"How do we make our money? That's obvious, right? We produce Nuke and sell it,” said Miss Planner with a reassuring grin. "We're not the only ones producing it, of course, but the Nuke we make is of the best quality possible and it's the safest on the market, with the lowest risk of undesirable side effects."

"You don't sell to kids, right?" asked Karen nervously. "Because... kids really do not need any of the problems Nuke brings into their lives."

"Of course not!" exclaimed Miss Planner, her eyes widening in shock. She turned to Nikki.

"We saw some kids earlier today in the lobby," explained Nikki. "But, yeah, their parents probably live here. There are condos on the top floors of the Tower. They're pretty nice, too."

"Oh. Okay, I guess that makes sense," said Karen with a nod. So far Miss Planner had answered every question she posed and given her a simple, reasonable explanation for everything she’d witnessed at the Tower. And her 'Lie Detection' hadn't gone off a single time... yet, anyway.

"So... what's the deal with those people in black robes?" continued Karen, trying her hardest to appear confident and calm despite the churning anxiety and uncertainty roiling around inside her stomach. "Is being psychic some kind of mystical thing for the Chosen Ones?"

"Not so much mystical as spiritual, Karen,” said Miss Planner. "The Chosen Ones believe psychic powers are sacred gifts that were bestowed upon humanity for a higher purpose. Ancient cultures all over the world knew about psychic power. The people who possessed it were known as shamans, prophets, holy people, and many other names over thousands of years. But then the governments of this world decided that we humans shouldn't think about such things. And they destroyed humanity's spiritual heritage..."

Miss Planner paused and took a deep breath.

"...the Chosen Ones' purpose is to protect and preserve that ancient knowledge, what little there is left of it, anyway. That's why you might see some Chosen Ones wearing ceremonial robes or masks. It's our way of celebrating who and what we are. We're fortunate enough to live in a liberal democracy where freedom of religion is recognized as a basic human right... at least in principle, you know?"

Karen thought it over for a moment.

"So... what about Nuke? Is that some kind of sacred medicine?"

"Well, that depends on who you ask," said Miss Planner with a shrug. "The way we like to think about Nuke is... it has spiritual uses, and recreational uses. Just like tobacco. Just because some people abuse it doesn't mean it isn't healthy or useful for others. We work hard to educate the community about the dangers, but we don't go out of our way to police anyone's behavior."

There was something about that explanation that didn't sit well with Karen. It was a little too clean. It was the kind of overly rational, yet conveniently incomplete explanation she would expect to hear from a politician who just got caught cheating on his spouse.

"Is that really how it is? Does everyone here feel that way?" asked Karen quietly, staring at the ground in front of her shoes.

"It really varies, Karen. Some people here do, yes," replied Miss Planner, smiling kindly and shaking her head sadly. "The thing is... I've seen Nuke bring so much happiness into peoples' lives and the world around me that there is no question in my mind that what we're doing here is helping society, ultimately. But of course we're only one small part of a larger picture, and it does sometimes get ugly."

Yeah. That was putting it mildly. The world wasn't ready for drugs that gave people psychic powers. Nuke was destroying society from the inside out.

Miss Planner’s answers never really went beyond the edge of the truth, and she glossed over key details to the extent of leaving them completely unaddressed. It was all very deliberate. But Karen didn't need or expect complete transparency from someone working for an organized crime racket.

"Okay," said Karen with a deep, resigned sigh. "Is this whole thing, y'know, legal?"
"Legal... you're asking if producing and selling Nuke is legal? You betcha!"

"It's legal because you sell it as a spiritual medicine?”
"Nope. There's no law on the books that forbids the possession of, distribution of, or even production of Nuke. If there was... that'd be the end of our business model, I'm afraid. Although the Chosen Ones would certainly continue to exist regardless. And Nuke would most certainly continue to be bought and sold illegally anyway. That's just reality."

Miss Planner laughed gently, and her face lit up with a kind of innocent warmth. Karen couldn't help but smile too, in spite of herself.

The little blonde boss might be a manipulative snake, but she was a likable manipulative snake. The way she'd explained things was informative, yet shallow, reasonable, yet disingenuous. She'd clearly had this conversation hundreds of times before and her words came out of her mouth as naturally as carbon dioxide.

"So, Miss Planner... I just had one more question about your... uh... business... or, erm, organization," said Karen. "And I understand if you can't answer it."

"Of course, Karen. Whatever you want to know."

"To your knowledge, are the Chosen Ones involved with gang activity? Yes or no."

"That's a good question, Karen," answered Miss Planner without batting an eye. She looked thoughtful for a moment, as if deep in concentration, before continuing calmly. "The Chosen Ones provide a safe place for people of all walks of life to develop spiritually. We teach them how to live in harmony with nature, with themselves, and with all the people around them. We don't turn away people who need us. Our organization exists to help everyone. All of humanity. Even gang members. We are the first and best opportunity many have to change. To grow as people."

"That's... really cool of you," murmured Karen, trying her hardest to appear genuine. Her stomach hurt. There was an internal voice yelling and screaming and crying at the back of her brain that told her not to be nice, that Miss Planner was a crook who belonged in jail... but getting angry wasn't going to improve the situation one bit. It was what it was. The Chosen Ones weren't going anywhere. And neither was Nuke.

"I think so too, Karen," replied the little blonde woman. "I hope I've helped you see things from our perspective, at least a little. Now... I hate to break up the nice talk, but I really must be getting back to work here.”

"Oh. Sure thing. Yeah, of course," said Karen with a forced smile, rising slowly from her seat.

"Feel free to visit anytime, Karen," offered Miss Planner with a warm smile and the same innocent tone that sounded so sincere but wasn't. "You have my card, right? That's my personal cell number, email address, and office voicemail. Don't be a stranger! Maybe we could have another heart to heart talk some time?"

Karen nodded numbly. She had no choice but to accept the little blonde woman's polite and overly enthusiastic handshake when she finally rose to her feet. The whole exchange felt scripted, choreographed. Like one of Rex's inane puppet shows or something.