Tasha strides across the landscape, an iron-framed tower over one shoulder and an Eeee guide sitting on the other. Lawbringers flank her, carrying loads of their own over the uneven ground to the well sight. It's the third day now of hauling supplies into the somewhat desolate Confederate Zone of the Pit where the first exploratory well will be drilled. Between this and sword practice at the Winged Citadel, the Vartan-hybrid has hardly had a free hour - but at least she gets to spend practice time with Gabriel.
Hakeber has taken up residence in the Citadel as well to further her research, now looking into other odd cults at Tasha's suggestion, including any references to Abraxas that may show up in non-Silent-Ones histories. The young Karnor scholar has even dragged Aaron into the research, although she may just enjoy his company.
"There," the miniature (to Tasha's merged-with-Melchior senses) Eeee points out, adjusting his hard hat and pointing to a large concrete platform with several large bolts rising from it. "You need to lower the tower so the holes in the feet line up with those bolts."
"Understood," rumbles the giant, Melchior. While Tasha's voice may be somewhat deep, it's still obviously female, and young at that -- well at odds with the majestic, masculine appearance of her Titan.
Advancing, Tasha's mind directs the machine it has merged with to the cement platform, taking a moment to study it before her machine hoists the tower from its shoulder and, with both hands and wings stretching rearward to shift its center of balance for more stability, begins lowering the tower on to its foundation.
It takes some adjustment, but within a few minutes the tower is in place. Workers hurry to bolt it down, while the Lawbringers wait to set down their own heavy equipment: parts of the drill mechanism and pumps.
"You're pretty dextrous with this thing," the Eeee foreman on Melchior's shoulder notes. "Titans aren't generally good for detailed stuff."
Tasha withdraws the Melchior to a nearby position, the machine's hands folding across its chest as it watches on. "The Melchior is one of the finest Titans of the Expedition Fleet. As a Titan wholly dedicated to melee combat, it has extremely fine dexterity beyond what most Titans needed. In addition, my nervous system is directly wired to my machine, allowing me to direct it as if it were my own body," Tasha explains via speaker.
"Our own Titans used to be like that," the foreman says with a bit of regret. "Anyway.. on to the next task.." Dexterity means Tasha and Melchior are needed to help place the other elements as well, once the Lawbringers hand them over. It's surprisingly tiring work, even though none of Tasha's own muscles are actually involved. The distant sun is already near the cliffs when construction for the day is called to a halt. The generators come online, and worklights keep the site lit for the technicians and engineers that will be connecting everything up.
Inside the cockpit, Tasha takes a moment to draw herself out of the machine world and rub her face. She never quite gets used to how tiring sustained deep-connection sessions can be; there's something peculiar about being tired for barely moving, she decides. It causes her to recall the Eeee's words from hours back. "Your own Titans no longer allow for direct interface? I admit, the bio-Titans are the Titan design theory group I have the least experience with. I imagine the interface would be similiar to my own machine; perhaps even easier, given the similiar 'materials' involved?"
"Oh, it's more that we have so few of them left now," the foreman notes, looking up from his clipboard. "We can't just build them, after all. The resources needed to develop one just aren't available to us anymore, since the fall of our life dome."
"I'm sorry to hear that -- I didn't mean to bring up an uncomfortable subject," the machine apologizes, its great golden head turning to regard the smaller Eeee.
"Please accept my apologies," the machine adds, head tilting down.
"Ah, no need for that," the man says. "After all, everyone on Abaddon is pretty much in the same situation. Maybe this well will be the turning point though!" He then gets up and spreads his wings. "Now I need to supervise some things down below. Pleasure working with you, miss!"
"Likewise, Mr. Foreman." The great machine inclines its head again, then waits patiently for the man to lift off before it turns and begins striding back towards the city. It's a moderate walk, even for her machine, but Tasha can't justify trying to take off from the floor of the Pit when the uncovered soil and flora might present a fire hazard -- the last thing she needs right now is to start a wildfire!
The other Titans keep her silent company on the walk back to the hangar. Evening is well and truly in play once Tasha parks Melchior back in his berth. Commanding-Hand and his crew swarm over the machines to check for damage or wear from the day's work.
