Setting things up for Gef's goon squad bursting in. original 2017 nanowrimo content in italics, for context.
the summit is talked about
"An interagency summit?"
"Times are changing. The attack, the fall of the Soviet Socialist Republic. The new face of the enemy."
Moone scoffed. "The enemy's always looked the same; it's just the mundane world letting go of its funding for CIA that's presenting a problem. They don't realize the true threat. If the CIA loses its funding, Tetragrammaton goes with it."
Unwin, who probably knew a lot more than Moone about the true relationship between the secular and supernatural sister agencies, either didn't bother correcting Moone, knew as little as he did, or else Moone had actually guessed correctly. "Or restructures entirely. We don't need a separation in jurisdiction-- folklore is based around ethnicity and not nationality, which is one of the reasons that this summit will be a meeting between agencies."
“So they’re trying to persuade the mundane world to hold onto funding, if only to keep it centralized.”
“Not necessarily the mundane world. Mostly keeping it supernatural. A lot of the department heads, of each of the bureaus and agencies. Them and their aides, which is how I know of it. I’m actually invited, believe it or not. It’s at the Pentagram; being hosted by Defense. Solid chance they’d been going to cut, ‘Tetragrammaton,’ funding. That is, until the little domestic terrorist attack as of late.”
Moone digested this information. His entire scenario had been assuming that Tetragrammaton held together, and Gef stayed within the ranks of the organization. It hadn’t even crossed his mind that it wouldn’t. But if Moone’s agency- Moone’s old agency, that is, of course- dissolved, Gef would be in the wind somewhere, maybe picked up by a different agency, or maybe left to grow a terrorist cell of his own. Of all the other talking woodland creatures, maybe even. That’d be tremendously dangerous. If Tetragrammaton held together, there would at least be security in place, an environment where Gef would possibly be curtailed. But if he were to go outside, with the secrets that he knew...
Moone blew a breath out from between his cheeks. "The whole fate of my old agency is up in the air."
Unwin shrugged. "You want to get to MacBeth, he'll be there."
Pontifex answered immediately, as if he'd already formulated an answer to the question. "Precisely the way you described- if you have the ability to grant your aura to others."
Pontifex's aura was inside him already, strong and white and thickening everything else it came in contact with like a painting medium extending a paint and making the colors more vivid. Unwin's aura flowed into Moone now as well, with the associated Boons that Unwin had picked up along the way. Thinner, yellow and blue streaks. They weren't literally colors, but that's the best way Moone could describe it in his head. The yellow streaks must have been "future sight" definition of psychic, and the blue felt like the "mind reading" type of psychic power. Intermingled between them were minor boons, reds and oranges, that plumped up upon contact with Pontifex's power.
"You know what," Unwin continued, hand still pressed to Moone's forehead, apparently able to feel the thickening of his powers as Moone acted as a host to them. "I'm curious to see how my own boons would react enhanced, not just enhanced but, folded; I've got a few of them, and if one would be able to twist them around each other, instead of just having them work side-by-side, that would really be something."
"Wait, you're giving me your powers?"
"Gifting, yes. I mean, I'm keeping my own soul print and everything, you should just be developing a little psychic power from me, is all; it is part of my aura. The way that Pontifex can gift his aura and his powers, but keep his identity. I'm keeping my Gifting powers as well, of course, just as part of how the magic works. Just a touch and I take the powers back at any time."
"So I'm a psychic now."
No, I'm the psychic, thought Unwin. I'm just lending you my powers. The powers are still hosted it me, just being channeled through you.
Moone thought back, I'm not sure if that makes--
"Uh-uh-uh," said Unwin out loud. "I don't have my boons right now, you have them, remember? They still belong to me, as I was explaining, but, you're now the criminal mastermind."
"Right," said Moone. "Okay, and my evil plan is to... I mean, the plan is...
"Sorry, sorry. It's just that, you're the mastermind here, not me. I've never really learned long-term planning, so much as thinking on my toes."
"It's alright," said Unwin. "Actually, most of my planning skills come from my ability to see my own futures. I've picked up strategic thinking skills from them over the years, just as you must have picked up on basic survival skill. You're the one who should know how to plan now, even if it's a muscle you're not used to flexing."
Moone thought about this. "Yeah, that makes sense. So we're both tacticians now? That's kinda cool. My own survival skills non-supernaturally, they're mostly just instinct; I don't have the deliberate critical thinking skills you must have."
"I may be pretty good, but there are better strategists than me out there. Like, whoever bombed the Kryptos? The summit's an inevitable byproduct of the assassination and attack. It would still exist, I mean, there is all this politics going on, but, in this form now, it's going to be a whole lot bigger, where even I'm invited. So whoever thought of that. Changing the shape of the dialog. That attack must have been caused for the purpose of the summit, the reason for the attack was to regain funding, or whatever, performed by a radical within the company, for the greater good of the agency."
Moone thought about this, from his new perch as a strategist. Maybe it was the increased power Unwin had given him. Generally, like Unwin had said, it was a muscle that Moone wasn't used to flexing, it would have taken him a while to warm up to the powers. But Pontifex's boon enhancing the skills, he was picking up on it surprisingly quickly. He ran down all the possibilities of what would happen at the summit, and how his boons would play in it. He told Unwin about his terrorist-cell-of-talking-animals theory, how dangerous that would be.
But Moone could always fight against danger if it came up.
"Alright, so, on the other hand, the Summit pretty much guarantees that the Tetragrammaton is staying centralized, to coordinate everyone's efforts against this, 'new face of the enemy,' or whatever. I've got a theory, in my head, that my own agency may represent a threat to me, right? Keeping it together perpetuates their threat against me. Because they are a threat, right now at least definitely, if not always. And my boon kicks in against them, once they become a threat. Maybe once Secretary was killed, and the summit became inevitable, their threat against me became inevitable, because they turned against me, and are holding together."
"Yeah," Unwin said. "Or maybe..." He grew quiet as he seemed to realize something. "Maybe the assassination of the Secretary represents a different part to play in your boon."
Moone frowned around a mild belch. "I'm afraid I don't understand?"
"Oh, you'll have to forgive me. My powers right now aren't what they usually are, and my strategy skills are low, I'm just spitballing."
Unwin spoke slowly, deliberately, as if trying to work it out even as he spoke.
...
In that moment, it was as if a silver veil had been placed in between them. In that moment, Unwin had turned from ally to enemy.
"No. Me, plan all this now? I..."
"I can't let you go to the summit," Unwin continued. "So your assassinating the Secretary was inadvertent, just your boon kicking in reflexively. That's fine. But that's where I'm letting the buck stop. [It'd be best for everyone if you stood down. Now.]"
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