Myke Cole - Shadow Ops - Control Point

“Raw magic is extremely powerful. If you aren’t safe and controlled, and by this I mean knowing how to cut off the flow and how to Bind the magic safely away from you, you risk becoming what’s called ‘a magic sink.’ Magical energy is like water; as soon as it spots an opening, it puts its full weight behind flowing through it. You are that opening. If you’re not careful, the weight of the current can overwhelm you. Believe me when I tell you that you don’t want that. The Dampener should suffice in this case, but if one of you should begin to go nova, we’ve got plenty of Suppressors here to take the edge off.”

Major Salamander gestured to the body of enrollees. “Our usual practice is to have the more experienced Novices assist their newer peers with their training.” Both he and Stormspinner began to gesture to members of the crowd, who stepped forward to talk to their counterparts. Therese stood forward and faced Britton and Downer. “I’m still fairly new, but I’ve got the basics pretty well down.” Downer smiled shyly at the pretty older woman, and Britton nodded thanks.

The No-No Crew stepped backward, folding their arms across their chests. Wavesign went to join them, but Therese grabbed his upper arm, ignoring how it soaked her to the elbow. “Come on, Ted, you need the training.”

“Not him,” Salamander said, pointing to Britton. He pointed to a small square of four blast barricades twenty yards across the muddy expanse, far away from the rest of group. “He sits in there.”

“Why?” Therese asked.

Salamander paused, stunned. “Young lady, did I not just tell you that I am no longer in the mood for your bullshit right now?”

Therese was unfazed, but Britton answered. “Because I’m a Portamancer. The gates can open up anywhere, including in the middle of this crowd.” He turned to Salamander. “With all due respect, sir, I don’t think those T-walls are going to help. I’ve seen my gates slice a car and a tractor in half. I don’t think the concrete will make much difference.”

Salamander sighed. “I appreciate your respectful tones, Novice, but you are rapidly becoming a fucking burr under my saddle. Now get your ass in the middle of those barricades and await instruction.”

Therese moved to follow. “What the hell are you doing?” Salamander called after her.

“I’m helping,” she replied. “If those barriers can protect us, then I’ll be fine. He needs somebody to talk him through the beginning part, and he’ll do better if it’s someone nice to him.”

“Damn it, Therese!” Salamander called after her.

“Throw me in the hole!” she answered. “Throw us all in the hole. Or you can shoot me.”

Salamander cursed and turned his back on them, saying something to Downer and Wavesign, as Therese and Britton walked off.

“That was brave of you. Thanks,” Britton said to her.

“It’s no big deal,” she said. “Salamander’s a sweetheart, actually. He’s probably the one guy in this whole nasty organization who actually wants to help Latent people. He puts on a show to keep things under control, but in the end, he’s on your side.”

“Therese, he wasn’t kidding. The gates can open anywhere, and they cut through anything.”

She nodded. “I trust you.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. You seem like a good sort. Maybe it’s because you stand up to both Swift and Salamander. Maybe it’s because you tried to protect me back there. Maybe it’s because God tells me so. I’m just going with my gut.”

“Call me Oscar.”

She smiled. “I’m Therese.”

He stepped through the space between the barricades into an enclosed patch of mud roughly five feet square. “What about Swift and the No-No Crew? What does God tell you about them?”

He saw her shrug through the gap between the barriers. “They’re all good, Oscar. Swift’s just trying to cope with his loss, I guess. Pyre’s just a kid. He follows along. The anger is just so…useless is all. I know it’s a bad situation, and I know that none of us want to be here, but…fighting everything, everybody, all the time. Swift isn’t happy just taking his own stand; he wants everyone else to take it with him. The guy’s the definition of bad influence.”

Britton nodded as Therese moved out of his field of vision. “I can understand where he’s coming from. I was already in the army, and they didn’t give me a chance once I came up Latent.”

“Well, here’s your second chance,” Therese said. “If you believe Salamander.”

Britton didn’t answer, unsure if he did or didn’t. You promised yourself you’d find a way out of here. A couple of kind words, and you’re going to forget that?

“You ready to get started? Can you hear me okay?” she called from the other side of the barricade.

“Let’s do this.”

“Have you ever Drawn magic before…?” Therese asked

Britton thought for a moment. “It comes from feelings…emotions. I know it responded to stress when I ran. It picks up when I’m angry or sad.”

“That’s right. Your emotions are the motor, but your brain is the steering wheel.”

“So how do we steer?”

“You just do,” Therese answered. “You have to feel it. Visualization helps. I picture the body whole, and the magic bends that way. Sometimes, I have to push hard, but it works. And you also…talk to the body. Tell it to knit. I don’t how to explain it. You can always try a prayer, Oscar. God never fails me when I reach out for Him.”

Britton frowned, unsettled by her words, thinking of his father’s violent religiosity. But she seemed so different from his father, beautiful where Stanley was ugly, kind where Stanley was cruel. Judge not, he thought, then laughed inwardly at the biblical turn of phrase.

“You’re real religious?” Britton asked.

She nodded.

“I don’t want to go after you about it, but I don’t understand how. The church has been the biggest persecutor of us…oh, my God, I just referred to Latent people as ‘us.’”

Therese laughed. “It makes sense, I guess.”

“I hope I’m not offending you…”

“You’re not, Oscar,” she said. “A lot of people lose religion when they find magic, and I guess that makes sense. I know the church hasn’t been a big supporter. But I mean, hell, it’s not the first time that the church has been turned to work against God’s intentions. You’ve got the Inquisition, the Crusades, clinic bombings, what have you. This is no different. God knows what’s right, and so do those who really follow Him.”

“But doesn’t the very existence of magic turn some of that on its head?” Britton asked.

“Not really,” she said. “But to be honest, I don’t really think about it. I would never have gotten this far without my faith, Oscar, I think I would have given up a long time ago. It keeps me going. When you have something that important to you, sometimes it helps not to ask a lot of questions. Make sense?”

Britton was silent for a moment. It did make sense, but he didn’t like it. He knew it wouldn’t help to say that. “Sure it does,” he said instead. “So, how do we start?”

“You’re going to…get emotional. Recall something significant from your past — an exciting event in your life, something tragic or momentous. You’re going to do your best to channel it. You know how to reach past the Dampener? Activate your emotions?”

Britton thought of his unauthorized use of a gate from just the night before. “Yeah.”

“The Dampener should keep it tight and give you the ability to shunt it back, but if you feel yourself overwhelmed, give a yell and one of the Suppressors on the wall will roll it back for you. Ready?”