Splintered gates, p.21
Splintered Gates, page 21
“Which would allow precise targeting for the convergent gateway,” Alison added. “Rather than creating a generalized opening, he could selectively establish connections to specifically identified realms.”
The sophistication of Lang’s research was both impressive and deeply troubling. This wasn’t some reckless practitioner experimenting with forces beyond his understanding, but a methodical scientist who had spent decades developing detailed knowledge of dimensional mechanics and the specific entities he intended to contact.
I discovered one final journal hidden behind a false panel in the desk. It was newer than the others, with entries dated within the past month. The content provided the context we’d been looking for:
Final calibrations complete. The convergent gateway will allow controlled access to seven primary consumption realms, creating a cascading energy transfer system that can be harnessed for specific application. Initial entity manifestation will be directed toward designated sacrifice zones, providing sufficient baseline consumption to establish stable transit conditions while preserving essential infrastructure. Subsequent boundary expansion can be regulated through selective reinforcement of primary keystones, maintaining operational control throughout the integration process.
“He thinks he can control it,” I said, the picture coming into focus as I read farther. “But what does this have to do with getting to James? Lang has designed the system to direct the initial predatory consumption toward specific targets while protecting areas he considers valuable.”
“Sacrificing portions of reality to save others,” Alison said. “Playing god with dimensional boundaries.”
“But the control mechanism depends on maintaining perfect balance across all connection points. Any disruption to the system would result in uncontrolled consumption spreading beyond his designated sacrifice zones.”
“Creating exactly the catastrophic boundary collapse your mother warned about in her research,” Alison said quietly.
The connection to my mother’s work was a sobering reminder of the personal stakes. My mother had documented potential failure modes and catastrophic consequences that Lang’s journals acknowledged but dismissed as manageable.
As we prepared to exit the hidden study, I noticed one final detail—a small photograph partially concealed beneath research notes on the desk. It showed a younger Lang standing beside a woman I recognized: my mother.
I turned the photograph over to reveal an inscription on the back: Elizabeth and Johnny, Boundary Mechanics Symposium, 1991. The gateway awaits our key.
The personal connection between Lang and my mother added another layer to an already tangled situation. I carefully securing the sample of threadlike material while helping Alison prepare the evidence for transport.
As we exited the hidden study, returning to the main warehouse level where Agency personnel awaited our findings, I felt the threadweaving concealment Nadia had taught me still active within my magical signature. The silver thread connecting us remained perceptible, a reminder of commitments beyond Agency protocols.
The next step would be sharing our discoveries with Mercer and finding an opportunity to deliver the material sample to Nadia for analysis. The threadlike substance might provide insights into Lang’s control mechanisms that conventional Agency approaches would miss.
With less than thirty hours remaining before Lang could potentially recalibrate his network, every piece of information mattered, including those pieces I carefully withheld from official documentation. I had to maintain the balance between my role as a consultant and my collaboration with Nadia, Matthew, and Marcus.
As Alison coordinated the evidence transport, I took one final look at the concealed control circle—the master interface for a system designed to open doorways between worlds that should remain forever separate. The circle contained elements I had unknowingly helped create, incorporated into a design my mother had warned against decades ago.
CHAPTER 17
“The difference between a tool and a weapon lies not in its design but in the intention and skill of its user. The most dangerous practitioners are those who see possibilities where others see only prescribed functions.”—From “Advanced Applications of Standard Equipment,” Shamrock Disposal Agency technical manual
The Agency’s technical division was buried on the fourth sublevel of headquarters, as far from the polished corporate façade above as you could get. Down here, no one bothered with sleek aesthetics. Exposed conduits ran along the ceiling, doors were marked with hazard classifications that would give OSHA nightmares, and the constant hum of magical suppression fields reminded you that one wrong move could mean disaster.
Johnson’s workshop was tucked away behind extra security that said more about his work than any briefing ever could. I’d been inside a few times before, but the organization still impressed me—tools arranged with surgical precision, reference materials sorted by some system only he understood, workstations that looked purpose-built for specific tasks rather than general tinkering.
“Most techs prioritize containment over precision,” Johnson explained, demonstrating what he called the basic technique with one of his drafting pencils. “They establish a complete isolation field before attempting extraction, essentially cutting the energy source off from everything around it.”
I watched as he worked on a small crystal about the size of a golf ball, recovered from one of Lang’s properties. The thing pulsed with an ominous reddish light that made my skin crawl. The tip of Johnson’s drafting pencil glowed faintly as it connected with the crystal, drawing a thin stream of luminescent power into the containment vial at the end.
“The isolation-first method is safe but inefficient,” he continued, his movements careful and deliberate. “It often triggers defensive mechanisms in the target object, causing energy spikes that make the extraction messier and can damage valuable information in the energy patterns.”
