23 Renovation
It took a while to get the story out of Garment, or at least as much as could be conveyed through a series of gestures and the occasional auto-complete assisted typing session. Apparently it played out like your typical cape encounter. Flechette had been on patrol along with Shadow Stalker and they'd run into Garment when she'd been doing her rescues. I couldn't exactly get a play by play, but there was the sense that things went better with Flechette than with Shadow Stalker.
My passenger's reaction to Flechette was interesting. She was important, that much was clear, and also very seriously powerful. Like with Taylor I couldn't really see where that sense of overwhelming power was coming from, but that just seemed to amuse my passenger. Of course, he still seemed to feel that Tattletale was a massively significant thinker and she hadn't exactly impressed with more than pulling obscure details out of the air.
It was similar to what he felt about Panacea, only there was no ticking clock or other serious concern. Amy Dallon had issues, I understood that now more than ever. There was a real sense that if they weren't dealt with there would be dire consequences. With Flechette there was significance, but not the dread and worry. She would apparently be a major player, but not one I needed to panic over.
As Garment explained she pulled up some tweets concerning the new Ward. There were a few rare shots of her in action from tonight and a few more from her announcement presentation with Weld this afternoon. The odd piece of Flechette themed media from New York had started cropping up and circulating, including a somewhat hilarious energy drink commercial. However the top trending image for her was taken from a cell phone and was actually quite sweet.
Someone caught a picture of Flechette and Clockblocker from before she had left on her patrol. You couldn't tell much from Clockblocker's full face mask, but from his concerned stance and the reassuring look from Flechette as she put a hand on his shoulder and looked into his eyes it came across as a very candid and tender moment. Twitter certainly seemed to think so, judging by the mass of comments and retweets. Apparently the public would latch onto anything they could when it came to cape relationships. God, I hope I never have to deal with that kind of nonsense.
The phone number she had given Garment had been some kind of contact offer or invitation to check in later. Apparently either she or Shadow Stalker had been the one to suggest that Garment's dress would be useful as evidence. That was probably also why Doug mentioned them dropping by the gym to check on things. It was effectively an invitation into the city's cape community, even though it would almost certainly come with an invitation to join the protectorate.
"Garment, do you actually want to join the Protectorate? Keep doing hero work?" She made a dismissive gesture. I was more relieved than I should have been. And maybe I was a little envious over the fact that her debut had gone so much more smoothly than mine had.
"They're going to want that dress. You'll have to contact them to set it up. I can help you with that, or Survey can..." She made a gesture towards me and the laptop flickered slightly. Ok then.
"Right, well I guess you'll need something from the storage locker, or a new dress..." I hadn't finished the sentence before Garment eagerly presented me with a design sketch. All I could say was if she was trying to impress the city's heroes this would certainly do the trick. Actually, with that level of design work on it... "Do you want me to help with this?"
There it was. Somehow Garment knew about the design perks I had picked up, like she knew about all my perks, and had accounted for that in the planning of her proposed dress. This was one of those gowns that would have eaten years of life from a team of seamstresses and driven them half blind in the process. With us working together we could knock it out in less than fifteen minutes.
"Of course." There was an excited little hop from Garment. "But later? There's a lot I need to do right now." She made a placating gesture and indicated towards the workshop.
Right, time to get started. Before I dove into the expansions that I'd received I took a moment to try to make some order in the entryway. That primarily involved packing away the scattered equipment I had dug through is my rush to make it to the storage facility or just dumped here when I stripped off my costume. I slipped my omni-tool back on and pulled up the interface. First thing, I set an update between my computer core and the copy of Survey running on Garment's laptop. After that I focused on packing away reagent pouches and the scattered gear from my Class: Engineer power.
Before I left on the rescue mission that stuff was a moderately useful pile of curiosities as well as the only ready-to-use gear I had on hand. Now it was my ticket to an entire universe of power. Workaholic would let me multiply any resource, no matter how rare or exotic. There was a pittance of element zero in this gear, but all that mattered was it was actually there. A single deconstruction and rebuild would give me the basis for all kinds of technologies that utilized the mass effect field that could be generated by that material. A huge array of options I had completely dismissed are suddenly open to me.
That's definitely going to be one of the priority projects. Workaholic's multiplications functioned exponentially, so once I isolate a sample it won't take long to get a large enough amount for major technology, maybe even something as complicated as an FTL core. The idea of building a device that complicated on my own is a staggering prospect, not to mention the potential Endbringer problems it could bring down on my head. So while with a lot of work I might be capable of it, there would be no space travel until that particular looming problem had been dealt with.
I had missed it when I dropped off my cape gear, but there was a new locker added to the entryway. I checked inside and found a stamp. The personalized stamp that came with Fingers of the North Star to let me mark my work. Stamp was a bit of an understatement. It was a device of adjustable size that could permanently mark any creation with a symbol unique to me.
The symbol on the stamp... well it was like a tiny spiral galaxy with the arms looped far out and back on themselves to create a kind of incomplete infinity symbol. So kind of like someone took the center of a sideways s and twisted it into a swirl.
I have no idea how it was chosen, but I guess it kind of worked as a personal emblem. It had a cosmic feel to it while embracing the 'unlimited' meaning of my cape name. I hadn't really thought about having an emblem as a cape, but I hadn't really thought about my cape identity much beyond settling on a name, and that had been to avoid the PRT slapping something stupid or derogatory on me. Even my costume had been all thanks to Garment taking iterative design steps with what I'd pulled together from thrift stores.
Hey, Garment and I both had cape logos now. Okay, hers was more of a fashion label and no one had seen mine yet, but they still existed. That was something, and actually felt pretty significant. I don't think most capes were able to nail down a simple symbol to represent them, so it gave a sense that I was on top of this thing rather than making it up as I went along.
Which I basically had been. Boy, that was a harrowing thought.
After that was taken care of only the tinker tech I'd salvaged from Uber and Leet and Bakuda's bombs was left. I needed to get that stuff into the Laboratorium for analysis, but first I had to figure out exactly what had happened to my workshop. I took a breath and pulled open the door on the left side of the entryway.
When I first got my workshop this opened to a rather utilitarian metal shop that would have been a poor showing even for a high school industrial arts program. After I got my Alchemist's Laboratory it changed to a brief hallway linking the entryway to the two facilities. At this moment the view before me was almost unrecognizable.
I would have been completely shocked at the size of the place if not for having the built-like-a-cathedral Laboratorium as a reference. I had thought that the Alchemist's Laboratory was a big increase in workspace, but it had nothing on this.
This workshop upgrade was linked to my Grease Monkey power in the same way a few of my other powers were connected. Like Master Builder and Science! it shared technical aspects. Specifically it allowed me to build or repair anything that was possible with Grease Monkey. Until looking at it I hadn't realized just how significant that was.
Grease Monkey may have been more than slightly overshadowed by the addition of the knowledge of a civilization of alien robots, but that didn't change the fact that it could easily be described as 'all the cyberpunk'. It might not be the most advanced work I was capable of, but it was still incredibly comprehensive. Every field of industry was represented, and at every stage of the supply and production chain.
Can you even imagine the equipment necessary to construct everything a civilization could produce? I didn't have to, seeing as I now had an extra dimensional complex that had been stuffed to the gills with it. It was staggering and even Garment seemed taken aback, though that might have been due to the other element of this upgrade.
It was a complete fucking mess.
I mean, it wasn't as bad as it could have been, but previously the workshop had been filled with immaculately designed pieces and carefully arranged for maximum efficiency. I may have been upgraded to what could be described as a multi-level industrial campus, but any sense of order or elegance had been completely lost. I could only get a vague idea of what was out there since even the vertical design was a mess. Some floors were solid, but with openings for large pieces of machinery, some were mezzanine levels, some were collections of catwalks, and some were a combination. My guess was it was at least five stories tall, and oversized stories at that. The best I could say about the layout was that there was some vague clustering by industry type.
It was just there were a LOT of industries represented. My power had apparently decided to just throw the facilities for microprocessor fabrication, petrochemical refinement, ballistics engineering, pharmaceutical manufacturing, automotive assembly, and dozens of other options to me at the same time. The place was stretched over multiple floors strictly out of necessity for the scale of some of the manufacturing. There was even a hanger sized area that could even manage anything from airliners to orbital shuttles to attack satellites.
Not that I had any idea how I was going to get that kind of stuff out through a five meter wide entryway.
Everything had a certain style to its design. I wouldn't exactly call it retro futuristic, but there was a 'classic cyberpunk' feel to things. That meant it looked like what 1985 thought 2035 would look like. So I had been granted a neo-industrial 'workshop' that was so comprehensive it was hard to fully contemplate.
