The seemingly simple subject I asked ended up being an in depth topic of its own right.
Between genetically engineered organs with a more efficient digestive and waste management system, there were many factors that could muddle the frequency of a transhuman’s need to visit the bathroom.
From Niandra’s limited knowledge on the subject matter, a few standard Terran days of not needing to visit the loo was normal for most transhumans. On the extreme end of example, the Vindicare assassins of the Officio Assassinorum, the ultra elite snipers who trained their art of marksmanship to near-perfection, were known to stay still for many days in a single position just to get a chance to eliminate their quarry with a single gunshot.
Another issue to consider were the extra layers of cybernetic enhancements and built in waste management plus recycling systems in advanced suits. For example the Astartes’ power armour had built in systems that could sustain a marine’s metabolism without needing to stop to eat or drink while taking care of waste management. No one had ever heard of a space marine looking for a washroom in the middle of a warzone, and they were known to be confined in their power armour for months in brutal void warfare where taking one’s suit off for a leak was out of the question.
Then there was my case where my physiology was practically state secret. ‘I really have no idea.’ Niandra said while shaking her head, her long ponytail swinging from side to side.
‘The level of engineered organs aside, I have heard of rumours about psykers who can alter bodily functions with the deeper mastery of their powers. When it comes to you, both aspects are of unknown quantifiers.’ She looked dead serious when delivering her conclusion.
We returned to the upper floor just as our conversation wrapped up and was received by Herlindya and the rest.
‘Preacher Maylin has gone through all the remaining test candidates and the initial results are promising.’ Herlindya reported. While that was certainly good news, the sample size was too small and the progress too slow for what we needed.
‘Very well. Kindly arrange a fresh batch for tomorrow, add some variety and increase the number of candidates by half. Please look into methods that can increase the efficiency of the whole process.’ I said.
‘My lady, you are doing this again tomorrow? We have to show it to the world!’ Maylin exclaimed, hardly able to contain her excitement. ‘I am sure the archdeacon and the rest of the senior clergy would be honoured to witness you performing the Emperor’s miracle, may I invite them over?’
Bringing the high hat fella and his gang to watch me work?
I had mixed feelings about Maylin’s suggestion, the notion of turning my work into religious propaganda just did not sit right with me. But as an outsider I had to concede due to my limited knowledge of the local politics, the pros and cons of such an action was beyond me.
It was time to consult the professionals.
I looked at Herlindya with puppy eyes, she quickly got the hint and dropped the conditions for Maylin’s request. ‘Esteemed members of Adeptus Ministorum are welcome to witness Lady Syrine performing her work, but due to special circumstances every visitor has to be vetted by the Inquisition beforehand and no recordings will be allowed.’
Against my expectation, Maylin did not protest about the imposed conditions, instead she quickly sorted out the details with Herlindya and promptly excused herself to inform the Church. I had Niandra talk to Alicya on the arrangements needed for our little training session later and before I knew it, lunch time had arrived.
Non-militant members of Adepta Sororitas usually eat two meals a day, lunch around noon and dinner in the evening. Not feeling hungry at all, I declined the offer of lunch and ended up killing time at the library inside the monastery with Welminah by my side while waiting for Niandra to get ready.
Like almost everything in the Imperium, the monastery library was huge, imposing and a sight to behold. Made up of two floors, the library was housed in a grand ornate chamber complete with high ceilings, wall murals, intricate carvings and stained-glass windows that cast a natural glow on the many shelves of manuscripts and heavy tomes.
The air inside was cool and thick with the scent of aged parchment and leather bindings, sounds of rustling pages mixed with cogitator stations’ muted beeps and whispered conversations created a serene, scholarly atmosphere. Well, it would have been perfectly serene if not for the presence of many cherubs.
God damned creepy cherubs.
These things were … basically undead and genderless babies with decorative feathery wings. Their primary means of movement was by floating around with their built in anti-grav generators, the same principle utilised by servo-skulls.
Despite knowing the existence of these bio-sculpted homunculi beforehand, I had severely underestimated their grotesqueness in real life. With my typical civilian worldview from the twenty-first century, coming face to face with these constructs proved to be deeply disturbing, like witnessing a Halloween joke that went too far. Whoever thought of having these things hovering around in a place of study was a good idea really possessed a skewed sense of morbid aesthetics.
