Morning


Yavin Morgenthau, not unlike many deep sea creatures, rarely left his depths to visit those waters closer to the sun. He preferred for the fish to come to him. However, in this case, it was imperative that he exhibit a mixture of respect and deliberation.

Gabrielle Pepper was too obvious, too above board. His sources told him that the Deputy Head, Johann Spectre, was the wizard to see. A clever man of many tongues who seemed to get along with all kinds of people and possesed friends in all the important pockets. He was also a transplant, which appealed to Yavin's sensibilities.

"Mr. Spectre," he greeted once he had navigated around the secretary and into the office. "I, ah, I must thank you for seeing me on short notice."

True to reputation, the older wizard was looking colourful in a red and pink cashmere knit over his maroon slacks. One should never disappoint expectation - or else subverting them would not be so fun.

He was sure that Spectre had some inkling of why he had come to see him today. Not, perhaps, that he'd been in some way compelled[1] by the Chinese, but certainly that his Unspeakables had been meddling[2] abroad.

"I imagine a man like, hm, like yourself is booked up in advance," Yavin did not sit just yet, glancing about the room as if to get his bearings. "The world doesn't stop spinning. Why should you?"

1.	19th Feb - Flesh in the Fruit and Blood in the Wine
2.	27th July 2017 - I Can Tell That Somebody Sold You

Johann Spectre’s desk had never been the tidiest. When he had a desk in the vast open plan of the fifth floor, with the linguist team, his had near geological strata in paperwork, yes the German born wizard could always find what he needed with a minimum of searching. Now he had his own office, the desk hadn’t changed much, apart from the clutter occupied another desk behind his chair, rather than the main desk itself. As such, the Deputy Head of Department was framed by leaning piles of paper and parchment when Yavin Morgenthau stepped into the room.

Yavin was by no means a regular visitor, quite the opposite. Johann had navigated the dark tiles of Nine on more than one occasion, and had met Morgenthau’s boney office dressing in the form of skeletons. He’d joked that it must have been a long meeting for the undead or reanimated forms, on meeting them. They had already worked a little together on the sharing of research and placement of international representatives from overseas Ministries within Level Nine. Johann had been a master at the required paperwork, even if the caveats of unspeakable contracts had threatened to increase the grey hairs beginning to be spotted at his temples.

Both seniors knew how to play the Ministry games, to keep on side of the Minister while getting away with whatever they really needed. If anything, Solomon Carstairs was more of a gentleman about it than Edwin Glass had been, but that was probably because Carstairs was more about infidelity in the bedroom than causing catastrophes in the world at large.

Orr had ushered the Head Unspeakable into Johann’s office without delay. The younger wizard knew it was an unusual event for Morgenthau to grace Level Five with his presence, and would be wanting to know what it was about. Johann admired Seb’s curiosity and interest, one of the reasons he’d chosen him as his personal secretary.

“Not at all, Mr Morgenthau.” Johann was on his feet in a flash, rounding the desk to shake hands. Whereas Yavin chose bright knits for his work uniform, Johann was in a deep grey suit, the jacket of which was hung over the back of his desk chair. His white shirt had a telltale smudge of ink on the right hand cuff that he’d not noticed and scourgified.

“I imagine a man like, hm, like yourself is booked up in advance. The world doesn’t stop spinning. Why should you?” Yavin was glancing about his surroundings. Johann tried to keep his eyes on the Head Unspeakable, meanwhile, clocking the choice of outfit, the rings, and such.

“I try to keep my diary flexible,” he answered, gesturing to one of the visitor chairs before his desk. “Keeps my day interesting between the statutory requirements. Would you take a tea, coffee or something?” He knew Orr would be poised ready to do so. “Or is this a flying visit, so to speak?” The world might not stop turning, but Mysteries ran to an entirely different drum beat than the rest of the Ministry.

“All well with our international guests?” Johann asked, as he attended to the preferences of his guest and went to reclaim his own seat, “or do you need my assistance to explain they’ve overstayed their welcome?”

There weren't many wizards who could work a crowded room as well as this Spectre and yet remain so personable in a one-on-one interaction. Yavin accepted the seat, waving off the offer of drinks with a smile.

