The blindfold was, unhelpfully, lead-lined. Or, not quite. From weight distribution (and the outline it made against her face), Ace could tell it was actually a pair of leaden plates inserted into a woven spidersilk cloth; she didn't need to get the blindfold off entirely to be able to see, she just had to adjust it enough that the plates became misaligned. Her hearing registered machinery - the thrum of a powerful engine pushed to its limit, the creaking of gears, a distinctive vibration as they traveled. There were a number of smells. Minerva had a fine scent like lilacs, but which had a manufactured air. Arachne was sweaty with exertion. Silvia had found herself some perfume. There was machine oil, and a sharp smell of explosives, and a sort of full-bodied scent which was reminiscent of the fuel for Kanina's starship drive. And she could sense motion; they were moving, slower than a car, possibly even slower than a horse, through a very difficult medium, a little like a submarine made to travel through molasses.<br/><br/>"There was a battle," Minerva explained, "it's troublesome to fight off both Nephilim and a correctional contingent while holding onto something."<br/><br/>"You didn't really need to try so hard. She can take a bruising," Arachne said; her voice came from only very slightly above Silvia's. Perhaps fortunately for Ace (but less so for her intelligence-gathering efforts), gloating seemed to be a lower priority than affection for their lost lamb... spider.<br/><br/>Minerva continued as though she hadn't heard, "I'm glad you weren't injured. Ordinarily you'd be brought to a secure holding facility while we decide what to do with you, but present circumstances have denied us that luxury."<br/><br/>"Zohar destroyed them," Silvia supplied helpfully. Ace could tell from sound she was having a hard time breathing after that shock (or possibly Arachne's crushing embrace), but she didn't sound like she planned to complain. "would you believe he's a double-edged sword?"<br/><br/>"They were largely empty or compromised anyway," Minerva said dismissively. "But yes, the Tyrant Sun seems intent on having us fight out our differences rather than lock each other away. So, what we're going to do is rendezvous with a supplier who can get us the equipment we need to take some blood, hair and skin samples from you, to see if we can't use your exceptional genome for the betterment of humanity." There was a smile in her voice, "I hope it's not premature to say that an extreme resistance to radiation alone would be a coup in off-world adaptation. We'll ship those off securely. Then, in lieu of a good way to keep you captive long-term without my personal and constant attention, I suppose we'll leave you somewhere civilized where you can get back to doing what it is you do. You are one of Earth's greatest defenders, after all, and you were..." she hesitated for the first time, looking for a word, "good to our wayward child. It's only politics - the laws of a collection of dying states clinging to relevance - that causes us to be enemies."<br/><br/>"Oh look, you've embarrassed Silvie. Hmm, could always stick miss Hero in a box and sink it in the sea," Arachne offered, "I bet that would keep her busy for longer."<br/><br/>"It wouldn't, dear," Silvia said, and Ace could hear her fidgeting in Arachne's arms while the other spider stroked her hair, "you<em>might</em>make her angry, though..."<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Mechanics</div><div class="spoiler_body">Doom pool results of 16, 18 and 20, respectively, so Ace is emotionally clear-headed and has her laser eye-beams back, but not her flight.</div></div>