The security turnover was mercifully non-eventful; the old team was all split up into smaller groups of two or three, so when I showed up leading a team of twenty people they weren’t too inclined to pick a fight. Within an hour, we had them all on the train to leave, and from there I could focus on the next problem.
While I’d managed to find the financial reports for the last two months, everything from before that was conspicuously missing. This was a fairly major problem, since not having those records had the potential to land us in all sorts of legal hot water.
So I found myself asking Lucy where they were.
Lucy grimaced as painful memories resurfaced, “Accounting is in the basement, next to the boiler room. But you really shouldn’t go there. Haggar rendered the room extremely hazardous in his efforts to improve the efficiency of his job.”
I raised an eyebrow and asked, “What in the world did he even do?”
Lucy sighed, “Mancia. Quite a bit of it too. Then… Come with me, I’ll show you.”
And so Lucy lead me down through the corridors below the school. Jethro waved as we went past, soon arriving at a door practically covered in hazard tape. The sign above it read “ACCOUNTING” in all capital letters.
I reached for the doorknob, and Lucy immediately shouted, “NO! Don’t touch the doorknob that’s how we lost Sarah!”
Right. In that case… the door opened easily with a bit of telekinesis.
What I saw was… very indicative of why the room had been sealed. Arcing conduits of Mancia script flowed through the air, file folders constantly re-organized themselves in all manner of ways, and in the center of it was a pair of dessicated human corpses leaking light from every orifice.
“I’m guessing those two are Haggar and Sarah?”
Lucy nodded, “Yeah. They were good friends. I miss them.”
And now the question was how to deal with this mess in a manner that let us access the financial records in a useful manner. Still, I had something of a hint where to begin; ninety percent of the script in there was Mancia, which meant it should be amenable to additional script if properly handled. Now I just needed to sit down and write out what was currently going wrong, so I knew how to fix it.
“Lucy, if you could get me a chair, a notebook, and a pen it would be greatly appreciated. I’m going to be here for a while, mapping out what needs to happen.”
As the secretary scurried off to get what I requested, I spent the few minutes pondering how Mancia could have gone so horribly wrong. It was a language specialized in information handling, so it shouldn’t have been capable of this sort of bodily destruction.
Then I noticed the floating file folders, and things started clicking into place. That was telekinesis, no doubt. Mancia was no good for telekinesis, but Flux, Modern Synthesis, and Craft were all capable of it in different ways. Come to think of it, Bionce borrowed Craft’s highly precise telekinetic manipulation; it was needed for some of the more complicated surgeries.
Right, time to get my glasses again. This time using them to trace flows of Ductile power, instead of peering back through time.
Thankfully Lucy got back with the chair about now, along with the note taking supplies. I gratefully sat, and I got to the business of tracing out this whole mess. It took just a few minutes to notice that the telekinesis was anchored to a pyramid on the desk, covered in Mancia scripts… as well as Bionce.
I grimaced. Beyond the bare minimum for first aid, Bionce was definitely outside my area of expertise. I was going to need some help for this one. Still, I could at least map out all the Mancia at play, and figure out what needed to be done on that front.
It took about an hour of careful note-taking and diagram drawing to figure out how this whole setup was handling the financial records. In a word? Badly. It was very clear that Haggar hadn’t finished before it all went horribly wrong.
Didn’t the school teach Bionce? Right, that at least meant there was probably an expert on hand who could help me figure out the rest of what was going on. So I carefully re-sealed the door with telekinesis and made my way back upstairs.
It didn’t take me long to find a high level Bionce class in session, one of our two instructors currently explaining how to regenerate damage to the central nervous system. From the rapt attention the teenagers were giving her, Ms. Roun was doing a very good job keeping their attention.
Soon enough the class let out, and she greeted me, “Hello, Mr. Adley. Is there something I can help you with?”
“Yes. I was just downstairs looking at what became of Haggar, and I need a bit of help piecing together what he actually did.”
“...isn’t it all Mancia? That’s really not my field of expertise.”
“Turns out that he used Bionce for the telekinetic components, and I’m not really qualified to deal with that level of it. I’ve already mapped out the Mancia parts, but I can’t fix it without help.”
Ms. Roun sighed, “Right, I’ll be down just after lunch. You should probably eat too; you’ll want to deal with this on a full stomach, and it’ll give us some time to go over your notes.”
With that we both made our way to the cafeteria. Turned out to be a sandwich day, meaning no mashed potatoes or macaroni. And so we ate and talked as we figured out what to do next.
It’s during this that we spotted an anomaly in how the setup was handling information. “There’s a gap here, where the bits that decide what goes where are supposed to be.”
Ms. Roun looked it over, “...Those are the scripts used for interfacing with a brain.”
