Several days have passed since the arrival of the eccentric Walter P. Thorndike. During his stay he's managed to get the plumbing in one of the bathrooms mostly working. It took creative effort, from Envoy making new pipes from silica, to Thorndike building a makeshift water purification filter from old medical gauze and charcoal. The net result is a shower now works properly and they have a source of potable drinking water.

Icarus has taken to Walter during this time and has been helping the strange human out when he isn't practicing with Envoy. Walter, in fact, has been teaching the boy some useful skills, such as how to handle a gas torch along with the basics of plumbing and even simple electrical wiring.

A new day has begun and Icarus is already up bright and early and is out in the main hangar helping Thorndike work on the frame of what is intended to be Envoy's 'flying vehicle' – that is, if she can manage to get the enchantment to work.

"There, don't go too fast. The weld won't hold if you make it too thin. Slow and steady, that's the key," Walter instructs a masked Icarus as he's using one of the makeshift arc-welders that was in the hangar under a pile of old junk. Though it's impossible to really tell due to the mask, it wouldn't be too much of stretch that Icarus is biting his tongue in concentration as he tries to get the joint welded.

Envoy can't help but feel a bit 'domestic' now that there is running water. This largely means that she's been doing laundry as best she can (that is, without actual soap). A few things hang on the drying line that crosses part of the hangar – mostly scrubs that Icarus has already worn. For now though, the Aeolun is working to permanently enchant a ceramic disc with her 'new and improved' anti-gravity spell. She made the disc herself from sand, and it has the formula runes engraved all over its surface. As usual, she's surrounded by a small swarm of shape-shifting Sifran crystals as she works.

There's a loud 'puff' as the welder cuts off and Icarus sits back. He pushes up his mask and rubs at his eyes. Thorndike now leans into inspect the weld. "Not bad! You didn't remain steady; there's a bit of blobbing, but the weld should be strong," he tells Icarus. "Good lad!"

Perhaps Envoy hasn't quite gotten down the technique of 'constructive interference' of quantum waveforms, because she's having a bit of difficulty in getting the enchantment to become permanent. Right now it seems terribly unstable … and the input from the crystals also imply as much when they say in unison, "Pattern unstable, waveform synchronization off by 0.3421 degrees. Attempt compensation?"

"Compensate," Envoy sings in reply, while crossing her fingers that the disc is strong enough to handle it.

"Compensating," the crystals echo back. The disk vibrates in front of her violently. It looks like the structure is about to shatter into a million pieces and then it seems to even out. To Envoy's trained senses she can tell the pattern is just slightly different than the one she inscribed. In fact, one of the runes on its surface changed. A stroke is now exactly one millimeter longer than it was before. "Pattern stable," the crystals report.

I'm going to need to include at least one crystal in the control system, Envoy thinks, in order to compensate for any fluctuations that arise. No wonder nobody has made a magical airship since the old Savanite Empire! Next she goes over to the disc, and pushes down on it to see if it can support weight.

Wow. As much as she pushes on it, she cannot get it to move down at all. It's like it's sitting on an invisible support pillar of concrete.

"Well, scaling this up should be doable," Envoy mutters, but smiles all the same. It should be possible to levitate something the size of a caravan wagon using this technique… if it can be controlled!

"Control system next, and… waiting to see if it suddenly falls after the initial ritual energy has dissipated," she adds, and then turns and waves to the men. "Look! Apparent success!"

Icarus and Thorndike take off their welding gear and come over to take a look. "Are you sure?" Icarus asks and pushes on it and moves easily for him. "It doesn't seem to hold much weight… "

"This is just a proof-of-concept test," Envoy notes. "You have to test complicated things out in small steps to make sure everything works before making the final construct."

Icarus looks confused for a moment. "Oh!" he says and his ears splay, embarrassed. He pushes it again and this time it doesn't move. "Sorry, I kinda made it move. I think it's okay."

"Well, I'm not surprised that you can make it move, Icarus," Envoy says, and laughs. "This is all second-nature to you, sort of. But the control system will be based on how you move things like that."

