The last thing Tasha remembers from the previous night was seeing Raehab carrying Harmonia's avatar off over his shoulder, and a vague recollection of trading conspiracy theories. Her head is throbbing and her fur is sticky where she had her head down on the bar, where she apparently slept all night.. or however long it's been. There's also an annoying, repetitive tone drilling through her skull, which she eventually realizes is the message alert from her data pad.
Tasha fumbles towards the pad, a favorable description of what might less charitably be called angry and random pawing. Eventually she finds the pad and, having ample familiarity with the device by now, is able to tap through the confirmations to get it to talk to her without looking at it -- or for that matter lifting her head. That would be asking a lot right now, her head is killing her.
"Tasha," she croaks, in case she has to reply to something or someone.
The messages are text only, so the pad uses synthesized voices that don't quite match up with those of the authors, but are close enough for identification. "I should have the first probe assembled in two days," not-quite-Fred recites. "After testing, I'll see if we have enough leftovers to build the others. We don't have a lot of computational hardware to spare for disposable tech. We really need to plan out and get a local semiconductor factory built. Not exactly high-tech, but it would be a start."
The second message uses an older, Eli-like voice. "Titanians are in town. Hitching a ride back. Niss had some input on things."
"Hoookay," the Cadet breathes, shifting so that her arms fold over her head and muzzle than under them. The probe information is about what she could expect; she knows their resources are limited. That Eli is back in town and returning is very good news indeed, though she's less certain about the Titanians. After a moment of sludge-flow speed reviewing, she decides that she she probably bite the bullet and go meet with the both of them. "Any ... more?"
"End of messages," the pad recites in it's usual androgynous voice. "Do you wish to send replies?"
"Uh-huh." Pushing herself up, Tasha feels like she's made of slowly rotting garbage that would just as soon break apart and flow back on the counter as rise up and be productive. But she has a job, and feeling like garbage or no she pushes herself to do it.
"Fred first: H-- Okay. Planning here, thinking orbital bombardment. Iron rocks. High energy. Could do from deep space, too. Better chance to avoid retaliation. Raehab thinks no stators in K-hem; no spinning. Send me time frame; may do assault myself. Datapad; next reply."
"Eli now: Are you near Tower or Pit still? Can pick you up, heading to Mauler anyway. I am on Harmonia. We can discuss Niss and new danger in person. Datapad; send. Done."
"Query: Should second message be sent via local transmission, hyperspace relay, or both? Hyperspace relay will incur a significant delay for transmission and reply," the pad asks.
"Oh, they haven't landed? Uh, send it through local when Mauler pop out of whatever-space. Notify me when message sent, again when ship make planetfall. Eli will probably answer before then anyway." Tasha sucks in a deep breath, closes her eyes, then exhales and pushes herself up. It hurts every bit as much as she expected, but she grabs her datapad and trudges torwards the exit anyway. Time to clean up.
"This device does not have long range sensors," the handheld device notes, sounding a bit cheery. It always sounds a bit cheery.
"I meant get Harmonia to do it," the young woman grumbles. Her datapad isn't the smartest of electronics. "And have her send things. Just, uh, send her everything and she'll figure it out. I am going to clean up." She doesn't know why her datapad needed to know she's cleaning up, save that she's in a default mode where normal conversation is just easiest on her brain.
"Muting notifications until reset to active mode," the pad responds. So, it does at least seem to realize that 'cleaning up' means 'do not disturb'.
With that out of the way Tasha heads for her quarters, or what acts as her quarters when she's on board and is presumably empty space when she isn't. "Harmonia, form a shower off my quarters. I need one. Send a fetch-bot to get my clothing from the hangar."
It takes some time before a door appears in one of the walls, and Harmonia doesn't respond otherwise.
That's weird ... But Tasha is too headachy and groggy to give it any deeper thought. She pushes in to the shower and immediately starts undressing. Her plan is to get a shower, change clothes, then sit on the bridge and continue to work and coordinate on the problem at hand until the Mauler shows up or she's needed planetside.
Harmonia has a very limited supply of potable water.. so the shower doesn't use any. Instead it sprays particles of progmat to mimic water. While it does feel liquid, it doesn't really feel like water, since nothing actually gets wet. It also tingles, since the micromechanical particles are physically scouring for dirt and oils, which means they crawl around until they've reached their carrying capacity and then fall free.
