Technica and I discussed a few more details about my coming apprenticeship, when I asked a question that I had been wondering about.

“How do you think Clark found me? I mean, I am reasonably certain that my identity was secure, but he managed to find me. And, to be honest, I doubt he would be able to pour water out of a boot, with instructions on the heel, you know?”

“Mother, your bias is showing.” Galatea softly chided me, as I said that.

“I don’t know him, but think about it. Either, you made a mistake, whether it is in your characterisation of him or your work, or he had help.”

“So, he had help? Could you explain how magical and psychic tracking works? What are the limitations? Because, I made very sure that there was no technical way for someone to track me.” I asked and Technica was frowning again.

“If I could explain that, I would be much happier. I asked Fey to explain magic to me, once. She is on the council with me, so I thought, if anyone can do it, she could. She tried, I’m quite sure she made an honest effort. Afterwards, I got violently drunk, in an attempt to purge my brain from the illogical nonsense she told me. Magic does not make sense, period. Or rather, it works with rules that are counterintuitive, random and subject to change. The whole idea behind it is fixated on the whim of the caster. Or, as Fey would call it, their will and magical strength, whatever that means. In simple terms, don’t expect rational limits to apply. My personal approach to magic is, avoidance or overwhelming firepower.”

I had to giggle at Technica’s grumping, she sounded so very annoyed about her own incomprehension when it came to magic.

“So, he might have found me using magic?” I asked. “What about psychic powers?”

“Those are even worse. At least, with magic Fey claims to understand the rules. On the other hand, nobody even claims to understand the various extra-sensory perception-powers. At least magic operates just with the past and present but there are psychics who have demonstrated the ability to see the future. Some only see it in metaphor, for example a vision about you could be centered around you, being named Alexandria in a reference to the great library. So, a vision could show the library burning as a metaphor for an attack on you. Or, it could latch onto the fact that you call yourself Diana and that you are the daughter of a King.” she started to explain and I felt a headache building.

“That sounds incredibly useless. I mean, who would even be able to identify the great library, much less draw the conclusion to me?” my voice was incredulous, “That sounds as if they just make things up and, whatever happens, claim, ‘Oh, yes, that was what I have prophesied!’ I could also claim that I have seen a burning house, looked on by a sleeping god and once I find a situation that could fit, I simply start screaming that it was what I prophesied.” I took another sip of the great coffee to calm myself.

“Thank you!” she said with a triumphant grin, “Yes, and a lot of them are like that. Their prophecies are not worth the paper they need to write them down. The reliability of psychic seers is the biggest rating-difference between them. If they are able to understand their visions and explain them to others, that makes a good seer. If they get visions at a consistent temporal distance, meaning their visions are for about the same time in the future, that is even better. Oh, and if they are not mad as a hatter.”

“So, in essence, depending on who he has with him, who helps him, there is no way to prevent him from either spying on me or finding me?” I asked, annoyed.

“Pretty much, yes. Once you established yourself a little better, you can start to trade your own work for the services of other Powered, to shore up protection in areas you can’t protect yourself.” Technica explained with a grin.

“Mother, why don’t you try out if your voice box works right again?” Galatea asked. She had been busy, continuing to fix the damage to my body. Buffing out the trachea using nanites had itched quite a bit, but it seemed she was finished. Experimentally, I asked her to close up the air hole she had made in my throat and took a deep breath. That part worked quite well, so I tried talking.

“That is no fun. But at least, I already have some things only I can do.” My voice sounded raspy and hoarse, Galatea and I would have wait for natural healing to kick in while making sure that I still sounded like me.

Technica’s eyes widened when she heard me speak in my own voice, but she did not comment, instead continuing our conversation just like I had.

“Yes, I guess so. If you managed to make nanites smaller than ten microns, you can manufacture at micron-precision, obviously.” I just nodded.

“Well, that is something useful. But those things you want are devilishly expensive, especially if you want them from a reputable source. You would not believe what a general anti-intrusion warding is worth. Every government wants as many as they can get their hands on for their officials. After all, it would not do if some Powered simply waltzed in and mentally dominated the top officials.”

Now, it was my turn to be wide-eyed. That was a rather disturbing picture.

“How does that work?” I asked, curious.

“Take my previous explanation on psychics. Those guys are psychics, too.” Technica said, grinning again. “But, to expand a little, it depends. For example, Pheronica, there is a reason she writes it with a Ph, she uses pheromones. And no, her name is not Veronica, she just enjoys bad jokes. She is mainly a seductress, twisting people around her fingers or into other body parts, while conning them out of their money. Most would call her a villain but she has a personal code of ethics and she is happy to help when there is rioting. I have seen videos of her in action, it’s spooky. First, there is a huge mob of angry people, out for blood, then, she starts to do her thing. And the angry mob, armed with torches and pitchforks, turns into a street-version of Woodstock, with love and peace everywhere. Anyway, her powers need people to breathe in her pheromones and she can control the spread to a limited degree.”

Listening to Technica, I realised that the world was a much scarier place than I had believed.

We continued to chat some more, over energy bars and coffee, until it was time for me to leave. She gave me some street-clothes, so I could leave without attracting too much attention. We even applied makeup to hide the bruises on my face, it would not withstand close scrutiny, but it would help against casual observation. In addition, she handed me a pair of black leather gloves, to mask my left arm. It would still be strangely stiff but not as attention-grabbing as the silvery look it had before or the black gauntlets that were part of my stealth-suit. Now, dressed casually, she gave me a briefcase so I could carry my gear with me.

We exchanged numbers and she suggested to meet again, once I was fully recovered, to hammer out a schedule for my apprenticeship. Once I was ready to leave, she guided me to a second elevator and we rode upwards and ended up in a hallway in the office-building next to the tower.

“From here, you can leave without anyone making the connection.” she said, before pulling me in for a very, very awkward hug. After seperating, she looked rather sheepish, and wished me a nice day, before taking the elevator back down.

Lightly shaking my head, I started on my way home, reeling from the amount of change I had gone through in the last day. I let Galatea do most of the driving, internally debating who I would tell what. My roommates would definitely need to be told some of what had happened but not everything. They would see the arm and have questions, they would see my bruises and have questions. I doubted that the attack would become common knowledge, so I might simply let them draw their own conclusions, that might be best.

On the other hand, Nisha would need more of an explanation. I had told her that we would talk later and I was relatively sure that a continued association with her had massive advantages. So, I would mostly treat her as I did before and remain vigilant against her. She would feel my vigilance and hopefully understand.

“Could you do with my vigilance the same as with the emotional pain before?” I asked Galatea?

“I don’t think so, the pain was flooding out of you, I just had to draw it to me, if that makes sense.” she answered. It did not. We would have to play that by ear.

Once I got off the train at the cluster I was living in, I had a rough plan for the coming encounters.