"Well, that could be handy," Thorndike admits as he peers and pokes at the disk. "Why, I could make my perambulator fly with one of these and a way to control it! I would be the envy of the Society."

"How are you thinking of controlling it?" Icarus asks. "I have an idea, but it's probably stupid."

"That is one of our goals," Envoy notes. "Assuming I can generate a nested gravity bubble to keep the internal inertial frame separate from the external, moving one. To control it, I was just going to use the same spatial warping you developed, Icarus, only controlled by a magical device. Something that can be moved to indicate direction, and another for altitude… or velocity. Velocity control will be tricky, since the tendency will be for constant acceleration… "

"Why not try to make a few devices that permanently try to move and you position them so that their waves sort of cancel each other out. Then if you move one out of position, the wave imbalance would make it move. Like … two people pushing on each other with the same force. Nothing happens until one of them changes direction, even slightly," Icarus suggests. "Anyone could use that, right?"

Envoy blinks and ponders that. "I had not considered a purely mechanical solution," she admits. "What you suggest might be doable with… arms and pulleys? It would be simpler, but require more skill to operate, like… like an aeroplane or similar machine… "

"Why not have two mechanisms, then? One like our young friend suggests to avoid any failures of a purely, ah, magical system, and a magical system for ease of use," Thorndike offers. "Sort of like primary and secondary systems for safety."

"The mechanical one could be made just using discs like this one," Envoy notes. "For safety, the frame can have its own non-motive enchantment, so if anything goes wrong with the… vectored wave emitters… it won't crash."

"So … my idea wasn't stupid?" Icarus asks hopefully.

"No, it was very insightful," Envoy notes. "This is why it is good to have people who approach a problem from different styles, you see. I tend to think in terms of whole biological-style systems, and do not always grasp mechanical solutions without close study."

"If you can give me the likely forces it would generate, I can try to design a system that would be able to support it without frame failure," Walter offers. "That's just basic physics, after all, and that I can handle. All this wave the fingers stuff just gives me the heebie jeebies."

Envoy ponders. "If the frame itself provides the majority of the gravity nullification, then the directional systems will not need to be too powerful. They will need to be unfixed to the dominant gravity normal though." She taps on the disc, and says, "This won't do for that, it wants to remain in one orientation. I think the vectoring ones will need to be created all together in order to have the proper interaction balance."

The two men both give Envoy a bewildered look.

Envoy blinks. "Oh… I have to make the other discs together so they… know one another?" she tries. "How many would be needed for a full range of motion, four?"

"Four vectors all perpendicular to each other would allow for universal movement, yes. Hm. If I think of it as engines, then you would have them all mounted to a harness in a universal joint pattern. Sort of like a giant jack," Thorndike muses.

"What's a jack?" Icarus asks.

"Oh, it is this little thing from a kid's game. It looks like four bars sticking out in different directions," Thorndike explains, "And they really hurt when you step on them."

"Would that allow for turning?" Envoy asks. "I remember jacks with six points though."

"You must have had mutant jacks," Thorndike claims. "And hm. It should. The ones on the horizontal plane should be able to provide rotational force when put 'out of balance'. You just have to make sure the frame itself is fixed."

"I will need to change the geometry of the discs," Envoy notes, tracing a circle around the middle of the existing one. "An inner disk and an outer ring, with separate mounting points. Proximity to one another will determine the strength of the force effect."

"I wish I could help somehow," Icarus admits and his ears splay.

"You will help to design the control system," Envoy tells Icarus.

"Or, rotation could be the control factor… which would be easier to implement the mechanics for?" Envoy asks Walter.

"I don't know how. Not until you have something I can look at, I guess," Icarus admits.

"Rotation is relatively simple so long as there aren't too many rotating parts," Thorndike offers. "Hm … have you considered building it like a gyroscope?"

"With a flywheel?" Envoy asks.

"Mm, perhaps not," Thorndike says after more thought. "Why don't you write up your ideas with a description of the forces in play and I'll tell you which is simplest to build mechanical controls for."

