39 Set Up
A person's clarity of purpose can quickly wither when exposed to the scale of work ahead of them. I had spent a solid morning resolving old issues and patching holes in my equipment and technology, but that was a far cry from actually getting a handle on things.
Through the rest of the day I had to sort out Garment's meetings, arrange Aisha's power armor, close out the series of weapon development programs I had running, and step up my surveillance efforts of the ABB.
That last item was both the most difficult and critical of all of them. I took some level of security in upgrading my gear, but the truth was there wasn't much that could stand up to even my older equipment, and nothing I had would stand up to March. Really, keeping my distance and securing information were my only options.
I suppose it really was a good thing my duplicates had put their feet down regarding my shield and use of aura. Anything that boosted mobility, speed, and reflexes would be able to keep me safe in a way no armor ever could. My aura was definitely geared towards evasiveness, which was probably another thing that spoke to some aspect of my character that I'd rather not explore in any detail. That speed should be enough to counter March and anything Bakuda could mount, but I wasn't going to underestimate them.
The weapon research was a second point towards that end. Everything planned for my Veritech could be installed on my motoroid on a smaller scale. I didn't have a fold carbon engine powering it, but that call gem had more than enough power to run the suit for ages. I was leaning towards trying to rebuild the motoroid by hand, but decided against it as an immediate priority. It was already overkill for any reasonable threat in this city. If there was something the time could be better spent on, then I should prioritize that.
Aisha's armor would be hand built. It would also be Named. I wasn't kidding about bringing everything I could to the table with that project. The only way I could even begin to justify bringing a thirteen-year-old into combat was by draping her in enough defensive measures to tank anything the world could throw at her. I was actually split on delaying the project until after I had a stable source of cybertonium, just for an assurance that I could break out the best equipment possible.
Something told me that wouldn't be the best idea. Aisha was impulsive and while the lack of conflict between gangs during the previous night had been a blessing, it also probably indicated that things were about to heat up in a big way. I could add emulated cybertonium to modular portions of her armor without resulting in a complete failure in the event of one unlucky result, but that would mean diminishing the effect of the Elven Enchanting. The higher levels took something significant out of me, and if I wanted to bring the best effect to Aisha I couldn't afford to take chances on failed material emulations.
Most of those concerns were already being dealt with by my duplicates. A lot of work had been done on Aisha's armor with only minimal oversight from me. The same was broadly true with weapon development. The varied arsenal from my powers and knowledge bases had been picked over by my duplicates, who had taken to applying the design and efficiency powers I'd recently been using to turn a pair of heavy boots into something that was basically the curb stomp of the gods.
My duplicates had been doing work towards improving the already comprehensive weapon database uploaded to the computer core. My design powers allowed the plans to be streamlined, simplified, and even miniaturized without any detrimental effect on the end product. The simplification of the design actually improved performance as well as making the item in question easier to manufacture and modify.
Actually upgrading the technology was a significantly more daunting prospect. Everything from Weaponsmith and Armourer was based on principles so advanced it was like looking at something from a post-singularity society. Clearly, there were compromises with some of the work, but a design that gave the ability to build a laser rifle by hand out of rough components was the kind of thing you could only get from an intelligence that dwarfed any conceivable limits.
There wasn't much I could do to make that better. Space Command Engineer did allow slight improvements to be made to any technology, though it was far from an automatic process. My research powers were just about up to the challenges for anything that wasn't a one-of-a-kind outlier from those databases, so I was able to make some small, incremental improvements to certain key models.
My duplicates were spending some time on that work. It was a kind of research that I was comfortable handing off to them, something where the end results were more important than the process. I was exceptionally lucky my copies were willing to take on busy work rather than demanding the most engaging experiences possible. It was another of those things that made me wonder about my own psychology, but that was a rabbit hole I'd rather avoid for the moment.
I received a message from one of the duplicates announcing they were starting work on ragnite refinement. The 'hidden' laboratory had been generating a few liters of low grade ragnite crystal each day. Normal refinement processes, which is to say the refinement processes that the lab was built to accommodate, would reduce that to a pile of toxic waste chemicals and a tiny sample of barely usable energetic material. If I had devoted time and effort to cracking the secrets of the lab before getting my latest power I would probably have come out of it with a mildly useful energy source that had to be supported by my numerous efficiency and resource powers to even have a hope of reaching a deployable level.
Valkyrian Science changed all of that. It instantly granted me the knowledge of ragnite's true potential, which was one on a level of some of the best energy sources I could produce. The lab's technology would never be able to come anywhere close to that kind of quality, and couldn't utilize it even if it was able to somehow get a sample to work with. The quality would just be too much for those limited applications. In terms of contained energy, it was like comparing coal to uranium.
One power had taken a material curiosity that was integrated into 1940s level technology and catapulted it to the level of a space age society. And I was going to take it even further. Ragnite was a mineral, meaning it was compatible with my volcano's enhancement properties. Every level of material enhancement could be applied to this substance, and then extended to whatever it would be powering.
That included my own equipment. The inertial blocking plate that let me remain unmoved from heavy blows would benefit from a compact energy source, as would just about all of my weapons and defensive items. Anything that didn't rely on a particular type of energy, such as my motoroid's magitek drive, or the heavy quantum effect of fold carbon that was needed for my Veritech's systems, could see a benefit from this material.
Pure ragnite-based technology was also possible, though considerably more difficult. It could be used for devastating attacks and powerful defensive fields, but required either a very particular biological resonance or extensive control hardware to support it. Arcane Craft let me use items of power as long as I could understand the principles behind them, so there was the possibility that I could utilize Valkyrian weapons and equipment.
The thing was, that was a minor concern at the moment. I didn't need more firepower or expanded defenses. Neither of those things would help me find the ABB, or survive an attack from March. Or one of Bakuda's more creative bombs.
I had been so focused on the overwhelming strength of March's striker power that I had largely moved away from concerns over Bakuda's arsenal. Now, some of the effects I'd previously been worried about were no longer a concern thanks to either the insane expansion of my regular durability or the basic defensive screens incorporated into my equipment blocking direct contact.
That covered a lot of the concerns, but not all of them. I was safe from toxic and biological effects, crystal propagation, and pretty much any level of energy that Bakuda could deploy against me. Exotic things like time stop bombs, material transmutations, and spatial effects were still a threat. I needed to keep that threat in mind, even if I had no intention of actually letting any of her devices near me.
That was considerably easier thanks to recent improvements to my motoroid. I was already good at lasers thanks to Gadget Master and assorted technology skills, but Weaponsmith brought a whole new array of options to that field. With the 'projectile' moving at the speed of light and the best targeting system I could build being directed by Fleet the motoroid had some of the most comprehensive point defense physically possible.
It was basically the earlier strategy of shooting missiles out of the air, only done with surgical precision rather than just pointing at a section of sky and saying 'fuck everything in that general direction'.
I sent an inquiry to my duplicates regarding the tasks in question and any assistance that was necessary, and received an expected response. No scut work. Go do something that will have long term benefits. If there was no benefit to getting a closer look than reports could offer then there was no reason for me to be the one who does it.
Which is how I ended up standing in the arena opposite the recently upgraded motoroid armed only with my shield and new boots while Fleet piloted an eight-foot combat suit armed with the deadliest weapons on the planet. I sank into a low stance and reflected on the unfairness of the matchup.
Fleet engaged the motoroid's new repulsors, lifting it into the air with far more precision than was previously possible. With an echoing crack the tonfas swung out, sparking with HF energy. I engaged the resonant capacitors in my own boots and reluctantly deployed my lantern shield. The weapon had been fully upgraded by my duplicates, with the design streamlined, the mechanism more efficient, and a full complement of variable weapon features added.
The already resonant design had subtle alterations made to generally increase its ability to channel aura. The design had been made lighter, allowing faster parrying, strikes, and deployment of the grapnel. Further to that end, the 'lantern' part of the lantern shield had been repurposed.
Lantern shields were Italian dueling weapons. The idea of them being that if you were out for an evening's murder you didn't have enough free hands to hold your shield, spare weapons, and light source. This problem was addressed with typical Italian Renaissance thinking by stapling all these together into an unholy mix of functions, incredibly specialized and generally seen as weird and awkward by anyone outside that environment.
Did I mention I was uncomfortable with the weapon's supposed reflection of my inner self?
Anyway, in addition to stapling a buckler onto a gauntlet and mounting everything from knives to light spears on the outside, it included a built-in lantern. Usually this was basically just an oil reservoir in the shield with a small hatch for the wick. Not exactly a tactical flashlight, but enough to let you see the person you were trying to stab to death.
Now, obviously I didn't need a 16th century lantern in my weapon. Which was precisely why my duplicates had decided to convert it into a Dust chamber. I think that may have actually been the original purpose, but in a 'jam a crystal here and hope it explodes in the direction of your opponent when struck' sense, not the current masterful arrangement of rotating chambers holding impossibly high-quality dust with specific alterations to the shield allowing effective channeling of the energetic material.
When I said this fight was unfair I was serious.
Fleet launched forward, peppering me with rapid-fire mass effect rounds as he rapidly closed. He was firing high velocity at close range, but with the lighter shield and boost from aura I was able to catch and deflect the slivers of metal. Without my inertial plate I could feel the weight of each impact. Mass effect fields reduced the metal shaving's weight to nearly zero during acceleration, allowing them to reach absolutely insane speeds. As they left the barrel the field was reversed, artificially increasing the mass of the shaving by orders of magnitude without affecting its velocity.
This caused a massive increase in kinetic energy, but only until the effects of the field wore off. Even with the best possible engineering, manipulation of mass like that was an extreme challenge. It was an accomplishment to get the round to hold its effective mass for even a fraction of a second. That still allowed an effective range of thousands of feet. After that the shaving would drop back to its original mass and bleed momentum as air resistance kicked in. Even if it did manage to connect before atmospheric friction brought it to a standstill the shot would lack the penetrating power of a heavier round, just exploding against the surface of the target.
