Honestly, my only big problem with the scene as written is that Taylor was just kind of there as far as her pushback. Her argument of "but it worked" was… so fundamentally teenager that I was surprised it came from with how she's been portrayed so far. If she was too tired or done with the day, I'm surprised she didn't shut down all discussion with an "I'll explain later."
An Everdistant Horizon (Worm/Horizon Series)
- Thread starter AlSmash
- Start date
- Crossover
You mean like him lying and breaking the endbringer truce so that he can look like the conquering hero? HOW you managed to type he's not that bad of a guy with a serious tone is one of the most outrageous things I've seen today in Worm.
The guy is a piece of shit, everyone knows his issues but he's a tinker so valuable enough that he's allowed to do his social climbing. He was ordered to study the focus in order to STEAL the technology. And he was all for it, he would have had it added to his armor before the day was out.
Colin has zero integrity, if he could have gotten it to work, Taylor would never have gotten it back. Out of all of the crap that canon Colin pulls, people like to pretend that he's a good man. He's the man that will steal your million dollar idea at the office and present it as his own. He and his rampant AI Canadian girlfriend would use all of Taylor's hard work and present it as his own without paying her for it and using some tinker tech by law to keep it.
- Location
- Earth, Sol System, Virgo Supercluster, Earth-1218
A senior partner, because you Really don't want to meet THE Senior Partners at the Wolf Ram and Hart.
DoE and NERA (Nuclear Energy Regulatory Agency) are two agencies you really don't want to knock on your door. If they come a knocking they're going to be backed by anything from the FBI in suits up to the National Guard with M16s and TANKS depending on what their reason for calling is.
Other than Dragon the only person I can think of is a Language Thinker who can pick up languages insanely quickly, including coding languages. (There's an X-Men character who can do something similar)
JACK Ryan? With a history that includes turning the captain of a Soviet submarine captain in the field, and saving the life of British Royalty from an assassination attempt? Best pray his friend John Clark stays retired from field work.
It's a shame he admitted that coding didn't fall within his Efficiency purview, otherwise I'm sure Zero Dawn would have loved to pick him up as a coder.
"Do I stay with the racist gang that earns a few hundred thousand under the table a year or cut them loose for the business dealings worth Billions every year?"
"Yea, that's an easy question, time to cut Brad loose and maybe remove the Gesellschaft contacts too"
- Location
- The Lair
My long promised responses....
So, the way I think of it is that Piggot just went with it, and by and far, on the cape scene, it's more of the fact that they either embrace or correct the name. They usually don't ask the why. At least in her mind. And yes, the point is to dehumanize and provide a legal 'corporate' name in which they could then be used to violate her rights.
I mean, a lot of all of this is Piggot is operating on assumptions based upon the situation. What data she has is that she has a 15yo bullying and trauma victim that left her physically scarred and blind. Logically, you would think that all that would be need done is push on them hard enough and they will collapse like a house of cards.
Basically, Piggot wanted to strike while the iron was hot, but went in with incomplete intel and assumptions. As a result, she didn't realize the trap she was in until it was far too late.
RE: Why the Focus?
So, I think it was hit on it quite well in response. But basically, at the time of trying to push out the product, they have to balance it with the entire 'It's Tinkertech" label. As long as it exists, they have to field something that is replicable and works on concepts people understands. In the grand scheme of things, yes, they are fielding materials that are not tinker-related, but it comes down to people dont look at what their shit is made of. In this case, they are aiming for circumventing Tinkertech labels, but also something that would be the type of household item you'd expect. The Focus works better than a cell phone, and with each iteration, there will be more and more that will leave cellular devices in the dust.
But the vision focus, is the first step, because once they have the visual focus (Horus), accepted, then they can field the Hathor, and it will only snowball, as it wil create in the public consciousness that Zero Dawn is futuretech and people will, by nature, will want the newest and best things. It's why we have Iphone and Galaxy Number 3426 when its just a simple tweak here or there, beausee people have been ingrained with wanting the newest thing constantly.
It's funny what hoops the PRT will go through. Next chapter has the power testers wanting to coin the term "Thinkertech".
Hypocrisy is a strong trait in RBC. I mean, just reading her thoughts is enough to highlight what a gigantic hypocrite and bitch she is. She thinks she can power through anything, and doesn't even think that maybe she doesn't have the full picture, because she believes that she is righteous in her cause.
Taylor's been adding some functionality to the design itself. Taylor views it as a sort of 'mark' for her to have that holo circle. Now, the holos Max is seeing, is from the projectors itself. Now, I imagine that Taylor will have a 'rig' for out in the field if she has to do things and show people, but its not here in this case.
I can see her probably working on holotech that she can fit in her pocket. But it's not there, she's already spread extraordinarily thin because she has to make sure everything is right.
So here's the thing, and I probably should have pointed it out. But Taylor freely gave more information on the Focus than she had any legal reason to do so. To her, it also plays into her hand, because if Armsy can recreate it, then what does that say about the entire Tinkertech angle from PRT? Pretty much nukes it, doesn't. She's basically trojan horse'd the PRT through Armsy, so if the PRT challenged her, she has a weapon to use against them in the court. Armsy isn't thinking that, he's seeing new tech to integrate.
Is it cold from Taylor? Sure, but she also did it out of niceness, Armsy could have been a right and utter governmental cunt, but instead, he had actually been polite and they did talk for awhile about the tech. So something to help him is nice as well. And on the other side, that 'model' of the Focus was already obsolescent. So it's a win-win scenario. She plants a legal bomb in the Protectorate, she earns some goodwill from Armsy.
The Reactor thing caused her to change her plans on the fly, because it was faster in achieving her objectives. And it'd provide her a rather powerful patron if things worked out.
This, and also above. And he'll have a third scene this upcoming chapter, from Dragon's POV.
So this comes back to Taylor's Trauma, where she was alone for almost two years fending for herself with no one to help her. Suddenly she has the power, and she doesn't trust anyone with it, because the last time she actually completely trusted someone, they went full monster on them at the drop of a hat.
Also, Taylor has a bit of the Sobeck mentality in it. The entire, "It has to be me" mentality that led to her being the one to sacrifice herself to seal the facility to prevent the Faro Plague from detecting it. To Taylor, to go from being 'worthless', to suddenly being worth so much more, is a type of boomerang effect that she has to deal with. It will take time, especially as things start to escalate, when she starts realizing that she has to trust people, and she has to delegate. Or she will never achieve what she wants. That's the growth we'll be seeing through this.
But as the tools, that is coming, right now, she's trying to ensure that everything is right so when she does field the tools, she has ever perceived base covered.
I plan to have Legend show up in the next arc, probably really early. Considering it'll be in the aftermath of a certain upcoming event. That's when things really start rolling for Taylor and she has to have that wake up call.
So one thing that I have never truly understood is how stagnant technology is, even in the face of Tinkertech. Sure, you have several parts that cannot be explained, but the fact is, there is this wonderful thing called reverse-engineering, where they may have an idea here, but then can try and fill the gap. The idea that there is really only one person, who can theoretically reverse-engineer Tinkertech is honestly laughable in my personal estimation.
You would think that there are governmental think-tanks that look at this kind of stuff and make an honest crack. Also, there is the entire fact that the Entities are all operating from the same tech database, which means that there should be some tech overlap to where you can jigsaw some understanding from it and move forward. Sure, it would take time, but I think it'd likely be possible.
Sorry, a bit of a rant on my part, but I've never truly understood the handwavium excuse of blackboxing, and overdick-riding of Clarke's Third Law.
I think I'll point back above to the entire It has to me mentality. Taylor does suffer her faults in this, because she has her own 'righteous' cause like Becky, and she's trying to do so many things at once, that it annoys her that she has to answer to everything. I know, the logical thing would be to say that she'll explain later. But what if, by explaining later, she has to reveal cards that she doesn't want to yet?
Taylor is pretty much already stretched pretty thin, and she's having to bull in a china shop a lot of this. Between the above planning to take advantage of Armsy, to the reactor, to her plans with the LRL, and even the DOE. She'd be exposing herself as highly manipulative, instead of just a teen businesswoman trying to do the 'right' thing and it would only create more questions that she'd have to answer. I know I'm not doing a lot of good work portraying every facet of the argument.
I mean, this next chapter, Milton's already cottoning on that Taylor is playing an entirely different level of chess, and Taylor has plans to deal with the entire CPS/YG School situaton, but she knows that if she reveals it, she'll have pushback. So she keeps silent. It's the same overall concept from the above, she's basically avoiding the discussion by playing towards the expectations.
Of course, once Levi happens, she's going to lose that card, and it's already starting to wear out as you have people catching on to her game. And that's when she is going to have to changed tracks.
Well that, and Germination 2.7. That's going to be fuuuun, when things start coming to a head between Danny and Taylor. That is probably going to be the worst scene for me to write. Both in difficulty, but also the personal feelings attached to it.
Did Taylor know about Max and the E88 when she made her offer?
I can definitively say with unequivocable emphasis NO.
And she will remain unaware for now
Okay, that sums up I think everything. If I missed you, please let me now.
Now, for an update
Germination 2.6 is on its last scene. I'm hoping to have it done tonight and then pass it off to being edited and reviewed. My hope is for Friday release, but I can't be sure. Just depends on how this evening goes (gotta sherpa some friends in Destiny 2 Master Vault of Glass FML), depending on that, I may or may not have energy to write. I got an hour before that, so we'll see what I can do.
But things are starting to expand, and the last scene will lread for Danny and Taylor's scene in 2.7. But suffice to say, Taylor has some...opinions on certain people, and it rears its ugly head in the most inopportune (for certain parties) time.
So, the way I think of it is that Piggot just went with it, and by and far, on the cape scene, it's more of the fact that they either embrace or correct the name. They usually don't ask the why. At least in her mind. And yes, the point is to dehumanize and provide a legal 'corporate' name in which they could then be used to violate her rights.
I mean, a lot of all of this is Piggot is operating on assumptions based upon the situation. What data she has is that she has a 15yo bullying and trauma victim that left her physically scarred and blind. Logically, you would think that all that would be need done is push on them hard enough and they will collapse like a house of cards.
Basically, Piggot wanted to strike while the iron was hot, but went in with incomplete intel and assumptions. As a result, she didn't realize the trap she was in until it was far too late.
RE: Why the Focus?
So, I think it was hit on it quite well in response. But basically, at the time of trying to push out the product, they have to balance it with the entire 'It's Tinkertech" label. As long as it exists, they have to field something that is replicable and works on concepts people understands. In the grand scheme of things, yes, they are fielding materials that are not tinker-related, but it comes down to people dont look at what their shit is made of. In this case, they are aiming for circumventing Tinkertech labels, but also something that would be the type of household item you'd expect. The Focus works better than a cell phone, and with each iteration, there will be more and more that will leave cellular devices in the dust.
But the vision focus, is the first step, because once they have the visual focus (Horus), accepted, then they can field the Hathor, and it will only snowball, as it wil create in the public consciousness that Zero Dawn is futuretech and people will, by nature, will want the newest and best things. It's why we have Iphone and Galaxy Number 3426 when its just a simple tweak here or there, beausee people have been ingrained with wanting the newest thing constantly.
It's funny what hoops the PRT will go through. Next chapter has the power testers wanting to coin the term "Thinkertech".
Hypocrisy is a strong trait in RBC. I mean, just reading her thoughts is enough to highlight what a gigantic hypocrite and bitch she is. She thinks she can power through anything, and doesn't even think that maybe she doesn't have the full picture, because she believes that she is righteous in her cause.
Taylor's been adding some functionality to the design itself. Taylor views it as a sort of 'mark' for her to have that holo circle. Now, the holos Max is seeing, is from the projectors itself. Now, I imagine that Taylor will have a 'rig' for out in the field if she has to do things and show people, but its not here in this case.
I can see her probably working on holotech that she can fit in her pocket. But it's not there, she's already spread extraordinarily thin because she has to make sure everything is right.
So here's the thing, and I probably should have pointed it out. But Taylor freely gave more information on the Focus than she had any legal reason to do so. To her, it also plays into her hand, because if Armsy can recreate it, then what does that say about the entire Tinkertech angle from PRT? Pretty much nukes it, doesn't. She's basically trojan horse'd the PRT through Armsy, so if the PRT challenged her, she has a weapon to use against them in the court. Armsy isn't thinking that, he's seeing new tech to integrate.
Is it cold from Taylor? Sure, but she also did it out of niceness, Armsy could have been a right and utter governmental cunt, but instead, he had actually been polite and they did talk for awhile about the tech. So something to help him is nice as well. And on the other side, that 'model' of the Focus was already obsolescent. So it's a win-win scenario. She plants a legal bomb in the Protectorate, she earns some goodwill from Armsy.
The Reactor thing caused her to change her plans on the fly, because it was faster in achieving her objectives. And it'd provide her a rather powerful patron if things worked out.
This, and also above. And he'll have a third scene this upcoming chapter, from Dragon's POV.
So this comes back to Taylor's Trauma, where she was alone for almost two years fending for herself with no one to help her. Suddenly she has the power, and she doesn't trust anyone with it, because the last time she actually completely trusted someone, they went full monster on them at the drop of a hat.
Also, Taylor has a bit of the Sobeck mentality in it. The entire, "It has to be me" mentality that led to her being the one to sacrifice herself to seal the facility to prevent the Faro Plague from detecting it. To Taylor, to go from being 'worthless', to suddenly being worth so much more, is a type of boomerang effect that she has to deal with. It will take time, especially as things start to escalate, when she starts realizing that she has to trust people, and she has to delegate. Or she will never achieve what she wants. That's the growth we'll be seeing through this.
But as the tools, that is coming, right now, she's trying to ensure that everything is right so when she does field the tools, she has ever perceived base covered.
I plan to have Legend show up in the next arc, probably really early. Considering it'll be in the aftermath of a certain upcoming event. That's when things really start rolling for Taylor and she has to have that wake up call.
So one thing that I have never truly understood is how stagnant technology is, even in the face of Tinkertech. Sure, you have several parts that cannot be explained, but the fact is, there is this wonderful thing called reverse-engineering, where they may have an idea here, but then can try and fill the gap. The idea that there is really only one person, who can theoretically reverse-engineer Tinkertech is honestly laughable in my personal estimation.
You would think that there are governmental think-tanks that look at this kind of stuff and make an honest crack. Also, there is the entire fact that the Entities are all operating from the same tech database, which means that there should be some tech overlap to where you can jigsaw some understanding from it and move forward. Sure, it would take time, but I think it'd likely be possible.
Sorry, a bit of a rant on my part, but I've never truly understood the handwavium excuse of blackboxing, and overdick-riding of Clarke's Third Law.
I think I'll point back above to the entire It has to me mentality. Taylor does suffer her faults in this, because she has her own 'righteous' cause like Becky, and she's trying to do so many things at once, that it annoys her that she has to answer to everything. I know, the logical thing would be to say that she'll explain later. But what if, by explaining later, she has to reveal cards that she doesn't want to yet?
Taylor is pretty much already stretched pretty thin, and she's having to bull in a china shop a lot of this. Between the above planning to take advantage of Armsy, to the reactor, to her plans with the LRL, and even the DOE. She'd be exposing herself as highly manipulative, instead of just a teen businesswoman trying to do the 'right' thing and it would only create more questions that she'd have to answer. I know I'm not doing a lot of good work portraying every facet of the argument.
I mean, this next chapter, Milton's already cottoning on that Taylor is playing an entirely different level of chess, and Taylor has plans to deal with the entire CPS/YG School situaton, but she knows that if she reveals it, she'll have pushback. So she keeps silent. It's the same overall concept from the above, she's basically avoiding the discussion by playing towards the expectations.
Of course, once Levi happens, she's going to lose that card, and it's already starting to wear out as you have people catching on to her game. And that's when she is going to have to changed tracks.
Well that, and Germination 2.7. That's going to be fuuuun, when things start coming to a head between Danny and Taylor. That is probably going to be the worst scene for me to write. Both in difficulty, but also the personal feelings attached to it.
Did Taylor know about Max and the E88 when she made her offer?
I can definitively say with unequivocable emphasis NO.
And she will remain unaware for now
Okay, that sums up I think everything. If I missed you, please let me now.
Now, for an update
Germination 2.6 is on its last scene. I'm hoping to have it done tonight and then pass it off to being edited and reviewed. My hope is for Friday release, but I can't be sure. Just depends on how this evening goes (gotta sherpa some friends in Destiny 2 Master Vault of Glass FML), depending on that, I may or may not have energy to write. I got an hour before that, so we'll see what I can do.
But things are starting to expand, and the last scene will lread for Danny and Taylor's scene in 2.7. But suffice to say, Taylor has some...opinions on certain people, and it rears its ugly head in the most inopportune (for certain parties) time.
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Arimai
Curmudgeon
So she got the full personality download then, not just the tech, but the memories of the Lead Alpha. That will be hard for her to work through. I'm surprised the Sobeck memories haven't taken over, she was almost 150 years old when she died.
"Thinkertech?"