"A, ah, a flying visit!" he echoed and laughed as he adjusted his spectacles. "If only it were so simple as, hm, as guests grating on my nerves."

A pause, then. Not so much to order his thoughts - they were already lined up like little toy soldiers - but to draw his wand and cast a quieting charm.

"Apologies," Yavin murmured before disarming himself, shimmering blue light around them. "I realise you, hah, you may have your own precautions. But one can't be too careful, hm?"

The older wizard crossed a leg over his knee and interlaced his fingers. "I wanted to talk about... well, hm, the Americans call him Gorey, but I don't know how carefully your plants are listening."

In truth, it was only the one plant that Yavin knew of - and that was incidentally[1] through Virgil's reports. But it would not surprise him if the DIMC had several persons tucked into all the convenient corners of CAWW.

"I'm referring to Gregory Pratchett," he continued, corners of his eyes crinkling in a grimace. "The man they call the, um, the Weapons Czar."

1.	Silas Carstairs

“… if only it were so simple…”

“Oh?” Johann’s response layered over the American’s statement, and the following pause made Johann consider whether he was meant to fill it for Morgenthau. Whether this was some sort of guessing game exchange. He sat back and studied the other wizard thoughtfully as an extra charm was drawn around them. Good job that he hadn’t asked for drinks. Orr would have found it hard to confirm the order.

“… one can’t be too careful, hm?”

A thought crossed Johann’s mind - you’re trusting I don’t have something on my desk that records… - but while there were such items, he hadn’t awoken them from enchanted sleep.

“I wanted to talk about… Gorey…” One of Johann’s dark eyebrows slid upwards. “… the Weapons Czar.”

The DIMC whispers had identified Gregory Pratchett. A wizard who had come out of Eldritch and Profane, the equivalent to Yavin’s department in the United States, where Morgenthau had one been senior. It was an enormous department in comparison, given the country was a continent and the population five times the size of the United Kingdom at least estimate. But Pratchett himself seemed to have wriggled out of the soil and come to the surface about five years ago to be known as the Congress ‘weapons Czar’. Not an emperor of Russia pre 1917, but a person appointed by government to advise on and coordinate policy in a particular area. The Russian word had originated from the Roman emperor’s name, Caesar, and that had been a crossword clue in the Prophet a couple of months back which is why it was fresh in Johann’s head.

The photos Johann had seen of Pratchett showered a short, somewhat scruffy looking wizard with loose brown curls, thick eyebrows and a straight nose. His chosen appearance was not too distant from the stereotypical Mysteries eccentrics Johann saw in the golden lifts, carrying them down into the depths of the underground building. Someone who believed he was genius but wasn’t necessarily benevolent with his intelligence.

Silas had spoken a bit about the man. Treading that line between having a true opinion and holding one that kept him in the right circles.

“Don’t tell me he wants to visit too?” Johann asked, picking up long the same thread. “CAWW has already bought more than enough Praecantatio, vaccine, unless they’re planning to invade another country and borrow your sphere…” That thing had caused outbreaks for years, but it had given Johann the opportunity to present a speech to the International Confederation of Wizards the previous year. 



Gregory Pratchett occupied that unlikely position of being both a known and unknown factor. He would give his right hand to know exactly what hole the man crawled out of, and which figure in government placed him on the chessboard.

Or if he placed himself there.

"I, hm, I have half a mind to roll out the red carpet if the Czar graced us with a visit..." Yavin smiled dryly at the other man. "But no such luck."

It was clear to him that Johann Spectre knew more on the subject than he was letting on. Of all people, however, the Head of Mysteries can hardly complain about others holding their cards close to their chests. Five had reason than most to do so - maintaining a delicate balance underneath the concurrent complexities of no-maj foreign affairs.

He sighed as he unclasped his hands to adjust his glasses. Yavin needed to trust this man and now wasn't the time to hesitate.

"We have reason to believe that, ah, that Pratchett is heading the development of a, that is, a very special type of weapon," he began in a meandering, almost light-hearted tone. "A weapon of mass murder. With the aim of, hah, of eradicating large swathes of the muggle population without harming wixkind."

