Merlin’s office door swung open, and he and his latest victim emerged. The chairman of the magical committee for something-or-other didn’t look quite as shell-shocked as the Amalgamated Neuromancy guy had that morning, so he must have been cooperating. He and Merlin shook hands, then Merlin approached Trix’s desk once his visitor was gone.
“How’s it going?” I asked him. “Are we getting allies?”
He sighed. “They’re reluctant to accept change, to acknowledge that the cheese has moved.” Oh boy, he was now quoting from the business books. This was going to be fun. “I’m having difficulty persuading them of the threat inherent in one lone renegade. They seem to have forgotten the last few lone renegades who caused serious trouble in the magical community. They hide their heads in the sand until the danger is so dire they can no longer ignore it. Arthur was the same way about Guinevere and Lancelot and about Mordred.”
It still blew my mind that he was talking about people I’d always considered fictional characters as people he knew and remembered. “Human beings haven’t changed all that much in the past thousand or so years,” I said.
“And how is your investigation coming?”
“It’s difficult,” I admitted reluctantly. “It’s all rumor and personal impression at this stage. But if you wanted the fact that we might have a spy to remain secret, I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed. It seems like the whole company knows, or will know before long.”
He rubbed his beard thoughtfully. “Now, that I find interesting. You, Mr. Palmer, and I are the only ones who know the full details—and the spy, of course. I haven’t told anyone, I can assume you haven’t told anyone, and I suspect Mr. Palmer has remained as guarded as ever.”
“I think most of it is guesswork. Someone saw Owen tear out of R and D, and there’s already some worry that we could have intruders or spies. Next thing you know, word has spread around the company that someone’s spying, and they broke into Owen’s office. Finding a real spy when everyone else is already doing their own spying is going to be nearly impossible.”
“This is only the first day of your investigation,” he said kindly.
The intercom squawked just then. “Katie-Bug, you there?” said Sam’s voice.
“Yeah, I’m here. What is it, Sam?”
“I’m at R and D. You’d better get the boss down here, pronto.”