DLM, Bk 6, Ch 2

By the time Sophia had taken the long tunnel from our warehouse to the primary underground complex beneath the powerplant, I had managed to finish up everything with Nisha and see her off. After a quick check that everything was as it should be, that the robotic guards were ready and the hundreds of security-cameras were watching over all possible approaches, I made my own way down, using an elevator hidden in the walls next to my office.

Stepping out of the elevator, I had to smile at what Sophia, Galatea and I had accomplished during the last two years. Up above, the power-plant was an impressive accomplishment, both the actual technical details and the logistical feat that had been necessary to build the facility within two years- But here, in the underground complex that was to become the center of my power, we had gone even further. Instead of having to renovate an old bunker, we had been able to dig the tunnels ourselves, using robots to do the lifting, their tireless efforts allowing Galatea and me to accomplish the impossible.

No words of greeting were exchanged between Sophia and myself, we simply came together in a tight embrace, a kiss sharing just how much we had missed each other. Having her back in my arms after three weeks of absence made me realise just how much I needed her contact. Without her, my personal contact with other humans was incredibly limited, yet I did not dare to make new contacts, mostly due to a distaste for finding friends while projecting a lie. And the truth was something I simply could not share.

Even Nisha had been told that I had a new public persona, something that raised an eyebrow. That my new persona, Catherine Alleyne, had a few years history and the company she worked in, TitanTech, had been established for just as long might have raised more eyebrows, but I had never told Nisha. She might have investigated, realising that even Diana Hunt had not been anything but a mask I could take off at will, I had never tried to monitor her in that way.

Burying my face in Sophia’s hair, ignoring the eau-de-airport that still clung to her, the smell of far too many people in a far too small aluminum-can flying through the sky, I felt myself relax. She was here, the plane had not crashed, Isleen had not managed to get Sophia to stay, nothing bad had happened. It was one thing to see her on surveillance-cameras, or to track her travel electronically, but having her in my arms, feeling the warmth of her body, her smell filling my nose, that was an entirely different thing.

“Honey, I’m home.” Sophia softly muttered, holding me as tightly as I held her. Her words managed to elicit an amused snort from me and I pulled back a little, so I could see her face.

“Welcome home, love. Would you like a bath, dinner or…” I replied, getting a laugh in return, as she recognised the formulaic response from a series she liked.

“I wouldn’t mind a shower, especially one with you in it.” the grin on my face told me all I ever needed to know about her desires and for the next hour, there was very little serious talk, as the two of us greatly enjoyed the adjustable shower, with enough water-pressure to pressure-cut sheet-metal or give a pleasant massage to a Powered like Sophia. Not that I would ever direct that setting to myself, I liked my flesh attached to my bones and my bones unbroken.

Once we were done, we curled up on the sofa, with a couple of snacks to tide Sophia over before dinner.

“So, how did your visit go?” I asked, slowly reestablishing my mental presence. There were a few things, during which I almost completely disengaged my mental connection to Galatea, limiting my mental processes to the biological, not even trying to outsource some of my thinking. It was something I had noticed over the last two years, that it was becoming easier and easier to treat the sensory information my biological senses gathered as just another form of data, to categorize and analyse according to established routine, just like Galatea and I commonly analysed the information gathered by the many cameras. Doing so was easy, efficient but also impersonal and somewhat distant.

“It was great. Isleen sends her regards.” there was a moment of pause, before she let out a laugh, adding, “Both of them, actually.” She was quite amused at my insistence at calling both Glenna and Kaley with their shared nom-de-guerre.

“How nice of them. How is your brother?” I asked, noticing a new mail, addressed at the box I used for social communication, which mainly meant Tanisha and Karen. Other than Nisha, they were the only friends from Accord Island who I remained in contact with, as Ru Shi had been one of the victims on the Island.

“Eh, he’s fine. Still hasn’t managed to man up and pop the Question, though I don’t even want to consider what it’s like to date someone who can see the future. Talk about lack of privacy.” The grin on Sophia’s face made me hope that she was joking, as her privacy was something I violated routinely, mostly due to a combination of paranoia, a desire to keep her safe and my deep-seated curiosity. Granted, I respected her privacy more than the privacy of anyone else in the world, but I had doubts that she would accept such reasoning.

“Speaking of, Tanisha and Karen got engaged.” I relayed what Nisha had told me, while reading their mail. Curiously, the subject was actually related.

“And they asked us to be in their bridal party.” I added, not quite sure if the two of them had been drunk when making that decision. Had Tanisha’s drinking problem resurfaced?

“That’s nice of them, it’ll be great to see them again. Is Nisha invited, too?” Sophia twisted, cuddling a little closer, looking at me expectantly.

“I think so, she mentioned the engagement to me, I would assume that she is invited, too.” The date mentioned was months away, giving us all more than enough time to plan. After putting a notice down for the date, and sending a reply that Sophia and I would attend if possible, I continued to go through other messages and project-planning. There were a few experiments I had planned to run and those needed some serious planning-time. Now that the powerplant was finished, I finally had time to fully focus on our base and my projects.

“The younger Isleen sent another message, something about the canvas showing the Heart of Victory, the flag of the New King being broken and new colours coveting the ways of old. You know how their prophecies are, they are weird, cryptic and only make sense once they already came to pass, if then.” Sophia added and the instant she mentioned Isleen and her prophecies, I felt a sudden headache. The words, once more, made no sense, prompting me to add them to my usual data-processing, letting Galatea have a crack at them. Maybe she would notice something, or I would get an idea at some point.

“Wonderful. How are things over there?” I let out a sigh, thinking of Europe. Western Europe, the core-countries of the old European Union, had been expertly manipulated into joining the Europa Magna project, the destruction of Accord Island, Scourge-Attacks, propaganda and collaborating politicians working together to push the idea through at record speeds. It had only taken them a year to unite their Powered Law Enforcement, all under one banner, coincidentally the banner of the Golden Eagle and their efforts to unite all government function under one executive was going quite well. There was massive opposition, certainly, but from what I could tell, a good half of the opposition was controlled, a sock-puppet that could be used to discredit other opponents, especially by linking opposition-groups to nefarious dealings. To all analytics, manipulation of public opinion and a change of cultural norms was well underway.

In some ways, I even had to respect their tactics, there were no grand, sweeping changes, instead it was all clad in a veil of benevolence, a series of small, gradual steps some of which had been initiated before I had been born, coming together. Not all of them, but more than enough of those small changes had added up to shift the societal trajectory massively. And they were building momentum, to the point that pushing back would be difficult.

Letting out a sigh, I settled in, listening to Sophia and her direct observations. They were far less broad, compared to sifting through hundreds of thousands different sources, trying to form an accurate picture of events. It was difficult to do so, with thousands of actors, most of whom were actually unwittingly aiding the grand scheme of things, especially when I needed to identify who the active actors were and decide what to do about them.

Because of one thing I was certain, I was not ready to let the Scourge and those who wielded it get away with their actions.