Things Done

I waited restlessly for some sort of update on the djinn thing for the rest of the week, but days soon turned into weeks, and weeks soon became months. I had almost completely forgotten about the bizarre meeting, so imagine my surprise when I was rudely reminded of it two months later.

“Hey, Gwen, you never told me you had a boyfriend,” my roommate said as she came back into the room. I could hear the smirk in her voice.

“That’s because I don’t,” I replied, typing away at my laptop. This was a rare rest day for me, a time when I didn’t have any reports or projects to do for my teachers, so I didn’t bother to look up to answer her. The random quizzes I was taking were much more interesting.

“Really, Gwen? It’s not nice to lie, especially right in front of him.” Sadie seemed a bit put-out, but I was only half-listening to her words. I was engrossed in figuring out which type of toothbrush I was.

“I’m not lying,” I mumbled, only catching the first part of what she said. What was my favorite color? Indigo? Maroon?

“I didn’t peg you to be such a liar,” Sadie continued. I heard the sound of her plopping onto her bed on the other side of the room, but it barely registered in my mind.

“I’m not a liar,” I weakly protested to the figure that I could sense standing in front of me. “Why would I have a boyfriend?” And why didn’t I read the third question better? It asked for my favorite cake, not my favorite pie.

“Why, indeed,” was the response. I dimly realized the voice was deeper, but had to answer a few more questions before it really got to me. When it did, I froze and stayed silent for even longer.

“Well,” I said simply, before slowly lowering the laptop to peek above the screen. Edgarton stood there, as I suspected. He smiled back at me and waited patiently as I shut off my laptop and grabbed my coat.

“Have fun, lovebirds,” my roommate called out as we were leaving. I grumbled an answer.

“Why did you come here?” I grumbled as soon as I closed the door behind me. We made our way down the corridor.

“Why wouldn’t I come to visit you?” he replied. When I turned to glare I noticed that he was silently laughing.

“State your business,” I ordered, pushing open the door to the outside. “If you have no reason to be here, go. I don’t need to be mixed up with a criminal.”

“Criminal,” he repeated softly, adding an inquisitive tone to the word. Something struck me as funny.

“Wait,” I said haltingly, slowing down. He quickly matched my pace. “How come she didn’t know who you were? You were all over the news just two years ago. I doubt anyone could forget so easily.”

“Perhaps she’s not one for the media,” he shrugged. My glare intensified.

“My roommate is double majoring in law and political science. Current events are her forte,” I deadpanned. I was reluctant to tell him Sadie’s name.

“Ah,” he responded. He would have stayed quiet for the rest of the walk if I didn’t speak up again.

“Aren’t you going to explain?” I nagged. By now we were nearing the university’s back gates and I was dropping back to let him take the lead. I had decided to not ask him where we were going because it was a hassle to even squeeze one answer out of him. I wasn’t up to forcing another.

“You must enjoy posing inquiries,” he told me, holding the gate open for me and dodging my questions for the umpteenth time. “It really is exhausting to deal with you.”

“Can you be straightforward for once in your life?” I pleaded, looking earnestly at him. He only looked amused.

“I suppose. Your roommate, Sadie—” He gave me a knowing smile as my face fell “—wouldn’t know about me because my case doesn’t exist. It may have been two years ago, but it’s been erased from all memories, save your own and our companions’. Because you’re djinn, and the select few whose memories I’ve chosen to spare.”

“Djinn this, djinn that. You keep talking about that, but what is it really all about? Are you one, too? How else would you know so much about it?” We encountered a woman walking her dog. She slowed down to stare at Edgarton’s face but he didn’t seem to notice, even as she crossed the street to get a better look at him. Don’t misunderstand—she wasn’t looking so intently because she recognized him.

“You really do ask a lot of questions,” he replied as he effortlessly ignored her advances. He was forced to pay attention when her dog, perhaps female, walked circles around him and wrapped the leash tightly.

“That’s too bad,” The owner declared, but it was revealed as a pretense for conversation as soon as I saw the wide grin on her face. “Please, stay still while I untangle you. I’m really sorry about this,” she lied, taking the opportunity to touch his chest during her phony apology. She spent most of the time she was supposed to use unraveling the cord clinging to his leg like a creeper.

