By ordinary logic, if she wanted a pilot, she just had to find one.
Simple.
Ch'en felt that person was herself. It was an extraordinarily powerful confidence.
But with so many people lining up to admire Father's majestic body, she really could not bring herself to climb into the cockpit in full view of everyone. She could only wait slowly, until the sun had completely set and night arrived.
Even that quack had gone home.
Ch'en breathed a sigh of relief and looked around furtively like a thief.
There was no one on the mountain behind the shrine.
Safe.
She crouched slightly, her dragon tail pressing down heavily. Her body shot forward like an arrow loosed from its bow, turning into a fleeting shadow.
Ch'en ran across the nearly vertical metal surface!
Besides her exceptional physical ability and balance, one had to marvel at the power of shame. It really could drive a person to such lengths.
[Verification passed--] [Pilot, please take your position--]
The cold voice startled her. It was merely a prompt from the control system. Ch'en sighed in relief and, urged on by the operating system, placed both hands on the control levers. Before operating it, she recalled that this voice did not sound much like Bronya's.
Was there someone else...?
It seemed Schicksal had a weapons research department far beyond anything she could comprehend.
She cast the thought aside and focused on operating Father.
"Move!"
[Repair level: 90%]
The cold prompt left Ch'en at a loss.
"Move! Why isn't Father moving?" Instinctively, she wanted to smack the control lever as though she were dealing with an old appliance at home, but that would be rather inappropriate.
"Repair level... Was Father broken?"
Ch'en muttered to herself, "Then why was it so light and