In one of the many labs of Null Tower, Noriko is working on the Heart of the Universe again. In full cooperation with the Washington Protocol, her every move is recorded in fine detail.
<There appears to be some sort of equalizing effect on the quantum wave function. If successfully replicated it could be the key to stabilize the output of the Negative Drive and…>
<Nori, can I talk to you for a second?> someone asks her.
<Of course, Father. This was just a quick report for the President’s so-called “experts”.>
With a gesture from Noriko, the computer stops recording. Her father Bob walks towards her, hands in his pockets, stopping to admire the ten feet tall contraption.
<This looks, hm, this looks very, hm…what is this?>
<It’s a miniature scale of a Mark II Negative Drive. The real one would have to be ten times bigger.>
<Isn’t that the thing that almost blew up New York?>
<Yes. Since it’s identified as a weapon of mass destruction under the Washington Protocol, I have to find a way to make it safe before I build it. You needed to see me?>
<I just wanted to tell you before you found out otherwise. Deena left me yesterday.>
Noriko tries her best to look sorry, but she never liked his father’s girlfriend in the slightest.
<You deserve better. I’m sure you’ll find someone else. Is that all? I have to get to work.>
<You’re always working. When was the last time you did something else?>
<I went to Cambridge last Tuesday.>
<To give a lecture about quantum physics! I’m talking about having fun.>
<I was having fun five minutes ago. Working on a prototype interstellar engine.>
Bob gives his daughter one of these looks that only parents can master.
<What? That’s fun to me!> she defends herself.
<Look, I know you don’t want to talk about what happened to you a year ago. Obviously you’ve changed a lot since you left high school…>
<You could say that.>
<And I’m proud of what you’ve done, I really am. I know your work is very important for the whole world, but I also want you to be happy.>
<I’m the richest person in the world, Father. What makes you think I’m not happy?>
<Because no matter what you’ve become, you’re still my daughter. And I know you.>
Noriko starts to object, but realizes she can’t lie to her father. She sits down on the floor, legs crossed, and he follows her.
<It’s just…I can’t stand talking to other people anymore. They’re so stupid.>
She looks at her feet, unable to make eye contact again.
<I was so stupid, dad. When I think about who I was…I don’t think I’m the same person anymore.
<You told me before. You just need time to figure things out.>
<I used to preserve my old self in a separate part of my brain, but my mind has grown so much it’s drowning it. It’s getting harder and harder to think the way humans do.>
<Nori, no matter what happened to you, you’re still human.>
<Not entirely. Not anymore.>
<Ever thought that’s because you’re always isolating yourself from the rest of the world? I swear, when you’re not on a mission dodging bullets or whatever you’re in the lab.>
<What do you want me to do, dad, save the world or go out clubbing!?>
<I don’t want my daughter to be some kind of science nun. When I was your age…>
<Oh God…>
<When I was your age I had a three-year old girl to raise. I never graduated because I wanted to watch you go to your prom with a guy. Or a girl, honestly I’d be fine if went with a girl, honey.>
<Honestly, could we have one father-daughter conversation without bringing up my sexual orientation?> she asks, blushing.
<My point is, I had responsibilities too. But I still managed to find the time to have fun and lead a normal life. You don’t need to bury yourself in your work.>
<So what you’re saying is if I familiarize myself with occasional human gatherings I may be able to reach a paradigm shift in my sociological and anthropological worldview?>
<…yes. That is precisely what I meant. I…think.>
<Maybe I’ll try that. I’m glad we had this talk, Father.>
<Incidentally, Jane called. Your old school is having a prom in three days, you know. I don’t know if you would call it a “human gathering” but…>
<Fine, dad, I’ll go to this stupid prom.>
<That’s my girl. And you’ll go with someone?>
<Don’t push it.>
The Vulcan Forge, 2300 light-years away
Hephaestus is not happy. The God of Technology is examining the map of the Olympian Galaxy, sitting on his golden throne. His armor completely conceals his body, although the fiery red eyes are still visible. And the engine sound he emits with every breath suggests that under the armor there’s something that doesn’t look quite human.
<Forgive me, my love, may I speak to you?> asks a female voice behind the throne. Carefully engineered to be as lovely as possible, there’s still a metallic echo beneath it.
<<Tell me, Galatea, are all the other gods cowards?>>
<I don’t have sufficient information to answer, my love> the female robot admits.
<<My Talos army has slaughtered billions of their worshipers. The mark of Hephaestus ravages their planets. But they hesitate to challenge Hephaestus himself; why?>>
<Perhaps they fear you, my lord.>
Hephaestus turns towards her. Despite being built of indestructible neutral matter, just like his armor, Galatea looks quite petite and vulnerable. Especially next to his hulking body.
<<Do you mock Hephaestus, woman?>>
<I would never dream of it! You are my maker, my god, my lover!>
Hephaestus seems to be satisfied of her answer for a moment. But then he rises from his throne, looming over Galatea. His hunchback, still notable despite his armor, makes him a towering figure.
