Jaci Stone - Act 03

"I'm sorry that I brought you back. I'm sure you wanted to...shuffle off this mortal coil."

Natasha snickered. "I got to hear that first-hand, that line. I wasn't ready to leave and I am glad you brought me back. We're going to catch all those bastards and..." she dropped her voice to a whisper, "Feed them to the children of Ceres."

"Sure."

Grace needed everybody back to the table for round three, and I turned my attention to the Sanderson family. They had been relatively quiet, even trying to keep to themselves when Grace wasn't chatting their collective ears off.

"Graham, can you tell us about the enchantment that you use for your town?" I asked.

Graham nudged Bree, and she shot to her feet. She looked around the table, her gaze finally setting on Grace, who gave a gentle nod.

"Our town, Laurel, which is in North Carolina, really isn't enchanted anymore. The major entry points are actually warded, prompting the invitation and escort. The edges of the property, the forests and waterways, are protected by technology and have been for a number of years."

That caught everybody's interest, especially Artemis and Gemma's. Something to protect property without having to use magic was definitely high on his Christmas list.

"Go on," I prompted.

Bree held her right hand out over the table, drew it into a partial fist index finger down, and closed her eyes. In her hand appeared a cylinder a meter long, with irregularly placed holes on the surface.

"This is what we use to keep the casual hiker or intentional trespasser off our property. We converted the whisper spell into technology and placed them about the edges about three hundred meters apart."

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Artemis start to sweat. "Bree, is that device active?"

"Of course. It shouldn't be..." She ran her fingers along the edge of the cylinder. Artemis sighed and took a deep breath. "This device isn't set high enough to affect immortals. What is going on here?"

"Artemis and Gemma are friends and here at my request," I replied.

"Father, I told you this was a bad idea," Marlo growled.

"You haven't heard everything," I said. "Artemis and Gemma have technology that can duplicate magic..."

"So do we," Marlo snapped.

"They have technology which can sense where non-magic portals have been opened," I countered.

"We can figure it out!" Marlo shouted.

Grace started to come to my defense, but I waved her down. "Then you haven't been listening," I said. "These people, these villains, are kidnapping magicians!"

"Then they were lazy," Marlo said.

Natasha shot to her feet, but stopped from saying anything.

"Enough, Marlo," Graham said, looking at me. "And shut up. Bree, continue."

"But father..."

Graham turned his head to look up at Bree. "What was your promise?"

"Yes, father," Bree mumbled.

I heard a snort, and saw Tatiana stifling her laugh. Evidently she was surprised by Bree's petulance, as the child she had once acted like.

"Sometimes a simple whisper isn't enough," Bree sat the cylinder she was holding onto the table and called up another object. She quickly made the same motion that she had used on the other cylinder to shut it off. "We get the occasional soul that actually embraces the 'haunted forest' routine and soldiers on. For those we have the equivalent of a compulsion spell for them to face."

"If I may?" I asked, looking at Graham.

"Sure."

"Graham, this is very good for us. I appreciate you coming here and showing us different ways to protect ourselves."

"You're very welcome," Graham nodded.

"Bree, why are you so hesitant to share this with us? This isn't about competing in a market, this is about protection for magicians, all magicians."

"We just want to be left alone. If we show you how we protect ourselves, we lose. It won't be long before some nosy mortals," she indicated Artemis and Gemma with her hand, "Or some snobby wiccan comes nosing around."

"The whispers and compulsions don't affect wicca," Paula said.

"You would feel it if we turned it all the way up," Bree said. "I brought these particular devices here because they were at the minimum setting. If I turned them all the way up, everybody in a kilometer-wide circle would feel them. That isn't accounting for our altitude."

"They still wouldn't affect me," I shrugged. "But this isn't some pissing contest. I would like to copy this technology and possibly modify it for our use."

"No!" Bree shouted.

"Then let me convey you home. Pick up your sticks and let's go."

"You can't take four through Halavana," Bree protested. "And not at altitude."

There was a twinkle in Graham's eye. He knew that his children would only be impressed by a display of power. "Bree, Marlo, pick up your sticks. PLEASE."

They weren't expecting a compulsion, especially one so powerful. Graham stood of his own volition, smiling as he did so.