After landing in the deck of the hangar, Tasha walks over and plops her butt down on the Melchior's foot, stretching and yawning cavernously. What a day, she thinks as her arms fall and she leans back, head resting on the composite shin. From drover, to adventurer, to cadet, politician, surveyor, and now constructor. It may not be as glamourous as some of the work, but it sure is rewarding to think I'm helping to create something good here. Busy work, too.
"How was your day?" Commanding-Hand signs to Tasha. The Silent-Ones pilots look even more worn out - but their Titans depend on the physical strength of the pilot, after all.
Tasha lifts her hands and signs, "Tiring but rewarding. I know I don't have any right to complain, given how much work Silent One machines are over mine own, but I'm still worn out from hours of combat training. We're planning an expedition back to Sinai, and we're trying to avoid bringing more personnel than is strictly needed, so several of us must run double-duty as guards. Our instructor says I'm actually rather good at it, so I guess my Titan was right."
"Titans always flatter their pilots, if they do not kill them," the Silent-One signs, waggling his ears, and gestures to an open-backed vehicle where the other pilots are finding seats. "They will go to the Embassy spa. You are welcome to join them if you wish."
"The Wiseman alternates betweeing critique, approval, and affection these days. I love him," Tasha signs back, patting her Titan's leg with a smile on her face. She then pushes off, landing on the deck with a thump of hooves, rising to sign as she walks towards the open vehicle, "I can't turn your offer down. Thank you, Commanding-Hand. I will probably see you tomorrow. Good night, if I don't see you later!"
After nearly falling asleep during the ride to the Embassy, Tasha eventually finds herself back in the spa, getting a massage while surrounded by naked, buff Cheetahs who apparently aren't above towel-whip fights in the bath. The masseuse is very good with his hands (no surprise for a race that depends on them for communication) and Tasha is soon reduced to a state of blissful limpness. "You did well, for a Cadet," Tomorrow's-Hope signs to Tasha from one of the jet-bath tubs.
The rubbing ends up relaxing Tasha so much her wings end up splaying to either side, like a limp feathery towel. She doesn't even seem to register she's been signed at until several seconds later. She signs from where her arm has flopped beside the bed, slow due to using the single hand. "I am always striving to exceed my position and my labels," she insists, then winks. "Thank you, even though I know you are teasing me."
"If I were teasing, a towel and your rear would be involved," the Titan-pilot signs with an ear-wiggle. "Should I be concerned to find you laying around naked with a bunch of feline bodybuilders?" asks the familiar voice of Gabriel from the doorway.
A few of the pilots overhearing this start flexing and showing off, of course.
"I'm strong than I look and I can fly, you would regre-" Tasha's hand freezes when she hears Gabriel's voice; Tomorrow's-Hope can see her eys widen just before she turns to look back. "Didn't I tell you? I grew up around half-dressed Vartans -- this is nothing! At least these men are silent about it!" The cloest wing stretches over and pats Tomorrow's-Hope in example.
"I know Silent-Ones aren't exactly libidinous," Gabriel says, coming over to pat Tasha's butt. "Everything go well today at the work site?" he asks.
The young woman's tail wags at the pat, quite unrepentantly. "The tower and the other things are where they should be. Drilling will commence in the morning, I think. It was mostly hauling work for me, just like growing up," Tasha reports in. "Everything looked OK and the foreman seemed pleased."
"Good, then you shouldn't be needed for more heavy lifting tomorrow," Gabriel says. "Eli wants to talk to us."
"Work calls," Tasha laments with a sigh. She pats the massueses arm, nodding towards Gabriel before she pulls herself up. "Would join me as I get dressed, Captain?" She begins walking towards the locker room, looking back with her ears perked.
Gabriel follows of course. He even holds up Tasha's bio-suit for her. "I think you enjoy all this attention," he comments.
"I'm a socially akward young woman with daddy-issues and body discomfort," Tasha points out as she steps in to her suit, grinning. "You bet I do."
"At least I won't have to give you a back-rub tonight," the Karnor notes with a grin. "I expect Master Frist is going to have us sparring with one another soon as well."
