“Tonight could send everything we’ve been working toward for the past year straight to hell,” I said. Whatever Gutenberg’s flaws, and there had been plenty, at least when he’d been running things, I hadn’t spent all my time jumping through red tape and worrying about political bullshit. “New Millennium was supposed to show the world what magic could do. Instead, the government is pissed because we won’t make them weapons, and the rest of the world is freaked out because they think we’re making weapons. Do you realize we could have had a working space elevator two months ago?”

Sometimes I wondered if libriomancers like Weronika Bulat had the right idea. Weronika was one of more than twenty people who’d quit the Porters and gone rogue. She spent her time traveling from hospital to hospital in Poland and healing the most critical patients. She was saving lives, and many considered her a national hero. At the same time, the ease with which she evaded hospital security only fed fears of what we could do.

The song on the radio came to an end. None of us spoke as a somber DJ announced that Governor Sullivan and Attorney General Duncan had been murdered by werewolves. He went on to remind listeners that Lansing, East Lansing, and surrounding suburbs were under curfew. “We’re getting reports that a group of Michigan State students have gathered in an impromptu protest demanding stronger regulation of magic. They’ve rallied near the site of the campus library, which was destroyed several years ago in what’s now understood to be an internal Porter conflict. Another group is counterprotesting across the street. Campus police are threatening to deploy tear gas to forestall a riot.”

I thought about Callie, the pizza delivery girl who’d gotten us to Lansing, and wondered if she was part of the counterprotest. “We’re not the ones who demolished the library.”

“They’re not protesting because of the library,” said Nidhi. “They’re protesting because they’re angry and afraid.”

“They’re not the only ones.” There had to be a better way, one that didn’t lead to fear and violence and war. But damn if I could find it.

Detroit Salt Mine

From Michipedia, the free encyclopedia of Michigan facts and history

Note: This article may not meet Michipedia standards for neutrality. Please see the Discussion Page for further information.

The Detroit Salt Mine was established in 1910 beneath the city of Detroit, Michigan. The mine soon produced 8000 tons of rock salt each month from the salt beds more than 1000 feet below the surface.

The mine was believed to cover approximately 1500 acres underground. Customers included leather tanneries and food suppliers. Today, the Detroit Salt Mine primarily sells rock salt for deicing roads.