This was part of my training in advanced extraction techniques—a priority assignment from Director Mercer after what we’d found at Lang’s warehouse. With similar devices popping up all over the city, stretching Agency resources thin, they needed more extraction specialists yesterday.
“Your approach at Westside Park showed promising adaptation,” Johnson noted. “You established a partial connection before isolation, allowing a controlled energy transfer that preserved the signature’s integrity.”
I kept my face neutral despite the knot forming in my stomach. What Johnson saw as innovative technique was actually my morph abilities working through the drafting pencil, absorbing energy in a way no regular breaker could. The fact that he thought it was something others could copy rather than evidence of what I really was? Stroke of luck I wasn’t about to question.
“It seemed like the right call to maintain the energy during transfer,” I replied carefully, keeping it technical rather than revealing my actual approach.
Johnson nodded, looking pleased. “I’ve developed these modified drafting pencils with adjustable isolation parameters.” He showed me a set of silver instruments similar to the one he’d been using, but with additional controls built into their design. “They allow calibrated connection during extraction, maintaining signature integrity while ensuring containment security.”
He handed me one of the modified pencils, watching as I tested its weight and balance. The tool responded to my magical signature with a subtle resonance—recognizing me as an authorized user based on the credentials Mercer had set up for this training.
“We’ll start with stable sources before moving to the more volatile devices being found in the field,” Johnson said, gesturing toward a series of contained objects arranged on a testing platform. “Each presents different extraction challenges—layered signatures, defensive mechanisms, unstable configurations.”
The training progressed with Johnson demonstrating techniques that I then replicated under his watchful eye. The modified drafting pencils were genuinely impressive—far more sophisticated than the standard Agency equipment I’d used before, with sensitivity and precision that almost approached my natural abilities as a morph.
As we worked through more complex scenarios, I noticed patterns in the energy signatures of the recovered devices—consistencies that suggested they came from the same source despite their different physical forms. All contained elements similar to what we’d found at Lang’s warehouse, especially those threadlike structures connecting different components within each magical construct.
“These all share the same basic structure despite looking completely different,” I said, examining a particularly complex arrangement of crystal fragments suspended in a metallic frame. “The energy pattern even stays consistent.”
Johnson nodded, looking pleased by my observation. “Director Mercer thought you might notice that connection. Your experience with Lang’s operations gives you context our technical team initially lacked.” He adjusted the monitoring equipment to record the extraction process as I prepared to work on this new specimen. “These devices appear designed primarily as energy distribution nodes rather than functional tools in themselves.”
“Distribution nodes for what purpose?” I asked, though I had a pretty good idea, based on what we’d found at the warehouse.
“That’s still under investigation,” Johnson replied carefully. “But preliminary analysis suggests they’re establishing a secondary network that parallels the summoning circle configuration identified at the primary field locations.”
A backup system, then—or maybe an enhancement to the original gateway design. Lang was adapting his approach in response to our disruption of the keystones, creating redundant pathways that would make further intervention harder.
I proceeded with the extraction, using the drafting pencil to establish connection with the device’s energy core. As the signature transferred into the containment vial, I maintained careful control while also extending my morph abilities through the tool—not fully absorbing the energy as I normally would, but sensing its properties more directly than the equipment alone could manage.
The energies matched the predatory realms Lang was trying to access through his gateway. But more concerning was how these energies seemed to adapt and respond to extraction methods in real time, adjusting to resist containment.
“There’s something intelligent about this signature,” I said, careful to frame my observation in terms Johnson would interpret as good perception rather than morph abilities. “The energy isn’t just reactive. It’s adapting.”
Johnson leaned closer, studying the monitoring displays with increased interest. “Can you isolate that component for separate analysis?”
“I think so,” I replied, already adjusting my approach to target the intelligence signature specifically. This required manipulation beyond the drafting pencil’s design, using my natural abilities to identify and separate energy components while making it look like I was achieving this through conventional technique.
The separation worked, resulting in two distinct energy samples—the primary power signature in the main containment vial and the intelligence component in a secondary receptacle I’d prepared. Johnson examined both with fascination, particularly the isolated intelligence pattern that pulsed with unsettling rhythm in its containment field.
“Remarkable extraction precision,” he commented, recording detailed notes on the procedure.
The training continued for several hours, working through increasingly complex extraction scenarios as Johnson evaluated my capabilities. By midafternoon, we’d processed over a dozen recovered devices, each providing additional insights into Lang’s evolving network design.
“You’ve got real aptitude with these techniques,” Johnson concluded as we completed the final scheduled extraction. “Director Mercer will be pleased. We’ll continue advanced training tomorrow, focusing on field application protocols for unstable signatures.”
