Mira was astonished by how much Sunpower got used up on the surpising number of little things necessary before she could begin her rescue attempt. Healing her concussion was to be expected. Having to sterilize some drinking water was not surprising. Neither was ejecting soiling from her clothing, although that could have waited, of course. But having to read the combination of a padlock and chain she’d found in her saddlebags, obviously used for securing the bike against unauthorized removal ... it all took bits of Sunpower. Best to fully charge her Medallion again before setting off. And then it was time.
She got herself going down the road. Soon the passing of the distance units - judging by the road signs, they were called “miles” - had her softly humming some stirring Eldebrani music. She’d also confirmed the decimal notation by watching the distance meter of her vehicle. The fuel gauge was rather simplified, but it was not difficult to locate the tank of stored hydrocarbons - at the expense of yet another bit of Sunpower, of course! - and determine that the reading was accurate enough.
So it went. Between Adult observation and telepathy, she quickly learned about such things as “gas stations” (and toilet facilities) and “restaurants”, as well as how much things cost in relation to the money she had, which - hurray, something went right - seemed likely to be more than enough for her immediate needs.
She’d been busy this morning reinforcing her saddlebags, chain and lock with Sunpower - indeed, the dial and shackle were “frozen” by Sunpower, and her charge had been long indeed. She locked up her bike and began exploring the small town she’d found herself in.
Several of the stores had various items that would prove useful, such as a small reference book to the local language, complete with pronunciation guide, and a map book which covered the entire political entity she found herself in. Bennu, or at least his sleep chamber, seemed to be in the capital city of it. That made sense! She quickly memorized both books.
Some of her purchases seemed a bit odd, such as a bag of marbles and an aluminum sign. The sign was necessary. She hoped the marbles weren’t. Now for a hard part - proper credentials. Fortunately, this was still at a time when they were fairly simple paper documents! Still, she wanted the numbers on them to be in a reasonable range. Now that she spoke and understood English, she could ask the location of the nearest center for obtaining them. Today turned out to be a work day during business hours, and the Motor Vehicle Bureau was not far down the road ...
She found the place, parked her ”motorcycle” - that was the term the government, if apparently nobody else, used - and carefully studied minds and what their owners’ eyes were seeing. Finally it was time to make her move. She grasped her Medallion and reached out to a pile of fresh registration forms. The pile spilled, forms going in all directions. That one kept going was naturally unnoticed. Realistically, she couldn’t have it float out the door, or even stuff itself into a patron’s pocket, but she could drift it into a waste basket, where it slid itself into the pile of waste paper and well out of sight.
Now Mira could go to work. First she turned the Documentator on, then fed it with some of the pages from her now-useless dictionary. Soon it converted them to blank sheets. Fingers flying across the touchscreen and keyboard, she soon had the blanks shaped and of the correct appearance. Then she used Sunpower to impress the images she’d learned, complete with the unused serial number. Out came her motorcycle registration, complete with the name she had chosen for herself - Irma Nenub. She had her reasons for wanting the authorities to be able to figure out who had done what she was attempting. (The “Irrna” was easy, being a name in English. Converting “Bennu” into something resembling English was not, but fortunately, this country permitted large numbers of people from various cultures to settle within its borders. Unusual last names weren’t unexpected.)
Amazing - something else went right! And let’s not forget that this “United States” seemed to, in theory and often in practice, permit a surprisingly high degree of personal freedom for an Immature political entity. (Clearly, Mira’s experiences were somewhat more positive that her Partner’s - at least on the whole. An attempted mass sexual assault certainly had to be included in the calculations.)
True, she had to fake the numbers on the operator’s license and Social Security card, but she was able to choose reasonable sets. And speaking of faking things, that aluminum sign found its way into the large slot in the Documentator. Shortly thereafter, a license plate came out.
She then spent a short while optimizing the performance of her bike, a little more Sunpower allowing her to remove deposits from spark plugs and adjust controls without needing to use a toolkit. Now she was fully ready to speed to Bennu’s aid.
Mostly, her ride to DC was uneventful. Not all that surprisingly, she had attracted the attention of another biker gang along the way east. Being on a rapidly moving vehicle herself, Mira had more than enough time to get ready before the first rider overtook her.
“Hey, babe, wanna ride with us?”
“No, thank you” Mira politely replied.
“NO? What’s the matter - we aren’t good enough for you?”
Mira sighed. Immatures were usually so predicable. She reached for - no, not her Weapon. She had no need for such extremes, at least until somebody produced a firearm. Out came a marble, which she showed to her unwelcome guest.
His thoughts already had warned her that he was planning to grab. “Bad idea” was all she said as she flicked the marble into his open mouth, a bit of Sunpower speeding it up. True, that removed him as a possible threat, but it, all too typically, did not discourage the others. More marbles smacked some of them squarely between the eyes.
One would have expected Mira to have used small amounts of Sunpower to disable the electical or fuel systems of her pursuers’ bikes rather than causing probable crashes, but she was in no mood to be charitable, and, after her previous experience, she was not acting totally in accord with her Training! Apparently, the possibility of such a mobile mass sexual assault as she already faced had not been properly considered, and after facing the possibility once, she was not emotionally ready to repeat the experience. But then, even the Mature are not perfect. //Yago take the lot of them!// she thought, inventing her first curse. Not that she actually wished them any serious harm, but she simply didn’t feel sorry for them if their actions brought it upon themselves.
Indeed, when one of the few bikers still riding produced a gun, the Sunbolt she fired at him was strong enough to not only knock the weapon from his hand, but slam into him with such force that he, too, found himself separated from his vehicle. That some of the people she had defended herself against might need the assistance of a Healer was irrelevant to Mira. She had no time to spare from her Rescue attempt!
She did have an interaction with local law enforcement once on her trip. Apparently a motorist had been preying on solitary female drivers, and the law officer was merely warning her of the possibility. He was briefly startled by the flash of emotion in her eyes and the quick surge of personal strength she emitted.
Mira: “I assure you, I am fully able to take care of myself!”
Officer: “Yes, ma’am, I can see that you are. Most other women are more vulnerable. Drive safely.”
She did, of course, as she wished neither a loss of control of her vehicle nor unnecessary interactions with the police, though the latter kept her speed well below that which she could safely operate.
She arrived at a town near her destination, made a number of purchases, and drove into the city. She was able to track the sleep chamber down because its Priming Circuit resonated with her Medallion, though, for good or bad, she could find no trace of her Partner’s mind. Not surprisingly, she would have to break into - and out of - a well-fenced and guarded compound on the outskirts of the city proper. She checked into a conveniently-located motel and began her plotting ...
Written July 2000 Typed Dec 14, 2003 Copyright Richard Kaplan