Coraline rotated the headset device slowly in her hands, scrutinizing its intricate design. The blend of familiar audiovisual technology and the baffling crystalline matrix left her more curious than ever. “There’s something about this,” she murmured, almost to herself. “I know I’ve seen something like this before—it’s right on the tip of my tongue.”
John leaned forward in his chair, elbows on the table, his gaze fixed on her. “Well, don’t keep me in suspense. Are we talking experimental tech, or is this full-on weird science?”
Coraline set the device down carefully, her fingers lingering on its surface as if hoping for inspiration. She tapped her fingers against the edge of the table in a steady rhythm, her mind racing. “It’s advanced, no doubt about that. But the design... it’s different. The use of the crystals, the way they’re arranged—it doesn’t feel entirely scientific. It’s almost like...”
“Like what?” John prompted, leaning in.
She met his eyes, the words escaping her lips before she could think better of it. “Psi-Tech, like they use in metapower suppression harnesses and suppression field generators.”
John blinked, his brows knitting together. “Wait—like the stuff they use to keep Specials in check? You think this is related?”
Coraline nodded, her expression grim. “The principles are similar. The crystals in suppression rigs are used to create disruptive fields that interfere with metapower activation. But this... this is something else. It’s not suppressing anything—I think it’s focusing something. Amplifying it.”
John sat back, his arms crossing over his chest. “And here I thought suppression harnesses were scary enough. If this is doing what you think it’s doing... we’re talking about a whole new type of psionic interface technology.”
“Exactly,” Coraline said, her voice tight. “If this is Psi-Tech, it’s leagues beyond anything currently on the market—or even in research. Whoever made this isn’t just working with known super science. They’re pushing boundaries in ways we haven’t even begun to understand.”
John gestured toward the device. “And the Rusos are messing around with it? That’s... terrifying. What could they even want with something like this?”
“That’s the question,” Coraline said, rubbing her temples as her mind raced. “This tech isn’t just expensive; it’s cutting-edge. Prototypes like this don’t just show up on the black market. Someone with serious resources had to develop it. If the Rusos are smuggling it, it’s either stolen or... they’re working with someone who knows exactly what they’re doing.”
John frowned, leaning forward again. “So what’s the plan? We can’t just sit on this.”
“We won’t be,” Coraline replied, her tone firm as she carefully placed the device into a foam-lined case and locked it shut. “But this is beyond even your expertise, John. Not to mention our workshop’s tools. Luckily, I happen to know a certified super genius with time, money, and access to research equipment better than anything short of a government black site.”
John raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly as he folded his arms. “You’re talking about Wright, aren’t you? The eccentric tech mogul with a bottomless bank account?”
Coraline nodded as she shrugged on her coat. “Exactly. He’s our best shot at figuring out what this thing actually does—and how dangerous it might be. I can catch him at Martha’s charity ball tomorrow evening. That gives me time to come up with a solid cover story for why I have it. Something legal, maybe tied to a top-secret case.”
John smirked faintly. “Wright, huh? I guess if you’re going to involve someone, a billionaire genius with a penchant for experimental tech isn’t the worst choice.”
“It’s the only choice,” Coraline said, zipping her coat. “But for now, I need a few hours of actual sleep. Between this case, the Rusos, and the charity event, I’m going to need every ounce of energy to deal with a room full of old money.”
John chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, you’re nothing if not ambitious. Just don’t let them rattle you. Those kinds of people love to prey on anyone who looks even remotely unsure of themselves.”
Coraline shot him a sly smile. “I'm a Penrose. I learned how to rub shoulders and hobnob with these people before I ever put on the mask and cape. I know how to navigate old money and yuppies, even if I’d rather not be anywhere near them.”
With that, she grabbed the foam case and slung her bag over her shoulder, her steps brisk and deliberate as she headed for the door. Determination etched every line of her posture. The stakes were high, and the puzzle in her hands needed solving before it spiraled into something worse.
Jason Wright, the genius heir of Wright Tech International, was her best shot. As the head of one of the world’s largest megacorporations and a renowned innovator, Jason had the resources and expertise she needed. If anyone could make sense of the strange hybrid tech—and the ominous implications behind its existence—it was him.
“Let’s hope he’s in a cooperative mood,” she muttered under her breath as the door closed behind her. Coraline wasn’t particularly eager to enter or rather reenter Wright’s eccentric orbit, but this wasn’t about comfort—it was about answers. And if there was one thing she knew, it was how to find the right people to solve a problem, no matter the cost.