It took me a while to get used to and ignore the many creepy cybernetic undead infants that were randomly floating about. A glance of the shelves informed me most of the books here were about topics of religious, historical and cultural significance. In essence, none of them looked interesting to me. But since I was already here, I might as well make my time productive.
I reached out, retrieved a tome titled “Chronicles of Nusquam” and started flipping. To my surprise, I was able to thoroughly read and comprehend the contents just by casually glancing at the pages while turning them. Amazed, I continued to flip through the pages thinking this incredible instant information absorption would stop at some point, but I was sorely mistaken.
It just went on and on, page after page of text was fully read and comprehended at a supernatural speed until I freaked out and slammed the thick book shut. My sudden action made Welminah, who had been following me around like a lost puppy, look over with curiosity in her eyes. Did I read half the book just like that?
Time to put that strange notion to the test, I passed the tome to her. ‘Help me test something. Try reading any line in this book before page one hundred fifty.’
Welminah obliged, she opened the book to a random page and started reading. ‘The discovery of Nusquam as an exo-planet with Holy Terra’s almost exact specifications is nothing short of a miraculous occurrence…’
‘That is on page ten, first paragraph. Am I correct?’
‘Let me see… you are correct!’
‘Try another page.’
‘Please hold on. Alright, here we go. May we always remember the miracle of this discovery that founded our home and marvel at the… ’
I held up a hand stopping her before continuing where she let off on the page, ‘... the divine plan laid down by the God-Emperor that guides us all. Praise be to the Master of Mankind. Page eighty three, fifth paragraph.’
‘Correct again. Wait, did you memorise all that just by flipping through it?’ Welminah asked, astonished.
A primarch’s base line abilities are IMBA as hell.
‘Seems so. If only I could recall my lost memories like that.’ I managed a vague response. So the saying of a primarch never forgets was true, in the lore Horus the Warmaster once noticed there was a strange lapse in his memory, leading him to investigate and later discovering a big secret.
On the note of never forgetting, I recalled promising Welminah a piece of my wardrobe after the war was over. It seemed like that promise was overdue. Note to self on sorting that out later today. Speaking of Welminah, I had been detecting a weird sense of nervousness in her mind, plus the scholar’s subtle fidgeting around me had become too obvious to hide.
‘Something on your mind?’ I asked, sounding my best to be casual.
‘Well, Maylin had passed some questionnaires to me and wished that you could answer them as soon as possible, for her to report to the Church.’ Welminah answered timidly while taking out her data-slate. Speaking of Maylin, I believed she just entered the library, her recognisable footstep was approaching fast from the other end.
‘Alright. I think Maylin is here. Let’s answer them when she arrives.’ I said.
At that moment a floating cherub got too close for my comfort. Annoyed, in my mind I asked the cyborg baby to bugger off. Shockingly, the cherub turned its head and looked at me before sending me a binaric prompt.
<++Administrative level directive received, please clarify the distance or destination for this unit to relocate.++>
Surprised, I simply pointed to the far end of the library, ‘just … move along.’ Instead of floating away immediately, the cherub landed onto the floor before giving me a deep bow.
<++Acknowledged, administrator.++>
After completing its flamboyant gesture, it started running towards the spot I pointed with the grace of a three year old and ran past Maylin like a playful child, giggling creepily all the way. So just like that I discovered the cherubs here, like most servo-skulls, responded to my thought commands unquestioningly.
Both the scholar and the preacher had their eyes glued onto the running homunculus, then Maylin turned to me with a puzzled face and a question. ‘Lady Syrine, how did you get a cherub to obey you?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I had visited this library multiple times, they never obey anyone except for the librarians and the tech-priests.’
Oops.
As I was wondering how to talk my way out of this, Welminah stepped in and explained with a straight face. ‘As the Holy Daughter, Lady Syrine’s divinity is recognised even by the cherubs residing here.’
‘Is that so?’ Maylin gasped, ‘can you kindly demonstrate again? I need to verify such claims to the Church.’
‘That should not be a problem. Am I correct, my lady?’ Welminah smiled and gave me a quick wink. I could even read what was on her mind, this is nothing compared to Baneblade tanks.
