“Mr. Fulgen, how do you approach receiving constructive criticism?”

  “Do I care about the person’s opinion in this scenario?”

  “Um… yes?”

  “Ok. Well. First, I take it too personally. I either snap back at that person or go stony-faced and moody. Later that evening I come unravelled and drink, binge watch shows, play video games, or something else along those lines. About a week passes. In the end I do what they suggested anyway, once it’s been long enough that it feels like I’m not just doing it because they told me to.”

  “Uh…”

  “Evening boss,” I said as I stepped into Marin’s.

  “Good evening, Mr. Fulgen,” she said, rubbing her temple. “Have a seat.”

  “So, what’s this about? The video?”

  “Not in any direct way. It actually concerns your pardon. A detail of it, anyway. No cause for alarm, just something I want you to be aware of.”

  “Okay,” I said carefully.

  She ran a hand through her silver hair. “I’m exhausted,” she said. “Are you exhausted? You must be. You may relax the rest of the day once we’re done here. Tomorrow too, if needed. I’m going to have Team Dominion supplement our building security, especially around the barracks, while we sort this mystery video out.”

  “I am pretty damn tired,” I admitted with a nod. The drain from the Life Support skill had increased throughout the day. It had actually leveled a couple of times, but it was still getting hard and hard to maintain. Habby was having to dial it back so my aethervoir didn’t zero out. I was feeling it. In fact, at this point I was too tired to even comment on Marin’s obvious stalling. I just waited for her to get around to it.

  One of the things I often forget is that sometimes silence works. “I’m glad they didn’t change any of the terms of the pardon at the last minute,” she said. “That Faxton, she’s a smart one. Having her family’s attorneys on retainer probably doesn’t hurt either.”

  I nodded slightly, but I kept my mouth shut.

  “Look, Mr. Fulgen. As you can see—as I’ve been trying to hint at throughout the day—this job is a big ask. An extremely big one.”

  “I get it,” I said. “It’s hard. It’s not just punching bad guys.”

  “Right. So, that is why Miss Faxton gave you an out. If you decide, either now or later, that being part of the Licensed Vigilante Sorcerer program is not for you, you’re allowed to step back.”

  I frowned. “But… my pardon. It said I have to work here for six months.”

  “Doing what?”

  I opened my mouth to state the obvious, but then realization struck. The terms of my pardon didn’t say I had to be a sorcerer. There was nothing about punching bad guys in there at all. They only said I had to be employed by G-Tech.

  Marin smiled. “If it gets to be too much, Mr. Fulgen, just say the word. You can do custodial work, work in the cafeteria, do data entry and filing if you decide those are more your speed. Perhaps even pose for marketing photos from time to time. It wouldn’t be glamorous or exciting work, but it would be safe, and it would fulfill the conditions of your pardon.”

  I had a mental picture of myself pushing a bathroom cleaning cart past, say, Dante. Not overly pleasant.

  “It still seems like a loophole though,” I said. “Like, it doesn’t seem to be in the spirit of the pardon. What happens to Jessie if I spend half a year scrubbing toilets?”

  “Absolutely nothing. All she did was set the terms. Others approved it. The important thing would be you staying out of legal trouble. But she’ll have used her pardon to protect and reform you. She seems like the type who’d be satisfied with that.”

  Well, it was certainly boring enough to satisfy her.

  “You really want me to do that?”

  “I’m not trying to influence you either way. But I do want you to consider carefully. I know you’ve had a troubled past. This position, with all of its stresses and losses and additional traumas. Well, it’s difficult enough even for, say, a regular cop who spends most of his career writing speeding tickets. Or a firefighter, doctor, soldier. Work like this, Mr. Fulgen. It’s been known to break people who didn’t even have any cracks starting out, if you catch my meaning.”

  I nodded, feeling strangely satisfied. Bolstered, even. Finally, a disclaimer up front. Truth in advertising. “This will crush your spirit. You will burn out.” They don’t tell you that when you sign up to flip burgers or run a cash registers. But at least this time, before I burned out, maybe—just maybe—I’d burn bright for a little while.

  And I needed that chance. I desperately needed it. When you’re drowning, are you really going to turn down a lifeboat just because it has a leak in it?

  “But I’ll still get to punch bad guys some of the time, right?” I asked.

  Marin gave me an unreadable look. “Yes, Mr. Fulgen. I’m sure you will. Do you have any other questions for me before we adjourn?”

