The look on Lieutenant Bollen’s face in the morning told Jonas exactly what the cavalry officer thought about the previous night. The man was very diplomatic about it, however.

“Do you have any idea of how bad this could have gone?”

“It did seem a good idea at the time, Lieutenant. And besides, it worked,” Jonas replied.

The man exhaled slowly, obviously constructing mentally his answer.

“And so, basically, we’re done.”

“The biggest trick we need is to avoid the American noticing I went behind their backs.”

“I hope we can count on the lady’s discretion?”

Jonas thought about it.

“I think she enjoyed this a lot more than I did.”

“Probably because the consequences for her might not have been that hard since she’s an American subj… citizen.”

“Or maybe it’s the reverse, and me being a foreign envoy works to my advantage?”

The two ensigns keep carefully composed faces during the whole exchange, not wishing to be drawn into the argument.

“And you are completely sure you don’t need anything else in practice.”

“I could probably spend some time around the Gate or their starter zone, and maybe there is something special that I could observe that no one else could, but that’s hoping for miracles. The hard part is done, I have the information Babbage and the Duke really wanted.”

Jonas stirred his sweetened tea. Despite being a member of a known British party at the hotel, they kept providing coffee first, and he had to order tea again every morning.

“And I’d like to head back to England. We’re not too far from the new year, and I’ve been away too long. They’re having fun without me,” he said, checking on the team descriptor.

Team

Professions

Health

Mind

Jonas Sims

Solid Aethershaper (73)

489/489

625/625

Jonathan Gilbert

Layman (74)

1204/1204

570/570

Ira Heard

Careful Barrier (89)

1582/1820

807/807

Guss Fullmore

Abiding Assistant (84)

584/584

664/664

Laura Harvey

Calculating Grinder (83)

875/875

760/760

Alton Raby

Solid Gouger (84)

787/787

606/506

Despite the distance, the descriptor still updated, albeit slightly more haphazardly than when they were in the same zone. He could guess that they were fighting some creature, but given the lack of mind drop and that only Ira seemed to be having lost a little smidge of health, it probably was some basic creature instead of a guardian.

Still, they had gotten nearly ten levels while he was away. Quite frankly, he’d expected more, but they were clearly not pushing too much while he was away. At least Jonathan had gained two levels, inching slowly to the point where he’d finally switch to tier three at least and start rushing across levels.

A waiter came and brought a small folded note to Bollen. The man opened it, read it, and passed it to Jonas.

“Wait a moment. Something happened, and Volker has to stay at Gatewatch and he’s sorry but won’t be there until noon?”

“From what I’ve seen, the Gate Office administration is very busy. I suspect there are all kinds of stuff happening all the time. Maybe their boss finally came back from the capital and wants a briefing? Or something else entirely?” Bollen speculated.

“Sylvia said her ship had finally arrived from the south yesterday. Maybe it brought the man?”

“We might know if Mr Volker says something. But I wouldn’t count on it,” Bollen added.

“Yes. I swear, there’s never been a Profession more aptly named than Careful Opportunist in his case,” Jonas commented.

“More city visiting then?”

“If Blackeye is available. Or maybe we can just go. After all, it’s their fault if they’re not around. I’m not yet an instant kill for a non-Professional, but surely I can defend myself.”

Malcolm Volker carefully wrapped his napkin. The Professional had arrived even slightly later than announced, invited them all to lunch at the hotel, then spent most of the lunch brooding or something akin to it. Despite the German-sounding name, the man was supposed to be of Dutch origins. Jonas thought he had not inherited the fabled commercial abilities of his forebears.

“Mr Volker, I don’t see how else I can get any further. I mean, I agree not to get any close than two hundred and fifty feet to your Gate, you can fill the area with your Guard Units and whoever you feel necessary to get comfortable – as long as I can still see the Gate, which, given its size, should still be in the realm of possibilities.”

“And the French had devices that reached over everyone else’s heads…”

“Look, you can surround me with your highest Professionals holding me to make sure I don’t whip out something out of puppet if that makes you feel safer.”

No sooner had Jonas offered that than he immediately regretted it. If there were Professionals holding him, they’d get to see the descriptor.

But in a way, that gave him an escape clause, and a way to finally prove himself truthful, even if that was not a real requirement of his mission. That boiled down toward the approach. The Americans – and maybe his boss, too – were thinking in terms of strategic advantages, grabbed from others. Babbage had impressed him the way science worked; that knowledge begat knowledge, and it was the only gift you could give and retain at the same time. The tide that lifted everyone, and made decisions better, more informed.

It might still paint him with a bigger target as another of Adaptation’s peculiarities came to the fore, but knowing the Gate descriptors gave you nothing material. If the American thought of something for Babbage…

“I mean, Bollen and I have been trying to satisfy your demands, but ultimately, your President said yes to start with. Maybe your job is to find every fault there is, but at one point, either the United Kingdom and the United States of America offer trust or they don’t. And I get to explain to his Majesty George III you still don’t, and you get to explain to your boss why you personally don’t.”

