Chapter ??

  Technobabblelabbledingdong

  Phoenix groaned behind his office desk, resting his head against his palm; a perfect fit for his right eyesocket. His left eye peered down at the miniature city of documents in front of him.

  “There’s so much here. How could one little trip-up by my father possibly cause all of this?” He thought.

  Along the wall, his butler; the dog-demon Administrative Advisor Chauncey, was shuffling through his own pile of papers, flapping in place and mumbling to himself. He couldn’t quite understand him. He wasn’t sure he WANTED to understand him—but they’ve been perusing all these flattened sheets of cellulose for the better part of a day now and have barely made a dent. There must be something they could do.

  “Chauncey,” Phoenix tried to get his attention.

  “Mmmmpth, requisition forms…” He muttered.

  “CHAUNCEY.”

  “Mmm—What?” His neck (what little of it existed, anyways) twisted back. “I mean: Yes, Your Majesty?”

  Phoenix rubbed his temples, “I think I need a break from this. I’m starting to get a headache.”

  Chauncey nodded, “Yes, yes, a break would be good, yeah.”

  “Is there anything else that needs to be done?”

  “Mhm. Each of the Kingdom’s advisors have petitioned for you to visit their departments. Some have projects which are in dire need of your input before they can continue. Input that can only be made on-site.”

  “Did my father do any of that?”

  “At the start, yes, but after his back problems manifested, uh—no,” Chauncey shook his head. “He just signed off on minor things.”

  “Figures,” Phoenix sighed. “Well, hopefully it will be a nice change of pace. Which one shall we visit first?”

  “That’s up to you, Your Majesty.”

  “Mmm." He thought about it, but ultimately came up short. "I can’t seem to decide.”

  “Oh, then by chance, would you like to spin the wheel?”

  “The wheel? What the hell are you talking about, Chaunce?”

  Just as Phoenix asked that, the little dog-demon’s head shifted to the buck-toothed jester persona, who reached into his black and white striped jingly hat.

  “ThE WhEeL oF InDecIciSiON!” He said, dumbly.

  A spinner wheel lit with MagiLEDs expanded before Phoenix’s eyes. Each of its options corresponded to the Kingdom’s departments, with the sole exception of Administration: Science & Tech, Magic, Economic, Social, and Defense.

  “Just spin the wheel and let it decide!” The jester gestured with an exaggerated grin.

  “This is stupid,” Phoenix remarked.

  “Yes,” the dog-demon lifted his finger, “but it works!”

  Phoenix approached the wheel and gave it a weak spin at approximately 4?? rad/s; any more strength and the thing would run for hours. The ticker produced a satisfying sound, hitting each option’s nails.

  TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTICK-TICK-TICK-TICK-TICK-TICK-TICK-TICK-Tick-Tick-Tick-Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick… tick… tick… tick… DING-DING-DING-DING!

  The spinner’s lights flicked on and off interchangeably, in accordance to the distorted buzzer's beat.

  “The Science & Tech Department!” Chauncey shouted.

  “Woo-hoo,” Phoenix reacted in a weak, boring tone, barely pumping his fist.

  The Science & Tech Department, A.K.A. The IT Department, A.K.A. The Lab, A.K.A. The Research Facility (or just The Facility), A.K.A. Tech Support, A.K.A. You Get The Idea. A large portion of the Kingdom’s budget is split between this and the Magic Department. At one time, Hero-King Solaris was a science enthusiast, not that he really understood its complexities. Ask him to find the solutions to an ordinary differential equation describing a damped harmonic oscillator, given initial conditions, and he will break down crying on the spot. Latin, or in Sfogliatella’s case, Tumerin had no place in mathematics, he thought. Still, he understood that scientific (and magical) research was fundamental in improving society, regardless of its ups and downs. As such, many of the Kingdom of Dawn’s developments were kept secret to prying eyes.

  “So where is this place, Chaunce?” Phoenix wondered as they traversed the castle’s halls. “I think my father brought Aurora and I to it once, but I can't quite remember.”

  “That was the fake facility, Your Majesty,” Butler Chauncey stated, opening a plain wooden door. “He wouldn’t have brought you two to the real one, in fear of your safety. Plus, young kids can’t exactly keep a secret.”

