January 3, 2008 – MaNA Company Heaquarters, Chicago

“What should I do? First they put me on paid leave after that incident, and then they call me here to discuss my job! And here I am outside the Golden Gates about to stand before the Board of Directors of MaNA.”

Fred Oster paced the plush velvet carpet, already a trail forming with each step of Cleverly footwear. The man pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his black Armani suit and dabbed at his forehead. Standing guard over its master was a pristine briefcase—black to match everything else.

“Five minutes to go. Oh man oh man. What if I don’t make it? I’ve done everything I could. My suit’s pressed, my hair neat and combed, shoes cleaned, tie straight, but what if I have something in my teeth?”

Fred dove for his briefcase and frantically searched for a pocket mirror and toothpick accessory. Flipping it open he smiled and searched for any scrap of food that might have remained from lunch on the immaculate teeth. Naturally white hair was parted neatly in the middle, the unruly mass obeying Fred’s will for
once.

“Nothing.” He slipped the device back into the briefcase. “Okay Fred, calm down. This is just like all the other interviews. Nothing to worry about. Only the other interviewers weren’t some of the five most powerful immortals to ever live.”

The gold-lined oak doors opened slightly and a young woman stepped outside, closing the elegant woodwork. Her clothing suggested a supervisor, as did her commanding posture and pace. She fixed iron eyes on Fred and walked briskly to the businessman before she handed him a folder and said, “The Board will see you now. Good luck.” And she was gone. Literally vanished into thin air.

Fred gingerly opened the folder and read the first page of the inside. With a start he realized that every page detailed the two events that had shot him up the corporate ladder starting just two years ago, along with the third that might sink his career.

He looked up at the imposing doors. “No going back now. Do or die.” He picked up his briefcase, took a deep breath, and stepped inside.

The first impression he got of the boardroom was one word. Massive. The ceiling stretched into infinity, he could see a horizon line at what he hoped was the far end of the room, and the warmth felt noticeably different from the deep freeze outside the building. The only thing that indicated they were still inside was the door behind him and the rectangular table in front of him with the five board members of MaNA.

“Welcome, Fred Oster. Please come in.”

Fred didn’t move, but he was suddenly at the bottom of the table with five people appraising him. He stood frozen, unsure of what exactly he was supposed to do. To him, every eye looked hostile, every mouth curled into a sneer, and every mind discovering his fear.

“Please, have a seat.” The one who spoke, an old man wearing the white version of Fred’s suit, waved his hand and a plush chair appeared in front of the businessman. “To begin, I shall each introduce my colleagues and I. I am Mr. Rose, though you may know me as Merlin Ambrosius.” He gestured across the table to a young man in a red suit with wild hair. “Mr. Amel, or Nicholas Flamel.”

“Please, call me Nick.” The man picked up a glass of red liquid that hadn’t been there before and took a sip.

Merlin continued, this time indicating the woman sitting next to him in a prim and proper position, everything about her immaculate and distinctly feminine. “Mrs. Cee.”

“Circe, if you will. Manners must be observed, even if you are a man.”

“She is a little temperamental.” This drew a glare from Circe and a chuckle from Nicholas. “Ms. Baba Yaga.”

“I am Ms. Bay today.” The woman was also old and wrapped in dark clothes, with her face hidden by misplaced shadow, but as she locked eyes with Fred, he knew that it would be a mistake for anyone to take age as a factor.

“Ms. Bay it is. And I will let our illustrious Chairwoman introduce herself.” Mr. Rose nodded to the woman at the head of the table.

“I am Ms. Lefa, formally addressed as Morgan le Fay. I am also Chairwoman of MaNA. Welcome, Fred Oster, we have heard much about you, and the time has come to discover whether what we heard is truth or not as well as your ultimate fate with the company.”

Ms. Fay snapped her fingers and a folder identical to Fred’s appeared in front of her. She opened it and slid out the first page. “On May 18, 2006, you first became an employee of MaNA. Tell me, what was your job?”

“Assistant supervisor at a MaNA toy factory in New Jersey, ma’am.” Fred felt wary. The Chairwoman had him on guard, as did the furtive glances Circe kept shooting him.

“And you were promoted in less than five months. Can you tell us the events that led to your advancement?”

“Well, it was a slippery slope that started when an intern animated a few teddy bears and they got out into the public. Then things went from there…”

August 27, 2006 – MaNA Toys, New Jersey

“Mr. Oster! Another report from Wisconsin! A little girl was walking alongside her teddy bear when going to school and the neighbor saw it. They’ve been memory wiped but the bear is still loose.”

Fred Oster walked quickly towards the supervisor’s office. “I can’t do anything, Jill. I don’t have the authority! Mr. Bin is the only one who can do something about this situation.”

