Chapter 33: Family and Friends

June 16^th, 2022.

We were eating dinner when the knowledge stuck me full on. Dropping my knife with a clatter, I sank into my chair. A single tear fell in pain of half-forgotten memories.

... “Master ... Master ... Master...” The repeated word filled with worry brought me out of my ancient memories. The food and plates removed. Cat stood worriedly by my side, holding my hand and hoarsely calling out to me every once in a while. She had probably tried hard to get my attention earlier but failed.

How long I was out of it, I didn’t know until I glanced at my watch: Three hours.

“Sorry for worrying you. Aphrodite is dead.”

“What? How?”

“I don’t know. Probably Leonard.”

“I thought you said he went after Ares?”

“She might have joined the fight or been collateral damage. Do me a favor and go see what is happening in Swahililand, please,” I asked, while waiting, my phone rang.

*Click. “Smith here.” The timing was too exact. It could only be one of my relatives. One specific one.

“Was this your doing?”

“No. My people are all here dealing with the strikes against Moria.”

“Do I have your word on that?”

“Your side was always more likely to act against those two than mine. I should be asking you that question,” I retorted angrily.

“Wasn’t me, that fool can go play in his sandbox for eternity for all I care.”

“Don’t you have peacekeeping forces in that area?”

“They are neutered by UN regulations,” she replied crisply.

“Then ask him. I wanted nothing to do with that pair and haven’t since that day. If there is nothing else, I have a student that needs me.” I hung up on my over emotional sibling. She had never been friendly after our aborted engagement all those years ago. For all her vaunted wisdom, it always failed her when she became emotional, when she needed it the most.

All too often her first reaction, when personal disturbances intruded on her world, was to lash out violently and excessively at anything and anyone in range or affiliated with the cause. Unfortunately, that was a family trait, even when I was young, I had been susceptible to an infrequent rashness. When Athena was not affected directly, she was Wisdom Incarnate, when she was, watch out, because she became wrath incarnate.

Even now, a mere hours after Aphrodite’s death, she questioned me instead of making a two-minute phone call to a subordinate for information of my whereabouts. Yet she accused me, knowing that I would never kill one of our own unless they attacked me. But then, Athena still blamed me for Father, and still suspected me for many of our relatives’ deaths even if we were separated by thousands of miles. Like I cared about any of my erstwhile relatives besides the two that had stood by me since the early days, one dead and one long gone.

Coming to UF was in response of the Migration. I was happy, if cold, in Norge until He arrived in Belgium. Our last quarrel was explosive and tiresome. I joined an expedition to Greenland, and upon landing I said my goodbyes, undertaking the long journey to begin my life anew.

I called Moria and warned her off of speaking or making any reference to Aphrodite for the next few months. I knew Moria disliked Aphrodite and would have gone too far with her words if left unchecked. My former student promised that she would ... but THAT favor would cost me.

Athena needed to stay on her side of the Atlantic. With that attitude, she could rot there with her tin soldiers. Give her two months to cool down and she will realize all of this herself. Until then? She would be a dangerously emotional creature.

I gave Clarissa a call, asking her to return to the estate. She had been out wandering again, since the time that she could devote to learning magic was limited at this point. She needed to rest a great deal between sessions, so training her endurance was slow but necessary.

...

“Master, I didn’t find anything on Aphrodite. Nothing at all.”

Catherine continued while I frowned. “Both Rule and Dr. Death are in Swahililand. There was a Dr. D. sighting three nights ago in the BBCC’s tent dining with war correspondent, Ken Busey. Rule is the one making a mess. His zombies are swarming Ares’ fortifications. The death toll is 15000 and rising, since the assault began last night using the local populous. Rule’s lack of discrimination is disgusting. Ugh, everything about him is disgusting. I think his ability to revive the dead has evolved from his time in Xhina, given the twenty percent increase of zombies from his last mass summoning.”

“Someone needs to do something about him before he evolves further,” she worried. “I’ve charted Rule’s growth over the last twenty years, it’s scary. Ten years ago, he couldn’t handle more than a hundred and fifty zombies. From the satellite images and the BBCC reports, he has upwards of five thousand now...”

“You aren’t listening to me again. That’s it,” She threw a book at me. “You are coming with me. Go put your shoes on.”

Cat drove, we stopped at a florist before heading to the local White Chapel. My student arranged the whole Memorial for Aphrodite. Whenever I went to speak, she stomped on my foot with a glare.

The young mortician balked at first when Cat said she wanted a memorial for my recently departed sister who died in a war in Africa, with no body able to be recovered. Glossing over her actual status, Cat explained that Rule made the whole area a mess making the body unrecoverable since the UN was burning every corpse that they came across.

“What would you like engraved on the memorial, Miss Larkin?”