  “Oh,” Phoenix’s eyebrows raised.

  “After you,” Chancey waved him into the dark space, then closed the door behind them.

  “It’s dark.”

  “Yes. You can still see though, right?”

  “Dim. Not in color.”

  FWOOM. A tiny blue flame appeared atop Chauncey’s pointer finger as he looked above them for something.

  “Ah! Here it is,” he pulled down on the thin metal chain hanging from the ceiling.

  Click.

  Bam. Color. The room lit up, exposing its cleaning supplies and its identity as a janitor’s closet.

  “This is just a janitor’s closet,” Phoenix said.

  “It may seem that way, My King, but lookie here.” Chauncey removed the soggy mop from the yellow janitor’s cart in the corner, gave the floor a little cleaning, then returned it, silently flapping in place with a confident expression.

  “Was that supposed to do something?”

  “Just wait, Your Majesty, just wait.”

  “Okay,” he shrugged.

  About seven seconds went by… and nothing happened. Phoenix stared at the demon quizzically.

  “I don’t think anything is going to happe—”

  “Yeah, we’re in the wrong place,” he agreed, defeated, then peered out the door. “Oh, there it is,” he pointed across the hall to the door labelled: ‘SECRET LAB’ in all caps, with multiple gigantic red MagiTube algorithm-stimulating arrows pointing to it. The hum of the lights paused and resumed as they flicked on and off.

  Phoenix squinted, “Okay, I’m just going to say it: I don’t think labeling a door ‘Secret Lab’ is such a great idea.”

  “No-no, it’s a fantastic idea, Your Majesty,” Chauncey disagreed as they approached it. “Have you ever heard of ‘hiding in plain sight?’ Any foreign spy would surely think this is the entrance to the fake lab, and not bother to check!”

  “I’m not too sure about that. They would check regardless.”

  “Agree to disagree.”

  Inside, Phoenix watched Chauncey pull down on another chain for some light—only to find a sticky note appearing right in their faces, hanging off of the storage shelf in front of them. It read: ‘To do: Mop the floor →’ The arrow pointed to yet another janitor’s cart. Once again, Chauncey removed the mop and wiped the floor, and not a moment later the shelf lowered into the ground, exposing an air vent whose grate promptly flipped open in a beckoning fashion.

  “Is that it? Is that the entrance?” Phoenix wondered out loud.

  “That’s it,” Chauncey answered. “Just stick your head inside, Your Majesty.”

  “You first.”

  “As you wish,” the butler bowed mid-air, then flew over to the vent, inserting his labradoric head.

  FWHUMP! His body quickly disappeared, and then… silence.

  “Chaunce?” Phoenix called for him. “Hello?”

  Nothing.

  “Ugh,” he grabbed his head, “I can’t believe I’m about to stick my face inside an air vent.” He made one quick look behind him, hoping that nobody was recording him with a MagiPhone, then slotted his head inside. “Hello?” His voice echoed. And just when he was about to quit peering into the darkness, a strong suction began pulling on his face, then the rest of his body, ultimately kidnapping him.

  FWHUMP!

  “WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” Phoenix yelled as the vent grate swung shut behind him. He felt the reverberating darkness pass by his shoulders, but with the speed of suck, the metal walls quickly merged into a glass tube. He shut his trap and observed his surroundings.

  Miles upon miles of sterile hallways were constructed into a confusing labyrinth. Phoenix could see them all, as if he was no-clipping out of bounds in a video game. Lab coats of many shapes and sizes walked through them. Some chill, some chatting, some in a rush, some with heavy duty hazmat gear holding scientific instruments, others in heavy duty armor brandishing magitech weapons. He even passed by a cafeteria decorated with MagiTVs, ping-pong tables, and for some reason, a Prance Prance Precession mat. A hazmat dude was in no small terms, break it down on top of it, surrounded by rhythmically clapping onlookers. And from what Phoenix could gather, the food the employees were stuffing into their faces looked pretty decent; sold at a low price too.

  After a few loops and a parabolic turn, bringing him feet first, Phoenix got pooped out onto some sort of magitech gravity rune device. Its field slowed his descent to a safe speed, and his feet touched the ground with barely any strain on his legs.

