Anika slid into a swanky booth across from Lars. Hopefully, he had come across something useful in the last few days because she had not, much to her chagrin.
A server bot followed behind her. It wore the perfect expression of curiosity and concern, the gold star of customer service. Even the lowest class of bot was technologically incredible, especially given the rapid regression of technology in Triahkle. To put things simply, bots came in three categories. Good, better, best.
Good were the robots. There wasn’t really a better name for them. They paraded around looking mostly human-like and could carry out whatever tasks they were programmed for. Some could compute verbal direction—like the server bot. Most were just set to a routine.
Street maintenance, for example, dispatched at 5th hour daily. Each robot combed its predetermined streets, picking up litter, cleaning messes, and addressing vandalism if it fell within its detection parameters, like broken glass.
Better bots were a marriage of AI and robots—highly intelligent halfway beings. They grew with each interaction, collecting data and learning new ways to respond to situations.
This category of bot could easily be confused for your regular everyday human if they were allowed to roam casually on the streets—which was absolutely not permitted. Only one feature identified them as bots to passersby. Pure silver irises. Silver being a mark of their mechanical nature and superior electrical conductivity that allows them to mimic human action so well. They’re expensive to own and came with a lot of rules and regulations.
The best bots—who took offence to being labelled as bots—were the Biomechs. They were completely autonomous. Considered a subspecies of human. And watched like hawks by the Protectorate and nosy, suspicious neighbours alike. Their eyes featured a thin silver ring encircling a regular human-looking iris and pupil. Like the AI bots, their eyes were windows into their biological and mechanical nature.
Goods and betters could undergo bot maintenance and repair, but modifications, updates, and the building of new bots were strictly prohibited. The only new “bots” were Biomech because they had the ability to reproduce—Anika had a lot of questions about how the mechanical bits passed along in making a baby.
Though autonomous, the Biomech community faced severe constraints when it came to reproduction. They had to apply for the opportunity to have a child and go through interviews and tests. Anika even heard that both prospective parents had to drink a specially brewed alchemical poison just to prove that it wouldn’t work on them, and hence, they were actual Biomech humans—a backward sort of logic.
Mixed couples, Biomech and natural human, while not illegal, were very much not an accepted idea. Offspring resulting from a mixed coupling…well, they just weren't. What if the baby was Biomech but hadn’t been approved through proper channels? What if it resulted in corrupted babies? The Protectorate deemed it too dangerous to risk. Anika thought it was all hogwash, but she was part of the minority opinion.
The server bot waiting to take her order was a high-end example of the good variety. Appropriate for a more refined establishment.
“Salutations, Miss. Welcome back to The Jolly Bot. Can I get you anything?”
“Roasted caja nuts, please.”
Sabdur would be a fool not to sell his roasted nuts at restaurants in Last Stand. The snack was a hit, especially in the city's few bars and pubs.
“An excellent choice, Miss. I will return shortly.”
The server left in a manner that looked closer to floating than walking. The finite supply of robot and AI types meant they were meticulously cared for. Nothing like the clunky, rusted Animi Thirtytwo from BioCorp. This bot glided effortlessly away from the table.
“Thank you.”
“You know your manners don’t make a difference to that bot.”
Lars said in lieu of a greeting.
“They make a difference to me. Hello to you too.”
Anika hadn’t missed how Lars was almost exclusively meeting her off-duty now. Ever since BioCorp, he’d been acting differently. Still rough around the edges. But now he was also sloppy, missing the carefully honed big bad investigator persona he’d had when they first met. The one thing that hadn’t changed was his notebook, sitting ready on the table.
Her gaze must have lingered on Lars a few seconds too long. He furrowed his brows in annoyance.
“What?”
“Oh, sorry, I just noticed you missed a button.”
“What?”
He repeated himself, frustration already leaking into his voice. He must be hungover again.
“A button, on your shirt.”
She gestured toward his shirt, indicating the article of clothes in question. Lars looked down, saw the mismatched buttons, and swore under his breath.
“What’d you figure out with the potion?”
Lars questioned as he fastened his tweed vest to hide the silly mistake.