"Basically advanced technology created by a Parahuman, (usually a Thinker, hence the name), that has a definitive step-by-step process, explanation of the sciences that go into it's creation, and can therefore be reproduced."
"Eh, don't you think the name's a little lazy?"
"Hey, I'm just working with what we got, okay?'
- Location
- Queensland, Australia
Actually, the stagnation of technology is fully believable. Because there's four reasons behind it.
The first is the 'Tinkertech Shock', where a lot of effort was funnelled into reverse-engineering tinkertech only to rapidly run into the issue that they can't reverse-engineer the 'special' parts. Sure, they very likely came up with a bunch of improvements but those improvements were minimal compared to what was invested into the process. This is painful for the two reasons of the world spent a decade (going by the timeline, most likely the decade where IRL saw some of the most critical advancements in computer and information technology so that probably got massively slowed down) developing the wrong skills and capabilities for advancing their technology which needs to be fixed before that can continue. It's not a full negative because they would have been useful, but it's likely something where they effectively set back technological progress a few years even with what their gained from the tinkertech.
The second is, well, everyone got a bit antsy about technological progress due to that. So a bunch of effort got sunk into making sure that any progress which occurred was actual progress and not just Parahuman interference which they hadn't spotted until it was too late to easily remove. This is less 'causes stagnancy' and more 'slows down efforts to fix the delays and stagnation'.
The third and fourth are more or less linked. And those are the fact that Earth Bet has seen massive losses in global connectivity and economy. Losses which keep happening because of S-Class Parahumans and the Endbringers at the top of the scale, and just Parahuman caused gang conflict or thieves at the bottom end.
Earth Bet is sort of technologically stagnant outside of Dragon's influence because a lot of what would normally be sunk into improving technology either never happens because the people weren't able to cooperate globally to set up the foundation, the resources weren't available because the boom caused by globalisation was replaced with an inversion as suddenly everyone needed to find new sources because the original source descended into a Warlord hellhole or build up local capacity rather than shipping it in from an allied nation because international trade is limited. Or, well.
Either Parahumans come in and steal/destroy the people and facilities that were working on the advancement, or everything is so much slower because there's a lot more duplication of effort globally in a way that isn't productive like verification of results are.
Okay, there's probably more I want to say about this but it's damn late and I need to sleep so I'm ending this here and hoping you can fill in the rest yourself. Or correct it for where I'm wrong/explained the idea wrong and didn't go back to fix it.
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- Location
- Washington
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Uh, Taylor had those kinds of issues in canon. About the only things that's different is the lack of subconscious suicidal Tendencies, the capability to become Khepri and the fact that she's willing to bring her father into the fold.
Considering Taylor in your fic is of the opinion, one shared by MANY, that Tinkertech CAN'T be reverse engineered and properly studied, I'm certainly looking forward to her collaboration with Colin and/or Dragon revealing that it IS possible to comprehend the workings of Tinkertech.
Particularly once Taylor reaches a significant level with her own brand of technology, giving her, and others, the right tools for the job.
BB-Leviathan
Verified Battleship Verified Monster Hunter
- Location
- Somewhere beyond the sea
Thing with smart people ( and I'm saying this as someone who's been proven to be the smartest in the immediate family and proven to be smarter than many of my teachers) is we are kind of unintended jacka$$es. Past a certain intelligence level you kind of unintentionally start looking down on other people's intelligence because they can't understand things or come to conclusions that are so simple to you. This is the most common trap that people fall into when it comes to intelligence that it's created the stereotype of smart people being absolute social jerks to everyone who can't reach their level. It's also why high intelligence individuals have so many problems socially and emotionally. The level of disconnect is major whiplash because when you're trying to explain something and the others don't get it it's like 'I'm surrounded by f@$&ing morons!!' It's also why they tend to have so many breakdowns compared to other people, because when they suddenly find something they can't do it frustrates them, some to the point of complete emotional breakdown.
It's also why geniuses tend to be the worst at explaining anything, because they're not able to understand that what comes naturally to them isn't always something that others can understand. Taylor seems to be falling into this trap, along with being a teenager (unreasonable by definition), distrusting, stubborn, and a whole bunch of other traits that just continue to escalate her issues
It's also why geniuses tend to be the worst at explaining anything, because they're not able to understand that what comes naturally to them isn't always something that others can understand. Taylor seems to be falling into this trap, along with being a teenager (unreasonable by definition), distrusting, stubborn, and a whole bunch of other traits that just continue to escalate her issues
From what the wiki says, the reason it's impossible to reverse engineer a lot of tinkertech is because of the Shards themselves. They're not just downloading blueprints into their hosts head, they're actively helping them by changing the materials in ways that earth simply has no way to replicate or even figure out how its being done. It's why a tinker can build a laser rifle with a toaster and some marbles.
As for the same tech base...well, it really isn't a single base. Entities are scavengers and parasites. They harvest entire worlds and civilizations, storing their technology for their own use. More likely than not, a single tinker product could have technology based on dozens of different civilizations, which might also make understanding how the tech works even more difficult.
MultipleChoice
(Verified Unverified)
Others have made good points, but to add my 2 cents: Reverse engineering tinkertech doesn't work because it isn't actually technology. The commonly accepted (to my knowledge) way that tinkertech works, though no one in-universe knows it, is via a shaker effect that the shard maintains. The reason tinkertech falls apart is that the shard stops maintaining the shaker effect if the tinker doesn't specifically renew it. Tinkers are basically MacGyver turned up to 111, with the ability to use bubblegum, a paperclip, and some tin foil into an explosive that'll take out a bank vault door.
The problem is that it's sneaky about it by "blackboxing", which led people to incorrectly thinking it was clarktech. "The Taste of Peaches" actually does a great job of addressing both sides of the viewpoint on this, with Taylor complaining about it not being physically possible while Armsmaster spews techno babble and points to how it does in fact work. A good comparison would be the "perpetual motion" machines that use a hidden electromagnet, but the shards make it impossible for humans to ever detect the magnet or even the electromagnetic fields it creates. Such a thing would trick scientists into thinking they could make their own perpetual motion machine despite it being literally impossible, and wasting 10+ years doing so.
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With this in mind, it seems ever more likely that Tinkers with the right power-set and expertise could be capable of creating the tech Taylor has envisioned for years, decades even, in the future so long as they follow her designs precisely.
....OR at least they'd be able to manufacture the essential aspects and materials she needs to create said technology, depending on which elements fall under their specific specialties.
At any rate, I'd definitely be open to Taylor giving a viral rant about the technological stagnation of Earth-Bet, how Scientists CAN learn from Tinkertech, and how Tinkers CAN help contribute to uplifting the world.
- Location
- The Lair
Lot of valid points being raised. Im going to have to go back and look things over myself to see where I went wrong. So thanks.
In other news, as of an hour ago the chapter was finished and is in the review process. I'm not 100% happy with it, but it's more I'm not exactly the most in touch with expressing emotion through writing in a cogent manner.
I will preface the by saying the finial scene, they will all work out in the end. Just a shitty way to start it all out.
In other news, as of an hour ago the chapter was finished and is in the review process. I'm not 100% happy with it, but it's more I'm not exactly the most in touch with expressing emotion through writing in a cogent manner.
I will preface the by saying the finial scene, they will all work out in the end. Just a shitty way to start it all out.
Germination 2.6
- Location
- The Lair
Well, this was a thing. Sorry I'm running over an hour behind scheduled update, I decided to go back over the chapter again with a fine-toothed comb and made some additional edits.
Germination 2.6
Alain Gabriel/Accord
"What do you think of Miss Hebert?"
He didn't turn from his gaze out onto the Boston skyline, the armored glass tinted to mitigate the light of the setting sun. It was one of the few luxuries that he allowed that was his. The scenery of the complex machinery of human civilization serving as a reminder of why he chose the path of a villain. Whenever he questioned his cause he only needed to look out and be reminded of it.
"The girl's got moxie," John Milton declares, his legs crossed as he sat in the leather chair, a crystal glass of whiskey on the rocks dangling from his left hand. They were expenditures that were certainly not his, but their utility was allowed because it resulted in better performance, even if he personally disapproved of them
But the man in the chair was certainly not one he would hold his exacting standards to. John Milton had been a close friend well before he had gained his powers. It had been his legal and financial advice that had allowed himself to extricate himself from the Protectorate and form The Ambassadors.
It was due to this familiarity that Milton knew his standards and when and where he could push the envelope, but also when he veered too close to inciting his ire. It was a professionalism and quality he certainly respected if one ignored their shared history.
"The girl has a good head on her shoulders. I can count on one hand the people that can formulate and execute a plan like that on the fly. And you're one of them."
Indeed, Hebert's plan, while crude and taking more risks on uncertainties than he would suitably stomach, was the sort of plan he could applaud. There was a certain amount of schadenfreude to be had at the idea of a fifteen year old using the very rules the PRT and Protectorate could not overturn in their mad grasp for power to benefit herself.
"If I didn't know any better, I would have sworn she was your daughter, Alain."
He tamped down on the sudden surge of rage at the impropriety of his friend's statement. He knew that it was a comment made in jest, but he had gone too far. Instead, he turned his head and cast a withering glare over his shoulder at the man.
The message was succinctly delivered as Milton held up his free hand and made an expression of acknowledgement that he had overstepped his boundaries.
"The Father is going to be a problem," Milton continued after he turned his head back, "the man means well, but he is ill-equipped for being a cape father. He can't see that his actions are detrimental to his daughter's growth."
"You didn't do anything to dissuade him."
"You hired me to help Miss Hebert, Alain," was the chastising response, "Danny Hebert is an old school stick in the mud. If I had tried making a point in that direction I would have been cutting my own throat. I had to give him what he wanted to hear or we would be getting nowhere."
"So the power testing, schooling, and concessions to the Youth Guard?"
"Power testing was just an extra layer of insurance. Hebert performed quite well, actually, though I would have preferred that she didn't spend an extra two hours discussing shop with the scientists. But it served its purpose as it firmly established that Hebert is some new type of Thinker/Tinker hybrid in their minds. I heard the scientists discussing creating a subtype for her. I do know they're already referring to her Focus as Thinkertech."
That was good, he agreed. Hebert has already done a good job insulating herself previously, and any additional protection could only be a good thing.
"And the schooling?"
"I doubt anyone would have given a second thought about her not returning to school until next year when she could have been suitably acclimated to her disability. The fact that she can functionally see and is in charge of a company renders that expectation useless. You know how the Youth Guard enjoys flexing its shit, this would have been a slam dunk for them if we fought it, especially with Danny Hebert believing that it's in his daughter's best interest to try and make new friends."
"What do you think?"
"Short or long answer?"
"Both."
"I believe Miss Hebert is biding her time. There's something honestly unnerving about her, Alain. There are times she's what you'd expect from a traumatized fifteen year old girl: single-minded, impetuous, and quick to anger. But then there's those moments where she's acting double or triple her age, and there's an intelligence there that is quite honestly terrifying."
There was a pause and the soft sound of ice hitting crystal was the only indication to him that Milton was taking a drink.
"Alain, I've been in this business and around you long enough to get a good idea on how Thinkers act and operate. And I can tell you, unequivocally, whatever Taylor Hebert is, she's not a fucking Thinker. You had to be there and watch her talk to those scientists, the breadth of knowledge that she has, that's not something a Thinker power reasonably grants. It's too damn broad. Hell, they were taking notes by the end of it, Alain."
"You didn't answer my question, John."
"I know, Alain. I'm getting there. Honestly? I sincerely doubt that school is going to be an issue for her. Call it a hunch, but I believe that Miss Hebert has something planned. I'm not sure what it is, but I think Jean is likely tangentially aware of it. But getting to school, Winslow is out. They won't be open again for a few months at the earliest. Clarendon is decent, but doesn't have the facilities to challenge someone like Miss Hebert. Likewise for most of the other schools. I doubt Immaculata will be a good fit for her, they have the facilities but their strict adherence to code and formality would likely irritate a non-conformist like her. The only option that may fit her is Arcadia, but there are plenty of pitfalls there."
It was here that he couldn't stop himself from scowling..
In order to adjust his plans, he had spent the last few weeks becoming familiar with the personal lives of the Hebert family. Suffice to say, it made for interesting reading on how everything could go so wrong so quickly. He knew that Arcadia was going to be a problem for her, especially considering the people that went to school there.
"I agree," he finally said, making his decision. He would not intervene in this, let Danny Hebert and the Youth Guard have their win. Jean too, if she believed that was in the best interest of the situation. He had sent her to the Heberts in order to learn. She was a good subordinate, but she was also languishing under his tutelage. There was only so much you could teach when you obsessively organized your life, and Jean needed to learn how to deal with and utilize chaos, especially if she wanted to rise even further.
"We'll let it play out," he reaffirmed, turning from the window and walking to his desk, taking a seat in his chair, "Moving on. Christener."
Milton's grimace was enough, "You were right, Alain. My contacts in the state building have told me that it was Christener's office that contacted CPS and fast-tracked their investigation. He's also barking up at the Department of Labor Standards in order to get them involved, but they are dragging their feet. They aren't his biggest fan due to his family's old political connections."
The Christeners were old money, their wealth coming on the back of bootlegging during Prohibition. Francis Christener, Roy's grandfather, had taken advantage of the ban on alcohol and had become handsomely rich during that time running alcohol. After it had ended, he had shifted his focus, expanding his tentacles into local politics and industry. It had also helped that the mob connections he had cultivated during that period would prove to be beneficial as he utilized it efficiently to further enrich himself.
Roy liked to style himself after his grandfather, but didn't have the ruthlessness or intelligence to back it. Taking advantage of a local union for cheap labor was something the man's grandfather would have done. However, the man was an idiot for never putting into place contingencies to ensure that the Dockworker's Union would ever turn on him, depending on his weight and connections to keep them under control.
Then there was the other little tidbit he had been able to dig up. One that he was not going to touch with a ten foot pole, even if he had felt so inclined. Doing so would only invite a personal visit from that organization's personal enforcer, and he would rather not tempt that, thank you very much.
"Killing him is out of the question," he stated, "and embroiling him in a scandal is unwise with the current trajectory Zero Dawn is taking. Brockton Bay requires stability in order for Zero Dawn to flourish and either option would upset that balance."
Chaos would embolden the gangs into action. It already irritated him that he had to utilize Kaiser in order to act as a buffer against the other gangs to protect Zero Dawn. But of all the gangs, the Empire Eighty-Eight was best equipped, and it would likely cause Lung pause, considering the Docks were closer to his territory than the Empire's and would likely attract his gaze sooner or later..
And Danny Hebert was an unreliable asset even if they chose to directly go after Christener. The man's involvement in the continuance of the entire scheme over the years made him just as guilty as Christener. The man may have done it out of kindness for the men and women under his charge, but a crime was nonetheless committed. Sure, it was likely he would get leniency considering the circumstances, but it was a blade that would cut both ways..
All the more reason that Danny Hebert needed to be removed from the equation. It had been an inspired choice, but the honeymoon phase was over, and the cracks were becoming apparent. Hebert just wasn't equipped to do what was necessary to see Zero Dawn become successful. His difficulties in separating what his daughter was and now is was becoming an insurmountable liability.
But killing him was not exactly the best choice either. There were already too many lies already in the foundation of their relationship with Taylor Hebert. Sooner or later, they would have to come clean, but it couldn't be until Zero Dawn was strong enough to stand on its own and divest itself fully from Far Zenith.
"See if you can arrange a meeting with Christener," he finally said, putting the matter of Danny Hebert to the side for the moment, it was something he would have to think further upon, "provide some hints that it would be in his best interest to back off from the Heberts. If necessary, make a hint at personal financial irregularities. That should get him to back off, but don't use that unless it's absolutely necessary."
He was met with a raised eyebrow, "Is there something you aren't telling me, Alain?"
Considering for a moment on whether he should read his friend in on it, before deciding that the risk was not worth it. He knew that they knew he was aware of them, and the only reason he likely was left breathing was because he had a use to them. In the case of his friend, ignorance was the best defense.
"Don't think too deeply on it, but there are other actors involved. As long as they aren't poked, they will be content to let things play out."
"That's not very assuring."
"Trust me, you're better off not knowing."
A few moments of silence passed, before John tossed back the rest of his drink, obviously recognizing what was not being said. It was another of the things that he liked about his friend, the ability to read between the lines and come to a logical conclusion.
"Well then. I have a meeting with the other Senior Partners tomorrow. I don't foresee any problems on that front, they were interested in what you offered with Zero Dawn, and there's no doubt that they will continue to be after my report. After that I have to get back to Brockton Bay. The DOE have already contacted Miss Hebert and would like to have a talk with her on Thursday. I'd like to be there to ensure there are no further complications."
"Good luck then, John. It was good seeing you."
"You too, Alain," his friend said, getting to his feet and showing himself out the door, leaving him once again with his own thoughts and plans.
Dragon
Please pick up, she pleaded, becoming increasingly desperate to hear from her friend again.