  WHIRRRRrrr. The device powered off, leaving him in a plain looking room. Other than the exit tube on his left, there was only one way to go: through the archway in front of him. He proceeded, meeting with Chauncey on the other side.

  “Okay,” the demon waved his simple arms, “This is it, Your Majesty: the STD!”

  The Science & Tech Department’s foyer was cylindrical. Glancing behind them, three more archways were cut into the walls, separated evenly with their own set of entrance and exit tubes; they probably went to different areas within the city limits, or perhaps, the Kingdom itself. A couple employees popped in, one after another, others popped out, and some even noticed their presence and bowed in respect, before continuing with their duties. In front of them was a fountain shaped like a chemistry flask. It spewed hyper-filtered water into two aqueducts on its left and right, across the floor, and into their respective streams that ran alongside the off-white walls with flowers and trees. Behind the fountain was a marble reception desk, circular in nature. Two elven women were manning it. Past them, a row of glass doors awaited use, cut off by the two curved marble stairwells at their ends, leading to more glass tubes along a semi-circular row.

  Phoenix followed Chauncey over to the front desk. The elves here were holding their hands up to their Magiputer orb displays, concentrating on the files on top of files that they were flipping through, scanning their contents and organizing them into folders. He wasn’t sure that they even noticed their presence.

  Ding, ding! Chauncey hit the desk bell, and one of the two elves; the one facing them, took her hand off of the orb and looked in their direction with a few quick blinks.

  “Hello—Oh! Your Majesty!” She stood from her seat and bowed. “Welcome to the Science & Tech Department! My name is Zinnia! How may I help you today?”

  Zinnia had very light pink hair, almost white like the sterile environment around them, which flowed into a deep red at their ends; styled in a shag. Her irises matched the former, and she wore a fitted white suit. ‘Professional’ was the style here, but her body language screamed ‘presentable?’ Was she worthy of Her Majesty’s presence? Was she all put together? Did a stray hair or two pop while she was concentrating on her orb?

  “His Majesty wishes to meet with Mr. Gargler,” Chauncey said. “Could you notify him of our arrival?”

  “Certainly!” She positioned her hand in front of the orb display again, then navigated through the file explorer to the STD Meeting application. There was no cursor to speak of, the windows just opened and closed based on her mental commands. Eventually a user by the name of ‘Xx_WolfGargler_xX’ appeared on screen, and she called him.

  RING… RING… RING…

  “‘Sup,” Snash appeared on screen, the edges of his image stretched around the orb’s surface.

  “Department Head Gargler, the King is here to see you,” Zinnia replied.

  “He is?” Snash’s window revolved to the other side of the orb, facing Phoenix and Chauncey. “Oh, he is! Greetings, Your Majesty!”

  “Uh… Hello?” He awkwardly raised his hand.

  “Zinnia,” Gnash’s video spun back to the elf, “Bring His Majesty and the Administrative Advisor over to the Special Projects Division. I’ll meet them there in, sayyyy—ten minutes. I’m finishing something up.”

  “Yes, Mr. Gargler,” she nodded.

  “Great,” he nodded back, then ended the call.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Okay then, Your Majesty,” Zinnia shut her Magiputer off and collected a nearby folder, “Allow me to show you the way.” She walked over to her companion and put her hand on her shoulder, startling her for a brief second. “Nizzia, His Majesty and the Administrative Advisor are here.”

  “Really?” She looked behind her and quickly bowed at their presence. This Nizzia looked to be the exact opposite in appearance of Zinnia. Her deep red hair flowed into the lightest pink, her eyes matching the former. She wore the same suit, however.

  “Yes, I am to bring them to the Special Projects Division. Could you take over the Welcome Desk in my absence?”

  “Certainly, Dear Sister,” she replied, then transferred to Zinnia’s seat, watching her exit through the desk gate and lead the VIPs into the facility.

  “Have you been here before, Your Majesty?” Zinnia asked Phoenix, opening the nearest glass door for him and Chauncey.

  “No,” he replied.

  “I see. Many people find that at first glance this place is very complicated to navigate.”

  “From what I’ve seen on the tube over, it seems so, yes.”

