Chapter 619

It didn’t take Evenson long to reach the scene.

He spotted the first wreck before the Jeep had even arrived. A black SUV had been smashed to pieces beside the road, apparently one of the convoy’s escort vehicles. It was upside down, or rather, three wheels up. The fourth had torn completely free when it hit the ground.

A second escort vehicle had met the same fate farther down the road. It had been thrown across the median and landed in the opposing lanes, crumpled nearly beyond recognition.

The cargo truck had suffered the worst.

It lay on its side, the asphalt beneath it fractured from the impact. Judging by the damage, it had probably been dropped from the air too.

But the truck itself wasn’t what interested Evenson most.

The cargo compartment had been ripped wide open. Boxes of shoes, which had been packed into the trailer as cover for the actual shipment, were scattered across the highway.

At the very back of the trailer was a hidden compartment. The door bore SHIELD’s eagle emblem.

Someone had cut straight through it.

Inside was a single seat with a crossed restraint harness. Whoever had been sitting there was supposed to be the convoy’s real cargo.

They were gone.

Coulson approached as Evenson carefully examined the wreckage.

"Well? See anything?"

"Inside job."

Evenson pointed toward the mangled trailer.

"The damage looks like it came from an excavator. Something that big and slow can’t exactly sneak up on a convoy. It would have had to be waiting here before the attack."

He stepped out of the wrecked trailer.

By now it was fully dark, and the agents had erected portable floodlights around the site. The glare made him squint.

"And this was a covert transport operation. The route would have been restricted information. Yet the attackers somehow knew exactly where we’d be and what we were carrying. They were waiting in advance, hit the convoy, and took the cargo in one clean operation."

Evenson spread his hands.

"Unless they can see the future or read the stars and somehow know everything that’s going to happen, somebody leaked the route and the details of the shipment."

He nodded to himself, satisfied.

"So, yes. Inside job."

In Evenson’s experience, if SHIELD suffered a disaster, there was an insider somewhere to blame.

And if SHIELD succeeded at something?

Well, obviously the insider wanted that too.

Coulson followed him with the expression of a man who wasn’t entirely convinced but had to admit the basic logic wasn’t terrible.

Then Evenson’s gaze landed on one of the survivors.

A heavyset man in a plaid shirt and jeans sat nearby with a bloodstained bandage wrapped around his head. His face was bruised and swollen.

He was a disguised SHIELD agent.

He was also the truck driver.

"Well, if we’ve established there was an inside man, finding him should be easy."

Evenson strode over, grabbed the man’s collar, and hauled him upright.

"So, tell me. Why’d you sell out SHIELD? How much did they pay you?"

The driver’s eyes went wide.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

He wiped spit from his face.

"When did I betray SHIELD?"

Then he looked around wildly.

"Can somebody tell me who this idiot is? Who the hell is this guy?"

"Hmph."

Evenson dropped him and immediately took out a handkerchief, wiping his hand as though he’d just touched something unpleasant.

"Who I am doesn’t matter. What matters is that your identity has been exposed."

The driver stared at him.

Then he turned away.

"Right. I’m not talking to this lunatic."

Coulson walked over and put a hand on Evenson’s shoulder.

"Evenson... did you get something wrong? What makes you think Mack is the mole?"

"Moles are easy to identify."

Evenson smiled confidently.

"This was a secret operation. Only a limited number of people knew the route. The mole obviously wouldn’t get caught in a trap he already knew about."

He pointed at Mack.

"And yet this guy is still alive."

Evenson nodded.

"That means he’s the mole."

Coulson scratched his head.

"You really need to watch fewer detective shows."

Evenson blinked.

"In fact, every SHIELD agent in the convoy survived."

"What?"

Evenson turned so quickly that his neck almost popped.

His face began heating up.

"And another thing," Coulson added, glancing toward Mack. "Mack was actually the most seriously injured person in the convoy."

Evenson’s eyes suddenly lit up.

"Then it’s even more obvious."

Coulson’s expression darkened.

"No."

"The mole could have deliberately suffered a severe injury," Evenson explained. "That way he’d gain everyone’s sympathy and make himself less likely to be suspected."

Mack had finally heard enough.

He shoved away the medic who had been treating him and stood up.

"I got hurt worse because those two SUVs had better safety systems than my truck! Thirty-six airbags, reinforced cabins, the whole works. I was driving a damn cargo truck!"

He pointed at himself.

"And there was another factor."

He looked down at his enormous belly.

"My vehicle had more mass."

Evenson’s gaze followed his finger.

He looked at Mack.

Then at the belly.

Then back at Mack.

"Yeah."

He nodded solemnly.

"I can see that."

Mack’s face twitched.

Evenson suddenly raised a finger.

"But that’s another suspicious detail!"

Coulson flinched.

Here we go again.

"Everyone else here has a normal build," Evenson declared. "But you’re the only one carrying all that extra weight. Clearly you’ve been enjoying the benefits of someone’s hush money."

