Muse Silver-Green

"Paisley went home for the night," my former supervisor said. "This isn't a live recording, and Mason can't hear your thoughts. If you perform an adequate job, I'll allow you to see the current live feed of the corrupted chosen one, Zander Phall."

"Okay." We watched the stream. I felt joyous seeing Mason, even though I couldn't talk to him.

"I hate temps, but I despise repulsive musical theater geeks even more." He swung at Mason but missed again, punching the table. He screamed in pain.

Mason ducked and sang. I am The Captain of The Pinafore during their fight. Customers in the cafeteria took photos.

"Stop singing whenever I try to hit you," the man said.

"I'm able to fight and perform. Can you?" Mason tossed him to the floor. "Beaten by a temp. Does that make you pathetic?"

"Your obsessive singing is why you no longer have a girlfriend." The man fled.

Mason walked back to the lunch table. He read a musical script book from his phone and wrote a song idea for the sequel to his play, The Mystery of Dracula's Dawn, on a note-keeping app.

His mother finally arrived, and he stood up to purchase his meal.

Mason approached the salad station, and the on-duty chef prepared a rainbow cob and poured him a cup of tomato soup. He walked over to the Happy Bread station. The baker arranged buns that resembled cat faces on the counter and placed a tray of bee-shaped honey cakes into the oven behind her.

He purchased two buns and walked back to the table.

Lace ordered a boxed cucumber sandwich and poured herself a large bowl of runny 3D printed chocolate pudding from a food printer.

Commander Nickel sat down next to them and clutched her cheap ration bar. Subtle crackling sounds came from the silver and black wrapper.

Mason smirked and ate half a bun. "Your maple-glazed ham bar contains more sugar and caffeine than two bags of chocolate-covered candy corn." He left and came back with a boxed steak salad. "Come on. It's your favorite."

"Mason, you act more like a mom than I do," Lace said.

Commander Nickel lifted the lid. "Mason, you're a sweetheart, and thank you." She dug into her meal. "My table has been taken over by General Allen's crew. They're great, and Allen is a former friend, but I'm unworthy to sit at his table. He assigned me to fix this crew, and I haven't, but I refuse to forgive myself for..." she paused.

"You reduced fatality rates by 20%," Lace said.

Commander Nickel ate her salad and munched on her unhealthy ham bar. "Maybe I should take that empowerment course." Her eyes fixated on the general.

General Allen was a human male. His prematurely gray hair made him appear two decades older from afar, but up close, his face was still boyish.

Even then, his manly square jaw bore a strong resemblance to his older brother, Tolbert. Small freckles dotted his cheeks, but they were only noticeable up close. He waved, and his lips spread into a generous grin in Medic Lace's direction.

When Nickel stared at the floor, the general's lips trembled, and his eyes clouded over.

Lace shook Commander Nickel's shoulder. "Allen is beautiful and hasn't been on a date since his wife divorced him. He is too young and hot to be alone." She patted the commander's hand. "I'll set you up with him, and I think I was wrong about his intentions. He is the perfect man for you and a jacked version of Santa Claus."

"After what happened, the general despises me. I've asked him out, but if you think you can get him to change his mind." Commander Nickel crumbled over the table.

Lace hugged her friend. "No one blames you."

Mason tapped his foot and didn't speak.

"Well, to tell the truth, Kitten, I mean, General Allen already turned me down due to the fact I work for him, and he no longer trusts me after the incident with both my ex-boyfriends. He only hasn't fired me because he needs a temp, and he feels I'm more likely to survive."

"Your last ex dragged you through the mud with him," Lace said.

Nickel's voice cracked. "He told me the engagement fell through."

"If your ex asks you out again, demand you both go through therapy together." Lace gave her friend a small hug. "His low self-esteem has infected you."

"You're right. It's why I planned to attend the self-improvement club. I wouldn't have kissed him if I wasn't a mess. What was I thinking? Could you and Mason join me?"