"Graham, do you have a photograph of some place in your town?"

He pulled out his cellphone and showed me a picture of a house, probably his. "You're going to show us something interesting?"

"Take hands," I said. They did. "Graham, put your hand on my shoulder when I turn around." I took my step forward and we were there.

"That's very interesting," Graham said after I turned around. "Bree, Marlo, give her your rods."

They were still in shock, but held out their rods anyway. "Graham, thank you for this."

"All I ask is that you share any variations of the technology with us."

"I certainly will," I nodded. I took the rods from Bree and Marlo and made my return trip.

"Do we have some new friends?" Grace asked.

"Too early to tell. Artemis, Gemma?" They rushed over and took the rods from me, Artemis almost drooling. "As you saw, be careful how you switch those on."

"Certainly," Artemis nodded.

"Here's what I would like," I said. "We can't use compulsion spells or what did Bree call it?"

"Whisper spells," Yelina said. "They make a person hear whispers, it basically sounds like ghosts talking, many at once. We use those to instill fear, but not permanent damage."

"Is that what was happening to you, Artemis?" I asked.

"Yes. Gemma was probably protected because her natural resistance to magic protects her from the technological equivalent."

"That's confusing. Gemma was blocked from crossing onto my property by the warding," I said.

"Wardings are different. Think of them as walls that I cannot pass. The whispers and compulsion spells go through the air and dissipate before they reach me," Gemma explained.

Something occurred to me right then. "Those rods, the holes are irregularly placed, correct?"

Artemis looked down at the rod he was holding. "So the spell is dispersed across a greater area. That's why they could space them so far apart!"

"They still won't work," Natasha interjected.

"How many protection spells in your repertoire?" I smiled. "Maybe some projection spells, like the familiar guarding my garage?"

"Yeah, that one's scary," Natasha admitted.

"Maybe it could be something else," Artemis whispered.

"Come again?" I asked.

"It may be possible...You know what you were discussing before, about setting a grid warding? Those don't have to be on the ground, right?"

"They still have to have intersections," Yelena protested. "A warding has to enclose an area."

Artemis rolled the rod he was holding around in his hands. "Maybe...I don't know...we can use two holes to project the warding above ground? Put rods in the trees or other natural objects. Even at a grid intersection like Jaci said, use four holes to create a grid."

"That's possible," Natasha nodded.

"I need data," Artemis said.

"Would any of you volunteer your time?" Natasha asked the other guardians. "Tatiana and I are under scrutiny from our clan leaders."

"Shylinn can help," Julie said. "She also has some knowledge of technomagic, so she can help you, Artemis."

Zella turned to Paula, "I'd like to help, Ma'am."

"Done," Paula nodded.

"Technomagic?" I asked Julie.

"That's what I like to call it," Julie shrugged.

"Artemis, Gemma, I guess that you two are technomages?" I asked.

"Sounds good," Artemis nodded.

"Oh, dear," Julie shook her head.

***

When everybody else had filed out, I returned to my office with Starr and Pete in tow.

"Those Sandersons, they're dangerous," Pete said.

"Why do you say that?" I asked.

"They didn't seem too friendly, the kids. They are actual kids, not the hundred year old kind of kids. They're used to getting their own way, and their father had to get them to swear by gaia to listen to him at the meeting."

"And?" I probed

"I don't know, just a feeling. They didn't want to know your location just for shits and giggles. They wanted something."

"And the reason they couldn't get a fix was because we kept poking holes in their attempts to triangulate in on you," Starr giggled.

"Maybe we should go pay them a visit on their own turf," Pete offered. "See what it is that they are hiding."

Hmm. Spies. "Do some research first. Enter the town where they can see you, and ask for permission to look around. Maybe even see if Graham will give you a tour."

They looked at each other and nodded. "We're not going to drive there," Starr said.

"Use the company jet," I said. "You offered to go."

"We'll go through Halavana, maybe a dickhead or two will follow us out. I want a match with those fuckers," Pete grumbled.

"Call me when you get there," I ordered.

"Yes, Madam Stone," they said together.

***

A few meetings later, Janine told me my calendar was empty, so I went to plant. I picked a nice park which I had seen from one of the busiest interchanges in the city, and settled down to weed the planters.

