06 - A mage in green
“Council Mages play an important role in enhancing and supporting the Agency. Most significantly, they significantly outperforms current theta detectors in their ability to detect and track magic.
As they’re often permanently attached to Agency units, it is a common mistake to consider them part of the Agency itself, and it is occasionally suggested that they should be integrated in ThauCon’s organization and operational strategy.
That, however, won’t happen. The war on magic can’t be won by relying on magic. The Agency for Thaumological control is a proud successor of the Silver Men Society, founded to stand against the tyranny of mages. Therefore, it must stay fully separated and independent from the Council of Loyal Mages, which it is tasked to surveil and control.”
ThauCon Strategical Doctrine
Two weeks after my arrival, we get our first emergency deployment. Theta detectors pick up a signal while we’re on duty, sounding a shrill alarm, and a moment later I receive orange neuralink alerts flashing at the corner of my sight.
We pause the movie Kaelich made us watch - Ocean Woman, an action-packed idiocy that is half plot holes, half propaganda for the One World Alliance - and read the message.
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CODE ORANGE - ONGOING MAGICAL EVENT - NO HARM TO PERSONS
Event origin: single human mage
Intensity: level 1.2, uncertainty 0.3
Signature: unknown
Modulation: unconfirmed - likely paths: Mind (74%), Lies (43%), Fold (12%)
Information: no further details yet
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I’ve just finished reading when a voice channel opens to the whole squad. It’s actual, spoken voice comm - official operating procedure doesn’t allow StemLink. Mostly because the manuals were last updated 50 years ago.
“Corporal Aeniki here. I’m doing signal analysis,” our specialist corporal says. I’ve yet to meet her in the flesh, but she always sounds bored and depressed. “It looks like the magical event is already over. I bet it’s a rogue mage charming some poor sod.”
“Blue leader here. Do we deploy?” Kaelich asks, eager.
“Lieutenant here. Affirmative,” Sareas – the Lieutenant currently on duty - answers. “Take the chopper. You should get there in time to get a signature.”
Once we have a rogue mage’s signature, they’re pretty much fucked. We’ll detect any magic they use, anywhere.
Only problem, to read a magical signature we need a mage of our own.
“Uh, sir, we don’t have our Council Agent yet,” Kaelich says. “Can we borrow one?”
A moment of pause.
“I’ll send you Jaeleri, he’s the only one currently on reserve duty,” Sareas says, exasperated. “If he doesn’t cooperate, do everyone a favor and shoot him.”
Sorivel winces. I haven’t met mage Jaeleri yet, but everyone speaks his name like a curse.
“First team deployment! And we get the chopper, too!” Kaelich says, upbeat. Xe raises his hand, like xe wants to high-five, then looks at us, and hastily lowers it.
“Well, we should go. You’re all ready, right?” xe says, sounding anxious.
We’re already wearing full combat gear – when we’re on active watch duty, our job is to stand fully armored in one of the watchtowers, in case the Order of the Broken Moon comes to steal our snow, I guess.
It would be more efficient to wait by the quad-copter, but rules are rules. So we grab our weapons and run for the chopper. Sorivel’s drones, some flying, some crawling, follow him like disturbing mechanical ducklings.
The hangar is an ugly concrete nest perched above the base core. Steel catwalks connect it to the watchtowers, and the metal creaks horribly under our boots. I’ll really have to make a note in my next report, this fucking thing looks two rusty nails away from collasping under our feet.
At least for once it isn’t snowing, so we won’t slip to our deaths. It’s a bright, cloudless day, the first I’ve seen in this Lords-forsaken place. On such a day, the endless white around the base almost looks good. The base is on a hill, and below us, the city of Rakavdon unfolds, all domes and slender towers and a spiderweb of frosted canals.
The quad-copter waits for us at the hangar, and it’s already warming up, its rumble shaking the catwalk under our feet. I wouldn’t admit it to Kaelich, since being enthusiastic about modes of transportation is for children and fools, but I’m excited about flying on it.