“Aphrodite. 1638 – 2022. She who was Beauty, Loved, and was Loved. Never shall this world see her equal,” Cat replied determined. BC was never mentioned for the originating date.

“Miss, that would make her almost four hundred years old.” The man in a charcoal suit responded in disbelief.

“His whole family is old. Just make it how I want.” She had to stomp over a few of the mortician’s further objections until he capitulated to her demands.

Our next stop was the Smithsonian in DC where we met with the curator for Greek studies. “I want you to arrange an exposition highlighting the life of Aphrodite. Here is a check for ten million if you need more let me know. I want it done this year and it better be damn good if you want to see a dime more from me in the future.”

Leaving the check on the stunned archeologist’s desk, Cat dragged me off after the two-minute meeting.

Our final stop was at a marble quarry. “Go pick one.”

“What size do you want?”

“Fuck size. Just get the best one you can find.” Those icy brown eyes showed no softness towards me.

Two hours later, I chanced upon an irregular two by three by four block without any veins for fissures besides the cracked top corner that had separated on extraction.

“That one.” She told the worker that came when she summoned. “Deliver it this week.”

...

“I take it we are not going straight home?” I asked as we flew southwest through Virginia.

“Nope, we are going to Williamsburg.”

“What’s in Williamsburg?”

“Work. You had better get a good night’s sleep. You will have a long weekend.” She warned without a hint of mischievousness.

We stayed overnight in a Hilton a half hour east of Williamsburg and enjoyed a pleasant but quiet meal. Cat put me to bed early and snuggled while we both read and relaxed in the over stiff beds. At dawn, she kicked me out of bed and made me shower while ordering breakfast. I came out of the bathroom to find a new pair of Levis, a sturdy cotton long sleeved shirt and a flannel over shirt. My boots were also in view. Looked like she meant it when she said I’d be working.

As we pulled into the large fairgrounds, she instructed me to retrieve two badges from the console. “A blacksmith festival?”

“Yup, we got you a stall.”

“We?”

“Yup. So, you better do a good job or Moria will smack you.”

“And what will I be smithing?”

“Whatever your heart desires.” She grinned evilly.

Cat led me to a large stall in east thoroughfare. I looked around at the well-used and loved tools before turning to ask the unasked.

“Seems Mr. Brown won a new set of forge tools and was willing to part with these at a good price. Don’t just stand there. Get to work.” She smirked.

I pretended not to notice the CCTVs mounted in all four corners of the open smithy. Cat pulled up a stool, tucked her left leg under her and started on her own studies ignoring me.

After starting the forge, I spent the first hour weighing and familiarizing myself with the new set of tools the girls had gotten for me. I didn’t like the second hammer so that was first on the agenda. Choosing a suitably sized block, I began.

I broke for a lunch of bratwurst and watered honey mead. “Can’t have you getting drunk and hitting your thumb now, can we?”

“Where are the items I made earlier?”

“All sold.”

I had noticed Cat entertaining the fairgoers while I worked. I did admit that I liked the automated bellows, the terrible two chose a good smith for their swindle.

Saturday, attendance tripled and became loud enough for me to clearly hear the people around me and even Cat hawking our wares even over my hammering.

“I need a good hunting or skinning knife before you shut everything down today.” I was instructed. “And don’t forget to narrate what you are doing and why.” I frowned but noticing the crowd she had gathered, I acquiesced.

Preferring a tool in this case to a weapon, I made Cat her skinning knife. The gut hooked, curved five-inch blade was the easy part, making an appropriate handle was always the difficult part and the smith that I inherited from had limited choices for handle materials. Settling on a walnut board, I shaped two pieces and drilled the holes for the pins to secure the handle to the blade. I applied a light black stain and let it sit and cure while giving the knife a final sharpening. Using ground antler, I made a decent glue and clamped the pieces together. Securing the completed knife, I put it in a safe place before beginning cleaning up for the night. A last grinding to get the correct feel of the walnut handle followed by the finishing stain coat and I would be all set.

I showed Cat her requested tool while trying to ignore the crowd around our stall.

“Thanks. Now go wash up I am so-oo not letting you in my Car covered in metal dust and soot,” she instructed while passing me a gym bag.

Catherine was sitting in place when I returned twenty minutes later. “Let’s go eat. I’m starving.”

“I could do with some food too,” I agreed.

...

“Did you end up selling everything I made?”

“Moria got the trowel and I stole the chamfer. Are you feeling any better?” she added hesitantly over chowder and bread slices while we waited for our meals.

“Some. I didn’t expect her to die. There are only a few of us left and besides the three of us, the rest are almost completely out of Existence.”

“Is Existence what keeps you alive?”

“It’s hard to explain. Think of it as our initial charge.”