"Aw, no back rub?" Tasha mock-pouts before reaching for her uniform and beginning to dress. "More training, huh? How are you liking using a sword? I know it must seem incredibly backwards for you."
"There's an elegance to it," Gabriel notes. "Something more. A connection with the weapon that you don't get with a firearm." Once Tasha is all zipped up, he offers, "Well, I can rub the other side instead if you like?"
"That'll do!" The young woman leans over to kiss her Captain on the muzzle, not entirely hidden by the dressing room door. When she leans back, she says, "And, I'm glad you enjoy it! I was worried you wouldn't be able to take it seriously. I noticed Eli never locks his door, so I was concerned that maybe you never experienced the dangers we did, in your other life, and I might have been assuming too much that your experiences were like mine."
"Our doors have locks?" Gabriel asks in mock surprise. "It's more likely that Eli is just preoccupied. He tends to forget little things like privacy and hygiene when he's really deep into something."
"He's really a focused man. It's inspriring in a way," Tasha agrees. After adjusting her clothes a bit, she nods towards the door. "We better go see him before we find him nose-down on his keyboard, or half starved."
"Maybe we can drag him to dinner," Gabriel suggests, but doesn't sound very convinced of the possibility.
"We could tell him it's a new variety of Abaddonian wildlife, that'll get him interested," the Cadet suggests as they head on out. Tasha manages to wave to the cheetahs just before they depart.
A walk to the Embassy gets Tasha's muscles feeling firm again, and she may even be thinking about dinner, until she sees the dirty dishes piled up in Zerachiel's room (and makeshift laboratory). The man really needs a maid or a girlfriend. "Ah, you came!" the physicist says excitedly. "I wasn't sure when you'd show up.."
"Wow, Eli, are you also studying how dirty plates can grow in to a civilization?" Tasha asks in an impressed tone as she looks around the room, hands on hips and brows wide. "Given that machines seem to develope a conciousness, I guess it's not too far fetched ... "
"Seriously, man, you need someone to look after you," Gabriel notes, picking up some of the dishes and clutter. "Now, what did you want to tell us?"
"Is it another disaster? Because, I could really use someone else handling those announcements now and then," Tasha insists, grinning as she perks her ears for the news.
"Oh.. I guess it has been a few days since I tidied up.." Zerachiel notes, then shakes his head. "Ah, yes! I think I've cracked the mystery of the toporgic that Tasha recovered!" he says proudly. "It acts as a quantum prism."
"I don't know what that means," Gabriel points out, and looks to Tasha.
"A quantum prisim ..," the young woman repeated, twisting her muzzle and tilting her head. "What exactly is that in a way we'll understand? I don't need to give Harmonia any more reason to doubt her mother's intelligence. It's bad enough she's millions of times faster than I am."
"Well, you know how a regular prism can break a beam of sunlight into a color spectrum?" Eli asks, then doesn't wait for an answer. "The toporgic can dimensionally twist certain forms of electromagnetic energy into other fundamental forces and waves."
Tasha's ears jump forward at the description, the young woman leaning forward."So it acts as a space-time coverter of electromagnetic energy in to various other forms of energy? Are we talking about non-radiological energy? Gravitation?"
"Apparently, yes," Eli notes. "The clue was when you described the behavior of the creatures when exposed to radio waves. I've been bombarding a small piece with various energies and frequencies, and found one that converts to a gravitational field. It's not as elegant as a stator is, but must be using similar principles.."
"Is the coversion happening at useful consumption levels, or are we talking significant and infeasible energy investments?" Tasha asks, folding her arms, head cocking to the side.
"Well, gravity is a surprisingly weak force compared to the others," Eli explains. "Right now, it looks like a kilowatt of power can lift a kilogram of mass, however. At least, using the small amount of toporgic I've been experimenting with. The ratio could be very different for larger pieces."
"It sounds like we'll need to invest in to larger-scale experimentation. Harmonia should be able to do that with her bin and multitude of resources. If we're lucky, we may even be able to try develping a stator prototype. That would given us the possibility of replacement technologies for our aging stator supply without invoking their wrath by trying to repair them." Tash galnces to her mate, and admits, "I'm disappointed the energy returns are so high, though. My dream of shunting my powered armor's power to crystal wings has died before it could begin!"