It works. At the moment, it's all Tasha cares about. She is nothing if not used to suffering through hangovers, though she sees considerably less of them these days. Still, she decides, it was worth it just to end a dark chapter in Raehab's life. While she hasn't felt like she's done much for anyone lately that gesture -- personal, powerful, emotional -- gave her a sense of having accomplished something good that the whole of her long range, long term, violent and complicated efforts could not.
It's only a few minutes before she's done and dressed and then she's off to the hangar for a meal and then off to work. Like Gabriel, she's been leading from the rear line, seeing how it feels and forcing herself to accept a slower, more strategic view of the situation and the wider view that comes with it. It's educational.
A lot of what Tasha picked up by way of supplies was prepackaged - especially sandwiches, since she could eat them anywhere, at least once she figured out how to remove the packaging (at least the few sweets she picked up had the decency to use edible wrapping, but that's likely because they were Confederate made). There's also 'instant' coffee, which just requires boiling water, which is something well within Tasha's cooking capabilities. She didn't think to get much in the way of traditional hangover remedies however.
And so she ends up with coffee and -- after struggling with a sandwich containerss to the point of seriously considering the use of ship's industrials -- two sandwhiches and a small pile of Confederate snack bars. These she conveys to the bridge. All in all, having slightly more than MREs to eat feels like a triumph.
The bridge is in 'screensaver' mode, showing the infinite clockwork theme. The connection after the arm links up to Tasha's neural studs also seems to take a moment longer than usual. "Good morning, Tasha," Harmonia greets once things sync up.
"Hello Harmonia," Tasha greets her ship as she settles back in to the command chair, eyes closing now that she no longer needs to endure the burden of vision. "You're distracted. Too distracted for work?" A solid excuse to avoid work wouldn't be unwelcome the Cadet decides; she could just as soon take a nap.
"Avatar emulation is using significant resources at this time," the system replies, sounding a bit embarrassed by it. "Analytical functions are still available, however."
A little grin appears on Tasha's face. "I hope you're having fun, at least. I know he is." She lifts a hand and waggles it at the screen she knows is there and so her mind's eye erupts in her preferred mix of the external world, core tactical sensors, and mission project work. It's as close to an office as Tasha has ever had, or more accurately, made use of. "Fred replied. Still working. Eli is returning; the Mauler is going to pop out of Titanian-space sooner or later, but you know that because I mentioned it earlier." She's still a bit out of it. "Since we've got the attack in hand, lets think about negotiation methods and ways to secure ourselves if that happens."
It isn't clear just when Tasha fell asleep in the command chair, or how long she was unconscious (or indeed if Harmonia had anything to do with it). Her hangover is more of a 'parched' feeling now, when she's woken by direct cortical stimulation and a matching chime.
The young woman blinks awake, reflexively sitting up and then reaching for her canteen a moment later when the dryness hits her. It takes a moment of sitting, sipping, and reviewing before she has the moment in hand. "Play incoming message," she says rather than thinks.
"I'm on the ground," Zerachiel says. "Should I wait for you or contact Gabriel for pick up? Or just catch the train?"
The hybrid stretches. "I see you," she reports in the strained reply that comes with a body-wide flex. "Readying the basket now. I'm going to want to meet the Titanians, so you can eitehr grab the basket after I touch down and after we talk or you can come with me." She drops back in the seat and pushes herself up, yawning and rubbing her eyes before hunching forward. "Welcome back, too, Eli. I'm sorry you had to return to this."
"Oooooor, no, wait the basket won't reach. It looks like it's me and Mel, then. You might have to take the train. Sorry, Eli." Tasha hrugs, though of course he can't see it. "Things have been hectic. I've been up here for almost a week now. I'm actually doing office work."
"I suppose I can survive a train ride," Eli replies. "I'll have to transfer at Expedition City."
"It's not so bad," Tasha ssures the man. "I do it all the time after worse trips. I'll ahve Harmonia fabricate you something to cover your ears and bring you some snacks." Tashs sucks in another breathm exhals, then shifts to the edge of her seat. "Well it'll be a bit of a flight, so I'll leave it to you whether you want to wait for me, take the train early, or meet with me and take the train later. I can fit you in Mel, if you want. Up to you."
