cause of great displeasure in the elevator attendant - the man refused to carry passengers down, referring to some stupid rules, and I never had time to check the accuracy of his words.
I slipped into the elevator booth, called the last - fifth - floor, and enjoyed the creaks of the winch and the roar of the well-oiled machine. No one attempted to take it down. The staff followed the rules! In the police headquarters, where half of the employees worked with dark magicians and another half were them, I was never nudged or sworn at, so the local culture of communication was up to the mark.
Kevinahari worked in her office. I always wondered what the empath did when she was alone; it turned out, she was making records – she probably drew up detailed dossiers on all the people with whom she had a chance to talk that day. I broke into her room without knocking; Kevinahari looked at me over her heavy horn rimmed glasses and immediately made the right conclusion. She put down her pen and moved the massive ledger to the edge of her desk.
"What happened, Thomas?"
"Something awful. I lost my patience, and it was really scary. Do you know that some damned necromancer from the capital harassed me? I am a respected dark mage, I obey the law," well, most of the time, "and I do not commit crimes!" In a systematic way, at least.
"I understand," the empa th cheerfully climbed out of her desk. "Follow me!"
And she pro mptly flew out of the office. In order to say anything else I had to catch her first.
We rolled down the stairs and raced down a couple of passages, reaching Satal's office on the shortest path. The senior coordinator, not expecting a thunderstorm, was quietly reading some papers.
"How long is this going to continue?" the empath tragically ushered herself in over the threshold and dragged me into Satal's office, though I would have preferred to stay outside. "I work hard, like a squirrel in a cage, and you nag each other's nerves! You are destroying all my work!"
" Ehh, Rona," Satal began, but the empath did not let him continue.
"I 've been Rona for thirty years!" she screamed, while falling into a chair for visitors with somnambulistic accuracy; her voice was filled with tears.
Oh shit… Our curator was hysterical; I had never seen her so agitated before. I began figuring out how to disappear without losing my dignity.
"If you do not immediately explain the situation to the boy, I'll tell him everything myself!" Kevinahari threatened grimly.
At that moment my ears started ringing. Revelations from the empath?
"Please don't!" Satal reacted quickly. "I'll do it myself."
The senior coordin ator nodded at me to take a seat. We stared silently at each other over his desk for a while. Kevinahari took out her handkerchief and began shedding tears into it. The magician looked at her as at a dubious pentagram - activation succeeded, but what would happen next?
"Ingernika is in danger," he said sternly . "Your country needs your special abilities. Do you understand?"
"No," I said gloomily, "I 'm kind of occupied as a university student."
We were not called up for service, even during a war, because alchemists did much more good inside the country, and dark magicians were always plentiful at the front line.
"Don't you want to help you r own country?"
"What is 'my country', and why is it kin to me?"
T he senior coordinator frowned. A patriotic dark magician - what a show! However, having met an otherworldly with high morals, I could believe anything.
Kevinah ari deafeningly blew her nose. Satal surrendered.
"Well," he sighed, "listen here! The frequency of registered supernatural phenomena varies strongly with time."
I nodded: "Yes, Uncle told me that. It was even worse previously."
"Not exactly!" Satal brushed my reply aside. "Look broader. Before the advent of NZAMIPS, nobody kept statistics of breakthroughs, and 'worse' and 'better' were subjective concepts. When our analysts had reviewed the data accumulated