“Oh.”

“What will you do with the knife?”

“I entered it in the contest,” she commented as if were the most obvious thing.

“And is that fair to the other contestants?”

“Fuck ‘em. They need to see what they need to improve on,” Cat smiled impishly.

“Your language has gotten worse lately.”

“When people stop trying to kill me and my friends, I’ll stop swearing.”

Nodding, not in agreement, but in recognition that she needed another time out I added, “Did you get any studying done?”

“Just in the morning. This afternoon, I was too busy.” Our dinner arrived and we switched to her impressions of the fair and the people attending. She was surprised on the geniality of the attendees and their knowledge of the different items that the various smiths had made, either on site, or brought with the intent to sell.

‘Her knife’ won first place and a thousand dollars prize money which Cat kept, stating she had paid for it along with the materials and tools. She then turned around and sold it to one of the judges for an extra five hundred. When I asked about the tools and iron stock, we, Cough ... I, was about to pack up, Cat informed me in a no-nonsense tone that Moria had hired someone to come Monday morning and ship it to us.

Sunday at the festival was relaxing and productive. Cat looked pleased with herself by day’s end which came all too early for me.

...

“Have you finished your new prosthetic yet?” She broached on the way home passing through Kentucky.

“Almost. How did you know what I was working on?”

“It’s obvious, your leg has been hurting you and you aren’t someone to let that go,” Cat noted with a frown while gesturing at my leg. “I have two side projects, one for Darrin that I want to start on, the other for Clarissa. I have a mockup in my head for her Hoverbike. I just need to spec it out. I’m not sure about the body though. That will be a pain in the ass.”

“Send it to a modeler. Let them do the grunt work.”

“They take forever. Besides, I won’t be able to even think about the body until after I have all the components tested and I still have the AI to fiddle with. UGH. Too much to do and never enough time.”

We spent the rest of the trip home discussing her plans for Clarissa’s new vehicle.

We arrived home to find the marble block in the driveway all crated up. I was given six months to make a bust of Aphrodite. ‘Or else!’ I put it off for now.

Clarissa was waiting for us when we arrived. Cat grabbed her fellow student and led her into her classroom before closing the door behind them. They spent the remainder of the afternoon supposedly going over Cat’s plans and customization for her specific body type.

I answered the three missed calls we had while we were away and then absorbed myself in the final touches to my new foot. Clarence promised me the latest and greatest artificial skin and I confirmed his children’s appointment for the first week in August.

...

“Sorry General, I cannot go to DC for a week to meet the Admiral. If they want to come here that’s fine. Also, I leave in two weeks for a two-week vacation starting the 4^th ... You should know by now that I am not allowed to travel by myself ... While I am in school, I have to abide by his rules. Same with your Cadets. They just can’t up and take time off for a business deal across the country ... To me it is the same ... Master is in the middle of a huge project. There is no way he will be going anywhere until it’s finished ... Tuesday the 28^th? Yes, I will make a few days available for you.”

...

“What do you think?” Cat handed me the prints for her Hoverbike.

The front was wider than expected with the dual perpendicular, horizontal ports in the front below the ‘gas tank’. The ‘powerplant’ placement was conventional. I agreed with her that that was the best location for it once she explained the reasons for the front ports. The seat area was a little tight and I told her so, especially if there was a rear seat rider with any real bulk. The rear jet port extended out aesthetically, and impressively.

“That was Lissa’s idea. She wanted it to look more like a jet thruster.”

I nodded and kept looking over the prints. In pairs there were eight downward ports spaced out with the wider ones in the front. The sleek black design looked fairly conventional even without wheels.

The oversized windshield and dashboard dials felt right. Those two did an excellent job on the exterior and cockpit.

“Clarissa has a friend who is studying modeling. And I asked Helmut for his advice on what gauges we would need and his help using their wind resistance program. We had to do a full redesign of the sides once we saw the turbulence results. Thankfully, the third try came out pretty well. Not sure if Helmut was crying from happiness or sadness when I told him I wasn’t making these to sell. Not for seven or eight years at least.” My student added the last part with a shark like grin.

She certainly loved teasing her friend at BMW.

“Lissa is at her friend’s now. They are playing around with paint schemes. There is a motorcycle customization shop in Arizona that accepts custom paint orders. I told her to make an appointment for the first of August.”

“Aren’t you going to be with Moria for two weeks in July? That doesn’t give you much time to ... You are going to push that on me, aren’t you?”

“Yup. She is your student, so I figure that you can help.” She grinned with absolutely no remorse.

“And here you just had a session when we returned from Virginia...”

“That is not what I meant and you know it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Jerk!” ‘Not funny.’ Sigh. “Tomorrow, the Admiralty is coming here with General Jackson. Are you still going to hide in the workshop all week?”

