Under the Shadow of Her Wing
An A Certain Scientific Railgun fanfic by Achariyth
"No girl wants to grow up to be the bride of Frankenstein." Kuroko Shirai waved her spoon in the air as she spoke.
Kazari Uiharu shuddered and looked around the ice cream parlor that had become her friends' favorite hangout. "Keep it down." For once, Shirai hadn't gathered the attention of the other diners.
Mikoto Misaka inched away from the ice cream dripping from Shirai's spoon. "We just want you to be careful. Too many of those experiments have hidden costs."
"I know what I'm doing," Kazari said between bites of cheesecake. "Besides, I have her promise that nothing untoward will happen."
"I've heard that before," Misaka grumbled and looked out the window.
"Wow, Uiharu, if the stars in your eyes got any brighter, we wouldn't need the sun." Shirai leaned over the table and tapped Kazari's nose with her ice cream spoon.
"Don't do that!" Kazari covered her nose with a napkin. "Besides, you can't tell me that you don't want to get stronger."
"Remember what happened to Saten," Misaka said.
As if Kazari could ever forget. She had been on the phone with Ruiko Saten when Saten had slipped into a coma, yet another victim of a brainwave altering program designed to improve esper abilities. Kazari's eyes flickered to the empty seat beside her. Months after she recovered, Saten still had to attend special seminars for treatment. "It isn't the same."
"Just keep practicing. After a while, all the hard work makes using your powers easy," Shirai said.
Kazari rolled her eyes. Shirai often boasted about her ability to quickly solve the twelve variable equations sets needed to use her teleportation powers. Those problems were dwarfed by the complexity of the thermodynamics problems Kazari had to solve. Some days, she marveled that she could even maintain a constant temperature with her abilities.
"...that's how Sissy did it after all."
"Kuroko-" Misaka winced as she watched Kazari's face, the shrieked as Shirai tackled her.
"If it's so easy, why aren't you a Level 5, Shirai?" Kazari jumped to her feet and shook her finger at her friends. As years of pent-up emotion burst forth, Misaka and Shirai froze and stared. "Or why isn't anyone a Level 6? You're right, it is hard work, but I think you've forgotten what it takes to get there. I can't snap my fingers and jump up three levels, as awesome as that might be, and I'm not lazy. Why should I be? You two get to do all the cool stuff; do you think I want to be left behind?
"I know the risks as does every single person who volunteers for a new Esper study. But the fact is that the higher your Level is, the better off you are. Why else do you think that a legion of Level 0's and 1's are trying everything just to make it to Level 2? At least this time I don't have to worry about someone messing with my mind."
Out of the corner of her eye, Kazari noticed that the ice cream parlor had ground to a stop. All eyes were on her. Her cheeks grew incandescent as she dropped back into her seat, shrinking into the far corner.
Misaka found her voice. "Take it easy, Uiharu. We're just worried." She pushed Shirai away, toppling the smaller girl back into her seat. "We wouldn't be doing our job if we didn't ask questions."
Tittering, Shirai perked up, flashing a predatory smile and a fist full of the metal spikes she fought with.
"Anyway, the surgery is tomorrow, right?" As Shirai's giggling grew into a full-bodied cackle, Misaka threw her arm out in front of her friend.
Looking away, Kazari shifted in her seat. "It's nothing major..."
"Nonsense. We'll be there for you when you go into surgery and when you wake up."
Kuroko caught her breath and pinned a green armband to her sleeve. "Besides, someone's got to keep Saten from flipping up the hem of your hospital gown."
"Shirai!" Kazari huddled in the corner of her booth, trembling.
Kazari whistled as she played her fingers across a touchscreen tablet, desperately trying not to look through the gaps of a privacy curtain that hid less than her breezy surgical gown. Shivering, she tapped the compile button and cinched a cotton robe tight around her waist. Her hospital bed sat right underneath the Arctic air gusting from the air vents.
