The Unskillful Thaumaturge

IV

"Yes?" Diane asked into the phone.

A woman's voice came through. "Hello, this is Ashley Carroll. I'd like to talk to my daughter. She was hired this morning."

"We don't have anyone here named Carroll," Diane answered. "Thanks, but I think you have the wrong number."

"I didn't take my husband's name!" the woman shouted. There was a brief pause on the other line, then she continued. "My daughter's name is Galena Tarmont."

"Yes, Galena began working here earlier today. She's a bit busy right now, but I'll let her know you called."

"Fine," Ashley snapped. "She had better call me back, though, I'm not going to wait all day."

"I'll let her know," Diane repeated, and slammed down the phone. She stood up and walked over to the door of her office, heels clicking. Opening the door, she clinked down the hall and into the Director's office, where Galena and Rolf were bent over a file folder.

"Your mother called," Diane remarked, looking at Galena. The Assistant Director looked up, annoyed. "I'm at work. She can't call me while I'm at work. Please block her number."

"Will do," Diane gratefully replied, clicking out of the room. Galena returned to the file.

"So what information is in here? Obviously, the footage, some pictures, and test results on the baby and the obelisk, and failed efforts to break the code on the obelisk, but anything else?"

The file specialist, sitting in the corner of the room, rolled his chair up to the table. "That's pretty much it. I mean, a bit of extraneous information, tracking, no more tests, we weren't able to identify anything else. We weren't able to trace the gamma ray burst or do any of that. Sorry."

A spark came into Galena's eyes. "Can you leave us alone for a minute, please?"

The file specialist fidgeted uncomfortably. "My name? That would be Derek, why?"

"No, I asked if you could leave us alone for a minute."

"Sorry, I misheard- um, sure." Derek got up and left the room. Galena turned towards Rolf.

"What do they think they're doing?" she asked him.

"What do you mean?" came the confused reply.

"If this agency is supposed to be investigating the Thaumatogenesis, they should be following up on leads. Looking at this-" she indicated the file folder- "there is one lead that we could be following up on, and all they've been doing is waiting for people to crack codes! What do they think they're doing?"

"One lead?" Rolf repeated, confused.

"One lead. If there are any lingering effects or anything like that, where would they be concentrated?"

"Um... I don't know."

Galena started to roll her eyes but stopped herself. She looked around the room, nervous, then leaned forward and whispered in his ear for a moment.

"Yeah," Rolf muttered. "Yeah, that's a good idea. Who's going to do that, though?"

Galena looked up from the file again. "You."

☙❧

Rolf grumbled, looking down at the address and then up at the door before him. He knocked on the door a second time.

"Who is it?" a girl's voice snapped from inside.

"It's the DIAO," he shouted gruffly. "Open up."

In response, the door creaked open a fraction of an inch; Rolf caught a glimpse of olive skin and white-blonde hair through the crack and decided that he hadn't seen it correctly.

"Why are you here?"

"I'm looking for a boy named, uh, Bankhurst. He'd be about fifteen. Is he here?"

"No, I've never met a boy whose last name was Bankhurst. Are you sure you've got the right address?"

Rolf shook his head and buried it in his hands, then looked up again. "You don't have anyone named Bankhurst here?"

"Yeah, in fact, we do have someone here by that name."

"But you just told me you didn't!" Rolf cried, annoyed.

"No, I told you I'd never met a boy named Bankhurst. If you're looking for a boy, that's a real coincidence, because we do have a fifteen-year-old Bankhurst living here, and she is studying right now." There was venom in the girl's voice; evidently she did not appreciate Rolf's mistake.

"Can I talk to, um, her?" Rolf asked. "Privately?"

"You have an ID?" Rolf presented his card. "Come in, then." The door opened all the way, and Rolf observed that he had seen the girl correctly. Her olive skin contrasted sharply with her bushy white hair. "Come on, she's back here." She ushered him into the small dorm room. "I'll go get some pho," she shouted back to the girl inside. "See you when I come back." Rolf heard her close the door and walk down the hall. He turned to his interview subject, sitting calmly at the desk.

"If you are, in fact, the correct person, you can probably guess why I'm here."

"Depends who you are," she replied, dark blue eyes unwavering. He was a bit unnerved.

"DIAO. Department for the Investigation of Anomalous Occurrences, Director Rolf Howell." He extended his hand; she hesitated a moment before extending her own. They shook; her grip was tight.

"So." She settled in her seat, and he pulled up the chair from the next desk. "Why are you here?"

This was one thing that Rolf had not expected. "We need you to come in. Do some tests. An interview."

"Why?"

Rolf hesitated a second before answering. "We'll tell you when you come in..." he tugged on his earlobe, stressed. "It's really important. I can't tell you here."

"Blood tests?"

Rolf nodded, a bit uncomfortable.

"DNA tests?!"

He nodded again.

"Interview?"

He slowly nodded, a third time.

She seemed surprisingly comfortable with it. "When?"

"Does Friday at one sound good?"

It was her turn to nod. "Just one thing before you go, if you are looking for weird stuff, or anomalous occurrences, whatever you want to call it. Someone visited me this morning, a young guy, maybe twenty, someone I didn't recognize. He said some weird stuff and I thought you might be interested. He accidentally dropped this on his way out." She produced a key in a plastic bag from the back of her drawer. "Also, please let me know of any test results you find, and for goodness sake, answer as many questions as you ask. I have a right to know, correct?"

"That's not really- yes, yes, I suppose so," Rolf recalled who he was talking to, and took the bag.

She rose from her seat, red hair swishing around her pale face. "Pleasure meeting you, Director." She extended her hand and he took it, a question in his eyes- a question she could read. "Lillian," she answered. "Lillian Bankhurst."