  “And you would be correct.”

  “Oh, you see that Chaunce?” Phoenix turned to him. “I’m correct.”

  “Congratulations, Your Majesty,” he replied, neutrally.

  “So,” Phoenix looked at Zinnia, “is it complicated to throw off potential spies?”

  “Correct again,” she nodded. “In fact, the layout is modular and changes every day in collaboration with the Magic Department. So any spies among us will find it pretty hard to draft an accurate map. And any attack made the same day will have trouble organizing.”

  “I see. So how do you get around, then?”

  “Navigation is quite simple, actually. Look at the Navboard in front of you.”

  “This thing?” Phoenix pointed to the flat rectangle. An obelisk looking thing at the center of the first intersection.

  “Yes,” she answered, waving her hand in front of it. Her orange wristband glowed, waking it up. “Each division and sub-division is listed here with a matching color, only accessible if you are an employee with a Level 1 Navband, at minimum; more become available the higher the clearance. The colors change each day too, making it a requirement to check this screen at the start of the work day. Now, look at the floor,” she pointed. “See the lines?”

  An amalgamation of colored lines were sourced from the screen’s base and extended further into the facility, overlapping like a rainbow, making it almost impossible to focus on just one. It was a headache-inducing blur, something Phoenix darted his head away from.

  “Yes, I see them,” he answered with a hint of strain.

  “Simply just hold your hand towards the screen and think or say which place you’d like to go. The wristband will isolate it for you. I don’t have one to give you at the moment, but you can watch me demonstrate instead.” She stretched her hand at the screen and said, “Special Projects Division.” Suddenly a mustard colored magic orb exited from it and absorbed into her wristband. Now that it was active, she checked it like a wristwatch and a beam of light spread out from the tiny circular lens embedded on its surface, highlighting the mustard colored line they had to follow.

  “Interesting,” Phoenix held his chin.

  On their way to their destination the group passed by a multitude of divisions, wings, and rooms: Chemistry, Physics, the Break Room (where they had a quick cup of joe), Testing, Anomalous Materials, Energy Production, Philosophy (a wing with no rooms), Mathematics, Information Science, Sfo Science (Earth Science, but for here, stupid), Astronomy, and Zoology, to name a few. Finally, they arrived at the Special Projects Division, which laid behind a security checkpoint. Zinnia waved at the gate guard through the thick glass then pointed at Phoenix. The guard’s eyes went wide for a moment and then he hastily threw the lever on his control board, causing the heavy, reinforced, gravity-locking doors to rise, letting them through with the BEEP of an alarm.

  “Thanks, Scott!” She yelled at him.

  “No problem!” He shouted back with a thumbs up, his words incredibly muffled.

  “So, was that your sister at the front desk, Zinnia?” Phoenix asked as they walked through the doors.

  “Yes, Your Majesty. That’s Nizzia. We’re twins. She’s my assistant on file, though we practically do the same amount of work.”

  “Do you get paid the same amount?”

  “Yes,” she nodded.

  “Good. Why was she given a separate title, then?”

  “A diverse selection of jobs, it looks better on paper,” Chauncey answered.

  “Mr. Gargler also said that having more than one receptionist seemed idiotic,” Zinnia added.

  “Why? Other businesses have multiple receptionists,” Phoenix retorted.

  “That’s what I said. He’s just weird. A chronically net-surfing moron when he’s not at work.”

  “Then, you don’t think those 'ten minutes'—”

  “Yes.”’

  “Gross.”

  “He’s the Head, and excuse my language, but he’s damn good at his job. Most of us don’t care. At least he doesn’t bother anyone. And he’s too smart to leave any kind of evidence.”

  “So it’s not worth the hassle to check, is what you’re saying.”

  “Nope. And I know him. He wouldn’t be looking at anything illegal, so why should we check?”

  “Because you don’t do that in a workplace?” Phoenix thought.

  “You know him?” Chauncey asked Zinnia.

  “My sister and I went to school with him. He may be weird, but he isn’t a degenerate.”

  “What’s this about degeneracy?” Snash poked his head around the corner.

  “We were talking about your interests, Department Head.”

  “Oh well, I am quite the gamer,” he rested his hand on his chest and snickered.

