Looking at Sophia, I started to feel strangely faint. The doctors had placed her on her back, which seemed a little strange to me, knowing that she had been whipped bloody but on the other hand, she had been beaten just as bad on her front-side. What little I could see from her body was covered in bandages and the air coming through my filters carried the smell of disinfectant salves, softer compared to the industrial strength disinfectant-smell that lingered on me from the decontamination. Her face seemed almost unnaturally pale and she was hooked up to a variety of monitors, to monitor her condition. I was no expert but most of the indicators I could see seemed stable and Galatea provided context for them, allowing me to gather that Sophia was stable and, given the events, in remarkably good condition.

After my analytical mind had done its job, my emotions asserted themselves with a vengeance. They were simply running wild, making me unsure what I was even feeling, there was relief to see her, there was guilt that she had been hurt by Clark, there was a deep fondness that made me want to smile and hug her and so much more. I felt my hands clasp into fists as the emotions needed to be let out and I knew I was about to scream if I didn’t get my mind working on something productive. Something to keep myself from dwelling on those confusing feeling that roiled in my chest.

“We need to contact the authorities, back where she was taken. I don’t doubt that they still look for her.” I told Technica, grabbing onto the idea of proper procedure like a straw to keep myself from drowning in my emotional turmoil.

“True. Do you have a contact there? I will make the call, I have more experience in what needs to be communicated.” she agreed, after a second of contemplation.

“Give me a moment.” With that, I focused inward, to my connection with Galatea and through her into the internet. Finding a contact for their Powered Association was not hard, but simply calling the public number went against my instinct. I had no desire to get stuck in some sort of answering-machine or even worse, the dreaded holding que, so I started to dig. It took me a few minutes, maybe fifteen, but it got me the direct contact for the association’s leader, who, if memory served, should be the father of Isleen. Galatea, who had kept an eye on Sophia the whole time, had volunteered that he had been the one on site earlier and that he and his wife had taken Sophia in. So, he would be the one to call. For just a split-second I considered calling her brother but there were simply too many reasons not to, not the least of which had been the hostility he had treated me with.

After making sure that my visit to their system had not left anything behind, I passed the required information over to Technica.

She stepped to the window, turning her back to us, and used some part of her armour to dial, while opening a connection to Galatea and me, so we could listen in while I kept an eye on Sophia.

“Yes?” answered a gruff voice, after just a few moments.

“Greetings, Curadh. This is Technica, Councillor of the Powered Human Cooperation Guild.” Technica introduced herself.

“Greetings, Councillor. What can I do for you?” his voice asked, while his tone asked a very different question, mainly, ‘why the hell are you calling me, right now?’

“There was an operation earlier today and we seem to have recovered one of your Powered, a young woman called Anath, when she is in costume.” she continued, causing a gasp on the other end of the line.

“What? Where? How?! Wait a moment, I add my wife to the call.” he exclaimed, before catching himself. For a second, I heard muffled sounds, before there was another click and a second voice spoke.

“Greetings, Councillor Technica. You said you found our daughter?” a new voice asked.

“Liar.” the word slipped from my mouth, before I could stop myself. Undoubtedly, my exhaustion and general lack of caffeine had my brain firing on only a fraction of its normal cylinders. The resulting awkward silence told me that Technica had not only relayed sound to me, but had actually fully added me to the call.

“Who was that? And why are you calling us a liar?!” the male voice asked, sounding a little dangerous.

“I am Technica’s apprentice and I’m calling you a liar, because you are.” I answered, my hackles rising to the challenge.

Technica raised her hand in front of me, signaling me to stop before speaking.

“You have to forgive my apprentice, she’s mainly working on data-collection, so if someone claims something that contradicts her collected data, she sometimes speaks without thinking.”

“The mere fact that she seems to know a great deal about us is a little disconcerting. I thought the Guild does not try to keep a database on the real identities of Powered?” Curadh answered, his disapproval evident in his voice.

“It is not the Guild collecting the information, nor does the Guild add resources to the effort, that is merely part of my apprentices’ power. But I didn’t call to discuss your family, my apprentice or anything along those lines, I merely called to tell you about Anath.” Technica calmly explained, her voice brooking no challenge.

“It hardly matters what they know. What I want to know is, how is So… Anath? What happened? And why doesn’t she call us?” the female voice asked, sounding worried.

“She was kidnapped, apparently by an enemy she had from her previous operating area. I’m not certain about the exact purpose, but I would assume either revenge or information-extraction, given the state she was found in. She received treatment on Accord Island, in the Guild Hospital, and is stable but has yet to regain consciousness. I will not go into more details, not over an unsecure, unencrypted connection.” Technica told them, her voice calm and pleasant, as if she was just ordering a cup of coffee. But no, that might cause greater fluctuations in her voice. There were a few noises of disbelief in the background, but she just ignored them.

“That doesn’t sound good, not at all.”

“I will come, to get her home. How long until she can travel?” the female voice interrupted the male voice.

“Unknown, our information suggest that she has a minor healing factor, but not the exact extent of it. I would guess a week, maybe two. And that is, assuming she wants to leave one of the best facilities on the planet before she is fully healed. I would advise against it. But, yes, you can come, who should I make the entry-visa out for?” Technica answered.

Galatea displayed the name “Isleen” on my screen and I spoke up again, keeping with the persona Technica had suggested for me. It was not quite who I was, but it might serve quite well.

“Her name is Isleen, I can add more information to the visa, without telling whoever might listen the details.” I explained, using hints Galatea displayed for me.

“Thank you.” Technica nodded to me. “Now then, Mrs. Isleen, you just need to get to Accord Airport, where you can directly take the train to the island. Someone will meet you at the station and there will be guest accommodations waiting for you.” she continued.

“Just like that?...” she stuttered for a second. “I will get the next flight, I should be there sometime tomorrow.”

“I’m not sure I thanked you, but Thank you. I’m not quite sure what is going on, but it is comforting to know that Anath is safe.” Curadh added to Isleen’s words.

“It’s nothing, you don’t need to thank me. Isleen, we will meet when you get here. Good Night.” Technica lightly shook her head, despite the fact that her conversation-partners couldn’t see it.

The other two wished us a good night as well, so did I, and Technica dropped the call, before turning to me.

“You really shouldn’t blurt things out, you know that? You are normally much more controlled.” she told me, with a hint of disapproval in her voice.

“I know, I am just tired.” I admitted.

“And you are lacking in caffeine, aren’t you? Wait here, I’ll get you some coffee. It’s not good, but it’s strong.” she told me and I could hear the grin in her voice as she left.

I turned back to the bed, looking at the sleeping Sophia while unlocking my helmet and taking it off.

For just a split-second, my eyes closed when the smell of coffee intruded into my nose. I opened my eyes again, blinking a little, and Technica was back, with a to-go cup of coffee.

“Thank you.” I took it from her and again, she shook her head a little.

“Not sure if it is what you need, not when you are falling asleep on your feet.” she told me, and I turned to her, while taking a sip, which caused me to make a face. It was coffee, alright, but brewed to a strength that would probably make it a controlled substance, or maybe a solvent.

Technica placed a hand on my shoulder and spoke again. “You did well, you know. I’m proud of you.”

“So, it was you, Alexandria. And you even replaced me.” a weak but harsh voice came from the bed behind me.