“Oh, take your time,” I muttered sarcastically, tapping my foot. Every second she wasted with her malingering could have been better spent by his finally answering my question. The woman herself didn’t seem to hear, lost as she was in her dreary reverie. I shifted my annoyed glares to Edgarton himself, who stood patiently. He smiled when I caught his eye, infuriating me all the more.

“She isn’t usually like this,” the woman rambled. “I guess it’s just that she hasn’t been outside in ages. At least not with me. It’s really hard, you know, to make sure she gets a walk every day when you work pretty much twenty-four seven. I'm a doctor, by the way. A neurologist.”

“That’s impressive,” Edgarton said politely. “You look so young.” Her countenance brightened.

“Yeah!” she grinned. I was dismayed to see her completely pause what she was doing. “I got this job pretty much right after med school. I was really happy. It’s difficult to find any kind of work in this recession, so I was worried that I wouldn’t have anything to do after school. I had a bunch of bills to pay and all, so that was really troublesome. This job came at the right moment for me. It’s actually at a really cool place, too. LoboTech. You know, like lobotomy,” she laughed by herself. I glared, but she still didn’t notice. “Well, anyway, that’s where I work. It’s a sort of mix between hospital and research facility. We research both medical things and technological things. Currently, I think they’re building an A.I. that’s supposed to be very lifelike, like one of those glass dolls you see in stores. You know, the creepy ones whose eyes seem to follow you wherever you go?” Anyway, it should be more lifelike than that. Someone told me, in fact, that they were literally creating a human being, like a sort of bionic test tube baby. And what’s more—”

“Can you please hurry up?” I loudly interrupted. She jumped a little and turned to me, a little dazed. She probably hadn’t noticed I was there.

“Oh, right. I’m sorry. Sometimes I get a little ahead of myself,” she replied, giving another little laugh.

“No, it’s okay,” the guy responded. He now had a thoughtful look in his eyes. I groaned as it became increasingly obvious to me that this interruption wouldn’t be over for a long while. “Tell me more about this A.I. Is it, for example, made to emulate all the mannerisms of a human being?”

“Of course,” she breathed, blushing happily. She was overjoyed that he was talking back to her. “It was actually made from stem cells and improved through gene therapy and normal robot parts. It’s pretty much a real, live body grown over a titanium infrastructure, if you can believe that!”

“I wouldn’t doubt anything you say,” Edgarton assured her. “You seem like the honest type. I like the honest type.” Her blush deepened. My eyes rolled.

“Don’t we have to go somewhere?” I growled. This was taking far too long.

“Whereas you, Gwen,” he continued, “you are the hasty type. Sometimes I think you should slow down once in a while. Breathe in the fresh air.” I started to get a headache.

“Fine. You want me to breathe the fresh air?” I spat mockingly. “Alright.” I sort of shoved the woman out of the way as I untangled the last few feet of leash and stood back up again. “Let’s go breathe the fresh air as we continue going wherever we were heading.” I knew I was being unfair when the woman’s face fell.

“Oh, right,” she said pathetically. “You guys must be busy, huh?”

“Not too busy for you,” Edgarton gently smiled, brightening up her face. “In fact, I would very much like to talk to you some more. Do you have a cell phone or e-mail? We should keep in touch.” Her hopeful gaze made way for a large grin.

“Yes!” she shouted, shocking all of us. “I mean, yes I do. Here’s my number.” She fished around in her pocket for a green piece of paper and cheerfully handed it to him.

Edgarton brought it up to his face to scan it. I looked over his shoulder. It was a business card with the company name, LoboTech, in bright yellow letters. Her name, Kelsey Sanders, was set below it, followed by a work phone, home phone, cell phone, and e-mail address.

“That’s quite a lot of numbers,” Edgarton said blandly, making small talk.

“It’s because I need to be reached quickly at all times. You’ll notice my home address is like the only thing that’s not on there because I need some privacy. You can pretty much just call all the numbers in order. If I’m not at work, I’m probably home, and if I’m not at home, I’m probably out. I always make sure to have my cell phone with me.” As if to confirm her words, a popular jingle soon rang out. Her ringtone was one of the corny love songs that radios always played. She gave us one last smile, waved goodbye, and went off on her way, chatting on her phone. Her dog had long since grown tired of the interaction and was eager to move forward. Like me.

“What a nice girl,” Edgarton said after her, avoiding the menacing look I was giving him.

“Yeah,” I agreed sarcastically. “What a nice girl. Nice enough for you to waste all of my time. Look, it’s almost sunset. Let’s go already.” He only smiled as he led the way.