For months now, there had been no necessity to make this explicit. Everyone involved in its investigation already knew - and the Chinese Unspeakables, if they were also aware, spoke in metaphors.

Yavin cleared his throat. "Do you mind if, hm, if I smoke in here?"

Yavin got down to the point, something which Johann was thankful for. Guessing games could get tiresome with Mysteries. They always had the upper hand.

“… a weapon of mass murder…”

The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. “… eradicating large swathes of the muggle population without harming wixkind.” It sounded like a hive of bees had erupted in the room, such was the buzzing in his ears. Neurones firing at the same time, and a stampede of thoughts began circuiting beneath his skull.


Then as suddenly as it had arrived, the swarm silenced, and he blinked.

Johann stared blankly at Morgenthau, as if he was an imbecile who didn’t understand the question from the Head Unspeakable. Then the German’s brain pieced together what had been asked, and he nodded once mutely, then twice more after a pause. Balfour does, his headvoice replied, not that Johann spoke it aloud. His blue gaze was fixed somewhere just above the unspeakable’s hands as he prepared tobacco.

“Some kind of plague?” He asked, recalling that historically these had been incredibly detrimental to muggle populations, but wixes had been able to use their own healing methods to dispell the sicknesses with minimal consequences. Ethical questions had been raised at these points of history, along with participation in wars, as to whether the magical population should intervene in their less magical cousins. “Aren’t they pretty good at population control without interference?” Johann’s voice sounded a little reedy, as if he was trying to convince himself that the statement Yavin had given was just a theory.

He took his time, methodically filling a pipe and lighting a flame with his pinky to get it going.

The busy hum of Johann Spectre's thoughts somewhat unsettled him - insomuch that its abrupt silence, and mention of the other Mr. Spectre, came as a great relief to the Legilimens. What an interesting mind; he wondered if they could classify such patterns as a minor form of Occlumency. It would take a practiced wix to find what they wanted in there.

Yavin had managed a few puffs on his pipe when Johann finally spoke.

"Things getting, hm, getting out of hand. Started with that Christmas catastrophe[1] a couple of, hm, of years ago, I'm sure you recall..." he smiled dryly at the other man. "There's been a lot of, that is, a lot of support for a kill switch."

From all the way in Britain it didn't look or sound as intense, especially not in print[2] - but fear mongering was discernible nonetheless. Futurists and no-maj hysteria didn't help.

He sighed, tapping the neck of his smoking pipe thoughtfully. "Plague might, hah, might be one of the options. You see," Yavin's voice grew pained, "we think their Unspeakables here were, uh, were trying to dig into our research to supplement their development. We've been observing them this past year. Here and across the pond."

This, at least, he suspected Johann must have pieced together based on what Five's people have reported back to him.

1.	26th Dec 2016 - Christmas Day Catastrophe for CAWW
2.	3 Aug 2017 - CAWW Warns of Muggle Aggression

The temperature was dropping, or it was the conversation topic causing the hairs on the back of Johann’s neck to stand on end. He tapped his long fingers on the desk in thought, as if playing a vanished piano. International cooperation was all about checks and balances. If your neighbour was making such a horrific thing, they weren’t allowed to use it, but you could make one too. Then everyone had one and nobody would use it. It was just the threat and the fact each of you could. Then there was the fact you were ‘mates’ with a country that had it. If the Americans were making such a thing, there’d be a queue to be mates, unless the International Confederation of Wizards decided enough countries wanted to pull together to sanction them. But who was going to sanction one of the biggest countries in the world? Not an enemy you wanted. Something the G8 3/4 would want to discuss in April when it met in Edinburgh.

Johann had already realised that Morgenthau was here to compare notes, but even though they were on the same side, there were things each Department wanted to keep to itself that it knew. Nine couldn’t have all the knowledge, after all. This was trading.

“I’d heard that Cyrus Hawthorne and Gorey have been getting rather close.” Johann floated, bringing up the deputy head unspeakable across the pond and the wizard who Yavin was suggesting was leading the project to take out muggles on mass. “Didn’t you send Virgil Carstairs over to befriend him?”