“Nothing! Absolutely nothing!”
Anika threw her hands up, vexed by the potion, and then slapped them down on the dark oak table for added emphasis.
“I risked my ass for you to find nothing?”
“Ugh. No! I just don’t have the right materials at my apartment. Deconstructing potions at home isn’t a common pastime for me. I tried a few simple techniques Theo taught me on potion identification, but apart from an earth affinity, I couldn’t discern much else. The worst part—earth doesn’t even seem like the primary affinity!”
She pulled at her hair, frustrated beyond belief.
“Damn. What do we do?”
Lars relented.
“If I could take the remaining sample to Rubedo, I’d be better equipped to test it.”
She asked as casually as possible. She had tried this request before and was always shut down.
“Okay. Give me a couple days to work up a plan.”
“Just like that? No arguments?”
Anika’s brows disappeared into green hair as she peered at Lars incredulously.
“Don’t push it.”
His tone was neutral, but his eyes betrayed his exhaustion. Nonetheless, he jotted a few notes. She grinned, nodded demurely and threw in a thumbs-up for good measure.
“Have you got anything new?”
Changing the subject would give him less time to rethink his decision.
“Velric approved the library request. I'm going tomorrow. Told them I’m looking for information on alchemy, which I will. But I also need to know more about the war and BioCorp. There’s something there.”
She pointed a finger at him. Exactly. She would have said this out loud…but her mouth was full of cajas.
“I feel the same way. The potion is related to BioCorp.”
Anika agreed once she’d swallowed the delicious snack. She was sure about that tip. She could feel it in her bones.
“To find Theo, we have to figure out this BioCorp puzzle.”
She went on when Lars didn’t say anything. No matter how many times Anika repeated that to herself, she couldn’t quite see what puzzle she was supposed to be solving. But her gut instinct told her it was much bigger than just the disappearance. In fact, the disappearance may be more of a clue to a much bigger case, not the case itself. That was an interesting thought.
Lars gave her a pondering look. Multiple times, she thought he was going to speak but held himself back. He ran a hand through his messy brown hair, a shade darker than its usual warm, hickory tones from lack of washing.
When he signalled for a drink, she almost gave in and just asked what was up. But she could be patient…ish.
He tossed back the shot and gave a long sigh. And did one of those things the worst kinds of people do.
“I think we gotta talk. But not here.”
“Then why even bring it up now?”
She crossed her arms and grimaced.
“Hm.”
He shrugged like the idea of waiting never occurred to him. With great self-restraint, she didn’t push him. He was a tough nut to crack. Bombard him, and he clammed up.
Lars and Anika finished their respective refreshments, making sparse and meaningless chitchat, and then left The Jolly Bot. Going about the rest of their day.
They couldn’t be spending all day every day together, investigating, breaking protectorate law right under their very noses. Because, at this point, they had broken many laws—barriers that somehow always managed to hinder the investigation.
Anika headed to her apartment. She had been painstakingly making her way through the technical books from the Archivist. Hoping to get a bit more insight than Lars had—possibly something alchemically relevant. To Lars’ credit, they were very difficult to get through.
———
The investigation. Life. It was all moving too fast but equally too slow. He wanted answers but was scared of them in turn.
See, Lars had a second mission. His primary mission, actually. The driving force that made him become an investigator. Like countless people, he experienced familial loss in his youth that altered the shape of his life. Multiple losses, in fact.
Anxiety and fear cropped up in funny ways. Until he read the entry about Harlyk Von Cercher in the history book, Lars had no knowledge of a connection between his family and BioCorp. The frightening experience at the facility's ruins triggered his spiral, the convoluted nightmares, and the drinking. The horrific test vlogs brought back unwelcome memories of other graphic violence he had witnessed in his life, even if seemingly unrelated. The fact that there was a real link between the two was just icing on the cake.
Hopefully, the library would help him clarify these new links. He was decided on telling Anika about his past. Not everything. But the stuff related to the investigation, he’d share. It was becoming apparent that he needed help, and he couldn’t look to the protectorate for it.