I quickly realized that we were not heading to the same café as before, but rather to a restaurant. Again, it was one I had never visited. This time the reason was that it was way too expensive for a student or anyone else.

“What are you doing?” I asked at first, confused as to whether or not we were really heading into such a high-class place. I was afraid that even walking through the door would bring forth a bill.

“Walking,” he replied as he turned into the building without fear.

“In here?” I asked incredulously, but he had already gone inside. I stood out there for a few moments, anxiously shifting my legs, before I took a deep breath and bravely strode into the place. I expected to enter an entirely new world, not just a regular-looking restaurant with waiters in formal dress.

“Hurry up,” Edgarton called from the maître d’s podium. The employee behind it flashed me a brilliant smile that I’m sure he didn’t mean—it is never pleasing to see someone turning around in circles and staring with their mouths open like idiots.

“Coming,” I muttered, making my way over. As soon as I was close enough the maître turned around and led us to a table.

“Please follow me, madam,” he said kindly. It was a nice way to tell me to stop looking like an idiot. Unfortunately for the both of us, this kind of flagrant stupidity refused to disappear. Luckily, the table was located all the way in the back and isolated, far from the prying eyes of the rich customers. The maître smiled at us once, then returned to his front desk.

“You can’t expect me to believe you can actually pay for all this,” I said as soon as I was seated and thought he was out of hearing range. The table had four chairs and I sat across from Edgarton.
“Whatever do you mean?” Edgarton picked up his menu.

“This is a very expensive restaurant, as I’m sure you know. You seem to know everything, after all.” I muttered the last sentence under my breath.

“Really? I was hoping we could split the cost,” he answered blandly as he flipped the pages.

“Wh—?” I almost screamed this, but made sure to catch myself just in time. The people at the neighboring tables gave me a strange look, and I continued as soon as they turned around again. “What do you mean?” I said in a harsh whisper. “I have no money. I’m a college student and I’m broke. B-R-O-K-E. We need to leave now.”

“Now?” he told me in an infuriatingly calm tone of voice. “Why would we do that when our companions are currently headed this way?” I looked up to check and, lo and behold, the other two members of our “djinn” party were being led by the maître d’. Clinton appeared disheveled, as if he had been sleeping up until now, while Étienne trailed behind him playing with his phone again.
“Listen,” I hissed at him, angrier than ever but vaguely starting to consider the benefits of four instead of two to divide the check by. “I have no money. Must I say it louder? Are you deaf or something? I am broke. If you only called me out here to tell us more gibberish about your stupid genies—” I intentionally chose this word to rile him up, and had trouble holding back my smile when I saw his perfect mask crack a little “—and take my lack of money, I’m leaving. I doubt you need me anyway.”

“Of course we need you,” Clinton protested. They were now near enough to have heard the conversation, and they sat down next to/between us. “I need you, Étienne needs you, and I’m sure that Edgar here needs you the most. He’s the one who called us out here, after all.” Mathers somehow found it necessary to give me a little wink. He nudged Edgarton, who either didn’t get the hint to concur or didn’t feel like doing so. I supposed that it was the latter.

“I called you three here this evening because I suspected that, after our last meeting, you did not walk away as enlightened as I had hoped.”

“So you take us to a five-star restaurant and hope the dear prices would enlighten us?” I muttered under my breath, making sure that I was loud enough for my whole table to hear.

“I don’t mind the meetings,” Étienne said, “but I want you to know that I’ll be very busy soon and might not be able to come. I got a job.”

“Oh, congratulations!” Clinton burst out, a little too enthused for my liking. Everything he did seemed over-the-top. I was starting to wish that Edgarton had just let him fail the third round back in that foreign country.

As soon as the thought reached my mind, Edgarton glanced up from the menu and flashed me a knowing smile. I jumped a little in my chair, startled beyond imagination. Could he read minds now? Was that how he knew everything?

“That was part of why I called this meeting today,” he declared as if confirming my supernatural suspicions. “I heard you were offered a job at LoboTech for your impressive work with Sarah.” He gave him a congratulatory grin. “But, please, everyone order something. I will gladly foot the bill.”

“Of course you will,” I muttered, again making sure that he heard. I picked up my menu and began looking through the mouthwatering dishes. I wanted to eat them all. In fact, why shouldn’t I? I stood the menu upright on the table so that I could grin evilly behind it as I made note of the meals I would order. I dimly registered that there was a conversation going on.

