"You are looking as jovial as ever, Nnamdi," Booku observes as I enter the shop. Even at six in the morning, the omnic is already at work on the pulse drive. I suspect he never stopped when I left yesterday evening.

"You really could stop working at some point, friend. It makes me feel lazy." I add in embarrassment.

"But sleep and social interaction aren't necessities for me, or for any omnic. It would be wasteful to spend critical hours doing things I don't need when I can apply them to things that I do."

I shake my head at my partner's complete lack of judgment on this score. "It's times like this where I wonder how omnics weren't total victors over us humans."

"Because while we are tireless, we are not flawless," Booku explains. "I have spent three times as many hours optimizing this drive as you have, but I could have spent twenty times as many on my own, and been no closer to a solution. Why? Because you were the one who reinvented this wheel, so to speak. You were the one that developed the 'echo chamber' as you call it that makes a drive of this size possible."

Pulse drives require remarkably little fuel for the energy they produce, which was what made them so useful in personal devices and passenger vehicles. However, as the mass of the object being propelled increases, the frequency and amplitude of the pulse necessary to push that mass with anything resembling reasonable acceleration becomes so great that it would lead to violent shaking that affects the performance and even structural stability of the craft.

Finding a solution had turned into a trillion credit industry. Everything from multiple drive configurations with staggered pulses (the critical flaw being that it proved to be impossible to stagger the pulses and keep the craft stable) to multiple drive configurations with synchronized pulses (which proved to be impossible to maintain over a few minutes duration even with a computer assist, and leading to much the same problem as the staggered drives).

Which lead to my 'echo chamber' solution; a chambered core that used similar technology as what is found on stealth aircraft to "compress" the pulses to the point that it fired at a rate where computer assists could make any minor corrections and emulate smooth propulsion.

The omnic looks up at me momentarily stopping the adjustments it was making. "Think of it as we are both given a clump of blocks, and plans for a house. I can build a house with those materials that is far superior than the original plans. You can take those same blocks and create a car, or a ship, or a statue of a horse. I, and many other omnics like me, lack that spark of creativity, and the few of us that do have that spark are more confused with it than blessed. Even though we are programmed in hexidecimal, our thought processes are still remarkably binary. It is nigh impossible for us to think beyond what our definitions allow us to."

It goes back to its task with a finishing line of, "To put an overly simplistic analogy on it, us omnics were more than capable of beating humans at chess in over a billion ways. That didn't help us once Overwatch started playing checkers with the pieces."

I bite my lower lip. Despite having known Booku for seven years at this point, I've been reluctant to broach this particular topic. "I've been meaning to ask you. You are certain that your platform existed before the Omnic Crisis. But I've never heard you talk about your experiences during them. I'm sure you weren't a soldier, but surely you remember a great deal."

Booku shakes its head. "I do not in fact. My... memory... the data that was stored in a way that I could retrieve doesn't start until shortly after Anubis was contained. I suspect most omnics would tell you the same. My theory is that our memories of before the resolution of the crisis were stored with whatever god AI program we were tethered to. In a sense, our sentience didn't actually begin until the god programs were sealed. We didn't become ourselves until our observations had no choice but to become our own."

That was rather what I was afraid of.

I don't get much opportunity to think on it further before I hear a trill of someone entering the main sales floor. We don't get many visitors, for while my shop is technically open to the public, the price tag for our services are usually far beyond what the average citizen can afford. Though we have certainly made exceptions for people in cases of emergency, in which case the cost is usually in the realm of zero.

But there was little knowing who this customer was until I went up to the main floor to meet him or her.

It turned out to be a Egyptian man, in a blue uniform suit with the insignia of Helix Security emblazoned on the right breast, and a company ID clipped to the pocket on the left. "Nnamdi Ngumi?" he says, offering his hand in greeting. As I take it, he introduces himself, "Habib Fadil, with Helix Security International."

"Were you one of the men tracking me last month?" I ask slyly.

He coughs nervously, then answers, "No. And I do apologize for that unauthorized mission. Had we known Captain Amari's intentions, we would not have acquiesced to it."