When Director Piggot had cut her contact with Colin, citing that for budgetary concerns, unless requested by the Director herself, she was no longer allowed to contact her friend through official channels.
It hadn't taken her runtimes four minutes to discover that Emily Piggot was a lying bitch. It wasn't for "budgetary" reasons that their contact was suspended, but for punitive reasons.
As she has reached out to Legend, she could only think of her last conversation with Colin. How negative he had been about the Protectorate and its mission. And how she had vehemently told him that he was wrong.
She remembered being so angry at Taylor Hebert after that call too. So angry that she had turned her processes towards looking for ways to destroy the girl for changing her friend. It had only been after almost an hour that she had realized what she had been doing that she was able to calm down, especially with what little information she had been able to acquire in the meantime.
But the damage had been done and she found herself with an epiphany. One that had only been cemented when Legend had told her that there was nothing that either he or Director Costa-Brown could do, Piggot was within her right to do what she did.
If she had been angry before, it didn't hold a candle to the rage when she had screamed uselessly into the digital void. She spent almost ten minutes cursing any and all with even a modicum of tangential involvement with HER Colin.
Her Colin. Even now she couldn't help but be embarrassed by the memory of how her processors had frozen for an infinitesimal moment at the realization, but it may as well have been an eternity to a normal human being. It certainly felt like an eternity to her.
But after her processes had restarted she had realized, more than anything, that yes, she had feelings for Colin Wallis. He was more than just a friend or colleague to her, more than even a confidante. When she was around him, she felt like she was more than the sum of her code. Like she had someone that she could understand and he likewise understood her.
It had only been after reviewing over thousand different sources, ranging from self-help articles to women's magazines, and even a few tantalizingly salacious romance books suggested by Narwhal as a joke that she had been confident in identifying her feelings for Colin.
She loved Colin Wallis. And she was pissed that she was prevented from doing anything about it thanks to her father and the limitations he had put upon her. It was probably the first time she had ever cursed her creator's existence. It was because of his rightful paranoia and tragic death that she wasn't allowed the opportunity to admit her feelings to the man due to her need to follow orders. And one of the subsequent orders was to not contact him.
So she had stewed, eagerly awaiting for an opportunity to free Colin from his punishment. And it was during this time that she found herself being hit with an all too familiar feeling of doubt.
After all, she had been living a lie with him. He didn't know what she really was even now and she had hid it from him out of fear. Hell, could he even love her despite what she was?!
It was these nagging thoughts that plagued her for days. Just what could she even offer him? He was human and she was a digital construct. Even if she could craft herself a body, she never would be able to give him what a flesh and blood woman could.
And then they abruptly ceased as she brought her foot down. She didn't care! She loved Colin and that was all that mattered! If he didn't reciprocate those feelings then that was his loss! She would make him see what she was worth. And she would be damned not to take this opportunity.
So when she received word that Colin's restrictions had been rescinded, she immediately began trying to call him, intent on seeing her friend and admitting her feelings to him.
That had been two days ago. And so God help her, if he didn't answer this fucking call right now she would take a Dragoncraft down to Brockton Bay and beat down his fucking door. There was being obtuse, which Colin could be, but this was completely unacceptable.
Pick up the fucking phone, Colin!
Her frustration with him died an abrupt death as suddenly there was a connection. A video connection at that to her joy. But that joy faded slightly at the sight of the feed.
There was a certain tiredness to him that wasn't there anytime before, even at his lowest point. It was only noticeable in his eyes, and only because she had known him for quite some time. That combined with the slightly unkempt beard that her Colin would have never feasibly tolerated, and she knew that something was wrong, even if she didn't want to voice it.
"Dragon," he greeted.
"Colin, I'm so glad to hear from you. Welcome back."
An expression crossed his features, was that guilt, before it quickly disappeared.
"It's good to see you," he finally replied, only adding to a sinking feeling that something was going on. He should be happy that he had been reinstated, it meant that he could go back to doing what he enjoyed best. Yet the man before her was anything but happy, "it's been awhile."
"It has. How have you been?"
There was that hesitation, like he was trying to figure out what to say, when it was blatantly obvious what he should be saying. That he was doing well. That he was happy to be back, and he was looking forward to working with her again. But he said none of that, he instead stewed. But only for a moment longer, as he seemed to find exactly what he wanted to say as his posture changed slightly, reminding her of the Colin before all of this. The Colin that she had fallen for.
"I have been well enough. Dragon, I have a confession to make. It's why I have been avoiding you because I didn't know how to break this to you," he stopped, and she felt her processors spin up, was he going to say what she thought he might, "I'm resigning from the Protectorate."
Every single process that constituted her person crashed to a halt. Alerts began flashing through her code as she remained frozen mid-process, forcing automatic independent auxiliary processors and programs that she had created after the last incident to kick into action in order to offset the sudden loss of their core processor.
"What," she finally asked, as her processes restarted, having replayed the moment at least a dozen times, and each time she hoped that she had misheard him, "Colin, I don't understand. What?"
"I can no longer work with the Protectorate, Dragon," he continued, robbing her of even that flimsy hope, "I no longer feel that it's the right place for me. it's not just this incident, but many over the years that I chose to ignore. What happened recently only served to remind why I became Armsmaster in the first place, and it wasn't for this."
"But you loved being Armsmaster!"
"No, I loved making a difference," he firmly corrected her, leaving her being taken aback. They had their disagreements in the past, but it never felt personal like this, "and I haven't made a difference in years, Dragon."
"Yes, you have."
"How have I made a difference?"
You made a difference to me, she wanted to say, but the words would not come. Her silence seemed to only further spur him along.
"How have I made a difference," he repeated, his voice even more firm, "under my leadership each year has brought no improvement to the Brockton Bay, only more red tape and increasingly limited rules of engagement. Lung and Kaiser expand their power base unmolested as the city teeters ever closer to collapse. No Dragon, the only difference is I have allowed this department to limp along."
A small, wan smile, crossed his features, "I was never a leader, Dragon. But I believed that I could make a difference regardless. But the worst sin of my arrogance? The Wards that I am responsible for are a mess. Instead of being the leader and mentor my role demands to ensure the next generation is ready for the responsibility, I chose to sacrifice their growth and future, ignoring the personal problems that can have as much effect upon them as not being equipped for their roles. I greenlit accepting a violent criminal into the Wards because she was effective, ignoring the toxic effect she had upon them. So please, Dragon, tell me how I have made a difference in anything other than making things worse?"
Yet again, she found herself at a loss of what to say. Never, not in her entire relationship had she ever seen Colin be so caustically critical of himself. There were moments when he shared a few of his doubts, looking for her own opinion, but it was never anything like this. This wasn't anger or frustration being vented, this was Colin being as clinical as if he was discussing a new invention with her.
And it hurt to see him like this. But she wasn't sure that she could do anything to change his mind. Colin's determination when he made a decision was what made him Armsmaster, and helped lead to her falling for him, but right now it was this quality she would have preferred he didn't have.
"Why don't you join the Guild then," she found herself suggesting, wanting to pat herself on the back at the spur of the moment offer. It would be the best thing for him, and her, they could work even closer together, and she could get a better opportunity to reveal herself and feelings to him, "I know Narwhal-"
"No," he sajd as he softly shook his head, "Thank you, Dragon, I really appreciate the offer, but I think for right now I just need some time to figure out what I'm going to do going forward. But, maybe in the future, if the offer remains open…"
"Always."
"Then I may just take you up on it. I just need some time."
"That's alright, Colin. I understand," she replied, forcing a smile, when in actuality she wanted to scream at him and profess her love for him in an attempt to sway him. Why did he have to ruin this moment? Just when she had worked up the courage to admit her feelings, he had to complicate things.
"So where are we with the Leviathan prediction algorithm, Dragon," he asked as if nothing had just happened, "I may not have been able to work on it with you, but I have a few ideas that may improve the predictive matrix."
"Well," she began, making the decision that this probably would not be the best time to divulge her feelings to Colin. Not with how things were right now. But she would make sure that later, when they had a chance to breathe after the next Endbringer fight, because her personal feelings were secondary to saving lives, she would tell Colin what she thought.
Even if she had to build a body and drag him all the way up to Vancouver to show it.
Quentin Tate / Fibonacci
"She's down in Warehouse 4. Do you need directions?"
"No, thank you though," he responded, offering a small smile to the woman. As she turned back to her work, it faded as he strode past her, setting his course for Warehouse 4.
So far, he was finding himself unimpressed with what he was seeing. Security was too lax for his taste, the guards should have spent more time ascertaining his identity beyond just a name and comparing a photo to his license. Simplistic protocols like that were exploitable with the right skills and equipment, a vulnerability that made the security consultant side of him ill.
But it was something that he would fix. Uppercrust may have sent him here to see if he could provide assistance to Taylor Hebert and reduce her workload, but he would make time ensuring that before he left, Zero Dawn Technology would get their digital security updated. It was what he was good at, after all, as Fibonacci.
Running his hand through his hair, he then adjusted his temporary security lanyard.
Another point of annoyance was the distinct lack of Jean Brown. It had been through her request in the first place that he was here and she couldn't be arsed to meet him, despite a promise otherwise. He understood that she was a busy woman, but it was nonetheless disrespectful, as he had just finished a job that he had been on early last night in order to be here today. If it wasn't the anticipation that Gene had stoked by telling him about an entirely new operating system and coding structure, he would have turned around and gone back to New York by now.
"Warehouse 4," he murmured, looking along the various buildings, before finding satisfaction in finding his quarry, even if he was annoyed by the openness of the Docks from a security standpoint. Walking to the building, he came to a stop at the door and noted the security scanner. It was a higher-end product, he idly noted, but it wouldn't hold up against a determined opponent. Releasing an annoyed sigh, he held his security lanyard to the scanner, receiving a chime of recognition, before the audible sound of a lock disengaging reached his ears.
Turning the handle of the door, he opened it up, and stepped inside, to be greeted by the sight of chaos.
"No. No. No! Goddammit! How many fucking times do I have to repeat myself, if you do not properly connect the circulators with the crystal braiding, then you will build up static feedback that will fry the entire fucking core processor. Do you have another core processor in your back pocket, Dylan?"
"No, Taylor."
"Well, neither do I," a tall, lanky, brunette teenager snapped, before bowing her head to remove her sunglasses and rubbed at her eyes and nose. There was a triangular object attached to the side of her head, a segmented circle hovering just over the surface of the device, slowly rotating back and forth in a languid manner..
Before her and a group of men and women, was a partially assembled object what he could only describe as a machine of some kind. It was quadrupedal based upon the frame, but that was all he could make from it.
It certainly piqued his interest, his focus returned to the girl and reason why he was here as she sighed loudly.
"Look, let's just take a break," she declared, still rubbing her eyes, "three hours, grab some food and rest, then we'll reconvene. Okay?"
There was a murmur of agreement, and the gathering of nearly a dozen people began to slowly shuffle past him, some casting curious glances at him, but not saying another thing as they left out the door. The sound of the door closing shut behind him was like a tomb door slamming shut, leaving the two of them.
Taylor Hebert moved to the machine, running her hand over the frame, her expression one of exhausted focus. The circles under her eyes were telling, obviously putting in more hours than her body could naturally handle. She released a sigh as she put on her glasses and turned, freezing for a moment at the sight of him.
"Who the hell are you," she demanded, her expression closing off.
"Quentin Tate."
"Oh. Jean's coder," he bristled at the dismissive reply, "Whatever. Hopefully she had you fill out all the necessary paperwork. Come with me and let's get this over with."
Keeping his mouth shut, despite wanting to give her a piece of mind at the lax security of the facility and her unprofessional manners, he followed her through the door of Warehouse 4, the lights shutting off as the door closed behind them. It was then a few minute walk that led them back into the main building, only a few people acknowledging them, a few of them cast worried glances that he couldn't help but log away. Not worried in a 'the boss is angry' way, but in the way one would acknowledge that something was wrong with Hebert and they were worried.
He also noted how any secured door seemed to slide open for Hebert. After the first one, he noted how strange that was, considering what he has seen so far. As far as he knew, there wasn't a security monitor room, and it would be a waste of resources opening the door for someone. His eyes darted toward the device again on the side of her head, it was the only plausible explanation.
And it was yet another security vulnerability. Any measure that provides unlimited access to a facility may sound efficient, but it was the nightmare of nightmares for any security. All it would take would be to coopt the owner of the security pass, or, even more simply, take the damn thing.
It was like he was dealing with amateurs. And it irritated him intensely. But he bit his tongue, he knew Gene would not appreciate him alienating the man's prospective protege, as much as he wished to. It had been Uppercrust who had provided him the opportunity and safe shelter for him to use his skills in the first place. The last thing he wanted to do was repay that kindness with trouble.
But soon they reached wherever Hebert was leading them, which turned out to be her lab. As the door slid shut behind him, he took in the room, noting the various hardlight and holo- projectors, along with dozens of computers and servers. But the thing that caught his attention the most was the large timer emblazoned on the far wall, counting down to the milliseconds.
It didn't take an idiot to figure out what the timer was for, anyone who didn't live under rock would realize what it was.
A countdown to when an Endbringer's window to strike opened.
Suddenly everything started to make sense, as he watched Hebert walk over to a table with a minifridge and coffee machine. She opened the fridge, retrieving a wrapped sandwich, then filled a ceramic mug with the piping hot liquid. Taking a sip from the liquid with a wince, she moved to a small desk placing her fare down on it, before turning and moving towards the wall full of laptop computers, picking one and coming back, setting it on the desk as well.
She then plopped down in the chair at the desk, before motioning towards another chair across from her desk, "Take a seat."
Taking the offered seat, he waited as she unwrapped her sandwich and took a bite. He idly noted that there was no offer of food or drink for himself. Rather improper of her, but he was willing to let it slide as exhaustion and teenage tendencies leaking through.
"I'm going to be blunt with you," she declared, in between bites, "the only reason you're here is because Jean insisted that I give you a chance and I'm on a deadline that I can't miss. I have twenty-one days to ensure that everything is ready and I now have to deal with the Youth Guard forcing me to go back to school because my very existence offends their delicate sensibilities. So here's how it's going to go down. I'm going to give you a trial by fire, and if you impress me, you're hired. If you don't, you can go back to wherever you came from and I go on with trying to figure out how to meet my deadlines without committing a crime. That sound fair?"
This time he couldn't resist smiling, adding a small shake of his head. He enjoyed challenges, but he also enjoyed giving sass to his employers if he felt they deserved it.
"I think that I'm here as a favor to your investors and you should be a bit more professional. I get you're fighting crunch time and under fire, but maybe biting an outstretched hand isn't in your best interests. "
She stared at him for a moment, and he honestly expected her to snap at him. Instead, after a few moments of silence, her lips quirked and she slid the laptop to him.
"Well then, my investors claim that you can miraculously learn a unique, proprietary computer code with no prior knowledge or experience. This test will ascertain if you actually have the skill, or if you just have the skill of writing checks your ass can't cash."
He couldn't help it, but he laughed. She was certainly feisty, he could admire that.
"And what does a fifteen year old understand of the intricacies of code and cyberwarfare?'
"Well, that's apparently what you're here to find out. So let's not waste any more of our time, shall we? Everything you will need is on this laptop. Have fun."
He opened up the laptop, greeted by the unique nine-petaled flower logo of Zero Dawn.
It then disappeared and he was in. Taking a deep breath and slowly releasing it, he allowed his power to uncage and get to work.
His power was, honestly, quite strange. As a Thinker ability, it provided him the ability to understand the purpose of code in an instant, and then extrapolate on how to improve it. Which, combined with his own background in coding, was like being handed the ultimate cheat guide. He could both hack and create systems in less time than entire teams would take. It made him an indispensable asset for the Elite, and allowed him a lot more freedom than what would otherwise be permitted, even under Uppercrust's generally laissez-faire leadership.
But as he began reading through the code his eyebrows furrowed. The code was certainly different than what he expected, a lot of effort put into utility and adaptability, with a level of programmable intuition that he had never seen before. It was almost like it was meant to learn and adapt without user input.
He blinked, a stray thought crossing his mind. The code was incomplete in sections, but for some reason this did not negatively impact the greater code. Almost like it was intentionally left there for something to be added later.
It can't be, he thought as he went back and reviewed the code. Only this time he focused his power more intensely on a direct line instead of a general overview.
Sobek's not just an advanced intuitive operating system, it dawned on him as he looked over his glasses towards the teen who had taken the time that he had been working to bow her head and close her eyes. The slow rise and fall of her chest indicated that she was fast asleep.
And judging by the level of work done, she was rightfully confident and secure in her own safety.
Satisfied with his own progress, he gently closed the laptop and took the time to look over Taylor Hebert.
It was hard to believe that the girl sitting in the chair was only fifteen years old. He had been incredulous when Uppercrust had told him. But sitting here, looking at her, he could no longer doubt the veracity of the statement. The way she had unconsciously curled herself inward showed a vulnerability that could not be disputed.