“You knew? Thank you,” Étienne beamed, putting his phone away. “I was just sending an e-mail to them. They wanted to know when I could start working.”

“You’re a student, aren’t you?” Clinton asked him. “It would be kind of hard to hold down a job and study at the same time, right?”

“I’m a computer science major,” Étienne shrugged, “and I know tons of people who would kill for the chance to work with LoboTech. They told me a little about their latest projects, and let me tell you, they are amazing.” I peeked above the laminated pages to get a glimpse of his face. He looked quite different, to my surprise. Instead of the bored technology geek expression or the confusion face, his eyes were twinkling. It was completely different from Edgarton’s eye-twinkle. Where the latter was mysteriously clandestine, Étienne’s was inspiring. I could tell that he had a real passion for whatever he was doing. Maybe Sarah was much more complex than I had thought.

“Oh, doubly good,” replied Clinton. A waitress came over to take our orders and he broke the conversation to talk to her.

“Yes, that is more than satisfactory,” Edgarton added, smiling again. The waitress had moved onto him. I started to get nervous; everyone was saying their choices out loud.

“I’m just so excited about it all,” our resident computer nerd gushed, showing an uncharacteristic interest. I wouldn’t have thought it possible from my first encounter with him. He said his order aloud as well.

“Can you tell us more about it?” asked Clinton. “I mean, if that’s okay with your employer. I know a little about the nondisclosure agreement myself, but I think I’m familiar with what LoboTech does.”
I grinned and decided to rescind my earlier hope for his death. Mathers saved me from embarrassment. I secretly slipped the waitress a written list of all of my dishes, pretended to mouth some words, and named a random drink aloud. She gave me a secret smile as she glanced the list before turning around to deliver the notes to the chef.

“No, they haven’t made me do anything like that yet. They barely even gave me a sneak peak.” Étienne looked a little crestfallen. “If you’re really as familiar with it, as you say, you’ll already know about how a branch of LoboTech builds A.I.’s and lifelike dolls. That’s actually the branch I’m going to be working for. A representative came to my end-of-term presentation last month and approached me after seeing what Sarah could do.”

“Amazing,” Clinton breathed. “Did he tell you exactly what he wanted you for?”

“She, actually,” Étienne corrected. “She told me it was a secret for now because the whole project was under wraps.” He paused, frowning. “In fact, I think there will be an NDA coming up. It all sounded pretty intense. I don’t suppose that I’ll be able to talk with you guys about it.”

“That will do just fine,” Edgarton reassured him. “We could visit you instead. I’m certain your superior won’t mind. Ms. Sanders, is she?” It wasn’t really a question. I glared at him, my mind flashing back to the time, maybe half an hour ago, when he had stopped to talk to the woman.

“How-How do you know that?” Étienne asked, astounded. The twinkle was replaced by the confusion face. Edgarton was being his regular annoying self by causing shock and amazement everywhere he went.

“There are ways,” he said simply. “She seemed like a nice woman. I do believe that there will be no problem in arranging an excursion to your workplace any time soon.”

“Yeah, I suppose so,” Étienne replied, his eyebrows furrowing, “but why would you want to come in the first place? It may not be over your head, but it will be boring. Mechanical work isn’t as exciting as everyone thinks and it really only makes sense if you’re the one putting the pieces together.”

“I am certain that it will be plenty exciting enough for me,” Edgarton answered, again refusing to elaborate. I was about to glare but I remembered the surprise I had in store for him and smiled.

“Actually, guys, I might not be able to come,” Mathers said distractedly. He had his phone out and was checking something. “I’ve been called away to check something out by the Caspian Sea. I probably won’t be back until the end of the week. Two weeks from now.”

“That’s alright.” Edgarton reassured him as well. He looked directly at me. “Gwendolyn will be kind enough to accompany me.”

“Wh-What?” I spluttered. “When did I ever agree to that?”

“When you ordered all of that,” he answered, nodding at something behind me.

I guiltily turned around in my chair to see my orders coming in. There was a huge tray of lobster, a large spaghetti and meatball dish, and a plate of caviar and octopus tentacles. I turned back around and smiled sheepishly.

“Gwendolyn has also kindly offered to share her food with the rest of us, as we have not gotten our meals yet.” He took the lobster tray from my side of the table as soon as I reached out to begin eating. The others shrugged. Étienne took my noodles and Mathers got the octopus. I stared glumly at the empty tablecloth before me.