The Bionce instructor sagged as tears began flowing from her eyes, “If Haggar had just told me what he was trying to do I could have helped with this. You can’t just directly plug magic into a brain like that without a whole lot of interface layers, it’s not safe.”
Thinking back to what I saw in the basement, I asked, “Feedback loops?”
“That and worse. The magic completely overrides all brain activity in the process; only way for someone to get out of that is if they have someone else at the emergency stop. They sure won’t be able to think their way out of it.”
I groaned, “And the way Haggar set it up, anyone who went in to help just got grabbed and subjected to the same fate. I’d need a full hazardous magic suit if I were going in there, and we just don’t have the budget to get one of those.”
Ms. Roun ate another bite of her sandwich as we kept thinking. After about ten minutes, she noted, “I think that if you added some extra Mancia coding to the whole mess, you should be able to make document access externally controllable. That way we can at least access the school’s financial records.”
Roughly an hour later I was back downstairs, readying a paper airplane scribed with additional Mancia coding. The door of the accounting department opened inwards with a telekinetic shove, and I launched the plane in. At the same time my other half was pushing on reality; those financial records were important to the school’s operations and we WOULD have access to them.
There was a flash of information as the patch applied itself to the automagical filing system, then I felt something shift. Jethro looked a bit uneasy as the world shook to its foundations.
Then text was projected into the air. “Hello? Who’s there? How much is this meeting going to cost?”
This… was not part of the plan. Instantly I figured out what had happened; this thing had already assimilated two human brains, and we’d just applied an Archmagery patch that gave it advanced recognition capabilities. I’d just pushed Haggar’s dangerous magical filing system over the sapience threshold.
I answered, “I am Adrian Adley, headmaster of this school. We need access to the school’s financial records for legal and budgetary reasons. Is there anything you would like me to call you?”
“Call me the Budget. I will assist in the financial operation of this facility.”
...That was better than I’d feared, honestly. This was still a dangerous magical lifeform in the basement, but at the very least we had a functioning accounting department now.
“Budget, if someone were to enter your office, would they be assimilated the same way Haggar and Sarah were?”
“I do not know who you refer to. However, I will not act with hostility towards visitors, so long as neither I nor my documents are harmed.”
The very next day proved that I had very good timing on getting the financial records accessible. Because that’s when the auditor showed up.
I wasn’t surprised in the least; as soon as I’d discovered the invoice in Humbernot’s office –which still wasn’t clean even two weeks later, and not for lack of effort – I’d immediately reported it. Honestly it would be more concerning if my superiors didn’t send anyone to check on the extent of financial damage Humbernot did.
And so I was waiting at the train station when an extremely grumpy and somewhat familiar-looking man stepped onto the platform.
I couldn’t help but ask, “Would you happen to be related to Andrew Slate by any chance?”
The auditor grumbled “Cousin. Anyway, my name is Max, and I’ll be auditing the school’s financial records. I know you only started running the school a couple weeks ago, so you probably aren’t personally liable for anything.”
“Right, follow me. That said, there’s some very important information about the accounting department you need to know.”
As we started walking, Max raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”
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“There’s no good way to say this, but the records are currently being overseen by a dangerous magical phenomenon that I accidentally pushed over the sapience threshold. The Budget is reasonably professional, but actually entering the accounting office is a really bad idea. Also don’t touch the doorknob.”
Max chortled, “I’ve heard worse. I’ll follow necessary safety precautions, but I do still need a look at your documents.”
“Figured as much. I had a desk set up in the hallway just outside the office. It’s cramped, but it should get the job done.”
Soon enough we arrived at the accounting department, and I telekinetically knocked on the door. The Budget opened it, and Max’s face paled as he saw the morbid sight of Haggar and Sarah’s remains.
“Hello misters Adley. Is this man the auditor you spoke of?”
“Yes. Budget, meet Max. Max, meet the Budget. Anyway, they’ve got enough telekinetic range to move documents to and from the desk, so they should be able to move stuff around as needed.”
Max soon sat down with his calculator and notebook, and the two of them quickly set about measuring my predecessor’s financial indiscretions.
Before I left, I asked, “By the way, would you like me to have lunch brought down for you? I’m about to go eat and it seemed polite to ask.”
Max shrugged, “Had breakfast on the train and lunch isn’t for another few hours. Thank you for the offer, but no.”
And with that I made my way to the cafeteria for breakfast. Even if Max wasn’t hungry, I certainly was. Plus, it was waffle day; probably the single best food item the cafeteria made as far as I was concerned.
When I got to the relevant staff table I happened to sit across from Jethro, who was busily eating one of the breakfast sausages he’d been served.
As I drizzled syrup all over my delicious golden waffles, Jethro took a break from eating to greet me.