  There was something else, wasn’t there? Oh, right! Damned old memory! “There was one more thing. This might be more of a question for the GPD, but maybe you know who to ask. Can I talk to Squid?”

  “Yes!” Fu grandly opened the door to her apartment. She grabbed one of Jessie’s suitcases and swung it almost recklessly as she entered. “Casa del Fu, Bee-Ho! Bee-Ho’s in the boudoir! Or should I say, the Fu-doir?”

  “It’s… actually very nice, Fu,” said Jessie, looking around. The apartment was spacious, well-furnished, and had a loft. Also, unlike Fu’s usual status quo… “It’s really clean.”

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

  “I know, right? I hired a service! Three times a week!”

  “G-Tech treats you well, huh?”

  “You know it!”

  “Well, thanks for putting me up, Fu.”

  “Hey, thanks for putting up with me, Bee-Ho!” She smirked. “And… you know, sorry I’ve been a little out of touch since I got up here. Busy as hell, ya feel me? But now you’re here, it’s gonna be girl’s night every night! Ok, so, bars. There’s a—”

  “Fu, slow down. I am looking forward to hanging out with you again, and you’re always a ray of sunshine. But right now, I just really, really need some rest.”

  “Yeah.” Fu really studied Jessie for the first time, and her face creased. “S-sure. Um, there’s a pullout, there’s a daybed upstairs. Hell, you can have my bed if you need it. Why you so tired, girl? Besides not getting any sleep, I mean.”

  “Ugh.” Jessie sank into a couch, and Fu plopped down opposite her. “It felt like my whole career was falling apart today. A lot of cops hate that I pardoned Jett, even among the Elites. They took away my trainees, And Evan… damn, Evan.”

  Fu raised an eyebrow. “Milquetoast-ass Evan? What’d he do?”

  Then, after Jessie recounted their conversation: “Bitch!”

  “Do you think I was too hard on him?” Jessie asked.

  “Did he walk away under his own power?” Fu demanded.

  “Well, yes.”

  “Then you were too soft on him. Damn! Mofo like that oughta be gimping away on his one remaining arm and begging for mercy! If I ever see him again—”

  “Please, Fu.”

  “That’s what he’ll be sayin’! He’s gonna get the kung Fu—The big Fu you!”

  Jessie sighed and moved on. “So, when Chris came along with the liaison offer, it was great, but it also felt like my only choice, you know?”

  “I can see that. You got the last piece of cake, and it was a corner piece, but maybe you wanted a different corner.”

  “I don’t know if that’s exactly right.”

  “Ok ok, but working with me again is a plus, right?”

  Jessie smiled. “It is.”

  Fu took on a devilish grin. “But how do you feel about possibly working next to Fireman?”

  Jessie regarded her friend flatly. “Really? That’s what you’re calling Jett? What did you call—”

  “Sabaton.” Fu held her foot up. “Good strong masculine name. It’ll put hair on his chest.”

  “Right.”

  “Hmm? Hmm? I asked you a question, Jess.”

  “It would be weirdly appropriate, I guess. We actually get along okay when we’ve got a common goal.”

  “You sure it won’t inflame any suppressed passions you lacked the means to express when you were preteens?”

  “What? Shones no, Fu! Where would you even get—” Jessie looked sharply at Fu. “Wait. Why are you asking? No. No, don’t even tell me you’re considering it!”

  “Jess, he’s adorable!”

  “I don’t know if I could look at you the same way again.”

  “I can’t help it Jess, you know I likes the bad boys! Fu do what Fu do, ‘cause she got the Fu voodoo.”

  “Ugh, I just don’t know which of you I feel sorrier for. Ok Fu, I’ve got one for you. How do you feel about possibly working with your mother again?”

  “Gah, what?” Fu made a show of gagging. “No, tell me you didn’t!”

  “No, I didn’t. But she did. She put in a transfer to Topside specifically so she can be one of the first responders if G-Tech calls for Elite backup.” Jessie clasped her hands sweetly. “Also she wants to reconnect with you. Mother and daughter reunited at long last.”

  Fu groaned.

  “Hey, you brought this on yourself. It hurts her, Fu. Not that you’re not a cop anymore; she’s proud as hell of what you’re doing now. Just that you don’t talk to her.”

  “All I ever hear about is how worried she is.”