Lars made his way down hall after hall of austere, imposing walls and rows of plain metal doors. A handful of them had identification plaques mounted, but not many. He’d actually had to get directions to the library, but the labyrinth of hallways had him wondering if they had been wrong.
Finally, just when Lars was considering turning back, he arrived at an antechamber.
A pair of stony-faced protectors stood at attention on either side of the library door. Lars probably wouldn’t have considered it much previously…but why did a rarely used library need guards? Wouldn’t the voltage barrier do?
As Lars approached the massive metal door, he instantly noticed the intricate design inlaid on it. Getting closer, he tried to get a better look at the details, but a barrier obscured the inlay material, making it hard to identify. Even more intriguing, the voltage barrier seemed brighter in the spots where it overlapped the design, as if the array itself was emitting a faint light.
The door and the guards were the only things of note in the foyer. The rest of the room was concrete walls and a few voltage chandeliers suspended high in the air. He would have made note of the door, but he didn’t think the protectors would like that much. He tried to mentally memorize the design so he could document it later.
“Mind letting me through?”
“Orders?”
At the protector's flat command, Lars held out the approved request form.
The protector who’d acknowledged Lars looked over the form thoroughly, going so far as to hold the document up to the light, checking the watermark. The other guard hardly spared the exchange a glance. His attention not wavering from the foyer.
Lars half expected an ambush at any second with how intense these guys were.
“Looks good to me. Phil.”
Phil, protector number two, pulled out a small device. Unlike the common barrier controller, which had a button on it that toggled the corresponding voltage barrier, this one had what looked like a button but was a divot, and it could not be pressed.
The protector held the device in his hand and placed his thumb over the divot. There was a quick pistoning sound, only audible because of the stifling silence in the antechamber, and the button lit up green. Phil wiped away a pinprick-sized drop of blood from his thumb.
Lars blinked a few times. Was the library’s voltage barrier blood coded? Was that possible?
“Head inside. Directory can be found on the podium.”
Lars nodded to the protector and walked into the library. Like the rest of Central Command, it was cold and bare. Even with the voltage chandeliers overhead, the room appeared dimly lit, casting an uncomfortable white glow over the rows of bookshelves and filing cabinets that lined the wall.
He surveyed what he could see of the T-shaped room. The walls themselves were a uniform shade of polished concrete, with no adornments or decorations to break up the monotony. The air was cool and dry, and the faint smell of dust and paper lingered—appropriate for a library.
The shelves were metal, off-white, and packed tightly with books and records. It was one of the only major collections of texts in Last Stand, and the knowledge within was kept under tight wraps. There was a bookseller on Artisan Street, but they mostly sold pamphlets, some surviving novels they could reprint, and the extremely infrequent new publishings that came out per year.
There was no one around to show him where to look. Only the massive book sitting on a podium. Lars flipped the cover open and found two columns of index-like entries, categorised by subject, with a list of titles and identifier tags for books related to that subject.
Anika had suggested a few keywords to look for, which he kept in mind as he scanned the catalogue. Only one title caught his eye, A Compendium of Medicinal and (Al)Chymical Plants. The publishing year was 36, and few of the texts were as old. Meaning it was more likely to have information the protectorate had yet to censor. He’d scan the surrounding shelves for additional books when he went to collect A Compendium.
He turned his attention to subjects related to early Last Stand or BioCorp history. Nothing included BioCorp in the title. But there were multiple pages of texts related to the history of Triahkle, the protectorate, and an impressive number on the other cities of the collective. Noting where to find the books on Last Stand and protectorate history, he closed the tome with a heavy thud and navigated his way through the metal shelves.
Once Lars had an understanding of the organization system he made quick work of finding A Compendium. A brief scan of the nearby books revealed nothing more interesting than what he saw listed in the catalogue. Most were modern-day topics. Bot maintenance, healing, and a variety of texts on trade occupations and artisanship.
He pulled the book he sought from the shelf, then headed for the right branch of the T-shaped library. He turned the corner and saw more of the same. The only thing that seemed to change were the titles on the shelves. If nothing else, the Protectorate was consistent.