"Snacks?" Eli replies. "That could be worth waiting for, and I think I'd like to stretch my legs a bit. It's been awhile since I've had real gravity to work against. I'll stick close to the airfield and watch for Mel."
"Then see you 'soon'. Tasha out." The arm retracts from her head and the Cadet rises, heading for the exit. "You heard us, Harmonia. Tell old Raehab I'm leaving and that he can leave when he's ready after the basket returns. Just drop him off near the Pit when you're close by. He can eat my rations if he needs to."
"Getting rid of him may take some convincing," Harmonia reports, but doesn't elaborate while the walkway conveys Tasha back to the hangar. Since the basket is kept in the lower hangar, Melchior will need to be moved to the elevator platform.
"Why, don't like having him around?" Tasha teases, the grin returning to her face. "In another life you might have had him around all the time." It's a bit of a walk to her Titan, but soon the Cadet is on board and exchanging one neural connection for another.
After she gets comfortable she greets her Titan with, "Hi Mel. Looks like weire heading to Gateway airstrip. Go ahead and plot the route while I walk us to the basket." And off the Titan goes.
"You have never taken me there before," Melchior notes. "Is it an interesting location?" There isn't much to do once on the elevator but wait for the minute or so it takes to descend.
"It's the site of Gateway Tower, the Sifra's interplanetary transportation device -- or what's left of it." The tower brougt to mind and the imagery forwarded to Mel's mind, something she'd learned to do in greater fashion as a side effect of allowing their two minds to coverage so closely. What once had taken concentration has gained a reflexive edge, something she assumes is a byproduct of the linkage, some sort of leftover from the process. "There's a small town, the airstrip, the mages' camp annnd ... Well, the train depot is neat too I suppose." The points of interest are pushed to Mel as she mentions them, all from her own memory of them. "It's also where the Dainty Mauler lands. The last time you were there, you weren't active."
"I am glad that the bulky disguise is not needed this time," the Titan notes. A few minutes later, they are riding the Picnic basket, which should get them nearly half-way to their destination. It isn't as far the basket could theoretically go, but Harmonia would have to put out progressively more maser power due to beam spread over distance, to the point where the radiation could be problematical.
Given they have some time, Tasha asks her Titan, "So what do you think of how I'm going about Katha-hem? I think the space-strike has a lot of advantages and doesn't risk people, doesn't need us to get in his range and, really, what is Katha going to do? He can't move, it probably can't even retaliate at that distance, and if we're far enough out he'd have problems even targeting us -- or so Harmonia tells me. She also told me it migth actually try to negotiate. What do you think?"
"How comfortable are you with assassination?" is the machine's reply. "If you feel it is a necessary tactic, then there is little reason not to follow your first-strike plans. If you feel that there may be information to gain from a conversation, or that even Katha-hem deserves a chance to defend its existence, then negotiation after a 'warning shot' is a good alternative. You believed Balthasar deserved a chance to be more than it was created to be, after all. The first-strike would have the least chance for being emotionally hurt however, as you would still know nothing to help you identify with the enemy."
Tasha's face scrunches up at the answer. It's certainly a very thought provoking answer, she decides, and not at all what she expected. "Well," she begins, not having quite considered her choice to be assassination so much as some mix of caution and a much-belated retaliation strike. Adding assassination to her list of sins along side genocide isn't exactly comfortable; she briefly marvels at the power inherent in the choice of words before she goes on. "I'm basing it off of his-- its behavior towards us. It has attacked us three times, each time with the intent to destroy us -- or some equivilent. It has not attempted communication at all; even the Berserkers tried to negotiate and I still don't know if I should have listened there. The Source at least spoke to me. And if I compare it to Blackwings and Warloq, both of them were less of a danger to me and the JEF than Katha-hem's actions have been. I feel like giving it a chance is, um, unfair of me. Naive? But ... " She grunts, shifting her
head on to a hand and frowning. "Now I'm curious what it'd say. Now I feel like I have some obligation to talk. When did I start chosing murder over talking, anyay?"
"The motivations of Katha-hem are still uncertain, which would be critical to fully understanding its actions," Melchior notes. "And by putting things into a more familiar moral framework I hope you will view the options accordingly, as the fallout from your choice could affect how you are perceived by Adam, assuming your moral character matters at all. You have only Lord Yama's input to go by, which is at best second-hand. There may be more information within the book translation, however."