I was well within the effective range of these guns and felt every one of the heavy shots as they bounced off my shield. The Time constellation missed a connection as the rain of impacts pressed against me. Despite the intense force my body held fast. The boots secured me to the ground as if I was fixed with rivets. Despite the anchoring effect I could feel a sense of lightness and agility from my feet. These were legitimately magical shoes. Anything 'good' about shoes, anything they could do well, was magnified to a ludicrous degree with them. Good shoes would help you keep from losing your footing in a difficult situation. Divinely empowered footwear removed the possibility all together.
The scale of the effect was doubly confirmed as the motoroid slammed into me at full thrust. My shield caught the HF tonfa, its own capacitor activating to meet the strength of the motoroid's weapon. The impact of the runic blow was followed by the entire motoroid crashing into my defenses. My aura strained along with my enhanced musculature, making me acutely aware of how much of a difference Tetra made in cases like this. With a shove I deflected the entire suit into a skyward arc.
Fleet swung the motoroid around for another pass, but quickly altered course as he became aware of the line trailing behind him. With a flick I locked the spool of razor wire in place, halting the suit in midair. I lifted one boot and brought it down on the line. The impact of the enchanted stomp transferred more energy than I could ever have hoped to bring to bear. The motoroid hung in midair for a fraction of a second before the line went taut and drove it into the ground.
Five hundred pounds of enchanted super-metals slammed into the ground like a comet. The floor of the arena was transmuted volcanic stone with the enhancements of my powers and further mantic empowerment. Under the force of a motoroid driven by a divine stomp the rock cratered like a bomb had gone off.
Still, this was my workmanship. It took more than a high-speed impact with solid stone to put it down. Before the dust and thrown shards had even settled I saw Fleet bringing the Motoroid to its feet. By that point I was already on the move, dashing in with all the speed that Aura would allow.
I could feel Fleet through the network evaluating his options. Numerous sub-weapons were considered and disregarded. Some for their lack of effectiveness, some for being outside the spirit of the spar. My duplicates hadn't been limiting their weapon work exclusively to the Veritech. The motoroid had more than a few surprises, not to mention the main battery that was its magitek laser.
But this wasn't a test of extreme suppression measures, containment weapons, or tactical ordnance. It was power calibrations for the motoroid's new systems and my new equipment. As such, Fleet shifted the suit into a low stance and brought up one arm. There was the hum of a repulsor charging as I closed the final distance.
Repulsor technology was one of the gems of my I Am Iron Man power. Pure thrust drawn from nothing but the power source of the device. By charging and focusing the output it would make a devastating ranged weapon. At close ranges it would be enough to send anyone reeling.
I wasn't anyone, and there was more to this practice than a balance of power. I had received three sets of combat instruction from my power, and was drawing on them now. Military CQC was useful in dealing with the disparity between ranged and melee. Skills: Combat covered extensive techniques for fighting such an extensive a range of opponents that an 8-foot humanoid robot was mundane by comparison. Finally, T'ai Chi Chuan allowed surprisingly devastating explosions of force.
I admit to underestimating that style. Weaponized Tai Chi sounds like a joke, and it's not like it sees a lot of use in mixed martial arts competitions. The thing was that, unlike the other two styles, this form was laser-focused and had tremendous depth. Its apparently useless energy channeling mechanics proved deadly when combined with aura or life fiber energy. It was simple enough to be used unarmed, but broad enough to incorporate swords, chains, whips, polearms, or even feng huo lun, which provided an excellent parallel for my shield.
Between the skill of my movements and the enhancement of aura I was able to shift my step just as Fleet opened up with the repulsor blast. The impact caught a glancing blow on my side, a calculated, intentional strike that was channeled into a smooth rotation. Using the momentum from the blast I spun and lifted one leg to deliver a brutal kick directly to the motoroid's center of mass.
Without the enhanced perception allowed by my Aura and my other enhancements I probably would have missed the shudder of the impact and the slight flexing of impossibly durable armored plates. Then there was nothing left to see as the motoroid was launched with a crack of displaced air and the explosion of the arena's stadium seating as a five-hundred-pound projectile was hurled into them like a cannon shot.
Suddenly calibration and testing was a lot less important than digging Fleet out of the pile of rubble that had once been the left side of the arena. Despite the inconvenience he was positively ecstatic about the experience, exchanging rapid correspondences with the main computer core. By the time I dug him out a dozen simulations of the fight and forces involved were already running in the background and Fleet had twice as many proposals for additional exercises.
I had kicked him into a pile of rubble and his immediate reaction was to ask if we could do it again. I might have had some concerns about the integrity of the arena, but I was granted a first-hand look at the advantages of a high-powered mantic circuit. Before my eyes the damaged floor and stands began reassembling themselves, pieces of rubble floating through the air and sealing back into their original shape. Within a few minutes the entire arena was pristine and untouched.
I indulged Fleet's request for further trials, but we shifted from the free-form sparring to testing out specific maneuvers and interactions. Honestly, without actual combat it was harder to draw on Aura effectively. I think there was a danger element that made it come to the forefront, though I couldn't be sure. It's not like I had an effective point of comparison. Even with that aspect diminished we were able to run through a gauntlet of simulations confirming both the strength of the new weapons and the extreme durability of my upgraded materials. Even without being used personally by me the defensive properties of my equipment outstripped my offensive power. That meant avoided repair time post-sparring and peace of mind concerning Aisha's safety.
There were still some effects I was concerned about, which were mostly waiting in my Laboratorium. Luckily, by the time my duplicates finished their 20% time Fleet and I had wrapped up our test runs. Before downing the next potion I entered the Laboratorium and retrieved the full tinker tech cache.
It was time for it to be pulled anyway. Analysis had been completed on everything possible with normal scans, but it still felt like I was taking a puppy's favorite toy from them. Assurances that it was temporary were only marginally successful in diminishing the sense of loss that rippled through the room. As a final dour note to the situation, the music that had been playing since the tinker tech's arrival cut out just as I left the room.
I looked at the motoroid, which was staring at me with a potion in its hand and what I interpreted to be Fleet's attempt at an impatient expression.
"Fine. I know." I assured him, and downed the potion. My duplicates stepped out, each with a copy of all the tinker tech that had been secured on my person. I gave them a quick nod.
"Only an hour for destructive analysis. Think that's enough time?"
The first gave a curt nod. "Should be if we get started. Probably take the full duration, but…"
"Got it." I agreed, and handed off my set. "Keep the originals for reference. Now go."
The duplicates gave quick nods and darted into the Laboratorium. Whatever sense of loss had accompanied the skulls' separation from the tinker tech was instantly banished. A cry of "Ave Imperator" rang through the lab as every skull and machine spirit sprang up, eager for involvement in the long-awaited chance at destructive testing.
I smiled and shook my head before turning back to the main workshop. I just noticed a slight poke through the network, like someone was trying to get my attention as unobtrusively as possible. It was Survey. Survey was trying to get my attention, but didn't want my attention. Survey had something she needed help with but also didn't want me to see.
I honestly couldn't imagine anything more concerning that that. I broke into a run on the spot and verified the speed-enhancing properties of divine footwear in a blitz to find out what was going on.
I found Survey's hologram in Garment's workspace and quickly determined the cause of her distress. In terms of what an unsupervised A.I. could have gotten up to… well, I guess she was supervised by Garment. Was that better or worse? Given what had happened I'm going to lean towards worse.
"Survey, can you please explain how this happened?" I asked as calmly as I could. I was speaking out loud as well as interfacing through my implant, the combination seemed to help Survey cope. Fleet had arrived with the motoroid shortly after I got caught up and was alternating between trying to support Survey and the digital equivalent of gaping in fascination.
Survey was actually conveying her discomfort very effectively through her hologram's behavior, though that had nothing on the storm raging within her program. Still, she powered through with a verbal and digital explanation.
"The land holding company responded promptly regarding the requested revisions to the lease-to-own contract. They requested clarity on the reasoning behind a number of the revisions. With Garment's limited ability to convey details I drafted the response outlining the legal regulations and precedents that the revisions were designed to address. They responded in a positive manner, but also requested the identity of the person providing Garment with legal guidance."
I finished reviewing all the system logs just as Survey finished her explanation. I took a deep breath before responding. "So, you made up a lawyer?"
"From the detail of the contract amendments they were convinced a legal professional was involved. Contradicting them would have raised more concerns than working with the assumptions made." The hologram explained quickly while Survey transferred records of her thought process and the string of interactions.
I sighed. "And 'Delphine Mertens'?"
"Generated from tables of common western European names. Assessments showed a higher chance of acceptance of the concept if the individual was implied to be external to the local legal community. The objective was to create the impression of being imprecisely foreign." She explained quickly.
I nodded stiffly. It shouldn't have been that big a deal. Garment had contacted someone independently regarding her lease contract, they reviewed it and were providing advice. She already had independent finances, so hiring someone wasn't out of the question. Really this should have been a footnote on the deal. There was just one single problem.
Survey had done too good a job.
Not only had she located potential flaws and conflicts in the lease agreement, but had, when asked, provided exhaustive and well-reasoned justifications for all of them. That only became more evident as their exchanges went on and it became clear that she was performing at a level beyond the company's entire legal team. It had gotten to the point where they were making inquiries about her firm and consulting rates, with the heavy implication that they would be looking into things.
And there would be nothing to find. So, the options were to cut things off here, which would be a slap on the wrist for Survey and cast some unfriendly attention on Garment, or double down on the fake identity thing. Looking at both Survey's code and hologram I couldn't bring myself to take the first option. She had put a lot of work into this prospect, and it hadn't been that poorly thought out. If she had been a little more reserved it might have even blown over completely. Instead, her first big push into the outside world was blowing up in her face.
I glanced over at Garment, who was looking much too innocent in this entire matter. Had it been Survey to make this push? She wouldn't have gone against her role of assisting Garment, and this was the kind of thing Garment would love. A French legal aid? Or possibly Belgian? Maybe Italian? Generic European? Yeah, that was right up her alley.
I shook my head and turned back to Survey's hologram. "It's alright. We can deal with this."
The way her hologram's face lit up at that statement made it all worthwhile.
That is, for all of the two minutes it took for me to discover how difficult it was to convincingly manufacture a person. I didn't even want to think about the laws I was breaking here, and somehow that made me feel like a bad role model. What exactly is the crime for accessing the government records of a foreign nation? Well, if this worked I would have an in-house lawyer to explain exactly how illegal everything was.