The nitrogenator accepted my weeds and dead plants and hummed to life. Since Yelina and her compatriots had joined my security teams, I hadn't been bothered by anyone in the neighborhoods I had chosen. The downside of that was, I didn't have any little helpers come and learn planting, either.

Sail came up to me as I was packing my tools into my racks. "Ma'am, we've got a problem."

"What is it?" I asked.

"Miranda Olsen is on her way here. Traffic is in rush-hour stage, so it'll take her about an hour for her and her teams to get here."

"Okay, I'll be long gone from here by then."

"She also has a team scouting you. They're on the other side of the park, the white Tahoe with the tinted windows," Sail indicated the truck with her head. "We've already changed the face of the vehicle per your instructions."

Good job. "Here's what we'll do." I outlined a plan to leave the neighborhood and allow myself to be ambushed on a road leading to Well City. Sail's team and the backup would swoop in if and when Miranda got frisky with her guards. I told Sail to send her third team ahead of us and come in from the opposite direction.

She didn't ask how I knew about the third vehicle. I had gotten caught with my skirt up and panties down not seeing Calhoun stalking me. I wasn't going to let that happen again.

Miranda's team caught up with me halfway through Well City. It was a dusty, abandoned road, a Tahoe passing me in front and another blocking my rear. She was fucking serious, and that would make taking her down a notch all the more fun. I opened my door and got out, meeting Miranda at the rear bumper of my truck.

Finally. "Who are you and what the FUCK are you doing?"

"I'm Miranda Olsen, and I am here to reclaim my stolen property," Miranda replied, not a bit fazed by my outburst.

I heard the vehicle doors close behind me, one, two, three of them. "What stolen property?"

"That device on that trailer belongs to me," Miranda said.

"Then call the police, we'll suss it out with them," I said.

"We don't need to involve the authorities," Miranda countered.

One of her guards approached us. "Ma'am, we have two vehicles approaching from the south."

"Why do you want my tank, Miranda?" I was going to end the game before Sail and her teams got involved. "You've already got five of them."

Miranda stared at me and blinked. Then she blinked again. "What did you say?"

"Taylor-Wilcox. You had two from the company before you bought it out, and you paid two million dollars for another two. That was a huge waste of money, you know. It only cost forty thousand to make the one that Doctor Granger has, and thirty thousand to build this one."

"You?"

"Yes, me, Miranda."

"Wait a second. You were at the handover, with Francine Talbot. I thought you were just some glorified secretary."

"No. I'm the original owner of all of the nitrogenators. Anyway, what's with all the muscle?" I asked. "Are you planning to take my tank by force?"

"That device belongs to Taylor-Wilcox. It is built off of stolen technology based on patents we hold," Miranda countered.

"Madame Stone," Bea announced her presence behind me. She had snuck up on the blind spot created by the front of my truck and the dust cloud I had created when I stopped. "Is there a problem here?"

"No, there isn't, is there Doctor Olsen?" I asked.

There were a few moments in my life where I had seen people wondering why 2+2=8 without realizing that it was actually 2(2+2)=8. It was funny to watch Miranda do that math, she had no idea that I would be guarded, let alone with twice as many guards as she had. "No, there isn't."

"Good. Let's pack it up. Bea, see you at home?"

"Yes, Madam Stone," Bea smiled.

Madam Stone. Yes, Bea could get away with that. She was too big to take over my knee.

Janine was non-plussed that her mother had made such a bullshit move. Marci suggested that the owner of Brookstone Pointe should 'Call her on the carpet.'

I loved that phrase, 'Being called on the carpet.' It was something that my father had said when he decided that a particular soldier had pissed him off. While he wasn't technically in any unit's Chain of Command, he was still an officer and could ask a fellow officer to do so. The term dated back to a time when only the higher-ranking officers had carpet in their offices and the rest of the building had tile floors.

Yes, I would call Miranda on the carpet, even though the floor in my office was marble. I had Marci give Miranda a call for an appearance on Monday. I would then cancel and reschedule every day until Thursday to delay my gratification. Marci and Janine agreed that my plan was a good one.

