He's back in his old leather costume, unmodified motorcycle helmet. Makes him feel old; he last belonged in it years ago. Cuts his effectiveness in half without the bot doing pathing for him, turning safeties on and off to manage where he might land, calculating angles.
There's a ring on his toe. It's not tracking his location, Dragon said, it'll just alert her if he takes it off or gets within three long hops of Baltimore without telling her in advance that he expects to be in D.C. or something. It's not listening in, just making sure he hasn't amputated the toe or tried to wreck the mechanism.
The air pocket is not within three long hops of Baltimore.
He thinks the ring is actually not listening, actually not tracking. He thinks.
He stands slightly to the right. He goes down.
It's a big, sealed cave, pitch dark. He has a flashlight.
He doesn't need it; the backup lights up like a Christmas tree as soon as he lands.
Rete sends Dragon a long email. History of conversation with Graph Paper; chain of reasoning; its analysis of the missing electronic trail.
Dragon investigates for thirty minutes on her own and dispatches a drone to Baltimore.
"- what - she - is she dropping off a -"
"The unit does not look self-destructible."
"Fëanáro Dragon came back -"
Mutters something in Quenya.
A bot goes out to the drone.
It comes back.
"The air pocket version explained our evidence to her and she has been convinced on her own recognizance that you were incorrectly placed here. She has a location in Hudson Bay to offer temporarily and will interface with the Protectorate."
"Download version control onto drive two - Fëanáro we're getting out we're going to Canada come on get up -"
Something else in Quenya. Doesn't sound cooperative.
Rete attempts to translate into Quenya.
He can stand up with enough leaning-on-her.
Yeah he still doesn't seem to be paying much attention.
It lets out onto an island.
"Canadian soil is safer than American for the time being. Is this enough space?"
"Lorica," he says agreeably. "Did the Valar come?"
He blinks slowly.
"Dragon. Good dragon. All the humans still the worst. 'Cept you. Love you. If island small could we go somewhere else?"
"Then's'good yeah. Lorica."
And he falls asleep.
"This island got Internet?"