After splitting from Isleen, I took refuge in Technica’s underground lair. Not just because it was much closer than my dorm-room but because I knew that taking off my armour would involve some rather unpleasant sensory effects. Galatea had managed to cut off the parts that were too damaged by the overclocking of my nanites the day before but those had to go somewhere, so there was so semi-cooked human flesh marinating in my armour. Calling the idea disgusting would be putting it mildly and I had no desire to subject my dorm-mates to something like that.

The showers in Technica’s domain might be another hint that we were related, they strongly reminded me of the awesomeness that had been the shower I had built in my bunker, multiple jets built into the walls of the cubicle, water-pressure just shy of a pressure-cleaner and enough water to drown an army, allowing me to wash off the strange slimy sludge that remained after I had taken off my armour. What it smelled like, I had no idea, Galatea had opted to filter the air for me as I took off my armour. Once I felt clean and halfway human again, I dressed in my stealthy suit, feeling no more need for the armour and started back to Sophia, only to run into Technica.

“Good, you are back under the living. You should know that there is some screaming about Clark’s death and the Guild takes the usual stance of, not our business. Unless you were stupid enough to get yourself captured on camera or leave clear evidence, you should be in the clear.” she told me, her behaviour back to business as usual. There was a slight disappointment within me that I could not quite place, so I pushed it away and focused on the relevant things.

“Will there be any problems with the previous declaration of him being hunted for attacking me?” I asked, reasonably sure that there would be no forensic evidence, at least nothing that could be placed with certainty. My rail-gun was unique after all and I had only used it in Technica’s lair, the house we had destroyed and to kill Clark. Thus, they would likely find the flechettes but linking them to anything would be difficult, especially if they had broken up, as they were likely to do. There was just too much force involved for them to stay in one piece when hitting something solid enough to stop them.

“No, that is not something mainstream media would report on, such deals between Powered are firmly established as conspiracy theories, no journalist worth their salt would report on them.” she waved the idea away and from her attitude I could guess that there were more unwritten rules between Powered in place. Someone should really write those down one of these days. The dual-society, with the established Powered on one hand and the rest of humanity on the other hand was rather confusing.

“Is that why, no matter how much I warned, nobody seemed to care about the conspiracy Sophia and I discovered? I mean, we found their base and, while their servers were torched, there had to be a ton of evidence that something was going on there, but nobody ever seemed to care.” I asked, connecting the dots.

“Partially, yes. But, maybe more important is the fact that Powered uncovered it. You see, the powers that be, the various politicians, they fear Powered in general and the Guild in particular. While we are officially under the umbrella of the United Nations the situations in which the Security Council can give us orders are precisely defined and outside those circumstances the Guild Council has independance.” Technica explained and I got curious. If the Guild was such a thorn, why not use some excuse to get rid of it? Knowing that the only way to get information was to ask, I did just that.

Technica chuckled a little as she answered.

“If it was only that easy. Whenever one of the Security Council members is especially annoyed at us, they propose something like that, only for the others to block it. There have been plots from every permanent member to get rid of the Guild at one point or another and they all failed. In addition to that, the Guild Charter is quite solid, from a legal standpoint, which adds to their problems. No, getting rid of the Guild would need something monumental.”

I had a feeling that, compared to the murky waters of politics, tar was a crystal clear, low-viscosity liquid. Shaking off my curiosity, I focused on more important things.

“I want to get back to Sophia, is there anything else?” I asked, only to be betrayed by my body, as a rumbling sound reminded me that I had not eaten in over a day. And not just reminding me, but telling it Technica with a clear complaint.

“Why don’t we get something to eat? That way you don’t fall over before getting to her?” she asked, with a wide grin. I considered for a moment, but she was right so I nodded and fell in step next to her. She was in her usual lab coat, with the mechanical parts on display but without a mask, so it should be secure where we were going. For a moment, I considered things, when Galatea had an evil idea that I loved. I had almost all my nanites inside anyway, so it was easy to coat the visible parts of me with a thin, silver skin, making me look like someone send from the future to prevent a threat to the digital overlord from developing.

Only that I still had the face that looked so very similar to Technica’s and let myself be subsumed in Galatea, meaning that an empath or telepath would get nothing from me. When Technica saw the change, she burst into laughter before speaking.

“Oh, that would go over well, a sapient robot. No, no, no, don’t do that. People would freak out, I told you, they fear us already. But they also know that, if there was ever a true conflict between Powered and normal humans, the normal humans would win, simply due to their number-advantage. Or rather, the Powered couldn’t win, even if they couldn’t really lose either. In a serious conflict, both sides would lose, something that nobody wants. But robots commanded by someone like Galatea would change that, even if they were just like those build-bots you made for the lab. And that says nothing of some sort of Terminator.” she explained and I felt Galatea pout a little, using my body.

“And here I thought I would call you Grandmother, but you don’t even want a connection to your only Grandchild.” she shot back and while I felt that she was joking there was a tiny partition of her that felt hurt. And I could understand, thanks to the connection we shared, she wanted no part of being a weapon but people would instinctively treat her as one and fear her. There was a unspoken, even un-thought conversation between us, exchanging just emotions, in which I apologized, as it was me that was using my body in conflicts, causing her to be dragged in.

She gave me back control and pulled back the silver-skin while subtly changing my face so that I looked sufficiently different not to raise eyebrows.

“Really, you know that those bots are little better than roving vacuum-cleaners, right?” I asked, while at the same time, considering the idea. I had felt a little weak in the field, so why not use some remote-controlled platform to add firepower? I would need multiple ways to control them, or rather communicate my commands to them, but if I could get sufficiently reliable control, it would be neat. Add in some sort of autonomous defense-mode, if someone cut the connection and I would be able to project force without risking my fleshy body more than necessary. Just looking at Technica was a lesson in caution and I had lost quite a bit of my body already.

I dumped the idea into the shared headspace, so that Galatea could have a look before focusing back on Technica.

“... and even so, yes, people would worry.” she finished a sentence and I had no idea what she had said, so I just nodded along. Somehow, that act of letting someone lecture reminded me that I had simply vanished the night before, without telling my roommates or my lecturers about my sudden leave, so I quickly composed a message to them, telling my roommates that I would likely be back in the evening and my lecturers that I would need to take the week off, because of an emergency. I bounced the one for the lecturers to Technica, hoping for her to countersign it with her authority while sending the one to my roommates directly. Hopefully, they had not worried too much.

With that done, I focused back on Technica who seemed happy that I was taking her warnings about building autonomous robot-armies serious. If I wanted such a force, I would have to construct them somewhere else or get her on board with the idea.