Chapter Text
Update #6
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January 20, 1996
University of Phoenix
Phoenix, Arizona
United States of America
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Professor Darrell McArthur shook his head in disbelief. Some people around here had absolutely no sense of fashion whatsoever. Granted, he'd seen several kids with thousands of piercings and tattoos in his ornithology lecture. But what would you call an outfit with a purple top and a green robe, especially when it was worn by a man who appeared to be in his mid-fifties?
Had the costumed weirdo been a kid, McArthur would have assumed that he would have been part of some Dungeons and Dragons group or a member of the Society for Creative Anachronism. But a mature adult? Beat the hell out of him.
Coffee break over, he turned back to the project at hand. A couple of weeks ago, he had been sent a copy of a recording taken during a Super Bowl commercial shooting in London. This recording had apparently picked up an unusual object flying down the Thames, presumably a bird. Someone on the photo shoot, a Blast Cola executive named Stern, had had the good sense to send the footage to an ornithologist in case the creature was a newly-discovered species. The recording had been bounced around the department for a few weeks and had eventually wound up on his desk.
The first thing McArthur had done was view the film. There was the bird, just as Stern had claimed. The creature had flown right past the boat, so it wasn't easy to miss. However, it was poorly illuminated so he couldn't tell exactly what it was. So, he'd sent the film over to a processing lab in Scottsdale which would help increase the contrast. Hopefully that would help clarify the image.
The film had been mailed back today and was lying on his desk, waiting for analysis. Pencil in hand, McArthur slid it into the projector and began playing it.
The lab had done its job. Everything was much clearer and sharper now. Whoever this Stern was had filmed the commercial using special film which would be run at 48 frames per second instead of the usual 24 in an attempt to produce an ad of the highest quality possible. This allowed him to see the object flying by in unprecedented detail.
McArthur took one look at the image and nearly cracked up.
It was a teenage boy on a broomstick. It looked like this kid was trying to try out for a role as the Wicked Witch of the West.
It was obvious -- this Stern had been subject to a prank. Obviously, someone on the deck above the commercial shoot had hung a picture of a witch out the window in an attempt to mess around with the commercial. He'd have to call Stern back and tell him to redo the shoot.
He looked more closely at the image to see if he can figure out how exactly the prank had been performed. Judging from the distance the kid had traveled between frames, the little boy was probably traveling at least 30 mph faster than the boat.
His eyes narrowed in puzzlement. How the hell would someone be able to run 30 mph on a boat? He'd been on a few cruise liners himself, and he'd never seen any evidence of cars on them.
The only explanation was that the prankster had come up underneath the boat in a motorboat of their own, placed the image on a pole, and towed the image through the shoot. However, that didn't make sense either. Had that been the case, the image would be bobbing up and down in the waves. This image was not doing so, as far as he could tell.
He analyzed the film further and suddenly saw three things that made his blood turn to ice.
First, he noticed absolutely no evidence of anything holding that broomstick up. No poles. No masts. No wings. No wires. Nothing. It was almost as if the thing had been floating in midair and traveling with no visible source of propulsion. However, that was nothing compared to the second surprise.
The boy had blinked midway through the scene. A cardboard cutout couldn't have done that. Furthermore, if the commercial was aired live, no one would have been able to see the boy blink given the speed he was traveling at and the low light.
The third surprise consisted of a pair of smaller objects in the field of view. They also appeared to be people on broomsticks seen at a distance. They had only become visible after the film had been treated.
They were maybe 30 feet from the boat. There was water beneath them. and air above them. No boats. No gliders. Nothing.
McArthur couldn't believe what he was seeing. He was a scientist and wracked his brain for other explanations. There were none.
He had Stern's number in front of him. It was time to tell the man something which would absolutely floor him.
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The phone rang in Stern's office, and he picked it up. "Stern."
"Good afternoon, Mr. Stern. This is Profesor McArthur from the University of Phoenix. I've just finished looking at your film footage. It's quite...unusual."
Stern nodded. "I'd suspect so. What species is it? It's pretty big."
McArthur hesitated. "Mr. Stern, are you sitting down? You're going to be in for a surprise. As a teaser, I've made a copy of the film and sent it to our anthropology department, not the biology one. And I'm also recording this call for posterity."
Stern frowned. "The anthropology department?"