"See that bothers me," Tasha points out, which comes with actual pointing towards the front of the cabin. "I'm supposed to be the right kind of person, right Mel? But I'm also not supposed to ask anything of Adam. I'm supposed to be 'natural'; be myself. Or something like it. Harmless, I guess. Or valuable? Like a resource. Whatever Adam wants or doesn't want, I feel like I'm being judged, and at the same time, supposed to not want anything from Adam. The more I think about that, the more I'm not sure what to make of it or if I like it. But then I think, if it were someone new coming in to the Bellerophon, I'd want to evaluate them in the same way." Her head shakes. "Anyway, Katha-hem. So I have to make a choice and be evaluated for reasons I'm not sure of, all the time weighing that against the safety of this world, the JEF and myself. If I change my choice to get Adam to like me -- and we don't know if making choices to please Adam would please Adam because then I'd be lying somehow --if
if those choices hurt the JEF, then who am I working for? Why help Adam when I can't need Adam? Does this make any sense?"
"Religion is complicated," Melchior notes. The big door of the Picnic Basket begins to open then, and they are clearly still at altitude - but launching from up high ultimately uses less fuel than launching from the ground. "People change. It is one of their defining features. To expect someone not to change is therefore illogical. If I were to choose what would be judged, it would be moral quandary itself, as this seems to exemplify why the Progenitors abandoned their creations. Some made a decision, others made the opposite one, and some removed themselves from having to make a choice."
The Titan moves to the edge; the sense of standing over a monumental drop striking Tasha as entirely too relevant and metaphorical for her taste. "But there's been suggestion that I shouldn't worship Adam or see him in a religious way. We don't know what Adam wants, or even if I ca change my behavior in any way that he'd approve of if deciding to change or just acting a way he'd prefer wouldn't be the same as doing it because I chose to all along. And if I favor Adam's choice over another one, and I'm wrong, I'd be guilty of following Adam rather than the JEF or even myself." Tasha shakes her head; it is complicated. "So you're saying the Progenitors abandoned us because we have moral, uh, quandaries? Because it sounded like Adam maybe didn't and that the Progenitors didn't used to."
"I am suggesting that they themselves suffered from such quandaries, otherwise they would all have behaved the same," Melchior clarifies as his engines heat up. "The ability to act against one's moral choice, or to choose morality over what one really wishes to do, are signs of higher sapience. The actual actions involved may not matter, only that one has the ability to examine them."
"Well if that is all it takes then I am well prepared, because I've been thinking about all of this endlessly since I started this crazy journey." Without waiting longer than necesssary, Tsha directs the Titan to proceed forward and ready its flight surfaces. At the same time they're prepared -- with precision only an augmented organic mind could manage -- she steps the machine off and they're away. The engines roar, the wings catch the air, and it's all so very procedural in Tasha's mind. The sense of procedure is somewhat new, a change in Tasha; her repeated bouts with deep connectivity has made her interactions with the neural link reflexive. Familiar. "So they changed and now they're all doing whatever they want. That probably doesn't thrill Adam, does it? But it also means Adam might not think like they do. We do. Or Adam's moral compass is himself alone. So, then it'd be what Lord Yama said: "It will be your task to understand them." It's the understanding, maybe that's what Adam's lookin
g for because he cannot or will not?"
"When you were younger, did you ever have a moral quandary?" Melchior asks. "That is, did you actually analyze or weight your choices and their potential consequences? If my models of developmental psychology are accurate, then you likely did not. You learned them as you matured. According to your findings, the Archons all began as identical beings, at least to their parent, and then diverged. They matured. This is possibly what Adam cannot understand on his own."
"So he needs a proxy, which seems to be me. Or might be me." Tasha rubs her nose. It's nothing she didn't know or at least suspect, but she doesn't think she ever stated it so clearly before. "Figure them out and-- Well I guess we'll come to that. Maybe. I'm curious why Adam coudn't see this coming and what Adam is like. Is Adam an AI, created for a purpose? Did he just come in to being without a society to explain things? Is he a proxy of the Waybuilders, or one of the Waybuilders? We have heard he comes from another universe, that he or all of them are exiles for some reason. Maybe he's too tied to where he came from and doesn't understand this place; maybe the Archons were closer to here, or made from here, like the Ogdru-hem." And the she shrugs. "I guess that means Adam might not care either way as logn as I thought it all through. Well, I'll give the nasty old starfish a chance."