“You suck,” I said to no one in particular. I think everyone knew exactly who I meant, and they let me stew to myself for maybe half an hour, inhaling the enticing scents. The waitress looked a bit surprised when she came with everyone’s orders, but one glance at my pouting face while my acquaintances gobbled up my food told her all she needed to know. She threw me an apologetic look before placing the dishes on the table. Because my section was the only one not piled with food, she managed to place one in front of me. With a brief grin, she left.

“I hope that you’re not planning on eating that,” Edgarton said without even looking up. Somehow he knew I was reaching for his salmon plate. I looked up to glare at him and saw that he was finishing off the last of my lobster.

“Why not?” I challenged, insulted once more. I snatched up my fork and knife and dug into the fish. I had already stuffed myself with a few bites before he looked up, done with my dish. I stared hard at him as I cut into another piece.

“If you would like to pay for it, I will let you,” he told me kindly, his trademark grin sneaking back onto his face.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.” A stalemate.

Étienne, to my right, spent this time eating my spaghetti. He had collected his plate of orange chicken and rice while I was distracted and was now alternating between the two. To my left, Mathers seemed to have completely forgotten my seafood and his dish, cheesy garlic bread and popcorn chicken, in favor of watching my silent fight with Edgarton.

“What if I licked it?” I threatened, collecting saliva. This was a necessary win-win tactic. By now I was sure it was late. It was definitely dark outside and I still hadn’t eaten dinner. No one wanted something covered in germs, and I knew that I was less crabby when I wasn’t hungry. But Edgarton apparently couldn’t listen to reason.

“Try it,” he repeated.

“Are you sure? I really will do it, you know.” I made a show of gathering spit. He only smiled in response, so I opened my mouth and we (he, Mathers, and I) watched the drool slowly hit the salmon. I spread it all over with my fork before handing it over.

“Don’t eat that,” Clinton warned. “She might be sick. You might get sick.” His eyes had followed the movement of the plate, and while he was busy doing that I had taken his chicken and bread. I munched contentedly while I watched Edgarton as well.

“You really are a vulgar one,” he said as he picked up his own fork and knife to cut off a piece of the germy dinner. He suddenly halted as he was raising his fork off the plate to make eye contact with me. I smirked, thinking that he had lost his nerve, but he returned the smile and brought the disgusting piece to his mouth. My smile disappeared immediately.

“H-How could you?” Mathers stammered, shocked. I stuffed more popcorn chicken into my mouth while he was distracted but soon regretted it when the magnitude of what had happened struck me. I began to feel queasy.

“Delicious,” Edgarton answered defiantly, his smile brightening. “Tastes just like maple syrup. Would you like some more?” he offered, holding out his fork to me.

“I’m good, thanks.” I made a show of gagging to express my disgust.

“That’s fine,” Edgarton said before chewing it himself. “So perhaps now we can commence the discussion of more important topics. Let us return to the earlier statement about the dubious reactions you three returned upon my disclosing your true potential.”

“What the heck does that even mean?” Mathers asked. For once, I wasn’t the one who spoke out. “Are we not human or something?” Étienne raised his head. From the movement I saw, I realized that he had been using his phone again, but the conversation was interesting enough to draw him back.

“No, that is not necessary,” Edgarton smiled. “Djinn, you see, are not a special race, and so are not restricted to a particular species. Think of it more as…an occupation of sorts. Universal in the way that foraging for food and resting are widespread among organisms.”

“Or how witches aren’t always men,” Clinton responded. Edgarton’s smile shifted to a more superficial one, but I supposed that I was the only one who noticed because Clinton didn’t change his words. Outwardly I maintained my standoffish dislike of Edgarton, but inwardly I felt happy to know that we both thought Mathers could be an insufferable idiot at times.

“It depends rather on your mindset,” Edgarton told him kindly. “But djinn are determined by a higher power, either Fate or whatever powers you believe in. Who imbues you three with these traits is of no importance, but what you choose to do with them is paramount to the survival of a large population.”

“Large population?” Étienne speculated curiously. “What do you mean?”

“Only what you may have already guessed. Humans are not the only sentient creatures on this planet, aside from the multitude of intelligent beings that are continually passed over by your kind, of course.”