The wind from the rotors blows snow in our faces. There’s a second chopper next to it, but it looks like it’s been grounded for a long time – the docking gate appears rusted in place. Can it still fly? I’ll have to check that for my next report. But for now, the mission.
We board the quad-copter, and I’m pretty satisfied with our efficiency - less than a minute from receiving the signal to taking our seats. After we strap in, however, the doors don’t close.
“We’re ready. Where’s Jaeleri?” Kaelich asks.
Oh, right. The mage.
“He’s arguing that he’s assigned to support Team Green, and I can’t order him to follow Team Blue on a deployment,” Sareas says, sounding one inch away from a screaming fit. “That’s bullshit, of course, I’ll kick his ass all the way there if he doesn’t shut up and run.”
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“Captain, give me strength,” Sorivel says, “all mages are damned to eternal suffering for their sins. But I hope Jaeleri will get some extra suffering.”
“Let’s hope we get a better mage,” I say, looking at the chronometer. “We should have prepared for this contingency, though, and asked LT to keep a reasonable mage on call. That said, we could save some time by starting the equipment check.”
Kaelich looks confused for a moment, then straightens xir back.
“Right. Equipment check,” xe says, nodding, “of course.”
“We never did it, just to be clear,” Sorivel says. “We never go up against any real threat.”
“It’s a good habit to take. Especially if you want to be taken seriously as a team,” I answer. At Intelligence School, they made us live by checklists.
“Heavenly Doctor, help us,” Sorivel grumbles. “You’ll make Kael a stickler for rules, too. As if xe wasn’t sinful enough already.”
Despite the complaints, Sorivel starts to check his own equipment. I’m not sure what to make of our drone controller, yet. After that morning conversation, we haven’t talked much, and he seems to be mostly composed of sarcasm, pessimism, and religious mumbling. All in all, a nicer personality than most techies. But I can’t tell if his religious tirades are actual zeal, or his special brand of irony.
I shake my head. Enough idle thoughts. I should check my own equipment.
Sword, clean and properly sheathed. Dagger, same.
Pistol, functional, secured, ten silver bullets ready.
Armor diagnostic is all green, but I manually check for the silver scales on the inside. Combat armor includes nine kilograms of silver - more than enough to deal with a rogue mage, should they still be on site. Combat drugs - three doses of Rush, three of Still. Injection system green.
Helmet connected to armor, HUD diagnostic all green. I check that the visor lowers on command, but keep it open.
Two theta grenades, functional and ready.
“I’m ready,” I say.
“So am I,” Kaelich answers. “Now, if only we could have a mage…”
We double-check our equipment, and then we still have to wait a whole minute, increasingly annoyed, before Mage Jaeleri arrives.
He’s a short, scrawny boy who looks like a cat dragged him out of a sewer. His red-and-gold council robe is way too large, he has to roll up the sleeves, and the hem is filthy from dragging on the floor. His white skin has a sickly greenish tint, his hair is messy and oily - Lord of Sand, I know council mages don’t have to follow military regulations, but this is just disgusting.
“Welcome, Jaeleri,” Kaelich says, managing to sound friendly. “Strap in, we’re going. Did you get the brief?”
Jaeleri steps on the chopper, insufferably slow, and looks at us like we were live roaches he found in his milk.
“Sareas told me there’s a theta peak,” he mumbles. “She ordered me to assist you. I don’t have to follow your orders, though.”
Seated next to him, Sorivel mumbles and draws a sign in midair - some religious bullshit. I wonder if he does that for any mage, or just this particular one.
Kaelich lips move, even if xe doesn’t speak – like many people, xe mouths the words when communicating via implants. Xe must have talked to the pilot, because the doors close, and finally we take off.
We rise quickly over the ThauCon base, which doesn’t look less depressing from above - it’s a thick square box with a few outlying buildings and four guard towers. The snowy hill below, however, is beautiful in the afternoon sun, and soon we get a great view of the city.
