Chapter 26: Thanksgiving with the Family

“Arrgh, these things are junk,” complained Cat in a tangerine top and black slacks while running through the results of yesterday’s Coilgun tests.

The Coilgun had lasted seventeen individual shots before failing, while the handheld Railgun only lasted six before deformation started on the rails.

“Do you think you can make something better?” I taunted, receiving a full bore LooK in return, which was meant to keep me in my place.

“The Railgun is stupid to even consider as a portable weapon. The rails will misalign after a few uses regardless of the materials. I can see where this could work large scale but nothing under a dozen meters. I think I can make use of the Coilgun but it would take a full rework of everything.” Cat scanned through the schematics, stopping to occasionally show me some point that she was particularly unhappy with while making notes on her tablet.

Since she wanted this to be her project, I kept my peace, even on the couple of early mistakes I saw brewing.

...

“Master, remember that prize you awarded for Halloween?” Cat asked mischievously.

“Yes?” I replied distractedly while reviewing some strange data from one of my latest tests.

“Sample 95874 DT and 95875 JD arrived. Both of them will be here the day after thanksgiving for their KWQ. Diane wanted the same Circuits I that I had and Janice wants Physics III.”

“You had a hand in their decisions?” With her acknowledgment of my assumption, I agreed with going forward.

“Thanks. Oh, I will need one of your forcefields since you won’t show me how to make them yet. The specs are in Gauss\Teacher’s folder under Casing.”

“I’ll look at it later.” I prevented her from returning to her studies, “Cat, it seems you like that outfit.” she was wearing the low rise side zipped leather pants and a matching red mini bustier. Of all the leather outfits, she wore that type the most, even combining it with lace, during leather and lace weeks.

“I do, as it’s not too cold out.” she regarded me warily, not sure where I was going with my intentions.

“Send a note to Dean Ridgemont with your impressions and desires. As long as you don’t get too distracted, I will allow you to slightly influence next year’s lines if it is not too late.” A huge thank you smile emerged, followed by a scampering off of a lovely pert derriere.

Some distractions were good for her and clothing was one of them. Oddly jewelry wasn’t. If given a chance my teen preferred corsets and bustiers as long as they weren’t too tight. If a little extra indulgence would relieve some of her stress then all the better.

...

November 4, 2021

Helmut Whurer, his wife Margery, and Moria O’Shannan were just a few of the dignitaries in the audience of the grand opening of Catherine’s EPI. The first truckload of five hundred Batteries was purchased by BMW. The rest of the thousand seventy-two individual capacitors were slated for Federation universities who were given a fifty percent discount on their first single purchase.

BMW had promised to purchase any extra Batteries that EPI made for the next three years and so far, that seemed to include most of the total production. Only two other car manufacturers had sent in orders for a limited quantity designated for testing, while BMW planned on using Cat’s Batteries right off the bat.

Norge’s National Power along with Persia’s Republic Grid also ordered as many single Capacitors as they could get their hands on. Unfortunately, Persia was still under an embargo from the UN which limited their purchasing abilities. Ambassador Saif had visited Gretchen a few times in hopes of circumventing the whole process by Purchasing a Fabricating table directly. The Ambassador even went so far as offering the sum of 500 million dollars for one along with the promise that the Capacitors would only be used on their national grid and each and every one would be numbered and always be accounted for.

Cat gave in with my and Gretchen’s approval as long as they filled two conditions. The first was the State Department’s allowance of the deal and the second was that the money had to be distributed to women’s shelters evenly in all fifty states of the Federation.

Ambassador Saif received UF approval three weeks later and to the best of my knowledge kept his promise with one of his nephews, Tun, overseeing the project.

Later in the year at the December Detroit auto show, BMW revealed its new C3 EV. The high-end, fully electric vehicle with a 0-60 mph time of 1.0 seconds, a 0-100 mph time of 2.8 seconds, pulling almost 3.2Gs in the corners and a top speed of 280 miles per hour with a range of 350 miles at top speed, almost triple the mileage of the current technology, at one tenth of the weight.

All powered by EPI’s new battery.