“Our kind? What about you? Aren’t you human?” Mathers, being a natural journalist, zeroed in on this part. Étienne and I were nonplussed as we had already suspected that Edgarton was a little too strange to be entirely Homo sapiens. It was to us he glanced before answering Clinton.

“In a way,” he said vaguely. “Djinn are, as I was saying, imbued with the power to level not the entire earth, not individually, but a major section of it if left unchecked and untrained.”

“Oh. So you’re here to train us,” I spit out. “You want to get us to fit into this cookie-cutter mold that you and your ‘Universe Police’ have decided on.” I spoke sarcastically—and with air quotes—because I had disliked stereotypes and molds since high school. It’s kind of cliché, I know, but I liked the idea of being my own person.

“I assure you that it is not quite as severe as that,” Edgarton mused. “In fact, this is beneficial to both parties. You learn the proper way to utilize your gifts, and the world is free from the danger of it.” He stopped speaking and looked at each of us in turn, waiting for some sort of response.

“I’m in,” Mathers said immediately.

“Me too,” said Étienne, less enthusiastically.

“Alright,” I quickly added, eager to prevent them from all turning to look at me. Mathers would have definitely noticed my pilfering his dinner.

“Excellent,” Edgarton told us, giving us a pleasant smile. He was pleased that we agreed. “Now, are there any questions or concerns that you would like to pose before we begin?”

“Begin?” I almost shouted, but remembered again that we were in a restaurant and so my voice came out in a harsh whisper. “So soon?” I only got a smile in reply before he turned to Clinton who seemed to be ready to burst with his inquiry.

“I have a question,” Mathers began. “What sort of creature are you, then, if not human?” I noticed that he had taken out a pencil and notepad from out of nowhere and now held them carefully, ready to take down anything that struck his fancy. Edgarton noticed this too, and gave him the same silent treatment he gave me before turning to the final member of our group.

“Anything?” he asked him. Étienne took a few seconds to think it over before shaking his head.

“No, there’s nothing I have to ask that I don’t believe will be addressed later.”

“A smart man,” Edgarton appraised him. Clinton’s face fell. I could tell that, for all his bravado at our last meeting, he had seriously entertained the notion of his becoming Edgarton’s favorite.

“Will this training begin right here? Right now?” I continued incredulously, unwilling to let him blow off my worry so easily. Edgarton sighed before nodding.

“The waitress will return in a few minutes with a tray of desserts. I will tell you what I expect from each of you at that time.”

“Why not now?” I began to whine but broke off in shock when I saw Edgarton’s eyes narrow just a little bit, his smiles disappearing. It was perhaps the first time that he had openly showed his discontent on his face. I glanced around to check if anyone else had seen, but found Clinton was scribbling on his notepad and Étienne was doing something with his phone. When I glanced back at Edgarton his expression had already straightened out. I stared at him for a while, refusing to believe that my eyes had played a trick on me, but he only stared back with a blank face. No smile for me this time.

“Did you order these?” I heard the waitress say. I jumped a bit, startled, before I turned to see that she was next to our table. She balanced two large silver platters, one in each hand. I tried to see what they were but found my vantage point only permitted a view of the bottom. I was seated, and she held the plates high enough to thwart my efforts.

“Yes,” Edgarton answered. His charming smile returned. “Please, if you would, place them before these gentlemen.” She did as he requested and took her leave with our empty dinner plates. I was about to remark on the unfairness of being denied dessert, but the words died in my throat when I realized what was on the plates.

On Clinton’s side of the table there was an array of snails and frog legs. Étienne looked disappointed to see his plate full of insects—spiders, ants, grasshoppers, cockroaches, you name it. I grew increasingly glad that the waitress had not placed anything before me and breathed a sigh of relief. Edgarton’s twinkling eyes caught my attention, however, and I shivered unconsciously.

“Do you not like your dessert?” he asked innocently.

“Like?!” Mathers stared in horror at the slugs and amphibian parts. “How could anyone like this for dessert?” I suspected that he was the kind of man who, when visiting new places, always chose to eat what was familiar to him.

“Plenty of cultures eat that,” Étienne said defensively, looking glumly at his own dish. “Plenty eat this, too.”

“Why don’t you eat them both?” Clinton challenged. “Isn’t this what they serve in France?”

“Just because I’m French doesn’t mean I like it,” Étienne muttered.