An hourglass icon tumbled across the tablet's screen as the compiler program tested her code. It squawked, spitting out a dense scrawl of red errors. Sighing, Kazari mashed the power button with her thumb. She hated coding on her tablet; give her a proper keyboard and her programs practically grew on their own. Force her to use the swipe and pull of a touchscreen, and Kazari was all thumbs.
Taking great care not to tug against the IV in her arm, Kazari set her tablet down on a nearby tray. Her eyes lit upon a single beaded ripcord, used to call the nurses.
She could still walk away.
The idea welled up in Kazari's mind, unbidden and pernicious. As Shirai was fond of saying, no girl wanted to be the bride of Frankenstein. She had even droned endlessly about it until the nurses shoved her out through the waiting room's doors. But Kazari knew what Shirai was trying to say. The relentless development of Esper powers had left scores of shattered lives in its wake. Something as simple as a bad infection during surgery could add Kazari to that flotsam. Worse still were the unknown numbers of shadowy projects marked only by blood and tears. Kazari's work with Judgment occasionally brushed against lives wrecked by those unburdened by morality or restraint.
This time, Kazari knew it would be different. No doubt the orphans in Dr. Kiyama's class thought the same, just before they slipped into their comas. But her doctor wasn't trying to improve her mind-
Kazari reached out and ran her fingers down the cord.
The privacy curtains slid open. Kazari jumped and wrapped her arms across her paper gown and thin white robe.
The nurse smiled as she entered the room. "It's just me. We're ready for your nerve block." She looked at Kazari's face and sighed. "Your excitable little friend told you a bunch of whoppers again? I hope you haven't been dwelling on them, but if you're scared, we can wait a bit."
Kazari gulped and shook her head. This was her idea, after all, so it wouldn't be right to make another go through with it instead.
The nurse traded a blanket for the robe and raised the rails on Kazari's bed before wheeling her through the halls to the anesthesiologist's office. It reminded Kazari of the wagon rides she enjoyed as a child, then she remembered the orphans once more. As the anesthesiologist rolled an ultrasound wand across her elbow, Kazari hoped she was making the right decision.
Counting backwards from one hundred, per the doctor's orders, she wasn't sure...
As she sat at a table surrounded by a garden of filigree and lace, Kazari frowned at Shirai's black dress. One always wore colour to a European tea party, especially one hosted at the Monegasque chancery in Academy City. Not everyone in Judgment took the rules of Elegance as serious as Kazari did. She had even left her flowery hairband in her dorm. At least Chief Konori was dressed accordingly in a red dress Kazari hoped she would be brave enough to wear before she turned twenty.
The three Judgment officers had been assigned to the Swan Princess's security detail only because Kazari had pestered Konori until the precinct chief had worn down her superiors until they relented. After all, royalty rarely visited Academy City, much less one of the few actual princesses in the world: Her Serene Highness Princess Rania Grimaldi of Monaco. Against that splendor, even the Queen of Tokiwadai Middle School might as well have been a distant star.
Not that Her Serene Highness needed three schoolgirls to protect her. If an assassin managed to slip past the combined Judgment and Anti-Skill detail, he would still need to deal with the Prince Consort. A notorious gunman from Texas, he would be no sooner removed from his beloved dueling pistols than from his Nymph of a wife. He recognized the need to train new officers, even if the rookies occasionally needed to be shown which spoon to use or what to wear.
Red-faced, Shirai set down her spoon and sat on her hands. Glowering as Chief Konori walked away from the doily-covered table, the pixyish Judgment officer leaned towards Kazari. "You should have warned me."
"I believe I did." Kazari adjust her flowery hairband before sipping her tea.
"I'm going to go change."
"Wear a longer skirt this time."
Hissing, Shirai teleported away, leaving Kazari alone at the table. The slight Judgment officer reached for another cup of tea. Looking up, she caught Chief Konori's vinegar glare from across the room.