“But who am I supposed to give this information to?” she hurried after Fred, voice rapid and pleading.

“Give it to Mr. Bin. He’s the supervisor!”

“Karen told me that wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“Karen? Didn’t she quit this morning?” Fred pushed through a door labeled Employees Only with Jill following close after.

“Yes, but she said that Mr. Bin was unable to act, so I came to you.”

“Wait…oh this isn’t good.” Fred stopped walking and sprinted up the flight of rickety metal stairs and attempted to pull open the door to the supervisor’s office. Locked.

He banged on the door. “Mr. Bin! We have a situation that requires your attention!”

He heard a faint quack inside the office and a shuffling on the carpet.

“Mr. Bin? Stand back Jill.” Fred pointed at the doorknob and then to the floor below. The fixture ripped out of the wood and bounced away. Fred seized the hole and pulled the door open before rushing inside. “Mr. Bin?”

“Quack.”

Fred and Jill looked down to see a white duck wandering around the office, quacking every now and then. It wore a blue tie. Fred looked at the imposing swivel chair Mr. Bin usually sat in and saw an empty suit.

“Jill?”

“Yes, Mr. Oster?”

Fred was silent for a moment. He knew what had to be done, and with Mr. Bin incapacitated it fell to him, but he also knew of the potential consequences. He turned to his coworker and said, “Cut power to the machines and issue a recall of all toys made within the last week. Cite health reasons, lead, gasoline, any kind of harmful substance. I want every single toy that can move on its own back in this factory to be de-animated. And I want it done right now. Go!”

The woman scurried out of the office and Fred looked down to see the duck waddling around. He sat on the desk and looked at his former boss. “I guess this means I’m promoted now, huh Mr. Bin?”

The duck quacked.

“Ah, a fortuitous event for you, eh?” said Mr. Rose, stroking his long silver beard. “The toys were successfully recalled and the whole event was covered up as faulty manufacturing. And when the investigation concluded that your quick assuming of command was the factor that saved MaNA from being exposed, you were promoted to supervisor and transferred.”

“The effort was not a complete success, though.” Ms. Fay fixed her cold gaze on Fred and he shifted uncomfortably. “Our information shows that four of the animated dolls were still out in the public and had to be destroyed.”

“Still, to assume responsibility in the heat of the moment was admirable, and it prevented any further damage, don’t you agree Morgan?” Mr. Amel raised his glass to the Chairwoman, grinning.

“Yes, it did.”

“And what happened to the supervisor?” said Ms. Bay, scrutinizing Fred.

“The employee, Karen Ambrosius, was skilled in transformative magic, just as her father taught,” she glared at Mr. Rose, who tried to look all too innocent. “It was permanent. Mr. Bin is now enjoying his home in Montana. A nice lake on a wildlife preserve. Last I heard he has a mate and six ducklings.”

“A happy ending then. Really, he seems much happier as an animal than as a man.” Circe looked at Fred as she said this.

I rather like being human, thank you very much. Fred broke eye contact with Circe when she smiled mischievously.

“And that leads to the second event.” Ms. Fay picked up another page and set it in front of her. “Nine months ago there were reports of Excelsior, our name brand soda, causing strange reactions in individuals who drank it. Or at least, the ones who drank the product form the factory you managed. Now, how did that happen?”

“Several weeks before the first report of such an incident, the factory had a small going-away party for a retiring employee. Some of the older wizards decided to start showing off their magic, conjuring banners, balloons, silly string, and more before cleaning up. But, it wasn’t until the reports came in about Excelsior that we shut down the machines and took a look inside.”

“And what exactly did you find again?”

“Turns out some of the silly string had missed its target when being conjured and interfered with the mechanics. The built up energy ripped open a hole to the Aether, which seeped into the drinks and magically supercharged them.”

“And can you tell us how you handled that situation?”

“I gave an executive order telling every MaNA employee about the problem and invoked a mass teleport of every affected person for interview and memory replacement.”

April 7, 2007 – Excelsior Production Plant, California

“Your name?” Fred Oster sat behind a desk not unlike the former Mr. Bin’s in an office not too different either. In front of him was a chunky man dressed in whatever he had on the night before with a dazed look on his face as a result of the Veritas spell.

“Thomas Jinks,” he said, a bit of drool leaking out the side of his mouth. Fred tossed him a napkin.

“Mr. Jinks, you purchased and consumed a bottle of Excelsior soda, correct?”

“Yes. It was delicious. The price tag stung, though.”

“Please only answer the questions I give you. Now, did anything unusual happen after you drank Excelsior?” Fred’s pen zipped back and forth along a piece of paper, recording the interview, a simple animation spell.

