Episode 3 - A Fantastical Vacation
Sometimes I wish reality flowed like a movie. Solid intel from a reliable source, clean analysis without the fluff, solid backup and competent agents. It'd be nice if those fantastical operations from films happened one after another.
But this wasn't a movie—it was reality. Shaky intel lacking foundation, analyses riddled with errors. Counterintelligence ops popping up now and then. Polluted info and disinformation. The team's always short-handed, and backup's unreliable. The world is always unpredictable, just like always.
"You mean there are two spies?"
'Circumstantially, yeah.'
The world was nicely crushing my expectations, as expected.
The new intel had turned the site upside down.
The investigators had initially pegged it as a single spy. Now intel said there were two, so of course they were shocked out of their minds.
And sure enough, the team leader burst in with a what-the-hell expression.
"Good to see you, Major. I got the report on the way here. A spy isn't one, but two? What the hell is going on?"
How the hell should I know, I'm not an investigator, I nearly snapped, but instead I silently shoved a document at him.
"From HQ. The list of lab staff personal info that leaked this time."
"We know who leaked it?"
"No, we haven't pinned that down yet."
I had no idea what Clevins's source was, but they were damn competent—at least enough to snag docs from what was presumed to be the Magic Tower's private intel bureau midway.
While the team leader skimmed the document, I pulled another report from the file.
"What's that?"
"Analysts' report."
The analysts had verified everything and roughly dated when the list was made. I had no clue how they pulled that off from just a list, but they were sharp as hell.
Of course, they'd explained the credibility was low due to scant supporting intel.
But we weren't in a position to be picky.
"The list was judged to be from this spring. All the researchers named are confirmed from the bio-analysis lab."
"So the Magic Tower's after bio-analysis lab research results?"
"Circumstantially, yeah."
Of course, this claim lacked solid backing too.
"Due to intel shortages, confirmation bias and other cognitive biases might be at play in the analysis. Judgment could be reversed later."
"Meaning we can't be sure what the Magic Tower's after."
I could ask why a taxpayer-funded intel agency worked like this, but analysts were human too. Without evidence, they had to speculate.
So when intel's thin, analysts float multiple hypotheses, get peers to scrub logical flaws, and pick the lowest-risk one. Devil's advocate, red teaming, high-risk low-probability analysis, brainstorming, A/B team analysis, alternative futures analysis, wild card scenarios, worst-case scenarios—all those techniques.
I'd picked it up chatting with Pippin and the embassy intel analysts.
Of course, the Military Intelligence Agency analysts who'd passed this on had run the same process.
So this was the most realistic hypothesis for now.
"Let's trust the analysts' judgment for now. Any other orders from HQ?"
"Just get Fernand to cooperate."
The team leader sighed deeply and asked me to wait a sec. A short groan slipped from his hand-covered mouth.
"Hoo…."
"Fernand still being uncooperative?"
"Yeah. Won't even eat now."
He said he'd get a confession today, but it didn't look easy.
I wanted to ask if we couldn't just string him up and pull his nails, but even I knew that was inhuman, so I kept it zipped.
Accountability was one issue, but confessions from torture weren't admissible in court anyway. We needed to nab the spy and get him to trial, so torture would just invite backlash later.
Even setting aside legal evidence and accountability, agency image and the unreliability of tortured intel made it unappealing to me too.
Team leader probably thought the same.
"How about a plea deal? His file shows family. If he's prosecuted like this, they'll be branded spy relatives."
"We're trying that."
"Any other ideas?"
"Yeah, I've got a method in mind."
I wasn't an investigator anyway, so no authority to meddle. This was their problem.
I skipped the headache for an even bigger one.
"How do you plan to find who leaked the personal info?"
*
"How do you do this?"
"You just do it, and it works?"
Camilla Lowell echoed the researcher's brief explanation in a dazed voice.
"Fly in the sky on a broomstick how?"
"Uh, um…."
The researcher mumbled "You just do it, and it works…," and Camilla stared down at the broom with a blank look.
She'd blurted out she'd try flying upon hearing it was possible, but even after their explanations, she couldn't get how.
Twirling her hair, she muttered indifferently.
"Like a bicycle or something…."
Suddenly, she recalled failing to balance as a kid on her first bike, tipping over.