***
Alice and Dorothy waded through Dorothy’s controlled chaos—though Alice privately thought it looked more like a war zone of tools, half-finished projects, and mismatched furniture—before plopping down on the couch. The worn cushions embraced them like an old friend as Dorothy rummaged through a box of VHS tapes.
“Labyrinth first,” Dorothy declared, holding up the tape triumphantly. “Need me some Bowie in tight pants.”
Alice smirked, snuggling into the couch. “That’s one Goblin King I wouldn’t mind kidnapping me.”
They laughed together, the sound warm and familiar, as Dorothy popped the tape into the VCR. The opening notes filled the room, and they both settled in for a night of nostalgia and fantasy.
“So,” Dorothy began, tearing open a bag of Cool Ranch Sun Chips and dumping them into a bowl, “big date tomorrow? Surprised you and Mikey boy aren’t hitting up Martha’s big charity gala. Thought that was the sort of thing you’d love.”
Alice frowned slightly, taking a chip and examining it like it held the answers to life. “I wanted to go, but Michael… he doesn’t like being around Jason when I’m there.”
Dorothy arched an eyebrow knowingly, popping a chip into her mouth. “Yeah, well, pretty sure everyone but you knew Jason’s been into you since college.”
Alice sighed, her fingers absently twisting the hem of her shirt. “It’s not like I didn’t have a crush on Jason. But back then, he had a girlfriend, and by the time they broke up, I... I just couldn’t say anything. And now there’s Michael.”
Dorothy leaned back, crossing her legs on the coffee table. “Yeah, Michael. Mr. Smooth, Mr. Perfect. And hey, he’s great. But I get why he feels weird about Jason. The guy’s a freaking enigma wrapped in genius and topped with that damn smile.”
Alice gave a weak laugh, though her frown lingered. “I just don’t like the way Michael looks at him when we’re all in the same room. Like he thinks Jason’s going to sweep in and—”
“Steal you away?” Dorothy finished. She shook her head. “Michael’s got to relax. You’re with him. Period. Jason’s a missed chance, and I say that as someone who practically waved pompoms for Team Jason back in college.”
Alice smiled faintly. “You, Martha, and Coraline. I know you all tried to make it happen. I guess we were just too dense—or too scared—to see it.”
“Eh, life happens,” Dorothy said, tossing a chip in the air and catching it in her mouth. “But for what it’s worth, if Michael’s your guy, then that’s all that matters. Forget Jason and focus on what makes you happy.”
Alice nodded, though the faint worry in her chest didn’t completely ease. “Thanks, Dorothy.”
Dorothy grinned, nudging her playfully. “What are best friends for? Now, pass me the remote. I need to see if I can pause and get a good look at the bowie bulge”
Alice smiled and shook her head, Dorothy was Dorothy and she wouldn’t have her any other way
***
Macentyre Systems, a company at the forefront of electrical and mechanical innovation, stood as a shining pillar of Canadian industry. While it wasn’t the global powerhouse of Wright International, its legacy since the late fifties had cemented its place as a respected name in technological advancement. At the pinnacle of its operations sat the Macentyre Systems building, a sleek tower that pierced the Toronto skyline. On the top floor, in a spacious office illuminated by the shimmering city lights, Malcolm Macentyre, the CEO, was seated at his imposing desk.
An older gentleman with steely grey hair, Malcolm exuded authority. His tailored black suit and chiseled jawline gave him a commanding presence, one that demanded respect from anyone who entered his office. The room itself was a reflection of his character—sleek, minimalist, and efficient, with no trace of unnecessary frills.
Malcolm glanced up from the report in his hands, his expression unreadable. “Security tells me we’re missing a prototype,” he said, his voice low but firm. “I want this contained. No leaks. The last thing we need is rumors spreading and scaring off investors.”
Across from him, Michael Macentyre stood with his hands clasped behind his back. If Malcolm was the embodiment of authority, Michael was the image of effortless charisma. Tall and broad-shouldered, with neatly styled dark hair and sharp eyes that mirrored his father’s intensity, he cut a striking figure in his perfectly tailored suit.
“Dad, don’t you think we should involve the police?” Michael asked, his tone measured but carrying a hint of concern. “If someone’s stolen one of our prototypes, this could escalate beyond corporate damage control.”