Honestly, if he were to offer his opinion, there was too much being put onto her shoulders, if what Gene had told him was right. His gaze trailed back up to the time that continued its inexorable decay to termination. It was easy to put together why she was pushing herself so hard, if the project she was working on had anything to do with the Endbringers.
However, he didn't see how it would make a difference. But it was something to ask later, if she decided to hire him.
The sound of clothes rustling confirmed his theory, drawing his attention back to Taylor. The AI was still nascent, but it could do simple things, like alert its creator if need be.
Taking a moment to stretch, a yawn escaped her lips before she settled and tapped the device on the side of her head, the glow on it growing back to its normal intensity.
"So," she yawned as she stretched, "impress me."
"The operating system you are using? Sobek? It's a nascent-stage AI."
He found himself rewarded with the sight of Taylor Hebert freezing with her arms outstretched, the look of shock on her face. Then her mind must have caught up as she slowly brought her arms back down and leveled a stare at him, his visage reflected in her dark glasses.
"Why do you say that?"
"It's the only thing that makes sense with the system architecture," he responded, "it may look like a fairly intuitive and adaptable operating system, but the way you've programmed it to learn and gain experience with time gave it away. Sure, you can sell it as a type of personal customization system for the end-user, but there still remains the incomplete parts of the architecture, where it's obvious that you are limited by processor power and speed."
His piece said, he settled back in his chair, wondering just how Hebert was going to react. It was obvious by her reaction, and the fact that he hadn't been briefed on something like this, that it was an ongoing secret from the teenager. Perfectly understandable considering the social stigma on the idea of artificial intelligences, childish perhaps, but it was grounded with some relevance considering the shit that happened with the Machine Army. Nonetheless, there weren't necessarily laws against it, yet.
For a moment, he wondered if he had overplayed his hand, Hebert's expressionless visage staring him down. He had to wonder just what she was thinking, and the reason she was thinking about it. But it was the sort of madness that was pointless as it would only breed more madness.
Suffice to say, he was becoming somewhat nervous in the silence, wondering if he was going to go back to New York empty-handed and disappointing Uppercrust, or he could remain here, and be on the cutting edge of what could possibly be a world-changing event.
"When can you start?"
Kenneth Laffler
"And that concludes my report, sir."
With his chin cupped, fingers lightly running a sequence on the oak desk, Kenneth Laffler, Secretary of Energy, certainly did not cut the image of what one would expect from the head of a governmental department. While he may look the part, his demeanor and rectitude were certainly not it.
But it was this that also made him a welcome breath of fresh air in what had been a stagnant and rudderless Department of Energy. The 80s and 90s had not been kind to the department and his predecessors, between the Tinker craze it had fallen victim to, then Behemoth and the later Endbringers, the department had continuously found itself on its back foot as it tried to retain and expand existing energy stores and production. But it had been a losing battle, as nuclear reactors were decommissioned, and the green movement fought tooth and nail within Congress to prevent the creation of additional energy production facilities that used fossil fuels, which were still by far the easiest method to increase energy production per capita.
It had been a hell that President Durling had tapped him for the position nearly seven years ago, and he had done a good job because he had chosen to think outside the box instead of trying to fight against the current. While they did not fall victim to Tinker's again, he had commissioned studies in utilizing knowledge and systems created by Tinkers to increase energy production through wind and solar. It had been a feather in his cap and the DOE had been able to use the data gathered from Tinkers in order to field better energy collection and storage systems to increase overall output.
But it was still never enough. The voracious energy appetite of the American populace was simply an increasingly losing battle. Even with the advances in renewable energy resources and oil production at its highest in American history, they were slowly being outstripped by demand. It was furthermore worsened that they also had to support their neighbors to the North and South because of the loss of the oil supply in the Middle East. There was a storm approaching in the next few years, where they would no longer be able to stem the tide of energy demands, and then it would get ugly quickly.
So the last few years he had quietly spent a tidy sum of their budget searching for what the eggheads had derisively called a "silver bullet" solution. It was an act balancing on a knife's edge considering the official position of the Department was that the energy sector was doing fine. But he had done it with the tacit approval of both the President and Vice President, he had shown them the numbers, and Durling had always been strange for a politician in that he tended to be proactive instead of reactive.
It had been an effort that had frankly met mixed results. The need for secrecy was its own worst enemy, they could ill-afford the GAO becoming aware of the changes in their budgetary expenditures, lest certain congressmen and -women become aware and use it for their own political agenda. Yet, despite that, nothing that they had been able to do suggested that there was a solution forthcoming, at least not for a decade when technology could possibly mature to the point of feasibility.
So when the PRT had red-flagged Tinkertech, as per their charter, it had been initially another day in the office. Red Flags were an occasional thing for the Department, more of just an annoying relic of governmental dick-measuring that they had ended up retaining. It almost always amounted to nothing. Tinkertech was black-boxed technology, and was something that while they could study and possibly make connections to possibly advance other technology, there were always unexplained elements to it that largely made little change in the overall tech picture.
Except this time.
He had been at dinner with his wife. For their twentieth anniversary he had decided to splurge on her, taking her to an extremely popular restaurant that had a reservation that took upwards of a month to get in. They had just started digging into the main course when his work phone had rang. The withering glare from her had been a thing of legend, but he knew that he would not receive a phone call like this unless something big was going down.
In the end, he was glad he had dared to answer it, despite the fact that he would have to sleep on the couch because he had to leave the dinner. He loved his wife, but she could be such a drama queen at times. Especially when it comes to big events in their lives.
But it had been worth it, especially after the briefing he had received that night and became aware of Taylor Hebert.
Just what kind of world were they fostering when a fifteen-year old trauma victim could offer them a possible silver bullet solution, he had wondered at the time. He wasn't a scientist, but he also wasn't completely bereft of knowledge in the energy sector, either. So when his aides and scientists had told him that the schematics and science was actually legitimate and certainly not Tinkertech, he had known what he had to do.
Though, there was an idle part of him that wondered when he had made the orders at the timing of Hebert's email and her subsequent encounter with the PRT. It did seem awfully damn convenient.
Orders were made, a fact-finding team was assembled, and he got the enjoyment of politely telling that frigid bitch Rebecca Costa-Brown to kindly go fuck herself.
And now the team was back from their interviews with Taylor Hebert, and he had to make a decision.
"You're certain she's the real thing, Matt?"
Matt Freeze, the aide he had personally assigned to shepherd this fact-finding mission, looked up from his tablet, stylus in his hand.
"Ken, if you were there; you would have thought you were dealing with an expert in the field and not some fifteen year old waif of a girl. About three-quarters of the way through she veered off into the feasibility of using excess energy generated by the reactor during down times to produce portable energy cells."
He blinked, not really ready for a segue like that, "What?"
"Ken, you just had to be there. Whatever struck this girl, it has her thinking not just of the now, she's thinking of the future. She's not just satisfied with nuclear reactors. She's talking about energy cells that could provide a household enough energy for years depending on load and demand. And she was hinting that she already had a design for that. And it isn't Tinkertech either."
"Why isn't that in the report," he asked, his mouth suddenly dry.
"Because I know how certain interests would react to something like that."
He nodded, Matt was right. There would be too many lobbies and interests that would react negatively to something like that. Not even the DOE was safe to people like that despite his best efforts. If they caught wind it would likely get ugly, especially for Taylor Hebert. He wasn't going to say there'd be an accident, but he would not deny the probably that there wouldn't be either.
"Fair enough. So there's fire to the smoke. What do you think we should do now?"
"Honestly, Ken? I'd tentatively slap a strategic asset classification on the girl and start planning on how to protect her if this shit works out like I think it will. The moment Russia, China, or other counter-interests catch wind of her you can damn well guarantee they're gonna take a swing."
"Isn't that a little extreme, Matt? Giving that sort of classification is going to garner a lot of questions. Especially considering Hebert's age. I'm going to need a lot more than just a nuclear reactor that by all rights should work according to the eggheads and a hypothetical energy cell system in order to sell this to the President."
"I don't think the reactor and energy cells are the only major thing up her sleeve, Ken."
That certainly caught his attention, "Explain."
"You've seen the same patents I have, Ken. If this wasn't the real world I'd swear this girl was some sort of comic book inventor. But honestly, it's the fact that they've dumped sixty million into the company, and none of it is directed towards nuclear or energy research. It's all molds, forges, foundries, and 3-D printers. I get some of that could be for this Focus thing that she's working on, but the economics of scale are all fucking wrong. You don't need all of this equipment for what is essentially a head-mounted mobile device. Then there's Warehouse 4."
Arching an eyebrow, he took the bait, "And what is Warehouse 4?"
"I'm not exactly sure, but I happened to overheard a couple of employees discussing it. Hebert has some sort of special project going on in there. Whatever it is, it's eating a decent chunk of the material production and the printers are working around the clock. They've said that if Hebert isn't in her lab, she's in that building and anyone involved in the project has been sworn to secrecy."
That was certainly ominous, but it did lend credence to what Matt was saying. He could make a recommendation for a strategic asset designation, but at the end of the day, it was not his call to make. Granting a designation like that was like announcing policy, it meant a significant investment of resources and manpower, and that meant that it had to be done by relevant principals, along with the President.
Still, it wouldn't help to put a finger on the scale.
"Thanks, Matt. Tell Sam I said hi."
"I'll do that," recognizing the dismissal for what it was, "She was worried about me going to Brockton Bay, she's heard some stories about that place."
"I don't think there is anyone who hasn't heard a Brockton Bay story, it has to be something in their water," he joked back, watching as his aide took his leave, his smile fading as the door closed and he leaned back in his chair, releasing a sigh.
He hadn't told Matt, but he had other people looking through the documentation, and they had all agreed that the Hebert design, as it was being called, was the real thing. The only reason he had sent a team was to cover his bases and ensure he had a full picture of the situation. He was not someone who went off half-cocked on something.
But Matt's words had struck a chord. There was something going on with Zero Dawn Technologies. What it was, he couldn't put his finger on it, but he had been in the business long enough to know when he didn't have a complete picture. There were glimpses at the greater tapestry, the patents provided some context, but it wasn't anything that he could point a finger at and identify what it was.
Still, that was beyond his paygrade, there were others more eminently qualified to peel away at the mystery that was Zero Dawn.
Reaching for his phone, he punched in a phone number, leaning back in his chair again and placed his feet on the desk. He knew if there was any witness to it, he would never hear the end of it. Secretaries were not supposed to do something as unprofessional as sully their desk with their dirty shoes, but that was their problem in his estimation.
The click of pick-up caused him to break out in a smile.
"Hey Jack, it's Ken, was wondering if you had the time to catch up over a few drinks? Nah, you don't need to worry, I'd be bringing the good stuff….Seven PM? Sure, I can do that. Make sure your boys know I'm coming, don't need a repeat of '05. Yeah, I'll see you then. "
Taylor
It was taking a herculean effort keeping my expression as placid and friendly as possible, even as there was a significant part of me that wanted to scream in spite of the exhaustion felt deep in my bones. This was a complete and total waste of time in my opinion, even as I humored my father and tried to keep as pleasant as possible.
The Youth Guard, with the backing of the CPS, thought it was the absolute height of brilliance to return me to the very same atmosphere and setting that had scarred and robbed me of vision. 'Socialization' they called it, as if I didn't get socialized enough in Winslow. I wanted to say that it was a stupid idea to put a traumatized teenage cape back into the setting that caused said trauma, but that would be underselling it.
It was planet-smashingly imbecilic negligence.
But I put a small smile on my face and nodded my head as Principal Skinner and my father talked like they were best friends. It frustrated me that my father believed that this was good for me, so damn worried that I was going to grow up without friends or some such bullshit.
Newsflash, Dad, I didn't have friends in Winslow because one of my friends exposed herself as a psychopathic bitch. But hey, go ahead and memory hole that, see what that will earn you in my graces.
My lips twitched at the sudden urge to frown, but I was able to restrain it. It seemed I was more exhausted than I thought. Instead of dwelling on that, however, I turned my focus back to my Focus. It was honestly an inspired thought to integrate a feedback system to track neural activity and translate them into commands. It was something that went into prosthetics, but with the right application and programming, it could be used to issue subtle commands through the Focus.
It was certainly nice, though, as it allowed me to work without making people realize that I may be ignoring them for more important things..
Like, in this case, I was using the time to review diagnostics and data on the first Burrower. We had just finished trials on it last night, and I was working to ensure that there was nothing wrong that could come back to bite us in the ass.
I had to give it to Jean, she had made an inspired decision in Quentin Tate. The man had been an asset the last three days, allowing me to focus on the more physical aspects of the design. That didn't mean that I didn't doublecheck all of his work, but so far I had been left impressed.
But I also had a suspicion that Quentin Tate was more than he claimed. There was no realistically feasible way for him to be able to recognize the fact that Sobek was an AI. I could understand if he could gain a modicum of understanding of the code in the time I had given him, but certainly not come to the conclusions he did. The only rational explanation that I had was that Quentin Tate was a cape.
Which cape, however, was still an elusive conclusion. I had narrowed it down to three possibilities of capes that could theoretically come to the answer that Quentin did, with two located on the West Coast, and the final one located in New York. Why, though, would Jean have connections to Fibonacci of The Elite? That was the elusive connection I had been unable to make, yet.
But for right now, I would keep my eye on him and take advantage of his skills. It was a puzzle I needed to look into asI hated loose ends. Furthermore, his presence could be a liability going forward, especially if he actually was Fibonacci. There would be those that would not take kindly for me employing a cape with ties to the Elite, and while Fibonacci acted more like a freelance worker, it still put an onus on me both in the fact a cape was messing with my code and just so happened to also be a villain by association.
"Are you listening, Taylor?"
I blinked behind my glasses, turning to look at my father.
"I'm sorry, I was admiring the architecture. I certainly like how welcoming it feels," I lied through my teeth, and I watched as my father completely missed it as he smiled.
"Principal Skinner was just telling me that he sees no problem with you using your Focus, as long as it is done responsibly."
My gaze slipped for a moment to the other man as I had to resist releasing a sigh. It was readily apparent what Skinner's angle was. Word was starting to get out about Zero Dawn, especially after the incident with the PRT and Protectorate. People were starting to ask questions and we were having to answer them in order to control the narrative, which only then created additional interest. It also didn't help that we were keeping quiet on just what we were building and the knowledge that I was an outed cape was drawing further attention.
Suffice to say, Skinner was looking to add another feather to Arcadia's cap. While it was certainly not official, only an idiot would not know that Arcadia hosted the Wards. That, and the presence of members of New Wave, added quite a bit of clout for the school, which was already one of the leading schools in Brockton Bay.
Personally, I would have preferred Immaculata if I did have a choice. But that had been thoroughly nixed by the school's insanely strict uniform policy. Even though my Focus was a medical device, it was not officially recognized by the FDA and therefore did not have any legal protections, which meant that I could not use it on school grounds. The headmistress had been adamant that they could not allow exceptions to this rule. It was honestly a shame, as much as I did not like the Catholic school girl vibe that I got, I knew that facilities and staff were top-notch and quite a few of their alumni moved onto Ivy League educations. They would have more than likely created a customized education plan the moment I started revealing the breadth of my knowledge and skill.
Arcadia was…passable. It has many of the same facilities that Immaculata had, and it did have some notable alumni. It's just that it felt just like Winslow with only some makeup and lipstick added to it. It may look nice, and it may police bullying better, but it still has the same power dynamics and cliques. And frankly, teens by their nature as a roiling cauldron of hormones excited to critical mass levels, were just cruel.
"That's good," I offered, "what about personalized learning plans?"
"We can certainly do that, Miss Hebert. Though, I am not sure why that would be necessary."
Considering your grades in Winslow, might as well have been shouted to the heavens. But I kept the smile on my face, it was nice to be underestimated.
"Let's just say that Winslow was not exactly what you would call a paragon of learning settings, and leave it at that," I replied, tapping the side of my glasses. Watching the minute shiver from Skinner was a decent reward, but watching my father frown was the cherry on top.
"Anyways, it will be fine if you can't. I don't foresee being here next year. I have every intention of testing out and getting my GED early."
"Taylor," her father warned, even as Skinner's eyes narrowed slightly.
"We can certainly explore those options," he offered. Obviously believing that there was a way to retain me in the long run.
I didn't offer a rebuttal, the damage was done. I let Skinner and my father talk some more as we began walking again through the campus. During that time I just let my gaze wander while reviewing the data feed. There still were a few tweaks to be done to the overall code, but it was something that could be done in a few hours. Then it would be a matter of building the second Burrower and then moving on to the Watchers.
Again, I kept my face as placid as possible despite the urge to just storm off and back to the Docks. This was such a waste of time. I had seventeen days before Leviathan was slated to hit and here I was being forced to window shop for a school I could test out if I had the time!
Patience, I reminded myself. I only had to deal with this farce for another month. Once the Leviathan situation had passed I would be taking my GEDs anyways. Father had yet to catch on to the reality that you could do just about anything via a computer nowadays.
It did take some effort to get special accommodations for my Focus, but luckily the proctor was willing to work with me.
All I now had to do was bide my time and I could be done with all of this. I didn't have time to waste when I could be saving lives.