Volker’s pained look told Jonas that he might have struck home. The man’s job was to negotiate, not to turn them back after all. Even a Professional had to answer to the politics of his country.

“I’m not sure we can muster all our forces just like that…”

“Yes or no, Mr Volker. Just tell me no, and I can ship out, and I or one of my team can come next spring and talk to someone else.”

“No, Sir. Miss Underwood has indeed checked out about two hours ago. And no, she did not say where she went.”

“She hasn’t mentioned which ship she went to?”

“There are nearly a dozen ships coming and going at all times, Sir. New York is always busy. You may enquire at the Port Authority if you know the lady’s destination.”

“No, thank you.”

Jonas turned to find Lieutenant Bollen waiting for him. He shrugged at the cavalry officer.

“She said she’d be moving to her ship’s cabin.”

From his expression, it looked like Bollen wanted to say ‘I warned you’, but the man did not speak.

Being in the hotel’s bar with his staff did not lift Jonas’ spirits. On the contrary, it made the contrast between the respectful cavalry officers and the relaxed, easy-going Professional even more obvious.

The ale was still the same. The difference was in the company, not the product.

“Got Volker’s answer,” Bollen said.

“Oh? Did he?” Jonas asked.

“Putting that pressure on him worked, apparently. I got a message back from the Gate Office just after dinner, and they agreed to let you come tomorrow. Under very heavy supervision.”

“Then, we should warn Captain Boyle.”

“Uh?”

“Yes. Once that’s officially done, we should head back to England as soon as the tide permits.”

“I think that those modern ships don’t care that much,” Ensign Manning offered helpfully.

“In any case, I think the esteemed Captain will need to gather his crew back before we ship out, so I think he’ll appreciate the warning,” the other ensign added.

“Exactly,” Jonas replied.

The four settled back in their seats, nursing their various drinks.

“It feels like I’ve been there for weeks, but it’s been only days.”

“Probably because it could have been done so fast, Sir,” Bollen offered.

“Maybe. Or that boss of our Mender’s cousin was right.”

“What did she say?” he asked.

“That most of the Professionals can’t stay away from the Labyrinth. Few retire.”

“And you’re feeling an itch then?”

“Maybe. It’s not something I can point to, like food or drink or anything. Just… I don’t know. Something I miss. Maybe.” Jonas slowly said.

“Then we’ll be on our way soon.”

“Yea. I could, theoretically, be back in London tomorrow. I’d just have to step into the Labyrinth.”

“How does that works?” Ahern asked.

“Professionals have fast travelling abilities across the Labyrinth. Once per day, I can go back to Gatepost, a hundred pace from the Great Gate. And, theoretically, once a week, go to a zone of the Labyrinth I’ve been before and picked as a choice.”

“Sounds awesome,” the ensign said, a tinge of jealousy in his voice.

“Works only in the Labyrinth, of course. Even for me. But don’t worry, ensign. I sincerely doubt they’re going to let me with a hundred feet of their Gate after all they’d done. I’ll be with you all the way across the Atlantic.”

All three cavalry officers simultaneously groaned at the perspective of eight or more days onboard.

The carriage led them into the Gatewatch square. In daylight, the place looked very different from the square he’d been that night. Looking around, he could see the expanse of terrain, the large of sights. Jonas realized they must have been very lucky.

He spotted the building which he recognized as the one they’d been hiding near the Gate – the complain office? Something like that. He could see why she’d picked it. It was close, yet out of the main thoroughfares into the square.

This time, he was arriving on the furthest approach to the Gate itself, and the carriage stopped just at the edge of the square itself.

Volker hadn’t been kidding during the trip when he said they were still taking “appropriate precautions”. There were around two dozen of the hulking metal figures of Gate Guard units, eight-plus feet tall faceless men with huge guns strapped on their arms.

And all of them turned to the entrance as soon as the transport stopped.

“In a way, it’s ridiculous,” he remarked to John Blackeye who was stepping down first from their carriage.

“How so?”

“It’s… overkill. One or two should be enough to stop me. I’m far tougher than a normal person, but…”

“But you’re not normal. Not even for a Professional,” he countered.

“Fine. But as I said, I need to get a little bit closer to see the Gate.”

John Blackeye shrugged. Both he and Malcolm Volker moved to his sides as the rest of his staff stepped down behind to accompany him.

Jonas advanced carefully. Even having seen the Gate, he could see more details now. All in all, it did look exactly like the London Gate in daylight.

And then the descriptor popped in his view, as he presumably entered the range. Instinctively, he stopped, and both American Professionals reacted by grabbing him, as he had feared would happen. Would they keep their sight on him, or look at the Gate?…

John Blackeye kept his eyes on him, but Jonas heard a light swearing from behind.

