Fifty-Seven

Out of the Bear Trap

Steve Mason had originally planned to go to Whitebridge that very Monday. But then reality set in, and it had taken him some time to arrange for someone to repair the damages on his house after his home office had been destroyed. Then there was the nuisance of having to deal with banks and businesses and lawyers. He couldn't help but feel frustrated about the inconvenience of having to do so much of his business in person or through Owl Mail when he was used to spending all day inside his house without lifting a finger. After having to send his own wife to grocery shop in person, he finally got fed up and went to a temporary agency to hire someone only to be told that they had lost all of their employment lists. To make matters worse, when he got his hands on a financial newspaper, he found out that his investments in Silverbook, pumpkin, and Charmbasket had plummeted to the floor.

It was Steve's desire to find someone to blame that drove him to toss all of his other business aside and make his way over to the school a few days later. He had been hoping that the school had been sharing in his misery, since they were probably realizing by now just how much they had taken their devices for granted and how horrible it was to do without them.

Perhaps if he had gone on Monday, he might have seen some of that misery. But this was now Thursday, and Whitebridge had several days to get comfortable with their new routines. He had missed the impressive stack of Wizardnet devices that had been chucked in the non-burnables bin, because it had already been taken away. He had even missed the chaotic exchange of shipping boxes that had been sent and received as the four schools made sure that the Whitebridge, Pitt WVS, and Allegheny WVS had everything they need to resume classes in a dependable manner.

In fact, the last that Steve had even heard about the situation at Whitebridge was when his cousin had told him that his wife had quit, ranting about the working conditions since she no longer had a Wizardnet device. Steve was very much expecting to walk into a disaster, but what he witnessed was what looked like a typical morning. Students were in the hallways on their way to next morning class, having normal conversations of who was dating who and discussing whether to meet in the Commissary or have lunch in the garden.

When he stepped into Brenda's office, he couldn't help but stare, amazed at the transformation and feeling as if he stepped back in time. In the right corner next to the door sat an old Royale typewriter on a small, metal two-level filing cabinet, while on the left there was much taller filing cabinet, attached to a combination coat locker and utility cabinet. Brenda's desk looked bigger than it had been before, despite the fact that it was the same desk. The reason was because there was no computer on it now. Instead, it had a couple of paper trays, an appointment journal, a mug with pen and pencils inside, and a quill and ink set. Attached to the left wall next to the desk was a very large paper calendar with all of the school's events listed. To the right was a beautiful oil painting of a older witch with greying hair and a prim, old-fashioned but high quality robe. Behind Brenda's desk, her bookshelves appeared to be a good deal higher than Steve remembered, but there was still a gap between them for the window that looked out into the garden.

"Good morning, Steve. You're here for your appointment with Wind, I expect?" Brenda inquired.

"I didn't make an appointment, but yes, I'm hear to see the Dean."

"Madame Priscilla, could you see if Dean Elk is ready for his first appointment?" Brenda asked.

"I believe he is, Mrs. Johnson," Priscilla confirmed with a polite nod and a smile.

"You may go on over, Steve," Brenda informed him.

"Where did you get that painting?" Steve asked.

"It's a Francis Pyther, but it's just a loan," Brenda said wistfully. "I almost wish it wasn't. I'm getting a bit attached to her already."

"Thank you, Mrs. Johnson," Priscilla said with a smile.

Shrugging it off, Steve walked over to the Dean's office. He wasn't surprised that Wind Elk's office hadn't changed as much, considering that Wind had never owned a computer, phone, or tablet and had never had much interest in them. Even so, his office had some changes as well. Just like Brenda's office, he also had an appointment book and a quill and ink set on his desk. Along with that, he had a copper-framed mirror, and there was a painting on his wall of a right jolly old Elf in pine green robes and a velvet burgundy cap.

"What is that thing?" Steve asked flatly.

"What am I? What are you?" the painting challenged him with open dislike.

"All right, Jangle, please be polite," Wind told the painting.

"Of course, Dean Elk. I am more than capable of it," Jangle replied as if in doubts that he could say the same about their visitor. "Mr. Mason is here to see you, sir."

"Thank you," Wind said. "Mr. Jangle is a Hyperborean Elf, one of the elves that live around Polaris Town," he explained. "I have the painting on loan from a friend. So, what can I help you with today?"

"I came to see how you were doing in this crisis," Steve said. Wind smiled.

"We're doing quite well, thank you," Wind replied.

"Did you figure out how to do POW tests then?" Steve challenged him.

"Come now, Steve. You know perfectly well that the Wizardnet has been obliterated. It doesn't even do any good to put those kits together, because there's nothing to connect to. Even the non-magical internet was crippled," Wind replied.

