“You would think that an offer to save the life of a loved one would be received with more enthusiasm.” I muttered, somewhat annoyed at the time Anath and I had been forced to wait to meet Mr. Acharya, Nisha’s father. After landing at a private airport near Delhi, we met up with Devatma, a local Powered and representative of the Guild, just as planned. After securing the Plane in a rented hangar and setting up some automated security, a limousine had taken us into the city, and towards the offices where Mr. Acharya was located, something Nisha had suggested over the phone. Once we got there, Devatma had excused herself, as she had no desire to get between a powerful, local politician and the apprentice of a Guild Councilor, just in case our meeting did not end amicably.

The only problem was that the personal protective detail assigned to him was not about to let a pair of masked, Powered into close contact without a proper vetting and a few rather involved procedures, which neither Anath nor I would accept. Which, in turn, led to the situation in which the two of us had to wait, while Nisha had gone ahead, after a quick check that she was who she said she was and another check to make sure she was not a danger. In some ways, I felt they were paranoid, but given that there had been attempted assassinations in the past, was it really paranoia?

Finally, after a good hour of waiting, Nisha returned to the room we had been waiting in, accompanied by a tall, burly security-guard in a well-fitted suit.

“Metis, Anath, my father can talk to you now.” she addressed us with our monikers, just as we had asked her to. While I had no doubt that our names would be transmitted to her father, I had some hopes that I would be able to form a relationship with him that was based on mutual favour and benefit. And if not, there were ways to create a new identity, as I had done in the past.

“Excellent. I hope there will be no more delays, while I have confidence that there will be no drawbacks, it feels impolite to prolong the physical and emotional discomfort your mother suffers.” I replied, my earlier annoyance still present. Nisha simply nodded and guided us into the building, the guard following behind Anath.

“There will be two members of the Guardians, the Indian Superheroes, present. One of them is similar to me, the other is more akin to Anath.” Nisha warned me, her voice soft, likely too soft for anyone but me to hear. My assessment of her went up a bit, the warning could be seen as betrayal of her father, but she was in a situation where she had to choose between warning her friends and acting in accordance with her fathers wishes.

“I see.” I replied, shifting my mind into the semi-trance state shared with Galatea, to the point that I would barely register as a living being to the senses of a psychic. If they wanted to play games, I would play with them as long as needed. Or until I decided that saving Nisha’s mother was not worth the bother, as much as such a decision would pain my friend.

The office we soon stepped into was a curious thing. The ambience was a distinct mix of modern western and what I assumed to be classical Indian, somehow managing to be both, yet neither, not clashing but complementing.

And if the decor was curious, the occupants of the office were even more so. The one I could identify as Nisha’s father, thanks to images I had looked up beforehand, was dressed similar to the bodyguard who had accompanied Nisha, a perfectly fitted, black western suit, a dark tie with subtle, geometric patterns on it and a pin of the Indian flag on his lapel. On one side of him was a female in a blue, military-looking uniform but without any rank- or unit-insignia, on his other side was a male, dressed in flowing, white robes and a turban, a wavy knife strapped to his hip.

My link with Galatea supplied their identities from the Guild-database and I was quite impressed. The female used the title and name Parvati, a Hermes-Powered with a secondary ability that allowed her to create concussive orbs, her combat-abilities making her one of the most powerful Powered in the world and, depending on your criteria, the most powerful Powered in India. The male had a less impressive power, or maybe just less revealed, with the documented ability to sense malice and lies. Yet, given that he had earned a spot in their elite-infantry, I was not about to underestimate Khukuri. One did not need to have Powers to be dangerous.

“Father, let me introduce my friends Metis and Anath to you.” Nisha gave a light bow, introducing us to her father, before turning to me.

“Metis, I want you to meet my father, Shankar Acharya.” she addressed me, before stepping to the side, leaving me in front of her father’s desk.

“Greetings, Metis.” he gave me a polite nod, before gesturing to one of the charis. “Please, let us sit.”

“Greetings, Mister Acharya.” I replied, following the invitation to sit, while Anath stepped up, taking up position behind my shoulder in a mirror of Parvati’s position behind him. Curiously, Nisha moved in such a way that she mirrored the position taken up by Khukuri, almost as if she was supporting me over her father.

“Given the situation, I will forgo the usual pleasantries and get straight to the point, if you don’t mind.” he told me, his voice thoroughly pleasant, yet there was something about him that made me nervous. Maybe it was just that he reminded me of my father and the way he was able to use his voice to project confidence and power, maybe it was something else.

“Certainly, that would be prudent.” I nodded, my voice perfectly modulated and polite, while my mind was sheltered within my link with Galatea, allowing nothing out but what she projected over the electronics in my body. If I had lips, they would have twitched into a smile from the way Khukuri was staring at my body, as if trying to use his eyes to bore a hole through me.

“What is your connection to my daughter? What did you mean when you promised her to help her mother, my wife?” he asked, his voice now hard, his tone demanding an answer. Yet, I was quite certain that there was a small undercurrent of worry, alongside hope.

“Your daughter is a friend of mine, a dear friend. One who has seen me at my lowest, who has literally picked me up when I was on the ground, bleeding out and dying.” I replied, using simple, straight-forward truth, if taken slightly out of context, as a cudgel to beat his suspicions with.

“And regarding her mother, if a dear friend needs help, would you not want to help, if you have the power?” I asked in response, now trying to project calm and dignity, treating his fear and latent hostility as the inconsequential feelings that they were.

“We already asked a Healer for help, they can’t help her. Something about cancer makes it impossible to cure with Powered healing.” Parvati cut in, making me even more curious about their connection. I had previously wondered why a Powered of her strength was essentially acting as a bodyguard, even for an important politician, but this seemed to be more, almost personal.

“Who claimed to be a Healer, it certainly was not me.” I simply replied, not giving away that I was a little impressed. Healers, Powered who could use their Power to heal others, were stupidly rare and incredibly sought after, to the point that the Guild offered blanket acceptance to them, regardless of circumstances.

“Not that it truly matters. You will have to make a decision, you can either trust in my ability, and your daughter for that matter, or you will have to watch your wife die in a few months.” I told them, before deciding to give them a small demonstration.

“You, Khukuri, why do you not tell them about my mental state? That should be within the scope of your Power, is it not?” I asked, shifting my mind out of the communion with Galatea for a moment, careful to remain placid and calm, completely unconcerned with the situation. Let him get a read on that, if he so desperately wants to intrude on my mind.