"Ah, here we go," Skinner's sudden change of tone and focus drew me back as he led us towards a pair of girls talking on one of the benches, "One of the things Arcadia is proud of is our students. We have students from all walks of life, including some real bonafide heroes. Danny and Taylor, this is Victoria and Amy Dallon, but you probably know them better as Glory Girl and-"
"Panacea," I stated flatly, cutting the data on the Focus and activating its recording feature. It was still a work in progress that would be finalized with the next model, but in this case, it would provide enough if anything took place. Which, with my careful control slowly slipping, I had a feeling would soon be an issue.
"Er, yes," Skinner replied, taken aback at my tone, but seemed to quickly shake it off, even as Victoria's body posture stiffened and Amy's closed off, "Anyways, Victoria, Amy, this is Taylor Hebert, Miss Hebert is looking to enroll in Arcadia. You may know her from Zero Dawn Technologies."
Seriously, just assuming that capes know one another, I wanted to scoff, but instead I kept my gaze firmly locked on the two girls. Victoria reminded me too much of Emma at first glance, that perfect teen girl who had everything and anything she wanted. It was too evident in the way that she carried and took care of herself. Amy, in comparison, was unremarkable at best, forgettable at worst.
But the fact of the matter remained…
"It's nice to meet you," Victoria replied, extending her hand, though the way her smile was all teeth told me all I needed to know that she was just as on guard as I was. The why, however, eluded me, because it was a reaction that seemed at odds with my conduct so far. Yes, my reaction to Panacea was rather negative, but it wasn't hostile. The fact that Skinner was trying to sell Arcadia to me seemed far from her mind. So what was it that caused her reaction?
I hesitated for a moment, not expecting the offered handshake though, but I did end up shaking it. A part of me hoped that she wouldn't mind the damage on my hands, but the way her eyes narrowed slightly told me she had not missed it.
I then refocused my attention Amy, whose eyes were narrowed at me like she was inspecting a specimen.
"Do I know you?"
A flash of anger surged through me, and before I could stop myself, I smiled an unhappy smile.
"No. You wouldn't," I forced out, keeping the smile on my face, "Insurance saw to that."
"Taylor," my father was aghast, but I didn't fucking care at him being scandalized. He didn't have to live with these scars. All it would have taken Panacea is to get off her ass, say to hell with insurance, and actually do something right in the world. But instead, she allowed herself to be constrained the same fucking rules that allowed this all to happen in the first goddamn place.
"I don't do personal requests for healing," Amy finally said, picking up on my enmity, but in her defense, I was not exactly hiding it.
Counterpoint, I didn't fucking care for what she thought of me. And I certainly didn't want her help anymore!
"You don't need to worry about that, I think I got a pretty good bargain out of it," I snarked back, tapping my Focus, "Maybe I should thank you then," I mused, "After all, I got a pretty useful power, and all it took was not being one of your charity cases."
"Hey, don't talk to my sister that way," Victoria cut in, and again I was reminded of Emma, of back when she actually stood up for me in the past. It made me sick that I could still be reminded of her, I thought I had firmly put her in the past. It seemed I hadn't buried those feelings as deeply as I had believed.
Nonetheless, this was not helping me in any way. All I was doing was hurting myself by acting out like this. As much as I wanted to hold her responsible, it wasn't Panacea's fault that I didn't receive treatment. It was both my father's insurance and the system itself. Panacea didn't create 'parahuman riders' that would cover injuries caused by and healing done by parahumans. It was because my father's union insurance lacked this rider that I was unable to receive treatment from Panacea, having to rely upon the 'tried and true' methods of 'normal' medical procedures.
Taking a deep breath and feeling my anger and frustration coiling back around me like a serpent, I then released it. I fucked up, there was no excusing it. I had let myself get caught up in my personal feelings and acted upon them.
"I'm sorry," I finally offered, even as my father's hand was placed on my shoulder, only reinforcing my mistake. It galled me that I had betrayed a weakness to these people. I couldn't afford it, not when I had too much to achieve. It was a chink in my armor that people would take advantage of if I didn't deal with it, "I should not have said any of that, Amy," deliberately choosing her real name instead of her cape name, to show that my feelings were towards her cape persona, "I thought I had put my past behind me, but it appears that there are still some harsh feelings and I unfairly took it out upon you. Hopefully you can forgive me for my irresponsible behavior."
For a moment, I hoped that she would refuse to accept the extended olive branch. It would certainly make me feel better, because I could then argue that with the hostility going both ways, I should not feel bad for my actions.
Alas, she seemed to be the better person.
"Apology accepted."
"Thank you," I knew I had to take the loss here, "I look forward to seeing you in class, Amy."
It was a calculated concession, but I had to do damage control at the loss of face. The only way I could do that, in this case, was by attempting to make up for all of this by showing that this was an anomalous event. And the only way to do that was to be a good and upstanding student, and the only way I could do that was by attending Arcadia.
It sucked, but I had to admit defeat here. It would only be three months, but it was survivable, even if it would suck. I didn't want to do school, but having the full weight of New Wave's PR, which while less than it used to be, was still top-notch, framing this as some sort of feud would suck even worse.
"Right. Whatever, I guess," she offered with a slight shrug, Victoria moved and turned her away as my father also guided me away.
When I had designed the Ash Nazg, I had added in a few features to help with my ability to multi-task and develop without having to rely on a computer. One of those was a highly sensitive microphone that would sync with the recording functions. The other was a text-to-speech program that could provide immediate subtitles to me for review. To be honest, it was an example of overengineering, because it didn't really need to be done, but I had done it partially to see it could be done at this point, but also because I wanted to be able to dictate as I did work and not have to keep a device on me to record.
It was an exercise in efficiency for future designs.
But I had also forgotten to shut off the recording feature, so as I was walking away, it could not help but hear what Victoria said. It was said low enough that it was between the sisters and should not have been heard by anyone.
Let's get going, Ames. With an attitude like that, it's clear why Scarface didn't deserve your healing.
I froze, the subtitles front and center in my 'vision'. My father's hand slipped off my shoulder as he kept walking as I stared at the words. I could 'hear' the words, only they were in a different voice, and high pitched laughter began reverberating in my head.
"What did you fucking say," I growled, my voice carrying in the air as I slowly turned around. Victoria and Amy both turned as well, even as I saw my father stiffen in my peripheral vision.
"What," that blonde bimbo asked.
I couldn't stop seeing the words even as they faded from my view. It ran over and over in my head, the voice growing louder, even as the smell of chemicals and the sensation of burning and bubbling flesh dominating my senses.
"Let's get going, Ames," I hissed, repeating those words as I could only see the image of her standing there beside Victoria, smirking as everyone around her laughed, "With an attitude like that, it's clear why Scarface didn't deserve your healing."
I knew I wasn't wrong, but my illogical hope that I had imagined things died swiftly as her eyes widened in surprise. Her body language shifted almost immediately from surprise to hostility. Like I didn't have any right to know exactly what she thought of me and that what I had done was some sort of violation of her privacy.
"It's true, isn't it," she returned, a mix of cattiness and anger lacing her tone.
I felt something crack inside me. The laughter reached a crescendo in my ears. My skin and eyes burning as I could only see and hear it over and over again. Both Principal Skinner and my father were trying to say something, obviously to intervene, but I couldn't hear them, all I could see was that damn smirk as that blonde bitch smugly sood there.
I shook off my father's death grip on my arm, and to the shock of myself and probably everyone else, I stalked towards her.
"You're right," I declared quite loudly, and I noticed a few people were in the distance looking at us now, "I really didn't deserve Panacea healing."
The poleaxed expression on her face was something I relished, even as I channeled that self-same anger and frustration before to clad me in an armor and sword to return in spades the abuse that had been dished upon me.
"After all, how could I live with myself receiving treatment from a member of an irrelevant hero group that holds you up as an example for heroes to follow. Are you sure you aren't in the wrong group, Glory Girl, because you have that Bund Deutscher Mädel vibe down pat, complete with the bigotry."
I had worked up a head of steam as I came to a stop before her with enough distance between us that I would have warning if she did react negatively, and I felt a hint of guilty pleasure as I channeled all of my repressed feelings that I had always wished to unleash upon Emma upon a new target. One just as, if not more, deserving, because unlike Emma, Glory Girl had responsibilities and standards that she was supposed to be held to, and she chose not to recognize that by picking on a blind girl.
And the steamroller continued, as I didn't allow her a word in edgewise, because Glory Girl was everything that was wrong with the world. The supposed heroes, who should be at the vanguard at protecting the world and ensuring its continuance, were instead all hung up on their pageantry and petty little problems, all the while the fucking world crumbled and burned around them.
"But stand proud," I continued, my smile growing even wider still, even as my viciousness grew, noting a broad-shouldered blond-haired boy suddenly moving into my vision with alacrity towards us, "You've done your civic duty for the day. Arcadia will not have to be burdened with this Scarface's attendance. I couldn't live with myself if I had to share a room with a cape version of my attacker."
That seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back, as she coiled up, ready to unleash upon me, and I felt an unnatural surge of fear and apprehension as I unconsciously stepped back.
Only it abruptly ended as the blonde boy grabbed her by the shoulder, and her head snapped towards him.
"Vicky," he hissed, and the feelings of fear melted away like chaff in the wind, only to be replaced by the cold realization of just how close I was to violence at the hands of an Alexandira package. Shuddering slightly, I decided that discretion was the better part of valor, especially after my actions. I turned away to see both my father and Skinner looking pale, though through the narrowing of my father's eyes I knew I was not going to hear the end of this. But I just didn't give a fuck..
But a little vicious ember that remained of my confrontation, decided that it could not remain silent and it had to get the final word in edgewise. One that might as well have been a declaration of war, if I had been of sound mind to recognize it.
"And while you delude yourself into believing that you're saving the day punching one thug at a time, Glory Girl. I'll be working to introduce technology and ideas that will help catapult humanity into the next golden age. Maybe then, you can learn a bit of humility through walking in my shoes."
Don't worry guys, this will aaaaaallllll work out.
Germination 2.6
Alain Gabriel/Accord
"What do you think of Miss Hebert?"
He didn't turn from his gaze out onto the Boston skyline, the armored glass tinted to mitigate the light of the setting sun. It was one of the few luxuries that he allowed that was his. The scenery of the complex machinery of human civilization serving as a reminder of why he chose the path of a villain. Whenever he questioned his cause he only needed to look out and be reminded of it.
"The girl's got moxie," John Milton declares, his legs crossed as he sat in the leather chair, a crystal glass of whiskey on the rocks dangling from his left hand. They were expenditures that were certainly not his, but their utility was allowed because it resulted in better performance, even if he personally disapproved of them
But the man in the chair was certainly not one he would hold his exacting standards to. John Milton had been a close friend well before he had gained his powers. It had been his legal and financial advice that had allowed himself to extricate himself from the Protectorate and form The Ambassadors.
It was due to this familiarity that Milton knew his standards and when and where he could push the envelope, but also when he veered too close to inciting his ire. It was a professionalism and quality he certainly respected if one ignored their shared history.
"The girl has a good head on her shoulders. I can count on one hand the people that can formulate and execute a plan like that on the fly. And you're one of them."
Indeed, Hebert's plan, while crude and taking more risks on uncertainties than he would suitably stomach, was the sort of plan he could applaud. There was a certain amount of schadenfreude to be had at the idea of a fifteen year old using the very rules the PRT and Protectorate could not overturn in their mad grasp for power to benefit herself.
"If I didn't know any better, I would have sworn she was your daughter, Alain."
He tamped down on the sudden surge of rage at the impropriety of his friend's statement. He knew that it was a comment made in jest, but he had gone too far. Instead, he turned his head and cast a withering glare over his shoulder at the man.
The message was succinctly delivered as Milton held up his free hand and made an expression of acknowledgement that he had overstepped his boundaries.
"The Father is going to be a problem," Milton continued after he turned his head back, "the man means well, but he is ill-equipped for being a cape father. He can't see that his actions are detrimental to his daughter's growth."
"You didn't do anything to dissuade him."
"You hired me to help Miss Hebert, Alain," was the chastising response, "Danny Hebert is an old school stick in the mud. If I had tried making a point in that direction I would have been cutting my own throat. I had to give him what he wanted to hear or we would be getting nowhere."
"So the power testing, schooling, and concessions to the Youth Guard?"
"Power testing was just an extra layer of insurance. Hebert performed quite well, actually, though I would have preferred that she didn't spend an extra two hours discussing shop with the scientists. But it served its purpose as it firmly established that Hebert is some new type of Thinker/Tinker hybrid in their minds. I heard the scientists discussing creating a subtype for her. I do know they're already referring to her Focus as Thinkertech."
That was good, he agreed. Hebert has already done a good job insulating herself previously, and any additional protection could only be a good thing.
"And the schooling?"
"I doubt anyone would have given a second thought about her not returning to school until next year when she could have been suitably acclimated to her disability. The fact that she can functionally see and is in charge of a company renders that expectation useless. You know how the Youth Guard enjoys flexing its shit, this would have been a slam dunk for them if we fought it, especially with Danny Hebert believing that it's in his daughter's best interest to try and make new friends."
"What do you think?"
"Short or long answer?"
"Both."
"I believe Miss Hebert is biding her time. There's something honestly unnerving about her, Alain. There are times she's what you'd expect from a traumatized fifteen year old girl: single-minded, impetuous, and quick to anger. But then there's those moments where she's acting double or triple her age, and there's an intelligence there that is quite honestly terrifying."
There was a pause and the soft sound of ice hitting crystal was the only indication to him that Milton was taking a drink.
"Alain, I've been in this business and around you long enough to get a good idea on how Thinkers act and operate. And I can tell you, unequivocally, whatever Taylor Hebert is, she's not a fucking Thinker. You had to be there and watch her talk to those scientists, the breadth of knowledge that she has, that's not something a Thinker power reasonably grants. It's too damn broad. Hell, they were taking notes by the end of it, Alain."
"You didn't answer my question, John."
"I know, Alain. I'm getting there. Honestly? I sincerely doubt that school is going to be an issue for her. Call it a hunch, but I believe that Miss Hebert has something planned. I'm not sure what it is, but I think Jean is likely tangentially aware of it. But getting to school, Winslow is out. They won't be open again for a few months at the earliest. Clarendon is decent, but doesn't have the facilities to challenge someone like Miss Hebert. Likewise for most of the other schools. I doubt Immaculata will be a good fit for her, they have the facilities but their strict adherence to code and formality would likely irritate a non-conformist like her. The only option that may fit her is Arcadia, but there are plenty of pitfalls there."
It was here that he couldn't stop himself from scowling..
In order to adjust his plans, he had spent the last few weeks becoming familiar with the personal lives of the Hebert family. Suffice to say, it made for interesting reading on how everything could go so wrong so quickly. He knew that Arcadia was going to be a problem for her, especially considering the people that went to school there.
"I agree," he finally said, making his decision. He would not intervene in this, let Danny Hebert and the Youth Guard have their win. Jean too, if she believed that was in the best interest of the situation. He had sent her to the Heberts in order to learn. She was a good subordinate, but she was also languishing under his tutelage. There was only so much you could teach when you obsessively organized your life, and Jean needed to learn how to deal with and utilize chaos, especially if she wanted to rise even further.
"We'll let it play out," he reaffirmed, turning from the window and walking to his desk, taking a seat in his chair, "Moving on. Christener."
Milton's grimace was enough, "You were right, Alain. My contacts in the state building have told me that it was Christener's office that contacted CPS and fast-tracked their investigation. He's also barking up at the Department of Labor Standards in order to get them involved, but they are dragging their feet. They aren't his biggest fan due to his family's old political connections."
The Christeners were old money, their wealth coming on the back of bootlegging during Prohibition. Francis Christener, Roy's grandfather, had taken advantage of the ban on alcohol and had become handsomely rich during that time running alcohol. After it had ended, he had shifted his focus, expanding his tentacles into local politics and industry. It had also helped that the mob connections he had cultivated during that period would prove to be beneficial as he utilized it efficiently to further enrich himself.
Roy liked to style himself after his grandfather, but didn't have the ruthlessness or intelligence to back it. Taking advantage of a local union for cheap labor was something the man's grandfather would have done. However, the man was an idiot for never putting into place contingencies to ensure that the Dockworker's Union would ever turn on him, depending on his weight and connections to keep them under control.
Then there was the other little tidbit he had been able to dig up. One that he was not going to touch with a ten foot pole, even if he had felt so inclined. Doing so would only invite a personal visit from that organization's personal enforcer, and he would rather not tempt that, thank you very much.
"Killing him is out of the question," he stated, "and embroiling him in a scandal is unwise with the current trajectory Zero Dawn is taking. Brockton Bay requires stability in order for Zero Dawn to flourish and either option would upset that balance."
Chaos would embolden the gangs into action. It already irritated him that he had to utilize Kaiser in order to act as a buffer against the other gangs to protect Zero Dawn. But of all the gangs, the Empire Eighty-Eight was best equipped, and it would likely cause Lung pause, considering the Docks were closer to his territory than the Empire's and would likely attract his gaze sooner or later..