"Yes, Mr. Stern. What you have here is -- and I swear to God this is the case -- a teenage boy flying on a broomstick. There are two other people flying on broomsticks as well a little further away. None of them have any means of support or propulsion. And they're not cardboard cutouts because I saw the kid blink."
Stern's jaw dropped. "Are you telling me they're...witches?"
"Correct, Mr. Stern. Believe me, I'm a scientist. I couldn't think of any other explanation. I -- hold on a second, someone just came in..."
The line went quiet for a few seconds, after which a new voice shouted a word that sounded like "Obliviate" and he heard a zapping sound. He heard some muffled voices for a second. Eventually, McArthur came back on the line.
McArthur sounded a bit woozy. "Hello?"
"I'm still here, Professor."
"Who is this?"
Stern was puzzled. "David Stern, Professor. You were talking to me about my videotape. You think you saw evidence of people on broomsticks on my videotape."
"What videotape? What witches? Is this some crank call or something like that? Because if it is, I'm going to tell the dean about this and you're going to be in big trouble."
The conversation went on for a few more minutes. Eventually, Stern just hung up in confusion.
Obliviate? What did Obliviate mean?
He hoped that the Professor hadn't suffered a bout of amnesia or gone into shock because of the magnitude of his discovery. Perhaps that automated computer recording of the conversation would be able to remind him of what happened.
To be continued...
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Update #7
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January 22, 1996
Blast Cola Headquarters
Tempe, Arizona
United States of America
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Isaac Sanders was startled when he felt someone poke him on the shoulder. Turning away from his computer, he found himself staring into the face of David Stern.
Stern's face was registering confusion and shock. Had something happened to him? Had there been a problem with the commercial. He'd find out soon enough, he supposed.
Stern spoke one sentence. "Izzy, I need to talk to you for a second. Something very...unusual has occurred which you may want to know about."
A worried Sanders followed Stern into an empty conference room. As Stern closed the door behind him, Sanders's concern got the best of him. "What happened, Dave? I haven't seen you like this since Misty was hit by that car."
Stern shook his head. "It's about the commercial. We may have a problem."
Sanders swore to himself. "A problem? What happened? Did the networks pull our ad for some reason? I thought we had confirmation that our ad would be shown midway through the second quarter."
Stern's voice lowered. "It's not the commercial itself. It's that bird that flew past the camera while we were shooting in London."
Sanders nodded. "What about it? I remember it well -- I thought it looked like some kid riding a broomstick."
Stern drew a deep breath. "Izzy, I just got a call from a professor from the University of Phoenix. You may recall that I sent a copy of the tape to an ornithologist I knew to have him determine what type of bird it was. The professor did some work with it and performed some additional processing on the film. And he reached a conclusion which even he couldn't believe."
He paused for effect. "Izzy, you were right. It's a kid flying a broomstick."
Sanders swore. "Oh boy. Someone's hacked us. I bet Pepsi or Coke --"
Stern cut him off. "It's not a hack, Izzy. The professor was absolutely convinced that what we were seeing was an honest to goodness Wizard of Oz-style warlock flying on a broomstick. It was a real person, and not a cardboard cutout -- the kid was blinking. Second, there were two other...anomalies...visible in the processed image, both of which looked like people on broomsticks. Furthermore, there was absolutely nothing supporting any of those brooms or propelling them. Those people were flying using...forces...unknown to science."
Sanders stared at him for a moment and laughed. "Damn, Dave, you almost had me there for a second. You've gotten very good at practical jokes -- "
Sanders cut himself off when he took a good look at Stern's face. The man was terrified. Clearing his throat loudly, he apologized for the interruption and asked Stern to continue.
Stern looked at the floor. "There was one more thing, however, which really troubles me. The community of witches apparently wants to keep itself hidden and are trying to erase any evidence that outsiders know they exist."
Sanders stared at him. "What? I can understand the witches wanting to practice their customs in peace. However, I don't see any reason why they'd want to make us forget they were ever there, though. We didn't threaten them at all. What evidence do you have for this?"
Stern closed his eyes. "Midway through the conversation, the professor had to step away for a moment as someone else had entered his lab. A few seconds went by, and I heard some new guy utter a strange word: `Obliviate'. A few seconds went by, and when the professor came back to the phone, he had no idea who I was or why I had called. What's more, he had absolutely no recollection of ever having handled a videotape or seen evidence of witches. It was as if his mind had been wiped."