Pipe smoke served as a veil between them as he nodded once at Spectre's observation. In this respect Nine had somewhat encroached on Five - spycraft wasn't strictly their territory, at least not at this scale. But Yavin didn't want other departments involved until they were more certain.

They were, now.

"You have been watching," he leaned back, arm draped across the back of his chair. "Cyrus is, ah, an old friend of mine. I supposed Virgil would be an appropriate... distraction. He, hm, he was. And he was able to confirm the involvement of another figure in connection with Gorey, a, uh, a Thomas Daylight."

The report from his protégé had been far less straightforward[1] but the long and short of it was that they had Hawthorne's number.

"Our other eyes and ears tell us that Cyrus hasn't, ah, hasn't tattled on our meddling." Yavin tapped his teeth with the pipe mouthpiece. "It's likely he might lean our way. If so it, hm, it won't be easy for him to work within the limitations of his oath. Not easy but not impossible."

Exactly what changed Cyrus' mind, he hadn't yet figured. They were trying to minimize visible contact with him for now. "On our side of things, we're trying to, ah, to root out how much of our research has been leaked by the Collins[2]. You remember, I think, the Unspeakables we lost in December?"

The traitors.

1.	19th Aug 2017 - Only Dreams in Total Darkness
2.	Lawrence and Saoirse Collins

“You have been watching.” Yavin declared, adjusting his pose. Always, Johann thought, just not always in the right direction, that’s the problem.

“I supposed Virgil would be an appropriate… distraction. He, hm, he was.” Johann had heard this too, if you called strangling the appropriate distraction. People did say that Virgil would do anything but there should always be limits. Silas Carstairs had informed and Johann had felt both shock and concern for Virgil and also some form of older-wizard frustration that he’d got into the situation in the first place. He’d not been able to say a thing to Balfour.

Johann inked the other name down in the margin of his notebook. It didn’t ring an immediate bell in his head, but there was a limit to the amount he could keep fresh up there. He’d look it up soon enough. Clearly he needed to pay more attention.

“On our side of things, we’re trying to, ah, to root out how much of our research has been leaked by the Collins.”

“Hm.” Johann agreed that he recalled the story. “Is it not best to assume leaked to be safe?” He naturally had no idea of the details that Yavin was concerned about in this case. They were secrets and if Johann knew about them, then they were common knowledge. “Are you flooding the market with false information so nobody knows what’s real and what’s not, perhaps?” This was his own curiosity speaking now.

“Is that something you need Five’s assistance on?” He turned his quill between his fingers and returned it just above his notebook, poised to take instruction.

He picked up on traces of concern and worry in Johann, incongruously directed at the young Carstairs. Yavin hadn't realised they were acquainted - though it hardly mattered. Virgil was remarkably resilient, and already working on the Collins' problem[1] through their oblivious daughter.

More interesting was Five's offer to spread falsehoods.

"You, ah, you read my mind..." he smiled appreciatively at the other wizard. "We're keeping a closer eye on our more, hm, more sensitive information and throwing out a veritable ocean of red herrings. I would appreciate further, ah, assistance."

Yavin adjusted his spectacles, a little wrinkle appearing in his brow. "Now whether leaked intel is safe, hm, is neither here nor there. We're cross referencing what we so far know they've given to the, uh, the Americans, with our observations of activity within EPA."

It was a mad puzzle, really. He would be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying himself a little, in all this.

"Hawthorne won't put all his eggs in one basket," Yavin explained, "so we're using that, uh, that data to guess at what this weapon will look like. Which divisions of EPA are involved, for one. They will test it and we need to be able to, ah, to recognise it when they do."

1.	6th Feb - You Can Never Know

“.. whether leaked intel is safe, hm, is neither here nor there…” The American wizard continued. Johann’s eyebrows twitched, realising he had been misunderstood in his phrasing, but held his need to correct Morgenthau until he had finished his points.

“Ah, no I had meant better to be safe and assume the intel has leaked. If one acts as if it has been leaked, you plan for the worst-case scenario. Though I am sure I am demonstrating to the sorcerer[1].” He bowed his head ever so slightly in deference to seniority, not wishing it to get in the way, just to clarify his standing.