"I will ponder the geometries involved," Envoy notes. "And make a few prototypes. We can always use them to levitate you two up and down into the caverns so we can explore them."

"Wait, levitate me?" Thorndike asks, "I'm not so sure about that! My cousin, God rest his soul, had an unfortunate accident with his personal rocket propulsion backpack… "

"Hit something?" Icarus asks.

"The side of a mountain," Thorndike says.

"These don't use rockets," Envoy notes, sitting on the disc. "It will be more like… being tied to a balloon."

"Like a parade float?" Thorndike asks.

Envoy blinks three times as she searches out the reference. "Similar. I could pull you up or down with a line, while you hang from a harness that counters your weight."

The conversation is interrupted by a rather loud banging on the hangar door.

"Oh, I hope that is our supply requisition!" Envoy says, and hurries for the door.

"Oh! That sounds like the clowns in the zeppelin rodeo," Thorndike calls after Envoy. "They seemed to have fun… "

Once at the door, Envoy slides open the spy-slit to see who it is.

By the time Envoy opens the slit, the delivery vehicle is long gone. Just outside sits a rather battered crate.

"Hmm," Envoy mutters, and goes to the control panel to unlock the door and activate the motor to open it.

The door opens with a rather loud groaning noise. No one leaps out of the shadows to attack Envoy, thankfully. The crate just sits there looking … like a crate. There appears to be a delivery notice stuck to its side.

Envoy grabs the notice once the door is fully opened, and reads it over to see if they included everything she asked for.

There is a long list of foodstuffs, most of which should at least be long lasting. There is also a list of clothing; basic stuff in both male and female variants (including underwear), as well as a collection of towels. The last item on the list reads as: "Chef Brommel's Guide to Abaddonian Cuisine. One hundred recipes so easy, even a Titanian couldn't ruin it."

"They know me well, it seems," Envoy comments, then waves into the hangar to the others. "We have food and clothes! Do you want to try and move the crate inside, Icarus?"

"Oh thank the Heavens," Thorndike asides to Icarus, "That hardtack of hers is thinly veiled torture… "

"Uhm, sure?" Icarus offers. "From here or do you want me to come over there so you can better observe?"

"Closer would be better," Envoy says. "That way you can walk it, so to speak. Your control should be much better that way."

Icarus walks over to, and then out of the hangar door. He peers and pokes the crate for a moment, then chews on his lower lip. He shrugs and grips the side of the crate. To the casual observer it looks like he lifts the crate one-handed. To Envoy's senses, she feels the odd warping effect he generates surround the crate as he 'lifts' it off the ground. And in an apparent literal take on her comment about walking it in … he carries it in this way. Envoy can sense the periodic warp-effect that causes it to 'fall' along a path with each of his steps. "Where should I put it?" he asks Envoy when he passes her.

"Next to the lab," Envoy suggests, and goes about closing the door after the boy has gotten inside.

"Okay," Icarus says and carries the crate into the building so that it will be near the lab.

"It's not fair; he makes that look so easy," Thorndike notes when Icarus is out of sight.

"There is an amazing amount of work that went into making it look easy though," Envoy notes. "And you could do it just as easily with a wheeled hand-cart."

"True. It makes me worry, though," Thorndike admits, "He's young and if politics are here like they are back home … people will try to use him. That's not fair to him."

"We're here to protect him, and show him how people are supposed to treat one another with respect," Envoy says. "When the time comes, he'll know right from wrong, and when someone is trying to tempt or coerce him. And I'm going to make sure he has the ability to defend himself."

"You sound like a mother," Thorndike notes with a mustachioed grin. "And oh, you said you had food in there? So … do you have a gas expansion heat extracting chamber to keep it fresh?"

Envoy blinks at that. "Well… I can turn it into stone you see, and then turn it back when it's ready to be used," she explains. "I don't know what a stasis chamber for food would look like… but there may be one in the next level down, where the living quarters used to be. Maybe even a proper kitchen."