Tracking down rows of history books, he carefully read each spine. To his surprise, they started with the previous year, 151. Someone was still documenting history. Yet, these were all very slim books. Not much changed year to year anymore, and it was very difficult to record any events outside of Last Stand because of limited communication.
He followed the wall of bookshelves, watching as the years decreased and the books grew thicker. The left wing of the library was comprised of the earlier history books. He never made it to the earliest years, though, because any date before the Protected Year of 30 was locked behind bars and a barrier.
Lars tried to read the titles through the barrier, but it was difficult with the translucent blue charge glittering and sparking. He caught glimpses of keywords. Striport. Corruption Wars. But could make out little else.
Why was all of the early history kept locked up? That was an easy one. Because the protectorate had lied. They were covering up something.
A few minutes later, while Lars was trying to see titles through the barrier, the nameless protector snuck up on him.
“Is there something specific you are looking for, Investigator Cercher?”
He had a no-nonsense tone. It was a warning, a dismissal. The protector had come in quietly. His footsteps should have echoed through the room, but he moved silently. Lars had a creeping suspicion this protector was trained as an assassin.
Of course, a governing body such as the protectorate would employ assassins. Not many, as Last Stand’s protectorate only oversaw one city, and intercity politics were minimal to nonexistent. But each city was large enough that the protectorate felt a need for assassins. The identity of assassins was highly guarded. They worked day to day in any regular protector posting, and many in the protectorate and out didn't realise they even existed.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
The only reason Lars knew was due to a case a few years back. Before the protectorate could cover it up, the crime was brought to his attention. At that point, their options were to take care of Lars, too. Or, let him in on the secret.
Even though he knew about the assassins, he didn't know the assassins. But this guy definitely seemed like one.
“Nope, just going to take this and get out of your hair.”
He indicated A Compendium.
“Very well.”
The protector gestured for Lars to walk ahead of him, and he followed close behind.
As Lars exited the library, Phil was there, holding a book and pen. He checked the cover and title page of the book, documented it then had Lars sign. He nodded in dismissal as the book disappeared into one of his belt pouches—a compression pocket.
“Good day, Investigator Cercher.”
Lars didn’t like the tone the assassin protector used, but he pushed it to the back of his mind as he left Central Command. Anika knew he was visiting the library; she’d probably stop by the pub hoping to catch up. He needed a drink anyway.
The streets weren’t as busy this time of day, which allowed Lars to make the longer journey through the city relatively painless. An establishment like The Jolly Bot didn’t want to be right next to Central Command. He could have taken the CLR, but it was almost always busy since there were only two railcars that could run these days. It wasn’t a bad day for a walk anyway.
He pushed his way through the front door of the pub. It was a dark oak with a frosted glass window that had The Jolly Bot lettered across it in a slight arch. Different from most doors in the city, but not remarkable enough to draw unwanted attention.
“Fyke.”
It was Lars' way of both greeting and ordering. He made a path to his regular booth, and mere moments later, a serving bot delivered his standard two fingers of whiskey.
He paged through the book he had brought from the library, but Anika would get more from it than he could. The differences between a Frostphorus Spike and a Coldheart Lily, both of which induced internal freezing were lost on him. Instead, he updated his notebook with details from his library visit.
Just as he suspected, less than an hour later, a minor nuisance with long green hair walked into the pub. Lars frowned as she went to the bar instead of checking the booth.
“Excuse me. Hello, sir. How do you do? Is Lars Von Cercher here?”
She addressed Fyke at the bar. All smiles and waves. Fyke cocked an eyebrow and shot Lars a questioning look.
Lars mentally face-palmed himself but dipped his head to the bartender, who in turn pointed Anika to the booth—which she should have just checked in the first place.
Anika wasn’t aware, but The Jolly Bot catered to a specific type of clientele. If you didn’t know someone, who knew someone, who knew someone else, you were made to feel…unwelcome.