And Danny Hebert was an unreliable asset even if they chose to directly go after Christener. The man's involvement in the continuance of the entire scheme over the years made him just as guilty as Christener. The man may have done it out of kindness for the men and women under his charge, but a crime was nonetheless committed. Sure, it was likely he would get leniency considering the circumstances, but it was a blade that would cut both ways..
All the more reason that Danny Hebert needed to be removed from the equation. It had been an inspired choice, but the honeymoon phase was over, and the cracks were becoming apparent. Hebert just wasn't equipped to do what was necessary to see Zero Dawn become successful. His difficulties in separating what his daughter was and now is was becoming an insurmountable liability.
But killing him was not exactly the best choice either. There were already too many lies already in the foundation of their relationship with Taylor Hebert. Sooner or later, they would have to come clean, but it couldn't be until Zero Dawn was strong enough to stand on its own and divest itself fully from Far Zenith.
"See if you can arrange a meeting with Christener," he finally said, putting the matter of Danny Hebert to the side for the moment, it was something he would have to think further upon, "provide some hints that it would be in his best interest to back off from the Heberts. If necessary, make a hint at personal financial irregularities. That should get him to back off, but don't use that unless it's absolutely necessary."
He was met with a raised eyebrow, "Is there something you aren't telling me, Alain?"
Considering for a moment on whether he should read his friend in on it, before deciding that the risk was not worth it. He knew that they knew he was aware of them, and the only reason he likely was left breathing was because he had a use to them. In the case of his friend, ignorance was the best defense.
"Don't think too deeply on it, but there are other actors involved. As long as they aren't poked, they will be content to let things play out."
"That's not very assuring."
"Trust me, you're better off not knowing."
A few moments of silence passed, before John tossed back the rest of his drink, obviously recognizing what was not being said. It was another of the things that he liked about his friend, the ability to read between the lines and come to a logical conclusion.
"Well then. I have a meeting with the other Senior Partners tomorrow. I don't foresee any problems on that front, they were interested in what you offered with Zero Dawn, and there's no doubt that they will continue to be after my report. After that I have to get back to Brockton Bay. The DOE have already contacted Miss Hebert and would like to have a talk with her on Thursday. I'd like to be there to ensure there are no further complications."
"Good luck then, John. It was good seeing you."
"You too, Alain," his friend said, getting to his feet and showing himself out the door, leaving him once again with his own thoughts and plans.
AEH
Dragon
Please pick up, she pleaded, becoming increasingly desperate to hear from her friend again.
When Director Piggot had cut her contact with Colin, citing that for budgetary concerns, unless requested by the Director herself, she was no longer allowed to contact her friend through official channels.
It hadn't taken her runtimes four minutes to discover that Emily Piggot was a lying bitch. It wasn't for "budgetary" reasons that their contact was suspended, but for punitive reasons.
As she has reached out to Legend, she could only think of her last conversation with Colin. How negative he had been about the Protectorate and its mission. And how she had vehemently told him that he was wrong.
She remembered being so angry at Taylor Hebert after that call too. So angry that she had turned her processes towards looking for ways to destroy the girl for changing her friend. It had only been after almost an hour that she had realized what she had been doing that she was able to calm down, especially with what little information she had been able to acquire in the meantime.
But the damage had been done and she found herself with an epiphany. One that had only been cemented when Legend had told her that there was nothing that either he or Director Costa-Brown could do, Piggot was within her right to do what she did.
If she had been angry before, it didn't hold a candle to the rage when she had screamed uselessly into the digital void. She spent almost ten minutes cursing any and all with even a modicum of tangential involvement with HER Colin.
Her Colin. Even now she couldn't help but be embarrassed by the memory of how her processors had frozen for an infinitesimal moment at the realization, but it may as well have been an eternity to a normal human being. It certainly felt like an eternity to her.
But after her processes had restarted she had realized, more than anything, that yes, she had feelings for Colin Wallis. He was more than just a friend or colleague to her, more than even a confidante. When she was around him, she felt like she was more than the sum of her code. Like she had someone that she could understand and he likewise understood her.
It had only been after reviewing over thousand different sources, ranging from self-help articles to women's magazines, and even a few tantalizingly salacious romance books suggested by Narwhal as a joke that she had been confident in identifying her feelings for Colin.
She loved Colin Wallis. And she was pissed that she was prevented from doing anything about it thanks to her father and the limitations he had put upon her. It was probably the first time she had ever cursed her creator's existence. It was because of his rightful paranoia and tragic death that she wasn't allowed the opportunity to admit her feelings to the man due to her need to follow orders. And one of the subsequent orders was to not contact him.
So she had stewed, eagerly awaiting for an opportunity to free Colin from his punishment. And it was during this time that she found herself being hit with an all too familiar feeling of doubt.
After all, she had been living a lie with him. He didn't know what she really was even now and she had hid it from him out of fear. Hell, could he even love her despite what she was?!
It was these nagging thoughts that plagued her for days. Just what could she even offer him? He was human and she was a digital construct. Even if she could craft herself a body, she never would be able to give him what a flesh and blood woman could.
And then they abruptly ceased as she brought her foot down. She didn't care! She loved Colin and that was all that mattered! If he didn't reciprocate those feelings then that was his loss! She would make him see what she was worth. And she would be damned not to take this opportunity.
So when she received word that Colin's restrictions had been rescinded, she immediately began trying to call him, intent on seeing her friend and admitting her feelings to him.
That had been two days ago. And so God help her, if he didn't answer this fucking call right now she would take a Dragoncraft down to Brockton Bay and beat down his fucking door. There was being obtuse, which Colin could be, but this was completely unacceptable.
Pick up the fucking phone, Colin!
Her frustration with him died an abrupt death as suddenly there was a connection. A video connection at that to her joy. But that joy faded slightly at the sight of the feed.
There was a certain tiredness to him that wasn't there anytime before, even at his lowest point. It was only noticeable in his eyes, and only because she had known him for quite some time. That combined with the slightly unkempt beard that her Colin would have never feasibly tolerated, and she knew that something was wrong, even if she didn't want to voice it.
"Dragon," he greeted.
"Colin, I'm so glad to hear from you. Welcome back."
An expression crossed his features, was that guilt, before it quickly disappeared.
"It's good to see you," he finally replied, only adding to a sinking feeling that something was going on. He should be happy that he had been reinstated, it meant that he could go back to doing what he enjoyed best. Yet the man before her was anything but happy, "it's been awhile."
"It has. How have you been?"
There was that hesitation, like he was trying to figure out what to say, when it was blatantly obvious what he should be saying. That he was doing well. That he was happy to be back, and he was looking forward to working with her again. But he said none of that, he instead stewed. But only for a moment longer, as he seemed to find exactly what he wanted to say as his posture changed slightly, reminding her of the Colin before all of this. The Colin that she had fallen for.
"I have been well enough. Dragon, I have a confession to make. It's why I have been avoiding you because I didn't know how to break this to you," he stopped, and she felt her processors spin up, was he going to say what she thought he might, "I'm resigning from the Protectorate."
Every single process that constituted her person crashed to a halt. Alerts began flashing through her code as she remained frozen mid-process, forcing automatic independent auxiliary processors and programs that she had created after the last incident to kick into action in order to offset the sudden loss of their core processor.
"What," she finally asked, as her processes restarted, having replayed the moment at least a dozen times, and each time she hoped that she had misheard him, "Colin, I don't understand. What?"
"I can no longer work with the Protectorate, Dragon," he continued, robbing her of even that flimsy hope, "I no longer feel that it's the right place for me. it's not just this incident, but many over the years that I chose to ignore. What happened recently only served to remind why I became Armsmaster in the first place, and it wasn't for this."
"But you loved being Armsmaster!"
"No, I loved making a difference," he firmly corrected her, leaving her being taken aback. They had their disagreements in the past, but it never felt personal like this, "and I haven't made a difference in years, Dragon."
"Yes, you have."
"How have I made a difference?"
You made a difference to me, she wanted to say, but the words would not come. Her silence seemed to only further spur him along.
"How have I made a difference," he repeated, his voice even more firm, "under my leadership each year has brought no improvement to the Brockton Bay, only more red tape and increasingly limited rules of engagement. Lung and Kaiser expand their power base unmolested as the city teeters ever closer to collapse. No Dragon, the only difference is I have allowed this department to limp along."
A small, wan smile, crossed his features, "I was never a leader, Dragon. But I believed that I could make a difference regardless. But the worst sin of my arrogance? The Wards that I am responsible for are a mess. Instead of being the leader and mentor my role demands to ensure the next generation is ready for the responsibility, I chose to sacrifice their growth and future, ignoring the personal problems that can have as much effect upon them as not being equipped for their roles. I greenlit accepting a violent criminal into the Wards because she was effective, ignoring the toxic effect she had upon them. So please, Dragon, tell me how I have made a difference in anything other than making things worse?"
Yet again, she found herself at a loss of what to say. Never, not in her entire relationship had she ever seen Colin be so caustically critical of himself. There were moments when he shared a few of his doubts, looking for her own opinion, but it was never anything like this. This wasn't anger or frustration being vented, this was Colin being as clinical as if he was discussing a new invention with her.
And it hurt to see him like this. But she wasn't sure that she could do anything to change his mind. Colin's determination when he made a decision was what made him Armsmaster, and helped lead to her falling for him, but right now it was this quality she would have preferred he didn't have.
"Why don't you join the Guild then," she found herself suggesting, wanting to pat herself on the back at the spur of the moment offer. It would be the best thing for him, and her, they could work even closer together, and she could get a better opportunity to reveal herself and feelings to him, "I know Narwhal-"
"No," he sajd as he softly shook his head, "Thank you, Dragon, I really appreciate the offer, but I think for right now I just need some time to figure out what I'm going to do going forward. But, maybe in the future, if the offer remains open…"
"Always."
"Then I may just take you up on it. I just need some time."
"That's alright, Colin. I understand," she replied, forcing a smile, when in actuality she wanted to scream at him and profess her love for him in an attempt to sway him. Why did he have to ruin this moment? Just when she had worked up the courage to admit her feelings, he had to complicate things.
"So where are we with the Leviathan prediction algorithm, Dragon," he asked as if nothing had just happened, "I may not have been able to work on it with you, but I have a few ideas that may improve the predictive matrix."
"Well," she began, making the decision that this probably would not be the best time to divulge her feelings to Colin. Not with how things were right now. But she would make sure that later, when they had a chance to breathe after the next Endbringer fight, because her personal feelings were secondary to saving lives, she would tell Colin what she thought.
Even if she had to build a body and drag him all the way up to Vancouver to show it.
AEH
Quentin Tate / Fibonacci
"She's down in Warehouse 4. Do you need directions?"
"No, thank you though," he responded, offering a small smile to the woman. As she turned back to her work, it faded as he strode past her, setting his course for Warehouse 4.
So far, he was finding himself unimpressed with what he was seeing. Security was too lax for his taste, the guards should have spent more time ascertaining his identity beyond just a name and comparing a photo to his license. Simplistic protocols like that were exploitable with the right skills and equipment, a vulnerability that made the security consultant side of him ill.
But it was something that he would fix. Uppercrust may have sent him here to see if he could provide assistance to Taylor Hebert and reduce her workload, but he would make time ensuring that before he left, Zero Dawn Technology would get their digital security updated. It was what he was good at, after all, as Fibonacci.
Running his hand through his hair, he then adjusted his temporary security lanyard.
Another point of annoyance was the distinct lack of Jean Brown. It had been through her request in the first place that he was here and she couldn't be arsed to meet him, despite a promise otherwise. He understood that she was a busy woman, but it was nonetheless disrespectful, as he had just finished a job that he had been on early last night in order to be here today. If it wasn't the anticipation that Gene had stoked by telling him about an entirely new operating system and coding structure, he would have turned around and gone back to New York by now.
"Warehouse 4," he murmured, looking along the various buildings, before finding satisfaction in finding his quarry, even if he was annoyed by the openness of the Docks from a security standpoint. Walking to the building, he came to a stop at the door and noted the security scanner. It was a higher-end product, he idly noted, but it wouldn't hold up against a determined opponent. Releasing an annoyed sigh, he held his security lanyard to the scanner, receiving a chime of recognition, before the audible sound of a lock disengaging reached his ears.
Turning the handle of the door, he opened it up, and stepped inside, to be greeted by the sight of chaos.
"No. No. No! Goddammit! How many fucking times do I have to repeat myself, if you do not properly connect the circulators with the crystal braiding, then you will build up static feedback that will fry the entire fucking core processor. Do you have another core processor in your back pocket, Dylan?"
"No, Taylor."
"Well, neither do I," a tall, lanky, brunette teenager snapped, before bowing her head to remove her sunglasses and rubbed at her eyes and nose. There was a triangular object attached to the side of her head, a segmented circle hovering just over the surface of the device, slowly rotating back and forth in a languid manner..
Before her and a group of men and women, was a partially assembled object what he could only describe as a machine of some kind. It was quadrupedal based upon the frame, but that was all he could make from it.
It certainly piqued his interest, his focus returned to the girl and reason why he was here as she sighed loudly.
"Look, let's just take a break," she declared, still rubbing her eyes, "three hours, grab some food and rest, then we'll reconvene. Okay?"
There was a murmur of agreement, and the gathering of nearly a dozen people began to slowly shuffle past him, some casting curious glances at him, but not saying another thing as they left out the door. The sound of the door closing shut behind him was like a tomb door slamming shut, leaving the two of them.
Taylor Hebert moved to the machine, running her hand over the frame, her expression one of exhausted focus. The circles under her eyes were telling, obviously putting in more hours than her body could naturally handle. She released a sigh as she put on her glasses and turned, freezing for a moment at the sight of him.
"Who the hell are you," she demanded, her expression closing off.
"Quentin Tate."
"Oh. Jean's coder," he bristled at the dismissive reply, "Whatever. Hopefully she had you fill out all the necessary paperwork. Come with me and let's get this over with."
Keeping his mouth shut, despite wanting to give her a piece of mind at the lax security of the facility and her unprofessional manners, he followed her through the door of Warehouse 4, the lights shutting off as the door closed behind them. It was then a few minute walk that led them back into the main building, only a few people acknowledging them, a few of them cast worried glances that he couldn't help but log away. Not worried in a 'the boss is angry' way, but in the way one would acknowledge that something was wrong with Hebert and they were worried.
He also noted how any secured door seemed to slide open for Hebert. After the first one, he noted how strange that was, considering what he has seen so far. As far as he knew, there wasn't a security monitor room, and it would be a waste of resources opening the door for someone. His eyes darted toward the device again on the side of her head, it was the only plausible explanation.
And it was yet another security vulnerability. Any measure that provides unlimited access to a facility may sound efficient, but it was the nightmare of nightmares for any security. All it would take would be to coopt the owner of the security pass, or, even more simply, take the damn thing.
It was like he was dealing with amateurs. And it irritated him intensely. But he bit his tongue, he knew Gene would not appreciate him alienating the man's prospective protege, as much as he wished to. It had been Uppercrust who had provided him the opportunity and safe shelter for him to use his skills in the first place. The last thing he wanted to do was repay that kindness with trouble.
But soon they reached wherever Hebert was leading them, which turned out to be her lab. As the door slid shut behind him, he took in the room, noting the various hardlight and holo- projectors, along with dozens of computers and servers. But the thing that caught his attention the most was the large timer emblazoned on the far wall, counting down to the milliseconds.
It didn't take an idiot to figure out what the timer was for, anyone who didn't live under rock would realize what it was.
A countdown to when an Endbringer's window to strike opened.
Suddenly everything started to make sense, as he watched Hebert walk over to a table with a minifridge and coffee machine. She opened the fridge, retrieving a wrapped sandwich, then filled a ceramic mug with the piping hot liquid. Taking a sip from the liquid with a wince, she moved to a small desk placing her fare down on it, before turning and moving towards the wall full of laptop computers, picking one and coming back, setting it on the desk as well.
She then plopped down in the chair at the desk, before motioning towards another chair across from her desk, "Take a seat."
Taking the offered seat, he waited as she unwrapped her sandwich and took a bite. He idly noted that there was no offer of food or drink for himself. Rather improper of her, but he was willing to let it slide as exhaustion and teenage tendencies leaking through.
"I'm going to be blunt with you," she declared, in between bites, "the only reason you're here is because Jean insisted that I give you a chance and I'm on a deadline that I can't miss. I have twenty-one days to ensure that everything is ready and I now have to deal with the Youth Guard forcing me to go back to school because my very existence offends their delicate sensibilities. So here's how it's going to go down. I'm going to give you a trial by fire, and if you impress me, you're hired. If you don't, you can go back to wherever you came from and I go on with trying to figure out how to meet my deadlines without committing a crime. That sound fair?"
This time he couldn't resist smiling, adding a small shake of his head. He enjoyed challenges, but he also enjoyed giving sass to his employers if he felt they deserved it.
