“My most amazing Faker!” Naymond said with theatrical excitement as the other detectives flocked out of the room with their mentees. “You have no idea just how motivated I am to finally have a Faker in my employ.”

“He’s not in your employ,” Alfa said.

Apart from Naymond, the African girl whose name Melmarc felt bad for already forgetting, and himself, Alfa was the only one left.

Alfa walked away from the lectern and stood with them. “He’s under my employ. And so are you. That makes you colleagues.”

Naymond gave her an exaggerated pout. “Does that mean I don’t get to boss him around?”

Alfa looked like a new mother with an overactive child.

“It means that you only get to order him within reason, and he can intentionally choose to disobey you as long as your orders are not within reason.” She pointed an angry finger at him. “And I need that report on my desk by this evening.”

“I’ve already—”

“And don’t lie about having already started it,” she cut him off. “Remember that part of your contract is that I have unlimited access to your work station.”

Naymond gave her a bright smile. “I apologize, detective. I’ll get started on it right away. Also, does asking Mr. Lockwood over here to do the report fall under unreasonable orders?”

Alfa looked at Melmarc. “How much do you know about distortion in space-time mana cracks and its effects on E-rank Gifted?”

The answer was quite simple for Melmarc. He didn’t even understand the bone of the question. In summary, he knew nothing.

Alfa turned back to Naymond. “The look on the kid’s face says that it would be an unreasonable order.”

With that, she stepped out of the room.

Naymond sighed. “We’re going to have to work on your poker face, kid.”

He patted Melmarc on the side of the arm assuringly, then turned to the only other person in the room with them.

“Ms. Oluwapelumi.” He was as theatrical as he’d been since he’d lost interest in his phone. “How have you been? I take it you haven’t been with us long. And by us I mean the country.”

The girl nodded. “And you can call me Pelumi. Most people do.”

Again she pronounced it as Kpe-lu-mi.

“And that’s with a P and no K, correct?” Naymond asked and she nodded. He turned to Melmarc and laughed. “Isn’t that fascinating.”

Melmarc wanted to know how Naymond knew she was new in the country. Was it the accent?

It was clearly African, but he didn’t know enough about the world to know which of the countries in Africa.

Naymond leaned into his line of sight and whispered, “What you got on your mind, kid?”

“Wondering what part of Africa she’s from,” he answered, then added more appropriately: “She’s from Africa, right? I didn’t get it wrong.”

“I am,” Pelumi answered.

Naymond held his arms out wide and twirled out of the room. “Pelumi from Nigeria. The land of the SS-rank Unbound.”

Melmarc was surprised by that. He didn’t think he knew anybody from Nigeria. Delano and Eroms were part Nigerian, but that was like their great-great-grandparents or something. It was why they had the names but didn’t look a single bit African.

Pelumi stared at Naymond as he waited for them outside the conference room. After a while, she turned and offered Melmarc a handshake.

“I came for school two years ago, my family relocated last year,” she said. “So I’m relatively new. I’m sure my accent is what gave it away. Everyone says I sound too Nigerian. Like I’m supposed to sound like something else.”

Melmarc shook her hand. “I hope you aren’t offended by my ignorance.”

“Not at all.”

She released his hand and he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I also hope you don’t get offended if I make a mistake with your name.”

“I could give you my English name if you’d like.”

Melmarc thought about it. “What do you like to be called?”

“Pelumi.”

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“Then I’ll do my best to pronounce it properly.”

She tilted her head, looked at him from a different angle. “You’re a fun one, Mr. Lockwood.”

“Oh, please no.” Melmarc groaned. “Just call me Melmarc. My friends call me Marc.”

“Does anyone call you Mel?”

“Yea, but just family members.”

Pelumi tapped a thoughtful finger to her lips. “I see. Marc it is.”

Just outside the door, Naymond clapped once. “Are you kids done getting to know each other? If yes, may we vacate to my office.”

Surprisingly none of the people in the large office space with the assemblage of work tables paid them much attention as they walked all the way to Naymond’s office.

When they got to the office, Naymond turned a key in the lock and opened it. He didn’t go inside immediately, though. Instead, he stood at the door for a second or two, then stepped in.

Melmarc and Pelumi followed after him.

“Now, you must both be wondering why I chose you.” Naymond strolled behind a table with stacks of papers and a really wide monitor and plopped himself down on the office chair.

It was a swivel chair and he spun on it. When his rotation finished and he was facing them again, he was met with confused looks.

“You do not give a man a swivel chair and expect him not to swivel,” he said. “Now close the door and have a seat.”

Melmarc closed the door, and Pelumi went to sit on one of two chairs on their side of his table.

“Should I open the blinds?” Melmarc asked.

The blinds sheltered the only window in the office with which anyone could see inside or outside.

“It’s interesting that you’d ask that, but leave it closed. I’m not a big fan of them.”

Melmarc nodded, and took the seat beside Pelumi. There was a couch just at the window, but it didn’t feel professional to use it.