They never refused customers, but the staff made outsiders feel uncomfortable in hopes they wouldn’t want to come back. Anika didn’t know any of this. She just thought it was a bar Lars frequented. But he was acquainted with the owner and, therefore, allowed to drink here, even though he was (in most of the patrons’ opinions) on the wrong side of the law—the protectorate’s side. But Fyke approved it, so no one questioned him.
Jolly Bot regulars knew not to ask questions and not to snoop in other people's business—though they were allowed to conduct low-stakes business dealings. It was neutral ground for those who weren’t welcome in more reputable establishments, suitable for Lars and Anika to meet and work on the case away from Protectorate eyes and ears. Meeting at either of their homes too frequently might draw troublesome attention.
“How was the library?”
Anika was eating caja nuts again. She'd brought them from the bar, waving with one hand while carrying snacks with the other.
Lars had never met someone who was always in motion as much as Anika. Hands and mouth constantly moving. He didn’t find it as annoying as he once had. To his chagrin, he was getting used to it. He waited until she sat down to reply, not wanting to hold a conversation across the room.
“Strange. Lotta security for a library.”
He slid her the book. She had also asked him to look for anything related to chemistry, medicine, and possibly pharmaceuticals. Something about the BioCorp logs and seeing what they were giving to Anima and the other experiment patients. But books on those subjects were long destroyed. He hadn’t seen real science books of any sort in the barred section either.
“This is all?”
She looked disappointed at the single, albeit very large, compendium sitting in front of her. But when Lars leaned in to give her the details, her eyes glittered conspiratorially. He spoke in a low voice.
“They had other books. First 30 years after the Corruption are locked down tight. Bars and a voltage barrier.”
“Woah. That’s super suspicious.”
“Library had protectors stationed there too. And a barrier on the main door.”
He wasn’t sure what to make of the decoration he’d seen on the door. Was it suspicious or just an unusual display of ornamentation on the protectorate's part? Lars was leaning toward suspicious.
“So it was a bust.”
Anika huffed, tugging at her hair. Lars briefly wondered, not for the first time, if it was alchemically dyed or natural—the least important thought running through his head.
“If we could get into that restricted section….”
Lars considered the idea of sneaking back into the library but chalked it off as nearly impossible. Anika put words to his thoughts, finishing his sentence.
“But we can’t, so now all we have is the potion. Maybe the book can help with that.”
She sounded skeptical. Her constant optimism starting to falter.
“Let's get the potion done tonight. It can't wait any longer.”
Anika’s mood visibly brightened, but it failed to rub off on Lars.
He laid out a plan for them to meet covertly—after Artisan Street was emptied for the day. Then, they went their separate ways. Anika had said she needed to prepare, which, truth be told, worried Lars a hair. She was earnest but a wild card.
———
Lars didn’t know this, but Central Command had video recording devices in the library. Why? Because highly classified information was stored there.
Like the assassins, very few knew the protectorate still made use of such technology. Dax, the assassin protector on library duty, knew to check on Lars because he had been instructed to via message from High Protector Velric, who’d been charged with monitoring the live video feed of Lars’ visit.
When the investigator wandered away from the section on alchemy and towards history instead, Velric knew something was off. The request and approval were for very specific subjects. But from the way Lars examined the spine of each book, it was apparent he was searching for something in particular, not related to alchemy as the request had stated.
When Lars arrived at the restricted section, he was far too interested in it. At one point, he squatted down, tilting his head this way and that to try and get a better look through the barrier. He even pulled out a small notepad that he was scribbling in. That was too much. Something would have to be done.
A week ago, Velric wouldn’t have questioned Lars’ loyalty. He had always done his job and done it well. Better than most. Lars’ disposition could be better, but Velric could compromise. Lars had been dealt a rough hand, afterall. Velric knew because he was privy to that sort of information.
Now, though? The investigator was acting off. The last time they met, when the request was approved, he could smell the lingering scent of alcohol on Lars, even from across the office. His brown hair had been messy and slightly oily. Clothes wrinkled. A request to visit the library was also odd.
The real nail in the coffin, though,…when Egert Lupton, the alchemist tasked with testing the mysterious yellow potion, sent a note with his findings. The note was sent to the attention of High Protector Velric. A logical choice since it was Velric paying the man. The contents of the note were unsettling.