There was so much stuff here that it was honestly difficult to navigate. I seriously needed one of those mall-maps with the 'you are here' sticker on them. Out of desperation I fell back on my Built to Last power and started directing myself by the feel of what I had built previously.
I found my nanite containment tank and fabricator, now nestled in a nano machinery lab. The kinds of nanomachines that Grease Monkey specialized in were varied. Some had mundane industrial applications, some were medical, though less advanced than my own nanites, and some were straight up war crimes. 'Not gray goo' was about the best thing I could say about that stuff, though I doubt anyone caught in a combat application would be grateful.
One interesting thing was how my metal shop had integrated into the rest of the equipment. Like before, the workshop supported its own power and water needs, but this upgrade had no crafting materials available. With some hunting I was able to find the comparatively basic equipment of the metal shop and some of the machines I had upgraded scattered through more appropriate sections. The regenerating stores of metal were still present, though compared to the scale of the place it was a pittance. The really fascinating aspect was what had happened to the fiat backing.
Things I made only self-repaired if they were constructed in my metal workshop. That was a special aspect of the power. It was rather unusual, but as the metal shop had been integrated into the surrounding upgrade the area of fiat backing went with it, but not completely. I could tell if something would be in a space to receive that power. It was really incredible. In the face of all the powers I couldn't turn off it was my workshop restoration effect that I could properly manage. There were a few situations where self-repair would be a disadvantage, so it was good to at least have the option to remove that feature.
None of this was my top level technology, but there was a huge difference between being able to produce space opera level equipment in theory and being able to churn out decently advanced items immediately. I would still want to upgrade key components before I got too deep into a project, but just having this infrastructure was a huge blessing.
Just then I felt the Celestial forge make a connection to the Size constellation. The power was called They're Like Legoes, Right?, but at this point I was well past concern for what the Celestial Forge decided to name its abilities. If it wanted to specifically reference an interconnected block toy line then more power to it.
As a reference to the properties of the power 'Lego' was rather appropriate. This power gave the ability to create beyond perfect modular technology. Perfect modular technology would have parts with no compatibility issues, able to switch out and replace on a whim with no loss in functionality or even able to create combinations for new applications on the fly. But even perfect modular technology would still have the inherent problem where the item in question would be weaker than something constructed as a solid piece.
This power addressed that completely. With the ability at work a support beam assembled out of linked two foot sections could be just as strong as one cast in a solid piece. Ironically, the main issue the expanded workshop had addressed was the construction of larger items, and that was irrelevant with this new power. I could build a battleship in chunks small enough to carry and end up with a result as effective as if it had been laid down at a shipyard.
The power took a bit of work to apply, but nothing beyond my abilities. Its base application was mostly focused on aerospace technology, probably because of its link to my Aerospace Engineering Makes Things Go Fast power. The principles it gave me could be applied to any other field of technology easily enough, and opened a huge number of possibilities.
As I considered what I could do with my new power I finally found where my Alchemist's Laboratory had been relocated. It had really just been a matter of following the pipes. That was because the chemical engineering facilities that had been added to the Laboratory by my Grease Monkey power were now linked with every industrial chemical facility in the workshop. A network of conduits snaked out from the more advanced machinery that was nestled in the alchemy lab adjacent to dried herbs and arcane circles.
The Alchemist's Laboratory hadn't changed as much as the rest of the workshop, but there were still some significant additions. The lab upgraded itself based on my level of alchemy knowledge and thus had added extensions to account for my Natural Alchemy power. There was a small collection of plants and herbs growing under artificial lighting to provide basic components for natural energy infused alchemy. A recessed area contained samples of mushrooms and other fungus and a few tanks had aquatic plants. The facilities had shifted slightly to account for that particular branch of potion making and the principles it incorporated.
I had assumed that would be the only change, but I was greeted with another surprising addition. Unnatural Skill:Smith covered more than just forging of weapons. It included some very advanced principles of metallurgy, including the production of some actual magical metals. Said production was as difficult as it sounded since I didn't exactly have an active volcano or water from the River Lethe handy. I might be able to work around requirements or transmute equivalent reagents, but it was unlikely I'd be getting celestial bronze any time soon.
Currently the only magical metal I could reliably create would be bone steel, and that wasn't exactly a pleasant manufacturing process. At least the components could be obtained in the real world rather than needing to be formed through thaumaturgy. There was a huge amount of potential in that power and if I wanted to take advantage of it I needed material to work with. It might be theoretically possible to build size changing items, inherently magical weapons, or self-powered automatons without magic metals, but I did not have nearly the skill or experience for a task like that. Compared to what would be necessary to produce cybertonium, making bone steel would be a cake walk.
Cybertonium was actually a good deal more attainable than it used to be. With the expanded metallurgical knowledge and upgraded alchemy lab I had a real chance of pulling it off with a few days of trial and error. Once I figured out the process there would still be two or three dozen steps in the production, but that was a big improvement from before. I might actually get a chance to start using the technology that Master Builder provided, rather than the theoretical principles.
On the subject of applying those theoretical principles, I needed to find my neural interface and check on my A.I.s development. Garment was wandering around the lab, apparently a little miffed at how the reorder had messed up the flow of her dyeing equipment. I let her take some time to shuffle things and used the opportunity to start another potion brewing.
My duplication potion was probably the most useful weapon in my arsenal. It had monumental applications both in combat and my own production work. On top of the advantages in battle and logistics the duplication of reagents for producing call beads effectively granted an infinite power source. Actually having to deal with the copies was a bit weird, but I could manage for the benefits it provided. The brewing process would take about an hour, but with the quality of the facilities in the lab I could set things up and leave them to run their course.
It turned out potion brewing was another thing that triggered Workaholic. I had the choice of five potions or a potion with twenty five times the volume. The higher volume potion was something of a weird outlier. It didn't have a stronger effect, it just had a lot more liquid to drink. That kind of effect would be seriously useful in most kinds of alchemical production, but not when dealing with potions that had discrete effects. I set it for five copies and left it to brew.
Masterwork Crafter was also triggering with this production. That far reaching power applied whenever I made a 'thing', and potions counted. This was a substantial increase in quality, but I wasn't sure how much that would impact the duration. I was already producing excellent potions and there was a hard limit to how long the effect could sustain itself. I'd have to see how well the results manifested, but I was probably close to some kind of practical maximum.
With that taken care of I finally pried Garment away from her dyeing station and went looking for my neural interface. The imposing chair of steel and wires was in the software development section, because of course I had one of those as well. It wouldn't be 'everything in cyberpunk' without a computer warfare division. Alright, it could be used for developing civilian software as well, but there was a definite militaristic bent to all this equipment.
It was also the only portion of the expanded workshop with a decent computer system. I hadn't exactly had the previous workshop perfectly networked, but there was absolutely no interconnection between the facilities that had been added. Everything had to be operated locally, independently monitored, and had no automation or reporting systems. I didn't even get an inventory of what was out there, and hadn't been able to look over more than half of it. This place needed a dedicated computer system, and checking on my A.I.s was a big part of that.
I nodded to Garment and sank into the interface chair. As the system powered up I felt the workshop fall away being replaced by my awareness spreading through the computer system. It was a unique experience. Hybridizing the neural interface and the computer core effectively let the person using it function as if the computer was part of their own mind and body. The sensation should have been discordant to the extreme, but I had never had a problem with it. Thinking with logic gates rather than neurons just seemed normal. I hadn't picked up on it before, but the reason for the ease of use was readily apparent to me now.
Since the last time I had interfaced with the system I had picked up two additional powers in support of Master Builder. That expanded the inhuman mentality of Master Builder to a level of innate understanding. The mechanical thought patterns from the personal experience with the robot civilization occasionally crept through in my day to day life. There they felt jarring. Here they felt natural.
I was the computer, and I knew perfectly well how to function in this state. My mind had all the experience necessary to function as an electronic consciousness divorced from the limitations of a human form. When I was here all those dysphoric thought patterns I struggled to deal with were suddenly normal. No, more than normal. They were helpful. They let me function better than I could have possibly otherwise. When connected to this system I was able to operate on the same level as an artificial intelligence without needing the development time.
That was frightening in its own right, particularly with the insight it gave to the functions of my own mind. The optimization programs I'd been using for Survey and Fleet seemed clear and enticing. They could very well be applied to myself. Normally that would be a daunting prospect, but my insight into memory principles would allow it to work smoothly. It would be so very easy to make a few small changes, just enough to think better, stay on task, remove doubts.