As one of the inner circle people in the know, Welminah was present all the way from the planning through the execution of the final civil war battle and witnessed it all. Since this was my screw up, I might as well put up a small show to complete the white lie.
‘Very well.’ I said and mentally ordered another nearby cherub to come over while doing a beckoning gesture to complete the act. The cherub I targeted immediately dropped its routine, hovered over and landed in front of me.
‘Do a proper greeting.’ I commanded.
It complied, to the delight of both girls and some random sisters peeking from the corners of the library, the cherub formed the Aquila hand sign to the best of its ability and bowed.
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‘Have a seat.’ I ordered again and it did as commanded, dropping its tiny back on the floor while looking at us with its unnerving eyes.
‘Fascinating! Is it possible to ask it to do something that we have never seen before?’ Maylin asked excitedly, she had the energy of a pilgrim witnessing a miracle and could not wait to see more.
It was then I had a proper look at the cyborg baby, through the transcendent level of intellect residing in me, I got a better understanding of these constructs.
These cherubs were controlled by cybernetically-augmented biological cortexes and nervous systems which allowed them to perform simple tasks. You could say they were a more complex version of servitors with some allowed perimeters for pre-programmed self expressions. The cherubs here were programmed with some preset tasks but otherwise reverted to a sort of holding pattern until they received overriding commands from an accepted figure of authority.
I looked at the girls with their faces of expectation and wondered for a moment what would impress them. Then a ridiculous idea crossed my mind. Many many years ago when Holy Terra was a happier place, in the primordial days of its internet, a video featuring an animated dancing baby had once become a trending phenomenon.
Activating thought acceleration, I first analysed the rough movements of the dancing baby in the video inside my mind. That done, I imprinted the movement sequence to the cherub via my connection to it and let its internal system sort out the details.
<++Affirmative.++> It replied.
‘Alright little fella, what is the best dance routine you’ve hidden from the world? Show them what you got.’ I said to the cherub, which was a purely theatrical display for my audience, then dropped my mental command.
<++Complying.++> The cherub stood up and started the whimsical dance sequence. Just like the viral video, it was soon swinging its arms back and forth with its head bobbing up and down. Moving to the beat of an unheard music, it also bounced up and down on its toes, occasionally taking a step or two to the side while rotating on the spot.
The chubby little bugger spun and twirled, dipped and bounced with all the unbridled enthusiasm a homunculus could muster. For a moment the dancing cherub had become a tornado of motion on the library floor. Completing the package were the cherub’s uncanny facial expressions, its eyes were wide open with artificial excitement, its mouth opened in a toothless grin while it repeated the dancing sequence on the spot again and again to the uproar of everyone present.
It still looked darn creepy to me but my audience seemed to disagree with that notion. Their reaction spoke of visceral excitement and joy, like some fangirls witnessing their idol’s live performance. Even the previously peeping sisters on corners of the library had come out to check out the little bugger’s performance up close.
It was becoming a ruckus and the noise was fast getting out of hand, so I clapped my hands and ordered the cherub to stop. It complied by finishing a last spin before taking a bow and sat down again like nothing ever happened, to the applause of all the ladies nearby.
‘That was amazing!’ Maylin exclaimed and the others agreed. Some random sisters even went up to the cherub, teasing it to dance again to no avail. The atmosphere was getting lively here.
‘Won’t the librarian get angry if we made too much noise?’ I asked while looking around.
‘A librarian is right here.’ Said a sister, pointing at Welminah.
Eh? I looked at Welminah, she returned my inquisitive stare with an apologetic smile. ‘All members of the Orders Dialogous share responsibility in maintaining the monastery library.’
She then bent down to the cherub and talked to it like speaking to an old friend. ‘Eta-55, resume standard routine.’ The cyborg baby nodded, stood back up and floated away, ending our little show.
Huh, sisters of the Dialogous Order maintaining huge monastery libraries. How did I miss something so obvious?
*Buzz* Just as the small crowd started to disperse. Welminah’s communicator sounded. ‘Speaking. Yes she is with me. Very well.’ Welminah turned to me. ‘Your training session venue is ready, would you like to go now?’
‘Yes please.’
‘Please follow me.’
Upon knowing I was attending a private training session, Maylin could not hide her disappointment of being unable to attend and observe.