Malcolm set the report down and leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he regarded his son. “And what do you think the police would do, Michael? Launch a public investigation? Start asking questions we don’t want answered? No.” His voice grew colder. “This stays internal. Our investors trust us because we keep our house in order. Bringing in outside authorities would only make them question that trust.”
Michael hesitated, his brow furrowing. “I understand the optics, but if this gets out and we haven’t taken the right steps—”
“It won’t get out,” Malcolm interrupted sharply. He stood, his imposing frame casting a long shadow across the desk. “You’re thinking like an idealist, not a businessman. We don’t air our dirty laundry, no matter how small the stain.”
Michael nodded slowly, though his jaw tightened. “Understood.”
Malcolm’s expression softened slightly, though his tone remained firm. “Good. You’ll oversee the team handling this. Find out how the prototype went missing, where it is, and who’s behind it. I want results, Michael. Swift and decisive.”
“Yes, sir,” Michael replied, turning to leave. As he reached the door, Malcolm called after him.
“And, Michael,” his father said, his tone almost paternal now, “this company is your legacy as much as it is mine. Protect it.”
Michael paused, glancing back with a small smile. “I will.”
As the door clicked shut behind him, Malcolm stood in the dim light of his office, staring out at the glittering city below. His reflection in the glass seemed darker, more severe than the man himself.
Malcolm was a man willing to do whatever it took to protect the empire he’d built—willing to make decisions that blurred the line between right and wrong.
Michael leaned against the elevator wall, thumbing through the drunk texts with a bemused smirk. Alice’s messages were a mix of affectionate rambling and playful teasing, with just enough suggestiveness to make him chuckle.
AliceINWonderland990:
- Hey prince charming, guess who’s thinking about you right now? ;)
- Dorothy says I’m being silly, but you’re handsome, so who cares, right?
- Miss youuuuu. Wish you were here. We could...you know...cuddle. <3
- Okay, fine. Not just cuddle. :P But you have to bring fries. Or no dice.
Michael shook his head, his smirk fading as the elevator dinged. He stepped out into the hall, flipping open his phone to call her. After a few rings, the line picked up, and Alice’s unmistakable voice greeted him, slurred but cheerful.
“Hey there, my handsome prince,” she purred, her tone warm and tipsy.
Michael exhaled quietly, already imagining her curled up on Dorothy’s couch with a drink in one hand and her phone in the other. “Alice, are you hanging out with Dorothy tonight?”
“Yes,” she admitted, dragging out the word. “We’re watching movies and we made cosmos! I’ve only had...a few...and I was thinking about you.”
Michael bit back a sigh, though his tone remained gentle. “I see. Sounds like you’re having a good time.”
“I am!” Alice replied enthusiastically. “But it’d be better if you were here. We could...hang out. Or, you know...”
Her giggle was enough to confirm her meaning, and Michael couldn’t help but smile despite himself. “I wish I could, sweetheart, but I’m swamped with work tonight. Something important came up at the office.”
Alice’s voice dipped, a touch of disappointment slipping through. “Oh. That’s okay, I guess. You’re busy a lot lately.”
“I know,” he said softly, glancing at his watch. “But I promise I’ll make it up to you. We have that date tomorrow night? Just the two of us.”
“Hmm, fine,” Alice said with mock reluctance, though her tone was laced with affection. “But you owe me cuddles and fries. And maybe dessert.”
Michael chuckled. “Deal. Now, be good and don’t let Dorothy talk you into anything crazy, all right?”
“She’s not that bad,” Alice protested weakly, though even she didn’t sound entirely convinced.
Michael’s smile tightened. “Of course not. Get some rest, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon.”
“Okay,” she replied, her voice softening. “Goodnight, prince charming.”
“Goodnight, Alice.”
He ended the call, slipping his phone back into his pocket as he stepped into his office. His expression grew more serious as he sat at his desk. Michael’s hand hovered over the report on his desk, his eyes narrowing. He intended to keep what was going on under control—and that included ensuring Alice stayed blissfully unaware of any problems regarding her brainchild.
***
“I told you he wasn’t gonna come, now stop texting him and have another drink,” Dorothy implored as she filled Alice’s glass with the pink cocktail that was her ambrosia.
“Fine! I will drink some more, but only because you asked nicely,” Alice giggled, tipping the glass and downing more of her Cosmopolitan with glee. “Michael is real good at cuddling, is all.”