Mack’s forehead started throbbing.

"You say that again!"

He jabbed a finger toward Evenson.

"I’ll sue you for discrimination and take you for everything you’ve got!"

Then he rounded on Coulson.

"And I’m not this size because I wanted to be! Coulson, you agree with him? Do you seriously blame me for being fat?"

Coulson stared at him.

Who else would you blame? Me?

Mack’s anger boiled over.

"When I joined SHIELD, I was in great shape! Six-pack, abs, the whole package!"

He thumped his chest.

"I was young, ambitious, and ready to protect the world! I thought I was signing up for something important."

His expression became increasingly bitter.

"Then they stuck me in transportation."

He held up both hands.

"Ten years. Ten damn years driving trucks. I spend most of my life sitting behind a steering wheel. I don’t even have a girlfriend!"

He pointed angrily at his own stomach.

"And two out of three meals are garbage because I’m constantly on the road!"

Mack spread his arms.

"And somehow I made it ten years without hypertension or heart disease. I’m just a little heavier!"

He looked around indignantly.

"That’s a miracle, not evidence of corruption!"

"Sorry. Sorry."

Coulson raised both hands, trying to calm him down.

"This is all a misunderstanding. Let’s just forget it."

He paused.

"And honestly, even if he sued you into the ground, I doubt you’d have enough money to compensate him for much."

Coulson guided Evenson away from the others.

Once they were out of earshot, he turned on him.

"People with good judgment know not to give confident opinions in fields they don’t understand."

He jabbed a finger toward Evenson.

"You did exactly the opposite."

Coulson took a long breath, one hand pressed against his chest.

Working with Evenson more than once or twice was beginning to feel like a fast track to cardiovascular disease.

"I brought you here to determine whether there’s anything strange about this incident. Leave the investigation to people who actually do this for a living."

He sighed.

"I’ll admit your initial conclusion about an insider is reasonable. But everything you came up with afterward was complete nonsense."

"Fine."

Evenson reluctantly nodded.

Coulson walked away.

Only then did Evenson bring forward the hand he’d kept behind his back.

Resting in his palm was a small metal ring, roughly the size of his thumb.

At its center floated a bead of silvery mercury-colored liquid.

"Hm."

Evenson slipped the device into his bag.

"Nonsense isn’t always useless. At the very least, it kept everyone looking in the wrong direction."

Before he could say anything else, a voice came from farther down the road.

"Guys, look what I found!"

Simmons stood beside another section of wreckage, holding something between a pair of tweezers.

It was another ring.

Identical to the one Evenson had just pocketed.

Apparently, the attackers hadn’t relied on a single device.

"Interesting."

Simmons was visibly excited.

She had barely begun her initial examination when Evenson raised one hand.

The device flew straight toward him.

It cut through the air hard enough to kick up dust and loose gravel along the roadside, drawing the attention of everyone nearby.

Evenson caught it and stared at it with carefully exaggerated surprise.

"Well, now. This is interesting."

This time, however, the reaction was genuine.

He had secretly taken the first device because he’d noticed that it was unusual and might possess some kind of special function. He’d deliberately distracted everyone with his ridiculous accusations so no one would notice him pocketing it.

But he hadn’t yet had time to determine what the device actually did.

Now he had his answer.

When his magic pulled the second device toward him, the thing seemed to react.

The surrounding gravity changed.

Dust and gravel rose from the ground and spiraled toward the ring.

The effect continued until Evenson closed his hand around it and cut off the magical force pulling it toward him. At once, the debris dropped back to the ground.

Evenson’s interest sharpened.

He tossed the ring into the air.

With a gesture, he held it suspended above his palm.

Once again, the gravel on the ground began to rise.

But this time it didn’t scatter chaotically.

The loose stones and dust compressed into a dense sphere around the device.

Evenson slowly rotated one finger.

The sphere rotated with it, circling through the air around the ring like a miniature planet in orbit.

Then he leveled his hand.

The sphere suddenly lost its support and fell.

The compacted debris broke apart as it hit the ground, leaving only the ring in Evenson’s hand.

Coulson stared at the display.

"So... is that a magical device?"

"Yes."

Evenson looked down at the ring.

"Also no."

Coulson frowned.

"That isn’t an answer."

She clearly wanted something more definite.

"Then what is it?"

"It qualifies as a magical device because there are certain spells that can make use of this kind of material."

Evenson examined the strange substance at its center.

Now that he’d seen how it behaved, he remembered it.

His spellbook had described something similar.

"There are spells capable of altering the gravitational field of a specific location."

He raised the ring slightly.

"For example, take a world or celestial body with weak gravity. With the right spell, you could alter the local field so that its surface has Earth-like gravity, making it considerably easier for people to live and work there."

"That spell isn’t simple."

He shook his head.

"It requires a tremendous amount of preparation. Massive magic circles. Huge amounts of mana. Sometimes even blood sacrifices."

His eyes narrowed.