Soon, in a small training hall where only three people were present, my training with the imperial assassin started under the supervision of Veritta. Strangely on a table beside us were two egg trays, one was empty while the other had a dozen eggs on it.
Niandra was demonstrating what she could do with her strength by bending an extra thick metallic rod into a “U” shape. She made it look so easy, without knowing better one would think the rod in question was a piece of modelling clay. She then straightened the rod back effortlessly before passing it to me. ‘Here, you try it.’
I held on to the metal rod, felt its significant gravity pull and was suddenly unsure if I could do it. Holding each of the rod’s ends with my hands, I imitated her stance and pressed hard. The rod bent but did not go all the way. I pressed and pressed but the piece of stupid rod stubbornly refused to bend further.
Hold on a second, where did my strength go? Didn’t I just cut through human flesh with a hand chop?
Niandra cocked her head and crossed her arms, silently observing my helplessness for a while before commenting, ‘you … have to go all the way.’
All the way?
I breathed deep, increased my strength output and pressed again. The rod bent slightly further, but far from forming a “U” shape.
‘More.’ Niandra said flatly. Flustered, I summoned more power and in my frustration, crossed an unseen line. A scary level of strength I normally had no access to poured forth and the metal rod gave way. It was so sudden my hands almost hit each other and the rod was bent into a teardrop shape.
‘Good, remember how that feels. Now bend it back.’ Niandra said.
‘Won’t it eventually break from metal fatigue?’ I was curious.
‘Not for this material.’
I did as told but was conscious of my crossing of the human threshold this time, the rod was easily stretched back to its straightened form and Veritta gave a small applause.
‘Very good, now do this to see how much control you have over your strength.’ Niandra said while taking back the rod and started demonstrating a new sequence.
First she bent the rod again, as soon as it became “U” shape she put the rod aside and moved an egg from one container to the next. Then she unbent the rod and proceeded to move another egg. ‘Now you try.’
I bent the rod as easily as before but when I touched an egg it popped the moment my hand touched it. Wow?
‘Be always conscious of the amount of strength you are exerting.’ Niandra lectured. ‘Without proper control you might accidentally kill someone if you mixed up different strength usages,’ she explained without further elaborating but I was already imagining a possible gruesome scenario. One moment I might be lifting something super heavy when a random person got too close, forgetting my current strength output I moved a hand to push the person away and … that’s how you get human goo.
I wiped my hand on a prepared towel and went at it again, popping two more eggs before succeeding with the rest. Niandra nodded in approval. ‘Excellent control, do this training again in the future whenever you need a refresher. That was faster than expected, we still have some time left, what do you want to do next?’
I looked at the imperial assassin, remembering from the games I knew their combat prowess supposedly rivalled if not surpassing even most space marine captains. While I was never into real fighting, would I be able to beat her in mock combat with my raw baseline stats alone?
‘Can we do hand to hand combat duels?’ I asked.
‘Nothing that risks injuries, please.’ Veritta chipped in quickly.
Niandra just looked at me with a hint of interest until an almost impossible to perceive smirk appeared on her face. She then nodded, held up a few fingers while starting to lay down ground rules. ‘You heard the sister. We have to make it a safe and civilised affair. First, no usage of strength above the human threshold, something you just mastered. Second, certain techniques are off limits. No striking to the back of the head or spine, no eye-gouging, no fish-hooking, no biting, no hair-pulling, no groin strikes…’
And that was how I got my first chance to test myself against a real deal. I was excited, this was the ultimate theory test of nature versus nurture. Pitting raw demigod statlines against a seasoned and hardened Assassinorum operative would be interesting, right? Even with the low odds I got a chance at winning this, right?
Under the supervision of a worried-looking Veritta, I adopted a stance dug out from memories of my internet trawling days, raising my hands up before me as I crouched on solidly-planted feet. Niandra in contrast relaxed herself, standing casually with her hands hanging loosely.
We exchanged silent stares for a few seconds before I decided to move. I launched my body onwards, covering the distance between us in a blink of an eye. My right arm locked back, chambered and ready to whip out once I got close enough.
As fast as I was with my transhuman abilities, Niandra was just as fast, if not faster. My feet barely touched the ground again when she took a step towards me and raised a hand that greeted my hurtling body. My sternum ran into her fist with a loud crack and I was sent crashing into the ground.