With a fresh coat of snow, Rakavdon looks like something out of a fairy tale. The river cuts the city like a silver ribbon, and frozen canals, white with snow, glint through the whole city. The parks around the university look like a maze of green and white, domes shine in the afternoon sun, and tall skyscrapers break from the white like shining swords. In the distance, airships circle the skyport like lazy, ponderous whales.
Seen from above, dazzling with snow, Rakavdon looks like a healthy, prosperous city. And with its wealthy university and the relic study center, it’s faring better than most cities in the Alliance.
But that only means it’s decaying slower. The rot is still there, I spot it with enough attention - a few of the domes are broken, with no sign of active repairs. Whole neighborhoods in the outer city are clearly abandoned, their streets covered in snow nobody cares to sweep. Of the three elegant bridges that cross the river, one is covered with immaculate snow - closed to traffic, even by foot, because the structure is unsound, and the city can’t afford the titanium for the repairs.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Kaelich asks, with a large smile. “Landfall might be the heart of the world, but… like, we call it landfill for a reason. This looks so much better. Where are you from in Zelenia? What does it look like?”
“Ter Valentis,” I answer. “A port city. It never snowed there. We had plenty of sand, though. I don’t want to see sand ever again.”
It’s an understatement. The rivers feeding the oasis around Ter Valentis are drying up. Water rationing started when I was a child, and it’s been getting ever worse. The harbor is silting up, demons infest the suburbs, fallout from the nuclear weapons used in the Zelenian Revolt poisons the farmland. The whole southern Zelenian economy is spiralling to collapse, and the city is depopulating.
“My family was from Ter Siveli,” Sorivel adds, barely loud enough to hear over the rotors’ noise. “They moved to Karesia when I was a child, though. I grew up in Greenport, which is a place of sin and desperation. This city is a place of sin, too, but in a nicer way.”
Sorivel and I look at each other, and I feel a moment of true connection. Ter Siveli is - was - a few hundred kilometers east of Ter Valentis. The desert swallowed it already, and it’s completely abandoned. Sorivel and I know, viscerally, that the world is dying. We have known since we were children.
“I hope you’ll invite me over when you visit home,” Kaelich says, blissfully unaware of the subtext, as xe tends to be. “I’ve never been to Zelenia.”
Aeniki saves us from having to answer.
“We found the victim, who is unharmed,'' she says, making it sound like it’s bad news “He’s a very rude jeweler. A young mage came in and robbed him, with overt use of magic, but no violence. From his description, the mage used the Path of Lies. Significant power, for a self-taught mage. But xe’s probably far gone by now.”
“Can we still get a magical signature, Jaeleri?” Sorivel asks.
The mage shrugs. “In theory, I guess. But you know I’m not much good with magic, right?”
“What does that even mean? You’re a mage,” I snap.
“I’m a mostly theoretical mage,” he answers, sounding offended. “I have the Talent, but can barely do anything with it. I meant to study magical theory, before they pressed me to serve in this frozen shithole.”
Kaelich closes his eyes, and his voice is strained when xe speaks again. “So, can you detect and identify a magical signature?”
“Maybe,” Jaeleri mumbles. “On a good day. If we get there fast enough. But today I don’t feel like it. I told Sareas.”
I subvocalize to send a Stemlink message, so that he can’t hear.
MESSAGE, TEAM: Is he always like this?
KAELICH, TEAM: Sometimes even worse. I’ve seen him request a triple-signed order to pass the salt at lunch.
SORIVEL, TEAM: “The Heavenly Officers measure our virtue and our sin, and punish or reward us accordingly.”
KAELICH, TEAM: And what did I do to deserve this guy?”
SORIVEL, TEAM: You did plenty of sins. Lust, laziness, deceit, disrespect, and that’s just in the last week. But honestly, I meant that as a consolation. Whenever Jaeleri speaks, think he’ll be tormented by demons for millennia. It helps a lot.
I still can’t tell if he’s bullshitting us with the religion or not, but I fail to repress a snicker.