Stern paused once more.
"That word 'Obliviate' seems to come from the same root as 'oblivious'. It's almost as if it were a magical spell designed to make people forget a certain event."
Sanders gaped at him. "You mean to tell me that this other guy cast a spell of some sort to make the professor forget what he had seen and then walked away with the evidence?"
"I think so, Izzy. However, I'm not sure whether he managed to come away with the videotape. Supposedly the professor had delivered the videotape to another department -- the anthropologists, so they could study the witches -- before calling me. I have no idea if this guy checked with them."
Sanders frowned. "Wait a minute. If this guy wants to cover up the evidence, why didn't he cast a spell on you to make you forget as well?"
"My guess is he didn't see me there and you have to be physically present to cast a spell on someone. That's the way it works in the movies, after all. However, the obvious implication is that this guy is probably going to be looking for us. We could be in danger. We're going to need to get in touch with those witches somehow and tell them that we mean them no harm and are willing to keep this secret to ourselves."
Sanders looked at the floor and shuffled his feet. "Uh, Dave, if what you're saying is correct, the secret is probably going to be out in a week or so anyway. I'd suspect that those witches are going to have bigger problems to deal with."
Stern stared at him. "A week or so? What --"
Then it dawned on Stern, who put his head his hands. "Oh my God. Super Bowl commercial. That commercial is going to be seen by hundreds of millions of people all over the world. Within a week, the entire world will know that these witches exist. Judging from how seriously they take their privacy, I suspect they aren't going to be happy. And unhappy witches tend to cast spells on people."
Sanders looked out the window. "Is there any way we can cancel the commercial, reshoot it, and get it ready for Super Bowl XXXI?"
"No. The deadline for pulling out of the deal was last month. Besides, if we were to cancel it, the CEO would have my head."
Sanders whistled. "May God have mercy on our souls."
Stern nodded. "May He indeed."
To be continued...
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Update #8
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January 25, 1996
Dine Center for Shamanism and Sorcery
Fourth Mesa, Navajo Reservation, Arizona
United States of America
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DINE CENTER FOR SHAMANISM AND SORCERY
STATUTE OF SECRECY VIOLATION REPORT
Case File: US-SW-003266
Obliviation Agent: Alexander Strong Bear Parkman
Date Opened: 1/17/96
Risk Level: Low to Moderate
BRIEF SYNOPSIS OF VIOLATION AND STATUS
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Fourth Mesa first became aware of the incident on Wednesday, January 17th. The Violation Detectors in the greater Phoenix area began picking up a large number of excited comments about witches and warlocks, all within a short period of time and within a very concentrated area. After a brief consultation, Shaman Strong Bear was sent to investigate.
Shaman Strong Bear is familiar with a great deal of modern Muggle technology, which proved to be crucial in helping contain this violation. He is also a full-blooded Dine shaman of the highest rank and has handled several Obliviations in the past (see case files US-SW-003132, US-SW-003200, and US-CA-010585).
Strong Bear was able to pinpoint the location of the comments relatively easily. They appeared be centered on an image processing facility in Scottsdale. He donned his Invisibility Cloak and infiltrated the building.
The people in the facility had recently been mailed a videotape for additional video processing. This videotape had come from a Professor Darrell McArthur from the University of Phoenix. Professor McArthur is a biologist who specializes in ornithology and bird-aided epidemics.
Judging from the comments Strong Bear heard in the lab, the facility had recently processed a videotape which purported to show three wizards flying broomsticks in Greater London. A consultation with Cornelius Fudge, the British Minister of Magic, has revealed that these wizards are most likely Harry Potter, 15; Alastair Moody, 62; and Remus Lupin, 34.
Potter is currently a student at Hogwarts, living in Gryffindor House. He was recently acquitted on charges of underage magic. Moody and Lupin are both Aurors and members of the Order of the Phoenix. Both were hired to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts but suffered ill fortune due to Lord Voldemort's curse against the Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers. Lupin was exposed as a werewolf and resigned. Moody was taken hostage by Bartholomew Crouch, Jr., a Death Eater. Crouch then took Moody's place as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.
