She’d finished the Chivalridex to the best of her ability, although Mistral had trouble knowing when to leave well enough alone. She blamed that on the Asimov part of her, the girl who’d been cut off from her birthright too soon and had a thousand years or lost time to make up for… and on the Anabel part, the crippled girl with a point to prove. All that added up to an obsessive sense of perfectionism that could scarcely be quelled by telling herself, it works, now stop ******** with it.

Computer cuff fitted nearly onto her forearm, Mistral sat took a seat at her wonder’s piece of code’s console and flexed her fingers over the haptic keyboard. Her fingers were cold - even at the height of Mercurian summer, it was chilly on the bottom floor of her labyrinth - some kind of ancient compressor forced cold air through the labs, cooling machinery and leaving it to Mistral to keep bundled up.

She’d done this once before, and it had ended badly, but - she was older now. Smarter. She knew what she was doing. She’d already finished everything she needed to distribute - there’d be no unattended visitors to her wonder, no risk. Just safe territory and gifts! Like Christmas had come early. Mistral patted the side of her tunic, making sure that her precious cargo was in place - it was. The faint click of metal assured her that all of the ring upgrades were exactly where they should be, ready to be handed out to those in need.

All their deaths were not in vain.

“Code?” asked Mistral.

The computer sprang to life at once, the dark display in front of her lighting up, taking on a soft blue tone that pulsed as her wonder’s code piece spoke: “Yes, Squire Anabel? How may I be of service?”

Mistral smiled to herself. She’d done this once before, and that made her confident that she could do it again. It was the day after Thanksgiving on earth - as good a day as any to call people away to Olympus. She was less likely to pull people away from important duties this way, and besides, it was late afternoon. Most of the sales were already over. She was being considerate! People should practically be thanking her!

Not that she was doing this for anyone’s gratitude. Successfully inventing a new magical process was its own reward!

She reached down, slipping a hand around Mendel’s collar. “I need to call a meeting at Olympus,” she said. “Every knight you can reach. I have a project to distribute, and they’ll want to be there.”

Or maybe they wouldn’t. She’d understand if people were reluctant to take advantage of her newest inventions given when had happened last time she’d called a meeting. At least they couldn’t all rally together and ban her from doing so.

“Affirmative,” said the Code. “You may depart immediately.”

Mistral tightened her grip on her dog’s collar. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s go.”