Duty called.
This time her responsibilities were lighter than a feather. Kazari fluttered from group to group, her normal guise of demure professionalism bubbling away into a social butterfly's pure delight. After all, when else would she get the chance to meet Misaki Shokuhou or the queens of the high schools, much less the Swan Princess herself? She preened at every moment, poised for a camera that would have een too gauche to carry. That job belonged to her office computer, diligently downloading the security feeds.
With a second glance, Chief Konori ended Kazari's idyllic flight.
In a corner, Kazari waited for the last of the crimson fire to fade from her cheeks. Slipping back into her demure cocoon, she sighed.
"You made quite the splash out there."
Kazari spun around, her eyes wide. A blonde woman in a bespoke skirt suit stood nearby. The slight Judgment officer balled her fists as her cheeks glowed again. "I've always wanted to come here."
The woman's hazel eyes sparkled like gemstones. "Same with me. It's like being in Italy during the Renaissance."
"Really? Because I'm still waiting for the artists." Kazari's high society dream included being the patronne of her own atelier.
Her new companion laughed, brushing a stray lock behind her ear. "Give it time. Who knows, maybe one of your classmates might be the next da Vinci or Alighieri with their Esper powers?"
"It might be a long wait. My teachers talk about changing personal realities, but it all comes down to math at the end." Shuddering, Kazari banished the unbidden equations for entropy, enthalpy, and efficiency from her mind. "It can be a bit much to keep track of with just your mind."
"I figured that they gave you tools to help out."
"The math itself is easy, but only if I have pen and paper, or, even better, MATLAB nearby. It's getting the answer from the computer to where I can actually use it that's hard." Kazari tapped her temple. "So the scientists try to find new ways to think and newer ways to abstract the process."
Her companion motioned to a nearby set of chairs. "Too many find it more desirable to try to make better men than better tools." She grew distant, haunted, as she sat down. There was a story held in by the woman's strained smile. "It's much easier to make the tools."
As Kazari took her seat, she hid her own stories behind a placid mask. "I'm sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Kazari Uiharu of Judgment's 177th branch."
The woman's eyes lit up with green fire. Beckoning with her hand, she leaned close to Kazari. "They call me serene. Isn't that sweet of them?" A mischievous smile played across her lips.
Babbling, Kazari leapt to her feet and dipped into a shaky curtsy.
Princess Rania of Monaco frantically motioned for Kazari to sit back down. "Stop that. I didn't go through all this effort for no reason." She brushed back the edge of her blonde wig just enough the show Kazari a strand of darker hair.
Kazari bit back a squeal. Not only was she talking to a real princess, but one who walked incognito through the people, just like the fairy tales. For that, Judgment might forgive her for not recognizing the principal of her security detail.
A ruddy man with thick muscular arms walked behind the princess. Kazari was brought out of her reverie by the sight of the two mammoth shooting irons riding on his hips. Normally only Anti-Skill brandished weapons so openly in Academy City, and even then never so cavalier. He squeezed the princess' shoulder.
The Swan Princess looked up at her husband and smiled. "Menelaus and I are polymaths. Esper powers fascinate us, both in what they can do for people and for technology. So it is a pleasure to meet a bright young woman like you with similar interests. I do hope you can stay a little longer after the tea party."
Kazari though she would faint from joy.
Kazari sat at a conference table and rubbed her wrist. Try as she might, she could not find the edge of the induction disk implanted underneath her skin. Thankfully, Saten was not nearby to chide Kazari about her new nervous tic.
The doctors had done their job well. Mere weeks after the surgery, the pencil-thin incision scar had vanished. Designed to convey information between her brain and a computer, the induction disk remained inert under a range of static and magnetic conditions, although that had not stopped Saten from trying to "hack" Kazari by plugging a USB stick into her flowery hairband. Save for Kazari's inability to leave her wrist alone, no trace of the surgery remained.