“Yes. I was able to point at things and they vanished.”

“Vanished as in disappeared from this world or just became invisible?”

“Gone.”

“I see. And what did you do when you found out about this new ability?”

“Pointed at things. My wife, my dog, a few random people on accident, and…oh yeah. The Golden Gate Bridge. Bridge vanished and then reappeared, though.”

“As well it should. Enchantments aren’t broken that easily.” Fred looked down at the paper. “Alright, I think that’s all. Please go out the door and to the left, where you will be helped.”

“Okay. Thank you.” The man got up and absentmindedly wandered towards the door. He bumped into the doorframe and lurched out of sight.

Fred pushed a button on the telephone and said, “Another one coming to you guys. Remember that I want every memory of this incident replaced with the happiest things you can imagine. Use your imagination, but it better be fan-friggin’-tastic.” He picked up the phone and dialed in a number. “Hello, Repair Team? I’m sending you information regarding what I believe to be a number of teleportations. Please scry their whereabouts and return them. Thank you.”

Hanging up the phone, he rubbed his eyes a bit and placed a new piece of paper underneath the hovering pen before he pressed the intercom button. “Next complaint please.”

It was going to be a long day.

“You do realize that you neither had the authority nor reason to invoke an executive order, correct? Had your gambit failed, the consequences would have been severe, Mr. Oster.”

“Aw, lighten up on the kid, Morgan. It’s no wonder Arthur avoids you at parties.”

“My brother is a good-for-nothing layabout Nicholas. He was supposed to wake up during World War II and lead Britain to victory, but what did he do?”

“Here we go again,” said Circe, rolling her eyes.

“He wakes up, nudges Churchill, then goes right back to sleep. Completely irresponsible! I had to ask Merlin to somehow get the States into the war to keep Britain from being overwhelmed.”

“Yes, we’ve heard the story countless times, Morgan, can we please stay on task? You were saying about consequences?”

Morgan le Fay collected herself and said, “Yes, that’s right. But, as it happens you were able to completely contain the affected and safely returned them while fixing any damage, not exactly simplest feat. Your interviews were also invaluable in helping us understand the Aether better, and we have formed a team to look into possible uses in our products. It is for this reason that you stand before us today and are not on the street.”

Mr. Rose grinned at Fred. “So far so good. You haven’t screwed up majorly, demonstrate capable leadership, and show a good head for your job.”

“But then we received this third and final report.” Morgan slid out one last piece of paper. “And that is why you have been called here today.

Fred felt a chill down his spine. He knew what she was talking about; it had been his biggest mistake in the history of his life and could have cost lives if his luck had been any worse.

“Precisely three months ago, five months after you had been promoted and transferred to MaNA Cars, there were reports of vehicles in the factory becoming animated and terrorizing the entire factory. No casualties, but an astronomic number of injuries. And the one who animated them,” she looked up, “was you.”

Fred sighed and said, “Yes. While it was an accident, I am at fault for the damage done on that day.” The board members betrayed no emotion as they looked at him before returning their gaze to the Chairwoman.

“After you confessed, you were placed on paid leave up until now. Perhaps we would better understand this if you told us just what happened.”

“It was a simple mistake. I had the task of writing ten reports and the computers were down. So, I hit upon the bright idea of animating my pens to write my thoughts. A simple enough spell I had done countless times. But my mind wandered and my aim was off. Instead of the spell hitting my pens, it hit a completed car, and then another, and then another until there were ten cars roaring around the factory seeking blood.”

October 3, 2007 – MaNA Cars, Georgia

The sounds of screaming metal and tires echoed in the factory as Fred and every employee peered over the balconies of the upper floors at the racing cars on the factory floor. A few attempted to get into the stairwells, but just scratched their paintjobs on the resolute walls. Most of them were content to zip around, trying to find any human being still down there.

Fred looked around him. There had been no casualties, but broken bones, unconscious victims, and blood was prevalent. And it was all his fault. An animation spell or ten that had missed their targets because of his absentmindedness.

One of the cars honked loudly and Fred looked back over. One car in particular, a silver one sleek and shiny, honked frequently and roared its engine, with the other cars responding. Barely ten minutes alive and they already had a leader.

“So what are we going to do now,” he said to no one in particular. Some employees looked at him then away again. He had already admitted his fault. That had probably been a mistake. “Offices are on the bottom floor, we’re stranded, and cell phones don’t work in here.”

No one answered.

“I thought as much. Well then,” Fred stood up and stretched, “Guess I better go take care of this problem.” He walked towards the stairs, wondering just how in the world he was going to stop ten cars that could crush him with ease. He became aware of the vibrations in the floor that told him people were following. “Go back. This isn’t your problem.”