Booku had come up behind me, for the omnic offers, "Rest assured, my partner took no offense."

That I did not, but that was beside the point. "What can I do for you, Mr. Fadil?"

"The executive board in Cairo wishes to speak to you pertaining to a delicate matter that they think you might have some expertise in. I am here to see if that would be tenable and when such a meeting could take place."

I sense Booku look at me with concern, and I know why. There's only one thing that Helix Security would have interest in the Doomfist legacy for.

Anubis.

I'm not entirely certain what I could offer, as I don't have any solutions my grandfather didn't have... and that one isn't acceptable at this point.

But at the same time, I don't refuse the meeting if for selfish reasons, and we work out the details very quickly as Booku repeatedly interjects that I could be made available at any time and that it would gladly handle the shop work while I am gone.

Can an omnic be a wingman? I'd say yes.

The Helix representative doesn't hang around, not that I particularly want him to, because I have some messages to compose. Booku understands this, as he knowingly says, "It would seem you finally have your reason to go to Cairo."

Truth be told, I hadn't waited for a visit in person to begin a correspondence. Fareeha and I had been quite conversational in fact. This time, I resort to text because I'm not certain if she's in her office or out in the field, informing her that I had a meeting with her bosses in Cairo.

Her response was surprisingly fast, though also in text.

Do not tell me details. If they have not informed me of these plans, then I do not have the proper clearance, and I'd rather not get in more trouble.

She had been rather annoyed when the Numbani officers had learned that her orders to watch me had not been official, and she had received a light reprimand for her actions. I'd like to think that my repeated assurances that I had not been aggrieved had eased her punishment, though in reality, I suspect that they hadn't severely punished her because they found the information she had gathered to be useful themselves.

Very well.

Is this meeting in the morning, afternoon, or evening?

10:00 EET on the 7th.

Excellent. I have some personal days due to me, and I'll take one. Once your meeting is over, I'll show you around and then we'll have dinner. I know just the place. Nothing fancy, so don't worry about bringing an extra change of clothes.

Just for clarity, I type...

So, is this a date?

Her response had no hesitation.

Of course it is. Do not be silly.

That no doubt dumb grin creeps across my face again. While Fareeha has never been subtle or unclear about her intentions in our interactions, to hear it confirmed is still very welcome.

Then I will see you on the 7th. Be well.

So what if I'm acting like I'm a sixteen-year-old going on his first date? That... wouldn't be terribly far from the truth. Finding people that weren't intimidated of my family name upon introduction had been difficult. Of those that weren't, the overwhelming majority of them had some very deplorable personality traits that sought something from me.

It is probably why of those that would represent my "inner circle," most of them were omnics.

One such omnic warns me, "Nnamdi... the door."

I look up, and the smile vanishes. Ana is on the other side, somehow not triggering the automatic doors. She glares at me, points two fingers to her eyes, then one at me, before she vanishes in between blinks.

"I sense no small degree of animosity, and have detected her presence near you several times." Booku states. "Should I inform the police?"

I doubt that would do much good, so I decline. "If Ana meant any harm, she would have taken her shot by now. I fear the only thing that getting police involved would be to put them in a situation where they might overreact and lead to people getting hurt or killed."

"Understood. I'm merely not sure if someone clearly so imbalance can be trusted..."

Finally I explain, "She is Fareeha's mother."

Booku goes silent for a beat, and quips. "I see. Should I invite her in if she comes to the door again?"

I chuckle, "If you wish. If she accepts, I would recommend having some oolong tea ready. It is allegedly her favorite."

I have a box in my cupboard at home and in the pantry here for precisely that reason.

"Speaking of favorites, your present for Miss Fareeha did arrive last night. Did you receive it?"

"I did. And I'll think I'll use this trip as a reason to deliver it."

"Excellent."

If I had an extra spring in my step today, I think I had good reason for it. Not even Ana's ever watchful eye was going to dampen my spirits.

The following three days, however, felt like the longest of my life. Booku suggested that part of that could be that I hadn't allowed myself a vacation in the six years since I first opened my shop. Though I reminded him that the trip was for business, he correctly observed that said business wasn't why I was so eager.