...but that wouldn't be the end of it. That was the nightmare of the potential tinker powers from my trigger, only applied via electronics rather than neurochemistry. Change your mind. I shuddered through my electronic consciousness. No thanks. I wasn't going to risk that. Development moved forward and built on what came before, both the good and the bad. Start tearing down your past and there's no telling where you'd want to stop. If you'd even want to stop.
With significant effort I put that thought out of my mind and focused on the partition where Fleet and Survey's optimization was running. As expected, they had fully expanded to the boundaries set for them. Currently both programs were improving code efficiency, removing bloat, and practicing refinement. This was being done in parallel with an in depth analysis of the night's events.
The difference between their processes was fascinating to see. Fleet had been optimizing longer, but initially got caught in a feedback loop and had to be broken out of it. It had been my first attempt at developing a program and as such was compiled with the best computer knowledge a cyberpunk society could offer. Since then upgrades and refinements had been made to the process based on new understanding of programming, but it was a fundamentally different starting point than Survey, who had been conceived upon the basis of Master Builder's frankly insane knowledge of computer science.
The result was a distinct divergence in approach and mentality between the A.I.s beyond even what their distinct function would account for. I watched a recreation of the storage facility provided from the A.I.s' records and could clearly see how each program was approaching the situation.
Survey was focused almost entirely on the details of the environment, the factors in play, number of weapons, relative threat of the participants, and even some rudimentary analysis of the mentality of the key players. That was a new factor, owing almost exclusively to the integration of experience from working with Garment. There was some difficulty integrating the truncated copy into an A.I. already running at full parameters, but the effort was being made and it was yielding results. I could even see some results being presented in short sentences rather than as masses of data.
By contrast Fleet was entirely focused on action within the situation. Data was only important insofar as it influenced the next move. As Survey constructed theoretical arrangements of forces based on potential actions of the players involved Fleet would run through them like a gauntlet. There was a reliance on Survey for data on how some proposed actions would resolve themselves, but when it came down to it Fleet was a driving A.I. and wanted to drive. It came across as more single minded, but also more focused and determined than Survey.
I extended greetings to both A.I.s and received their acknowledgement in reply. Fleet sent a standard receipt for the message while Survey made an attempt at English. 'Greetings. Good for to be here.'
I returned the sentiment and then turned my attention to the optimization partition. I had decided to follow my usual system to avoid alerting precogs by tying the A.I. advancements to my Celestial Forge powers. I tallied the significant number of abilities I'd received since the last update and scheduled a staggered reduction of limits based on that count. Sending them all at once could encourage inefficient development and a key portion of the stratagem was the incremental increase based on what I dearly hoped were undetectable triggers.
Interestingly, I was able to see the benefit of my Don't Need A Team power on this task, effectively attending to multiple aspects of the code simultaneously. The task was too abstract and removed from mechanics for Most Holy Order of the Socket Wrench to provide a stacking benefit, but being able to code like ten people at once on top of the advantages of a direct neural connection was still significant.
The first expansion in parameters settled in and I was able to watch the code of each A.I. slowly begin to expand to its new processing and memory boundaries. The rest of the expansions would trigger at regular intervals until I performed the next checkup. The A.I.s weren't at anywhere near a human level of cognition, but there was a sense of potential to be explored that could be looked at as excitement. I was proud of that. This was something I had committed to doing right, and it was reassuring to see the programs developing stably.
Just as I finished confirming the parameters the Celestial Forge missed a connection with the Knowledge constellation. Fleet and Survey were developing at a good pace and I had an important task for Survey to undertake. Specifically I badly needed Survey to survey the workshop.
I emerged to the physical world to find Garment vanished. Luckily she had decided to counter the labyrinthine nature of the new workshop by doing the Theseus-Ariadne thing. There was a trail of red thread leading from the neural interface to a portion of the workshop we hadn't explored yet. I followed it past equipment and machinery to find what had grabbed Garment's attention.
The thing about comprehensive manufacturing is if it covers everything a society can produce then ultimately it's going to surprise you. For instance, given the cyberpunk nature of most of the workshop with its materials labs, cloning vats, and computer bays it hadn't occurred to me that textile manufacture is still a pretty significant thing.
Garment had found the wing of the workshop that held every piece of equipment relating to cloth or clothing production. From the way she was behaving when I found her it was clear I had effectively lost ownership over this section of the workshop and it wouldn't be worth the effort to contest the claim. Garment was fawning over a collection of industrial assembly machines worthy of a textile factory. Given how quickly she could work I'm not sure how much of a step up this actually was, but she was certainly excited about it and eager to show me all of her new treasures.
With a closer inspection there was clearly some advantage to be had here. As far as I could tell Garment's manufacture worked to peak human ability. Most industrial sewing and weaving had been a step down in quality to allow the kind of mass production that took clothing from being a major part of a family's household budget to the current level where ninety percent of clothing items could be considered basically disposable. Because of that Garment's hand work was significantly better than modern equivalents.
That is modern equivalents made with modern technology. That didn't apply when you were talking about the series of micro fabricators, custom textiles, and nanomaterials that the upgraded workshop gave her access to. Incredibly this was the kind of equipment that could actually let Garment take her clothing design to the next level.
"That's great Garment." She made a frantic series of gestures and caresses a nano-extruder apparatue. "Uh, I've got more work to do, so are you..." She made a dismissive gesture and turned back to an assembly for designing custom synthetic polymers. Normally there would be a lack of feedstock, but Garment's ability to summon supplies seemed to have completely sidestepped that problem. It seemed like she'd be alright here for a while. In fact, from the way she was acting I doubted I'd be able to get her out anytime soon.
I pulled up my omni-tool and summoned another swarm of drones before calling up Survey's interface. A set of words appeared on the screen.
'Greetings. Request?'
The plain language responses still took some getting used to, but I appreciated both the effort it required and the development it signified. I entered a series of commands to map the expanded workshop and inventory the new equipment. There was a flicker and a response appeared on the screen. 'Acknowledged'.
I can't believe I had to deploy A.I. guided drones to figure out the contents of my own workshop. I know powers can work on a ridiculous scale, but this is just insane. I had two rooms before I left and now the place is at a point where just covering the distance is a chore. I need some of those moving sidewalks they have on airports, or at least a few escalators. It was too late in the evening to have to deal with a crafting expansion the size of a large mall.
But no matter how late it is, there's still work to do. I had a pile of tinker tech that needs analysis, and that drove me to trudge back through my cavernous workshop towards my mystifyingly less cavernous Laboratorium.
On three separate occasions I had triggered freak outs by bringing the wrong thing into my analysis lab. Even with the small amount of insight I got through my Armourer database the workings of the cyberskulls was something of a mystery. As such I was prepared for the worst when I walked into the cathedral like space carrying Uber's forcefield, Leet's katana, the camera drone, and a case of Bakuda's cranial bombs.
Once again my Laboratorium proved it could completely surprise me. You know the reaction you get from a bunch of little kids when they cram them all into a room and then someone walks in with a sack of toys dressed as Santa? That was what I experienced when I entered the technology analysis lab with my spoils from the night's combat. Every single skull in the place popped up with a gleam in their optics and a sense of childish excitement in the thrashing of their cables.
There was a chorus of electronic trills and happy little bobbing skulls. Preliminary scans of the tech I was carrying started playing themselves across displays as I was guided reverently towards the command throne. Incenses sticks were replaced and offerings of oils and small machine parts were placed in front of various icons. As I handed over the items for analysis the excitement reached a crescendo.
Then the music started.
It was more a hymn than any kind of typical music, but apparently this bounty was deemed deserving of songs of thanks. I wasn't as good with the spoken form of the Laboratorium's weird gothic language as I was with its written equivalent, but I was able to catch the odd phrase about thanks, glory, and appreciation for bounty, gratitude for blessing, and painful fiery death to heretics.
I really hope that last one was a mistranslation.
I moved through the massive room towards the command throne flanked by happily working skulls coordinating their analysis work to the sound of the hymns playing in the background. It was like being on an exceptionally morbid version of the Small World ride at DisneyLand, only somehow slightly less creepy. As I was guided into the seat complete with the traditional failed connection to spinal data jacks the first of the analysis steps completed, sending a chorus of "AVE IMPERATOR!" echoing through the room.
I flinched under the volume of the cry, then checked the results provided by the system. One of the cranial bombs had its explosive yield identified. The device worked by a kind of hyper compressed fluid that would vaporize into a high temperature cloud when triggered. The ensuing vapor was designed to hold heat frighteningly well and would probably set anything it touched on fire if not for the fact that it completely displaced oxygen. Essentially it cooked whatever it touched, probably leaving behind a blackened mess.