“With all due respect, sir, any problem of yours is a problem of ours.” A young man pulled up next to him as he walked. “Most supervisors would be sending their minions to deal with their mess, but you’re different, you were going alone. I’m not saying I forgive you for this, but it’s a start.”

Fred sighed again. “Well, my mother always told me to clean up after myself. So who am I working with?”

“You’ve got Cameron, Elizabeth, Leonardo, Miguel, and Albert, that’s me.”

“Six people to take on ten cars.” Fred walked down the steps, the others keeping close. “This seems tricky.”

“Six spellcasters, sir. While I don’t think we could take on the cars directly…”

“Maybe we could take them on indirectly. My thoughts exactly. Alright, here’s my plan. See the far wall, where we test for crashes? We’re going to crush them right against it.”

“How are we going to do that?” The feminine voice was behind Fred, but he didn’t turn around, continuing to descend.

“Do all of you know how to make a wall of force?”

An echoing of, “Yes.”

We’re going to be compactors. Pair up and follow my lead.” Fred leaned over the railing of the second floor. The cars still didn’t know they were there. “Let’s fly.”

A simple incantation and all six silently soared to the crash test wall. They touched down and got behind cover before peeking out. None of the cars had seen them.

“Alright, here’s how it’s going to go down,” whispered Fred, drawing a little glowing diagram on the floor with his finger. “There will be three groups comprised of two people each. Each will form a wall of force and form a box on my signal, with the crash wall being the fourth piece. What I’m going to do is attract their attention and then fly up when they try to hit me. That’s the signal for you to crush them. Ready?”

A whispering of affirmatives.

“Then here I go.” Fred stepped out from behind cover and pointed at an engine that had been under repair before pointing at the leader car. The machinery soared through the air and smashed the windshield, prompting honks and squealing of tires as every car barreled towards him at top speed. He stood his ground.

And without warning he shot into the air as a couple tons of metal slammed themselves into the wall. The other employees were out and had formed their walls immediately, with the first pushing against the wall followed by the other two. To finish up Fred formed a wall beneath him and compacted the screaming cars into a neat little cube.

“I see. So you put yourself at risk to fix a mistake you caused. But, that was still several hundred thousand dollars worth of materials you destroyed with that plan, not to mention the costs to heal all the injured and keep them quiet about the whole affair. Yes, I think we’ve heard enough. Please wait outside while the board deliberates your fate.”

And swift as thought Fred was standing outside the oak doors as the lock clicked. He slowly walked to a chair and sat down, his mind blank. He wasn’t aware of the time as nearly half an hour passed.

Finally, at quarter past three in the afternoon, the door opened and Fred felt a very strong suggestion that he should go in.

When he walked into the room again, he stopped dead and looked around. Where once there had been a room so big it seemed without end now stood an ordinary business boardroom. The far glass windows showed snowy flurries outside.

But the table remained. All five board members waited for him to take the vacant seat he had been in. He walked to the table and sat down.

Ms. Fay looked at him intently and said, “We have come to a conclusion. As of now, you are officially off paid leave.”

Fred didn’t say a word, but his eyes ceased to be glazed over as the news hit him. He attempted to work his throat several times but no sound came out. The other board members didn’t look at him and kept their eyes closed.

“Furthermore, you are no longer a supervisor of MaNA.”

This one pierced a little deeper. Thoughts ran rampant through his head. Was he fired? Demoted? Transformed into an animal and set free into the wild?

“This is your new assignment.” She levitated a nondescript battered folder to Fred’s hands. He opened it and started to read.

His face became white, as did the knuckles when he clutched the paper with such ferocity that his hands couldn’t stay still. And finally, eyes wide and jaw dropped, he said, “CEO of MaNA?”

Mr. Rose chuckled. “You had fun stringing him along there didn’t you, Morgan?”

“I think someone as old as I am is entitled to have a little mischief every now and then don’t you?”

The two of them laughed as Fred resumed staring blankly.

“If you’re wondering why, It’s obvious, isn’t it? You’ve demonstrated natural leadership, a clear head during crisis, and a willingness to shoulder responsibility. Not bad, for a man at least.” Even Circe was smiling at him.

“Yes. Youth can confer some wondrous benefits. But, make certain that those traits of yours carry over to old age, hmm?” The shadows lessened just a bit around Ms. Bay.

“Ah, Baba, you always know what to say. Cheers to the new CEO!” Nicholas Flamel lifted his glass, followed suit by the other board members and Fred himself, unable to keep his smile from spread to the far corners of his face.

“Cheers, to a new age for MaNA!”