Strong Bear took immediate action, cordoning off the facility and Obliviating everyone in the building. He checked the telephone and computer records and believes that he managed to repair the Statute of Secrecy in this area. However, he was unable to retrieve the videotape, which had apparently been sent back to Professor McArthur.
The Obliviator next visited Professor McArthur's office at the University of Phoenix, only to find McArthur talking on the phone. Strong Bear then Obliviated McArthur, waited for the Professor to complete his call, and then checked the phone records and computer email logs. The phone records reported that the Professor's last call had been to a Mr. David Stern, an executive for the Blast Soft Drink Corporation of Tempe. He then erased the recording of the conversation and headed off to Obliviate Stern.
Strong Bear is currently in the process of trying to track down this man. Stern was not there when Strong Bear visited his house on the 22nd. However, Strong Bear took advantage of the opportunity to do a brief check of the premises for the incriminating videotape. It was not there. He is operating under the assumption that Stern must have sent the tape off to someone else.
[Here our poor Obliviator is barking up the wrong tree. He thinks that Stern sent it to someone, whereas it was actually McArthur who'd handed it off to the anthropology department. That's going to keep it out of his hands...long enough.]
That investigation is also still ongoing. Strong Bear plans to Obliviate everyone he can find who has come into contact with the videotape, as well as everyone with whom the suspects communicated. The magical wiretaps on the telephone lines are working quite well.
LATEST UPDATE
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Strong Bear reports that he believes he will have this matter closed relatively quickly. He plans to Obliviate Stern as soon as he finds him. He is considering Obliviating all of Blast Soft Drink Corporation, as well as the entire community within a one-mile radius of the place where the videotape is eventually found.
The only thing Strong Bear is concerned about is the possibility that someone made a copy of the videotape. If that is the case, he may have some more work to do. Fortunately, he knows what the next steps are and believes he will have the matter resolved by February 1st.
Strong Bear recommends that this incident be upgraded to Moderate Risk as of now. Once the possibility of multiple copies of the tape is dealt with, however, he expects that it will be able to be downgraded back to Low and eventually closed.
The next update on this case will be due on January 30th, 1996.
[Also known as two days after the Super Bowl. Too late, dude...]
To be continued...
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Update #9
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January 28, 1996
Sun Devil Stadium
Tempe, Arizona
United States of America
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David Stern would have never guessed that he would eventually wind up in a luxury box for the Super Bowl. Yet here he was, high above the field, along with his son and several other Blast executives.
The box must have cost hundreds of thousands of dollars, if not more. However, when you're already spending $3 million on a Super Bowl commercial, what's another hundred thousand or so?
He could see several other boxes with advertisements beneath them. He suspected that they corresponded to the other companies which had sponsored the game: Budweiser, Fedex, Pizza Hut, and so forth. As far as he could tell, Blast was the only small company gambling on a Super Bowl ad to bolster its revenue.
Revenue, as it turned out, was not the only thing Blast was gambling with by filming the commercial. There was another as well. One which likely had far worse repercussions than a few million dollars.
Stern hadn't told anyone else about the witches yet. It was only appropriate given the situation. Besides, who would have believed him, anyway? Had he not received the report from McArthur and listened to the poor man being Obliviated over the phone, he wouldn't have believed it himself. He had shot the commercial himself and had been convinced it was a bird.
He looked around the luxury box. Three TV's were covering the pregame show. Another one was turned to ESPN. Two more were covering the teams' locker rooms. There was enough technology here to outdo a science lab.
Comfortable chairs and couches were strewn throughout the area. The room had its own bathroom. A coffee machine was sitting on a table next to bowls of pretzels, fine cheeses, and soft drinks (including, of course, Blast).
There was a full bar as well. Behind the bar was an attractive Native American man -- Navajo, it seemed like -- in an expensive cashmere suit. The bartender was wearing two medallions on his suit. The first sported an image of a fierce bear inside a circle. The second was simply a nameplate reading A. PARKMAN.
Stern jumped as the CEO tapped him on the shoulder. "You OK? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Stern had to think fast. "I'm fine, Mike. To be honest, I can't believe I'm actually here at the Super Bowl. Had the Cardinals actually been in the game, I'd have probably fainted."
The CEO laughed as well. "Well, enjoy this moment, Dave. You'll probably never get another chance at this. Want some champagne? You've earned it, and it should cheer you up."
