Malton's primary thaumaturgy lab—as he'd named it, though Viper just rolled his eyes—was buried underneath an unassuming shop a few streets away from the Culver-Malton building. Malton was a known frequenter of the shop, which sold books and other curios, so to see him enter in the middle of the day wasn't unheard of. The old man running the place gave them both a knowing wink as they headed straight into the back room.
Straight into the back, around the corner, through a rotating bookcase, past a retina scanner, a voice imprint, a handprint, down a steel elevator and another two floors, and finally into a wide box of a room stuffed in between all the old London sewers and undercity. Viper had no clue how Malton had managed to build it in the middle of the city without being noticed, but Malton often said there wasn't anything one couldn't do with enough money. Viper had long-since accepted it as fact.
Nothing, that was, until they'd discovered magic.
The secret might be out, but Malton still wanted to maintain a hold over his research as long as he could. Given their perfect and total infiltration of Laushire's system, he'd gone to great lengths to ensure absolute privacy for their own operation. Only three people had ever entered this room after it was initially sealed. Now, it was about to become five.
Viper smirked at Napowsky. The man was gaping at the sheer layers of verification and security as they descended into the antiseptic, evenly lit white lab space. "Isn't this overkill, sir?"
"Can't be too careful," said Malton over his shoulder as they walked down the steel staircase set into the wall. "Kleiner, as I instructed."
"Yes, sir." The other member of their party was one of Malton's research scientists, a man with doctorates in both theoretical and applied physics, plus a great many other educational achievements that Viper couldn't be bothered to remember. All he cared about was that the mousey-looking man with the nervous tic had cleared his background checks. Kleiner didn't have a speck of dirt on him, and Malton trusted him, so Viper let him into the circle.
Kleiner hurried down to the instrument panel set into the wall, checking the sensors. He'd brought several boxes of equipment as well, which Viper and Napowsky were lugging down the stairs. Kleiner instructed them to set up the sensors in a small circle around an open space near the center. Little towers of what looked like tiny satellite dishes, black boxes with revolving tops, antennae, and numerous other dark plastic and metal objects Viper couldn't begin to describe.
While he was setting up, Malton took them aside. "I retrieved your men."
Viper raised an eyebrow. "Thought Tacoma cops claimed the bodies."
Malton shrugged. "A well-placed bribe or two. They're on their way back to London now. My assistant will arrange discreet burials."
"They didn't have any family," said Viper.
"Of course," Malton nodded. "Nonetheless, they deserve a proper burial. They did their jobs."
Napowsky looked on with approval, even admiration. "Thanks, boss."
Right, that's why he's the guy in charge. Viper settled back, focusing on the future again. "They link us to the fight?"
"The Battle of Lakewood, as the talking heads coined it," said Malton, with a faint smirk. "No. Your men got away clean. The blame has been placed squarely on the mysterious golem-summoner."
"Hendricks."
"Yes, though the general public isn't aware of his identity yet." Malton scratched his chin. "I've been trying to come up with a plausible way I might have obtained that information. A quiet leak is still risky, and may not be believed even through the proper channels."
"Do we care, sir?" asked Napowsky.
They both looked at him, surprised. "'Course we care," said Viper. "The guy's a psycho. Blew up the whole damn neighborhood. Our explosives weren't anywhere near the structures."
"But I thought we wanted people distracted from what we're doing."
"Distracted is one thing," said Malton, while simultaneously launching a monitoring program on the bank of computer monitors. "We don't want them outright hostile to the idea of magic though. Public opinion is on this being a fight between awakened, and not the witch hunt it really is. If it continues, we won't be able to implement our own strategies for magic-fueled economies."
"So that's the end-goal, sir?"
Malton stopped typing. He glanced at Viper, slightly amused. "Your men don't actually know, and they still follow every instruction to the letter? I'm impressed, Stefen."
"Didn' need to know."
"Know what?" asked Napowsky, obviously confused. He looked between his two bosses, waiting for answers.
"We're in the business of energy, Napowsky," said Malton, and both of them were surprised he even knew the man's name. "At the end of the day, every industry boils down to energy."
"Every science, in fact," added Kleiner, rejoining them.
"Indeed." Malton nodded an acknowledgement. "Magic is just the manipulation of that energy in its rawest form, in a far more direct manner than we've ever believed possible. I want to harness that. I want to understand it and control it. I want to know everything there is to know about this new technology."
"And do what, sir?"
"Save the world," he said with a steely grin.