But that didn't change that there was business to attend to, and that I wanted to be as on top of it as I could be going into the meeting with the leaders of Helix Security.

Using the Eye over the next three days, I dig into the pertinent events regarding Anubis. Immediately, I find a report from Fareeha, detailing an incident where the god AI shook off its shackles and started causing chaos before her team could subdue it again.

A report following from the programmer who finally brought Anubis back to heel cited a lack of funding, poor research and development, and unwillingness to maintain the facilities as reason for the break. The corporate body's report contested those claims, citing a lack of diligence on the part of the programmers to keep the shackling program updated as the primary reason for the failure of containment.

This was all very troubling to absorb. The god AI programs were nigh infinitely adaptable, but in their reduced function state, none of them should have been able to slip their leash so quickly. It was imperative to determine the cause quickly, and fix those problems.

I entertain expanding my search outside of Helix Security, but really the only place that I could potentially get more information relevant to Anubis would be from the Egyptian Defense Ministry itself. And as eager as I am to go further... I'm not so confident in the abilities of the Eye that I was willing to potentially engage in what could be determined as an act of war by infiltrating a government military institution.

So, I wait. And at one in the morning on the 7th, I wake up for the big day. In truth, I could be in Cairo in twenty minutes, but I'd rather not cause an international incident. So, I have to travel legit, which means supersonic travel only within the designated freeways. And that makes what could be less than a half hour into a three hour trip. Factor in a four time zone difference and the desire to be there early, as you are expected to be when dealing with corporate brass, and that leads to a really long day for me.

But I tell myself that it'll all be worth it.

The automated driving system allows me to get a little extra sleep, though I have to rouse myself before we reach any border checks. Sleeping at the wheel, even with an autopilot, can be a pretty hefty fine.

The day quickly becomes a whirlwind of "hurry up and wait" once I reach Helix Security's corporate offices in downtown Cairo. They own an entire building to themselves, as far as I can tell, and probably why they want to have the meeting here rather than in Numbani, which as I recall amounted to two floors somewhere in a shared high rise just off the Financial District.

And apparently, so much going on that they can't even keep to their own meeting times.

By 10:17am, I'm escorted into their "green room" with instructions to help myself to anything inside, including a mini-bar, massage parlor, and sauna. I don't exactly avail myself of any of them as it is still far too early to be drinking, and I'd rather not shrug out of this suit just to put it all back on again.

At 10:29, two other men in Helix dress uniforms enter the green room, and I initially stand thinking that the time for my meeting has finally arrived. The first one, a tall heavily built Egyptian man held up his hand and said, "While we will be escorting you to the boardroom, that time isn't quite yet." He looks at my arms, and gestures to them. "No gauntlets?"

"I only bring them with me when I anticipate combat. Are you suggesting I was mistaken by not wearing them?"

He shrugs, "Well, I'm told the board gets into some heated fights..."

I don't mean to sound annoyed, but I probably do. "If the board is not ready, what brings you here?"

The other, a younger, slender man explained, "We wanted to have a talk with the new Doomfist, you see, and it seemed like now was as good of a time as any. I am Tariq Khalil, and my partner is Saleh Toghay."

We exchange handshakes, as I introduce myself, perhaps redundantly. "Nnamdi Ngumi. A pleasure to meet you."

Saleh's gets a suggestive half-grin. "Not nearly as much of a pleasure as it was meeting our captain though, I'm sure."

"Although I can see why she got so smitten," Tariq observes.

Now, this discussion just turned promising. "Oh?"

Saleh chuckled, "Never seen the woman like that. She came back from Numbani after helping quell the riots, despite our bosses strongly suggesting she shouldn't by the by, flushed from temple to chin. Claimed she was worn out from fighting... but no one had ever seen her like that. So we got to digging. Eventually Tariq discovered she had called the Numbani office looking for surveillance on you, and we started putting it together, even as she threatened to put us on a run through the Sahara if we made too much noise about it."

I now remember Fareeha talking about them. "She is your commanding officer, then?" I ask.