It was a disturbing reminder of what I was dealing with and what I still needed to counter. There wasn't enough information to recreate the device, much less apply the principles to other technology. It would need further analysis and probably some measure of personal study before...
"AVE IMPERATOR!"
The cry went out again as another basic component of a cranial bomb was deciphered, this time the anti-tamper device that I had bypassed. I barely had time to start reviewing the readout before a third "AVE IMPERATOR!" echoed around the room, briefly drowning out the hymn and its verse about the reassuring comfort of golden radiance that scours the flesh from vile witches.
I think I just stumbled across the Laboratorium's version of the Windows alert sound. I would have looked into finding some way of changing it, but every time the cry went out the skulls did this little hop of joy. A lot of them were swaying to the sound of the hymn and I had the sense this was the technological equivalent of a work song. Even after dozens of refrains and the clear evidence that the hymn was playing on a loop I didn't have the heart to interrupt them.
The cacophony may have helped the skull's productivity and mood, but I couldn't say the same for myself. Between how fast the data was building up and the constant refrains of "AVE IMPERATOR!" with every discovery it was taking everything I had to keep up with the reports. The skulls could handle the bulk of the analysis, but needed an occasional decision on prioritization or resources or approved methods. I was holding off on any destructive testing for now, which limited the information I could gather but preserved my very finite supply of technology.
In the midst of everything there was a significant development in the form of a connection to the Resources and Durability constellation of the Celestial Forge. The power was called Reliable Invention. It made my inventions reliable. Okay, I might be getting a bit glib about the names of the powers. Essentially it ensured that there would be no malfunctions with anything I built. The only way for one of my creations to break down was improper use or intentional damage. Regular use would never cause any wear or deterioration.
That was good enough on its own, but like Built to Last there was a hidden benefit to this power. Built to Last protected my creations from rust and time. That let me use materials that were ideal in every aspect except corrosion resistance. Similarly Reliable Invention removed the possibility of damage during normal use. I could design something out of parts that would normally wear out in minutes and the device would keep functioning for ages. It wouldn't help against intentional damage or misuse, but it opened a significant amount of potential.
I was contemplating the possibilities while listening to the constant refrains of alerts when the doors opened and Garment marched in. She didn't look upset, but there was a concerned pattern to her steps. She was also carrying her laptop which received greeting from various skulls as it passed, likely due to that wax seal and strip of parchment still attached from its last visit. There was a return flicker from the laptop in response, so apparently some kind of comradery had built up between the electronically inclined residents of my workshop.
The skulls seemed a little disappointed when I left the command throne to check on her, but another cry of "AVE IMPERATOR!" got them right back on task. Garment quickly indicated to the screen of her laptop, showing a now complete 3d map of the workshop.
"Garment, that's great. Did Survey..."
She cut off my question and gestured to an area of the map that seemed like it looped around behind where the door would be. Actually, with the variable placement of the portal cardinal directions didn't really work. It was really more left, right, in, and out. The workshop was 'left' and extended mostly 'in' while the Laboratorium was 'right'. There were a couple of rooms that were towards the 'out' direction, and Garment clearly felt they needed attention.
I set the Laboratorium to autonomous analysis, pulled up my own copy of the map, and followed Garment. Survey had done a good job with the broad strokes of the mapping, but had encountered a significant issue. I had never seen an A.I. experience this level of frustration, but it seemed running into an effectively unsolvable problem could cause it. Survey was an information A.I. that didn't know what it was looking at.
The physical structure of the workshop had been mapped. Actually, given its size referring to it as a 'workshop' felt like underselling it. What else could I call it? Manufactorium? Forge dimension? Crafting Mall? Anyway, the layout hadn't been the cause of the problem, the contents had been.
Simply put Survey had no idea what most of the machinery in this place was, or what it did. The A.I.'s normal method of network research and analysis was a dry well considering this technology didn't exist yet. There were a few attempts at identification, but when those repeatedly proved to be inaccurate the program had defaulted to listing detailed and somehow slightly sarcastic descriptions of the machinery instead. Yes, I suppose a polymer fixation integration chamber did look a bit like an elephant having a stroke, but that wasn't a useful categorization method.
At some point Survey had also shifted from short sentences to attempting to convey reactions through images. I blame over exposure to Twitter for that particular development, though Survey seemed to have effectively found a bottomless well of 'girl looking exasperated' photos to help express frustration.
As I followed Garment I worked to correct and clarify as much data as I could. Just having proper names and data for classification seemed to make a huge difference in bringing the A.I. back to task. By the time we were approaching our destination the photos used for reactions had shifted to a more satisfied tone and an index was being compiled of equipment layouts.
It was lucky that I have taken care of that issue before we arrived because Garment had brought me into one of the more disturbing areas of my workshop. This was the cybernetics lab. That meant surgery beds, medical supplies, and for the first time actual prepared components.
It seemed the clinic from my Cyber-doctor Equipment had effectively merged with the relevant section of the workshop. There was a slight tone shift as the room transitioned from corporate polish to a decidedly grittier feel. Interestingly the grittier technology was actually more advanced. The rest of the workshop was sporting what I would call peak-cyberpunk, while this section was more post-cyberpunk. Nothing here was new or polished, but it was a lot more refined and durable. I was looking at the difference between innovative and mature technologies, kind of a fascinating contrast.
I was also looking at a complete cybernetics facility. This was one aspect of upgrading my equipment that I wasn't sure about. On one hand I could easily use cybernetics to greatly increase my personal abilities. With my supporting powers and the repair feature of my workshop I would never need to worry about parts wearing out or being rendered inoperable.
On the other hand this was a major step, and had huge implications. My nanites wouldn't be able to repair cybernetics like they could my normal body. The technology would be invasive in the extreme and while I might be able to manage the surgery, performing it on myself was another matter. It was possible, and had serious advantages, but I just wasn't ready for something that drastic just yet.
I took a few seconds to check the rest of the contents of the cybernetic clinic. There were some drugs in stock, a few crudely bound text books, one of the few computers present outside the software development section, and a 3d fabricator at least as good as anything in the rest of my workshop.
There was also a gigantic spiked hammer with a rocket engine attached to it.
I knew I had a rocket hammer. I was aware of its addition as soon as my power granted it to me. I understood the concept and had the basic martial arts skill to use it.
I just didn't expect it to be so awesome.
I mean, it should have been irrelevant. I had been using HF omni-blades and earthquake weapons tonight. I'd churned out technically superior weapons on a whim. It was just, this was a hammer with a rocket on it. It was difficult to use while being simultaneously worse than any other melee weapon I'd created, possibly only outshining the monomolecular pen knife I'd made as a prototype. Despite all that the idea of swinging around a rocket assisted spike of steel had a visceral appeal that I just couldn't deny.
I wanted to use it. I mean, the amount of work necessary to turn it into something even approaching an effective weapon compared to my other options would be titanic, but my other options weren't rocket hammers. Maybe this was all those smithing powers I'd gotten coming to the forefront. Despite all the work I'd done I hadn't been able to properly forge anything. Maybe I had some kind of pent up hammering instinct. Or maybe there was just a base level appeal to a weapon this ridiculously entertaining.
Garment was tapping one shoe impatiently by the door, drawing me away from the weapon that was either stupidly awesome or awesomely stupid. I pushed through the last of the clinic and finally reached the rooms Garment wanted to show me.
It was my new apartment. Apartments. In the excitement I'd almost forgotten about this addition. Both the expanded workshop and cyber-clinic came with simple apartments included. The door from the cybernetics section led to a short hallway linking both single room dwellings.
The cyber-clinic apartment was the first along the hallway. It consisted of a cramped room stuffed with the bare necessities of a modest existence. The walls were rough plaster and most of the furnishings looked ancient and repurposed from other items. There was rust growing on all exposed metal, including the meager kitchen and metal basin of a sink. A small curtained off area held what passed for a bathroom. The rundown shelves were bare of any possessions, but a sad mattress sat on the floor with a thin blanket and chunk of foam for a pillow. The only other furnishings were a low table and a couple of mats for sitting or kneeling around it.
The only item in even reasonable condition was the heirloom weapon, a kind of bracer mounted side blade designed to extend parallel to the forearm when worn. It was a beautiful piece, and I could recognize how deadly it would be when combined with even basic maneuvers from the martial art that had been granted to me. It was still not nearly enough to dispel the desperate atmosphere of the room.
