Tsaimath
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DLM, Bk 5, Ch, 31
🕑 Added 2021-12-04 13:33:19 +0000 UTC“Remember, you not only represent yourself on your trip, but you are also moving as my apprentice and, in some ways, heir.” Technica reminded me, as Nisha, Sophia and I were climbing into the plane, after Technica and I had checked one last time that I had everything I might need to treat Nisha’s mother. When we had come down into Technica’s lair, after giving Tanisha and Karen a short explanation and wishing them a nice vacation, Technica had been waiting for us, giving me some last-minute advice. That included some arrangements to contact the Guild in Dehli, who would arrange transportation and such for the duration of our stay.
“I will, you do not need to worry about it.” I reassured her, taking a short glance over my shoulder to make sure Nisha was out of hearing, before pulling Technica into a short hug. “I will not bring shame upon the Guild or you, Mother.”
Her eyes turned a little misty, but the smile on her face was radiant, as she gave a quick squeeze to my shoulder. Without another word, I turned around and climbed the stairs, the silence between us expressing more than words ever could.
“Nisha, you can join us up front.” I told her, after making sure that her stuff was loaded. She was still looking very much confused, the reality of the situation having not yet sunk in. But then, it had only been two hours since her father had called and suddenly, she was on a private, somewhat secret plane that one might expect out of a movie, after being sent off from one of the most powerful people in the world.
“Thanks.” she sounded insecure, her head swiveling as her eyes tried to take in the interior of the plane. It was not quite as futuristic as I could have made it but that changed the moment I led her into the cockpit. There was nothing that looked like what was normal, no instruments, no electronics, just a silvery sphere sitting in front of a pilot-seat. There were a few screens, not installed for the pilot-seat but to give the other people I invited into the cockpit something to do, not that Nisha could tell that the screens had nothing to do with the operation of the plane.
Placing a hand on the sphere, I connected myself to the plane, starting the final check-list, to make sure everything was as it should be. There was a humm, as the generators and electronics fully came to life, allowing me to direct the plane as I would direct my body, Galatea and I joining together to take total control. In many ways, the plane became our body, made for both of us, in ways my biological body never could.
“All is in order, flight-plans have been filed. Contacting local authorities.” I muttered, partially speaking for Sophia’s benefit, partially to pull my body and its systems deeper into the merge.
“All systems green, local authorities confirm and are transmitting data. Moving to take-off.” I continued, as the local flight-authorities, essentially only there to interface Technica and myself with the official air-traffic control off the Island, confirmed that we were free to move as our flight-plan indicated. Take-off was a little complicated, the underground hangar originally made for helicopters, not the massive plane I had created. It took a computer on Galatea’s level to perfectly control the thrusters to get us out, especially when there was a bit of wind outside. Inside the cockpit, I could hear Nisha and Sophia talking, Sophia calming Nisha’s fears, as the tunnel-walls came a little close to the outside-viewports for comfort but soon, we cleared the tunnel and ascended into the open sky.
We quickly reached travel-altitude and I could engage the auto-pilot, so I could move around freely. I could have done so before, using the wireless-connection between Galatea, the plane and myself, but sitting in the pilot’s seat gave me a sense of purpose, focusing my mind on the task at hand.
“Nisha, you can call your father now.” I told her, my mind focusing back on the cockpit instead of the plane itself.
“How? I doubt my mobile has a signal up here.” she asked, clearly not used to travelling in a plane like mine. But then, how could she? My plane was completely unique, merging the abilities of a military transport with the comfort of a private-jet, all powered by Powered-tech. It was an impossible plane, or it would be for everyone but me.
“Give me a moment.” I told her, standing up, which caused her face to morph into shock, an expression that got even more pronounced when I stepped to one of the lockers in the cockpit, pulling out a simple version of my civilian costume, the black suit-lab-coat-combination, complete with silver mask. I also handed Sophia a simplified version of her costume, a simple coat that hid most of her figure and provided a hood and mask to hide her face. Once we both were costumed and concealed, I sat back down, looking at the staring Nisha with an unseen grin.
“Close your mouth, we would not want your father to worry.” I told her, not that her mouth had gaped open, but the incredulous expression on her face would have worried him.
Finding his private mobile-phone had been easier than it maybe should have been, but then, Galatea and I had intruded on Nisha’s phone to start our search, giving us access we really should not have had.
“Yes? Who is that?” the voice we had heard earlier came across the cockpit-speakers, sounding irritated and maybe a little scared. Understandably scared, I had masked the incoming ID of my call to the point that I doubted his phone had displayed any usable information, but I had a reputation to build.
“Nisha, you can simply talk to him.” I told her, preventing the microphones in the cockpit from picking up my voice.
“Dad? I told you, I would call you again:” luckily, she had caught herself, or maybe she had simply decided to ignore the part of the situation I had caused, focusing on her family’s situation.
“Nisha?” Once again, his voice was filled with conflicted emotions, confusion, worry but also relief all vying for supremacy. “Where are you calling from?”
“You can tell him, he will know soon anyway.” I inserted, getting a nod in reply.
“Dad, I’m already on my way, a…” she paused, studying me, “a friend offered to help. When will we be there? And where will we land?” she asked, her questions directed at me.
“We will be landing in Dehli in roughly seven hours, shortly before midnight local time.” I explained, this time letting the microphones pick up my voice and transmit it.
“Who is that?” Nisha’s father asked, before Nisha could relay the information.
“I am commonly known as Metis, Apprentice of Councilor Technica, of the Powered Human Cooperation Guild.” I explained, using the official title, before continuing, “I am also a friend of Nisha. Any further details, especially the reason for my visit, will have to wait until we meet in person.” I explained and for a moment, there was silence as neither Nisha nor her father quite knew what to make of things.
“I see.” her father was the first to continue the conversation, his voice tightly controlled, despite the situation. Sadly for him, there was nothing more I had to say, leaving the cockpit in silence once again.
“Dad, she told me that she can help mother.” Nisha blurted out some excitement in her voice.
“We will discuss that, once you are here.” he replied, and I could almost hear the frown-lines crease his forehead. He was undoubtedly wondering who I was, what I could do and why I was with his daughter. And what my assistance and help would cost him.
As Nisha and her father talked some more, I focused on my communion with Galatea, simulating an operation using Nanites. By the time we got there, I wanted to have a detailed plan of operation, good enough to earn the attending physician’s approval. In many ways, what I had in mind was simple: The plan was to use microscopic instruments, constructed in-situ from nanites, to remove the affected tissue, but that required a lot of precision while working with minimal tolerances and very limited perception. All those problems, I would have to address before we got there, or I was more likely to kill or cripple Nisha’s mother, instead of curing her. That just would not do.