Stern sighed. "I suppose. I definitely need being cheered up. I've got a lot on my mind right now."
"It's understandable, Dave. You're concerned no one will like the commercial. However, judging from what I've seen of the it, you'll do fine. The London shoot was exceptional, timing the script to discuss phantoms just as the bird flew past. This ad should be a hit. To be honest, even an awful Super Bowl commercial will advertise Blast all over the world."
Stern caught a motion out the corner of his eye. The bartender, en route to Stern with the drinks platter, was staring at him intently, a thoughtful expression on his face. The Navajo's hand was slowly reaching into his pocket, as if he were trying to pull out a gun...or a wand. Eventually, the bartender changed his mind and continued walking towards him with the drinks.
Stern rolled his eyes. Damn it, Dave, he thought to himself. You're getting paranoid. If the witches were trying to Obliviate you, they'd want to do it in a place without any witnesses. After all, they don't want their world exposed.
The CEO slapped him on the back. "Believe me, we're going to recoup our investment easily. Don't be surprised if you get a promotion out of this."
This actually cheered Stern up enough to bring him back to his senses. Picking up a drink -- the bartender was still studying him -- he sank down into a recliner and began watching the pregame show.
After what appeared to be an eternity, the game began. Soon, the Cowboys and Steelers were forcing their way up and down the field. Fans cheered as the TV commercials were shown during breaks. Stern recognized most of them: the Budweiser frogs, Pizza Hut, Coke, and so forth. Some of them were good, some of them were mediocre, and some of them were downright awful. Judging from what he recalled of Blast's own commercial, he figured Blast's would probably rank in the mediocre range. But it would be good enough. After all, it was the Super Bowl.
By the end of the first quarter, Stern had finally relaxed. Turning to the CEO, he asked: "Hey, Mike! You've got a strong vocabulary, don't you?"
The CEO nodded. "Yeah, Dave. Why do you ask?"
"What does the word `Obliviate' mean?"
The bartender turned to him, put down his drinks, and put his hand in his pocket once more. He brought out a long stick which looked like a laser pointer and pointed it at Stern.
"It means, Mr. Stern, that you're in a hell of a lot of trouble."
To be continued...
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Update #10
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January 28, 1996
Sun Devil Stadium
Tempe, Arizona
United States of America
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For a few seconds, nobody moved. The bartender kept his laser pointer aimed at Stern, who was now convinced that it was some kind of magic wand. The CEO glanced back and forth from Stern to the bartender as the other Blast executives' eyes widened in confusion. Down below, on the field, the Cowboys made a first down. No one noticed.
Finally, the CEO broke the silence. "Uh...Dave, what's going on here? Who is this guy? And why is he pointing a laser pointer at us? Is he going to blast us with a ray gun or something like that and consign us into oblivion?"
The bartender shook his head. "God forbid, sir. It is against our code of conduct to kill for any reason. There are three crimes which are unforgivable and murder is one of them."
The CEO continued looking at Stern. "I'm glad to hear that, Mr...Parkman, is it?"
The bartender nodded. "Yes, sir. My name is Alexander Parkman. I go by my Dine name, Strong Bear."
The CEO was now looking at the bartender. "Dine?"
"You know us as the Navajo, sir. However, the proper term to use to refer to our people is the Dine."
The CEO grunted and turned back to Stern. "What did you do, Dave? Did you interrupt one of their sacred ceremonies or something like that?"
Strong Bear shook his head. "He did not, sir. However, he witnessed something which should be kept secret. He cannot be allowed to spread this knowledge further."
Stern finally managed to untie his tongue. "Guys, let me explain what happened, to the best of my knowledge. This man belongs to a secret society which we have been coexisting with peacefully for many, many years. I have reason to believe we accidentally recorded footage of one of its members in action while we were working on our commercial. They're trying to prevent the world from learning about their society."
The CEO frowned. "What type of society is this?"
Stern shook his head. "It would not be appropriate of me to say any more. I don't want to make the leak any worse than it is."
Strong Bear turned to Stern and nodded, though the wand/laser pointer was still pointed at him. "I appreciate that, Mr. Stern. Thank you."
The CEO braced himself. "Dave, did you know about this? What did you do?"