  Zinnia let out a groan. Condensed Essence of Cringe.

  “Sorry Zinnia. Don’t let my gamermaxxing tendencies cringemog you into raising your cortisol levels.”

  Phoenix felt like he had a stroke. What the hell was this guy saying? Ground control to Major NEET.

  “Oh my god, I’m out of here,” Zinnia reacted, embarrassed, then quickly bowed to Phoenix and Chauncey, “Have a nice day, Your Majesty, Administrative Head,” and flipped the bird at Snash as she walked away.

  “You aren’t going to fire her for that, Snash?” Chauncey wondered.

  “Nah, we push each other’s buttons all of the time,” he answered. “Please, if you ever catch me saying a similar string of words unironically, please hit me over the head with the nearest war hammer, shoot me with a magitech rifle, and/or decapitate me with an air cutter spell.”

  “I’ll remember that,” Phoenix crossed his arms.

  “Thank you. And now I should welcome you to the Special Projects Division, Your Majesty: Welcome to the Special Projects Division, Your Majesty.”

  Phoenix rapidly shook his head like he had just experienced a brain fart, or as his father liked to call it, déjà vu.

  “Per the name,” Snash continued, “this is where all of our special projects are done. And by ‘special projects’ I mean anything requiring a higher clearance level. At minimum you need a Level 3 Navband to even get this listed at the Navboard out front.”

  “So no actual projects?” Phoenix asked.

  “There are projects being done here, but there’s also other stuff, too. Follow me, please,” he beckoned.

  Chauncey shrugged at Phoenix, and the three of them proceeded down the hall.

  “Oh, and before I forget,” Snash stopped, producing two Navbands, “here you are: a Level 5 Navband for His Majesty, and a Level 4 Navband for the Administrative Head.”

  The Level 5 band was black, and the Level 4 band green.

  “Hey, why do I get the 4?” Chauncey wondered.

  “Because you aren’t the King or the Head of this department,” Snash answered.

  “Oh.”

  “Don’t worry, you can still enter Clearance 5 areas if His Majesty or I allow you there, but it’s temporary.”

  “How would I give him permission?” Phoenix asked.

  “Just tap your bands together and think about where you’d like him to go. For instance, we are about to be entering Project I. So think: ‘Project I.’”

  They did so, and Chauncey’s Level 4 Navband took on a darker tone, but was not a complete black like Phoenix’s. ‘Level 4+’ was what it said now.

  “So we’re headed to Project I, then? What’s that about?” Phoenix asked.

  “We can’t discuss it out here, Your Majesty. But I can talk about other things on the way, if you’d like.”

  “Sure,” he replied, and they continued walking.

  “The reason why the Special Projects Division is restricted is because of the danger level. In collaboration with the Magic Department we engage in the scientific side of research on the magical artifacts that the Kingdom collects, which sometimes have disastrous effects. If you need an example, one of the artifacts, ART-8153, spawned a localized gravitational anomaly which instantly spaghettified humanoids, and only humanoids, within a three meter radius, lasting about two seconds before it dissipated. This was because we shot it with a magitech rifle.”

  “Why would you shoot it with a rifle?” Chauncey asked.

  “Because it looks like an ordinary rifle range target.”

  “Huh?”

  “These artifacts can be anything, which is partially why this facility is so big. We need a place to house them all, safely, away from the rest of society.”

  “I’m surprised my father never told me this,” Phoenix said. “How come all of you people get to know about it, and not me? Does Aurora know? Does my mother know?”

  “Your sister? No. But Demon King Veris does know, yes. Although, neither her or your father speak of this place in public. This facility was started during their initial search for that back fixer-upper or whatever. But unfortunately, this part of the Science Department grew too quickly to make diverting resources for that a priority. Once you open the can of worms that is artifact hunting, there’s no going back. You become a target for other nations, and there’s so much other stuff we have to worry about now! They probably didn’t want anybody else in the royal family to know for their safety. And you, Phoenix, you were kept in the dark because you were the young Commander of the Military at that time.”

  “I was a bit of a hot-head when I was younger, wasn’t I? I probably would’ve tried to use these things as a weapon.”