The hacking wasn't exactly hard. Really, the main challenge was associated with the level of care I took with the falsification. Survey wasn't going to come out of this with a complete alternate identity, but there would be enough crumbs to avoid raising any red flags if someone went looking. Really, just enough hints to convince them it wouldn't be worth the effort of digging deeper, particularly when the first few layers of digging would only reveal the necessity of yet more digging.
The actual challenge was making sure everything I did was completely undetectable. I thought I was being careful with my earlier escapades, but Dragon had disabused me of that notion. Now I was leveraging every computational technique and power to make sure I was a ghost in these systems. Between the excessive caution I was exercising and the comparatively simple security of the records I was able to accomplish my goal before my duplicates hit their 20% time.
And just like that, one of my A.I.s had a human identity. A shaky one, but it was still there. Survey was now essentially a lawyer in the eyes of the world.
Huh, I guess there is some truth to that stuff about artificial intelligences eventually turning evil. Still, as a cold electronic presence with a highly limited concept of humanity it was a natural career to pursue.
Thank you, I'll be here all week.
I could feel Survey's excitement as the… I was going to say 'work', but really as the criminal actions concluded. There was an unquestionable air of joy running through her code, and a sense of vicarious satisfaction from Fleet. And also, moderate eagerness. I had a feeling I would probably be repeating this soon for a second resident of the workshop.
I was just about to disconnect from the throne when the Celestial Forge made a connection to the Vehicles constellation. The power it connected to was Valuable Memories, giving me connections to three of the four mid-sized motes in the cluster. Previously I had received the knowledge regarding memory manipulation and the construction of giant robots. I went into this connection assuming that it would be something equally eccentric.
I was both not disappointed and horrified beyond belief.
This mote granted new memories in the form of another mental database of skills, just as the last two had. The specific topic of this mote was not something I had been expecting. You might even say it was something I had been dreading.
It covered the creation of chimeras.
That is the kind of power that sounds ominous even by the standards of the Celestial Forge. The truth of it was actually a lot worse. This was from the Vehicles constellation. Outside of this power that constellation had mostly provided mechanical knowledge or principles. Yes, this power had giant robot construction in it, but it also had memory alteration. And now it had the creation of chimeras.
In this context, chimeras were giant monsters. Kind of the parallel to the giant robots made possible with the previous mote, but substantially more horrifying. By 'giant' I don't mean something like an elephant. I mean twice the size of Behemoth. And that's as a starting point.
It was a comprehensive wet tinkering ability centered on the creation of monsters. In other words, it was the second half of my original specialty, dumped on me out of nowhere. In fact, if you count the nature of memories as the neurochemistry side and the creation of chimeras as the bioengineering side I was now back to where I would have been with my original trigger. Nilbog meets Heartbreaker by way of Bonesaw. Only Nilbog couldn't make monsters on this scale, and Heartbreaker couldn't rewrite someone's entire life.
I didn't know what to do with this information. I meant that both on the meta level of suddenly having this power, and in practical terms of suddenly being able to produce giant monsters.
Actually, no. It wasn't just giant monsters. That would have been too simple. The information was there, breaking down how to sequence, engineer, incubate, and finally produce something that would grow to a size that no living thing should be able to approach. That was bad enough, but it wasn't the truly horrifying part. There was more biological knowledge here, comprehensive knowledge on artificial proteins, biological augmentations, and various uses for live subjects.
There were shortcuts that you could take to rush the production of a giant monster. You just needed to throw out any semblance of morality. Live subjects, particularly humans, could be used as a starting point. The things I could do… Well, I really didn't want to think about them.
I noticed a pair of contacts through the network. My duplicates. They were dealing with this as well. From their reactions it wasn't any easier for them either. Apparently they wanted me out of the throne, which was probably a good idea. This was serious enough without burning into it at twenty times normal speed.
I finished disconnecting to the sound of feet running towards the computer core. I watched, slumped on the seat as both my duplicates rushed around the corner and up the stairs leading to the throne, slowing as they neared the top.
"Uh, hey." The first offered. "Okay, I'm not going to ask if you're alright, because that would be fucking pointless." The second nodded along with that and a ghost of a smile quirked on my lips. "I know, horrible technology, terrible wet tinkering, and that nightmare from our trigger. It looks bad, but it doesn't have to be."
I raised an eyebrow at that as the second picked up the thread. "Nature of memories, right? Had it since Saturday. Can completely rewrite someone's mind, dig into their brain for secrets, or wipe them out as a person. And we have done none of that. Full consequence of getting half of our power was helping Aisha and making the magic water for god metal."
I nodded. "I get it. Leave the horrible, try to use it. Like with Case 53s, or medical tech…" I paused as I considered the medical applications of this kind of work. It felt like trying to build a house using cement made from orphan blood. Or like I was digging through a box of nightmares to find the one that might have a side effect relevant to a specific condition.
"Yeah, we're there with you." The first agreed. "It's bad stuff, but it's just knowledge. It can't do any harm if we don't want it to."
I nodded slowly and glanced down at the lantern shield, currently collapsed into a black metal band on my wrist. "Fine, I get it." I stood up. "No reason to mope over it."
"At least not now." Offered the second. "Once the gang war is over you get unlimited moping privileges. Go full woe is me, cursed with evil powers and all I used them for was saving an entire city."
That brought a smile to my face. "Got it. Shouldn't you be on 20% time?"
"And abandon the Laboratorium?" The first asked, aghast. "It's been party central since we let them start tearing apart the spatial rift bomb. You better get down there to get the second set of copies ready for when the first ones disappear, otherwise there's going to be a riot."
That brought a smile to my face and I followed them down to the Laboratorium entrance. A huge amount of progress had been made with the tinker tech disassembly, but only on a few critical items, and mostly because of the comprehensive scans and analysis from the previous days. In fact, with some of Bakuda's tech the Laboratorium's safety procedures wouldn't have allowed disassembly any sooner. When you are dealing with unstable spatial folds there are certain safety procedures that are generally a good idea.
The fact that the Laboratorium had safety procedures for effects that exotic wasn't even surprising at this point. I let my duplicates run down their personal time and refreshed the tinker tech with the next set of copies before returning to Garment.
I was sure she would never admit anything regarding Survey's little endeavor into fraudulent representation, no matter how happy she seemed with the result. Once that was dealt with Survey was able to 'close the deal', so to speak. Garment would still need to sign the lease at the company's office, and following that could take possession of the property. The rent was excessively reasonable, a consequence of the neighborhood. Additionally, the company was willing to waive certain deposits in exchange for being able to publicly announce their involvement in the deal.
One of the things that may have put their impression of Survey, or 'Delphine Mertens', over the top was her quantification of the estimated value of various levels of publicity expected to result from the announcement based on current levels of exposure in both social and conventional media. It turned what was probably supposed to look like a highly generous offer by the company into more of an equitable arrangement, and not one that overly favored Garment.
The Time constellation passed by as I reviewed the terms. Getting Garment to their office would be another challenge. The Protectorate's escort from the previous day had been incredibly convenient. Unfortunately, until Garment got a few more resources moving a cape as obvious as her around the city would be a trial. It wouldn't matter once she could hole up in her studio, but transportation was going to be a concern.
That thought triggered an inquiry from Fleet, and I had a feeling my next round of computer fraud would probably involve a chauffeur's license.
Still, even with travel time, finding a place to deploy Garment, collecting her afterwards, and getting her to the new property it should be wrapped up by early afternoon. The decision of how to proceed from there was another matter. Survey had looked into the quagmire of cape law and Garment was probably alright with private commissions while the paperwork for her business was being processed. Even with the best-case scenario that could take weeks to go through, and that was assuming the conditions of a city without Guard detachments deployed on a nightly basis.
Still, it came together well enough. I signaled Survey, who sent a confirmation of the time to Aisha while waiting to help Garment contact Mr. Laborn. While she handled that I took some time to examine the state of the city.
Something about the previous night's standoff didn't sit right. The Merchants and Empire had laid obvious traps for ABB activity, but if my estimation of March was correct she could have thrown a dozen wrenches into either situation. Everything about her seemed centered on making efficient use of time, so the 'wasting' of an entire night didn't make sense. Not unless she was putting something else in play.
My ability to figure out what was limited. I didn't have any surveillance technology in play, and wasn't going to risk deployment with both Dragon and those reverse-engineering bombs in play. Too much of my technology could be devastating in the wrong hands, and hands didn't get much worse than Bakuda or a compromised Dragon. Dragon's presence was even more concerning, since it cut off another avenue of information.
I had seen shadows of the tinker's presence on local networks. She was moving with incredible care and stealth, but between my technokinesis and expanded computer knowledge I was able to detect her. I hadn't been spotted in return, but that was mostly due to my excessive care in regulating my activities. Between my upgraded modem and new countermeasures I could slip by her excessive watchfulness, but I couldn't act with the level of recklessness I previously had.
Honestly, without Dragon's monitoring I would probably have a complete birth certificate, school records, chain of employment and immigration paperwork completed for 'Delphine Mertens'. Survey's fake lawyer would be more real than most physical people.
That left me with passive analysis of public information and social media. Not the richest vein, but still somewhat profitable. Enough people being active enough and posting enough information and patterns started to emerge. It was the same type of system used for targeted advertising, only this time turned to the side of good.
Unfortunately, getting effective results on that level, such as showing someone an ad for socks after they happened to notice their feet were cold, required an unethical level of data access. I was working with less precise information, but also looking for less precise output. Even a general idea of what was going on would be helpful.
I briefly considered reaching out to Tattletale, but the girl was both insanely overworked and constantly beating her head against the solid brick wall that was March's power. I would have to trust she would reach out if anything was confirmed. In the meantime, I unleashed Survey on Brockton's social media networks like the hounds of hell.
Working things out, I would have to leave sometime after this set of duplicates dispersed. I could set the next copies in the lab, but after that I would need their help on Aisha's armor. Until then, I at least got to take part in the Laboratorium party atmosphere that came with actually dissembling tech.