"Our communications masers operate in the 100 megawatt range, Tasha," Gabriel points out. "Microwave power isn't as onerous as you think to generate. At the very least, this gives us a means of moving heavy loads using our existing technology as the power source."
"It's possible that more energetic sources, like x-rays and gamma-rays, could be converted into other forces," Eli suggests. "Of course, tampering with nuclear forces could be dangerous.."
"I've never been very good with measurements and mathmatics," Tash admits, splaying her ears. "Frankly, I'm glad to just understand what you're both talking about and to not look like an uneducated barbarian! Speaking of which ... " Turning back to Eli, Tasha asks, "So other useful outputs besides gravitation are a possibility, then? Can it be used to create more of itself?"
"We don't know how it's created in the first place," Eli notes.
"It was worth asking, anyway! I'm not even sure where its creators come from, for that matter. The Forbidden Zone may well link to anywhere, and I'm in no hurry to go and find out where." Unfolding her hands, tasha shifts to leaning against the table, using her hands to brace herself and clinking a few plates as she does. "I admit, I'm a little disturbed that these 'crystals' can do what my dream suggests, but there's always the possibility I subconciously made the connection and applied it to a dream. It does suggest we could remodel the Themis-Skoll as shown, if we can recover it. That ought to help give Nora something to look forward to."
"Well, exposure to the toporgic may have unexpected consequences," Eli comments. "Like.. well, subconsciously tapping into an alternate timestream. You have been wearing that piece around your neck for awhile now.."
"I wasn't wearing it at the time, though ... unless ... " Tasha cocks her head the other way, eyes widening. "Unless a me from another dimension was wearing it, and tapped in to me!" She then squints, grinning. "Or, maybe not, aye? Are you suggesting I have to give up my shiny? That's a dangerous thing to tell a Vartan, and I feel fine."
"I think it would be best to leave it with the doctor until he's determined it to be safe," Gabriel says, concern in his voice. "For all we know, the effects can travel backwards in time."
"And we wouldn't want Tasha communing with various incarnations and uncannily similiar variations of herself, now would we? That would be crazy." Reaching under her uniform, the young woman begins fishing out her makeshift necklace.
"Nora isn't enough?" Gabriel asks. Then he blinks and notes, "Oh yeah, there's PC Tasha too. She would leave me bizarre messages.."
"And the Themis-Skoll, Tisiphone, and my inner self," Tasha adds, pausing to tick off her fingers. When she finally has the necklace freem she offers it over to Eli, if not without a moment's hesitation.
"Oh, and Abaddon, if you believe that one," she adds a second later.
"Hmmm," Eli ponders, as he takes the 'gem' from Tasha. "Have you had any episodes or visions or dreams like those since wearing this?" he asks her.
"None that I can remember," Tasha admits.
"I wonder if there's a connection after all then," Eli notes. "Didn't it all start when you started meeting with.. ah.. your future self, as Tisiphone?"
"Well, yes. Well, it started when when I began to doubt myself, but ... But, the part that lead me to the Fenris began with my taking the role of Tisiphone, who also looked like me. Come to think of it, isn't it strange the area is named The Gash of Fenris? I mean, who named it that? The hull designation was buried under all that rock. Also, my inner self always dodges the question of who she is, except that she's 'part of me.' I guess I am certainly a part of me ... " As she replies, Tasha looks increasingly thoughtful, looking down and creasing her brow. "It could be ... There's even Harmonia, a big clock. The symbol of time, where I first picked the shard up."
"I'll try some experiments, and see if I can get some form of energy to convert into time.. somehow," Eli notes.
"If you succeed, you can have the answer before you begin?" Tasha asks, grinning.
"When you say it all like that, it does seem like you're guiding yourself from the future," Gabriel admits. "But there are probably other explanations.."