  “That’s how mothers are supposed to feel, Fu! When their daughters run giant robosuits into the ground, then climb out and keep fighting! She’s not guilting you, she’s being honest. But she’s never held you back. If she were overprotective you never would have joined the academy in the first place.”

  Fu grunted.

  “Also, you know how I feel about spending time with your parents while you can.”

  Fu clicked her tongue. “Damn it. Always gotta play that one. You such a ho.”

  Jessie smirked. “That’s why I’m your Bee-Ho, Fu. And that’s why you love me.”

  Squid laughed. He laughed and laughed, and then he laughed at the bewildered expression on Jett Fulgen’s face as he tried to hold the handset up.

  “Squid?” Jett asked. “You okay?”

  “Ho boy, look how far I’ve come! One of the boys I helped just shook hands with the Shones damned mayor!” He laughed again, pounding his fist on the table. “Oh, that warms my heart.”

  “Squid? If you wanted to make me feel better this isn’t helping, okay? Like, I’m glad you’re not yelling at me, but you’re kind of freaking me out instead.”

  “Hol’ up. Is that Lina? Hey! Lina Feng!”

  Squid waved at the slim woman in the sleek G-Tech uniform standing a few feet behind Jett. She probably couldn’t hear him well through the glass, but she did notice his movements. Her eyes widened in recognition, and she raised a shy hand in greeting.

  Jett glanced over his shoulder. “You know her?”

  “Yeah, good to see ya! Sure as hell, I know her! She’s a podder. Approached me about a year before I spotted you. I was full up at the time, so I referred her to a friend. She’s with G-Tech now? You tell her I’m proud of her too!”

  “Yeah, she’s on Team Cyclone.” Jett looked embarrassed. “A couple of them are acting as bodyguards for this little outing. I think that’s gonna be the norm until they catch those crazies from the other night or I get strong enough to join a team.”

  “Well, then.” Squid adopted his serious face. “We do still have some unfinished business. Remember the terms of our agreement?”

  “What? Ugh…” Jett creased his brow in thought. He was a smart one. He knew that business was business when it came to ol’ Squid.

  “I didn’t come in third place or better, so I don’t have to buy that whiskey. You also said… ah geez. Really?”

  “Come on, boy.”

  Jett flopped forward, thumping his forehead on the counter on the opposite side of the glass. “Squid? It’s more than forty-eight hours out. This is my notice that I’m withdrawing from the next race. Also, please don’t automatically schedule me again.”

  “Being responsible feels good, don’t it?”

  “Spectacular. Now can we—and I know this sounds weird coming from me—be serious for a second? What’s going on with you? Are you screwed? Are you broke? How bad did I ruin your life the other night?”

  “Bah.” Squid waved a hand dismissively. “I got connections, you know it. I’ll plead down, get a slap on the wrist, keep the club. GPD’ll be breathing down my neck for a while so my ah, hobbies may have to slow down for a while. I’ll lose some of my VIPs, but I’ll be fine. Seems the only fella who discharged a weapon during that ordeal got mysteriously pardoned, so there ain’t much to pin on the rest of us. All the racers went free, is what’s important. But what about you, boy? How are you doing?”

  “What? Even now you’re asking–...” Jett glanced back, then quieted his voice. “Not so good, Squid. I mean some of this is exciting, but I feel like I’m drowning, you know?”

  Squid nodded gravely. “You’re in a shark tank, no doubt about it. Even if they mean you well, they still got teeth. Plus they gotta feed the other sharks at City Hall and Shones know where else. But even sharks—” Squid slapped himself in the chest “—fear the giant Squid. Relationships, boy. All about relationships. And you have come to the right place for that.”

  “Shones, Squid.” Jett swallowed. “After all that, you still want to help me?”

  Squid leaned in. “What kind of asshole would I be if I stopped helping you when you needed it most? Now listen closely. I know they record this shit in this place, so I gotta keep it basic. First off, put some stock in that Catalina Castillo. I’ve heard of her. Used to be an activist. Straight shooter. Don’t let her job title fool ya. Next…”

  Novicius in Arte Medica A Novice in the Art of MedicineMedical School is a Warzone. Ashrahan was failing. Then, the System woke up.

  

Quote: Synopsis: Sleepless nights, borrowed notes, and caffeine. When exhaustion drags Ashrahan to the edge, a silent system awakens, transforming patients into interactive lessons and textbooks into living networks of surgical precision.