Upon arrival I was quickly set up in the command throne and upon engaging the link felt the immense satisfaction emanating from the older machine spirits. While the Laboratorium was set up with the possibility of automation in mind it was intended to function best with a larger staff. Three people barely counted, but given that they were all highly skilled, had cybernetic connections, and had a clear hierarchy between them the machine spirits were fully willing to run with the idea. That coupled with the excitement of tearing into new technology and the passive benefits of the mantic circuit meant truly excellent progress was being made towards the more exotic items I had salvaged.
This time I maintained the research while allowing my duplicates to take their full 20% time in the rest of the workshop. I had to intentionally wind down the examination before the copied tinker tech disappeared with the duplicates, but it was met with good humor based on experience that it would be back. In fact, the Laboratorium was enjoying being able to tear into particularly complicated pieces multiple times to discern their full operational principles.
After my duplicates' duration ended I refreshed the potion one more time and left them to the research while I prepared to head out. With the serious chance that I would encounter someone I knew in the neighborhood I elected to down one of the build reduction potions.
The potion tasted like ash and sand. Drinking induced the sensation that your body was being stretched out on a rack in front of a dry wind. I watched in amazement as the excesses of my divine build withered down to something that would be reasonable of a physically active person with more pressing commitments than living on a protein diet and pumping iron like it was your primary source of income.
A quick check confirmed no side effects, something my duplicates had already investigated, and showed a build that was slightly ahead of my earlier body, but not enough that it would raise suspicion. If everything went right the potion should last about two and a half hours. I was capable of longer durations, but length had been traded away with this brew to prevent any diminishing effects over the course of the potions run.
It did mean that if I went over I would suddenly hulk out of these wonderful new clothes Garment had made for my new build. Well, hulk out of everything but my civilian level boots. Those had the benefit of my power to ensure they always fit, and were also an excellent hold out weapon and defensive option.
Frankly, letting Garment know I had the ability to alter my body shape may have opened something of a Pandora's box in terms of fashion design. She was way too enthusiastic about the idea, and I was suddenly very grateful she would be getting an outside outlet for her work.
One last check confirmed that Aisha's father had responded to confirm the time of the meeting, set roughly half an hour after Garment was predicted to take possession of the building. Providing no unexpected setbacks, that is.
On that note, I took a moment to review Survey's preliminary analysis of the available data. The initial results were slightly concerning, a concern only mitigated by how vague they were. Survey had managed to dig into months of posts and media reports. The conclusion that something different was happening was not that pertinent given the kidnappings, hostage soldiers and active military on the streets.
Even attempting to account for that, something seemed off. I left Survey to keep processing the data and headed out.
My first stop was the gym, and for once it looked like a gym rather than a community center. My Pinto was still in the now uncrowded parking lot, but I decided to duck in before running Downtown. The interior had also returned to normal, though there was still the odd table set up from Garment's debut and the banner still suspended over the ring. A few regulars were scattered around the gym, but I spotted some new faces, including a husky red-faced teenager frantically trying to keep up with Doug's lesson.
I caught the big man's eye and gave a slight wave. He returned it with considerably more enthusiasm before turning to his new student.
"I've gotta see to this. Take five and grab some water." He barked. The boy was panting too hard to reply, so he merely nodded frantically before scrambling for his water bottle as soon as the coach turned away.
"Joe!" Doug's friendly voice boomed around the room, causing the regulars to look up in greeting and the new arrivals to extend interested looks. "Good to see you!" It didn't escape my notice that he had just enforced a pecking order on any of the new members Garment's debut had attracted. Around the gym the people in Doug's good book could be listed on a slip of paper the size of a fast food receipt with room to spare. An open friendly greeting meant a lot with that kind of dynamic in play.
"Hey Doug. Did the truck work out alright?" I asked innocently.
"Beautiful work." He answered, dropping from his 'actually talking to everyone in the gym' voice to his usual conversation level, which was still loud enough to be heard in the locker rooms and halfway to the street. "Drew was beside himself. Said it's running like a dream."
"Glad I could help." I replied, trying to downplay things as much as I could.
"For that man this was a lifesaver." He shook his head. "Things are tough out there, steady work can mean the world in situations like that." I nodded as he looked over at me. "How are you doing on that front?"
"I've… got some stuff lined up." I saw his expression and quickly clarified. "New role, last one wasn't working out so well."
He gave a knowing nod and dropped his voice to the point where only those in the same half of the gym could hear us. "That's probably a good move. Things are a mess out there." Then his eyes glimmered conspiratorially. "Though I've got some big news. Laborn got out of the hospital yesterday."
I smiled at that. "That's great. I knew they couldn't keep him down."
"That's not the news." He cut me off and grinned wider. "You're going to love this. Apparently his daughter is going to work for Garment."
I blinked. "Aisha?" I asked, more surprised that it was being discussed like a done deal than anything else. Doug just nodded.
"Yeah, apparently ran into her near the gym and swept her up. Got her a whole new wardrobe as an advance or something. I've never heard the man so happy as when he told me the news." Doug beamed.
"Better than what she used to wear?" I tried to sound sincere in my guess.
My statement got a laugh from Doug. "Couldn't be worse. You saw what Garment makes, and that girl's everyday wear made her gym stuff look modest. More than that, he said Aisha's been different since she met Garment. Less attitude, more focused, even behaving better." He saw my expression and quickly clarified things. "The girl's still Aisha, but he thinks meeting a cape like that left her a bit starstruck. Lord knows the girl could use some decent female role models." Doug seemed to suddenly realize he had muttered that last sentence out loud and quickly cleared his throat. "Laborn's meeting later today to confirm the details, but honestly it was probably the best gift anyone could get him when he got out of the hospital."
"Do they know where she's setting up shop?" I politely ventured.
"Some place nearby. Don't have the address, but I doubt it'll be hard to find her once she settles in. Plus, only a few places in the area that I can see her using. Maybe the old studio on Grant street, or that little department store the Mayberrys used to own." That seemed to bring him down slightly. "Life's been draining out of the neighborhood over the years. Hope Garment will be good for this place."
I remembered Vince's words about what happened with developments at the Docks/Downtown border. I hoped Doug's optimism would be well placed.
The Alchemy constellation missed a connection as I glanced at Doug's new student. The blond boy looked 14 or 15 and was slowly shifting back to a healthier color with the help of half his water bottle and as much air as he could pull into his lungs.
"That one of the new signups?" I asked.
"Yeah, that's Theo." I felt a wave of recognition from my passenger at the name that caused me to quirk an eyebrow. Doug dropped his voice to a level that actually was unlikely to be heard across the gym. "Kid looks like pudding, but he's pushing through decently. Actually doing his training and showed up for a second lesson. Don't know if he'll make it, but he's doing better than most of the sightseers."
I nodded and turned back to Doug. "Mainly here to pick up my car. Wanted to ask, I know we don't have assigned parking or anything, but is it still good for me to use the lot overnight?"
"Don't worry about it. I'll make sure you have a space." He grinned. "Now I should probably get back before the kid thinks I'm going soft."
I smiled at that. "Hardly any chance of that."
Doug returned the grin and headed back towards the blond boy. The emotions I was getting from my passenger around him were generally positive, but also cautious. There was something going on there, though nothing that was raising immediate red flags. I wasn't getting the sense that he was a cape, but it was possible he was another case like Aisha. Potential trigger? Someone immediately important?
Okay, not immediately. Also, he was not THAT important. Nothing like the level of Taylor or Flechette. The main thing I was taking away was a lack of immediate concern. Given the day's schedule and other concerns I was willing to take that on faith, and slipped out of the gym and into my car.
The real estate company was located south of Downtown in a small business complex. There was an ample parking lot for visitors, but obviously I wasn't going to park there. There was also an inconsiderate lack of blind alleys and labyrinthine underground parking structures. I may have been a bit spoiled by the architecture of Brockton Bay.
Instead I found a strip mall a couple blocks away and consulted the mental blueprints of the city I had memorized thanks to my Engineer power allowing instant recall of plans. Combined with my computer throne and a somewhat generous interpretation of the digital access guidelines of the city archives I had the entire street layout and a good number of building floorplans in a mental database.
That was how I found a back-access door on a small restaurant currently closed for renovation. Well, actually closed for health code violations, but the first sounded better. The point was it wasn't likely to be used and provided Garment a clear shot to the real estate office.
Opening the door and dropping the hologram revealed Garment in a newly made fitted blazer, blouse, and skirt. The two things that stood out were the addition of the Dust weave pattern across the jacket and skirt, once again terrifyingly excessive unless she was expecting the need to drop a barrage of rock spears large enough to pass as support pillars, and her new boots.
The boots were even more excessive than the Dust weaving, even if they were the most conservative pair. I knew the base level of what those things were capable of, and was suddenly a lot less concerned about Garment making her own way through the city.
She did take a few moments to present the full outfit with just a hint of apprehension. I realized it was the first two-piece outfit she had personally worn, with everything else being some variety of dress or gown.
"You look great." I assured her. "I'll be standing by in case you need anything, and you have your phone?" She held up the hyper advanced scanner and communications device masquerading as a mid-range smartphone. "Great. You'll be fine, and I'll keep an eye on things from here."
Garment gave me a grateful touch on the arm before hurrying towards the company offices. I slipped back inside the Workshop, quickly checking on the status of my duplicates and their analysis.
They had packed away the duplicated tech and returned the original samples for comparative analysis before leaving for their 20% time. I took a moment to review the results while letting Survey monitor Garment's progress.
The results of the analysis had been fruitful, but not immediately useful. Bakuda's most advanced bombs would still be a challenge to replicate, and most of them were only worth considering against S-class threats. Frankly I would rather use Weaponsmith's stasis grenades with their limited duration than risk locking someone in a time bubble that might as well last for eternity. Bakuda's 'non-lethal' options were either torture devices or induced permanent disabilities and critical conditions. There was the possibility of incorporating the principles into other weaponry, but that was a design project I didn't currently have the time for.
Leet's work had been more encouraging. The items were intensely specialized, meaning they were incredibly difficult to deconstruct to their operational principles or even to the point where they could be recreated. That said, it was technology that actually had applications outside of a terrorist attack. The personal plasma shield had the potential to be a highly effective barrier against energy attacks, particularly once its critical defects were worked out. The 'Dragon Sword' was an incredible telekinetic engine built into what was frankly an idiotic application. Cracking that technology could allow for thrustless flight and incredibly precise maneuverability as well as any number of offensive applications.