"It is possible that Adam is of a more deterministic nature, such as an AI," Melchior suggests. "As such, the diversification of his offspring might be seen as the result of a flaw or contamination. In the latter case, reconnecting with such may introduce that contamination to himself. As you say, he would require a proxy to explain that the corruption is not the result of a flaw, but a result of the purpose of the Archons."
Tasha nods slowly, it makes sense to her. "And he'd have to trust the proxy, which is why the proxy has to be evaluated." She bites her lip; put that way it does feel like some sort of honor, if just the honor of being the best part from a warehouse of similiar parts. At worst she's a hand-picked scanner, at best a well regarded example of organic life. If she's still acceptable, that is. "And maybe you're here to help me understand Adam. I bridge out and you bridge in."
"If our surmise is correct, it would also matter that you are not a creation of a particular Archon," Melchior suggests. "You should have no bias or favoritism in that regard." Terrain data is displayed, and the final course plotted to use a minimum amount of fuel, so that there will be a reserve left for the return flight, which will be more costly.
"Should, but, what Vartan would think badly of Horus? Eve a half of one like me. Eve reminds me too much of myself and so we'll never get along." She grins, then taps the side of her muzzle. "Like Nora I guess, but worse and godly. Uh," she blinks, " ... godlier? Or less. Gods, Nora and I are such a mess." She mentally confirms the trip and off the machine goes, cruising with a cursory amount of input from her. "Back to Katha-hem, I'll try to talk. Just once. If it attacks us again -- or ignores the attempt -- that's it. It's gone."
"How do you propose to enter communications?" Melchior asks as the timer counts down to landing. "Via dreams again?"
"I was thinking using patterns in electromagnetisim or -- if we can do it -- gravity. We really don't know how smart it is, or how it thinks, but we do know it's aware of those channels. So then we'd sent it a message, a pattern in what we know it's listening for. Maybe we could send it a copy of its own presence, like a repeat of its patterns and emissions, to say, 'hi we know you're there,' and then send things like coordinates, simple images, and things like that. Maybe throw in the math behind an orbital or deep space strike against it, to really make it pay attention. Then tack on a reply frequency, approach vector, or something like that. We should see if it can talk in words. If I can get close enough maybe I can talk to it by its 'doorstep', through the Source's bridge. Or we could try magic and skip all that."
"Do you have any reason to believe it is familiar enough with magic to be able to influence such a link?" Melchior asks. "Have you determined that gravitational interaction is how it took over Balthasar then, since that seemed to be the Titan's primary interaction method?"
"It's mostly just my best guess based on everything we know and everything I don't think I know about all these methods. I'm not Eli, or Fudg-- Neesa. I know just a little bit, but I think it'senough. We strongly suspect it's here to observe, so why not wave a talon infront of the direction it's looking? A talon holding a gun?" Tasha holds her left arm up, forming the bent-finger, raised thumb, extended pointer mock of a firearm which she points forward. "It won't be a scan. It'll be an obvious pattern directed right at Katha-hem. And it will be both a warning and invitation."
"What are your contingency plans if it reacts in a way you did not anticipate?" Melchior asks next, but in a tone that suggests of course you do not have plans yet, since you just decided on this course of action, therefore I am planting the suggestion that you think of some.
"Uhhh," begins Tasha, who scratches at her head, " ... probably the completion of the original plan. I'll have Harmonia, or Belle or just everyone and everything we have ready attack immediately. We'll use the Markers to protect the contact -- that's us -- and we'll probably give the Titanians a 'go for it' message if they're still around. Then we continue to attack until it or we are gone. If it tries to escape, we try to track it, but if it attempts a exit from Sifran space we may as well just let it go, try to figure out where it was heading to in case that's important."
A pause, then Tasha adds, "If the unexpected action sin't hostile just strage we'll work it out from there," after a moment of thought.
"That seems reasonable," Melchior notes, then announces, "Five minutes to touchdown. We are being radar-scanned, but other methods may also be in use that I cannot detect."
