Tsaimath
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DLM - Bk 5, Ch 10
🕑 Added 2021-09-11 10:27:07 +0000 UTCSometimes, I wondered if living with other humans was worth the hassle they brought. Would it not be much easier to settle in some secret facility, something similar to Technica’s lair, only somewhere without humans other than Sophia around? Maybe at the bottom of some ocean-trench, dug deep into the earth beneath some mountain-range or even on the moon, somewhere I could just focus on my research and not have to bother with others? Especially not with trying to help them, if they did not want the help?
The weeks before the Convention in New York were filled with a plethora of details that had to be taken care of, from the mundane, making sure that the American authorities had no problem with our travel-plans, to the more complicated, the integration of our presence into the greater plans. Things needed to be coordinated, changed, ascertained, all in an attempt to make everything go smoothly. It would not, of that i was certain, but the attempt was there.
And all throughout that busy time, I, like the fool I was, tried to help Tanisha, both in the immediate, physical sense but also to recognise that the path she was on was one that would cause her harm. While I think she appreciated my help when she was drunk and in pain, little of that appreciation was left, once she was sober and in reasonable control of her cognitive faculties. In that state, my advice and attempts to help could have been replaced with white noise, for all the good they did.
Luckily, before either of us could get further than annoy the other, it was time for Sophia and myself to climb into my Chariot to cross the ocean. As planned, we were joined by Technica and Mordred, but also Pheronica and a gaggle of mundane Guild-Bureaucrats, those so-called little people who actually made the organisation function. In some ways, the higher ups of the Guild-Bureaucracy were just as important as the council and just as obscure. Only where the obscurity of the council came from costumes and code-names, their obscurity was based on their apparent interchangeability. For all their differences in sex and body-type, their aura and behaviour made me wonder if there was some sort of Power, a cloning-device or possibly elaborate brainwashing involved. Normal people could not be that dry, of that I was instinctually convinced. Observed data mostly disproved my instinct but it existed nonetheless and Galatea and I had been unable to rule out brainwashing.
Different from the last time, this time it was not just Sophia and I in the cockpit of the Chariot, Technica asked to join us up front, a request I did not want to reject. Not with the progress I had made with my reactions and our general connection. There was still a sense of distance and I caught myself at times sliding back to anger, especially when I came across the name King or images of my father during my research. At the end of the day, the effort was worthwhile, especially the way Sophia showed her approval.
The flight was about as interesting as sitting in front of a screen for some seven hours with nothing happening could be. Certainly, I did not need the screen, instead directly linking into the flight-system, which worked as designed, leaving me with nothing to do. It was what you wanted, but redundancy-concerns meant I still had to keep my focus on the instruments, ready to intervene if anything unplanned happened. Which it never did.
At the end of our flight, at a time when I was partially considering the possibility of reworking the Chariot for supersonic cruise-capacity, we reached the controlled airspace of the United States. Automatic queries were received and responded to and soon, we were on final approach to the city.
While looking down from above on the city affectionately known as the Big Apple, I triggered one of the systems of my Chariot, scattering the thousand eyes of Argus, allowing me to observe everything in a reasonably large area with excellent resolution. That particular system was one I had invested quite a bit of time in during the last few months, as the ability to collect and analyse information was, by far, my greatest strength. Certainly, I had some interesting weapons and my research had far-reaching consequences but in an active deployment scenario, intelligence collection and analysis was my greatest strength. To further that, Galatea and I had expanded the drone-capacity carried and deployed by my Chariot, from a few dozen beach-ball sized drones to a hundred smaller drones, each equipped with ten cameras giving me a wide-angle view of everything going on beneath and around the drone. Those were the thousand eyes of Argus, now floating above the Big Apple. Silently observing... everything.
Once we were on the ground, I made sure that I had the directions to the right hangar, as leaving my Chariot out on the tarmac simply would not do. As I oriented myself, a smile crept on my lips, caused by the realisation that we had an escort and not just any escort, a pair of flyers, guarding our wings now that we were on the ground. My drones gave me a multitude of images from them, allowing me to measure their body to any degree I desired and my connection to the Guild-Databank gave me their identification.