It was actually Bakuda's less advanced devices that proved to be the most useful in terms of adaptations. The insane twists of technology it took to build a time stop device out of civilian level components was a nearly insurmountable obstacle. The methods Bakuda used to improve 'conventional' explosives were much easier to grasp and apply to my own work. Already I had a half dozen improvements planned for the weapon systems of both my Veritech and motoroid.
I shifted my attention back to Survey's link to Garment's phone. Garment had been able to enter the building without attracting too much attention, at least by Garment's standards, but her arrival in the lobby was causing something of a stir. The company was clearly trying to roll out the red carpet, so to speak, but with a guest who didn't eat, drink, or have any physical body most offers naturally came across as a bit lame. Eventually the hubbub died down and Garment was led into a conference room where the revised lease was presented.
The scanner in Garment's phone was powerful enough to instantly confirm all the required changes had been made, but obviously the company's representative wanted to go through it to ensure Garment knew everything was in order. When it became clear Garment wasn't able to convey enough detail for the discussion she brought out her phone and made a call.
And so, we progressed with Delphine Mertens' public debut. Survey was both excited and incredibly concerned about this development. I maintained a link to her as the call came through and hurried to the throne for a more direct connection. With my assurance, Survey answered the call and spoke her first words to the outside world.
"Hello, this is Delphine Mertens. How may I help you?" I slid into the neural connection as Survey processed the emulated voice she had specifically designed for this purpose. Every lesson she had processed on human interaction, tone, diction, and social graces was being pushed to their limit. The voice was distinct from the one she used with her hologram, carrying the kind of slight accent that was difficult to place, calculated to create the impression of someone who grew up in a multilingual environment.
"Hello Ms. Mertens. This is Sidney Winston from Bayshore Land Holdings." The representative from the company's legal department said towards the phone as Garment set it on the table. "We corresponded earlier today. I'm here with Garment and our head of sales, Phillip Mathews. We're going over the revisions to the lease and we just wanted to ensure all the changes were satisfactory before we finalized things for the studio."
"That sounds excellent. I have your latest copy of the document. We can go through them together. Garment, if it is alright with you I will confirm the changes before you go forward with the deal?" Survey replied. One of the men in the meeting was about to say something before a keyboard appeared on the phone's screen. After a moment of searching Garment typed the 'y' key and settled back into her seat. "Thank you Garment. Now where should we begin?'
The men exchanged a glance before picking up their own copies. "Well, first we should review the changes to the interior structure renovation policies…"
The conversation devolved into a dense exchange of legalese between Survey and the company's representatives. Survey had a beyond extensive database of impeccably analyzed legal guidelines to draw from, but still struggled with the phrasing of some of the concepts. I worked with her through the process, even after sending another pair of duplicates to begin the final prep work for Aisha's armor.
Fortunately, between her assumed name and accent most of her slip-ups were easily attributed to a language barrier issue and were met with good humor. Interestingly, it wasn't just a one-sided affair in terms of the exchange of legal information. Apparently, there were nuances to real estate law, particularly the way it was conducted within a city like Brockton Bay, that didn't relate perfectly to court precedent. With the rat's nest that was land law in a major city, disputes were commonly handled through arbitration rather than a court case, and as such documents were often prepared with that assumption.
Basically, Survey had been approaching things at the state and national level instead of the civic level. It was an enlightening experience for her, and she took the clarifications with good grace and interest. In general, she seemed to make a good impression on both of the company officers.
Finally, all disputes and potential pitfalls were resolved and they were able to move on to the signing. Well, not so much signing in Garment's case. Asking Garment to write her name involved an extended period of her shakily picking letters out on the page with a lack of grace completely alien to her character. Luckily, the Protectorate had worked with enough capes with similar difficulties to come up with another option while setting up her identity and finances.
Garment opened her beyond-designer purse and produced a bottle of ink and an incredibly fine piece of thread. Both of the officers leaned in to watch as the thread floated free of Garment's grasp and snaked through the black liquid. Ever so carefully it arranged itself into a precise pattern, pressed onto the signature line of the page.
The process was more like pattern dying than making a signature, but it was a unique and identifiable marking. A version of her label, only with the hands closed except for the index finger and thumb pointing out on each hand, angled left and right.
It was someone's idea of a joke. The American Sign Language symbol for the letter G, repeated twice. Garment Gloves.
There was a sense of elation at the conclusion of the deal, way too much for a property of this scale. Then again, how many capes actually rented places in this city? If we're talking in their own name, probably just Parian and members of New Wave. They extended their thanks to Garment and 'Ms. Mertens' before requesting a few pictures to commemorate the occasion.
Of course, once that started Garment was basically on fire. What I think was intended to be a few reference photos turned into a miniature fashion shoot. I let it go on for fifteen minutes before I sent a simple reminder text to her phone, causing her to finally depart the office.
Actual retrieval of Garment was a more challenging prospect. There was more attention and less cover. This part of 'Downtown' wasn't really downtown in any meaningful sense of the word, more a hybrid of urban and suburb with in a better state of repair than the Docks. It would have been a real challenge for someone without a magical elven cloak and inherent sense of the environment, the placement of security cameras, and the location and temperament of every person in the immediate area.
From an outside perspective Garment walked behind a bus shelter near a park and never walked out again. In reality she was secreted away through a utility hatch that was connected to a transformer vault, or would have been if not for the use of my Workshop key.
"Yes, you did wonderfully." I assured her. "You too." I said to Survey's hologram.
"I am pleased the endeavor was productive. Thank you for your assistance in the interaction." She replied, with Garment mirroring her gratitude.
"It's no problem, but I need to hurry back if we're going to make our appointment with Aisha and Mr. Laborn." I said quickly.
The hologram nodded. "Please make haste. We will await you here."
I smiled and sealed the door again. Sneaking out I felt ridiculous relying on a draping of fabric to hide me from the handful of people who had come out to see the cape in their neighborhood. There was clearly no need for concern. Despite the fact that I was well over six feet tall and covered in gray cloth nobody gave me a second look. Nobody gave me a first look. As long as I stayed unobtrusive I was more than invisible, I was unnoticed. It was the kind of power that would be so fun to play around with and so easy to abuse.
At least it got me back to my car without attention, and thus on the road to my semi-official parking space at the gym. When I pulled into the lot I saw Theo getting into a rather nice car being driven by someone with no family resemblance. I was kind of impressed he had stayed, presumably to practice, after a session with Doug. Then again, considering it was a session with Doug he may have just elected to take advantage of the borderline illegal water pressure in the gym showers to try to massage away the inevitable muscle pain.
Given the value of the car and the clear lack of relation of the person driving it there was clearly something up with Theo's home life. My passenger confirmed that there was definitely something up with Theo's home life. Once again, it confirmed there was nothing immediately pressing, meaning this was one mystery that could wait until the state of emergency was rescinded.
I locked my car and started making my way to the location of Garment's new shop/studio/boutique/lair when I felt the Forge make a connection to a larger mote from the Resources and Durability constellation. The power was called Mauler. It had nothing to do with mauling anything, but by its very nature it pissed me off on a fundamental level.
The reason for this was the overwhelming sense of 'where was this power when I was starting out?'. This was yet another recovery and refurbishment power. Scrapper, Junkyard Skills, and now Mauler. Any one of them would have been a godsend when I was struggling for resources. Now they mostly gave marginal utility and ensured access to resources that I was already drowning in.
Alright, that wasn't entirely fair. There was more to this power than just reusing scrap. The power did allow the restoration of the most damaged tech to full functionality. I already had a few powers with similar effects, but given that they compounded with each of the others, and this one could handle the refurbishment of equipment that had been damaged decades ago it was at least a potentially useful ability.
The second half of the power might actually still be able to see some real use. It was entirely focused on repurposing technology. That might not sound like much, but it's not repurposed in the sense of turning a toaster into a space heater. More turning a toaster into a flamethrower, or a pneumatic screwdriver into a cannon, or building a complete set of power armor out of abandoned mining equipment. It took base technology and allowed drastic improvements through modification and jury rigging.
Between this power and Scrapyard Skills letting me use a washing machine drum as a jet turbine I could probably tear apart a broken down car and end up with a stealth fighter. An advanced stealth fighter.
It wasn't impossible that opportunities to use this power would present themselves, but the ability to deploy my best technology with substandard materials didn't really compare to producing my best technology with infinite amounts of legendary materials. In the obscure case I needed to field tinker while separated from my workshop these powers would let me work to an incredible level. They just weren't that necessary when I already had all the parts and components I could want.
I set that aside as I approached the location Garment had just secured. I would have double-checked, but there was nothing else in the area that even looked remotely appropriate. It was about a block from the gym in the direction where the decay of the city was really starting to set in. A quick scan showed maybe three open businesses in the area, none of which looked particularly active. If Garment set up here she was going to be the premier location just based on lack of competition.
The building was located on the corner of the block and constituted a fair-sized building. I wasn't exactly sure what it had been originally. The weight of age had scrubbed off any identifying markings. A glance through the windows didn't provide any illumination on the matter. I could see an entry room of some sort with an open space behind it. My mind kept jumping towards the idea of a studio, though for the life of me I couldn't figure out what it would have been used for.
An evaluation showed there was some additional space behind the building, including an alley, at least allowing delivery access. There was a second story to the building, meaning there was possibly an apartment or additional office or storage space available. The space wasn't labeled for any purpose on the floorplans provided by the real estate company and obviously hadn't been occupied for some time.
The front of the building was its most distinguishing feature. There was a kind of art deco style to its design, with bold geometric lines evident and finer details where they had survived the years. Looking around there was a fair bit of that style present in the area. I wasn't sure about the timeline of that kind of design, but I would guess it was a little outdated at the time these places were built. That did mean it had a more defined look than some of the stuff you got from that period, and frankly any kind of consistent architecture in the Docks was remarkable.
Taken as a whole rather than, you know, a hole, as the Docks were usually regarded, I could see the potential of this kind of neighborhood. Not sure the character would survive if things started to turn around, and then there were all of Vince's concerns still floating around in the back of my mind. Once again, I could file those away as a concern for later. Right now I needed to get Garment settled in and start trying to get a handle on things before they went completely out of control.