"Yes, but they've already managed to get vital services back up, where our network seems to be completely destroyed. Surely that suggests that what happened to their internet started on our end and spread to theirs through hybrid computers," Steve said.

"Steve, they were able to get their systems running because they have entire bunkers and warehouses full of redundant computer backups that are self contained and not on their internet. We have no way of achieving that feat with magic, since magic is always interconnected with itself," Wind replied. "In fact, I know of at least one Professor here who had digital currency stored on a device that wasn't connected to the Wizardnet, who later discovered that it also had been destroyed in the accident."

"Accident? This was no accident," Steve said. "This was a malicious attack on our society! It was completely intentional! In fact, I hear that the WIAB is investigating the cause, and on the Wireless, they said they are narrowing down the epicenter of this as being in the United States, and somewhere in the Midwest. This very city is within their radius circle, in point of fact. And if we find that it originated from this school, which would not surprise me in the slightest, there can be no doubt whatsoever who is responsible. I warned you not to hire a Dark Witch to this staff!"

"Jennifer? You're accusing Jennifer of this?" Wind said with obvious surprise. "Steve, I know you've always been biased towards her, but what reason would Jennifer have for destroying the Wizardnet?"

"To keep the school board from seeing the POW test results, why else?" Steve said.

Wind couldn't help but stare at him for a moment.

"That is by far the most ludicrous motive speculation that I have ever heard. You cannot possibly believe that anyone would destroy the Wizardnet just to prevent a standardized test," Wind replied. "Really, Steve, I know you've always had a very centralized world view, and indeed I know without a doubt it isn't all your fault, considering I know it was how you were brought up. Still, most people typically grow up and become better aware of their surroundings and the world at large, but for whatever reason, you have chosen not to step out of that bubble of yours... afraid, I think, of what lies beyond, since having an open mind can seem dangerous and frightening for someone like you. You listen only to those who agree with you and discard all other viewpoints. It doesn't matter what I say, I'm sure whatever beliefs you have will be the same upon leaving this room as they were upon entering it. But despite that, I would like to make two points that I hope you will take at my word.

"Jennifer's status in wizard society is so far above and beyond the confines of this school that any condemnation you may attempt while she is here has absolutely no effect on her overall career, influence, or place in society whatsoever. In fact, were you to somehow manifest some way to get rid of her by the end of the school year, it would not be seen as a poor reflection on her. On the contrary, it would be seen as a poor reflection of this school instead. Furthermore, if you keep attempting to condemn her, it will lead to your own condemnation. If I were you, I'd quit troubling her while you have a chance to walk away from it. As for those silly tests, I would like to officially inform you that regardless whether the Wizardnet is repaired or not, Whitebridge is no longer giving out any sort of standardized tests, not now nor ever."

"What! But what about college testing?" Steve exclaimed.

"Any students who wish to take the WAT test or the PAT test will be invited to take them when PITT WVS does theirs, and we'll provide sign-up lists and transportation so that they may do so," Wind said calmly. "But I have been doing a great deal of research this week, and I have discovered that more and more colleges have abandoned those tests in favor of Transcripts plus their own specialized exams. As I understand it, many colleges have found that standardized tests tend to be quite discriminatory. They favor students who are born in wizard families, who that can afford extra tutoring, and even favor those who are born with specific magic talents over those who aren't. In a way, it was rather like how our Items and Industrial Fair used to be in years past as opposed to this year; where the students who had the most money or whose parents were privileged with enough time to help them were the ones that ended up winning every year. Thanks to the Wizardnet failure, we now have a clean slate, and it has opened my eyes to other possibilities. Now is the perfect time to set a course correction for this school, and lead it to a better future for both its students and my faculty."

"She's bewitched you. You must be under the influence of the Imperius Curse," Steve said, stunned. "That's the only explanation."

"You really believe that, don't you? I knew you wouldn't listen to me," Wind said with a sigh, shaking his head. "You may leave at any time, Steve."

"Fine, I shall. And I am going straight to Superintendent Charleston with this!" Steve warned.

"Feel free. I really don't give a shit," Wind replied bluntly. "Have a nice day, Steve. But stay out of my school, you're really not welcome." Steve's jaw dropped in disbelief, storming out of the office.

"Jangle, could you please have Madame Priscilla tell Brenda that I don't want Steve coming back to this campus? I really don't know how to keep him out, exactly, but taking him off the permissions list and letting Mr. Green know he's not allowed in the gardens would be a start," Wind said.

"I believe the Rogue Painting might have some ideas on how to keep him out until the security is modified, Dean Elk," Jangle suggested.

"Thank you, would you please see if he would be willing to do so?" Wind replied.

"Oh, I'm sure he'll do so with extreme pleasure, Dean Elk," Jangle assured him with a smile.