Tariq nodded, "I started in Giza, but was transferred to the quick response team Captain Pharah leads. While I'm sure you've already heard it a hundred times from every man and woman with a title in this company, I sincerely hope that her actions didn't reflect poorly."

I grin. "Not at all. With my family name, I've gotten rather used to being watched. I hadn't thought anything of it until your captain herself brought it to my attention during her Red Cross mission to Cape Town."

"I wonder if that's why she took a personal day?" Saleh wondered. "Wonder if our bosses didn't even want her in the building when you came in and made her take one."

As much as it seemed like Fareeha didn't want her coworkers knowing about her personal life, at the same time I couldn't stand as her name was besmirched by her subordinates. "I'll have you know her personal day was her own decision," I declare firmly before my smile cracks through, "She is preparing for our date tonight, after all."

Saleh and Tariq's eyebrows raise in unison, and they look at each other bemusedly. "Tariq... get me a drink. I think we're both going to need one as we gather some wonderful ammunition."

In truth, they do most of the talking for the next hour. There's not much I'm willing to share about the couple of adventures Fareeha and I had, and even less about our conversations after. Saleh and Tariq, on the other hand, prove to be veritable fonts of amusing tales.

It was actually quite a relief to learn that Fareeha had been as flustered as I was after our first meeting, and she had guiltily confided in Tariq in much the same way that I had to Father Adande. She had always seemed so collected and sure of herself that to learn she was a bundle of nerves all yesterday planning an itinerary and wardrobe (though her team didn't know that at the time) was endearing.

Then finally, at 11:41am, Sariq's comm buzzes. He looks down, and sighs, "Alright. Time's up. Let's bring this fellow to his meeting with the brass."

The pair took the lead, and Tariq says, "I wouldn't mind talking some more after your meeting if you're up to it. We really didn't get the chance to pry into you, after all."

Saleh glanced back, and disagrees. "Oh... now that I have a good idea what Captain Pharah was fussing about yesterday, I dare say the rest of his day is booked."

Tariq has a laugh at that and agrees, "If I had any confidence that I could tail them without the captain discovering me and killing me... although it might be worth it to see her more feminine side."

I'm not sure what to make of that statement, because it doesn't make much sense to me. Fareeha is who she is, and as far as I can tell, her manner while "on the job" is pretty much exactly how she interacts outside of it. Fiercely protective, loyal, determined, confident yet playful.

But I hold my tongue. No sense snapping at someone who probably meant no insult.

Not that would have had much time. The very next corner led to a pair of brass trimmed oak double doors, which lead to the corporate boardroom. Saleh and Tariq stay outside, closing the doors behind me. After short introductions with about twelve names that I only remembered three of at most, CEO Hansel Heimerschleiff got right to business.

I had been initially been taken aback by a German in charge of a corporation based out of Cairo, and that more than half of them were quite clearly European, until I reminded myself of the "International" designation of the company. Helix Security had probably moved several times over the course of its existence, and is probably here only as long as the tax breaks are good.

"Mr. Ngumi, I don't think there's much secrecy as to why you are here," Hansel says. "The god AI program under our watch, Anubis, has proven to be more adaptive than we had anticipated when we took over its safekeeping. As your grandfather was the only one who ever successfully destroyed such a program..."

I glare angrily at him for even thinking of invoking that calamity. "The remains of Cape Town are evidence of what it takes to destroy a god AI, and the fallout that comes of it," I say sternly. "Rest assured, if we did the same in Giza to Anubis, anywhere from Numbani to Baghdad would feel the impact in one way or another."

"Well... that is our second question," Madeline Lourdis, two chairs to the right interjects. "Are we certain that destroying a god AI would also... well... you know... it wouldn't matter if we launched it into the Sun or something?"

I stare her down next. "That is difficult to say. Presumably there is a range of a god AI's influence, though Gamab seemed capable of controlling any of its bound omnics anywhere in the world. Regardless, moving it out of that range would be exactly the same as outright destroying it, and destroying a god AI would lead to tremendous losses of omnic lives."