There were what passed for windows, but there were just a series of metal slates that allowed air flow and gave the vague impression of opening to a city at night. A cursory examination showed the effect to be completely artificial. Nothing could pass through them, and the airflow was unusually consistent. Clearly they were there to give the impression of not being completely contained rather than allowing any freedom. There was also an additional door directly linking the two apartments, separate from the hallway.
The second apartment was a step up and was clearly linked to the workshop expansion. While the first had been a desolate hovel filled with salvaged scrap items the second one at least looked like it had been intended to house a human, if not particularly comfortably. It was still fairly run-down, but nothing like the level of persistent decay the previous room had shown.
It was a proper single-room studio apartment. There was a dedicated area for sleeping and something that could pass for an actual bed. There was a sitting area that held a table, moderately comfortable chairs, and a small desk. An actual kitchen was present with a stove, small oven, microwave, and full refrigerator. The appliances had seen better days, but were all functional, even the tiny washer-dryer combo in the bathroom.
It was a proper bathroom, not the sad curtained off section the other room had had. It was pretty cramped, but perfectly serviceable with a sink and standing shower. Both the apartment and bathroom had a frosted glass window creating the impression of looking out over an indistinct city, but most certainly an aesthetic feature like the window in the previous room.
I was a little embarrassed by the fact that this place compared pretty favorably to my own apartment. I could say that my lopsided studio was a step above the salvaged scrap room, but that wasn't saying much. My power gave me an apartment specifically designed to be basic and run down and it still counted as a lifestyle improvement.
My tour of the rooms had been facilitated by Garment, who painstakingly pointed out every feature and aspect included in them. I was guessing she had seen the completed map from Survey while I was busy with technology analysis and already investigated. She wasn't exactly showing off the rooms, more making an angry demonstration of the various features that she felt were clearly substandard.
"Ok Garment, I get it." There was a huffing movement that indicated she didn't believe her point had been properly made.
"Seriously, it's not a big deal. I'm fine with this." She actually recoiled at my statement. "I'm serious. This means I'll be able to get my stuff out of the entryway and not have to sleep there anymore. It's a big improvement."
She looked a bit ill at that statement. "I know it's not that nice." From Garment's reaction she clearly felt I had understated things by a colossal magnitude. "But it's living space, that's all that matters, right?"
Garment clearly was of the opinion that that no, that was not all that mattered. "Look, it's just for sleeping. I don't even need all this space. Do you want one of these rooms?" She clearly did not. "You can have the nicer one if you want? I can stay in the first one."
I'd never seen Garment move so quickly as she scrambled for a stack of papers held beneath her laptop. She rushed to hand them to me, then moved to completely block my access to the more run-down apartment. I shuffled through the sketches as Garment watched me like a hawk.
When I finished I let out a sigh. "Garment, these are very nice." She preened. "But..." She stopped moving. I pressed on. "But I don't have time for renovations right now. There's important work to do and I need to prioritize things."
She tapped the drawing showing the revised layout of the workshop apartment and then the one that converted the clinic apartment into an office/sitting room. "Yes, that's wonderful, but I don't have time to do it now. I promise I'll get to it, but not right now. I've just barely caught up with what's already been added to the workshop."
There was a sudden rumbling through the floor as the entire workshop shook around us. I would have been terrified if I wasn't privy to the exact cause of the disruption.
The Celestial Forge had just made a new connection to the Toolkits constellation. The item was called the Skyforge, and it added a magical eagle themed forge to my workshop. This was the first time I had received an item like this while actually being inside the workshop and apparently it created a significant disruption for the occupants.
My omni-tool pinged and Survey displayed a twitter picture of a woman grabbing her hair with both hands, then began deleting and redrawing a section of the 3d map. From what was being filled in it looked like an interesting addition.
"Garment, we can come back to this later. I need to see what just happened." Her reaction implied agreement, but assured me the issue was far from settled.
There had been another minor power connected with the Skyforge. It was called Standing Stone:The Lover. The name might have been odd even by the standards of the Celestial Forge, but apparently it was the manifest power of astrology. I had been imbued with the blessing of a fictional constellation that provided a very slight but also completely universal increase to my learning speed. Not exactly overwhelming, but still welcome.
The final factor was not even classified as a power. It was more a change in the metaphysical mechanics, similar to when Innate Talent: Alchemist had opened up the possibility of learning spells under the ranked/tier magic system. Just having access to the power gave me a small pool of energy, or magicka. Potentially I could develop it and learn to cast spells, but like with the tier system I would have to research things from square one, meaning an intense amount of study and experimentation.
I did have another potential use for this ability. Unlike with the ranked system I already had my magicka pool available, rather than having to develop spellcasting to get access to it. Since that was a source of magic I should be able to power magitek devices from it. With the ability to produce infinite call beads I wasn't exactly short on magical power sources, but it raised the possibility of building technology powered by my own internal magic rather than relying on other fuel sources. That had a certain fundamental appeal.
Garment and I crossed the length of the workshop to reach the new addition. It was nestled between the Alchemist's Laboratory and the materials and metallurgical crafting equipment. I was expecting it to kind of be crammed into the available space. I was not expecting a cobblestone archway with a flight of steps leading upwards out of the workshop.
As I climbed the stairs the air got progressively colder. It would have been uncomfortable, but I had been dealing with a warm mid-April night where all the city's air conditioning had been knocked out. The gym had been even more of a sweatbox than usual and even the open air of the city had a heavy feel to it. By contrast the breeze blowing down the stairs had a clean sharp feeling to it, like something open and untamed.
The reason became clear as I emerged from the stairs to be greeted by a massive eagle statue lit from below by a glowing pool of lava. Its eyes glowed with heat and smoke trailed from its beak into the night air. The open night air.
The Skyforge was sitting open to the elements surrounded by distant mountain ranges. I could feel a cold winter wind blow across the open starlit landscape. It was chilling and breathtaking for reasons that had nothing to do with the temperature.
Some careful examination confirmed the same properties as the apartment windows. There was an invisible perimeter around the mountaintop forge that was impossible to move past. It wasn't a force field or invisible wall, just a disorienting kind of stretching sensation as you stopped making progress despite still moving. More fiat controlled aesthetics for workshop attachments.
As Garment admired the starry night sky and expansive view I took a closer look at the forge itself. This was a proper forge, and a magical one at that. I could feel the power within this place. The way it pulsed with energy was almost like a living thing. Any metal item I made here would be significantly harder and tougher than would be otherwise possible. Furthermore, this was an excellent quality forge. I could do true smith work here, rather than trying to approximate it with heat sources in my workshop. Making bone steel would be so much easier thanks to this place.
But that was just so much more work to do. I checked my omni-tool and realized that my potion had finished brewing. If I was going to get anything accomplished I would need serious help. I hurried out with Garment following me the short distance to the Alchemist's Laboratory. There the heat had automatically shut off, leaving the steaming beaker of bright blue liquid. I carefully decanted it into a set of five vials and picked the first of them up.
Okay, I had my omni-tool, so that was key in duplication. I collected my meteorite and dry ice samples for call bead creation. That was enough for the moment, and I had four more potions in reserve in case I needed anything else.
Garment watched as I downed the vial in two swallows. Like before, each gulp created a shifting around my limbs as a duplicate image was superimposed over me. One by one my copies stepped out into the Laboratory.
They looked exhausted. Not physically exhausted, but there was a weariness with every movement, a kind of slow burden behind every expression. It was like I was looking at the impact of the night on myself, and I didn't like what I saw.
Still, there was work to do. I cleared my throat and stood straighter. "Okay, there's a lot to do. We need to upgrade the manufacturing facilities, start multiplying resources, build and improve cape gear, analyze Bakuda's technology, get some workshop defenses in place, and monitor the city for updates."
I felt tired just saying it, and it didn't seem to go over any better with my copies. They shared a single glance before replying.
"No."
I stared blankly at them. I didn't expect this. I had approached using the duplication potion with extreme caution, but I thought this had been previously resolved. I didn't expect dissent, or even think there could be dissent from perfect copies of myself.
"Excuse me?"
The first copy shook his head wearily. "Yeah, no to everything you just said. None of that, not tonight. You need sleep, food and stress relief, in that order."
"I'm going to exist for less than ten minutes and the idea of any of that exhausts me. This has gone on long enough. Get some fucking sleep, for our sake." The second chimed in.
It didn't help that Garment seemed to be fully onboard with this plan. I was feeling betrayed and outnumbered as I tried to make my case. "Look, with everything that happened tonight..."