“What is this banter that I hear? Do you not enjoy these meals?” Edgarton asked, feigning offense. “I supposed that you would appreciate a dessert to accompany it.”

“In what country does this classify as a dessert?” Clinton asked, nearly hysteric.

“If it is not to your liking, you could always change it. Alter the taste and appearance, perhaps.”

“How?”

“Consider it.” While Clinton lamented these cryptic words, Étienne pondered carefully. He stared hard at his bug dessert for maybe five whole minutes before it suddenly became and ice cream sundae. I was startled: one minute it was a plate of arthropods, then I blinked and it was a sweet frozen treat. In a bowl.

“Whoa,” Étienne murmured, smiling. Edgarton smiled at him appraisingly as he picked up his spoon and dug in. “Thanks for the dessert.”

“What?!” Mathers noticed the change and decided to attempt the same. He stared at his plate for a much longer time, probably closer to ten minutes. I suspected that it had something to do with his apparent inability to focus on anything for long. Nonetheless, his plate underwent a transformation as well. I now saw two large flans instead of the slimy meal. Unlike Étienne, Mathers didn’t say thank you and just started eating ravenously.

It was the sight of my two teammates enjoying their desserts that made me turn my eyes to Edgarton, only to find that he was already smiling at me. I stared steadily, hoping to break his mask, but he only grinned back.

“Well?” I said, wondering if denying me dessert was supposed to be a punishment for the number of times that I’d irritated him so far.

“As you can see, one of the many powers of djinn includes the alteration of matter,” he said simply. “Do not attempt to create something from nothing, because it is impossible. Matter and energy cannot be created nor destroyed, and the law of equivalent exchange rules it impossible for one to get something from where nothing existed.” Clinton and Étienne gave vague nods. Apparently, each was eating was the most delicious thing that he had ever tasted.

“So, my dessert?” I prodded.

“Create it,” he told me.

“Out of nothing?” I said this thoughtfully and without raising my voice, which I’m sure he appreciated. The napkin holder sitting in front of me caught my consideration, but I pulled a few napkins from it instead to avoid depriving the restaurant of the holder.

Once I had three napkins, I thought hard about what I wanted. A torte? A tart? A cake? I bet I spent a few minutes deciding on what to change them into. When I finally had my idea locked, I stared hard at the thin pieces of paper, chanting my idea in my mind. Just when I thought it was no good, the napkins disappeared, only to be replaced by a slice of pumpkin pie with a generous dollop of whipped cream. I stared at it beaming.

“Does it meet your fancy?” Edgarton asked me. I could hear the smile in his voice, but instead of getting annoyed I raised my grin to face him. He looked a bit startled.

“Thank you so much!” I said. “Would you like some?” He glanced tentatively from the plate, to me, to back again, perhaps thinking I’d poisoned it, but I held the pie out to him and patiently waited for him to cut off a piece and place it on his own empty plate. When I got the pie back I looked around the table, excited to show off my skills, but was only disappointed. The two gluttons hadn’t noticed anything at all and were still working on their desserts, so I glumly stabbed my fork into mine and began eating. The first bite was so delicious, however, that I had to forget my anger.

“Why did this take so long?” Mathers asked idly as he started on his second flan.

“It’s as I explained earlier,” Edgarton told him. “Everyone is born with three eggs, and the only one not reserved is used for wishes during a lifetime. It—”

“Wait!” Mathers said, letting his fork fall to his plate with a clatter. “You made me use up my wish for that? For this?” He stared in horror at his treat.

“If you would let me finish for once, I would have informed you that djinn are not governed by the same rules. It was once believed that djinn disregarded the rules of the universe entirely and had their own source of energy within them which they used to grant wishes, but it was later discovered that djinn have access to more than the standard number of eggs. It is still not known where the eggs are obtained from, but it is apparent that djinn are able to use them without restriction.”

“Unlimited,” Mathers said, calming down. He picked up his fork again. “Then why did it take so long?”

“You are as yet unused to living with the abandon most djinn grant wishes, since you have existed for so long under the assumption that you were like your human peers. A part of you, the built-in mechanism used to prevent creatures from wasting their eggs, blocks access from the actual cracking of an egg until it is ascertained that the organism is serious about the wish.”

“Well, that evens the playing field,” Clinton replied, already back to gobbling up his flan.