"Ah, well, it's basic thermodynamics to build one. Simple application of the ideal gas equation relating to temperature and volume," Thorndike babbles, "I could make one with a supply of carbon dioxide, a compressor, and copper tubing. Maybe a few pistons and bellows for good measure."

"I've seen cold-boxes powered by Air or Chaos magic," Envoy notes. "I can't produce gasses though, unless there's a supply of bicarbonate soda."

"Limestone and hydrochloric acid can make carbon dioxide," Thorndike notes. "And it's just all magic with you mage types, isn't it? No appreciation whatsoever to the clever craftsmanship of us inventors," he adds, grinning all the while.

"I appreciate it quite a bit!" Envoy notes. "It's much easier to use than magic, after all."

"Do you want me to unpack the crate?" Icarus calls out from within the building.

"Let's open it up together," Envoy calls, hurrying to get to the lab now. "It will be more fun that way, I think."

"You make it sound like a present," Thorndike says as he follows after her. To himself, he mutters, "I think prolonged use of magic does something to the mind… "

Icarus is standing outside the lab and peering at the crate. "I bet I could pull it apart," he mutters.

"I don't know exactly what will be inside," Envoy notes. "So in that respect it is like a present!" She does seem a bit excited about it.

"You should use the pry-bar," Envoy suggests.

"Why?" Icarus asks. He does go to fetch the pry-bar, though.

"It is not easier, but it can feel more rewarding," Envoy claims. She has no idea, honestly, but doesn't want Icarus to become lazy.

"That's a total lie, you know," Thorndike notes as an aside to Envoy. Icarus returns with the bar they were using in the hangar and shoves it into the seam in the crate top.

The hybrid grunts as he pushes down with all his weight. The nails groan and the lid slowly pulls upward under the force. Icarus almost falls on his face when the nails finally release and the resistance the lid was providing vanishes. "Whoa!" he complains and catches himself.

"Leverage is an important thing to learn," Envoy notes, and goes to help pull off the rest of the crate top.

The cookbook is right on top. The cover of it has a picture of a Titanian 'tenderizing' a slab of meat with a spiky hammer. Beneath the book are vacuum-sealed packages of clothing, helpfully labeled for size and gender. Presumably the food is beneath the clothing.

Envoy starts unloading the clothing. "I'm sure something in here can be made to fit you, Icarus," she says.

Unfortunately the first thing Envoy unloads looks like a package of women's undergarments. Not exactly the kind of attire for Icarus. The next look more promising in that they're lightweight, sturdy shirts, tan trousers, and even some sort of rugged leather jacket. It's sized small, so would probably fit the hybrid's thin frame. There are even several sizes of lace-up boots in there.

The Aeolun keeps unloading, hoping to hit food soon! "You can ignore that one bag, Icarus," she tells the boy. "Ladies underwear is really confusing and scary."

"Indeed," Thorndike agrees. The explorer then has to blink and look at Envoy. "Do you not wear underwear? Surely a lady with your grace and upbringing wears only the best?" he asks.

Envoy blinks at this. "I wear leather, usually," she admits. "Having wings complicates certain things."

"Oh my," Thorndike says and covers his mouth. Oh dear … he's blushing.

"I have scales so… chafing isn't an issue," Envoy offers, unsure if that will help or not. She goes back to excavating for dinner.

Icarus, meanwhile, is ignoring them and helping unload. It looks like he just struck food. There are dozens of cans of various vegetables and fruits, a lot of dried pasta, and what looks like might be a case of ice-packed meat. There is also a small box of seasonings.

"You have scales in … " Thorndike continues then coughs loudly and seems very interested in checking the buttons of his shirt.

"Do you know how to cook meat, Walter?" Envoy asks over the lip of the crate.

"Of course," Thorndike says, looking relieved the topic changed.

Envoy lifts out the first pack of meat, and hands it over. "I don't know what this comes from," she notes.

What's this? A box of species-specific candies? Looks like someone included a box that has compartments of sweets targeted for different races on Abaddon. There is candied insects for the Eeee, flavored sugar-drops for humans, and sweetened dried meats for the Karnors and Silent-Ones.

