hate it.” James said as he watched their quarry leave through the corner of his eagle eye. He didn’t need to watch JP at all to see his friend nodding already in agreement. “But I feel like the best way is to just ask them.”

  ”And by just ask them, you mean…?”

  ”I’m gonna go get myself recruited.” James said, standing from his chair and leaving money for his meal under the plate while giving JP a nod. “Cover me if this goes wrong.”

  JP closed his eyes, lips pursed like he was considering teleporting to the Caribbean and never coming back. But then he nodded. “Yeah.” He drawled out eventually. “I thought you were going to say something like that.”

  James looked back at the hand JP had extended. “What’s this?”

  “Your name is Wallace Goalman. You go by Wally, never Walt. You met at University of Arizona, never had a class together, but kept chatting at parties. Remember to ask him if he remembers other people’s names. You grew your hair out when you quit the logging industry, and you’re surprised to see him here.” He rattled off the identity as James took the curated wallet from him, and then gradually realized JP’s grabby hand motion meant that he needed to put his own wallet back. “Your ten year coin is in there, so don’t take his offer of a drink. But you’d love to catch up if he’ll be in town long.”

  “…are you a wizard.”

  “Yes.” JP answered instantly. “Now go do something stupid.” And then, as James sauntered off, he added in a quiet tone, “And good luck.”

  There is a discord! Come hang out with us.

  There is a wiki! It's starting to become helpful.