The door opened. Kazari looked up and hid her hands behind her back. "Good morning, Your Highness."
Doctor Rania Grimaldi sighed. "I wish you wouldn't do that. There's no room for formality in a doctor-patient relationship. Please call me 'Rania.'"
"But you're not a doctor, Your Grace."
"Grace is my great-grandmother's name, not mine. Besides, I had to learn a fair bit of the medical craft to design this." The Swan Princess, wearing surgical scrubs, sat across the table from Kazari and slid an electronic manacle towards her. "Remind me to add 'doctor' to my official titles."
Kazari eyed the metal and plastic bracelet. She rubbed her wrist one last time before reaching out with her right hand. "That's larger than the blueprints you showed me, Your-" Kazari bit back the rest of the honorific.
"Thank you." Doctor Grimaldi opened a manila folder and pursed her lips. "Menelaus overengineered the prototype, although he did install your programs."
"I noticed." Kazari slipped her wrist through the manacle and ratcheted it tight against her skin. She raised her arm over her head. It felt like working out with one of Saten's aerobic workout weights. Kazari wasn't surprised; the bracelet held the computer and the power supply needed to run the induction disk in her wrist. "The next one will be cuter, right?"
"I asked my husband the same thing. He told me that he'll 'make something more fitting for a maiden's wrist than that giant's pinky ring. Maybe even something with flowers.'" The princess's voice slipped into a Texas drawl. "So, ready to turn it on?"
Kazari waggled her fingers and nodded. She held her breath as Doctor Grimaldi flipped a switch on the device. A slight tingle ran up her arm, flaring into the familiar pins and needles of a struck elbow. She bit her lip and pointed to the bracelet.
Doctor Grimaldi twisted a dial on the bracelet. "How does that feel?
"Better."
"What's two plus two?"
"You can't be serious."
"Please humor me."
"Four."
"731 times 137?"
"100,147." Kazari pursed her lips. The answer had come as quickly as the previous one. By itself, that didn't mean anything. Academy City's schools, forced to teach linear algebra and differential equations to middle school students, taught an entire regiment of mathematical tricks designed to speed up calculation.
Doctor Grimaldi asked her to divide two binary numbers. The answer flashed into her mind in an instant. And it took longer to say the determinant of an 11x11 matrix than it did to find it. As she worked through Doctor Grimaldi 's rapid-fire math quiz, Kazari took to writing out the answers to save time. Finally, after one final derivation, the princess closed her notebook.
"How does it feel?"
Kazari beamed, flushed with a heady realization. "I'll never have trouble in math class again."
Doctor Montrose laughed. "Don't be surprised if your teachers take that away from you during your tests." She loosened the bracelet and slid it off of Kazari's wrist. "Hold out your other arm."
Kazari waited while the red laser light of an optical thermometer flashed over her wrists. "When can I start using my powers with it?"
"Have you been practicing your mental exercises?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Sighing, the doctor poked the skin on her left wrist. Kazari couldn't see any puffiness or redness where the manacle had touched her. "Let's say, about a week from now."
One month later, Kazari qualified as a Level 3 esper.
Her teachers, dutiful to their instructions, reported her improvement and her device to their superiors. Soon, Kazari found herself mired in an extensive battery of skill tests. As she met the challenges before her, technicians in the shadows swept frequencies around her, stole schematics from the Monegasque chancery, and designed new experiments.
Before her final test, a hidden antenna smuggled inside Kazari's room woke up, transmitting a detailed set of instructions designed to...shepherd a young woman's mind to a higher level of development.
Nestled in its nightstand charger, a light on Kazari's wristband began blinking.
After a revolving door of doctor's visits and esper tests, Kazari had grown weary of hospitals. Normally her power evaluations would be conducted at her school, but her recent tests had been conducted in one medical ward or another. At least she hadn't been required to trade her uniform for another paper gown, but the machines that poked and prodded her during her tests were no less invasive for it. Now, on the verge of her final battery of exams, she waited in a sterile examination room devoid of even magazines.