"Yes, it was a mess. We screwed up. Everyone here feels horrible about it. Except for Garment, of course." The second duplicate smiled at Garment, and she playfully waved him off.
"Do you think a late night sleep deprived crafting binge is going to make this evening any better? It's happened, we'll learn from it. Needlessly punishing yourself isn't going to help, especially when you're reducing your effectiveness by doing so."
I glared at my first copy. "It's different. We can get so much done, all those new powers, new equipment..."
"Will still be here in the morning. The last time we had anything approaching proper sleep was what, Thursday?" The second duplicate nodded at him and I had to deal with a very displeased reaction from Garment. "That's not healthy. You know without the nanites we'd be dead on our feet right now. We saw what that kind of thing did to the Undersiders. Do you want us making technical decisions in that kind of state?"
"Oh, and if you're thinking about just making new copies, do you think they'll be any more inclined than we are?" I glared at the second duplicate, but kept silent.
"Here." The first took out his reagents and offered them to me with the second following suit. "Take these and churn out some call beads. We'll deal with whatever we can get to in the meantime, but after that you need some sleep.
I looked at the components in my hand, then at the forces arrayed against me, and finally admitted defeat. The duplicates sighed in relief and turned towards the door. "Right, I'll start with..."
He stopped talking as both of them shifted to a distant and contemplative expression. I knew the precise reason for that. The Celestial Forge had made another connection.
It was to the Alchemy constellation, to a fairly minor mote, but one part of a larger cluster. The cluster had two of the smallest motes, one mid-sized, and one that dwarfed most of the largest motes from most other constellations. The mote was called Simplified Formulae and it gave access to an entirely new style of alchemy.
This wasn't traditional 'chemical by another name' alchemy or 'magic potions' alchemy or even 'magic spells with material components' alchemy. It was completely distinct from every style of alchemy I had encountered through the Forge or ever heard of outside it. It was the near magical restructuring of matter through the use of circles and technical knowledge.
Near magical, because it was definitely not magic, at least compared to my other magic powers. It was possibly powered by the channeling of tectonic forces, or potentially some obscure esoteric energy source. My knowledge of the higher level details were fairly sparse. I had the core level concepts. Understand composition of material, draw circle, disassemble material, recombine in desired form. There was a lot more potential, but those aspects weren't covered by this power.
What was covered was an insane level of efficiency in deployment. Normally it would be impossible to affect anything outside the transmutation circle, but with the insight granted by this power I would be able to circulate the energy of the transmutation with a much smaller array. A symbol small enough to fit in the palm of the hand could manage the effect of a ten or twenty foot wide circle.
There were certain immutable laws regarding this practice of Alchemy, specifically the concept of equivalent exchange. The most basic property of this was The Law of Conservation of Mass, or the input mass had to equal the output mass. That was a core and immutable aspect of this system of alchemy that my powers just balled up and threw into the trash.
I could tell right away that Workaholic applied to alchemical transmutation. The total destruction and reconstruction was more than enough to count as creation of a new item. That meant every transmutation would, upon the recombining of materials, either make five copies or increase in mass by twenty five times. That was a serious blessing because with my current skill level the speed of my alchemy would have been glacial. This perk would take it to the point where the transmutations would occur in a reasonable time scale, but it was a far cry from being combat applicable.
The second law was one I couldn't disregard so casually. The Law of Natural Providence meant that objects had to be transmuted into objects of similar makeup and properties. Not just the same elements, but the intrinsic properties of the object. That could be stretched, but only with serious difficulty and my skill level wasn't conducive to pushing the boundaries of the craft.
That skill cap was fairly limiting. I could manage broad changes and large scale works, but I wouldn't be transmuting complex electronics any time soon. Nanostructures were not even a possibility. Alchemy was incredibly useful, but it wouldn't be the answer to all my crafting needs.
Standing across from my duplicates I had the unique experience of watching them finish contemplating the nature of the new ability at the same time I did. It was this distant, detached look and the full implications of the power were considered. It was also really obvious. Is this what I'd been doing in front of everyone? Either they were exceptionally polite or just figured I was prone to zoning out at random moments. I should probably watch out for that before someone gets suspicious.
There was another rumbling and one of the duplicates suddenly spun off across the room. For once I got a chance to be here in person as the Alchemist's Laboratory was upgraded for new alchemical knowledge. The room expanded and an entirely new section with circles, reagents, and diagrams was added. Just like that I had a dedicated space for my new form of Alchemy.
"Wow, that was really something." The (second?) duplicate called from across the room.
"Uh, yeah. Really significant." The first yawned. "Doesn't change anything. You start with the call beads, we'll deal with what we can in the workshop, then sleep. I have a limited amount of existence and I don't want to spend it this exhausted." The second nodded as he followed the first out, with Garment trailing after them.
Is it weird that I don't trust copies of myself with Garment? The idea of not having to deal with the consequences of your actions combined with Garment's usual behavior...
You know what, it'll be fine. I mean, I didn't really believe that, but there wasn't much I could do about it at this point.
I picked up the first two copied reagents and activated the Call Up formula. Like before the mixtures glowed brightly and rose into the air as the connection was formed. Unlike before I felt one of my powers activate.
Call Up created call beads. Since I was making something that meant Workaholic activated. With a second's time to make the decision I chose copies rather than size and the bead split into five identical crystals before dropping into my hand.
Apparently I had even more unlimited magical fuel than I had anticipated. With this level of production just one use of a duplication potion would cover me for the foreseeable future. Sixty beads per potion, five potions per production, so effectively three hundred with a single hour's work. Most of that was unattended work, so maybe five minutes of actual crafting time.
And those were the copies of normal sized beads. There had been the option for a larger bead. Unlike with the larger potion there was actually an effect to a larger bead. The bead was a stabilized portal to the passenger realm. The amount of energy that the portal could transfer as well as the rate it could be provided was massively dependent on the size of the aperture. Even a slight increase could have a huge effect. It could create an item of immense power.
I considered for a moment, then drew another set of reagents. This time I chose to multiply the size rather than number. The reagents glowed and floated into the air. Then they glowed some more. Then they expanded. Then the glow got brighter. Then the mixture got bigger. Then brighter. Then bigger.
The light was so intense I had to squeeze my eyes shut and could still feel the heat on my skin. Without my reinforcement I would probably have ended up with a sunburn from the power radiating off the mixture. I heard a crackling sound as the brightness slowly started to diminish. I was able to crack open my eyelids just in time to see a blue crystal the size of a tangerine drop into my hand.
The glow from inside the crystal was intense, but that wasn't the disturbing part. Its light had the same distant look of normal call beads, but there was a flickering aspect to it. A normal call bead flickered, but it flickered like a Christmas light. It didn't flicker like something was moving across the source of its glow, temporarily occluding the light from the other side.
It was also powerful. I could feel the energy emanating from it. Maybe it was my new magicka pool that did it, or maybe it was just so strong that it would be apparent to anyone, but this was a colossal amount of power. It was the magical equivalent of a nuclear device and sat right in the palm of my hand.
It didn't even feel right to refer to something like this as a call bead. It was in an entirely different league. What should its name be? Call Stone? Call Gem?
I was considering the question when one of the duplicates burst into the lab with an active omni-tool. He took one look at the item in my hand before speaking.
"The hell?"
"Oh," I held up the glowing sphere. "Workaholic affects the call up formula. Multiple beads, or larger beads. Larger beads are a lot more powerful."
"Yes. I know." He held up the omni-tool and I saw the other duplicate and Garment displayed on it. "Situation's stable-ish. He did a stupid thing with alchemy."
"Stupid?" I tried to protest, but the duplicate shushed me.
"We felt that at the other side of the workshop, so yes, stupid. I'm calling 3am thinking and putting my foot down about the sleep thing."
"But it's only..."
"I think we can agree that this night counts as over time. It's been 3am for several hours now. Are you going to go along with this, or do I need to get Garment and the other guy to back me up?"
I know I have a tendency to be hard on myself, but this is ridiculous. I ended up staying there, supervised by myself, as I used the rest of the reagents to make normal call beads, then spent a bit of time discussing the potential of alchemy.
"We already tried that. Holograms don't work. The array needs to be physical, or attached to a physical object. You need to flash fabricate something to channel the energy. Easy enough to recycle afterwards, but it's not like you can just flash cycle through arrays at a whim." The duplicate spoke as he set another potion to brew. If I was being sent to bed like a child at least I would have some potions waiting for me when I work up.
"What about programmable materials," I asked. "Memory metal, or some kind of nano component?" I adjusted the heat and timer for my own portion of the lab. I was making an attempt at some Natural Alchemy potions, which were actually a lot more varied and nuanced than I expected.