One was Starburst, the preferred public face of the Superheroes of America, the other a relatively obscure Guild-Powered going by the name of Kel. To a degree, the escort was to be expected, after all, Technica was a Councilor, while Mordred and I were both designated students and successors of Councilors.
“Anath, we should get into our new costumes.” I told Anath, who had been in her old costume, just as I had been in my armour during the flight. She nodded and I left Galatea to guide the Chariot into the hangar, while the two of us went into the truly private part of my plane. There, I had prepared two mannequins, one clad in what looked similar to a set of ancient Greek armour, only silver instead of bronze. Its main-purpose was optically, even though it had some protective properties, compared to the strength of Sophia’s Powered body, it was of lesser importance. In order to give her true protection, she would need a full set of powered Armour, similar to what I normally used.
“You want to start with the body-suit.” I told Anath, pointing to a tight, black suit to be worn beneath the armour. There was a small grin on my face, when her face blushed a little at the realisation that there was no underwear included and no way to wear underwear beneath the skin-tight stocking. It was lined to prevent anything from showing, but both of us would know.
As for me, there was no armour as I was not planning to give an aggressive or martial expression, instead I had re-used an earlier idea, merging a women’s business-suit with a scientist’s lab-coat, only including a cowl and mask to hide my features.
I kept the basic form and deep, almost light-absorbent, black, but added some silver trim to lessen the impact of the colour. Apparently, something dark enough to make differentiating depth was unsettling to humans.
Once we were dressed, after sneaking a quick kiss while we were in private, we joined the others, ready to head down the ramp to the welcoming committee. The deliberately obscure nature of the Guild meant that a lot of diplomatic and political rigmarole could be skipped, but some of it had to be observed. After using the cameras, I gave Technica a nod and opened the door, triggering the extension of the stairs at the same time.
The group waiting for us was an interesting one, the rather bright, flamboyant, costumes of the Powered a sharp contrast to the somber, dark suits of the bureaucrats. As Technica descended the stairs, Brightstar stepped forward to shake her hand. That handshake was the agreed upon signal for the rest of the initial group to disembark, in order of seniority, with Mordred leading the way, myself in the middle and Anath bringing up the rear.
Once we were down, we formed up next to Technica for introductions. Standing there, I wondered about optics once more, realising that amongst the four of us, none gave the initial impression one would expect from a Hero, each of us looking more like one would imagine a villain. Technica’s armour, while still mainly Silver, had gained a much darker tone, thanks to my introduction of new materials that increased her durability, Mordred was wearing a customary, dark magician's robe, his head shrouded in magical shadow, while Anath and I both were in black and silver, with masks that gave a deliberately inhuman impression, black with only an eye-slit of glowing light.
Yet, despite our dark apparel, what little of Brightstar’s face was visible under her mask gave us a friendly smile as she greeted us.
“Honoured Councilor, Thank you for visiting my country.” She stepped back, and the massive male figure next to her, clad in a strange leather-like outfit with feathers all over stepped forward, dwarving the armoured Technica and shook her hand, too.
“Technica, it’s wonderful to have you. Would you introduce me to your apprentice?” he asked, his eyes focusing on me and despite my costume, I felt exposed under his piercing gaze.
“Certainly, Bidziil. This is my student and apprentice, Metis.” She turned to me, giving a nod to step forward.
“Metis, this is Councilor Bidzill.” She addressed me, and I shook the giant man’s hand, his whole aura and appearance reminding me that he was the physically strongest being on the planet, his hands able to crush me without breaking a sweat. While the limits of his powers were not clearly measured, what had been measured was enough to send a shiver down my spine, despite us being allied.
“If you don’t mind, we have a bit of a tour planned, before you head to the convention-center.” Brightstar addressed us, following the previously arranged schedule.
Mordred, Technica and I followed Brightstar and Bidzill to the waiting car, while Anath, alongside some of the local Guild-personal, was responsible for unloading the Chariot and having the other passengers debark.
The car-ride was mostly filled with silence, and soon, we could see the Memorial, still a scar in the city-scape, a grim reminder that Humans did not need powers to commit horrible acts of violence.
For once, the dark colours of our costumes fitted the occasion very well.