The killer, to Cat and her fans at least, was that I didn’t allow her to speak on her own company’s behalf. That was entirely left up to Gretchen and Rachel. BMW was extremely happy at their continuing domination of the limited supply of Cat’s Batteries.

...

“Master, I need some materials and I can’t find anyone that can manufacture them to my specification.” Cat slumped in my chair two days before Thanksgiving, wearing one of my clean shirts in protest of Clarissa, who stopped by again and was wearing one of my used ones as her usual want around the house.

“Oh?” That was new, she had been studying up on high temperature superconductor materials lately. I hadn’t realized she had gotten that far yet.

“The closest so far is a tape application which leaves bubbles and has limited application parameters. No one has figured out a way to apply the coating in an even form on bars or coils without messing up the magnetic configuration.”

“Can you use a bar as your coil?”

“The math doesn’t work. I get catastrophic failures.”

“What about a lesser HTC?” I received the LooK. “Then what about seeing if anyone has an applicator for the tape in liquid form that they are willing to part with.”

“No one admits to having one.” After some thought; “I heard Soyuz might one, whoever raided his hideout has it now.”

“Anyone else?”

“Gallant is an ass and won’t answer my call and Moria says she doesn’t have one.”

“Who do you think raided Soyuz’s hideout?”

“No clue. No one is admitting to it and no one knew where his main lab really was.”

“Has there been any high-tech underground auctions this year?”

“How would I know? Do you know of any?”

“I might.”

“Spill buster.”

“There’s one coming up on December 4^th in Montreal.”

... I could see the fumes starting... “Were you planning on telling me?”

“How was I supposed to know what you wanted?”

“Jerk.” She was pissed. She almost missed her chance. “Will you get us tickets?”

“I’m not sure if I can. I will see. But I might not be able to. Just because I keep an eye on that crowd doesn’t mean I am part of it.”

“If you can’t, then ask Moria or I will.” She told me! I grinned in response.

Over the last year and a half Catherine had become more assured of herself when it came to her studies. The new capacitor in particular gave her increasing confidence in her abilities as a Device designer.

“What about the rest of the weapon?”

“All designed and specked out. An improved coil is the main component and what I truly need. Everything else I tried is too brittle.”

“Have you considered building your own?”

“It will take too long. I rather modify someone else’s.”

...

The Wednesday before Thanksgiving, Cat, Moria and I shared a private dinner at Moria’s house. It was the first time that Catherine had been invited to the seven thousand square foot mansion. I hadn’t been there in years. After a brief tour, Moria escorted my student back to me while I waited in the library scanning an old copy of Gibbon’s “Basics of Weaponsmithing”, that I had never seen before.

“ ... I am hoping that Master can get those invites for us.” Ah, Cat was expounding on her latest obsession.

“Kiddo, you do know who is putting on the auction, don’t you?” Our hostess returned with her young friend. Moria was wearing an old worn pair of jeans and a bulky black SI sweatshirt after changing out of her customary gray pinstripe suit from work.

“No, does it matter?”

“That answer is entirely up to you. Myself, I am not too fond of any terrorist organizations or their activities. The Supplicating Hand are a Saudi backed Jordanian atrocity waiting to happen. They just lack funding.”

“Oh. Then what do I do? I need that applicator. It will cost me at least a half a year and probably even a full eight months if I have to research the application method myself and then build the stupid thing.”

“Why ask me? What are your options?” Moria countered.

Cat stared at me while I read, dismissing their banter. This was lady’s night out and I was only invited because of the holiday. “How about an exchange. I give you the blueprints for the Fabricator, with the condition that you only use it for your space program and you get me the applicator and everything else of interest from the auction.”

Now that surprised me. I didn’t expect her to go that far.

“Deal.” Moria responded without a hesitation. She would have to have been a fool to pass that up. It wouldn’t have surprised me if both had intended on passing the blueprints over and were looking for a reasonable barter point.

A blonde android, of middle-aged male appearance, interrupted the women with a call to dinner. “Thank you, Alten.”

The turkey dinner was lively, at least between those two. I was mostly ignored while they chatted about female related topics.