“Wait,” I started. “You said ‘human peers.’ Does this mean that we aren’t human? No, don’t answer that. I remember you saying we were human, just human djinn, but if we are unlike our peers does that mean we weren’t really born of them? What I mean is, did I really come from my parents?”

“Why would you ask that?” he inquired in his usual way of dodging questions. “Do you feel different from your family members in any way?”

“Yes and no,” I confessed. “Like, I know most young adults feel the same way, kind of disconnected and misunderstood, but sometimes I look at my family and think I don’t really belong there. With them, I mean.” It was a hard enough thing to say, and Edgarton’s intense stare made it worse. My ears and cheeks felt hot with both embarrassment and dismay as I realized there was both interest and confusion in his eyes. “Just forget it,” I told him. If not even Edgarton knew the answer, it was best to forget the whole thing. He nodded, but it didn’t seem to me like he obeyed.

“So, just to clarify, we are humans who belong to a subclass, called djinn. We do not have to follow the rules others must follow, as we have more than three eggs at our disposal. Eggs that release a massive amount of energy when broken open,” Étienne summarized.

“Yes.”

“If that’s the case, why can’t we create things out of nothing? The law of conservation of mass and energy doesn’t really apply, does it, when using those eggs as the power source?” Edgarton smiled slowly.

“A brilliant question,” he said. “One that I’m afraid will have to receive a vague answer.” The first apology he’d ever given, I suspected, for his inability to directly answer questions. “While matter is typically unseen and therefore unnoticed except when in carbon or an otherwise tangible form, energy is much more flexible. There is a large amount of free energy floating around us every second in its perpetual shift from kinetic to potential and vice versa. I apologize for any confusion regarding my initial explanation of the eggs. They contain a large amount of energy, yet the energy must come from somewhere. The eggs, therefore, gather free energy before they are broken. The confirmation mechanism I spoke of is also a signal to whatever controls the eggs to begin extracting the unused energy available.”

“So you’re saying the egg is simply a container?”

“In effect, yes,” said Edgarton a bit regretfully. Étienne looked pensive.

“Why eggs? Can anything be used to hold in all that free energy?” he asked thoughtfully.

“You hardly need to be searching for a way around the system when it doesn’t apply to you, anyway,” Edgarton said drily. “But, to answer that question, no. Eggs are a very special sort of limiter. They are virtually impenetrable being, as they are, created around what they’re meant to protect. Free energy, you see, does not exactly fit into the one of the four phases of matter—gas, liquid, solid, and plasma—but it can become a gas at times. The eggs which most living organisms hold within are capable of turning porous to allow the energy to enter.”

“What does that have to do with the choice of container? I can easily build something with a fibrous shell.”

“I have told you that eggs are unique because they are molded around what they keep inside. The eggs that provide wishes are created with a special substance. Gas, consisting of ever-moving, excited particles, fills up whatever it inhabits. When the gas becomes so dense that no molecule can move, the substance activates and morphs it into a special solid similar to Bose-Einstein condensate. After the wish is confirmed, the user ‘cracks’ the eggshell, and the interaction with the cool air causes the mixture to explode, much like the nuclear explosions common in sub-atomic physics.”

“Whoa,” Étienne said, stunned. This all meant something to him. I, on the other hand, felt this was way over my head. One look at Clinton, who was blankly staring at his empty plate, confirmed that he felt the same.

“Yes, it is quite astonishing.”

“Do you know what that substance is?” Étienne looked so excited that I stifled my upcoming yawn so as to not seem bored. Clinton was not so courteous.

“If I knew, I would not let you know,” Edgarton said truthfully. He seemed a little sad to see Étienne deflate. “It is of utmost importance that I do not impart certain information upon you that would be contrary to my objective.”

“And your objective is…?” I prodded him. He turned to stare at me.

“To do all that is in my power to preserve the lives of millions.”

“Are we really that dangerous?” I asked earnestly, glancing sideways at Clinton. He had begun to lick his plate, as if traces of the caramel dessert remained. Edgarton followed my gaze, but his stern expression did not change.

“I do not believe that you understand the depth of the situation,” he told me. “I may not have mentioned this before, but djinn are born very rarely. Having two born centuries apart is out of the ordinary.”

“B-But,” I stuttered, looking at my two companions, “but there are three of us.” I was not the only one who was dumbstruck; Étienne had widened his eyes and Mathers had frozen, startled out of cleaning his plate.

“Yes,” Edgarton answered. “Check, please.” And just like that, our dinner was over.