"Good idea. Probably enough nanites saved up in the containment unit for some activated nano-ink. Combine with nanite control and it could be any array we'd need." His omni-tool pinged, with me kept out of the communication. "Other guy is done. Time for the handoff and sleep. Just in time, we're getting close to eight minutes."
"You don't have to do this. I can make it myself."
"You can also make magical WMDs while sleep deprived. I don't trust myself in this state, so I'm not trusting you."
I grumbled about it, but frankly it was a bit endearing. He led me out of the lab and towards the apartments. We were met half way by Garment and the other duplicate, who took the handoff and marched me between them like a death row inmate.
"So how did your work go?"
"Great." The duplicate smiled at Garment. "Managed a full set of critical upgrades, developed and field tested a bunch of transmutation arrays. Actually, here." My omni-tool pinged at the transfer.
"Great." I drew out the word. "Anything else?"
"Basic housekeeping. Also added our symbol as a profile picture on PHO."
I nodded. It was something I planned to do, and apparently something I did do. "Anything on there that I should know about."
"Nothing that can't wait until morning." His answer was a little stiff, but I decided to trust myself on that front. I wouldn't put sleep before an active disaster. "Hey, past the previous record." He called out as the timer ran past the duration of my last attempt at this potion.
It was a little weird walking next to someone who could vanish at any moment, but he didn't seem bothered by it. The final duration turned out to be nine minutes, fifty eight point five seconds, a nearly perfect potion. When he vanished Garment took the lead and opened the door to the more run down of the apartments.
I froze when I saw it, and the words of my duplicate echoed through my head. "Critical upgrades?"
Garment looked insufferably pleased with herself. The entire room had been transformed. It was legitimately unrecognizable compared to the dilapidated hole it had been before. Instead it was a modern, comfortable and well-appointed office.
The plaster walls had been overlaid, or possibly transmuted, into immaculate paneling with subtle designs etched into them. There was professional lighting, both overhead and wall mounted, banishing the dank gloom that had previously permeated the room before. The floor was now hardwood with a rich carpet that Garment seemed very proud of. Even the slated windows had been redesigned with an immaculate frame and tasteful window dressings.
The salvaged furniture was gone. It was replaced by hardwood items, a professional desk, a side table, cabinets and bookshelves, and a small seating area. The heirloom weapon sat proudly on a prominent stand at the edge of the room. The water connections had even been taken advantage of to add a small wet bar.
I was guided through the next door to the second revised apartment. This wasn't the complete night and day transformation the previous one had been, but was still stunning. The seating area had been removed to make more room for the bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom. Everything was neat, clean, immaculately designed and perfectly arranged.
The bathroom wasn't the cramped mess from before, it actually had a bathtub and shower. I don't think I'd had access to a tub since I left home, much less one I could actually fit in. There was subtle design work in every surface that created a soothing and cohesive feel to the room. The kitchen was massively improved, the appliances upgraded, and most of my food from the outside apartment had been transferred here, as had my toiletries.
I recognized the sheets from Garment's work on my previous bed. The mattress looked larger and was on a custom designed bed frame. I had a feeling alchemy had played a big part in this. There were wardrobes with all of my (Garment designed) clothing hanging in them as well as a fresh set of pajamas.
The whole thing was beautiful, and a wonderful gesture, even if most of it had come from myself. It was incredible to see the effect of all those design powers from the outside. I had kind of lost touch with how impactful that kind of thing could be. "Thank you Garment." She made a pleased gesture, then pointed at the bed. "Yes, I'll get some sleep." She pointed at my watch. Right, running alarm. Well, best to not even have the option. I pulled it off and handed it over, not even acknowledging a missed connection to the Magitech constellation.
With the prospect of sleep before me I was able to accept how bone tired I actually was. I may have fought against this, but considering the pittance of time it took and the benefits I could easily live with it. My projects would be waiting for me in the morning. For now I needed some decent and honestly well-earned sleep.
(Author's Note: To cover more of what's happening in the setting I'm planning to start including addendums to chapters going forward. Some of these will be short interludes that couldn't fill a chapter on their own. Some might be PHO threads, or other in-universe media. It will provide a chance to look outside the main character's perspective and see the changes to the setting as butterflies start building up. Interludes will still be part of the story, but this will allow shorter looks into the lives of other characters.)
Addendum Taylor
Taylor squinted as Brian pulled the car to a stop. Her head was still swimming from the after effects of Bakuda's bomb and there was an unsettling kind of reverberating feeling coming from her swarm. She looked out the window with dread. She didn't want to do this, but this was well past the point where she had a choice.
"Are you ready for this?" Lisa put a hand on her shoulder to steady her. It wasn't as necessary as it had been right after she woke up, but still appreciated.
"Not really, but it's not like that matters now." She gave the girl a gloomy smile and let Brian help her out of the car.
She took slow and careful steps on the accustomed path, supported by Lisa on the other side. Her eyes were still half closed and focusing was hard, but with her swarm that hardly mattered. They weren't half way across the lawn when she heard the front door slam open and felt the familiar figure rush out of the house.
"Taylor? My God, are you alright? Can I help?"
"It's fine Mr. Hebert, we should just get her inside. I'm Lisa, we spoke on the phone?"
"Yes, of course. I've gotten everything ready for you, set things up downstairs in case she couldn't handle the climb.
"I'm fine." Taylor tried to wave him off, but stumbled slightly and had to be supported by Brian.
"Maybe downstairs first, until she finds her feet?"
"Of course, Brian right? Thank you for this."
"Trust me, we feel awful about it." He replied as they entered the house. Even with her eyes half closed the sounds, smells, just the texture of home calmed her down in a way she didn't realize she needed. "We nearly lost track of her in that first blast, then with the way the city was..."
"Of course." She felt herself settled onto the sofa bed, made up with fresh dryer-warm blankets. There was the smell of baking in the air and a kettle was beginning to whistle. "I was kind of at a loss after you called, so I tried to get everything ready. Would you like to sit in the kitchen? Without the sofa there's not much space here."
"Thank you Mr. Hebert."
"Please, call me Danny, after everything you've done..."
"I'll be with you in a moment, I'm just going to help Taylor get settled." Taylor cracked her eyes a bit further open as Lisa sat next to her and Brian disappeared into the kitchen with her Dad. She heard them begin to talk, the prepared story about Taylor being caught in an early blast, treated for a concussion, and it only being safe to return now.
"It's fine. He doesn't suspect anything." Lisa whispered.
"I don't like lying to my Dad." Her voice was bitter as she returned the whisper.
"I know, but this was the best choice we had."
Taylor grit her teeth, but knew the girl was right. With the after effects of the bomb she was the only Undersider Joe hadn't been able to magically heal. Lisa had explained it as being related to the part of her brain that controlled her powers. It meant Joe actually had some limits, even if that limit seemed to be incredibly obscure.
She hadn't been stable enough to walk on her own, and trying to follow that motorcycle repair hadn't done her limited stability any favors. She really hoped that was the brain injury acting up and his hands hadn't actually been in three places at once while reaching through solid metal. She needed help to get home and explain things away, and that meant entwining her cape identity with her normal life.
That entwinement walked back through the door, with one of them holding a pot of tea and the other with a plate of cookies. With the level of surly she was feeling both were welcome additions. It led to her and Lisa sitting on the edge of the sofa bed holding cups of tea with the plate of cookies between them and Brian and her father hovering nearby.
"Your friend filled me in on what happened, I mean more than what Lisa told me over the phone."
Brian nodded. "After the blast we were focused on staying safe. Taylor was the only one badly hurt, and we were just trying to get some help in the chaos."
"Brian and I were away from the group when it happened. Taylor was closest, but Rachel was a bit scratched up. Alec wasn't seriously injured, but he's the kind to make a huge deal of everything."
That got a weak smile from her father. "What about your other friend, Joe?"
They hadn't prepared for this, but Lisa ran with it. "He showed up later, was a big help. With Joe we were able to get Taylor to my papa's clinic and he ran some scans. That's how we found out about the concussion."
It wasn't a concussion. Apparently Joe could fix a concussion as easy as breathing, but the symptoms were close enough and there wasn't a convenient medical term for overworked corona poll-whatever.
It was still weird hearing Lisa use a word like 'papa'.
"What do I owe you? For the tests?"
Lisa shook her head. "My papa would never let you pay. Not for a friend, not tonight."
"I… thank you, really."