“Eagle should be almost back to full strength after Christmas. She flew to Britannia and spent some time with Meriweather.” Moria casually informed Cat between shovels full of mashed potatoes.

Narrowing her eyes in insight, a single double-tap of her thumb cemented Cat’s understanding. “You are the one that set Soyuz after her.”

“That’s such a harsh accusation, Catherine. Why would I do something like that to UF’s sweetheart Heroine?”

“Because you thought my Device was too powerful to be on the streets.” My student rejoined.

“If that were the only reason, I could have easily deprived her of your first toy.”

“You wanted her to use IT! ... And on Soyuz. You knew he would get killed once his armor locked up but didn’t want her roaming around or worse, getting a few of my Devices out of her hands.” Sigh... “I was your target all along, wasn’t I? You didn’t care about either of those two getting hurt. You used them to teach me a lesson.” Cat was disgusted and angry.

“Kiddo, you let a baby nuke enter the world. I wanted to help keep you hidden for a while.” The older redhead speared a slice of dark meat from Cat’s plate and snapped a bite off her fork making her point.

“What do you think?” Cat directed her anger at me.

“One arrow killed an S ranked Tech Villain.” I reminded my student.

“Did you know she sent Soyuz after Eagle?”

“Know, no.”

“Ha, that means you did know. Just never confirmed it ... Arrgh, I don’t know what to think.” The overwhelmed teen set down her fork and walked off, tears streaming down her unmarred cheeks.

“She took that well.”

The first time I did something similar to her was when she was my student, Moria swore up a storm and threw plates, forks, knives, chairs, plates, glasses and was seeking out more things to throw at me before I locked her down. I smiled at the memory.

“Alten is getting better. Either that or you are improving your eating habits.” The two of us, discussed nonrelevant issues while Cat stalked the rest of the house in anger and thought about her and our actions, for the next two hours.

...

“You both suck. Next time, can you please just stop me and tell me to my face?”

“Some lessons can only be learned by experience.” I reminded my young student.

“Don’t worry. My laser is not going anywhere.”

“Unless the moon pisses you off?” Teased Moria.

“Nah, the atmosphere will disperse the focus of the beams before it can breach the Exosphere.” My elder student and I chuckled. If Cat could joke after this, then she did learn and accept without too much damage.

“Pumpkin or apple pie?” Leave it to Moria to not pass up the sweets.

“Pumpkin, please.” Cat requested. The rest of the evening we discussed the fallout that was already circulating over my Halloween interview.

...

We drove the two hours back home in my Car while Catherine lost herself in thought. “Do all Device Makers Create a Death Ray?” she asked while staring out the passenger window.

“Most try to make an overpowered weapon at one point. Most die in the process.”

“I’ve made two, and want to make a third. What’s that say about me?”

“What you make is not as important as the why.”

“I want to tell myself that.”

“But?”

“I don’t want to be like Moria who can order someone’s death, just to prove a point.”

“You and she are two different people. She also has twenty years of life on you and a completely different upbringing, so I wouldn’t worry too much about that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Would you have listened? Eagle is your favorite Heroine.”

“Probably not,” she admitted to the window, still not looking at me or anything else, not even the passing scenery.

“Sometimes this life is hard. Rachel won’t come to my dinners with Moria, she is terrified of ‘Lady Strife’. Colleen thinks I’m insane to be in the same building with her. Mom makes me call every Wednesday on the way home after our dinners to make sure I am still alive. No one understands that she is one of the few people I can really talk to without dumbing everything down to a normal’s level. She also knows what the isolation is like living with you.”

A long, deep, drawn out sigh, “Then there is the fact that besides Moria and Gunther even Gretchen gets lost when I start on Quantum. She is too specialized with her Metals. I tried talking to Helmut once, that didn’t go so well and when I tried calling Gallant a couple times, he wanted nothing to do with me.”

“Gallant is a broken man. He relies on his machines to comfort him since he gave up on humanity.”

“I read about his forced retirement in Justice.” She leaned back with her head against the headrest. “Will it always be like this?”

I understood what Cat meant. “No, one day you will take students of your own. Everything will change on that day.”