The results of Survey's further analysis weren't any more encouraging. Expanding data sources to conventional media and any publicly accessible data sources, plus anything that could be passively discerned from non-intrusive system monitoring allowed a picture to start to come together. There was an uncomfortable suspicion that the previous night's lack of offensive actions may have been due to another conscription push. I didn't have enough data to confirm it yet, but the signs were there. The same kind of disruptions in behavior that could be seen leading up to the Saturday attacks were present, in a form. It was hard to draw clear conclusions with this kind of analysis and this level of data to work with.
That said, it wasn't something I was willing to take chances on. I would probably need to look into any form of expanded surveillance that I could be secure with, or even just what I could live with the risk of deploying. More recruitments meant Bakuda was back in full form. It meant they were preparing for something big, and it meant even more people at the mercy of her bombs and dead man's switch.
Normally I would be worried about improvements to the implanted bombs and their trigger mechanism, but my technical skills had expanded so much since my last round of surgeries that unless Bakuda accidentally became an avatar of some smith god or something like that I think I'd be able to handle it. The main problem was finding the victims and managing the work without Bakuda triggering the bomb to catch the patient and surgeon.
Once again back in the dilapidated comfort of the Docks there were blind alleys to spare and getting workshop access was trivially simple. Garment greeted me warmly when I dropped the illusion concealing the entrance, and Survey's hologram was still waiting by the door. I returned the greeting.
"Left at the alley mouth and at the end of the block. You remember the way from yesterday?" Garment indicated that she did and quickly hurried out of the workshop, making a series of complicated gestures as she did. I was able to at least piece together the general meaning.
"I'll circle round once you're inside. The front is too obvious. Meet you at the back entrance?" I asked. She quickly confirmed before checking the set of keys she received in the package from the leasing company.
I let her get clear of the alley way before sealing the workshop again and fishing out my cloak. Another benefit of the magical nature of this kind of clothing was the fact that they felt completely normal when worn, but could fold up like a silk sheet. I was able to keep the entire thing in a jacket pocket and have it unfurl without a single crease.
Using divinely empowered concealment magic bound to enchanted cloth by a demigod was a little excessive when all I was doing was sneaking two alleys over to the back door of an unused studio. It may have been a bit much, but it wasn't like I was making any serious expenditure by using it. I had amassed a lot of power to pull off something this trivial, and I was going to damn well enjoy it.
At the back door I could feel Garment through the Dragon's Pulse, somewhere near the front entrance. I was fairly sure she had just gone inside and was moving through the front room. Checking I saw the back door was locked, bolted, and secured with a bar. I think this place may have been half an inch from being written off at one point, and the main concern of the owner seemed to have been discouraging squatters rather than any type of building maintenance.
It was an impressive amount of security. It was also completely meaningless to me. Pin and tumbler locks had been trivial to me for over a week, and the level or triviality had only grown since then. Back then I'd been at the 'any two pieces of metal' lockpick stage. Now I was wondering if I should try to pick them without tools, or if I could get the locks to open using only thermal manipulation from my pyrokinesis.
Apparently I had considered too long because Garment made her way to the back door and promptly opened it with her owner's keys. I felt a little petulant about being cheated of the artificial challenge of breaking into Garment's new business, but took her welcome with good grace and entered the 'store' as the Magic constellation passed by.
Well, there was some work to do. The best I could say was that it was mostly clear and somewhat clean. The power wasn't connected, so that would need to be dealt with one way or the other. A quick overview confirmed Garment's shop at least had water. The rough layout was the entry room, larger studio type space, then the mess of back rooms that seemed to be half storage and half offices, plus a pair of small bathrooms that needed some work.
Downstairs had a pitch-black cellar clearly intended for storage and one I wouldn't want to try to navigate without thermal vision and the Dragon's Pulse letting me cheat. From the scent lingering in the dark I was willing to bet some small amount of water damage had happened at some point and been inexpertly repaired.
The upper floor was more encouraging. The place was laid out as either an administrative area or possibly an apartment, depending on how you wanted to play it. It had a single bathroom that may have had a shower at one point, but that was stripped out. A kitchen area that was somewhere between a small apartment kitchen and the kind of break rooms you find in offices. No appliances of any sort were present in the building, and we were probably lucky there were still lightbulbs in some of the fixtures.
Garment was instantly and obviously in love with the place and was already drafting plans for renovations and redesigns. I was more concerned with how much tinker tech I'd be able to sneak into a place like this without inviting unpleasant questions, or whether I could spontaneously transmute the entire interior in one go before anyone knew what it really looked like. Actually, maybe I could expand that to the entire building? Entire block? Really, how much of the Docks would I be able to renovate with alchemical transmutations before you would say it was too far?
I shook off that admittedly appealing but ridiculous notion and chased down Garment in the studio. "Okay, the place is reasonably secure. No bugs or surveillance devices, even though that was a remote chance. I want to do some mundane security upgrades before you really settle in, just as a precaution. Anything I can help you with before that?"
Garment made an excited gesture and indicated towards one of her sketches. It showed an arrangement of clothing displayed through the studio space. It seemed like a nice idea for future projects, but when I didn't respond she began specifically tapping particular items in the sketch. With that the penny finally dropped.
"Your first set of clothing? From the storage locker? You want them here?" She made an excited gesture. I checked the time and bit my lip.
"I'm not sure I can make it before Aisha and Mr. Laborn get here." I watched as her stance drooped. "But I'll try." I promised.
Garment made an excited little hop and began sweeping around the studio. Cloth was summoned from nowhere. Well, specifically cloth was summoned from the giant pile of gold Garment had been gifted by multiple duplicates, transformed via her conversion power, but it looked like it was summoned from nowhere. The cloth was spun into window treatments, wall hangings, and other little touches that were quickly transforming the barren space into something positively elegant.
It just needed some merchandise, but that would be up to me. Garment could probably easily remake everything she had put into storage, but those were her first works. I fully understood the affection you could have for an early project, even if it had been completely eclipsed. That said, Garment's early work was still at the pinnacle of human accomplishment where my own treasures of freshman crafting consisted of an ill-fitting steel bracer and an electrified metal baton.
So I slipped out through the back of the studio, found another blind alley, accessed my garage, converted my motoroid to civilian mode, and took off for the storage center I had visited less than a week and also a lifetime ago.
I had pulled out onto the street when I realized I was running down the last thirty minutes of my muscle-reducing potion. I had enough time to make it to the storage center and made a note to renew it there. Fortunately, it didn't take nearly that long to reach my destination. Traffic was never that terrible in the Docks, so past any lunch rush the roads were mostly clear.
The trip also wasn't entirely frivolous. Survey's analysis of the ABB situation was progressing, but the limited data was proving to be an obstacle. Even passive observation of EM transmissions in the city wasn't providing a full picture, particularly when limited to what I could pull from my miniaturized omni-tool watch. My motoroid had a much more powerful sensor suite than my personal equipment and Fleet was able to operate it as a mobile scanner and listening post to feed information to Survey upon our return.
The mundane nature of opening Garment's business was a stark contrast with the possibility of a mounting ABB attack. That said, it was actually nice to help her with something this important. The second location was already a blessing in terms of access and operational range, and it provided a cover for meeting Aisha to finalize her armor. I just hoped I could make it back in time to get ahead of that particular project.
When I pulled into the yard I found the storage site just as I remembered it. There was a different guard watching the front, but he had the same bored and indifferent expression as the last one. Just the sight of a locker key was enough to get him to wave me in without any meaningful concern. I pulled my bike as close as I could before crossing the final distance to Garment's storage locker. There, cuddled inside like a pile of sleeping kittens, was the assembly of her overprotected wardrobe. Wrapped in garment bags and then five more layers of protection it was an impressive array, and proved something of a trial to shift across the hall to a door I opened to my Workshop.
Luckily there were more than enough drones willing to take them off my hands as soon as they crossed the threshold. With their help it only took a few minutes to empty the locker. A drone helpfully handed me a fresh muscle-reducing potion before I sealed the workshop, closed the locker, and headed back to my motoroid.
At that point I was basically free to cancel the locker rental or just let the time run down. Neither would draw any meaningful attention in this city. The place had served its purpose of holding spillover storage while my workshop was still a, well, a workshop, rather than an extradimensional island nation.
I checked the time on my way back. Assuming Mr. Laborn wasn't early I should be able to make it. Mr. Laborn was the type of person to be early, but he would also be with Aisha. Aisha was not the type of person to be early. She was more the 'I'll get there when I get there' type. I was willing to bet they averaged out to roughly on-time.
I pulled into a nearby alley and, rather than waste the time opening my workshop, storing the bike, and sealing everything again I decided to try out a feature I built just for this purpose.
A thought brought a gray blur to my left hand that settled into the black metal band of my collapsed lantern shield. I reached out with my rough control of my magicka pool, channeling the energy into the magitek converter built into the shield. The energy fed the simulated cybertonium relay and resonated across transwarp space, connecting with my specific dimensional pocket.
My bike began to glow, first softly, then brighter. The glow began to fade, taking the body of the bike but, leaving white lines highlighting each edge of the vehicle, with a final push the framework vanished and my motoroid transferred fully into my subspace storage pocket.
I had done it. The process had taken nearly my entire magicka pool, but it was refilling quickly. It actually felt good to stress that energy source, like working out a stiff muscle. I wondered if there was any benefit to using it more? Something to investigate later.
Always later.
I slipped into the back entrance of Garment's business and was quickly greeted by her with a series of excited gestures. Those quickly shifted to ecstatic gestures as I opened my Workshop in one of the back rooms and she was greeted by a fleet of drones, mostly controlled by Survey, holding her carefully wrapped early wardrobe.
All of it. Even the hats that had bedecked my cyber skulls. I don't think I'll ever forget that.
Garment wasted no time as the entire collection floated out of the workshop and into the shop-shop. Some kind of exchange with Survey resulted in the drones fetching hangers and clothes racks from her workspace in the textile area.
I did what I could to help with the transfer, including bringing out some of the more basic furniture to help with the meeting. To avoid the intensity of design that followed all of my work I had to dig out items that were either assembled by the A.I.s or came with my workshop. It certainly added to the improvised feel of the setup, which was probably for the best. Garment would be able to make them work from a design context, and her suddenly having professional furniture within half an hour of moving in would raise unnecessary warning signs.
