Of course our government babysitters wanted magical guns and ammo. But why try to delay our most helpful projects, things that could benefit the whole world? “Were those delays coming from any particular person or office?”

“I can’t give you a statistically conclusive answer to that one yet, Boss. Correlation isn’t causation, and some of my scoring was subjective.”

All the hoops NIH had made us jump through, all of their delays before they’d allow us to heal Lex and a handful of others. I thought back to my conversation with Nicola and Representative Vaughn at the pizzeria in D.C. “It’s about PR.”

“Say what?”

“Public relations. Someone’s shooting down the work that would make people more sympathetic and supportive of New Millennium, and of magic in general.” I couldn’t help remembering how quickly Senator Keeler had capitalized on the attacks, gathering support for harsher legislation against magic and inhumans. The man certainly understood the importance of PR and how to manipulate it.

“I’m not seeing anything coming directly from Dr. Palmer or her team, though. She pretty much stays out of our business, except when there are potential security implications.”

“Thanks, Vince. How certain are you that this isn’t coincidence or random chance?”

“Looking at the numbers, there’s less than a one percent chance of it being normal statistical noise.”

“All right. Try to dig deeper into who did or didn’t sign off on every project for the past six months. Don’t stop with the name on the reports. Check who they report to, all the way up the chain of command.”

Vince’s melodramatic groan filled my head. “Great. Because the only thing more exciting than spreadsheets and statistical analysis is org charts.”

“If you need a break, you might want to double-check your security cameras down in the kennels. I’m told Kerling snuck out again.”

“Dammit! I’m going to superglue a tracking chip to that crow’s head!”

I hung up and tilted the mirror in my hand until I spotted Kerling perched behind me. “What do you think?”

Kerling scratched under her wing with her beak.

“How did you get in here through a locked door, anyway?”

She cawed softly, partially spreading her wings.

“Right.” I set the mirror on the table. In addition to using the Gateway Project for long-range assassinations, there were potential privacy concerns as well. You could create a small portal and use it as a virtual peephole, or eavesdrop on conversations half a world away.

I considered trying to open a portal into Babs’ office, but I wouldn’t be able to get a fix on her as long as she wore that magic-damping pearl.