For a long moment, everyone seemed to consider the options, but eventually, Takako uttered a soft murmur of recognition. “They don’thaveany findings yet, right? Or they would present them.”
“That’s what I’m thinking.” Jo wasn’t sure if they had zero findings or just inconsequential ones, but she nodded anyway; it fit everything that had been said so far, and was the best direction forward. “If the scientists had something, there’s no way they’d let the government call off the evacuation knowing the danger Fuji poses.”
“Then what are we going to have to do to make sure they arrive at findings worth sharing and evacuating over?” Eslar asked, more to himself than the group, one dark green thumbnail caught between his teeth as his eyes narrowed in concentration. “And make sure they reach these conclusions with enough time for all the people that need to move to do so?”
Things looked about as hopeless as ever, but Jo couldn’t help but feel a small swell of pride as everyone began floating ideas across the table. Perhaps her contribution hadn’t been a total failure after all.
No, it’d been an epic mistake. Jo couldn’t let herself lose sight of that, or the monster of pride would crawl onto her back and whisper in her ear again. Getting everyone back on track was, at best, repentance.
“Oh!” Nico sat up, not quite slamming but definitely placing his palms heavily on the table. His gaze instantly sought out Jo’s, an enthusiasm there that was both endearing and motivating. “What if they have no findings because they don’t have anything strong enough to perceive them?”
Jo mulled that over. “You mean, they don’t have the technology?” It seemed outlandish that, out of all of the technological advancements her time period had under its belt,thiswould be the one thing that had fallen through the cracks. They had androids petitioning to live normal lives, indistinguishable from humans, but not better earthquake detecting materials?
“Let’s say they don’t have proper measurement tools for correct prediction information. We’d need a stronger seismograph—something that can measure deep-layer tectonic shifts and then predict future movement based on these micro-movements.” Eslar continued, frowning as well in deep, disgruntled thought.
Jo actually took a small step away from the table, taken aback with surprise. The elf was from a time period that was so long ago, and so far from her own, that it was utterly inconceivable to Jo to even imagine. Yet, he could navigate technology better than most from Jo’s own times. As annoying as he could be in his occasional role of “team mom,” Eslar was truly something else.
“I can do that.”
All eyes turned to Samson, his brow furrowed and eyes distant, as if he hadn’t even realized he’d spoken. Jo could see one hand tapping an unnatural rhythm against the table as his other fiddled with a cube shaped object held a few inches away from his lips. His fingers shifted with practiced ease, a soft magical aura emanating from him that Jo could feel all the way from the other end of the table.
The silence following his statement stretched long enough that Eslar had to cut back in, clearing his throat to get the craftsman’s attention. Samson jumped slightly, though his hands continued to fiddle; the cube seemed to mold beneath his fingers like a sentient clay, becoming something Jo could not yet envision. “Samson?”
“I can make what you need,” he clarified, eyes downcast, though not in a way that emanated any sort of self-consciousness. Instead, they seemed to shift about the open space in front of him as if already trying to work out a spatial understanding of his newest project. “It- It will be simple,” he went on. “Enough to convince anyone—scientist, government, prime minister. It should cover all of our bases, dig deep enough into the necessary seismic data that the evacuations will be irrefutable. Just tapping into the AI supercomputers for high-level calculations. . . Modifications, really. Nothing new. Just improving what’s there for them. I can do that. Yes, I can, no problem.”
For a long moment, Jo didn’t know what to say; it was the most she’d ever heard come out of Samson’s mouth at one time. But she wasn’t about to waste it. With a quick clearing of her throat, she nodded and tacked on the best look of motivated authority she could manage.
“You heard the man. He’s got the proof machine on lock.” She must really be getting used to the world of magic if she’d take that simple explanation from a thousand-year-old man as proof he could create such a thing. “So, now how do we get that machine into the hands of a scientist who can use it?”
From there, all discussion focused on hashing out logistics. If there was anything Jo had learned throughout her time as the Shewolf, it was the benefit of laying all the “best cards” out on the table, working out a foolproof methodology, and playing it like a poker game she had no intention of losing. They had aces up their sleeves—magic—and with it, there was no way theycouldlose.
This was merely about getting somebody to look at their hand and recognize the win.
Wayne and Takako took it upon themselves to masquerade as researchers looking to sell the updated seismograph machine to the head seismic facility, capitalizing on the recent interest in such a device. With Wayne’s magical abilities, conning their way into the office of the right people would be “a piece of cake”—or a piece of something from the 1920s that Jo promptly forgot (Tomato Pie, perhaps?). Then, it would simply be a matter of falsifying documents on Jo’s end just to tidy things up if anyone looked for evidence that Wayne and Takako were indeed part of a legitimate company. Another night of hacking the appropriate registries, creating documentation for the machine’s functionality, and their validity.
And, if she was thorough and careful, another night of opportunity for Jo to redeem herself.
Chapter 15
Ken and Goofo
THE DOOR TO the rec room opened with an icy breath. Jo instantly pulling her sleeves down over her hands.
Inside, the same set-up greeted her as last time: monitors, futon, and a freshly stocked mini-fridge of RAGE Energy. She blinked, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. It all looked pristine once more, as if waiting for her to make a mess all over again.
There was, however, one new addition. Draped over the back of the chair at the computer desk was a brand-new hoodie. It wasn’t her usual all black fare, but a deep navy ensemble with a slightly off-blue pattern over it that reminded her of abstract snowflakes.
Jo ran her fingers over the fabric, trying to place the material. It was softer than wool, higher quality than a cotton. . . cashmere? Not quite. It was different than anything she’d ever touched before and yet so similar to something she could’ve sworn she’d felt—likely a designer dress at a department store, the sort of thing she could look at and dream of but never afford.
“Really?” she asked no one but the seemingly sentient walls, trying to talk away the odd feelings it evoked in her. “You can give me a new hoodie, but you can’t make a room that’s less icy and can still have all my tech?” Jo slung her arms into the sleeves, waiting for a reply. There was none. Then again, she was a bit glad of the fact. She may be settled into her magical existence, but she had a feeling a talking mansion would take it a step too far. “Either way, thanks, I guess.”
Jo plopped herself into the chair. She didn’t run into the room this time or slide up to the keyboard with momentum. No, Jo leaned back, stretched out her legs, sank into the (surprisingly soft) hoodie the room had given her, and stared at nothing for several long breaths.
As if somehow knowing that she had yet to start in on her task, there was a knock on the door. Jo turned and what felt like a now distant memory came back to her—was the last person to knock on the door Pan?
She swallowed, making sure her voice was even and strong. “Come in.”
Part of her hoped that it was Pan; Jo wouldn’t mind a few minutes alone with that girl-creature to give her some uninterrupted pieces of her mind. But while that may be something Jo wouldlike, it was also perhaps not the best idea given that the mere thought of the supernova-haired woman still set Jo’s blood running hot. So, ultimately, she was glad it was just Wayne. As quickly as they could rise each other to anger, it also seemed they could put each other at ease.