I watched her carefully arrange her creations until I felt a pair of life signs approaching the front door.
Right on time, averaged out just as I thought.
I signaled to Garment before slipping back into the back room and then further into the Workshop. A signal from my implant activated the defensive hologram, effectively sealing the Workshop. I retreated deeper into my pocket dimension while monitoring Garment through her phone's sensors. It gave me a perfect view of Garment greeting Aisha and Mr. Laborn.
From what she had said during my earlier call, my guess was Aisha had hunted through the collection Garment had provided trying to find something that would annoy her father the way her previous wardrobe used to. It seemed the best she had been able to find was a moderately contoured pencil dress in dark red with a high neckline and a blue jacket over it. The glint of diamonds from her hair clip complemented the ensemble incredibly well, making it look slightly sophisticated.
Alltogether the combination didn't have anything like the inappropriate feeling of her earlier outfit with the only parallel being that it was vaguely form-fitting. It actually made her look somewhat mature rather than like a little girl trying to dress above her age level. Given the way her father occasionally smiled at her and the expression it triggered each time I'm guessing the effort was unsuccessful.
Mr. Laborn looked more worn down than I had ever seen him. He was holding a cane that he seemed to resent with each step, and was still sporting a collection of hospital bandages. The phone's sensor was able to show me his physical makeup, giving me a guided tour of his injuries. They weren't great, but at least they were healing. I could tell they would have been much worse with any additional aggravation, or if Aisha had been any slower getting him to the hospital.
The detailed physical makeup of the living human body being displayed brought up flashes of insight from my last iteration of Valuable Memories. The dark side of biology reared its head in forbidden knowledge. Dozens of small and not so small changes jumped out at me, all of which could be implemented with trivial ease. Harder bones, tougher skin, more efficient blood, lungs that could extract every bit of oxygen, leaving no waste in each breath.
But that wouldn't be the end of it. The creation of chimeras was a process. Small upgrades provided the foundation for larger ones until the person was nothing but a construction frame for your latest monster. I bit down and pushed aside thoughts of biological transhumanism. I would never not know those things, but I could control how I used them. Skills: Physical Sciences opened the door to a world of chemical and biological weapons, but also the means to help millions of people. Creation of Chimeras wasn't quite as generous, but I could still control how I used it. I could dig through that mess and find a way to help people without turning into a worse monster than the ones I could create.
Mr. Laborn shifted the cane to his left hand and greeted Garment with a meaty handshake. He was putting on a good front, but meeting her seemed to have sent him slightly off balance. I saw a bit of that at her debut. People used to eye contact have a bit of trouble adjusting to reading her simulated body language. Garment could probably have addressed that issue by designing an eye mask, but my guess was she was more committed to the coherency of her outfits than concerned with fully simulating human behavior. If she did decide to make a mask it would probably be some incredibly elaborate, historically accurate, immaculately designed Venetian carnival mask with an entire outfit to match.
I felt the Forge shift again as Garment led the pair into the studio and began showing off her early works. It was the Magitech constellation, a constellation composed almost entirely of giant motes on the same scale of Master Craftsman. I had so few connections to the constellation because I never managed to amass enough reach at the times when it arrived.
Until now. The mote I connected to was smaller than the giants, being roughly the same size as Master Builder. It was called Technosorcery and was everything I had been waiting for in terms of Magitech. Mechanist had given me basic principles of converting magical energy into a mechanical form. Setup Wizard had let me meld technology with magic, removing any incompatibility issues as well as letting my higher-level technology see the benefits of magical effects that would otherwise only apply to more basic items. Technosorcery completely tore down the barriers between the concepts of magic and technology.
The insight granted by this power was incredible. It all came down to one simple principle. Energy was energy, whether generated by science or sorcery. What had previously seemed like critical incompatibility issues were suddenly opportunities of incredible potential. Magic and technology could feed into each other, working like components of any machine. Conversion of power from one form to another was much easier than I had ever imagined, and provided the ability to create works of staggering power and efficiency.
Wherever one system failed or reached its limits the other could step in to take over. Using this knowledge spells could be broadcast over electronic communication, the very essences of creatures could be affected through medical techniques, and entire realms of creation were possible within digital environments.
The process was like what I had been scratching at with the Arcane Craft, only taken from an obscure artform to a fully reputable science. Arcane Craft still had the advantage of being able to work with any form of 'mysterious forces' while Technosorcery was limited to manipulation of magic, but in exchange for that specialization Technosorcery granted a depth of applications that was staggering.
I was pulled away from my contemplation by dual messages, one set from my duplicates acknowledging the power and clarifying that they would be doubling down to incorporate it into Aisha's armor, and a second from Survey, bringing my attention to the conclusion of Garment's brief tour and the beginning of the 'negotiation' part of the meeting. I elected to head to the computer throne to both assist with the last-minute armor redesign and better monitor the discussion in the outside world.
I would have been a lot more apprehensive if Doug hadn't announced Mr. Laborn's intentions with his usual level of discretion. Even with all my power, even with assurances that Garment could handle herself, even with everything I'd been through and everything I was preparing for, there was something about Mr. Laborn that was just innately intimidating. The man had presence, and his injured state did nothing to diminish it. I knew full well how protective he could get, and without confirmation that he was actually on board for this I would probably have been sweating bullets on Garment's behalf.
Garment couldn't have been more comfortable in the situation. The three of them had settled into a trio of chairs near one of the studio windows, given the current lack of powered lighting in the building.
I needed to check if there was some requirement about needing an electric utility connection for a business like this. I could easily hook Garment up with any of a thousand off-grid power options that would completely bypass her electrical issues. Given Survey's recent foray into the Legal system I kicked the problem over to her and began working on Armor designs while keeping an open link to Garment's phone.
"Before we start, I want to say how impressed I am by what you did on Saturday night." Mr. Laborn began. "That was a madhouse and anyone willing to step up in a situation like that has my respect." He glanced at Aisha and she turned away with a huff while trying to conceal a slight smile.
Garment made an appreciative gesture and Mr. Laborn took a moment to process it before continuing. "I also appreciate what you're trying to do here. Setting up in the neighborhood will mean a lot to the people here. That said, I want to get a clear picture of what you're doing before I make a decision regarding Aisha working here."
Garment made a series of complicated gestures to the shop, the space around them, Aisha, and the assortment of clothes. Mr. Laborn's expression grew more confused, but he seemed to be working to keep it from tipping into frustration. Aisha tried to jump in.
"Garment said, well, you know, that she needed some help, and maybe work with clothes?" The girl offered.
Mr. Laborn gave a slow nod. "I can understand that, but what kind of work? What hours? What is the environment going to be like?" He looked at Garment and seemed to realize how unlikely it would be to get a clear answer on any of those points. The constrained frustration seemed to be bubbling up again when Garment pulled out her phone and entered a few commands.
I hadn't expected this, but it made perfect sense to fall back on what had already been established. I extended my support to Survey as she linked to Garment's phone.
"Good afternoon, this is Delphine Mertens, Garment's legal advisor." Mr. Laborn blinked at the phone before replying.
"Hello, this is Marcus Laborn here with my daughter Aisha." Aisha looked confused before glancing down at her watch. Her eyebrows rose and she looked back at the phone with a smile.
"It is nice to speak with you. Garment had mentioned you would be meeting today. I am sorry I cannot be there in person, but if it is alright with you, I can walk you through Garment's proposal."
Aisha's smile widened a little at the 'in person' comment, but thankfully her father didn't notice. "Yes, thank you. That would be fine."
"In the interest of full disclosure, the scope and nature of Garment's operation has not yet been finalized. The location was only recently secured and the development and registration of her business is still ongoing. Until that point Garment will at most be operating in the capacity of personal contract work on a client-by-client basis, likely with extremely low volume." Survey explained through the phone.
"I can understand that, but can you clarify what Aisha will be doing, at least generally speaking?" Mr. Laborn asked.
"I am sure you are aware of Garment's communication difficulties. As such, it is essentially necessary for some assistance to be present during most of her interactions. There is the possibility of more official help to be brought on at a later date, but until then Aisha would be responsible for some light customer service work and general assistance with the studio. Hours would of course be subject to New Hampshire regulations, and before the start of any form of employment we would need to completion of Employer's Request for Child Labor form to be approved by Aisha's school or the district's superintendent's office. That will allow the issuing of RSA 276-A:5 youth certificate permitting her employment."
"I'm familiar with the regulations." He replied and looked at his daughter. "Aisha is between schools at the moment, since she was planning to move in with her brother. I'll check with her social worker regarding how to handle things." Aisha looked absolutely mortified at that, an expression that clashed horribly with the professionalism of her clothing. Her father just smiled. "Honestly, with all the clothes Garment provided I thought she wanted Aisha as a model."
If Aisha was mortified before she looked ready to crawl into herself at her father's statement. Garment's obvious excitement at the idea didn't help, though it brought a smile to Mr. Laborn's face as various outfits began lifting from the racks around the room.
"I cannot speak to that at this time. Modeling work of any sort would require additional oversight when involving someone Aisha's age. The provided clothing should be considered as a staff uniform, and I will ensure it is categorized as such." Survey clarified.
"That's very generous." He replied frankly. It was, and would probably be more so once Garment started work and her clothing had a clear monetary value attached to it. "As a final, and serious point, I want to talk about safety." He looked at his daughter and a hand rose to one of the bandages on the back of his neck. "I appreciate what Garment did on Saturday, but I know what capes are like in this city. That's not the kind of environment I want Aisha exposed to."
The irony of the situation was heavy as Survey processed a response. "Garment has elected not to apply for Protectorate membership and will be remaining outside of the current conflicts. Beyond actions to ensure her own security and crisis situations there are no plans for wider involvement in the local parahuman conflicts."
It wasn't the perfect answer since those kinds of conflicts rarely cared about what anyone's specific plans were. That said, nobody in the city was truly safe from the conflict, and a position near a dedicated neutral party with the capacity to protect themselves was probably safer than being one of the undefended masses. Mr. Laborn's slow nod seemed to indicate his agreement with the concept.