"Speaking of dealing with large and dangerous problems," Tasha remarks, shifting her head to her right hand and staring at the zoomed image of the Titanian vessel. "Gabe thinks they might turn on me, you know. Decide I'm too dangerous, like one of their devices. Maybe kill me or, I don't know, what do they do with a person if they don't kill me? Stuff me in a vault somewhere? But anyway, he's worried, and now I am too. I wondered why they were helping me, and I wonder if Bumper actually likes me or is humoring me. They never meant me to actually use the Dark Horse, did you know that? I think it's caused them a huge problem with the others and they're working out how to fix it. I think maybe the Niss helped me get that ship somehow."
"The Niss are a large unknown," Melchior notes. "As their sole chosen contact, that uknownableness may be transferred to you by others. Previous to that contact, did the Titanians seem to 'have you figured out' as it were?"
The young woman considers that, frowning all the while. "I'd day they thought I was fun but harmless. Maybe an oddity? Curious, so they humored me because I was something interesting to fill their voyages?" Her shoulders roll in a shrug. "But then I started asking questions and talking about what I was doing. They learned about my 'power,' the one the Source gave me, and made use of it. Then Bumper offered me a ship out of the blue, except I think she expected I'd die trying to fulfil my side of the bargain and Captain Rushfighter said they never expected we'd get the Dark Horse to work. So now I don't know. I thought they were my friends, but maybe I was just being ... " Her muzzle twists and her free hand waggles. "Naive. Maybe now I'm dangerous, like all the things they've hid away for who knows how long. Maybe this is how they deal with dangerous people."
"Another method is recruitment," Melchior suggests. "They are not as free to operate in this system as you are. They have already asked you to perform a task they could not accomplish themselves. The recruitment of locals is a common practice in espionage and counter-intelligence, as it poses less risk to the recruiter for potentially significant gains, even if those recruited are only used as informants and not agents."
A nod. "Well I seem to be an agent, which also seems to be something I end up being a lot. Them, the JEF, maybe the Terragens are using me, the Niss, and now maybe Adam will too. I'm not sure how it happened, but it did. It has." Herhead shakes and she turns her mind's eye now to the rapidly closing airfield, her fingers tapping the side of her head. "I'd prefer recruitment. We really can't stand againt them without a lot of scary, tragedy creating warfare. Maybe I should just approach them directly on it." She bites her lip a second, then nods decisively. "That's what I'll do. Better to know now rather than when we have our hands full with Katha-hem."
The airfield is in view, with the massive hulk of the Titanian cruiser bisecting it. There's still plenty of space to land.. it's just a choice of whether to land in front of the Dainty Mauler, towards where the shops and people are, or behind it where the curious can't easily come poking at the Titan, but which means having to go past the Titanians to find Eli. Shojo should have taken the train back yesterday already.
In the end Tasha decides to split the difference and opt for caution under the guise of efficent and direct procedure: She lands near the shops but begins walkin the Titan straight for the Mauler. If they try anything sudden, she decides, the town will see it and she'll have Mel to back her up. On the otehr hand, it's a perfectly normal thing for her to chose to do. Why wouldn't she bring her Titan to Titanians?
As the machine touches down, Tasha sends a notice to Eli as to her position and destination.
There's no response from the Mauler - at least none that Tasha can see. No turrets appear or missiles show their noses. But then the Titanians know it's her, because she can never hide from them. It's Eli who responds first, asking, "Do you want me to bring you a corn-dog?"
"I'd like that," Tasha responds. As she walks on -- or rather the fourty-foot bulk of her machine does -- she considers how they know her. Some part of her resonates ith their peculiar metal, or, perhaps, part of the Source lodged in her does. It maybe thatthe combiation of Ogdru-hem marks identify her -- but if so does her signal change when she meets new ones? Does she have a unique signal, or the Source's? If it's the Source's how did they not find it immediately? She decides she must have something unique, but has no idea why or exactly what it is, save that it marks her.
A hatch finally opens on the side of the Mauler, and the upper body of Bumper leans out.. and starts smoking a pipe. She waves, then points down towards the boarding ramp.
Seeing she has her invitation, Tasha angles the Titan's approach to board the vessel, glad to have both her and her machine aboard. Because, she's decided to see how the cards fall -- to call 'em, to make the big reveal. Then she'll know where she stands, even if she stands infront of a wall of armed Titanians who have had their agenda accelerated to the point of capture. If things do go badly -- if Gabriel's fears come to pass -- then at least she'll have Mel with her. And that's worth something.