There had been a doctor, though one in the employ of the Undersiders' boss who had experience with treating parahumans. That had been an interesting examination. Healthiest people to ever walk out of a war zone, or something like that. She hadn't been paying too much attention. Even now her focus was shifting as Lisa told her dad about her pain medication and dosage instructions.
"Joe managed alright?"
"He had to run off after we were safe, but he's doing fine."
"Taylor mentioned he was involved with some girl that was a bit of trouble?"
"Oh?" Taylor could practically hear the smile in Lisa's voice as she replied. "Oh yeah, HER. She's definitely bad news, but you know when someone just can't keep away." The girl leaned into Taylor's side. "Tragic really."
Taylor cringed in on herself, which triggered another round of concern from her dad despite her attempts to brush it off.
"I can help her upstairs. She'll probably feel better if she gets changed."
Her dad nodded. "I'll leave things set up here in case you want to rest downstairs tomorrow, maybe watch some TV?"
"Thanks Dad." She gave him a grateful smile and let the blonde girl help her up to her room.
When they arrived Lisa hid the backpack containing her costume and weapons in her closet without being asked, then helped her shift into her pajamas. After the events of the night she could probably use a shower, but didn't trust herself to stay stable for the duration of it.
"It's getting better?" From the thinker it was as much a statement as a question. Taylor nodded and the girl continued. "There's not a lot of basis for this kind of thing, but with Joe's healing…"
Taylor had to give him that. If not for the issues with her balance and focus she would have been in the best state of her life. She wasn't really tired, or hungry, and even lacked that burn she had grown accustomed to after hard workouts. Even the tension and soreness that she entered the situation with had completely vanished. The most trying night of her life might as well have been a spa day.
Lisa had explained the last minute revelation about over-healing everyone and what it had done to their mental state. Thinking back she could maybe pick up on a few signs of what it was talking about, but it seemed like he was just trying to take responsibility for other people's mistakes. That thought was particularly bitter when she thought about the Undersiders.
The prospect that she would ever be able to get out of this situation seemed more and more far fetched every day. You couldn't exactly make a clean cut when the leader of your villain group was at the very moment eating chocolate chip cookies with your father. And at this point any hope of keeping Joe from getting caught up in this mess was a completely lost cause.
She knew damn well he hadn't charged into a bomb riddled warzone for the prospect of a medical bill he had to know the Undersiders would never be able to afford.
"So what happens now?"
"Now? Now you rest up, get doted on by your father, use that doctor's note to avoid as much school as you want and take the time to get back on your feet."
She scowled. "You know what I mean. What happens now? What happens with Joe?"
Tattletale let out a sigh. "I'll call him tomorrow, get him that information he wanted. We'll have to meet with him about the medical stuff at some point, but he's not going to push for it until you're better."
She picked up the intent from Lisa's tone. "You want me to stretch this out? Fake it?"
"Not exactly, just take the time you need to recover, physically and emotionally. Take enough that you're completely recuperated, but not enough that he gets worried and decides to do something about it."
That was a more frightening thought than it should have been. Joe had a tendency to pull completely unexpected technology out of thin air. If he thought she had something seriously wrong with her she couldn't dismiss the possibility of him just showing up with a tinker tech surgery center or some kind of prototype miracle cure tonic.
"He is getting stronger, isn't he? We didn't misread things this badly at the start, right?"
Lisa looked down with a sigh and then nodded. "Don't know how it works, but his powers are something else. He couldn't have done this when we met him. Whatever it is, it's building fast."
Taylor had suspected from the moment he arrived at the facility, but this was full confirmation of what she'd been dreading. She hadn't just derailed the potential heroism of a promising tinker. She derailed the potential heroism of the next Dauntless. He had casually thrown away all concerns and hopes of respectability, all for the sake of whatever his thinker power had told him about her.
It was flattering and infuriating at the same time. For the first time in her life, or at least the first time in more than two years, she had someone with absolute faith in her. Who would support her no matter what. Who made her tinker tech that, if the PHO threads were to be believed, had an estimated price in the low eight figures. Who would ride through an explosion to challenge a supervillain, all for her sake. And what had she done with that level of faith?
Got him entangled with supervillains all for an undercover operation that was looking more and more futile. According to the internet she was Lady Khepri, terror of Brockton Bay. What did she think would happen if she threw up her hands and said 'Sorry, just a misunderstanding. Actually a good guy."
She let out a slow breath. "How do we deal with that?"
Lisa shook her head. "We'll manage. He doesn't want cash for tonight, that I could tell. Probably be paying it off with jobs or favors. As for the group..." She trailed off and it was easy to understand why.
Bitch had been incensed when she found out how much they could end up owing for tonight. Regent was still on everyone's shit list and had pretty much sealed himself in his room as soon as the money was recovered. Lisa hinted there was something serious going on there, but no one was up to dealing with it tonight. Brian had something off about him following the fight, something different than what the rest of them had been dealing with. Lisa was the one determined to see things through, but there was a real chance the Undersiders might not survive this as a cohesive team.
Wouldn't that be ironic? She joins a supervillain team to try to bring them down, only for them to fall apart before she gets the chance.
Lisa climbed off the bed and moved towards the door. "You should get some rest. Brian and I will make sure things are smoothed over with your father. Keep your phone and I'll check in when I know what's happening."
Taylor nodded, but before the thinker could leave she pushed for one last question. One she'd been avoiding. "Lisa?" The girl turned around. "No one's talking about it, but I wanted to ask. When Joe's bike-robot thing crashed, and there was the big explosion, did... did you see anything?"
The girl went dead still, not even breathing. Her eyes were unfocused and Taylor could see a drop of sweat on her temple. She remembered what she been told about Alec bringing it up with Joe, his joke, and the tinker's response.
'It's not exactly hell.'
"I'm not sure what I saw." She took a breath. "Whatever it is, my power can't handle it. Just grinds to a stop when I think about it." She shook her head. "He's the only person who could clarify that, and you're probably the best one to get it out of him. I'm… I'm not sure what good it will do, but you could try."
Taylor nodded and bid Lisa a good night. She lay there in the dark with a throbbing headache and the room slowly spinning around her. Despite her best effort her mind drifted back to that brief moment between when the robot had crashed and Bakuda's bomb had landed on her. The image of fractal clouds of glowing blood-red crystals stretching through insane and inconsistent dimensions of empty black space.
And that mad perspective of sitting in the middle of a web of flesh and crystal, strands streaming into the darkness and tearing through space, so much information, so wrong. The sight, or more like the feeling, of others. Other things in the dark, waiting, eager, and totally alien.
Nobody wanted to talk about what they had seen, but it had affected every cape there. It was a harrowing message. Joe wasn't just another tinker, not another Armsmaster or Dragon. Probably not even another Hero. He was working with something much stronger, much more fundamental. It was a terrifying idea, even if he was on their side.
She thought back to that first meeting, running off for the promise of bringing an arms dealer to justice. The assumptions they made at the time, the idea that they had a handle on things, it was just laughable. The image of that sword glowing with power and tearing a screaming arc into the night seemed completely at odds with the college boy who had shared pizza and made cracks about the timeframe of their rush orders. Despite Tattletales assurances at the time they had no idea what they were getting into. And thinking about the miracles he'd pulled out of nowhere, they clearly still didn't.
Taylor drifted off to an uneasy sleep as the city settled into at least a temporary peace. She could only hope it would last, but Apeiron was taking a stand against the ABB. With that kind of conflict in the works peace didn't seem very likely for anyone in Brockton Bay.
Jumpchain abilities this chapter:
They're Like Legoes, Right? (Kerbal Space Program) 200:
There's robust engineering, and then there's modularity. Pick one. Except for you - you seem to have the gift of designing methods that allow for seamless mixing and matching of modular technology that lack none of the parts incompatibility and fragility you'd except from such a design paradigm. While this seems focused on Kerbin technology in specific, a little work should have you applying such a paradigm to all sorts of technologies...
Reliable Invention (Kim Possible) 200:
Anything you construct is only broken when used improperly or purposefully targeted with attacks. The items you create do not malfunction and are completely resistant to damage caused by regular usage.
Skyforge (The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim) 200:
An ancient, mysterious, eagle themed forge added to your warehouse. Any metal items crafted at the forge will be significantly harder and stronger for it. Something about the fires.
Standing Stone: The Lover (The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim) Free:
Those under the sign of the Lover learn all skills slightly faster than they otherwise would.
Simplified Formulae (Fullmetal Alchemist) 100:
You understand the connections between parts. You can make large alchemy circles far more easily and far less complex than others. You can combine this with Advanced Formulae for multipurpose combat alchemy.