“You know I once asked Moria why she chose to be a Villain. Do you know what she told me?”

I did. “What did she say?”

“That there weren’t any Villains worth fighting. I didn’t really understand what she meant by that until now.”

“And now?”

“When I graduate, there will be you and Moria. Ometron was like that too, wasn’t he? He had to have been one of your students.”

“What makes you think that?”

“No one else would be dumb enough to attack you or have reason to. His name was Andrew, wasn’t it?”

I sighed in memory. “See you are sighing again. Why do you say he failed? How did he fail?”

“That, I will not answer until after you graduate and speculation will get you nowhere. Give up on that.”

“Moria cares about the state of the world. She even prevented me from dealing with the terrorists. Why didn’t you stop me?”

“Because people have to learn to deal with their problems sooner or later. A little disturbance now is preferable to a larger one later. Some lessons come with a higher price than others.”

Catherine’s lessons were not cheap this evening.

...

Thursday afternoon at the Larkin’s came with a surprise. A State Department courier, hand delivered an invitation for Cat to dine next Thursday at the White House. Predictably, my student was not for it, since she was not a fan of the current office holder. Unfortunately for her, the household aligned against her and with overwhelming pressure from mother and grandmother, the disgruntled teen acquiesced to attending.

“What are you smirking at? You will be going with me.”

“Wouldn’t you rather take Rachel?” I knew when to sidestep.

An evil grin flash across my charge’s face on the way home at that thought. “It will piss a lot of them off if you don’t come, won’t it? Even though the invitation was addressed to me, they expect you to come.”

“I think you two would have fun all dressed up.”

“You just don’t want to go.”

“True.”

...

*Click. “Rache, are you free next Thursday? ... Dinner at the White House, just you and me ... Nope invite is for two. The big Jerk gets to skip it ... Jan and Diane are coming tomorrow. You will have to pick up the Emerald gown you love and have it altered ... Wait, I can call a courier and have it brought to you. As long as it is done by Wednesday for pick up, you will be good. We will be in the City and pick you up after dinner. Leave your car at the plant. Unless you want to come with me to dinner with Moria.” A snarky grin appeared, “I didn’t think so ... You know him. He hates this kind of event ... No, the invitations come with a hotel room already reserved. Limo and escorts too, probably the Secret Service ... Cool. Tell your family I said happy Thanksgiving and will talk to you later ... Love you too.”

*Click, “I need something picked up and delivered to...”

...

Friday afternoon, our guests arrived. Both were wearing casual outfits and winter jackets since the temperature was chillier than normal for this time of the year.

“Umm ... sorry about...” stammered Diane, formerly Babydoll, from the Halloween session.

“Don’t be, it was a good kiss.”

“Ignore him, he is an old perv,” chimed in Cat, at our guest’s discomfort.

“Oh, that’s fine then. I know how to deal with those creatures.” The perky curvy teen did an abrupt 180 in attitude and bounced into the house following Cat and her sorority sister, Janice, who thanked me again for the opportunity, with a nervous smile.

After an hour of settling in and getting our guests to relax, mostly by the lack of my presence, Cat led the four of us down the stairs to the workshop causing the two to freeze in astonishment.

“OH. MY. GOD!” exclaimed Diane.

While from Janice, “Seriously? This is your private lab?” incredulously, she asked in astonishment.

Cat had forgotten or had become immune to the size, number and diversity of stations that made up our work area. “What? It’s just our workshop?” responded my student while slipping on her lab coat over her gown.

The ponytailed curvy brunette shook her head. “‘Just’” Looking back at me, our energetic guest continued, “Is there anything I can do ‘to or for’ you to let me study here?” Diane added with a sultry smile.

“Diane, quit fooling around.” Cat didn’t see the honesty in her visitor’s offer. Janice did though and silently agreed, catching my eyes.

“Neither of you are far enough along in your studies. Talk to me after you get your first doctorate.”

“I will.” “Me too.” That offer would end up costing me, I thought.