While I reflexively winced for the impact, defying my mortal expectation both the hit and the harsh landing did not hurt much at all. Since this body could withstand jumping from a few floors and land with contemptuous ease, this level of impact was literally nothing.
Standing up, I tried again by leaping to the left to flank Niandra. The assassin replied by dashing past me and lashing her leg out. Her shin caught the back of my knees and in the next instant I was tumbling face first to meet my new friend, the ground, again.
Thinking fast, I rolled into the fall, my face only briefly smashing into the floor before I pushed myself up on my feet. Before I could even regain my bearings, Niandra was suddenly right in front of me.
I barely twisted away from a jab to my face, just in time to register a protest from Veritta but that only left me exposed to a rising knee into my guts. Instinctively, my hands came out to try and catch the attack, but Niandra then took the opportunity to slam her forehead into mine, soliciting another loud objection from the sister hospitaller. Once more I fell, and I was grateful that my body did not feel pain so keenly.
‘Nian! No hitting on the face!’ Veritta berated her colleague.
‘Relax, these levels of attacks won’t leave any marks,’ Niandra replied calmly. ‘Even if it did, with her physiology she would heal in no time.’
After catching my breath, I decided to refine my attack. I lunged straight at her for the third time, my senses tuned to the max for this focused attack. Things slowed down, in time dilation I saw how Niandra moved and could not stop myself from marvelling at the sheer fluidity of her movements. Like a ghost she once more slipped past my effective fighting range, but I was ready for her.
Or I thought I was.
I sent a readied punch to intercept her approach, but she simply ducked under it and replied with a quick jab into the armpit of my swinging arm. Powering through the numbing impact, I used my other arm to deliver an uppercut into her body that was sure to hit.
Niandra batted aside the strike with such force that I was spun about, and then I was struggling as her arms were suddenly wrapped around my neck in a tight chokehold. I futilely tried to struggle free or hit her in an effort to break her grip, but all that got me was a slow descent into the embrace of my old friend, the ground. With Niandra’s legs wrapped around my arm and body, I tapped out.
After being released, I voiced my objection. ‘No fair, why am I always doing the attacking. Let me try defending for a change.’
Niandra almost smirked again. ‘That can be arranged.’
Ouch. I got trashed.
Laying on the floor looking at the ceiling, my mind was running back at how the imperial assassin proved her lethality with expertly executed combat moves done with inhuman grace.
While they say you never knew until you tried, in hindsight it was kind of expected. Despite having the body and agility of a mini demi-godling, I was overcome by Niandra’s ferocity and unparalleled combat experience.
The imperial assassin displayed no fixed discernable fighting style, her moves reminded me of various martial arts; a hint of Kung Fu here, a bit of Karate there, flashes of Judo, hints of Krav Maga and dashes of Muay Thai. The only real emphasis of all her moves was brutal efficiency and effectiveness, the whole package delivered with lightning fast precision strikes.
The fights, if you could call them that, were brief affairs that ended so fast I did not even have time to work up a sweat. The later sessions of our mock battles had become so one sided I became frustrated and was forcing a slight resemblance of a win to no avail.
My little tricks and thought acceleration proved to be little help. Niandra was always a few steps ahead, whereas momentary time freezing was just like pressing the pause button in a losing game to look around, providing little but a slight delay to the inevitable. In this ultra tight close quarter melee, speed and strength with precision triumphs everything. It ended with me being body slammed onto the floor, prompting Veritta to call out in protest against possible injuries.
Aware that Niandra’s time with me was running out and yielding to her prowess, I stayed on the floor as Veritta hurried over to check on me. Silly girl, such level of body slamming can’t hurt an apex transhuman.
‘I am fine, only my self confidence is hurt.’ I whimpered as Niandra entered my view with her usual unreadable expression.
‘That was bad, huh?’ I lamented.
‘You telegraphed your moves too much. Your movements were fast but rigid and slightly restrained by your attire.’ She said matter-of-factly.
‘Can I have more sessions like this with you?’
‘We will see.’
Throne be damned, I hated the idea of being in a state comparable to a useless goddess so much. Starting from now, I will do whatever I can to gain daily life proficiencies and combat prowess.