What if I lose balance mid-air and crash, end up crippled?
"Uh…. If bicycle means those two-wheeled things I think, yes. A bit of practice, and you'll get it quick."
"…Yes?"
"If you fail balance or control, you might crash into something and end up in hospital, but practice slow in a safe spot, and it'll be fine."
Camilla just blinked at the researcher, who glanced at colleagues like Did I explain wrong? with a what'd-I-do look.
Did I offend her? Apologize now? Explain more? As he pondered, Camilla asked.
"What'd you just say?"
"Y-yes? W-what do you mean…?"
"That bicycle thing…."
"Camilla Lowell."
About to press on something important, a familiar voice came from behind.
A major appeared briefcase in hand.
"Major? What brings you here?"
"Passing by, stopped in. Practicing magic?"
The researchers startled at the sudden soldier, hastily hiding the broom.
Caught teaching broom-riding to the unlicensed? Punishment time.
Broom accidents weren't rare, so post-law, teaching unlicensed was illegal.
Camilla might get off with a warning given her status and otherworld origin.
But they'd face worse. Fine if lucky, jail if not.
And they were civil servants. Mess up pension eligibility, career toast.
They eyed the soldier warily, but he was focused chatting with Camilla.
"Besides fire, you handle other stuff? Like lightning bolts or ice spikes?"
"Not that far yet. Maybe after lessons?"
"Who knows…. Not a mage, so no clue."
While colleagues stashed the broom far away, the instructor chimed in.
"Hero has high mana affinity, so she'll learn fast!"
"Really? Affinity relates to learning magic?"
At the sudden question, the researcher recalled his rejected paper, shoved aside the funeral-like lab vibe, and dove in.
"Of course! Mana affinity mostly determines aptitude for elemental, arcane, shamanic, spirit magic, and such…."
A long explanation followed, but the soldier just nodded blankly.
After listening awhile, he spoke.
"Camilla Lowell, your high mana affinity means you'll learn other magics quick."
"Yeah."
"Good news. Congrats."
"Ehehe…."
He chatted briefly with the Hero, sent her off elsewhere, then approached the researcher, voice low.
"Saw you teaching broom-riding earlier. Illegal for unlicensed, you know?"
"…."
"Crackdown period. Caught now, you'll go to trial. Jail or warning—which you prefer?"
"…Hoo, warning."
"Good?"
Then let's talk.
*
After the endless meeting, I returned to the office.
En route, heard investigation updates, grilled the illegal-teaching researcher, confirmed Camilla Lowell tucked in.
Back, made calls, finished reports—time past midnight.
Misty fog glowed silver in pre-dawn. Alone in the office, sorting papers.
Knock knock.
"Come in."
"Sir! Reports, Major."
"Set 'em there. Good work."
"I'll head out. Rest well."
The nameless investigator dropped papers and left. Silence fell.
Lab staff and Camilla asleep; only rotating guards and investigators awake quietly.
I stared at papers long, closed the cover, rubbed my face.
"…."
No gains.
Investigators probed Fernand, but uncooperative.
Researcher yielded nothing useful; papers no glaring issues.
Three questions nagging:
One: How'd the Magic Tower plant a spy in the lab?
Two: How'd they get staff personal info?
Three: What data's the spy after?
No answers.
Leaning back, recalled team leader chat.
'How find the leaker?'
'Investigation shows only HR and Internal Affairs handle staff records.'
'HR makes sense, but why Internal Affairs?'
'For audits, internal probes. Personally, leak likely from HR or Internal Affairs.'
'…Then.'
'Internal Affairs now a target too.'
Total mess.
Traitor inside lab, aiding spy.
Likely helped spy infiltrate.
Or spy dodged background check, got in, then recruited someone.
I leaned first, but second not impossible.
Spies find ways in.
"…."
Clevins sent me here for "site inspection," tasked investigation support.
Duty clear: Hunt spy traces max.
Team leader asked, I obliged fully.
Now wait.
"…."
Eyes closed, reclined.
Misty fog silver, distant boiler hum.
Ring ring! Ring ring!
Phone rang.
"…Hello?"
'It's me, Major. Found the data you wanted.'
The one I'd waited for.
"Go ahead."
Saintess Veronica.