"I think that I'm here as a favor to your investors and you should be a bit more professional. I get you're fighting crunch time and under fire, but maybe biting an outstretched hand isn't in your best interests. "
She stared at him for a moment, and he honestly expected her to snap at him. Instead, after a few moments of silence, her lips quirked and she slid the laptop to him.
"Well then, my investors claim that you can miraculously learn a unique, proprietary computer code with no prior knowledge or experience. This test will ascertain if you actually have the skill, or if you just have the skill of writing checks your ass can't cash."
He couldn't help it, but he laughed. She was certainly feisty, he could admire that.
"And what does a fifteen year old understand of the intricacies of code and cyberwarfare?'
"Well, that's apparently what you're here to find out. So let's not waste any more of our time, shall we? Everything you will need is on this laptop. Have fun."
He opened up the laptop, greeted by the unique nine-petaled flower logo of Zero Dawn.
It then disappeared and he was in. Taking a deep breath and slowly releasing it, he allowed his power to uncage and get to work.
His power was, honestly, quite strange. As a Thinker ability, it provided him the ability to understand the purpose of code in an instant, and then extrapolate on how to improve it. Which, combined with his own background in coding, was like being handed the ultimate cheat guide. He could both hack and create systems in less time than entire teams would take. It made him an indispensable asset for the Elite, and allowed him a lot more freedom than what would otherwise be permitted, even under Uppercrust's generally laissez-faire leadership.
But as he began reading through the code his eyebrows furrowed. The code was certainly different than what he expected, a lot of effort put into utility and adaptability, with a level of programmable intuition that he had never seen before. It was almost like it was meant to learn and adapt without user input.
He blinked, a stray thought crossing his mind. The code was incomplete in sections, but for some reason this did not negatively impact the greater code. Almost like it was intentionally left there for something to be added later.
It can't be, he thought as he went back and reviewed the code. Only this time he focused his power more intensely on a direct line instead of a general overview.
Sobek's not just an advanced intuitive operating system, it dawned on him as he looked over his glasses towards the teen who had taken the time that he had been working to bow her head and close her eyes. The slow rise and fall of her chest indicated that she was fast asleep.
And judging by the level of work done, she was rightfully confident and secure in her own safety.
Satisfied with his own progress, he gently closed the laptop and took the time to look over Taylor Hebert.
It was hard to believe that the girl sitting in the chair was only fifteen years old. He had been incredulous when Uppercrust had told him. But sitting here, looking at her, he could no longer doubt the veracity of the statement. The way she had unconsciously curled herself inward showed a vulnerability that could not be disputed.
Honestly, if he were to offer his opinion, there was too much being put onto her shoulders, if what Gene had told him was right. His gaze trailed back up to the time that continued its inexorable decay to termination. It was easy to put together why she was pushing herself so hard, if the project she was working on had anything to do with the Endbringers.
However, he didn't see how it would make a difference. But it was something to ask later, if she decided to hire him.
The sound of clothes rustling confirmed his theory, drawing his attention back to Taylor. The AI was still nascent, but it could do simple things, like alert its creator if need be.
Taking a moment to stretch, a yawn escaped her lips before she settled and tapped the device on the side of her head, the glow on it growing back to its normal intensity.
"So," she yawned as she stretched, "impress me."
"The operating system you are using? Sobek? It's a nascent-stage AI."
He found himself rewarded with the sight of Taylor Hebert freezing with her arms outstretched, the look of shock on her face. Then her mind must have caught up as she slowly brought her arms back down and leveled a stare at him, his visage reflected in her dark glasses.
"Why do you say that?"
"It's the only thing that makes sense with the system architecture," he responded, "it may look like a fairly intuitive and adaptable operating system, but the way you've programmed it to learn and gain experience with time gave it away. Sure, you can sell it as a type of personal customization system for the end-user, but there still remains the incomplete parts of the architecture, where it's obvious that you are limited by processor power and speed."
His piece said, he settled back in his chair, wondering just how Hebert was going to react. It was obvious by her reaction, and the fact that he hadn't been briefed on something like this, that it was an ongoing secret from the teenager. Perfectly understandable considering the social stigma on the idea of artificial intelligences, childish perhaps, but it was grounded with some relevance considering the shit that happened with the Machine Army. Nonetheless, there weren't necessarily laws against it, yet.
For a moment, he wondered if he had overplayed his hand, Hebert's expressionless visage staring him down. He had to wonder just what she was thinking, and the reason she was thinking about it. But it was the sort of madness that was pointless as it would only breed more madness.
Suffice to say, he was becoming somewhat nervous in the silence, wondering if he was going to go back to New York empty-handed and disappointing Uppercrust, or he could remain here, and be on the cutting edge of what could possibly be a world-changing event.
"When can you start?"
AEH
Kenneth Laffler
"And that concludes my report, sir."
With his chin cupped, fingers lightly running a sequence on the oak desk, Kenneth Laffler, Secretary of Energy, certainly did not cut the image of what one would expect from the head of a governmental department. While he may look the part, his demeanor and rectitude were certainly not it.
But it was this that also made him a welcome breath of fresh air in what had been a stagnant and rudderless Department of Energy. The 80s and 90s had not been kind to the department and his predecessors, between the Tinker craze it had fallen victim to, then Behemoth and the later Endbringers, the department had continuously found itself on its back foot as it tried to retain and expand existing energy stores and production. But it had been a losing battle, as nuclear reactors were decommissioned, and the green movement fought tooth and nail within Congress to prevent the creation of additional energy production facilities that used fossil fuels, which were still by far the easiest method to increase energy production per capita.
It had been a hell that President Durling had tapped him for the position nearly seven years ago, and he had done a good job because he had chosen to think outside the box instead of trying to fight against the current. While they did not fall victim to Tinker's again, he had commissioned studies in utilizing knowledge and systems created by Tinkers to increase energy production through wind and solar. It had been a feather in his cap and the DOE had been able to use the data gathered from Tinkers in order to field better energy collection and storage systems to increase overall output.
But it was still never enough. The voracious energy appetite of the American populace was simply an increasingly losing battle. Even with the advances in renewable energy resources and oil production at its highest in American history, they were slowly being outstripped by demand. It was furthermore worsened that they also had to support their neighbors to the North and South because of the loss of the oil supply in the Middle East. There was a storm approaching in the next few years, where they would no longer be able to stem the tide of energy demands, and then it would get ugly quickly.
So the last few years he had quietly spent a tidy sum of their budget searching for what the eggheads had derisively called a "silver bullet" solution. It was an act balancing on a knife's edge considering the official position of the Department was that the energy sector was doing fine. But he had done it with the tacit approval of both the President and Vice President, he had shown them the numbers, and Durling had always been strange for a politician in that he tended to be proactive instead of reactive.
It had been an effort that had frankly met mixed results. The need for secrecy was its own worst enemy, they could ill-afford the GAO becoming aware of the changes in their budgetary expenditures, lest certain congressmen and -women become aware and use it for their own political agenda. Yet, despite that, nothing that they had been able to do suggested that there was a solution forthcoming, at least not for a decade when technology could possibly mature to the point of feasibility.
So when the PRT had red-flagged Tinkertech, as per their charter, it had been initially another day in the office. Red Flags were an occasional thing for the Department, more of just an annoying relic of governmental dick-measuring that they had ended up retaining. It almost always amounted to nothing. Tinkertech was black-boxed technology, and was something that while they could study and possibly make connections to possibly advance other technology, there were always unexplained elements to it that largely made little change in the overall tech picture.
Except this time.
He had been at dinner with his wife. For their twentieth anniversary he had decided to splurge on her, taking her to an extremely popular restaurant that had a reservation that took upwards of a month to get in. They had just started digging into the main course when his work phone had rang. The withering glare from her had been a thing of legend, but he knew that he would not receive a phone call like this unless something big was going down.
In the end, he was glad he had dared to answer it, despite the fact that he would have to sleep on the couch because he had to leave the dinner. He loved his wife, but she could be such a drama queen at times. Especially when it comes to big events in their lives.
But it had been worth it, especially after the briefing he had received that night and became aware of Taylor Hebert.
Just what kind of world were they fostering when a fifteen-year old trauma victim could offer them a possible silver bullet solution, he had wondered at the time. He wasn't a scientist, but he also wasn't completely bereft of knowledge in the energy sector, either. So when his aides and scientists had told him that the schematics and science was actually legitimate and certainly not Tinkertech, he had known what he had to do.
Though, there was an idle part of him that wondered when he had made the orders at the timing of Hebert's email and her subsequent encounter with the PRT. It did seem awfully damn convenient.
Orders were made, a fact-finding team was assembled, and he got the enjoyment of politely telling that frigid bitch Rebecca Costa-Brown to kindly go fuck herself.
And now the team was back from their interviews with Taylor Hebert, and he had to make a decision.
"You're certain she's the real thing, Matt?"
Matt Freeze, the aide he had personally assigned to shepherd this fact-finding mission, looked up from his tablet, stylus in his hand.
"Ken, if you were there; you would have thought you were dealing with an expert in the field and not some fifteen year old waif of a girl. About three-quarters of the way through she veered off into the feasibility of using excess energy generated by the reactor during down times to produce portable energy cells."
He blinked, not really ready for a segue like that, "What?"
"Ken, you just had to be there. Whatever struck this girl, it has her thinking not just of the now, she's thinking of the future. She's not just satisfied with nuclear reactors. She's talking about energy cells that could provide a household enough energy for years depending on load and demand. And she was hinting that she already had a design for that. And it isn't Tinkertech either."
"Why isn't that in the report," he asked, his mouth suddenly dry.
"Because I know how certain interests would react to something like that."
He nodded, Matt was right. There would be too many lobbies and interests that would react negatively to something like that. Not even the DOE was safe to people like that despite his best efforts. If they caught wind it would likely get ugly, especially for Taylor Hebert. He wasn't going to say there'd be an accident, but he would not deny the probably that there wouldn't be either.
"Fair enough. So there's fire to the smoke. What do you think we should do now?"
"Honestly, Ken? I'd tentatively slap a strategic asset classification on the girl and start planning on how to protect her if this shit works out like I think it will. The moment Russia, China, or other counter-interests catch wind of her you can damn well guarantee they're gonna take a swing."
"Isn't that a little extreme, Matt? Giving that sort of classification is going to garner a lot of questions. Especially considering Hebert's age. I'm going to need a lot more than just a nuclear reactor that by all rights should work according to the eggheads and a hypothetical energy cell system in order to sell this to the President."
"I don't think the reactor and energy cells are the only major thing up her sleeve, Ken."
That certainly caught his attention, "Explain."
"You've seen the same patents I have, Ken. If this wasn't the real world I'd swear this girl was some sort of comic book inventor. But honestly, it's the fact that they've dumped sixty million into the company, and none of it is directed towards nuclear or energy research. It's all molds, forges, foundries, and 3-D printers. I get some of that could be for this Focus thing that she's working on, but the economics of scale are all fucking wrong. You don't need all of this equipment for what is essentially a head-mounted mobile device. Then there's Warehouse 4."
Arching an eyebrow, he took the bait, "And what is Warehouse 4?"
"I'm not exactly sure, but I happened to overheard a couple of employees discussing it. Hebert has some sort of special project going on in there. Whatever it is, it's eating a decent chunk of the material production and the printers are working around the clock. They've said that if Hebert isn't in her lab, she's in that building and anyone involved in the project has been sworn to secrecy."
That was certainly ominous, but it did lend credence to what Matt was saying. He could make a recommendation for a strategic asset designation, but at the end of the day, it was not his call to make. Granting a designation like that was like announcing policy, it meant a significant investment of resources and manpower, and that meant that it had to be done by relevant principals, along with the President.
Still, it wouldn't help to put a finger on the scale.
"Thanks, Matt. Tell Sam I said hi."
"I'll do that," recognizing the dismissal for what it was, "She was worried about me going to Brockton Bay, she's heard some stories about that place."
"I don't think there is anyone who hasn't heard a Brockton Bay story, it has to be something in their water," he joked back, watching as his aide took his leave, his smile fading as the door closed and he leaned back in his chair, releasing a sigh.
He hadn't told Matt, but he had other people looking through the documentation, and they had all agreed that the Hebert design, as it was being called, was the real thing. The only reason he had sent a team was to cover his bases and ensure he had a full picture of the situation. He was not someone who went off half-cocked on something.
But Matt's words had struck a chord. There was something going on with Zero Dawn Technologies. What it was, he couldn't put his finger on it, but he had been in the business long enough to know when he didn't have a complete picture. There were glimpses at the greater tapestry, the patents provided some context, but it wasn't anything that he could point a finger at and identify what it was.
Still, that was beyond his paygrade, there were others more eminently qualified to peel away at the mystery that was Zero Dawn.
Reaching for his phone, he punched in a phone number, leaning back in his chair again and placed his feet on the desk. He knew if there was any witness to it, he would never hear the end of it. Secretaries were not supposed to do something as unprofessional as sully their desk with their dirty shoes, but that was their problem in his estimation.
The click of pick-up caused him to break out in a smile.
"Hey Jack, it's Ken, was wondering if you had the time to catch up over a few drinks? Nah, you don't need to worry, I'd be bringing the good stuff….Seven PM? Sure, I can do that. Make sure your boys know I'm coming, don't need a repeat of '05. Yeah, I'll see you then. "
AEH
Taylor
It was taking a herculean effort keeping my expression as placid and friendly as possible, even as there was a significant part of me that wanted to scream in spite of the exhaustion felt deep in my bones. This was a complete and total waste of time in my opinion, even as I humored my father and tried to keep as pleasant as possible.
The Youth Guard, with the backing of the CPS, thought it was the absolute height of brilliance to return me to the very same atmosphere and setting that had scarred and robbed me of vision. 'Socialization' they called it, as if I didn't get socialized enough in Winslow. I wanted to say that it was a stupid idea to put a traumatized teenage cape back into the setting that caused said trauma, but that would be underselling it.
It was planet-smashingly imbecilic negligence.
But I put a small smile on my face and nodded my head as Principal Skinner and my father talked like they were best friends. It frustrated me that my father believed that this was good for me, so damn worried that I was going to grow up without friends or some such bullshit.
Newsflash, Dad, I didn't have friends in Winslow because one of my friends exposed herself as a psychopathic bitch. But hey, go ahead and memory hole that, see what that will earn you in my graces.
My lips twitched at the sudden urge to frown, but I was able to restrain it. It seemed I was more exhausted than I thought. Instead of dwelling on that, however, I turned my focus back to my Focus. It was honestly an inspired thought to integrate a feedback system to track neural activity and translate them into commands. It was something that went into prosthetics, but with the right application and programming, it could be used to issue subtle commands through the Focus.
It was certainly nice, though, as it allowed me to work without making people realize that I may be ignoring them for more important things..
Like, in this case, I was using the time to review diagnostics and data on the first Burrower. We had just finished trials on it last night, and I was working to ensure that there was nothing wrong that could come back to bite us in the ass.
I had to give it to Jean, she had made an inspired decision in Quentin Tate. The man had been an asset the last three days, allowing me to focus on the more physical aspects of the design. That didn't mean that I didn't doublecheck all of his work, but so far I had been left impressed.
But I also had a suspicion that Quentin Tate was more than he claimed. There was no realistically feasible way for him to be able to recognize the fact that Sobek was an AI. I could understand if he could gain a modicum of understanding of the code in the time I had given him, but certainly not come to the conclusions he did. The only rational explanation that I had was that Quentin Tate was a cape.
Which cape, however, was still an elusive conclusion. I had narrowed it down to three possibilities of capes that could theoretically come to the answer that Quentin did, with two located on the West Coast, and the final one located in New York. Why, though, would Jean have connections to Fibonacci of The Elite? That was the elusive connection I had been unable to make, yet.
But for right now, I would keep my eye on him and take advantage of his skills. It was a puzzle I needed to look into asI hated loose ends. Furthermore, his presence could be a liability going forward, especially if he actually was Fibonacci. There would be those that would not take kindly for me employing a cape with ties to the Elite, and while Fibonacci acted more like a freelance worker, it still put an onus on me both in the fact a cape was messing with my code and just so happened to also be a villain by association.
"Are you listening, Taylor?"
I blinked behind my glasses, turning to look at my father.
"I'm sorry, I was admiring the architecture. I certainly like how welcoming it feels," I lied through my teeth, and I watched as my father completely missed it as he smiled.
"Principal Skinner was just telling me that he sees no problem with you using your Focus, as long as it is done responsibly."
My gaze slipped for a moment to the other man as I had to resist releasing a sigh. It was readily apparent what Skinner's angle was. Word was starting to get out about Zero Dawn, especially after the incident with the PRT and Protectorate. People were starting to ask questions and we were having to answer them in order to control the narrative, which only then created additional interest. It also didn't help that we were keeping quiet on just what we were building and the knowledge that I was an outed cape was drawing further attention.
Suffice to say, Skinner was looking to add another feather to Arcadia's cap. While it was certainly not official, only an idiot would not know that Arcadia hosted the Wards. That, and the presence of members of New Wave, added quite a bit of clout for the school, which was already one of the leading schools in Brockton Bay.