“The boards need to be taken out from their baths at fifteen-minute increments starting at ten tomorrow.”

“The Chemist was here this morning, wasn’t he? He is doing your skin, right?”

“Yes. We get his kids on the 5^th of August for the orbital excursion.”

“I know. I can’t even get mad at you for hiding, you told me before I set the appointment. You are still a Jerk.” ‘I’m worried.’

“You will be fine. I will have it on the viewer.”

“Like that helps me at all ... Ugh. Mr. Peabody is coming Wednesday.” She made her frustrated face. “He drives me bananas ... Don’t give me that look, I know already. Sheesh! You will make the frame too, won’t you?”

“As long as I get the specs before you go to Moria’s I will. Otherwise, you can make them there or when you get back.”

“I have them here. Boris was a great help, I found out where I could cut back so it doesn’t suck up so much charge. It made the placement easier along with the aperture size.” I watched her think for ten minutes while her thumb tapped in rhythm with her heart.

“My bots won’t be good enough for me to use for the next couple of steps. I’m thinking of hiring a few people to set up a small shop in town. The wirers and the contractors will be arriving the second week in September. They will be staying in trailers until it’s complete. The first batch of extruded pipe is in the works as of Friday. Colleen has been a huge help this summer getting everyone coordinated on the Project. Everyone is ahead of schedule but us.”

“They have manpower. You have only me.”

“Clone yourself then. Wait. Don’t you dare!” She was serious.

“Do you have what you need for the Mini-subs?”

“Just one set of plans drawn up. The Device won’t be that bad, but the Coils will take forever. They are friggin six meters long. It wouldn’t be so time consuming if I could extrude them in sections.”

“I think you should consider setting up a shop that just does that for you.”

“Yeah. More stupid hassles.”

...

Precisely at 9:30 the bell rang. “Good Morning, General Jackson.” I could hear the nerves in her voice, so I had to assume that her guests did too. “Come in please. And you would be Admiral Washington?”

The younger Admiral looked over his hostess before replying. Hearing about an 18-year-old super genius and meeting one, were never on the same plane, emotionally. “I am. You would be Catherine Larkin. The General over here gave me plenty reasons to believe I am not wasting my time.” He entered with two of his staff after that overt contrary introduction. His aides, both commodore rank career officers, were at best polite. Not the best position for Cat to be in for her first negotiation with UF’s finest.

“Smith isn’t here?”

I saw Cat’s face tense up, she had made it clear that I would not be here for today’s talks last week. In fact, that was the premise under which they ended up coming out here instead of her going to the Pentagon.

“He is working on a time sensitive project. Master will not be joining us today.”

“Sir, we were told that he would not be here. Let’s see what Miss Larkin is proposing.” Added the oldest of the commodores.

Cat silently thanked the bald senior officer with a smile and passed a USB containing the specs with the proposal clearly written up to each guest once they were all seated. Turning on the Imager Table, a 3D model of the proposed propulsion system for the mini sub hovered inches off of the platform while she began speaking.

Two hours later. “Very interesting Miss Larkin. Do you have any proof that your contraption will work?”

“Sure. Let’s go see Boris.” Cat stood and opened the door to the patio leading her skeptical guests outside.

“Who is Boris, and what does he have to do with your system?”

I toggled the outside surveillance while keeping an eye on the bath’s timer.

“This is Boris. Greet my guests Boris.” Cat smiled tiredly. The confrontational Admiral had already started wearing on her.

“Greetings, Mother. Greetings, Mother’s guests.”

“What the hell is that!”

“Boris is a guard that I Created. Boris will you hover over the pool please?”

“Affirmative, Mother.”

“Mother?” General Jackson inquired softly.

“Don’t get me started,” she growled at him.

“Twin miniguns...”

“Are those grenade ports?...”

“He flies?”

“What is the meaning of this?” Just as the Admiral was demanding an explanation of the monster Bot known as Boris, he flew across the top of the pool and hovered dead center while waving.

“Catherine, how much does ‘Boris’ weigh?” General Jackson asked while calculating countless scenarios internally.

“About six tons. Sorry commodore, those are Gatling lasers. Not mini guns and he doesn’t fly, just hovers. As you can see, gentlemen. My magnetic propulsion does work. Because of the specific properties of water, it works even better submerged, but my pool is too small for my friend. Boris, you can return to your practice. And thanks.”

“Welcome, Mother.”

He cleared the pool area, landed and motored off to the practice range. A commotion occurred among the naval officers, mostly regarding Boris’ capabilities. General Jackson was quiet and observed his compatriots.

“Shall we return inside Gentlemen?”

“Lewis, get an injunction against that robot and her propulsion, make sure it’s classified and get a leash on it.”