“Hawthorne won’t put all his eggs in one basket,” Yavin continued with the thread of idioms. “… They will test it and we need to be able to … recognise it when they do.”

Chilling. Johann put a hand up in attempt to smooth the hairs on the back of his neck which were stood on end.

“When you say test, Mr Morgenthau, do you think we are talking laboratory rats, test candidates, unsuspecting foreign entities…?” Like any good bully, you wouldn’t test your latest punching skills on just the bag. You’d have to try it out on your enemies or the runt of the societal litter. In which case they were less likely to try it out on a political alliance, and it would be terrorism and incite an international response to test their potential weapon on an enemy. This left the neutrals, or testing it on home turf, if not just in a laboratory.

“And when will this reach the attention of the Minister and his Muggle counterpart?”

1.	Preaching to the choir, teaching grandma to suck eggs

"Ah, yes, that would be wise," he smiled at Spectre's clarification, and the little bow of his dark head.

It was easy to see how Gabrielle Pepper's deputy kept his position. To be a deputy had been one of Yavin's preferred roles for much of his professional life - especially at EPA, where a deputy might be less closely watched than the head themselves. Hawthorne clearly felt the same.

"I, hm, I believe they will test it somewhere remote on home territory..." he answered in a thoughtful voice, studying his pipe idly. "That was much the case when I was heading up Eldritch & Profane. It's, ah, easier to control factors, what gets in or out."

No doubt Flores has made her own changes to the place but she was more politician than researcher, and Yavin knew they were trying to keep a lid on the project for as long as possible.

He took a final drag off his pipe and shifted his focus back to Johann. "I intend to tell the Minister soon. It would look better if our departments are, hm, are able to corroborate our respective findings. And the Chinese[1] have agreed to share what, uh, what they know about CAWW if we can confirm Mysteries isn't acting alone."

That had been the final push for Yavin. Information was power, information could change the lay of the land. And he needed more.

1.	19th Feb - Flesh in the Fruit and Blood in the Wine

“… somewhere remote on home territory…”

Johann’s mind’s eye filled with photos of mushroom clouds, visions of how muggles had tested their weapons of great destruction at sea or in remote landscapes. Trees bent double, water rising as higher than birds. But those were designed to flatten buildings, crater the ground. Spells could do that easily enough if wielded against Muggles. To discriminate against one type of folk than the other would mean risking collateral damage in muggle-saturated areas or something less physical and more … chemical. That meant creatures or people.

His curiosity itched to ask what sorts of tests Yavin had run while head, but it was not the time. That was the sort of question one asked in the small hours of the morning over alcohol with a high percentage.

“It would look better if our departments are… able to corroborate our respective findings.” For whom? the cynical voice in Johann’s head asked, but his more logical side agreed that appearing to be on the same page would always give the impression of competence.

“… the Chinese have agreed to share… if we can confirm Mysteries isn’t acting alone.” Why break a habit?

“Alright,” Johann agreed abruptly. “Share your hymn sheet and we’ll join the church choir.” He gave a shrug of his shoulders as he did it, displaying surprising ease. Well, it wasn’t as if Five would be best pleased to discover the same intelligence (or piece what they had already together) to find Mysteries had known all along about the lethal experiments going on the other side of the pond.

He barked a single, solitary laugh at Spectre's little allegory. It was all very astute and witty - especially accompanied by the younger wizard's sharp internal narrative. Yavin liked him immensely.

Not many souls could digest what has just been told, so quickly and with intent.

"I'll have the music hand-delivered," he replied with a satisfied smile. "You, ah, you're under the same roof as Carr Rosier I believe. He'll keep you updated."

Rosier was a clever mind and skilled wand hiding under the most innocuous of personalities. He served as a very useful player in all this - training[1] Virgil, for one, and it was easy for any Space Chamber Unspeakable to make an excuse to visit[2] their NASA compatriots across the pond.

Now he might serve as a convenient go-between himself and Five.

Morgenthau rose from his seat and offered his hand to Johann. "I think we're going to, hm, going to enjoy working together Mr. Spectre."

1.	August 2016 - Grand Failing of Failings
2.	7 Sept 2017 - Never Let Anyone In