Envoy ooos at this discovery, since she can eat any of them - and it will help narrow down Icarus' food preferences. "They sent some candy!" she announces.

Thorndike takes the meat and stares at it. "Well … it looks like buffalo or bovine related," he says uncertainly after examining it by feel and even smell. "I think it will be usable with the right seasonings."

"Candy?" Icarus asks and blinks. "Oh, something that tastes good but has no nutritional value?"

"Here are some spices," Envoy notes, handing over the spice selections. "Oh, and candy does have some nutritional value, just not always good value. These seem protein heavy."

"Protein is good for travel. It makes you feel full," Thorndike notes as he looks through the spice selection. "Wait a moment," the explorer says and looks up, "Are you trying to trick me into being the cook?"

Too bad I don't understand the cloning machines, Envoy thinks. Might have been able to extend the meat supply then. "Cooking meat over an open flame is something that men are best at, aren't they?" Envoy asks, actually uncertain. "I'm afraid I will ruin it, since I haven't read the cookbook yet."

"Oh, you want to have a cookout? That is entirely different," Thorndike claims. "It is a pity we are not on a savanna, lying in the grass and looking up at the stars, though. A worn out hangar doesn't quite work the same… "

"If I were an Illusionist I could help with that," Envoy says apologetically. "But I can make animal and insect noises… "

"A savanna?" Icarus asks as his head tilts. "Why does that word make me feel … longing?" he asks.

"It is a good hunting habitat for large cats," Envoy explains to Icarus. "Especially those that run. You should be strong enough to start running now."

"Probably the cat in you, m'boy. A savanna was the place on my home where creatures that looked sort of like you, only more feral, shorter, and less polite company, roamed," Thorndike notes. To Envoy he says, "Not a lot of places for him to go running here."

Envoy thinks about that while organizing the perishable foods. "Well, with the proper manipulation of gravity, one could run right up the wall, across the ceiling, down the opposite wall and then across the floor to start over again… "

"Are you trying to get me to practice more?" Icarus asks.

"If we ever get to visit Caroban, I will take you to the gymnasium there," Envoy promises. "There is a really fun running track. And I'm not trying to make you do anything, Icarus, merely suggesting a possible solution. I would be very worried about you actually attempting it, since if you fell from the ceiling you could seriously injure yourself."

Quietly to Envoy, Thorndike asks, "Are you going to introduce him to the cats of this world? Can't say they've impressed me as being very social or polite."

"Maybe one day these weird urges will all make sense," Icarus grumbles. "Lots of wanting, without knowing what I want!"

"I don't trust the Silent-Ones," Envoy admits. "They are too xenophobic. However, I do know the Queen of Xenea, on Sinai. She is a Savanite, which is what the Silent-Ones are called on Sinai, and they are a much friendlier people. Xenea is home to many races as well. I'd have to teach you both sign language, but the Perambulator could potentially take us right to the palace… "

To Icarus, Envoy says, "I'm fairly certain everyone your age feels like that. At least from what I've observed."

"It's … " Icarus tries to explain and ends up just waving his arms wildly.

"Ah, my experience tells me that popping up in the chamber of royalty might cause a bit of alarm. Lots of chop chop and shoot shoot. Not good for one's health," Thorndike notes.

"I need to expose you to some teenagers sometime soon," Envoy notes. "I remember my roommates at College being very anxious to get out and have fun."

"Will any look like me?" Icarus asks Envoy.

"Within a certain degree of likeness, yes," Envoy notes. "There are humans, and there are Khattas. Both look mostly like you. It should be enough. I look like a lot of races, and nobody ever ran away in horror at the sight of me," she claims. She leaves out the one time she was mistaken for a deity.

"Will they think me weird?" Icarus asks next. He even sounds nervous.

"I don't know," Envoy notes. "I think most would find you exotic, and would be attracted by that. However I know that sub-adults have a strong need for conformity as well, which generally manifests around clothing fashion in multi-species societies."