"But if you have a substance like this available during the ritual, the process becomes dramatically easier."

Coulson looked at him.

"That sounds exactly like a magical device. So why isn’t it?"

"Because it’s more than a spell component."

Evenson touched the ring with one finger.

The gravel around them trembled.

This time, however, it didn’t rise.

"To establish an artificial gravitational field, you normally have to fight against the gravitational pull of an entire planet. That requires an enormous amount of magical power."

He held up the ring.

"But this substance naturally interferes with gravity."

"So instead of using raw magical power to overpower a planet’s gravitational field, you stimulate this material and let it do the heavy lifting."

He smiled faintly.

"The process becomes more delicate, but the amount of mana required drops dramatically."

Coulson’s eyes narrowed.

"Then only magic can activate it?"

"No."

Evenson shook his head.

"That’s the interesting part."

He gestured toward the device.

"Mana isn’t the only thing capable of stimulating it. Other forms of energy work too."

He glanced at Coulson.

"Even science."

"All you need is the right amount of force applied in the right direction, and this material can be used to alter the surrounding gravitational field."

"So, during a spell, it’s certainly useful as a magical medium."

Evenson turned the ring between his fingers.

"But it isn’t limited to magic."

He smiled.

"That’s why I say it both is and isn’t a magical device."

A stunned voice came from nearby.

"Wait. You can change the gravitational field of a location? Even the Moon?"

Skye had been standing nearby throughout the demonstration.

Now she stared at the ring with open fascination.

"That’s incredible."

She shook her head.

"Magic really is convenient. I’m starting to think science is ridiculously primitive."

"Skye."

Evenson turned toward her with a smile.

He greeted her far more warmly than necessary.

Considering he’d essentially sold her for twenty thousand dollars, a little extra friendliness seemed appropriate.

"How’s the new life treating you? Settling into SHIELD?"

"The new life is wonderful."

Skye forced a smile and held up two fingers.

"Absolutely wonderful."

She gave them a little twist.

"Endless combat training. Endless physical conditioning. And now they’re going to teach me how to use firearms."

"That sounds great."

Evenson nodded.

Then he looked toward Ward.

"How’s she doing?"

Ward didn’t bother sparing Skye’s feelings.

"In physical training? She’s a disaster."

He gestured toward her.

"When she does pull-ups, she hangs from the bar like a dead fish."

Skye’s face darkened.

Ward wasn’t finished.

"And her hand-to-hand training..."

He clicked his tongue.

"If I had to give her fighting style a name, I’d call it Cute Girl Punching."

Skye’s cheeks puffed up.

She was a technical specialist, not a commando. She had already been generous enough to let this broad-shouldered brute drag her through endless physical and combat drills.

And now he was insulting her on top of it?

"She’s new."

Evenson stepped in before the argument could escalate.

"Give her some time."

Skye immediately looked relieved.

At last, someone had said something sensible.

Then Evenson continued.

"Double her training load."

Her relief vanished.

"And add penalties. No meeting the required standard? Take away her phone."

Skye’s expression froze.

"Her performance will probably improve dramatically."

The temptation to bite Evenson became genuinely difficult to resist.

She couldn’t believe she’d ever expected him to defend her.

"Skye."

Evenson turned back to her.

"You really think magic is superior to science?"

"Isn’t it?"

Skye crossed her arms.

"There are plenty of things science can’t easily do that magic can. Changing the gravitational field of an entire location, for example."

"Hm."

Evenson smiled.

"I once told Coulson that science and magic are both expressions of truth. Neither is inherently superior."

He held up one finger.

"Think of the world as a lever."

"You search for the right fulcrum, apply force, and the world moves."

He gestured toward the ring.

"The difference is that magic users have already found some very efficient fulcrums. That’s why we can produce major changes with comparatively little force."

He shrugged.

"Science, on the other hand, is still searching for where those fulcrums are."

Skye gave him a sideways look.

"That sounds an awful lot like admitting magic is stronger than technology."

"Not at all."

Evenson shook his head.

"Truth isn’t weaker or stronger. It isn’t better or worse. Truth itself doesn’t make mistakes."

"People do."

He looked at her seriously.

"It’s not that science is inferior. It’s that humanity hasn’t been walking the scientific road for very long."

Evenson thought about Azeroth.

How old was its magical tradition?

The Legion’s first invasion had occurred ten thousand years ago, and even then the world’s magical systems were already highly developed. The ancient night elf empire had existed long before that.

And that didn’t even account for the troll civilizations and their voodoo magic.

By even a conservative estimate, Azeroth’s magical traditions had been developing for tens of thousands of years.

Warlock magic was older still.

Compared to that, modern science had existed for only a few centuries.

Three or four hundred years, perhaps.

That was barely the beginning.

Humanity had accomplished an astonishing amount in such a short span.

So when people looked at magic and technology side by side, it was easy to conclude that science was crude by comparison.

But that wasn’t because science was weak.

Humanity simply hadn’t had enough time to discover what science could truly do.