"Are we sure that's the case though?" Lin Houshou, the CFO if I remember correctly asks, "There are many gaps in our knowledge of the Cape Town battle."

"Despite what the legend of him would imply about my grandfather's battle prowess, Adhubu Ngumi didn't kill seventeen million omnics scattered in a range from Angola to Somalia in one night."

"Could that have been a result of the destruction of Gamab, and not an inevitable consequence of that?" Hansel offered.

"You're the ones with the god AI in house," I reply. "Not me. I'm a mechanical engineer by trade, just like my grandfather and father were. None of us were computer scientists. If you were hoping that my grandfather had done some research on these programs that he didn't share with the rest of the world, I can tell you that I am not aware of any. His priority was to destroy Gamab, and the preservation of any omnic lives were of no concern to him."

An older Egyptian man whose name I couldn't remember grumbled, "Should it be a concern of ours, for that matter?"

I don't even pretend to hide my disgust at that sentiment. I turn to the man with an aggressive, growling tone saying, "There are approximately seventy-seven million omnics within Anubis's influence. Seventy-seven million beings with memories, opinions, experiences, and yes, even self-awareness. What you are implying is nothing short of genocide."

"That didn't seem to be something that worried them," the man retorted.

I calm myself. Judging from his age, this was a man who likely experienced the omnic crisis, seeing their methodical eradication of entire populations first and second hand. It would no doubt be very hard for him to stir sympathy for omnics after that. That doesn't make his perspective any more right, but getting angry and shouting him down would do nothing but compel him to dig in his heels and resist further.

"I would hope we would be better than that," I finally reply as calmly as I can muster. "While it may be the simplest solution, I cannot agree it would be the best."

Hansel interjects by saying, "I apologize for Mr. Ebeid's outburst, Mr. Ngumi, and I fear that he did not present his concern properly. The problem is that we may not have the choice, and that day of reckoning may come far sooner than any of us would like."

I realize I can't leave this meeting without giving them some hope, however faint. "What I can offer you on that score is that a private group of omnic and human interests in Numbani have been working on this very problem in what free time they have. I'm not entirely certain how far along they are, or if they even have any theories, but I suspect they would be willing to share what they have learned with you."

In truth, I doubt this very much. This nameless group has some extremely socialist slants, and helped my father develop the Eye specifically to combat corporate interests. They would be far more willing to trust someone like Sombra than a faceless corporation. But I can try to lean on them by expressing the urgency that Helix Security has in the face of this growing problem.

"Anything you can dig up will help us a great deal," Hansel acknowledged, though his tone of voice suggested the same amount of hope I had for the offer. "Unless there is anything else that anyone has to ask, I think we can excuse Mr. Ngumi from this meeting. Anyone opposed?"

Silence was all the answer I need. I stand up without prompting, offer swift partings, and allow Ms. Lourdis to show me out. I don't really acknowledge Saleh or Tariq, as I'm already digging for my phone the instant I cross the threshold into the hall.

I'm done.

Already? I've never known Helix executives to settle anything quickly.

Let's just say we didn't have much to offer each other. If not for you, I would not consider this trip to have been worth my time.

Rest assured I will certainly make sure your visit to Cairo is worth it. I'll meet you at the main roundabout in twenty minutes.

At that moment, I look up from my phone, and don't see my escorts in front of me. A breath later, and I discover that they were looking over my shoulders, one to each side. Saleh unapologetically says, "Well, I had started to ask you where we should take you, then when we saw you engrossed in your phone, we figured it would probably be easier just to look in. We were right. Come this way."

We head back in the direction of the green room, but instead of a right that would take me to the parking garage, we take a left towards the east side of the building. My two escorts "graciously" decide to wait with me for Fareeha's arrival, something that I quickly inform her of once we're in the main lobby looking out at the roundabout in question.

They're good people, no matter how much they are no doubt trying to get embarrassing stories of me. Let them linger. They so rarely see me out of uniform that they're no doubt eager to see me.

And I'm not?

I would hope that much was assumed.

Approximately ten minutes later, at 1:13pm, Fareeha Amari arrived, and no doubt left more than three men at the entrance breathless.