Both Cat and I checked and double checked the numbers from the test results before I measured out each dosage. Locked in my den with the lights off and the field up, first Janice then Diane, received their KWQ with no after effects. Both were asleep on Clarissa’s bed, out for the night since she was spending the week with friends in Toronto. Rachel was shopping with family and planned on staying with them for the weekend, leaving the house to just us and Cat’s two guests. Poor Robert was stuck being the mule on Black Friday.

“Do you think I take you for granted?” Cat asked while kneeling next to me.

“Only you can answer that fully. As my student, you receive perks that no one else gets.”

“Thank you for choosing me, Master.”

“Thank you for accepting, Student.” She didn’t speak further that evening. After securing the bedroom door, Cat snuggled up to me and drifted off to sleep peacefully.

The next day Cat spent the morning hours assisting our two visitors with their lessons, exact copies of what she went through after her time with KWQ. The full lesson plan was imprinted on both of their personal computers but with the addition of read only and their promise of not sharing. Cat’s decision, not mine.

The three continued with the same schedule that Cat normally kept including making lunch and dinner and the usual swim times. The exception was that they were both allowed to sit on the couch in the library during the day’s review and Q&A session before bed. Cat acting in my stead as Instructor, answered each of the ladies’ questions.

Sunday was more of the same with the pair reluctantly leaving after the review at ten Sunday night for the three-hour drive back to Chicago.

“I’ve heard about what KWQ can do, but never expected it to be this good. Why don’t more people use it?” Janice asked during Sunday dinner.

“It’s not safe for anyone besides Master to use it. Remember that immersion chamber the first day? That is a Device, the only one in the world like that. Without it, you are risking your mind each time you use KWQ. One wrong dose and you become a blabbering idiot. A single tenth of milliliter in either direction can cause insanity if not calibrated exactly. That’s why no one takes it more than once in a lifetime.”

“Is it possible for us to come back again for another dose?”

“You would have to ask Master. But each dose is around five million dollars.”

“Whoa.” Commented Diane at that hefty price tag.

“Really? I heard it was less,” rejoined Janice.

“It is, if you are willing to risk your life and your mind.” I ended their conversation with that hard stop. “There are three formula’s out there for calculating an approximate dosage. When using any of them, ten percent of people encounter side effects ranging from mild insanity to death on the first dose. The second time it is used improperly the percentage jumps to an average fifty-five percent failure rate. Then a hundred percent on the third use. No one has lived after the fourth dose using an imperfect formula to calibrate the dosage.

“This weekend counts as a dosage, if you were to obtain a second KWQ from anyone without my Device to help calculate the exact dosage, then you would be subjected to the fifty-five percent average failure rate. Your DNA remains the same, but each attempt needs to be recalibrated. The slightest misstep can result in your death or worse.”

“The true main equation has seventeen distinct variables that differ from person to person and week to week,” Cat added helpfully.

“But Catherine obviously had many more than just four or five dosages.”

“Correct, but in her case, I can calculate the dosage to the fifth decimal. That is with the aid of my Device, otherwise I would never risk her.”

“There is no other way?” Diane asked forlornly.

“Master agreed to my unusual request in this singular occurrence. Think of it as winning the lottery and celebrate your good luck.”

“Thank you, Master Smith.” The younger of the two was the first to offer up her thanks again that evening, giving up on reaching for the moon followed by her senior sorority Sister.

...

“I over did it again, didn’t I?”

“Your gift will have a lifelong effect on both of those girls. I wouldn’t worry about it. Talk to Gretchen and see if she wants another session.”

“Lin too?”

“Sure.” I was in a giving mood.

“You old softie.” I received a hug before she left me to relax alone in the library with my bourbon and a book.

...

December 2^nd 2021

We arrived at Reagan International Airport at ten twenty. Skipping the ongoing construction in the airport proper, we hired a limo to take us straight to Union Mall Hotel where a double suite was booked for two nights.

The three of us toured the Capitol building the next day along with a tour of a few monuments including the Lincoln Memorial. Last time Catherine was here was with her sister and that visit was limited to the multiple buildings which encompassed the Smithsonian museum complex. We returned after a late lunch in time for the girls’ appointments at the hairdressers before getting ready for the night’s gala.

