The lift doors open; I step out and move down the hall, still escorted by the soldiers. I reach the door of the Office of the Director and it soundlessly retracts into the wall. The soldiers stop just outside the door as I enter.

The far wall is little more than a huge window, and it is there that Michael Turing stands, back to me, looking protectively down at the city which is his to care for. The trust of the Council of the Technocrats and the larger population of Melbourne has so far proven to be well-placed; Michael Turing has led better than anyone could have expected.

Slowly he turns to face me, a grim smile gradually emerging on his face. Turing is about a dozen years older than me. His sandy-brown hair is beginning to show grey, likely from the stress of managing an entire nation for just over a decade. We’re about the same height, though he is slightly stockier than I. Piercing green eyes heighten the air of authority he naturally projects. In short, Michael Turing looks every bit the part of the born leader he is.

“Aldain Walker, Proxy of the Mistress of Pain and Sorcerer of Carlisle.” He executes a near-perfect imitation of a Carlislander bow. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person.”

I smile back and bow as well. “It is an honor to be your guest, Director Turing. However,” I say, displaying my wrists, “your safety precautions, while both wise and understandable, have left me at a considerable disadvantage.”

“Oh, of course,” he says, moving to his desk and pressing a button. The glow suffusing the suppressors dims and I feel the cuffs loosen. He gestures to a chair across from his desk and sinks into his own chair as he implores me to sit.  I do so.

Turing continues on apologetically. “It’s an unpleasant necessity, I’m afraid. I would have mentioned it in our correspondence, but shorter messages are, of course, more secure.”

While he speaks, I slip the loosened suppressors off and set them on the desk. The sense of relief and power, of completeness I feel as the magic is returned to me puts me much at ease. I shake my head and wave a hand in dismissal.

“No apologies necessary. I was neither surprised nor offended. Caution is nothing but a virtue for people in our situation.”  Suddenly struck by a peculiar thought, I chuckle to myself.

“Something funny, Sorcerer?” Turing is a little confused.

“Only to me, Director. I just wonder what my father would have made of my lifestyle these days. It seems I defy the Teachings of Marrin and the sacred Word of the One at every turn. And now I’ve come to collaborate with the most prominent of the One’s Forsaken.”

Turing smiles. “I’ve always felt that the One had simply chosen my people for a different path. We may lack magic, but we are all of us blessed with greater intelligence and curiosity than the average man. It has always been the view of the Six Families that the greater affront to the One would be ignoring the gifts given to us and instead choosing to lament over ones withheld.”

“I think I like your interpretation of the One a little better than Marrin’s.” My expression grows a bit more serious and I sit up a bit more in my chair. “But the time for idle talk has passed, I think. Let’s get down to business.”