09-30-2016, 06:13 PM
Katchina hadn't bothered to look around Georgetown after her plane had landed and she'd checked into her hotel. The call of a set of white sheets and down pillow had been too much to resist, especially after that obscure run-in at the shuttle pick-up with that woman getting into some sort of scuffle with a taxicab driver. Three TSA agents had been on hand to defuse the situation. It seemed like everyone was on pins and needles, here. No, she'd never been to Washington before, but as soon as she'd lain down she was out.
The next morning was uneventful. Katch awoke before dawn and sat motionless while watching the sun rise, running herself through her exercises in embracing and releasing the Power. Each time she released, she suppressed a sigh as she exhaled. The temptation to hold on for just a bit longer, just drink in a little more, gnawed at her. Letting go was like having the light of the world ripped from her, leaving her empty. A reminder that she would never, ever see her father again in this life. It had to be endured and accepted, and for this reason she put herself through these exercises. She had to embrace the emptiness as much as the fullness or the temptation would pull her in.
She picked over breakfast downstairs to satisfy what little appetite she had and checked in at the front desk, where transportation had been arranged to take her to the Kennedy Department of Justice building. As she sat in the back of the black sedan while it navigated through the streets of Washington she paid some bills -- wincing at the dismal amount of emergency savings she had left (father would never approve!) and glanced over her emails. Her new military superior over at the CDC Major Harris was already harassing her for a status report. She ignored it for now.
Pretty soon, the driver rolled down the window and announced that they were pulling up to the Robert F. Kennedy building. Katch glanced out at the long, gray stone building with a single triangular archway supported by three long pillars, and neat rows of identical windows that went on for at least a city block. They immediately reminded her of filing cabinets. Thousands and thousands of filing cabinets all stacked in rows, these little impersonal offices all generating, processing and grinding through the paperwork that fed the machinery of a federal executive department.
The shuttle dropped Katch off and she was escorted into the building, where she cleared through two security checkpoints, including one where the inspector got a bit handsy. She arced her eyebrow at the inspector and tapped her heel impatiently. With her black knee-length skirt and red blouse, no jacket, and small clasp purse, it wasn't like there were many places for her to conceal anything. Besides, she didn't need a weapon if she wanted to cause mayhem -- and everyone probably knew that already.
Katch was sent to the office of Assistant Attorney General John Donaghy, and when she arrived she was greeted by a woman maybe just barely old enough to be her grandmother, with silver blue hair that matched her blue blazer. She was looking at a jar on her desk and had quite a smirk on her face, like someone had told her a funny joke she couldn't get out of her head. The woman looked up. "May I help you?"
Katch gave her a smile and dipped her head slightly. "I'm Katchina Makawee, I'm here to see Mr. Trujillo,"
she replied.
"Mm hmm." The woman glanced at screen and pointed over to a room without looking up. "Have a seat in there. Mr. Trujillo is in meeting with Assistant Attorney General Donaghy at the moment. I'll send you in some coffee."
Katch smiled and went into the waiting room. True to her word, coffee arrived promptly. She took a sip and sat back in her chair. Minutes passed. She wondered what they were talking about that was taking so long. I wonder...
She reached out and embraced the Power, letting it flow into her. Right away her senses sharpened. The crisp black coffee filled her nostrils, the fluorescent lights grew in intensity -- and sounds sharpened. She leaned back against the wall. Muffled sounds came to her ear. Perhaps she could weave a...a cone of sorts, to distill or amplify the sound. She tried it, with Air. It took the shape more of a tube. It was very dim, but words started to come through. They were talking about registration? Perhaps there might be some place for that, but not in the sense that had been done in the CCD. She shuddered at the thought of any registry getting in the wrong hands. Or what happened when the a channeler went berserk? It would give the government easy access to rounding them up.
Katch continued to listen. Until she heard footsteps. Then she released the power and smoothed out her skirts, taking another sip of her coffee.
The next morning was uneventful. Katch awoke before dawn and sat motionless while watching the sun rise, running herself through her exercises in embracing and releasing the Power. Each time she released, she suppressed a sigh as she exhaled. The temptation to hold on for just a bit longer, just drink in a little more, gnawed at her. Letting go was like having the light of the world ripped from her, leaving her empty. A reminder that she would never, ever see her father again in this life. It had to be endured and accepted, and for this reason she put herself through these exercises. She had to embrace the emptiness as much as the fullness or the temptation would pull her in.
She picked over breakfast downstairs to satisfy what little appetite she had and checked in at the front desk, where transportation had been arranged to take her to the Kennedy Department of Justice building. As she sat in the back of the black sedan while it navigated through the streets of Washington she paid some bills -- wincing at the dismal amount of emergency savings she had left (father would never approve!) and glanced over her emails. Her new military superior over at the CDC Major Harris was already harassing her for a status report. She ignored it for now.
Pretty soon, the driver rolled down the window and announced that they were pulling up to the Robert F. Kennedy building. Katch glanced out at the long, gray stone building with a single triangular archway supported by three long pillars, and neat rows of identical windows that went on for at least a city block. They immediately reminded her of filing cabinets. Thousands and thousands of filing cabinets all stacked in rows, these little impersonal offices all generating, processing and grinding through the paperwork that fed the machinery of a federal executive department.
The shuttle dropped Katch off and she was escorted into the building, where she cleared through two security checkpoints, including one where the inspector got a bit handsy. She arced her eyebrow at the inspector and tapped her heel impatiently. With her black knee-length skirt and red blouse, no jacket, and small clasp purse, it wasn't like there were many places for her to conceal anything. Besides, she didn't need a weapon if she wanted to cause mayhem -- and everyone probably knew that already.
Katch was sent to the office of Assistant Attorney General John Donaghy, and when she arrived she was greeted by a woman maybe just barely old enough to be her grandmother, with silver blue hair that matched her blue blazer. She was looking at a jar on her desk and had quite a smirk on her face, like someone had told her a funny joke she couldn't get out of her head. The woman looked up. "May I help you?"
Katch gave her a smile and dipped her head slightly. "I'm Katchina Makawee, I'm here to see Mr. Trujillo,"
she replied.
"Mm hmm." The woman glanced at screen and pointed over to a room without looking up. "Have a seat in there. Mr. Trujillo is in meeting with Assistant Attorney General Donaghy at the moment. I'll send you in some coffee."
Katch smiled and went into the waiting room. True to her word, coffee arrived promptly. She took a sip and sat back in her chair. Minutes passed. She wondered what they were talking about that was taking so long. I wonder...
She reached out and embraced the Power, letting it flow into her. Right away her senses sharpened. The crisp black coffee filled her nostrils, the fluorescent lights grew in intensity -- and sounds sharpened. She leaned back against the wall. Muffled sounds came to her ear. Perhaps she could weave a...a cone of sorts, to distill or amplify the sound. She tried it, with Air. It took the shape more of a tube. It was very dim, but words started to come through. They were talking about registration? Perhaps there might be some place for that, but not in the sense that had been done in the CCD. She shuddered at the thought of any registry getting in the wrong hands. Or what happened when the a channeler went berserk? It would give the government easy access to rounding them up.
Katch continued to listen. Until she heard footsteps. Then she released the power and smoothed out her skirts, taking another sip of her coffee.