"You're hardly terrifying, you know," Thorndike notes to Envoy, "You look like the angels of legend from my world. Or … maybe some sort of Goddess of Beauty. Your body shape does have prime mathematical form."

As Icarus lifts out the last of the food, there looks to be a letter stuck to the bottom of the crate.

Nodding to Thorndike, Envoy admits, "I was designed to have perfect physical symmetry and a wide range of appeal to enhance survivability."

"Except that bit about wearing leather I must admit is a bit terrifying," Thorndike adds after some thought. "It is not very ladylike."

"It is very practical though for exploring," Envoy notes, as she finishes sorting the food into 'fine on its own' and 'will rot without cooling' piles.

Noticing the letter, Envoy reaches into pick it up.

The outside is plain. No seal indicates where it may have come from.

"This may be the bill," Envoy says, as she opens the letter with a grin.

The letter is not a bill. In fact, it's a bit more serious.

Envoy of Lothrhyn, you are summoned by the High Council to answer for charges of willful violations of the rules set down by the honored establishment of the Guild. Word has reached of your continued use of magic, even though you were expelled from the guild during the unfortunate incident in Babel. Of most concern are the rumors surrounding the destruction of the Life Dome on Abaddon. We desire to speak with you on these matters and hope that the accusations against you are unfounded.

We cannot wait forever, though. Failure to appear and answer for these charges within six months will be tantamount to an admission of guilt in the matter at hand. We sincerely hope that it will not come to such. Please reply with a report of the situation from your perspective and with a tentative date you can arrive on Caroban for the inquest. Also, be aware that you have not yet been found guilty of any wrongdoing so it is unnecessary to turn yourself into the Guild authorities. We await your answer.

Envoy refolds the letter and slips it into a pocket, her expression turning to one of worry. "It looks like the Mages Guild no longer thinks I am dead," she says. "I need to send them a report, and then return to Caroban to clear things up within six months."

"That sounds bad? Is it bad?" Icarus asks.

"It sounds like a hearing," Thorndike remarks, "If it requires a report and a personal appearance."

"Not yet it isn't," Envoy notes. "If I can convince them that the circumstances of my… transgressions… were of a necessary nature, along with some good words from the Imperials I may be able to avoid punishment. Also, if I impress them with what I've learned then they may decide I'm more valuable to them as a Guild member than as someone they'd have to deal with harshly."

"They would hurt you?" Icarus asks, his ears going flat.

"This is … hmm," Thorndike mutters and rubs his chin. "You need an escape plan if things go badly. Do you think my Perambulator can reach this 'Caroban'?"

Envoy thinks about that. "The High Council would not go that far, I think. I was, after all, their goodwill mascot for many years and the popular symbol of the new age of magic. I have a lot of powerful friends, and right now am probably the single most powerful magic user alive. But politics can shift, and a lot of the older mages have never been comfortable with me. They may try to work out a compromise instead."

Icarus folds his arms across his chest. "Good. They better not try to hurt you. I won't let them," he claims.

"Your machine can only use the Portal network, which limits it to operating in Forbidden Zones," Envoy notes to Thorndike. "Caroban is an island that floats through the sky, following an unpredictable course. However, I think if we can build our airship it should be sufficient. I think that when they find out I was largely responsible for bringing magic back to Abaddon – and know how to do it for other worlds – my value will increase in their eyes." She also holds up her arms, with their crystal scales shining beneath Knick and Knack. "Plus, the people of Sinai hold the First Ones and the Sifras in reverence, and apparently I am a part of all that now."

"Well … at least they have given you enough time. Six months should be adequate to build your case," Thorndike remarks. "Well, if it works anything like the courts I'm used to, at least. But … forget all that. You wanted a cookout, right? It world be remiss for me to not honor the request of a lady. Let's put the food away and have a real meal for a change."

"Yes, Icarus needs to learn how a proper man prepares and eats food," Envoy agrees, and returns her attention to the stack of perishable foods. "I will see to preserving these. I know a spell from Master Barabbas that will let me turn them into gold until they are exposed to sunlight… "