  “That’s precisely the reason Hero-King Solaris gave.”

  “But hang on, how did you know of this place, Chauncey?”

  “Hm? Oh, your father brought me here a couple of times,” he answered. “But never this far in.”

  “I see.”

  “Anyway,” Snash continued, “doing research on artifacts isn’t all we do. We also work on complex projects that could impact society. For instance, you do know about MagiNet, yes?”

  “You did that?”

  “Yup. We controlled its deployment so people wouldn’t get too confused on how it worked. And once the populace was ready, we unleashed it.”

  “So you’re like the hidden hand that controls all of our society.”

  “No, we aren’t,” he pointed at Phoenix’s chest, “you are.”

  “I am?”

  “Yes. Hero-King Solaris was once in this position, and now you are too.”

  “This doesn’t make any sense. My father did nothing after his back problem arose.”

  “And that’s why I requested your presence. All we’ve done for the last twenty some-odd years is artifact bullshit, excuse my language, but now we can finally move onto the next step.” Snash brought them into a room without a label. “Behold: Project I!”

  There were a bunch of people in here, each sitting at a Magiputer while lines of code flew by on their orb displays (an executable Snash created so that it would fit the vibe; it’s actually nonsense if you took the time to read it). A humongous array of orbs were sticking out of the back wall with the words, ‘Awaiting signal’ on their surfaces. Everybody shifted in their seats in Phoenix’s direction, eagerly waiting.

  “What’s with the abundance of orb displays?” He asked.

  “Each one of those are connected to cameras hidden all over the Kingdom, Your Majesty,” Snash answered.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Intersections, stadiums, markets, train stations, front doors, living rooms, bedrooms, Magiputer Netcams, Magiphone Magicams, heck—even wheelchairs and strollers. Simply put, it’s a mass-surveillance system, My King, to improve the Guard’s response time; for your citizens’ safety.”

  “Woah,” Phoenix and Chauncey said, simultaneously.

  “All we need is your go-ahead. The big red button right on the control panel over there.”

  “This one?” Phoenix walked up to it.

  “Oh sorry, not that one,” Snash whipped his arm and pointed, “That one!”

  Big red button? More like: humongous crimson actuator.

  Phoenix approached it. It was nearly three times his size. Who needed a button this big? Snash did. It helps maintain the atmosphere; the importance of this decision. A button fit for kings, and Phoenix was a King, an interim king yes, but still a king. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He readied his finger, but turned around to gauge the thoughts of the people in the room. The scientists stared right at him with emotionless faces. Dead. Expecting. Each one had a pair of glasses that glinted in the light. They emanated a pressure. Nerd pressure. ‘Press the button! Press the button!’ They chanted in their heads. Snash, on the other hand, gazed at him with a smirk. He knew what kind of change this would have on society. The ripples it would have on far away lands. Their hasty alterations on their domestic policies. He seemed excited at the prospect. Finally, after twenty years we can get this baby started. As for Chauncey; Jester Chauncey, his jaw hit the floor, his tongue rolled out, and his eyes transformed into two big red buttons themselves. Phoenix could feel his compulsion; the pull of the jester’s ego. C’mon. Press it. Every person had a jester inside of them, one only needed to let it out. And he heard it; his own chaotic conscience: Wouldn’t it be funny to press the button, to hear its ‘click?’ Wouldn’t it be hilarious to record each of your citizens’ failures and replay them with a bucket of popcorn between your knees? Wouldn’t it be hysterical to steal all of their info, leak it, then watch the masses hyperventilate in their anxiety and shame? But you know what would be really funny, Phoenix? Absolutely diabolical? Absurdly jocular? Quintessentially kooky? A jestermaxxing extravaganza? (Cut that last one. Must be Snash's influence.)

  Phoenix put down his shaky, sweaty hand, and walked away.

  “What?” Snash’s face shrunk. “Wait, Your Majesty, why aren’t you pressing the button?” He stammered. “You forgot to press the button!”

  “I didn’t forget, Snash,” Phoenix peered over his shoulder, “I decided not to.”

  “M-m-may I ask why?”

  “It would be an immense invasion of privacy! I may have been a military commander, but that doesn’t mean I’m an idiot with no morals. What kind of government would do that to their own citizens?”