“As I was saying,” Naymond said, then spun around again. “Even if our dearest Pelumi isn’t wondering, I’m sure you are, Mr. Lockwood.”

Melmarc was.

“I am.”

“And I’ll be more than happy to tell you… one day. But that day is not today. Today, I’ll put you through the motions of what exactly I do.” He tapped a few keys on his keyboard, pulled his phone out of his pocket and placed it carelessly on the already overfilled table. “I am something of a profiler, and a Gifted analyst.”

“So you’re interested in people?” Pelumi asked.

“Not at all, love.” Naymond chuckled, still tapping away on his keyboard. “I’m interested in the Gifted. Ah! There it is.”

He peeked at Melmarc from around the corner of his moniter. “That’s interesting.”

Melmarc didn’t like the conversational context with which the phrase was used.

He tried not to seem bothered. “What’s interesting, detective Hitchcock?”

“Please, call me Nay. My father was Hitchcock, and I’m not a detective. And as for what I find very interesting, it’s your skills. I haven’t seen someone with [Knowledge Is Power] in forever.”

“You have access to our files?” Pelumi asked, surprised.

Naymond laughed. “Oh gods, no. Your government wouldn’t be that reckless. Detective Alfa, has access to your files. And I have access to Detective Alfa’s computer.”

“You’re hacking it from here through the office network?” Pelumi asked, a little impressed.

“Isn’t that breaking some office rule somehow?” Melmarc asked.

“It is.” Naymond didn’t stop typing. “But I’m doing no such thing. So that’s not the rule I’m breaking.”

Melmarc paused at that. “Why did you say that’s not the rule you’re breaking?”

“If you’re not breaking that rule,” Pelumi said. “Then what rule are you breaking?”

“Ooh. [Bless Your Kindness] is a treat.” For someone breaking a rule, Naymond didn’t seem very bothered. “So [Bless Your Kindness] and [Knowledge Is Power] gave you Faker. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone with those two skills together. And I’ve seen a lot of people.”

Melmarc looked back at the still closed blinds. Wouldn’t people want to be able to see what’s happening outside their office?

Yes, there were people who wouldn’t, but something just felt wrong.

“Mr. Hitchcock?” Pelumi sounded worried.

“Please call me Nay.”

“Nay, what’s going on?”

“What’s going on is this.” Naymond picked up his phone and looked at it. “We’ve got less than eight minutes for me to find your file and see what you’re capable of.”

“If you’re looking for my skills, I could just tell you.”

“You could. But you’ve been deployed to learn under a Gifted who’s a detective. Thus, you’ve been deployed to gain detective skills. So lesson number one, don’t believe everything your subject tells you. Ah, there it is.” He dropped his phone back on the table. “Wow, that one’s a doozy.”

Pelumi looked down and away. Melmarc wasn’t sure if she was embarrassed or flustered.

“[Wrath of Amadioha] is a very rare skill,” Naymond mused. “And it’s one of those skills that are common to tribes and ethnicities. Tell me, our beautiful Invoker, just how did a Yoruba girl like you get a skill most commonly linked to powerful chief priests of the Igbo tribes?”

Pelumi said nothing. Now, she was beginning to seem uncomfortable.

“Mr. Hitch—Naymond,” Melmarc said. “Can you please stop?”

Naymond looked around the monitor at Pelumi. She kept her eyes looking at everything else but them and the monitor.

“In fairness. I didn’t think this through. It is odd, though,” he mused almost to himself. “You’re the Faker but she’s the one with issues having her skills found out about. Anyway, detective lesson number two.”

When Pelumi returned her attention to Naymond, Melmarc was glad. She seemed alright now.

“As a detective,” Naymond continued. “You should always be aware of your surroundings. All detectives know that.”

He tapped a few buttons on the keyboard and got up.

He gave Pelumi a sincere bow. “I know it might not mean much, but I do apologize for the inconvenience.”

Melmarc was looking around the room now. It didn’t take him long to spot something out of place.

It was an award hidden in the mess of stacked papers. He reached for it and stopped before he touched it.

“Ah,” Naymond smiled. “A wise student. A gentleman always leaves a place better than he met it. But a wise man leaves it exactly how he met it.”

Melmarc read the award and looked up at Naymond who was already walking around the table and towards the door.

“You didn’t have access to Detective Alfa’s system because you hacked into it,” Melmarc said. “You had access to it because this is her system.”

“Yes.” Naymond checked his phone again. “And we only have four minutes before she gets back, so I suggest we hurry.”

Too confused to really think about it, Melmarc and Pelumi hurried out of the office. Naymond took his sweet time coming out and locking the door before he led them down another path.

“Please tell me Detective Alfa gave you the keys to her office,” Melmarc pleaded, knowing the answer.

Naymond snorted in amuzement. “Of course not. She knows better than to allow a convicted felon into her office.”

A convicted felon? No one said anything about him being a Felon.

Melmarc was beginning to think a detective that hated him would’ve been a better option than this. Something told him Naymond Hitcock was going to get him into a lot of trouble.

And judging by the looks on Pelumi’s face, she probably thought so too.