Stern sighed. "Like I said, we accidentally filmed one of their members in action. I noticed something unusual and hadn't thought much of it until someone who had seen the footage processed the film further and noticed something...even more unusual."
"What did he notice?"
"Again, Mike, it would not be appropriate for me to say. However, judging from this man's reaction, this footage may be enough to expose their society to the world. I have a suspicion that I know what this society is, and I am fairly certain that the world as we know it will be in for a bit of a shock."
The CEO was now joined by several other executive. "What society is this?"
Stern shook his head and turned to the bartender. "I'm not saying. However, I suspect I know what our Navajo -- sorry, Dine friend is here for. If my guess is right, I know what that thing in your hand is. You're going to make it so we don't remember anything about your people, right?"
The bartender nodded. "I'm afraid so, Mr. Stern. In my trade, I am known as an Obliviator. Rest assured, the procedure will be painless and humane. It will not cause you any harm. However, there's something I need to know first. Who else has seen this footage? We're going to have to plug our leaks there as well."
Stern tensed. "Two extra copies were made of the tape. One was sent to an ornithologist friend of mine who is a student at the University of Phoenix."
Strong Bear nodded. "I've gotten that one. The tape wound up in the anthropology lab. The people there have no recollection of our society. In fact, judging from your comments, you actually witnessed an Obliviation over the telephone and managed to keep your memories. We'll need to add telephone and email checks to our Obliviator training documents."
The CEO threw his hands up in the air. "Who are you? CIA? FBI? James Bond?"
Strong Bear shook his head. "I cannot confirm or deny any of those. At any rate, where are the two other copies?"
Stern nodded. "I had one in my office in Tempe. As soon as I realized what had happened, I destroyed it. Only one other person is aware of your existence, a technician named Isaac Sanders. If you wish to Obliviate him, you may. He is also keeping his mouth shut. Trust me. I convinced him."
Strong Bear fiddled with his wand/laser pointer. "That's not enough, Mr. Stern. Standard policy requires that he be Obliviated. I'm sorry. You are to be Obliviated as well, I'm afraid, though I must confess you deserve knowing the truth as it's obvious you're trying to help us. If this gets out of control, we'll need someone in society at large who's going to help us adapt once we are exposed. However, back to the matter at hand. We've gotten two of the tapes. Where's the third?"
Stern winced. "Mr. Parkman, you're not going to like this."
The bartender grinned. "Mr. Stern, don't worry about it. My society has some rather unusual abilities, as you have probably deduced. We can handle this. Where is the last copy?"
Stern paused. He had no idea how the man would react to this. Yet he deserved to know the truth. He drew a deep breath.
"In the archives of NBC Studios. The footage was part of our company's Super Bowl commercial."
Strong Bear blanched at this. "Super Bowl commercial? Ancestors take me! Has the commercial aired yet? Please, say no! NO!"
Stern looked out from luxury box into the field. There were seven minutes left in the second quarter and one of the teams had just punted. This forced a television timeout, which in turn meant --
It didn't take long. One of the main monitors had been showing the commercials. The Budweiser frogs showed up for a few moments, followed by a Dr. Pepper commercial.
Then came the first shots from Blast. He recognized Jake and Rebecca immediately with the Blast bottle in their hands.
Stern pointed a trembling finger at the monitor and sighed. "There it is."
Strong Bear spun to face the monitor. Sure enough, the shot turned to London. Jake and Rebecca were once again chatting at the railing of the boat. And once again, the bird known as Harry Potter flew through the field of view.
Stern couldn't catch a clear image of the boy in real time. However, apparently the wizard could. The Obliviator let out a shriek of horror. Brandishing his wand -- it was obviously a wand, Stern could tell at this point -- at the crowd, he howled two arcane words.
"Obliviatus maximus!"
A cone of white light issued from the end of the wand and sped off into the night. From Stern's perspective, in the box, it looked like a stream of fireworks. Which was just as well given what it was trying to do. The fireworks could be passed off as non-magical.
The CEO whistled. "What the hell was that?"
The Obliviator then spun and pointed the wand at Stern. Stern raised his hands in self-defense.
"You still need to get everyone who watched the broadcast! Simply erasing the memories of those in the stadium won't help! I --"
The white light flashed, and suddenly Stern had no idea what he had been talking about.
To be continued...