To the attention of High Protector Velric,
My humblest apologies, sir, but I cannot supply you with any greatly illuminating details on the potion I was requested to give my expert opinion on. The sample, that of which was delivered by your man Lars Von Cercher, has proved simple to identify.
It is Truth Serum, an elixir well known to protectorate officials. I’d imagine the lovely plum tones of the liquid would suggest as much, but I will allow that the colour could be replicated in another’s potion, which led me to continue on with testing….
The note went on and on, morphing into a letter of complaint. Velric skipped to the end.
I humbly request a modest bonus to compensate for the inconvenience of time spent testing my own personally crafted exquisite concoction.
Please keep Potions and Tonics by Egert in mind for any future needs.
Most humbly yours,
Egert Lupton
The man was certainly wordy, but Velric saw the real message between the superfluous text. Lars switched the potion. Egert may not have known the potion he was supposed to test was yellow. Velric knew, though. He was also familiar with the protectorate-issued lie detection elixirs.
Something about this case had Lars Von Cercher asking questions and searching for things he shouldn’t be. Velric had a sneaking feeling the potion, and the disappearance of Alchemist Silke, Keeper Zsig, and Protector Atn was something the protectorate didn't want investigated.
It was time for someone to step in. Easier to sweep the whole mess under the rug. Shut up Lars, and it would all go away as long as the alchemist and protectors didn't pop back up.
Velric stood up from his desk, fastened his suit jacket, and went to see his superior.
———
Nothing had changed in the shop since the day Rubedo had been shut down.
They snuck in the front door, checking the street for potential witnesses before slipping through. The investigator and apprentice alchemist turned junior detective kept the lights off in the front shop, going straight to the back work area instead.
Anika took a deep breath in and exhaled, spinning in a slow circle.
“It’s good to be back.”
She watched as Lars peered suspiciously at the odd ingredients and…other things on the shelves like they’d leap at him any second. To be fair, the frogs might, if given the chance.
“How’re they still alive with the store closed this long?”
Lars gestured at the small bouncy abominations.
“Theo transmuted those. They survive off a charge contained in the enclosure. It doesn't run out because the frogs recharge it.”
“Self-sustaining life…”
Anika began pulling liquids, powders, jars, and all sorts of other ingredients and equipment out. Anything with properties for deconstruction or identification. Then she held up one finger to an already bewildered Lars.
“First, we’ll identify which element it is closest to. I have some ideas on that, but I’ll double check. Then we start the separation.”
She raised another finger before he could interrupt.
“Second, we will have to make a cake. That will take the longest since we have to wait for it to dry. ”
“Cake?”
Lars’ face clearly said she had lost her marbles, but that’s okay. Talking out loud was more for herself, it helped her focus.
“Finally—”
She raised a third finger.
“—evaporate, sublimate, bathe.”
She started ticking off items on her other hand.
Lars just stood there, so Anika ran to the front shop and came back with a chair. She set him up at the smaller workbench, off to the side, where he’d be out of the way.
“What’s this?”
His eyes tracked her as she flitted around the room, moving with practised familiarity. She collected a few supplies and brought them to Lars.
“It will be quicker if you help. You can prepare the bath.”
“I don’t know how to—”
“Nonesense. Know-how is not needed here. Just throw all these in the pot, heat until it boils, then stir to the left for 5 minutes. Remove from heat—oh, I’ll just write it down.”
She turned to look for something to write on.
“Here.”
And that was when it happened. Lars took out his legendary notepad, flipped it to a blank page, and set it down.
“Huh?”
Did he want her to…? Was he letting her…? She reached towards the pencil he placed next to the pristine white page.
“Write down the instructions.”
Lars gave her an impatient look.
Outwardly, Anika held back all comments. Picking up the pencil and jotting down the instructions, nice and neat so he could read it. Internally, her brain was doing a dance. This was progress! A milestone, really. They were finally working as a team.
When she collected the last of the necessary ingredients, she organized herself at the large workbench in the centre of the backroom.