Once Johnson had been called to another laboratory for consultation, I found myself temporarily alone in the workshop. With the official training complete for the day, I could explore applications that went beyond Agency protocols without anyone watching.
I selected one of the contained energy samples—a particularly complex signature with multiple demonic components—and transferred a small portion to a testing chamber. Using a combination of standard drafting pencil techniques and carefully concealed morph abilities, I began experimenting with more direct manipulation of the energy patterns.
Where conventional extraction focused on containment and preservation, my natural abilities allowed transformation and redirection, reshaping energy signatures at a fundamental level rather than simply moving them from one container to another. With the drafting pencil serving as both tool and cover story, I could develop techniques that appeared to follow Agency methodology while actually using morph capabilities in ways no standard practitioner could achieve.
The demonic energy responded to this hybrid approach in unexpected ways, resisting initial manipulation attempts before suddenly yielding, as though recognizing something familiar in my intervention. The sensation was unsettling, reminiscent of my experience absorbing energy from the Olban Pines circle, but more controlled, more deliberate.
Most concerning was the way the energy seemed to analyze my signature during the interaction. It didn’t just react to extraction attempts, but actively processed information about my approach, adapting to my specific manipulation patterns in ways that suggested learning rather than simple reactivity.
My experimentation was interrupted by an alert tone from the main laboratory communication system. It was a priority notification regarding new device discoveries across multiple city locations. I restored all equipment to its proper configuration before accessing the alert details on an authorized terminal.
The information wasn’t good. Twelve new devices had been identified within the past hour, distributed in a pattern that formed yet another geometric configuration across the city. Agency response teams were deploying to all locations, but resources were stretched dangerously thin as the frequency of discoveries increased.
I studied the distribution, recognizing its relationship to the circle we’d discovered at Lang’s warehouse. Something about the timing felt wrong. There were too many devices appearing too quickly, in locations that would inevitably trigger Agency detection.
Unless...
“They’re distractions,” I muttered, the realization hitting me like a brick. “Keeping Agency resources tied up with containment operations while the actual recalibration happens somewhere else. And worse—he may have figured out how to speed up the recalibration.”
I needed to tell Mercer, but also Nadia and Matthew, who might see patterns beyond those the Agency’s analysts would catch. The threadlike material I’d collected from Lang’s warehouse remained secured in my personal equipment, awaiting delivery to Nadia for the kind of analysis only a threadweaver could perform.
Before I could decide my next move, Johnson returned to the laboratory, his expression reflecting the urgency of the recent alert.
“Director Mercer has requested your participation in priority extraction operations,” he informed me, already preparing additional equipment for field deployment. “Your proficiency with the modified drafting pencils makes you valuable for multiple site processing.”
“This doesn’t feel right,” I said, keeping my voice casual even as my mind raced. “The timing, the placement… It’s too convenient. Like someone wants us chasing our tails across the city.”
Johnson paused, considering. “You think these are decoys?”
“I think Lang is buying time for something else. The energy signatures we’ve been seeing, they’re consistent enough to suggest central coordination. Why scatter a dozen devices across the city at once unless you want maximum response from us?”
“I’ll pass that along to the coordination team,” Johnson said, though he looked troubled. “For now, we still need to contain what’s out there.”
The next hour passed in a blur of equipment preparation, tactical briefings, deployment planning. Throughout it all, I kept checking the clock, calculating how to fulfill both official responsibilities and my planned meeting with Nadia without blowing either commitment.
When the opportunity finally came in the form of a thirty-minute equipment recalibration period that required minimal supervision, I used Nadia’s threadweaving concealment technique to slip away from headquarters undetected, moving through service corridors and auxiliary exits designed for emergency evacuation rather than routine access.
The meeting location Nadia had specified was a small park about ten minutes from Agency headquarters. It was close enough for efficient access but far enough from surveillance coverage to allow private conversation. As I approached the designated bench partially concealed by ornamental cherry trees, I detected her magical signature before I could see her.
“Your agency is certainly busy today,” she observed as I joined her, her violet eyes reflecting ambient light in that way that always seemed slightly more than natural. “Twelve new devices within an hour. Quite the response operation.”
“You’ve been watching,” I said, unsurprised.
“The thread patterns are impossible to miss.” She gestured toward the city skyline, where response vehicles could be seen moving with urgent purpose through afternoon traffic. “The question is whether your colleagues recognize what’s really happening.”
“Distraction,” I said, retrieving the sample of threadlike material from its secure container.
She focused on the sample, her expression shifting to concentration as she extended her threadweaving perception into its structure. The filaments within the material responded to her examination, shifting and realigning in patterns that seemed to reflect her mental queries.