Glancing to her mate, Tasha nods, but asks, "If 'I' am guiding me, then who guided the 'me' that is guiding me now? Or is it like a series of 'mes' that pick up the role after ... whatever goal they want has passed, and they need a new Tasha to try again?"
"That sounds like you're in a simulation, like.. a PersoCom that's reliving the original's memories, but with the original still monitoring it all from the outside and intervening at times," Eli suggests. Then he pinches himself. "Nope, pretty sure I'm real. But that's an actual type of trauma therapy back on Terra.. but you don't seem to be reliving traumas.."
"I'd prefer a less existential explanation," Gabriel notes.
"Well, she could be a Strange Attractor; someone that falls into key events, somehow. It's well documented among Chaos Mages.." Zerachiel suggests next.
""When all of his feather be from him gone, he standeth here still as a stone,"" Tasha repeats, muzzle twisting. She then shakes her head out. "It's all just too hard to ve certain of. Even if all that is true, it's clear that the other me doesn't want to reveal the full truth. It may be that part of the guiding is me not knowing the full plan, or knowing would disrupt my life by avoiding a future or ... I don't know. It's not as if I'm lacking for major discoveries and goals to accomplish, here, nor the technology to place myself in a simulation. But whatever the case is, it doesn't seem I can know the truth while I live it, s I may as well just press on."
"That would seem best," Gabriel agrees with a nod. "Getting all philosophical and make your mind run in circles."
"The bit about 'Gash of Fenris' is curious though," Eli notes. "Nobody thought to ask the locals about the origins of that name.."
"All bets are off when the gods are real," Gabriel mutters.
"And I've already done that enough already, what with Nora's memories and all the rest I've had to deal with. I've learned to just accept things as they are, and then keep going." Tasha then nods. "I didn't really know enough to think to ask back then. While I did have Nora's download, I hadn't fully integrated it, nor had anything to compare it with. It's possible the founders of the area, who were originally another species -- Khattan I believe -- knew about the crash site and were unable to mount a recovery, naming the area as a kind of memorial."
"Real Khattas, or.. Ark-made ones?" Eli asks.
"I don't know. I've never heard of them being distinguished by record, at least not any I've been exposed to. I only know this much because the High Priestess of Abaddon said that Abaddon wasn't a Lapi female, but a male Khatta," Tasha replies.
"The one you encountered here wasn't a Khatta though," Gabriel notes.
"No, and he didn't seem to know the other one, claiming the Sinai Abaddon was an imposter. Given the Sinai version is a Khatta, then that god is either taking specific appearances, a farbrication, or a god that came to exist early in the post history of the Landing. It's a bit sad for me, since I really did believe in Abaddon." Tasha draws in a breath, then exhales, sighing and shaking her head. "I still do, really. I thought about it a while, and I realized my belief in Abaddon doesn't depend on ... Abaddon, if that makes sense to you. High Priestess Nitsa said Abaddon doesn't need worship, that mortals show faith by living. I believe in conflict as a form of self-betterment, conflict that is positive and creates growth. Which ... does sort of tie in to the whole time-traveling advice theory."
"Well, you certainly do seem to be in conflict with these various entities," Eli notes, rolling the toporgic gem in his fingers. "Which makes me ask: will you seek out Nitsa's Abaddon on Sinai?"
Tasha closes her eyes a moment, then nods slowly, opening them. "Yes ... yes, I think I should. It will be uncomfortable facing Him -- if I can even reach Him -- after all this doubt and confusion. I haven't been very observant lately, either -- I even sold off my holy symbol so we could reach Sheol. At the very least, the High Priestess said the temples are all connected, and there's one in each major city. They should know me, so I really don't have any excuse not to."
"And you're positive that when you met Tisiphone, it was you, and not Nora?" Gabriel asks, sounding a bit disturbed at the notion. "You said she was older than you, and cloaked. If you only saw her face.."
"She revealed her face to me in later meetings, an older me seatd infront of a mural of my life, within the walls of a stone temple -- the stone temple of Abaddon, except with my life replacing the murals. She wore the same face when in spoke with her recently, after everyone expressed concern over the entity that had been providing me advice. She doesn't convey much about herself, other than age, the position of offering advice, having 'once been a part of my mind,' and directing me to find Adam," Tasha answers.