  Weirdly enough, everything in the room abruptly fell silent. The people, the creaky chairs, the electronic hums. Everybody felt the need to look in a single direction, despite there being no reason to do so. Nobody was vying for their attention. Nobody had a Magicam pointed at their face (ironically). They just had to. “It must be the work of an artifact,” some thought. But then, just as fast as it came, the moment disappeared.

  “But it’s for the citizens’ safety!” Shash continued, wiggling his hands in the air.

  “‘For the citizens’ safety,’” Phoenix repeated. “Yeah, right. More like for their exploitation. I thought about the ramifications over a period of about forty-five seconds, Snash. Forty-five seconds was enough to decide it was a bad idea. Forty-five fucking seconds. You had to have known.”

  “Well, I would be lying if I said, ‘no.’”

  “I appreciate your honesty, but disapprove of this project’s creation. How much money did you spend on this exactly?”

  “Well uh, not too much—”

  “10,234,456,852 gold, 6 silver, and 1 copper piece, Your Majesty,” Business Chauncey stated, squinting at a piece of paper while adjusting his glasses.

  “T-t-t-ten billion!?” Phoenix coughed. “Geneesus man!”

  “Where did you get that paper?” Snash snatched it from Chauncey.

  “It was just resting near the coffee machine over there, right on the counter. ‘Total Expenditures on Project I’ it was labelled.”

  “Oh my…” Snash pulled down on his face.

  “Is that accurate?” Phoenix asked.

  “Unfortunately, yes, it’s accurate,” he said, looking down at the floor.

  “Oh fuck. Shit. Okay,” Phoenix tapped his foot in worried thought.

  “Don’t worry, Your Majesty, that’s hardly a dent in our treasury!” Chauncey gave a thumbs up.

  “Yes, I know, but still—Is there any way you can sell everything for scrap or repurpose it, Snash?”

  “You’re not… mad at me?” He looked up.

  “What? Of course I’m mad at you!”

  “Oh,” he looked down.

  “But this wouldn’t have happened if my father sucked up the pain for five seconds and came to visit you. He owns a wheelchair, and plenty of helpers! Just swear them to secrecy and be done with it!” Phoenix sighed. “Look, I’m not going to penalize you, you guys were working on the artifact stuff in the meantime, right? That exorbitant figure is just the maintenance cost?”

  “Yes, the majority of it is,” he nodded.

  “Okay, so, like I said, if you can figure out another way to use this… crime against privacy, or its parts, we have no problem here.”

  Snash bowed, “Thank you for your benevolence, Your Majesty. I—no, we of the Science & Tech Department will think of a way to recoup the cost.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty!” The scientists in the room all bowed.

  “Great,” Phoenix replied. “Now,” he looked into the maze of hallways, “how the hell do I get out of here?”

  Snash looked up and pointed, “Oh, uh, do you see that small blue button on your wristband?”

  “This one?” Phoenix gestured to it.

  “No, the other one.”

  “Other one?” Phoenix rotated his wrist. “What other one?”

  “Oh, I found it, Your Majesty,” Butler Chauncey said, mustard colored line appearing on the floor under him.

  Phoenix squinted at the dog-demon’s wrist, then back at his own, “Yeah, I don’t… I don’t see it.”

  “Here let me help you,” Snash scrambled up to him and took hold of his wrist, inspecting it. “That’s weird, I don’t see it either.”

  “See? I’m not crazy!”

  “Wait a minute. Yeah. Yeah, I see it. You have the Navband flipped over.”

  “Oh,” Phoenix quickly removed it from his wrist, then put it on the other way. The correct button was now in sight. It was even smaller than the last, and baby blue. He pressed it, and the line appeared at his feet. “There we go.”

  “Glad you got it working.”

  “Yeah. Hey, what’s that other button for then?”

  “Oh, it’s nothing, just think of it like a thought microphone. When you think, you make these teensy tiny vibrations in your vocal chords which reverberate throughout your body. It” —Phoenix and Chauncey were staring at him blankly—“It’s not important. Have a nice day, Your Majesty.”

  Phoenix nodded, and left with his butler in tow, following the mustard brick road.