Rachel came out in one of Cat’s Emerald Gowns which had been retailored to fit the slightly taller, leaner, young woman’s stature. The makeup and golden combs sweeping her hair back added a few years to the twenty-year-old woman’s appearance. Cat on the other hand, wore her favorite Gown from this year with just a shade darker lavender lipstick, since she was still under the prohibition of no makeup as a condition of her schooling.

“You two are beautiful. Knock ‘em dead tonight,” I smiled with pride.

“You are just laughing at us; you get to skip the stupid thing.” Cat mocked, while Rachel beamed at the compliment. The beauticians that worked with them were first class.

“Ask me if that’s true when you get back later tonight. Remember, you will be in the Secret Service’s care for the evening but if you need me, Call. I doubt that it will be necessary.”

The two nervously bounced around the hotel room waiting for the call to come to the lobby which arrived promptly at 6:45. A quick hug from each and they were off.

A half-hour later, I was seated in Union Cigar Bar off Washington Ave in my usual gray suit. The dark purple tie, with tiny gray hammers striking anvils, was a gift from Cat, I appreciated the thought and wore it whenever a tie was needed, which admittedly, was not all that often.

I received a few looks from the regular patrons while I chose a random Cigar from the exclusive list and my usual bourbon while kicking back and relaxing in the plush leather chair waiting for my order to be processed.

Unasked, a thirtyish woman in a fitted red dress pulled out the chair across from me and sat carrying a tumbler of iced whiskey. “You don’t mind if I join you, do you?” The beautiful blonde asked for forgiveness instead of permission.

“I don’t.” Observing the sculpted woman across from me, I felt a familiar Power emanating from her, a unique sort of power that I had not come across in millennia.

“I’m Claire. I haven’t seen you before ... Do you mind?”

Unsure what she was asking permission for, I agreed, to see where this would lead. “Go ahead.” I gestured with my glass before sipping.

“You aren’t a lawyer or a lobbyist. Definitely not a politician. You don’t have an aura of a Hero, nor a Villain. You give the impression of compressed power. See that man in the charcoal suit to your left, the one with the bearded lobbyist? CEO of GD. Why do I have the feeling that Bertram would have to make an appointment to see you, instead of the other way around?”

Taking a sip of her whiskey and swirling her ice cube lost in thought, a subtle smile crossed her lips. “You aren’t a Golfer,” I didn’t know what that referred to but noted for future reference. It had to be a power group. “And you aren’t into sports. That leaves war. But on which end ... May I see your palm?”

Extending my hand, I allowed her to set the trap.

“MAKER.” She hissed, paling in fear and scooting back alarmingly, after her index finger brushed my lifeline.

“Hello, Euryale.”

“Lord, how may I be of service?” She shook. The stark terror generated was palpable to the nearby tables.

“First, calm down, I am not here for you.” After a hefty chug of her fine beverage, she was able to steady herself in my presence. “Better. How have you been?”

“Is everything satisfactory, Miss Phaesche?” A gentleman in a hand tailored suit approached to check on the lady.

Catching herself, “I’m fine, Ronnie.” She obviously wasn’t. “I was just startled by the unexpected meeting of an old friend.”

“And you are?” The interloper queried me.

“Smith.”

“Welcome to Union Cigar, Smith.” The emphasis was on the perceived obvious false name. Returning to his table, where he obviously kept an eye on us.

“Looks like you are doing well, Claire.” I used the name she gave, instead of her given one.

“No,” she shook her lovely locks and disagreed. “There are no Heroes.”

“Why would you be looking for a Hero?”

“I am the last.” She lowered her voice, “Only a Hero would be worthy of my egg.”

“Hmm, that is a difficult one. The last batch of Heroes has been corrupted by greed or vanity.”

“Not just this generation. The previous ones too. I have been searching for centuries.”

“Let me ask a friend if she can help.” *Click. “Can you get me a list of uncorrupted Heroes; Male between the ages of sixteen and forty?”

“Hi, to you too, it sounds like you are trying to pimp for a friend?” Moria laughed over the phone.

“Something like that. She has a peculiar circumstance.”

“This, I’ve got to hear.”