"So she now claims to be separate? I don't suppose you'd be willing to be examined by a Mind or Spirit Mage when you get back to Sinai?" Eli asks.
"She's claimed to be apart and part of me, at the same time. I've inquired several times about her nature, but she's very good at evading the questions while simultaneously redirecting and focusing me on my own self-doubt. She clearly wants to help me refine myself, but Adam is the only goal she's ever stated -- the only interest or sign of being more than a sounding board for self-growth." Tasha drums her nails on the table a moment, senidng the plate stacks clicking. After purising her lips a moment and looking like she had swallowed something foul, she relents, answering, "Alright. Magic doesn't bother me like it used to, but I won't say I'll be completely at ease with it. How will we pay for the attention though?"
"I'm sure they're obligated to test you if you think you're possessed, but I suggest locating an out-of-the-way Mage you can trust. Don't the Amazonians have a Temple of Logos too? Those priests or priestesses should be able to perform Mind Magic of a sort," Eli suggests. "Lightfoot is going with you, isn't he? He knows all sorts of magic users."
Tasha raises a brow at the mention of finding a mage she can trust, but laughs a moment later. "I'll see what I can do. That's really Aaron's department, anyway. I'm sure he can come up with something. That does cause me to wonder, though: what will we do if I am possessed? Or for that matter, contacting myself across time or any other sort of peculair situation?"
"I'm pretty sure magic can only deal with the possession part, but you don't seem possessed," Eli notes. Gabriel rattles some plates, and interrupts the discussion to ask, "When was the last time you ate, Eli? I mean, left your room to eat?"
"Uh.. what day is it?" the scientist replies.
"It would be hard to tell, wouldn't it? What with everything else in my head, and all my head connects with ... " Tasha glances over to her mate, then nods approcingly. "Yes, Eli, you really need to get out of here before you get sick. You don't want to waste all that effort to get healthy again, do you?"
"Right.. you're going to take a shower and put on clean clothes," Gabriel says. "That's an order. Don't make me have Tasha strip you down and scrub you like a cub."
"I learned a lot about stripping and scrubbing from that pack bonding ritual I went through, I can make you as clean and shiny as the truck!" Tasha insists, tail wagging.
"I can manage," Eli claims, and gets up to stagger towards the bathroom. Gabriel starts collecting the debris of past meals, stacking and balancing the plates expertly in his arms.
Tasha folds her arms, observing Gabriel's technique. "You've had a lot of practice plate-stacking, Gabe?"
"I was a dishwasher in college," the Captain of the Fenris (and now Bellerophon) notes. "Needed beer money."
"Really? I think I kind of understand what you're saying, if Nora's memories are right. There's really not that much like your college, or even your dishes on Sinai. Forks, spoons and knives were all new to me when we first met." Smiling, Tasha walks over and begins helping to pick up plates, admitting, "For all the time we spend together, I don't know as much as I'd like to about your life. I think you've probably heard enough about mine to last a few lifetimes?"
"I used to have a crush on the waitress there," Gabriel notes, and winks at Tasha. "Another coincidence, Miss Barwench of the Year?"
Tasha pauses to laugh, then puts her plate stack down and puts her hands on her hips, grinning at Gabriel. "I only worked in the tavern for a few months, at most. It was always when The Rake was in for an extended docking, and I needed the money ... Or, rather, my mother needed cheap labor. Do you think you'ld have still been interested me, if I hadn't been so forward? A half-Vartan? I remember you had never even met a Vartan before."
"Well, things were a bit muddled back at the beginning, but I'm pretty clear on things now," Gabriel says with a wink. "Now, if you could hold the door open for me, I'll take this first stack back to the cafeteria. They're probably running low on plates.."
"Watch this," Tasha readies Gabriel, grabbing her stack and heading for the door. She uses a foot to open it, then steps though, keeping it open with a wing. "I may be a cadet now, but I was at least a lieutenant in barwenching!" She glances over her shoulder and winks. "We better hurry back, or Eli will forget we asked him to leave, and we still have a lot left to do before we can head for Sinai."