Heterodyne
It had been a week since Forge's highly experimental nanotech payload has been delivered into his body. A week of agony, of random medical crashes as his cells were corrected, the strain effects of the massive E-M overload purged. But today the Master of Magnetism was back on top of his game. He felt healthier than he had in weeks, stronger than he had in months, and had the appetite of a bull moose to go with it.
But before it was time to visit Forge in his bunker he needed to place a phone call. He picked up the phone and dialed a very long string of digits from memory. No-one answered and there was no message - of course - but he knew he'd reached the right number.
"Raven. The Maker needs you." he said into the phone. Then he rattled off a latitude and longitude of Forge's bunker - modulo maybe fifteen meters or so - and broke the connection.
She'd get the message and come running unless he vastly missed his guess.
But for now? Breakfast. And then, like those little people in the fantastic books, perhaps second breakfast.
But before it was time to visit Forge in his bunker he needed to place a phone call. He picked up the phone and dialed a very long string of digits from memory. No-one answered and there was no message - of course - but he knew he'd reached the right number.
"Raven. The Maker needs you." he said into the phone. Then he rattled off a latitude and longitude of Forge's bunker - modulo maybe fifteen meters or so - and broke the connection.
She'd get the message and come running unless he vastly missed his guess.
But for now? Breakfast. And then, like those little people in the fantastic books, perhaps second breakfast.