It’s been almost five years since the awakening of magic – an exact, unforgiving science that is completely misunderstood by the entire world. The brightest minds of our times have gathered together after Detroit disappeared in a flash of light. They’re there to observe, test, and squabble over competing hypotheses. Unfortunately, it wasn’t long until reports of smaller “anomalies” began to work their way through the news cycle and into the imaginations of a dumbfounded world.
Druids, Wiccans, and Mystics held center stage for the first time in almost two thousand years, each claiming that the anomalies were the return of the Old Ways. Or a resurgence of ley lines. Or – well, there was a lot of that going on back then. Of course, they all insisted that by being in tune with nature and the mystic energies one could harness the power of magic for their own purposes.
It wasn’t until a breakthrough in detecting mana, the essence of magic, at the Detroit research site that we came to accept that magic was real, somewhat observable, and here for the foreseeable future.
Once the world accepted these truths, think tanks filled with braniacs, entrepeneurs, spiritual gurus, and charlatans banded together of their own accord. Each group hoping and striving to find the next big breakthrough, to harness the power of magic for their own desires. The world busied itself with understanding this new reality – a reality where mana could be used for magnificent and terrifying things. But no one knew exactly how to do it. And they still don’t.
One of the most unfortunate, but rather comical, outcomes was some company from Eastern Europe. I don’t remember which country, but they wanted to use magic to fly, and commercialize it somehow. Flight lessons, maybe? Anyways, their CEO is now a talking albatross. Magic rarely goes as planned, if it goes at all.
The biggest breakthrough after the initial discovery of mana came from some wiz-bang (see what I did there?) professor on the East Coast. He was able to measure and track changes in the transfers of mana. And then find the origin for a particular anomaly, at least for major events. There’s some trickey science to it that my cousin mentioned. Something about how you can’t directly observe mana, but you can observe where mana has been. I’m not too clear on the details, the police academy was about the highest level of formal education I ever got.
Anyways, after months of rigorous vetting by the scientific committee, the professor’s method of tracking mana was accepted and lauded as the first major break through in our understanding of magic. Oh, and they also used that method to find that a high school drop out in Dallas was responsible for the Detroit “anomaly”. Apparently, the investigation dug up his internet traffic and found he was playing online games at the time. So there’s a big legal battle as to whether the act was intentional or not. And about million other things. Magic certainly doesn’t have many precedents in court cases.
My first run in with magic came when I was chasing a pick pocket out at Navy Pier on St. Patrick’s Day. The kid had legs, I’ll give him that. Lead me on one helluva chase. Started to make some ground on me as we passed under the 41 bridge on East Illinois. The drunk-as-all-get-out tourists with their faces burried in their cell phones as they stumbled in the general direction of the the pier didn’t make my job any easier. I’d already run about half a mile – which is about half a mile more than I’m used to – when my legs really started to burn. I knew I’d have to try and close the rest of the distance with one last burst of energy. Maybe I’d get lucky, and he’d run into someone.
Only I didn’t get lucky. I heard a popping sound and tumbled to the ground. I wasn’t ready for the fall, and I caught the sidewalk with an elbow and then my face. I don’t remember much after that, but when I woke up lying on a hospital bed, the doctors told me I’d broken my arm and there were two large holes in my legs where the knee caps used to be. After some tinkering with a new piece of tech the precinct got for detecting changes in mana based on that professor’s research, my co-workers confirmed that I had tapped deep into the mystic arts – and blew out my knee caps. Everyone thought it was pretty funny. Except me.
Over the following month, I managed to channel the mystic arts two more times. First, I walked for two whole minutes a day after the surgery without assistance. Which may not seem like a big deal, but it should have wreaked havoc on my legs. The doctors wanted my coworkers to bring in the mag scanner back – and sure enough, the miracle was confirmed as a work of science that we do not yet understand.
Second time was when my nephew was visiting from out of town. We were out playing a game of horse, and he managed to sink a really nice shot from the three point line. I’ve never been much of a basketball player, but I gave it my best shot. Unfortunately, my little jump shot ended up launching me six feet forward, tumbling across the court, and into the goal post.
The ball went in, though. My nephew doesn’t agree, but I’m sure that it did. Whatever the case, I didn’t think it was necessary to ask the boys to bring a mag scanner over to check. I was already itching to get back to work, and had a long road ahead of me before I could clear my physical.
Fast forward three months of learning to walk again, kicking the pain pills after a bit too long, a healthy consumption of Hendrix, and here I am, on the eve of my first day back at the precinct. My best friend Tommy says the chief already chose to assign me to the Navy Pier beat tomorrow. Crusty old man has an odd sense of humor. Come to think of it, so does Tommy.