“Nice to see you Adrian. How’s life been going for you?”
I shrugged, “It’s been stressful sorting out the mess Humbernot left behind, but I’m finally making some progress. Managed to fix Haggar’s invention at least well enough to access the financial records, though it did become sapient in the process.”
Jethro nodded solemnly, “Haggar was a good friend. Glad at least something of his finally panned out, though I wish it weren’t this way.”
I finished my bite of waffle, “We all wish it hadn’t happened that way. Anyway, an auditor is currently working with the Budget to figure out just how much Humbernot embezzled.”
Jethro’s grimace soured, “It was a lot. I signed on about a month before Humbernot took over, and back in those days the custodial department was much better trained and equipped. We had a full hazmag team even! But after a few years Humbernot started boozing and doping to deal with the stress, and the money for all that fancy expensive equipment and specialized training stopped coming in.”
I took another bite of glorious waffle, even as I continued listening.
“Haven’t had a single functional hazmag suit for about three years now. It’s why we’ve just been sealing off rooms when something goes wrong; haven’t had the equipment to clean it up safely.”
I thought for a moment as I finished, “Pretty sure the money did keep coming in; it’s just that Humbernot re-appropriated it.”
We continued talking shop over breakfast for another thirty minutes or so, before getting on with our respective duties. In my case, that meant double checking with the alchemy teachers if they needed any particularly noteworthy supplies.
The first alchemy teacher I found was a woman by the name of Rou, with her golden blonde hair in a neat bun. Her response to my query was… insructive.
“I’ve been needing to get materials out of my own pay for years now! I could barely get basic solvents and the ingredients for one or two experiments a month. I’ve done what I could, but having an actual budget for materials would help a lot. Thank you thank you!”
It was only then that I realized I was being hugged.
“Rou, personal space please?”
She jumped back in shock “Sorryit’sjustthelastbossbarelycaredan-”
I nodded sadly, “I don’t blame you for it, but please don’t touch me without permission.”
After a moment to compose herself, Rou asked, “So. What now?”
“Now we go over the list of materials you actually need to do your job effectively and figure out what it’s going to cost.”
Turned out that Rou wouldn’t actually need anything too dangerous or expensive. The most hazardous things on her materials list were pure sodium metal for demonstrations and the mass-produced Energized Base Potion used for running engines.
I quickly wrote down the list of materials, and started making my rounds through the other departments. As it turned out everyone was running short of materials, which was unsurprising given Humbernot’s abuse of the school’s finances. Still, the courses where the students were making things definitely had it worst due to the equipment and materials required.
And so a couple hours after lunch I came back to where Max and the Budget were still going over the damage to the school’s finances.
Max turned to look at my approach as the Budget greeted me.
“Misters Adley. What brings you here at the present time?”
I answered, “I spent the last few hours checking up with all the departments about equipment shortages and training deficits. What I’ve got here is a list of everything we’re running short on, and I’m wondering if the cost of them fits in the budget hole left by Humbernot’s embezzlement.” before setting the compiled document on the desk.
The Budget quickly started sorting through the notes I’d provided, before answering, “Not everything, but 85% of the shortfall is directly attributable to the embezzlement we’ve already discovered. It is possible that there is more malfeasance to discover, but equally possible that the staff are deliberately overstating requirements.”
I nodded “When you and Max are done going over everything, could you please start purchasing relevant equipment using the fax machine I know you have? Maximum priority to hazardous magic equipment for the custodial department.”
“Understood. I will handle the equipment purchases as directed. But now I need to get back to the audit.”
I left Max and the budget to their work, and went back to my ‘temporary’ office to look through the assorted student records. It was a way to pass the time at least, and also a way to learn who exactly I was supposed to keep an eye on.
...Wait, that student detonated his uncle!? I immediately started deep-reading the file on Ford Carpenter, and everything started coming into focus. Raised in an abusive household, invented a crude language reminiscent of Flux on his own, and was beaten to within an inch of his life before blasting his uncle in self-defense. The attached psychological report was equally dire, as apparently he’d developed a hideous combined guilt/hero complex and ran a small student gang.
Ugh. It didn’t take much deep thought to realize this kid was going to be a problem. Suppose I’d best read up on the rest of his gang as well.
What followed was two distressing hours of reading before supper as I learned about the trio of Ford Carpenter along with the Gray siblings. Somewhat violent, insular, and with absolutely no trust in the school’s authorities to keep them safe. They’d gotten into trouble several times in the last few years trying to solve issues and usually just making them worse.
The worst part is that I really couldn’t blame them for ending up like that. It had been made very clear by Benny and everyone I’d polled that the previous administration didn’t care about bullying at all.