First, she added the remaining sample into a globe glass half full of elemental reagent. The reaction was immediate. It began separating into layers. It would take only a few minutes for this stage to complete. Most liquid potions split into two layers. The sludge formed the bottom layer as it was the heaviest. It comprised all the extra ingredients added to the base ingredient to give a potion or other alchemical mix its specific effects. The sludge was used-up ingredients, trash.
It was the other layer, or in this case, layers, that mattered. Separation wasn’t complete, but it was clear one layer was thicker than the other. The thinner of the two was green. Unlike the sludge, it had less viscosity but no impurities, just an undiluted green, slightly see-through layer. The green indicated that the base ingredient had a strong earth affinity. Anika had figured the same thing out from her at-home tests.
The top layer was what stumped her. It was a vibrant ruby red, yet it rippled with an orange undertone. The colour was unlike any she’d seen before, and Theo had made her deconstruct countless potions—Anika was no novice. She also couldn’t place the layer's elemental affinity.
The first time, in her apartment, she had attempted to verify her findings by brewing a tiny warming potion from the red layer. However, things went a little awry. There may have been a minor explosion. And Urri ignored her for the rest of the day. But she did learn that the red was not indicative of a fire element. Thus, she knew not to try it a second time.
Anika went in with a different tactic this time. Regeneration. It was tricky, but she knew the steps. Her plan was to regenerate the primary ingredient Theo used to make the potion.
Once the separation was complete, she siphoned the elemental layers into a clean and empty glass. She poured the elemental waters, the proper name for the coloured layers, into a shallow glass dish, completely submerging a carefully folded strip of gossamer inside. She sealed the dish, took the cake to a drying tray, and went to check on Lars. It wouldn’t take long to dry—the sample size wasn’t very large.
Lars was on his third round of stirring when she checked in.
“How’s it going?”
His arm had to be tired, she knew from first-hand experience.
“Fine, I think. Look, I need to tell you some stuff.”
There was clear reluctance in his tone.
“Okay.”
Anika gave him a warm smile. He took a deep breath and launched into his story. Focusing intently on his stirring to avoid eye contact.
“When I was a kid my older sister up and left overnight, or so they say. Her friends told my parents she always talked about leaving Last Stand behind, making the journey to the Citadel. There was no proof of a crime, and no body found, so the protectorate agreed she was a runaway.”
He spoke robotically, clearly trying to suppress his emotions.
“Just like that?”
It wasn’t common, but it wouldn’t be the first instance of a citizen running off in the name of faith. Some Followers of the Pure just felt that inspired, or crazed, by their religion. Anika had some experience with the Followers.
“Just like that.”
Lars confirmed in a clipped tone.
“What’s your sisters name?”
“Ryn.”
“Dang, that must have been really hard for you. Could you explain to me how it ties to the case?”
Anika watched him as he changed the direction he was stirring, his posture rigid.
“Doesn’t directly. But I wonder how diligent the investigation was.”
“Why?”
Lars’ arm moved mechanically as he recounted the story on autopilot.
“Because a few years later my parents were murdered. I was the one to find the bodies. Protectorate closed the case just as quickly as my sisters. Said it was a robbery gone wrong. Found no evidence, no clues. Stuffed it away with the few other cold cases in Last Stand.”
She thought she saw him shudder as he told her about his parents. The story was lacking in a lot of details; she still didn’t understand why he was telling her, and she felt it would be rude to ask again. So she sat quietly, letting him share what he would in his own time.
“It’s why I became an investigator. Nothing made sense. I wanted the access to check it out myself. Fell to the backburner over the years when I couldn’t dig up anything new. Until that book, Key Figures. One of the people listed was my great-great-grandfather, Harlyk Von Cercher. I guess he worked at BioCorp before becoming one of the first protectors back in the early days of the protectorate.”
“No way.”
It wasn’t her best response, but Anika doubted he cared. He was relaying what he viewed as facts pertinent to the case, not trying to have a heart-to-heart.
“I think the Protectorate is lying and covering up something big that happened during the Corruption Wars. And I think Harlyk and my parent's murder are a part of it.”