<<Hephaestus monitors all information shared between his worlds. Why did you make contact with Talas Khanos, woman?>>
<I…I don’t know what you mean…sir.>
<<Do not lie to Hephaestus, mewling wench!!!>> he shouts, with a roaring sound from his engine while talking. He grabs the robot by her throat and lifts her above the ground.
<<The Oracle of Hermes. Do you believe Hephaestus is not aware of your treachery!?>>
<I would never betray you, my lord!!! The Oracle has offered to sell us a device that can kill gods; the same used to kill Demeter!!!>
<<Hephaestus does not bargain with mortals for technology. Hephaestus is a GOD!!!>> he shouts again, this time throwing Galatea like a ragdoll. She smashes through a couple of walls; she’s not hurt, but the approach of Hephaestus fills her with unprogrammed terror.
<<They have mocked me for hundreds of thousands of years for my deformity. But I have elevated myself above them; I am more than a god, more than a machine! Hephaestus is perfection!!!>>
<I know, my lord, I know! You have programmed me to adore you! Don’t all beings in the galaxy deserve to worship you as their supreme god?>
The god stops in his tracks. For a few seconds the only sound is his motor, accompanying every breath. His very regulated, mechanical breaths.
<<You may have a point. This…Oracle. What does he want in exchange for the weapon?>>
<The Ghost Maker, my lord. The Drylon artifact of your slave Elytra. But the Ghost Core can only be transferred voluntarily, and to do so Elytra has asked for a cure for their species…they have a very short lifespan, even for organics. The Oracle is working on it as we speak.>
<<Your plan is clever, Galatea. Had I programmed you with the notion of pride, you would be a worthy challenge to any of my siblings>> – he notes, walking back towards the throne.
“Lucky for me, since it’s your pride and your massive inferiority complex that make you laughably easy to manipulate” the robot thinks. She knows voicing such an opinion would result in her deactivation and instead says:
<There is, however, a slight fault in my plan. That is what I wished to discuss with you, my lord. You see, Artemis has decreed that Lampyrian lifespan shall never be extended. If she kills the Oracle before he has delivered the cure…>
<<Divine law is useful only when the gods can enforce it, woman>>
There’s something on the side of the throne, resting on the ground. When Hephaestus lifts it, the shift in the center of mass of the Forge is so great to make it tremble.
<<Have the Aetos ready. I shall pay a visit to my step-sister>> – Hephaestus declares, holding his hammer with both hands.
Sikyonia, 5000 light-years away
Leiko Tanaka watches the Milky Way in the sky; it’s breathtakingly beautiful, much more than what can be seen from Earth. It’s the only thing to illuminate the sky: there is no sun, because Sikyonia is a rogue planet that lefts its parent star eons ago.
<Romantic, isn’t it?> Hermes asks her, placing his hand on her bare shoulders. She’s wearing a black dress with a skirt that reaches her knees, but a slit rides up her right leg up to the thigh.
<It’s a waste of space. This planet is a desert> she answers coldly, taking off his hand.
<No, this is a shrine. Follow me.>
<I’ve never seen you walk. When you said you wanted to take me to the stars, I thought it would be something better than this…this cemetery.>
<We’re here to pay our respects, remember. And to get a sweet deal out of it.>
They walk through the only road visible, so long that it might reach the other side of the planet. Next to it there is nothing but an infinite repetition of statues of the same woman in three variations: holding two torches, two daggers or two skulls.
The road leads to an enormous pyramid; it must be at least four times larger than the one at Giza. A faint smell of garlic and belladonna permeates the air.
After what seems an eternity, they reach a chamber inside the pyramid. Two dogs as big as elephants are guarding a throne; they growl as the guests arrive.
<Now now, is this the way to greet your favorite relative?> Hermes asks.
There is a child on the throne, which is almost comically large for her. The girl looks ten years old at best, but there’s something in her glowing purple eyes that hints at a much older time.
<Hermes. We have not summoned you; why is the grandson of my uncle Kronos here?>
<I have brought a gift for you, Hekate. This mortal is the Empress of Shadows.>
The child rises from the throne; she walks on air, keeping herself high enough to look at Leiko in the eye as she approaches her. She’s a little too close for comfort as she examines her.
<We are a virgin goddess; such filth does not entertain us. But we might throw her to the dogs.>
<Speak to me like that again and you will wish you could die> Leiko answers her, throwing all the hate she can muster in the child’s face. It’s like trying to have an argument with a tombstone.
<We like this one. She is impure; her soul has been tainted by the Drylon. We can feel it.>
<Yeah, that’s not why I’m here. I’ve heard you’ve had a few arguments with Persephone…hard to believe, I know, given her sunny personality…and that she refuses to allow you more sectors.>
<That is true. But that little skank has the power to back up her arrogance.>
<She may be more powerful than you, but she doesn’t have an army> Leiko says, showing Hekate a tiny blue capsule. She throws it into the ground; within two seconds, a fully grown soldier is born.
<This is a Centurion. We can breed billions in days. We want to sell them to you for a…reasonable price.>
<Why would the Triple Goddess need an army like this?> Hekate asks, but she’s not a good liar: she’s visibly impressed by this technology.
<We would kindly suggest you to declare war on Persephone> Hermes reveals.
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