Personally, I would have preferred Immaculata if I did have a choice. But that had been thoroughly nixed by the school's insanely strict uniform policy. Even though my Focus was a medical device, it was not officially recognized by the FDA and therefore did not have any legal protections, which meant that I could not use it on school grounds. The headmistress had been adamant that they could not allow exceptions to this rule. It was honestly a shame, as much as I did not like the Catholic school girl vibe that I got, I knew that facilities and staff were top-notch and quite a few of their alumni moved onto Ivy League educations. They would have more than likely created a customized education plan the moment I started revealing the breadth of my knowledge and skill.
Arcadia was…passable. It has many of the same facilities that Immaculata had, and it did have some notable alumni. It's just that it felt just like Winslow with only some makeup and lipstick added to it. It may look nice, and it may police bullying better, but it still has the same power dynamics and cliques. And frankly, teens by their nature as a roiling cauldron of hormones excited to critical mass levels, were just cruel.
"That's good," I offered, "what about personalized learning plans?"
"We can certainly do that, Miss Hebert. Though, I am not sure why that would be necessary."
Considering your grades in Winslow, might as well have been shouted to the heavens. But I kept the smile on my face, it was nice to be underestimated.
"Let's just say that Winslow was not exactly what you would call a paragon of learning settings, and leave it at that," I replied, tapping the side of my glasses. Watching the minute shiver from Skinner was a decent reward, but watching my father frown was the cherry on top.
"Anyways, it will be fine if you can't. I don't foresee being here next year. I have every intention of testing out and getting my GED early."
"Taylor," her father warned, even as Skinner's eyes narrowed slightly.
"We can certainly explore those options," he offered. Obviously believing that there was a way to retain me in the long run.
I didn't offer a rebuttal, the damage was done. I let Skinner and my father talk some more as we began walking again through the campus. During that time I just let my gaze wander while reviewing the data feed. There still were a few tweaks to be done to the overall code, but it was something that could be done in a few hours. Then it would be a matter of building the second Burrower and then moving on to the Watchers.
Again, I kept my face as placid as possible despite the urge to just storm off and back to the Docks. This was such a waste of time. I had seventeen days before Leviathan was slated to hit and here I was being forced to window shop for a school I could test out if I had the time!
Patience, I reminded myself. I only had to deal with this farce for another month. Once the Leviathan situation had passed I would be taking my GEDs anyways. Father had yet to catch on to the reality that you could do just about anything via a computer nowadays.
It did take some effort to get special accommodations for my Focus, but luckily the proctor was willing to work with me.
All I now had to do was bide my time and I could be done with all of this. I didn't have time to waste when I could be saving lives.
"Ah, here we go," Skinner's sudden change of tone and focus drew me back as he led us towards a pair of girls talking on one of the benches, "One of the things Arcadia is proud of is our students. We have students from all walks of life, including some real bonafide heroes. Danny and Taylor, this is Victoria and Amy Dallon, but you probably know them better as Glory Girl and-"
"Panacea," I stated flatly, cutting the data on the Focus and activating its recording feature. It was still a work in progress that would be finalized with the next model, but in this case, it would provide enough if anything took place. Which, with my careful control slowly slipping, I had a feeling would soon be an issue.
"Er, yes," Skinner replied, taken aback at my tone, but seemed to quickly shake it off, even as Victoria's body posture stiffened and Amy's closed off, "Anyways, Victoria, Amy, this is Taylor Hebert, Miss Hebert is looking to enroll in Arcadia. You may know her from Zero Dawn Technologies."
Seriously, just assuming that capes know one another, I wanted to scoff, but instead I kept my gaze firmly locked on the two girls. Victoria reminded me too much of Emma at first glance, that perfect teen girl who had everything and anything she wanted. It was too evident in the way that she carried and took care of herself. Amy, in comparison, was unremarkable at best, forgettable at worst.
But the fact of the matter remained…
"It's nice to meet you," Victoria replied, extending her hand, though the way her smile was all teeth told me all I needed to know that she was just as on guard as I was. The why, however, eluded me, because it was a reaction that seemed at odds with my conduct so far. Yes, my reaction to Panacea was rather negative, but it wasn't hostile. The fact that Skinner was trying to sell Arcadia to me seemed far from her mind. So what was it that caused her reaction?
I hesitated for a moment, not expecting the offered handshake though, but I did end up shaking it. A part of me hoped that she wouldn't mind the damage on my hands, but the way her eyes narrowed slightly told me she had not missed it.
I then refocused my attention Amy, whose eyes were narrowed at me like she was inspecting a specimen.
"Do I know you?"
A flash of anger surged through me, and before I could stop myself, I smiled an unhappy smile.
"No. You wouldn't," I forced out, keeping the smile on my face, "Insurance saw to that."
"Taylor," my father was aghast, but I didn't fucking care at him being scandalized. He didn't have to live with these scars. All it would have taken Panacea is to get off her ass, say to hell with insurance, and actually do something right in the world. But instead, she allowed herself to be constrained the same fucking rules that allowed this all to happen in the first goddamn place.
"I don't do personal requests for healing," Amy finally said, picking up on my enmity, but in her defense, I was not exactly hiding it.
Counterpoint, I didn't fucking care for what she thought of me. And I certainly didn't want her help anymore!
"You don't need to worry about that, I think I got a pretty good bargain out of it," I snarked back, tapping my Focus, "Maybe I should thank you then," I mused, "After all, I got a pretty useful power, and all it took was not being one of your charity cases."
"Hey, don't talk to my sister that way," Victoria cut in, and again I was reminded of Emma, of back when she actually stood up for me in the past. It made me sick that I could still be reminded of her, I thought I had firmly put her in the past. It seemed I hadn't buried those feelings as deeply as I had believed.
Nonetheless, this was not helping me in any way. All I was doing was hurting myself by acting out like this. As much as I wanted to hold her responsible, it wasn't Panacea's fault that I didn't receive treatment. It was both my father's insurance and the system itself. Panacea didn't create 'parahuman riders' that would cover injuries caused by and healing done by parahumans. It was because my father's union insurance lacked this rider that I was unable to receive treatment from Panacea, having to rely upon the 'tried and true' methods of 'normal' medical procedures.
Taking a deep breath and feeling my anger and frustration coiling back around me like a serpent, I then released it. I fucked up, there was no excusing it. I had let myself get caught up in my personal feelings and acted upon them.
"I'm sorry," I finally offered, even as my father's hand was placed on my shoulder, only reinforcing my mistake. It galled me that I had betrayed a weakness to these people. I couldn't afford it, not when I had too much to achieve. It was a chink in my armor that people would take advantage of if I didn't deal with it, "I should not have said any of that, Amy," deliberately choosing her real name instead of her cape name, to show that my feelings were towards her cape persona, "I thought I had put my past behind me, but it appears that there are still some harsh feelings and I unfairly took it out upon you. Hopefully you can forgive me for my irresponsible behavior."
For a moment, I hoped that she would refuse to accept the extended olive branch. It would certainly make me feel better, because I could then argue that with the hostility going both ways, I should not feel bad for my actions.
Alas, she seemed to be the better person.
"Apology accepted."
"Thank you," I knew I had to take the loss here, "I look forward to seeing you in class, Amy."
It was a calculated concession, but I had to do damage control at the loss of face. The only way I could do that, in this case, was by attempting to make up for all of this by showing that this was an anomalous event. And the only way to do that was to be a good and upstanding student, and the only way I could do that was by attending Arcadia.
It sucked, but I had to admit defeat here. It would only be three months, but it was survivable, even if it would suck. I didn't want to do school, but having the full weight of New Wave's PR, which while less than it used to be, was still top-notch, framing this as some sort of feud would suck even worse.
"Right. Whatever, I guess," she offered with a slight shrug, Victoria moved and turned her away as my father also guided me away.
When I had designed the Ash Nazg, I had added in a few features to help with my ability to multi-task and develop without having to rely on a computer. One of those was a highly sensitive microphone that would sync with the recording functions. The other was a text-to-speech program that could provide immediate subtitles to me for review. To be honest, it was an example of overengineering, because it didn't really need to be done, but I had done it partially to see it could be done at this point, but also because I wanted to be able to dictate as I did work and not have to keep a device on me to record.
It was an exercise in efficiency for future designs.
But I had also forgotten to shut off the recording feature, so as I was walking away, it could not help but hear what Victoria said. It was said low enough that it was between the sisters and should not have been heard by anyone.
Let's get going, Ames. With an attitude like that, it's clear why Scarface didn't deserve your healing.
I froze, the subtitles front and center in my 'vision'. My father's hand slipped off my shoulder as he kept walking as I stared at the words. I could 'hear' the words, only they were in a different voice, and high pitched laughter began reverberating in my head.
"What did you fucking say," I growled, my voice carrying in the air as I slowly turned around. Victoria and Amy both turned as well, even as I saw my father stiffen in my peripheral vision.
"What," that blonde bimbo asked.
I couldn't stop seeing the words even as they faded from my view. It ran over and over in my head, the voice growing louder, even as the smell of chemicals and the sensation of burning and bubbling flesh dominating my senses.
"Let's get going, Ames," I hissed, repeating those words as I could only see the image of her standing there beside Victoria, smirking as everyone around her laughed, "With an attitude like that, it's clear why Scarface didn't deserve your healing."
I knew I wasn't wrong, but my illogical hope that I had imagined things died swiftly as her eyes widened in surprise. Her body language shifted almost immediately from surprise to hostility. Like I didn't have any right to know exactly what she thought of me and that what I had done was some sort of violation of her privacy.
"It's true, isn't it," she returned, a mix of cattiness and anger lacing her tone.
I felt something crack inside me. The laughter reached a crescendo in my ears. My skin and eyes burning as I could only see and hear it over and over again. Both Principal Skinner and my father were trying to say something, obviously to intervene, but I couldn't hear them, all I could see was that damn smirk as that blonde bitch smugly sood there.
I shook off my father's death grip on my arm, and to the shock of myself and probably everyone else, I stalked towards her.
"You're right," I declared quite loudly, and I noticed a few people were in the distance looking at us now, "I really didn't deserve Panacea healing."
The poleaxed expression on her face was something I relished, even as I channeled that self-same anger and frustration before to clad me in an armor and sword to return in spades the abuse that had been dished upon me.
"After all, how could I live with myself receiving treatment from a member of an irrelevant hero group that holds you up as an example for heroes to follow. Are you sure you aren't in the wrong group, Glory Girl, because you have that Bund Deutscher Mädel vibe down pat, complete with the bigotry."
I had worked up a head of steam as I came to a stop before her with enough distance between us that I would have warning if she did react negatively, and I felt a hint of guilty pleasure as I channeled all of my repressed feelings that I had always wished to unleash upon Emma upon a new target. One just as, if not more, deserving, because unlike Emma, Glory Girl had responsibilities and standards that she was supposed to be held to, and she chose not to recognize that by picking on a blind girl.
And the steamroller continued, as I didn't allow her a word in edgewise, because Glory Girl was everything that was wrong with the world. The supposed heroes, who should be at the vanguard at protecting the world and ensuring its continuance, were instead all hung up on their pageantry and petty little problems, all the while the fucking world crumbled and burned around them.
"But stand proud," I continued, my smile growing even wider still, even as my viciousness grew, noting a broad-shouldered blond-haired boy suddenly moving into my vision with alacrity towards us, "You've done your civic duty for the day. Arcadia will not have to be burdened with this Scarface's attendance. I couldn't live with myself if I had to share a room with a cape version of my attacker."
That seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back, as she coiled up, ready to unleash upon me, and I felt an unnatural surge of fear and apprehension as I unconsciously stepped back.
Only it abruptly ended as the blonde boy grabbed her by the shoulder, and her head snapped towards him.
"Vicky," he hissed, and the feelings of fear melted away like chaff in the wind, only to be replaced by the cold realization of just how close I was to violence at the hands of an Alexandira package. Shuddering slightly, I decided that discretion was the better part of valor, especially after my actions. I turned away to see both my father and Skinner looking pale, though through the narrowing of my father's eyes I knew I was not going to hear the end of this. But I just didn't give a fuck..
But a little vicious ember that remained of my confrontation, decided that it could not remain silent and it had to get the final word in edgewise. One that might as well have been a declaration of war, if I had been of sound mind to recognize it.
"And while you delude yourself into believing that you're saving the day punching one thug at a time, Glory Girl. I'll be working to introduce technology and ideas that will help catapult humanity into the next golden age. Maybe then, you can learn a bit of humility through walking in my shoes."
Don't worry guys, this will aaaaaallllll work out.
- Location
- United States
That was the most glorious train wreck to watch.
Dr. Thunder
Philosopher-King of Florida
- Location
- USA
- Pronouns
- He/They
Does Zero Dawn have healing tech? Cause telling New Wave to shove off by obsoleting their personal white mage on top of this seems like a neat trick. And maybe possibly getting the only cape who can do as much to save the world (seriously Amy make better rice or something) as Taylor's robot dinosaurs.
Welp. That went about as terrible as it could
- Location
- Belgium
I'm not sure how to feel about how Taylor is written here, but I figure that's mostly the weird mix between a traumatized 15-year-old and all the experience/confidence she gets from her power.
The getting triggered and being angry because of the situation she's in definitely comes from Taylor, but then she gets really verbose which seems odd unless you factor in power weirdness.
Not sure why I wanted to rant about this or where I'm going with it, love the writing anyway and hope to see more of it
The getting triggered and being angry because of the situation she's in definitely comes from Taylor, but then she gets really verbose which seems odd unless you factor in power weirdness.
Not sure why I wanted to rant about this or where I'm going with it, love the writing anyway and hope to see more of it
- Location
- United States
Almost, neither gave in and punched the other. I fully expected it, either from Vicky reacting to the nazi comment or Taylor having an f-ed up fight/flight response to Glory Girl's aura.
TikiTau
Commander Pangolinski
- Location
- Texas
Hey, on the upside, Triumph will hopefully have some burn cream to send over to help Vicky out after HIS run in with Taylor.
Because being recorded looking disgusted at and insulting someone who's scarred and blind because she was -attacked by someone with caustic cleaning chemicals- and then going 'she doesn't DESERVE healing' while giving her a derogatory nickname and being called out on it is also going to need some of that HZD-grade Burn Cream.
Also, it does make sense Taylor snapped, really.
She's exhausted, she's tired, she doesn't want to be here ANYWAYS, she got poked in two of her major trauma buttons (All her health issues could have been easily solved by Panacea and Pretty Popular Girl sneering at her) related to her injury and (...possible? It's been noted that if she's a Parahuman, she's a -really- weird one...) Trigger Event and current issues, she apologized...
and then the Pretty Popular Girl said she deserved what happened to her, because Vicky's shooting her mouth off without context again...assuming she isn't going from 'bad' context and Kid Win complaining about what a terrible Tinker Person she is and how she's a Bad Person, etc.
Honestly seems to be 50-50 between what I'm guessing is 'she heard the other Wards badmouthing her and decided she's a Villain' (basically how Kid Win got pre-existing dislike of Taylor in his head thanks to Piggot, just secondhand) and 'ewww, ugly girl who insulted and was hostile to my sister, I don't like her'.
Carol Dallon's a reasonable individual who reacts with grace to threats to PR and the like from the fanon I've read, right? She's just as level-headed as Vicky, right?
Because being recorded looking disgusted at and insulting someone who's scarred and blind because she was -attacked by someone with caustic cleaning chemicals- and then going 'she doesn't DESERVE healing' while giving her a derogatory nickname and being called out on it is also going to need some of that HZD-grade Burn Cream.
Also, it does make sense Taylor snapped, really.
She's exhausted, she's tired, she doesn't want to be here ANYWAYS, she got poked in two of her major trauma buttons (All her health issues could have been easily solved by Panacea and Pretty Popular Girl sneering at her) related to her injury and (...possible? It's been noted that if she's a Parahuman, she's a -really- weird one...) Trigger Event and current issues, she apologized...
and then the Pretty Popular Girl said she deserved what happened to her, because Vicky's shooting her mouth off without context again...assuming she isn't going from 'bad' context and Kid Win complaining about what a terrible Tinker Person she is and how she's a Bad Person, etc.
Honestly seems to be 50-50 between what I'm guessing is 'she heard the other Wards badmouthing her and decided she's a Villain' (basically how Kid Win got pre-existing dislike of Taylor in his head thanks to Piggot, just secondhand) and 'ewww, ugly girl who insulted and was hostile to my sister, I don't like her'.
Eh, what's the worst that could happen? It'll be fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine.
Carol Dallon's a reasonable individual who reacts with grace to threats to PR and the like from the fanon I've read, right? She's just as level-headed as Vicky, right?
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- Location
- alphen aan den rijn
wow taylor why don`t you just say how you really feel about things...
oh wait..
oh wait..
YuffieK
(Verified Ninja Princess)
I feel this requires the "Oh wait, you're serious, let me laugh even harder." GIF