***

Monday was full anyway. It was quarterly review time, so every division would give me their reports. The theme was pretty much the same among the manufacturing division, profits were good, and would probably go a little higher in the fall.

The next morning saw the review of the beauty divisions. There was a problem among those departments, and it had to do with Rowan's tirade in London. Overall, business to those shops had dropped four percent, costing Brookstone Pointe one and a half million dollars for the last quarter.

In addition to those losses had been loss of profits and tips to my beauticians. They weren't really 'my' beauticians, they merely leased spaces in my salons. Some customers didn't know the difference and had shunned my salons. The beauticians, seeing their profits falling, exercised the force majeure clause in their leases and left.

There weren't any more low points in the report, just the hope that the tourists would help that division out soon.

My understanding of business had just gotten an expansion, one that really upset me. I had once been one of those hairdressers and I knew exactly how they felt. I didn't know what to do, it was my feelings for Rowan versus three thousand of my employees.

Should I ask the advice of any of my friends, the answers would be the same: Quit the relationship. Gerard would say that he couldn't be hurt by any kind of scandal, people needed guns and ammunition the world over. He was supposedly out of that business, putting together a legacy for his grandchildren.

Joseph would drop Rowan back onto The Hollywood Blacklist; and she wouldn't get off of it again, not even with my intervention. Peridot or Julie would probably just roast Rowan's ass, ditto Morena Wasikowski.

Siobhan would claim bias and distance herself. She didn't want a romantic relationship with me anymore, Grace had made that clear.

Marci would want to throw Rowan off a cliff, reason being that Larry had broken her jaw and kicked her while she was down. Marci was rooting for Samantha. The others would accept Samantha, she had that aura of a wife.

What was I going to do? Would my troupe think me shallow for ending the relationship with Rowan based on the depressing report I had just sat through? They wouldn't think me shallow, I knew it.

No, I would break up with Rowan. Despite my love for her, she had alienated herself from everyone around me.

***

Wednesday morning I found that there was no need to call Miranda Olsen into my office, she arrived with Erin Granger. Janine had filled me in on the workings of the scientific divisions, which mostly fell under one company: Taylor-Wilcox. The other, smaller companies would be placed in a report, along with their quarterly reports and expenditures. If I wanted to know more, all I had to do was ask Erin.

Erin cocked her head at me when she entered my office. She had probably known about the consolidation of Francine's companies, it wasn't small news. What she might not have known was that I was now running the whole show.

I waved them to the chairs directly in front of my desk, taking what Janine and Marci called my signature pose. It felt natural, leaning on the edge, balancing on my heels and toes just right, palms on the desk, looking down on the persons in the chairs. A power pose.

Erin gave me her report first, detailing new discoveries and going into depth about her experiments into nitrogenation.

For the sake of reference, she called the black-coated metal nine-nine-nine stainless. I liked that, because 'black metal' was kind of boring. She added if that metal could be coupled with a silicon matrix could make solar generation more efficient.

That sounded a good idea. I asked her to submit a report on that solar power generation idea, and she handed me a binder with a smile.

Miranda pooh-poohed that idea, saying that embedding a silicon matrix into the nine-nine-nine stainless was fruitless unless they could reliably duplicate the process for making it.

Erin gave me a slight shake of her head. That told me that Miranda was trying to weaponize the metal, and neither of us wanted that.

I asked Miranda if she had come across any other samples of the metal, and that stopped her blabbing right in its tracks. She gave me a glance, then a hard look. Her first reaction was to ask where Francine Talbot was.

Miranda was surprised that I not only owned what used to be Talbot, Ink, but that I was her boss. She found it hard to believe that some gardener could be responsible for nineteen thousand people.

Erin told Miranda that instead of being so focused on work that she might try reading her emails once in a while. Miranda made a not-so-subtle look around the room, supposedly looking for hidden cameras and asking when the joke was going to be over.

Finally, I got through with her shit and ordered her to turn over the nitrogenators to Erin's team so that they could do real work with them. Miranda didn't react too well to that, storming out of my office and slamming the door behind her.

Before she left, Erin gave me a little warning: Miranda was essentially untouchable. Even though she wasn't didn't have much in the way of rank, she still managed to get her way. I asked Erin if I could fire Miranda, and she shook her head.