She agreed there could be something to his theory. The protectorate was comprised of some dodgy people. His suspicion was reasonable.
“Just keep it in mind, Anika. We have no idea what we’re getting ourselves into.”
He stopped talking after that. And she felt more subdued as she worked now. Lars’ story was a hard one. She knew something of hardship but nothing like what he’d experienced. They’d have to discuss it more after they figured out the potion.
Anika took the baked cake off the drying tray and back to the workbench. With a sharp silver knife, she diced the cake and then funnelled it into yet another clean glass container; this one had a long, thin neck.
An oak stopper was immediately put in place to prevent outside elements and pollutants from contaminating the diced cake. She placed the bulbous end of the bottle in a stand positioned over a burner and applied a gentle heat. Barely visible vapour leaked from the pieces and evaporated through the porous wooden stopper.
When all the mist dissipated, she removed the glass from the heat. With a long, hollow syringe, she injected a bit of Organical Regeneration Tonic—named by Theo—over the purified and processed pieces of hardened elemental water cake.
The tonic would add moisture back into the cake, causing it to become malleable and reshape itself into the original ingredient. It would then fully regenerate from its primordial components.
As she withdrew the syringe, she heard a muffled voice from out front of the shop.
"Yes, I’m at the alchemists shop. What are my orders?"
Her head snapped up, and she locked eyes with Lars.
"It will be done."
The voice replied to someone they couldn’t hear.
“It’s the high protector. We gotta go. Now.”
Lars whispered, immediately stopping what he was doing and putting his notepad away.
Anika looked at Lars with wide eyes. She slid the regenerating sample off the table, shoved as many items from the worktable into her bag as possible, and then moved over to Lars. She poked him, motioning for him to follow.
Behind a bookshelf was a secret escape hatch in the back of the shop. It was mostly in case the shop was engulfed in flames from a concoction gone wrong. But also in case the Protectorate came sniffing. Lars had been right. Rubedo was chock-full of explosive, or at least explosive material, among other... paraphernalia.
She handed the potion to Lars as she wrestled the door open. It was small; they’d have to crouch to get through the tunnel, but it led into an alley behind the shop. The hatch was their only chance of escape.
It was a short tunnel, but it took time since they had to move through hunched over. Anika could hear a commotion inside the shop. Loud footsteps pounding in through the front door.
“Lars Von Cercher, Anika Twile, you are under arrest!”
High Protector Velric shouted.
They hurried through the escape tunnel, and Lars whispered instructions to Anika.
“They’re onto us. We’re not safe in the city. Can you access Theo’s house?”
He spoke in a rush.
“Yes.”
The small hatch opened behind them. The protectors had found the escape door.
“Get them!”
Velric commanded.
“Split up when we get outta here. Then meet me there.”
Lars talked over the noise from their pursuers, not bothering with whispering anymore.
Anika had butterflies in her stomach. BioCorp had been dangerous, but she’d had a home to run back to. This time, she was running from her home.
Oh no, Urri! How would she get her cat? She’d have to go back for him.
“You take the potion. Don’t drop it, get dust in it, or expose it in any way. It’s not complete until it turns white. If it’s opened before that then the whole thing is wasted. Try not to shake it too much. Make another bath for it—Theo should have the ingredients at her place—and once it’s white rinse it in the bath.”
At the end of the tunnel, Anika slowed momentarily to explain this all to Lars, though she couldn’t see his face in the dark, enclosed space.
“Why can’t you take it?”
She sighed softly. She would rather he just agreed.
“I have to run back to my apartment for something.”
“Are you insane? They’ll be all over that place next.”
He almost sounded concerned for her. If the moment wasn’t so dire, she would’ve been touched.
“Well, hopefully I beat them there.”
With that, she burst through the hatch at the end of the tunnel and took off at a sprint down the alleyway. Arms and legs pumping as hard as they could. Her heart was pounding in her chest so hard it hurt. But she wouldn’t, couldn’t, leave Urri to the protectorate. Lars could find someone to identify the plant if the regeneration works, so long as he follows her instructions. Everything would be fine.