Sighing in resignation, I put the files away and got ready for supper. I knew I’d have my work cut out for me fixing this place, but this was yet another complication I really wish I didn’t have to deal with.
Supper turned out to be stew and dumplings tonight; the kitchen staff clearly wanted some extra time off, so they’d only prepared one main dish for everyone. Though there was a nice selection of dumpling varieties at least. Dessert was a pre-packaged ice cream cup.
I spotted Max at the staff table, the auditor in question glaring at one of his dumplings like it had offended him.
I picked the savory pork dumplings and sat across from him, eating my ice cream first to keep it from melting. Eventually Max finished the dumpling he had been eating, then started to speak.
“I’m not even done with the audit. It seems like the more I look into the more financial malfeasance I uncover. I’m definitely going to need to finish tomorrow.”
I nodded, “Last train back to the big city leaves in about an hour. You can either commute home or use one of the beds here; we’ve got plenty of them.”
Max sighed, “I’d rather sleep here in all honesty. With any luck I might be able to finish before lunch if I don’t have to commute, and three hours on the railways to get home around eleven won’t be conducive to good sleep or good work.”
“I’ll have one of the dormitory supervisors find an unoccupied room for you. There should be plenty available.”
Max grunted in the affirmative, and we got back to eating. Honestly it was a pretty good stew; I might ask the kitchen staff to make it again some day.
Supper over, I was officially off the clock. There didn’t seem to be any immediate crises, so as soon as I had Max directed to his accommodations I could take a bit of leisure time.
So a few minutes later, I was out in the courtyard, making paper airplanes scribed with a little bit of Mancia under the wings, and a tiny bit of Flux for propulsion. I’d gotten twenty of them ready when a teenage student walked up to me and asked, “Headmaster Adley? What are you doing out here?”
I looked to her as I gestured up at the night sky, “Everyone needs some time to relax now and then, and that’s what I’m doing at the moment. If you stick around for about half an hour you’re going to see something rather neat.”
“Mind if I go get my friends?”
I hummed in affirmation as I kept making my stock of magical paper airplanes.
Sure enough, Rachel returned with a gaggle of other students just as I got the last one ready.
I turned to her, “Would you like to participate, by the way? I’ve made enough that everyone could use at least one.”
Hesitantly, Rachel picked up a paper plane and asked, “Er, how do I use this?”
I answered by picking up one of my remaining planes and flinging it up into the night sky. It flew unerringly upwards… then exploded into rainbow streamers of light that curled around in the air for nearly two seconds before disappearing.
The crowd of students stood in slack-jawed amazement for a moment, before one of them shouted, “Do it again!”
Rachel of course obliged, flinging the plane she’d selected upwards where it burst into a glowing red flower pattern.
The next few minutes were all good fun as my impromptu magical fireworks lit up the night sky. I did catch one of the students trying to fling a plane at someone else; but the plane went up anyway, denying the git their violence. I made a mental note to keep an eye out for that particular student in future, then got back to enjoying my evening.
The next morning was oatmeal day for breakfast. Not exactly my favorite, but I’d eat it. I’d barely started eating when Jethro sat across from me with a somewhat pained expression.
“Jethro, are you alright?”
“I’m doing fine. It’s the students I’m worried about. One of ‘em came up to me crying today. I’d really recommend sitting in on Professor Arrence’s Mancia classes. Something about how he handles things is rubbing me the wrong way.”
Thinking back to that hook-nosed teacher I’d met on the first day, I nodded, “Right, I’ll do that today.”
It took a little bit for me to whip up a ‘Don’t notice the inspector’ effect for me to sneak into one of Arrence’s classes with, but I had it ready before his second class of the day. And with that I slipped into the back row of students and started taking notes on professorial conduct.
Arrence began by taking attendance, “Adam? Present. Georgia? Present. Emily? Late.” and going through about thirty names.
Only after that did the actual teaching begin, and I got a bad feeling immediately.
“Today we will be learning how to record a visual signal. This is an advanced topic, so I don’t expect any of you incompetents to understand this, but I will try and explain it regardless.”
With that, Arrence launched into a detailed explanation of how Mancia video recording worked. It honestly wasn’t all that complicated a topic, but at the pace he was progressing it wouldn’t be surprising if most students missed some important bits of information.
Then I noticed something else: professor Arrence wasn’t just going too fast for the students, but he had a sadistic grin on his face as he watched the students struggle to keep up.
I listened and watched intently as the teacher continued his lesson on video recording, then something stuck out to me.
“And as for the connection between each still image, those linkages can be automatically formed via a Hoptmann Cascade.”
What. He just made that term up. I’ve been working with Mancia in a professional capacity for over a decade and there’s no such thing as a Hoptmann cascade.
Arrence is teaching his class wrong on purpose.
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