She pulled out her copy of the Pillow Book from her purse. Despite the interference of Academy City's scientists, her teachers still demanded that she keep up with her studies. Ignoring the blinking from the wristband at her side, she opened the book to a favorite passage and smiled. She often dreamed of playing along in Sei Shonagon's Heian court antics.
The door opened and a woman in pastel scrubs and a lab coat stepped inside. She sat a steaming Styrofoam cup on the counter and flipped open a Manila folder. Only then did she turn towards Kazari. "Are you ready to begin?"
Pursing her lips, Kazari set aside her book and nodded. The woman had to a lab assistant from the lack of stethoscope and social graces.
"Freeze this." The assistant handed over the cup, shaking her head as Kazari reached into her purse. "Without your device this time."
"Alright." Kazari palmed a wad of green cloth and slid it under her thigh. She took the cup in her hands and concentrated while the assistant waved an optical thermometer over the contents. The coffee inside continued to steam, making Kazari's mouth water. But not even the new ways of thinking needed to activate her wristband made even a snowflake's worth of change in the temperature. After a five minute struggle with futility, she set the cup down and shook out her hands.
The assistant turned away and scrawled notes into the folder. "Now try it again."
Kazari slide her wrist through the heavy bracelet and turned it until the magnets inside locked onto the thin plate in her wrist. Her eyes cut over towards the lab assistant and she covered the blinking diode with the green armband hidden under her seat.
"Is it working?" The assistant held the coffee in front of Kazari.
"Of course."
"Hard to believe that a machine can manage what the mind can't."
"You mean like a computer does?" Kazari grabbed the cup once more and ran through the checklist once more, estimating volume, apparent temperature, the thickness of insulation, and other variables as prompted into her mind by the computer strapped to her wrist.
She reached out and touched a nearby table leg. The computer built a shape in Kazari's mind, and, as she filled it with her thoughts, the coffee's heat flowed into the metal. The wispy steam drifted away, leaving a thin film of ice on the surface of the drink.
A shadow fell upon Kazari as the assistant loomed over her, blocking out the light. "How are you feeling?"
"Never better." Kazari set the block of ice on the table and stood up.
"You aren't light-headed?"
"Not at all. Should I be?"
The woman crowded closer. "The doctors warned me that there might be side effects when you used that."
Kazari backed away from her. "You didn't get that from mine."
The woman seized Kazari's arm. "There's a specialist that's asked to see you. He's worried about your health." The assistant grabbed hold of Kazari's bracelet and jerked against the magnetic hold.
Kazari spun her hand in the assistant's grip and latched onto her attacker's forearm. "I wondered who had tried to hack my augment." Reaching out, she planted a hand against the wall. The assistant froze. "If you know who I am, you know what I do on Judgment's networks. Did you really think that I wouldn't use a firewall?"
The wall smoldered underneath Kazari's touch.
Blue-skinned and shivering, the assistant crumpled to the floor. Her eyes rolled back into her head.
Kazari shook as she reached down and checked for a pulse. Sliding her Judgment armband up her sleeve, she crashed through the door. "Doctor! I need a doctor in here!"
She ran screaming through the hall, past a pair of thuggish technicians pinned to the wall by a constellation of needles. Behind her, a pair of nurses rushed a crash cart into the examination room, accompanied by two armed Anti-Skill officers, Menelaus Montrose and his two pistols, and one pixyish Judgment officer with flowing pigtails.
Author's Notes:
Her Serene Highness Princess Rania of Monaco and her husband, Menelaus Montrose, appear anachronistically from their source, John Wright's Count to a Trillion, and are used without permission. In a setting where Science aims to usher in worse horrors than the Hermetic Millenia, I could think of no better guardian angels for Kazari Uiharu than the Swan Princess and the Judge of Ages.