“Potverdorie!”

Jonas turned, but he’d expected it. Malcolm Volker was looking toward the Gate. A second later, he’d heard a muffled intake of breath that marked Blackeye’s only reaction.

“You see now? That’s all I am here for,” Jonas announced.

“Can’t believe it. That’s… a real descriptor. It’s really a Gate descriptor. I am actually seeing it. For real,” Volker rambled.

Jonas spotted Jonathan Atkinson crossing the square, heading toward them.

“Mr Sims. Well, you are finally there. You’re such an unknown quantity, I must admit I’m still wondering what you really want. I’m not Volker and expecting you to blow the Gate or something, because it doesn’t make sense politically, but Labyrinth makes stranger things happen.”

“Like having a Gate descriptor visible,” John Blackeye told Atkinson.

“Really? I thought that only happened while the Gate was shut down?”

“You know?” Jonas exclaimed.

“Of course I do,” Atkinson replied. “That team of yours that wanted access through the Gate last summer explained all that to the Gate Office. Repeatedly. It might not be common knowledge out of London, but we’re not country bumpkins beyond an ocean. If it concerns the Gate, we will assuredly know about it, sooner or later.”

“Then, yes. That’s what I’m checking.”

“Why, though? Trying to find some secret information about the Gate. Or Gates in general?”

“More or less. Your guys can tell you about it, anyway.”

“It’s clearly visible. Grab his wrist.”

“Uh? Why? I’m no Professional…”

“All those people in London were not. But they could see it when it was shut down,” Blackeye explained.

Jonas was floored. He hadn’t thought of that one. Well, Babbage would probably have, once he’d heard about it, and immediately tested that. Or he could have tried himself with any of the guards at the Gate once back.

Atkinson grabbed awkwardly his wrist, clearly not used to Professional etiquette. He then turned back to the Gate, squinting.

“So. I am supposed to see something? How do those ‘descriptors’ show up, by the way? It’s always ‘can’t really describe it’ when I ask.”

Both American Professionals sighed.

“Guess it was too much to expect,” Blackeye finally said.

“Yes. Just because Mr Sims is a strange case of a Professional doesn’t mean he can violate all the rules of the Labyrinth.”

He turned back toward Jonas.

“And that’s all? Just that.”

“The idea was to check the number,” Jonas felt like explaining.

“That 113? Why 113, by the way?”

“Scientists back home were assuming it could help to figure out if there were hidden Gates or something.”

“Trying to find ones that aren’t already under the control of someone. Like a shortcut to Asia. Or in Europe?”

“Something like that.”

“And by using ‘were’, I suppose this isn’t what you expected.”

“No. Just the same number as the Gate in London has.”

“So. That was a wasted trip?”

“Not entirely. As Babbage – one of those scientists – said, there are no good or bad results for a scholar. Just ones leading to different conclusions.”

Atkinson looked at the wrist he was still holding and released Jonas hastily.

“And I assume you’re now leaving us?”

“Gladly. I’d rather be back in the Labyrinth… and I am assuming you’re still not going to let me in, now that your people have seen what I was looking for.”

“Assuredly not. Just because mucking our Gate doesn’t make sense politically doesn’t mean I’m going to take unconsidered risks. Not unless I could get a lot more than just a furthering of Labyrinth cooperation.”

The four British were standing on the quay, next to the ramp to HMS Northwind. Captain Boyle was standing on the bridge, waiting for them to embark. The ship was eerily silent, but Jonas knew now that she could be on her way in minutes if need to be. Engaging the Crystal Power turning wheels was simple and straightforward, Boyle had explained him.

Jonas turned and proffered his wrist one last time to the Steadfast Pathmaker.

“Good luck to you in the Labyrinth, Mr Blackeye. And tell your tailor that I’ll be sure to use his suit.”

“It will probably make you look too colonial for your fellow Britons, but that the intent that counts,” the man replied.

“At least you were the reasonable one.”

“I’ve been across the Labyrinth for too long to get fazed by unknowns. If I did, I’d never have made to the high tiers,” he offered.

Jonas finally turned and climbed onboard. He turned back toward the harbour once on top, getting a last look at the Americas. Woolahan, the Captains’ officer servant grabbed his bag against his protests, scrambling to get it down to the cabin.

Jonas stayed up, until the ship finally separated herself from the quay, turning toward the south and the exit into the ocean. Then he went down to the cabin, to wait out the passage back home.

Careful Opportunist

(tier 4)

Required: 85 FOR, 45 DEX

Provides:

+5 health/+7 endurance/+18 mind/+10 aether per level

+1 Milestone/12 levels

Careful Opportunist Milestone: +9 FOR, +5 WIS, +4 FOC, +3 AGI, +1 STR, 1/3 aether per DEX

Skill set: Personal / Control