Mason avoided staring at the club members. They only sat at their tables, stiffly staring into space as if they were waiting for instruction. "Count me out. I think they recruit for Deb's Light or some other cult."

My limbs felt uncomfortable, and I squirmed in my chair. I remembered this group and realized I was only back to work because I'd been cleared of being a cult member. "But this can't be correct," I said out loud.

"Focus on the recording," my supervisor said.

Lace grimaced. "My baby boy is right."

Commander Nickel took a deep breath before speaking. "The crew members came out disciplined like Mason and you, and it's not a church."

Mason leaned in. "It's a cult. I attended a couple of their sessions. Teachers give victims a lot of praise at first. Self-improvement clubs and businesses can be cults, but they demand fees for their free courses. Your instructor promises you'll earn back what you spent and more."

"I overheard you, and I have questions. Are all affiliate marketing groups cults?" a cat woman from the next table asked.

Mason turned to them. "Of course not. My plays are rented through affiliate marketing. Promoters get a commission when they sell one of my plays to a production, but there are no fees to join."

"But what about the cult?" she asked.

Manson answered. "Her teachers instruct you to purge non-supportive family members who don't buy their products. Deb also doesn't pay you if you don't buy a product every month and won't accept returns of damaged products."

"But Deb recruits online, not just classes," the woman said.

Mason narrowed his eyes. "Yes, through her video game paid by advertisers and cultists' money. Gaming apps are one of her thousands of legitimate but overpriced products, including weapons, coal stoves, and lines of designer clothes. She sells full catalogs meant to rip off her more wealthy cultists and tricks her employees into thinking they are being paid."

"Thank you, I've been considering Deb's package, and she promises vacations and a house if I recruit enough. I need to think about this." The woman left.

"Why did you check it out?" Nickel asked.

"I was researching the Salamander murders for a musical. But I discovered there is a genuine concern whoever killed Quin and her daughter is the cult leader or one of her main supporters. I contacted the police. Deb's style is to sabotage ships in the same manner that Quin's ship went down. Then she steals their cargo. Grandma analyzed the computer code, and it's the same. The agency is patching it."

"I wish you didn't involve your grandmother. She's still a suspect," Nickel said.

"Yes, she is, but I'm not an expert in computer code," Mason said. "But I've given up. Grandma is unable to trace the code further. And Tolbert runs Deb's manufacturing plants. Quin and her poor daughter's murder might never be solved."

"Your life is in danger, and—."

Commander Nickel interrupted Mason's mother. "I'm not sorry Vash died." She narrowed her eyes. "Who cares? She wasn't a sweet girl. No one wants to tell the truth about how she cheated her way through the College for Prodigies and the Arts."

"Where did you find this information?" Mason asked.

"Meeting the brat. When she wasn't cheating, she spent her days alone in the dorm reading comic books, eating full sheet cakes, or listening to musicals loudly so no one else on the floor could sleep regular hours."

"So, she didn't have any friends," Mason said. "At least I had my brother."

"No, she had her sisters, Shanna and Dina." Nickel stared into Mason's eyes. "Your mom also sent Vash stacks of comic books and musical soundtracks. I met your mother after Vash's death."

"You act like I'm a saint, but Vash's mom ignored her. Quin's treatment of Dina was why we originally stopped being friends," Lace said. "She only became a mother to prove corporations did a better job at raising children. Most of her children were factory raised except for Shanna."

Nickel Snorted. "Vash left college every weekend with Shanna to go to elaborate tea parties and plays because no one else in her family liked her. Shanna was just thankful to find another theater nerd. They'd dress in stupid hats and old lady dresses. Vash invited me to a couple of them, but I refused to go."

General Allen glared at Nickel, and she flinched.

A masked man broke into my booth and waved a laser gun. He shot at us. I hit him with my cane. Security dragged him away.

What wasn't I being told?