Dorothy, who was by and large less of a lightweight than Alice and still mostly sober, rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I’m sure he is, but tonight is girls’ night with you and me. If you keep texting him for booty calls, I’m taking away your phone!”
Dorothy snatched Alice’s phone off the couch with exaggerated speed, holding it just out of reach as Alice protested with a dramatic pout.
“You wouldn’t dare!” Alice said, pointing a wobbly finger at her friend.
“Oh, I absolutely would,” Dorothy replied with a smirk, dropping the phone into her pocket for safekeeping. “You’re lucky I let you get away with the first five texts. This is our’ night, remember? Not Alice-sends-her-boyfriend-drunk-horny-messages night.”
Alice crossed her arms, still holding her cocktail glass. “They weren’t horny. They were romantic!”
“Sweetheart, you literally asked him for cuddles and fries,” Dorothy teased, sipping her own drink.
“And what’s wrong with that?” Alice quipped back, giggling as she took another sip of her cocktail. “Cuddles and fries are the cornerstone of a healthy relationship.”
Dorothy laughed, shaking her head as she grabbed the remote and hit play on the next movie in their marathon. “Fair enough. But tonight, your relationship is with me, these cosmos, and the next fantasy movie boy toy to fawn over. So, no more texting Prince Charming.”
Alice leaned back into the couch with a huff, her lips twitching in a reluctant smile. “Fine, fine. But if I get cold, you’re obligated to provide the cuddles.”
Dorothy raised an eyebrow. “Deal, but I draw the line at buying fries. You’ll have to make do with chips.”
“Don’t worry, fries are just code words for...” Alice started to say.
“Too much information!” Dorothy abruptly cut her off before she could continue.
The two dissolved into laughter, the movie forgotten for the moment as they fell into the easy rhythm of their friendship. It wasn’t the most glamorous night, but for Alice, it was perfect—Dorothy’s dry humor and steady presence always had a way of keeping her grounded, even when cosmos threatened to tip her over the edge.
The movie played on as the pair relaxed into the couch, the colorful world of fantasy washing over them while the last vestiges of Alice's tipsy texting faded into the background.
Alice rested her head against a throw pillow, her giggles softening into a content sigh. “You know, I don’t give you enough credit, Dorothy. You’re pretty good at keeping me in check.”
“Damn right,” Dorothy replied, her tone teasing. “Someone has to keep your chaos under control. Can’t let Michael do all the heavy lifting, can we?”
Alice scrunched her nose, her cheeks pink from the combination of alcohol and Dorothy’s ribbing. “He doesn’t keep me in check! He’s my handsome Prince Charming, absolutely perfect in every way.”
Dorothy gave her a sidelong glance, one eyebrow arching with skepticism. “Huh? The way he has you wrapped around his little finger sounds like he keeps you on a leash.”
Alice sat up straighter, her pout turning defensive. “That’s not fair! Michael’s just protective, that’s all.”
Dorothy sighed, her teasing tone softening. “Protective is fine, I guess. And I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be so snarky.” She paused, her gaze shifting away for a moment. “But you know I don’t like him. I can’t help it. I get the feeling he doesn’t like me either—or my, shall we say, rural upbringing.”
Alice blinked, surprised by the admission. She set her glass down and tilted her head. “Dorothy, that’s not true. Michael doesn’t dislike you. He’s just...reserved. And you’re...well, not.”
Dorothy snorted softly, shaking her head. “Yeah, reserved. That’s one way of putting it. Look, I don’t mean to rain on your fairy tale, okay? I just...” She trailed off, then glanced back at Alice with a faint smile. “I’m just being protective of you myself, you are my best friend and Micheal, as great as he is, something about him just makes me feel off.”
Alice’s cheeks flushed for a different reason this time, and she sank back into the couch. “You’re such a sap, but at least you’re my sap princess Ozma.”
Dorothy grinned, some of her usual teasing returning. “Only for you, Little Miss Alice Liddal. Now, let’s get back to our movies and copious amounts of magical pink potions”
Alice couldn’t help but laugh, the tension between them dissipating. “All right, all right twist my rubber arm why don’t you.”
The two friends settled back into the couch, the glow of the TV casting soft light over their faces as they lost themselves in the movie magic. For now, the worries and complexities of the real world could wait.