The Time constellation passed by as Mr. Laborn gave his decision. "Well, I have no objections at the moment. Aisha, you're still interested in this?"
The girl nodded. "I mean, Garment's great, and I think this would be a good thing, like, in general?"
Mr. Laborn gave her a soft look, then nodded to Garment. "In that case, where do we go from here?"
"If you do not mind, I can handle the correspondence regarding Aisha's paperwork and approvals. If you can provide me with a set of contact information I will forward you all necessary details and forms that will need to be completed."
I smiled and shifted my focus back to the power armor designs being laid out through my neural link to a supercomputer as Mr. Laborn worked out the final details for the employment of a world-class stranger cape to an animated pair of gloves by negotiating with a developing A.I. through a quantum entanglement communicator. Just another day in the life of a cape.
Despite the end of the call the end of the meeting dragged out, with Mr. Laborn's insistence that he didn't need Garment to make him any clothing falling on deaf, and honestly completely non-existent, ears. His staunch refusal probably saved him from leaving with three suitcases of clothes, but he did eventually accept a sharp, fitted blazer matching the one she had made for Doug at the end of her debut.
With Survey no longer involved in the call she presented her analysis regarding ABB activity. It was enough to convince me there was something definitely in the works. Reluctantly I approved the use of the Undersiders' watches as remote sensor nodes, limited to electronic communication only.
Yes, I could spy on them whenever I wanted, but that was the kind of advantage that was easy to ruin with careless abuse. Tattletale would certainly know, and it would take more than the technology in those watches to get some of the Undersiders to accept constant listening devices in their lives. The records were limited to their own devices until a situation dire enough to justify access emerged.
Just using them as a remote radio listening station was a lot less morally suspect, and could potentially give Survey the edge she needed to nail down the ABB's plans. In the meantime, my latest duplicates were finishing their 20% time and Aisha had sent a message announcing that she had parted ways with her father. She was going 'shopping' while he caught up with the guys at the gym.
I disconnected from the computer core and rushed to complete the final prep work without infringing on my duplicates' final gasp as personal time. I assembled the materials, canceled the strength drain potion, amassed my tools and, just before Aisha's return, renewed the duplication potion.
I also downed a frantically prepared meal, as I hadn't eaten since breakfast. The power of near-divine food was evident in the fact that it hadn't bothered me and I was only eating out of habit, but with food that was that good and empowering it was worth squeezing in a divine sandwich when I got the chance.
I polished off the turkey club of the gods as Survey directed Aisha to the back entrance of Garment's studio. Just having access to something like that was already a blessing beyond words. Garment was waiting to greet her as she arrived and escorted the girl to an empty utility closet. It flickered as the hologram was dispelled, revealing the Workshop's entrance way.
"Jozef?" The girl asked, staring at me. I awkwardly tried to shift my stance to something less obvious, but given the lack of an off switch the combination of posing and muscles would probably always be overly pronounced.
"Hi Aisha." I offered. "Welcome back. You ready for that armor?"
"Hell yeah." She beamed, then glanced back. "Garment going to be alright?"
I stepped to the side to allow the latest delivery of clothing, equipment, and materials to be carried up from Garment's workspace.
"I've already gone through the designs with her. She'll be fine up here." Garment signaled agreement with my statement as she sorted the latest arrivals. My attempts to keep the exchange minimal was probably the only thing keeping heavy machinery from being installed in the basement. There would be questions about how she pulled this off, but she was Garment. People could wonder as much as they wanted and she would probably enjoy the speculation.
"Come on." I turned and signaled for Aisha to follow me. When we moved into the larger workshop Aisha whistled and looked up at the throne.
"Damn this place is impressive. You forget being away from it, but hot damn." She remarked. I shrugged in response.
"I've kind of been too busy to really appreciate it. I think my duplicates have gotten more downtime in here than I have." I confessed.
"Damn shame." She looked around again. "You should try to live it up a bit, I mean once things calm down."
"Increasingly distant prospect, that." Aisha's face dropped. "But I promise. As soon as I'm done out there I'll take a full weekend of lava surfing and volcano sports."
The girl quirked the corners of her mouth at that, then took another look around. "Where are we headed, anyway?"
"Main wing of the workshop is basically a six-layer cake of every kind of equipment you could need. Not all top tier…"
"Yeah, I don't know how you manage with this junk." She quipped, looking around at the gleaming chrome and cyberpunk-level equipment.
"…top tier by my standards, but there's a bit of everything here, including a site dedicated to hard suit production." I continued my explanation.
"Hey," She asked. "How come you never did the power armor thing? I mean, outside of the Transformer motorcycle?"
I frowned as she continued poking at that ridiculous connection, but moved to offer an explanation. "So, you know how my powers are kind of all over the place, right?"
"Yeah, demigod wizard elf cyberneticist mech pilot. Standard tinker stuff." She replied with a grin.
"Right. So, the very first power I got, after the workshop? It had nothing to do with tinkering. Was actually called Fashion."
"That how you met Garment?" She raised an eyebrow as she asked.
"No, that came later." I explained as we walked. "What it does it takes the defensive properties of the best equipment I'm wearing, as long as it's at least the size of a knee pad of something, and applies them to my body and clothing."
"Wait, so if you have a piece of steel on you, you're suddenly bulletproof?" Her eyes were wide as she spoke.
"That's about the size of it. Of course, I'm using much better stuff than steel now. Enchanted adamantium mithril alloys infused with additional effects." I smiled. "And layered for better coverage."
"Jesus." She gasped. "So, you got brute day one, only without the strength?" I nodded. "So how tough are you now?"
I shrugged. "Tough enough that I only really need to worry about the weird stuff out there. Your armor was actually a bit of a challenge because I really haven't needed to build protective suits before this point."
"You can still do it, right?"
"Of course." I replied, almost offended. "I have an entire damn facility for this stuff, and we've been prepping and upgrading for days. And I'm sorry about that. If I had the gear ready to go I could have gotten you something same-day."
Aisha tried to look upset, but couldn't hold back a smile. "It's okay. I know you're only human, give or take fifty percent."
I gave her a sour look as we entered the hard suit bay. My duplicates were already floating around making final adjustments and securing the crafting components.
"Nice." She said, looking at the assembled technology. "So, is this like a fitting, or what?"
"Hey, you think we came this far without knowing your measurements?" The first duplicate called.
"Right, try to sound creepier to the thirteen-year-old girl we lured into our basement." The second called back.
"Hey, knock it off you two." I called out in moderately good humor. "And it was scans and Garment's help for the fitting. One of her powers is knowing people's sizes."
"Makes sense. So, if not fitting, what is this for?" She inquired.
"I need to get your input on the final details for the subsystems and customizations, movement boosters, integrated equipment and weaponry, and also a secondary focusing mechanic we're working into it." She looked at me blankly. "What? What did you think this armor was going to be?"
"Uh, power armor? You know, stop bullets and make you stronger? What's all that other stuff?" She sounded both excited and unsure of herself as she responded.
I took a breath and led her to one of the displays. "Okay, you know how I said you were getting the good power armor?"
"Yes?" She ventured.
"That means good by my standards." I watched as the implications sank in. Her eyes jumped across the work area, then back to the rest of the workshop, then up towards the volcano.
"Um, how good?" She asked in a wavery voice.
I grinned. I really didn't get a lot of opportunities to show off, at least outside of combat, and that was mostly completely unintentional. My duplicates leaned in as they continued to work, clearly enjoying Aisha's reactions as well.
"So, first off, the armor part of the power armor." I began, pulling up an image of a piece of plating. "This is the main armor plating of the suit. It's enhanced mithril infused with the thermal resistance of high grade ceramite and precipitated with wind Dust, meaning it basically weighs less than cloth while being a near perfect heat shield and almost indestructible." The screen shifted. "Framework is mithril infused with adamantium and gravity dust. Incredibly sturdy, and protective against anything that would wrench at the plating. Additional materials are composites to take advantage of flexibility, but the entire suit is contained and protective."
"Right." Aisha said, nodding vacantly. "So, in normal person talk, how tough is it?"
I considered, then smiled. "Stay out of Behemoth's kill aura and you'll be fine."
The girl gaped at me. "Endbringer? This can take Endbringers?"
"It can stand up to Endbringers. Like me you still have to worry about weird cape attacks. Also, there's the whole inertia thing where if you're sent flying your brain can mush against your skull on impact no matter how tough the suit is."
"Got it, it's not invinci…"
"Which is why I added this." I shifted the screen to a familiar device, a smaller version of the one my motoroid was built around. "Mass effect core. Manipulates effects related to weight, gravity and inertia. The inertial dampeners built into the suit should be able to keep you safe through most of the accelerations you're likely to see, including sudden impacts."
Aisha blinked and nodded. "Uh, how much stuff is in this suit? I mean, I appreciate it, but you said it's going to take a while to learn, and if you've really gone all out…"
"Accounted for." She gave me a confused look as the Toolkits constellation passed by. "One of the powers I got is this kind of mental database of weapons and armor. Like, thousands of years of it." She nodded and I continued. "One of the types of armor is this thing called a hunting rig, basically it's designed to let you operate for months without resupply. The big thing is the systems adapt to the wearer." I pulled up some of the designs entered in the computer core by my duplicate. "They start out basic and unlock features as the user's skill with the suit expands. Basically, it'll let you work up to the more advanced features of the armor."
"Right…" Aisha stared blankly at the suits on the screen. "Uh, they don't look like that, do they?"
I glanced up and quickly understood her reaction. The suits in their default designs were overbuilt and edgy on a level that even my lantern shield would be pained to match. "No, I just used the technology. The main design of your suit is based on this lab's hard suit designs."
"Oh, good, I just…" Aisha trailed off again as I brought up the full model of her hard suit. She was staring again, but with a very different expression on her face. "Uh, I have some questions?"
"Go ahead."
"So…" she darted her eyes across the design, seeming to try to figure out where to start. "Okay, I was worried you were going to do something bulky or kiddy, but obviously not that case."
"Hard suits are designed for mobility. Given the durability and low weight of the plating it was the best option." I assured her.
"Mobility." She looked at the bottom of the image. "About that mobility, I kind of need to ask, what's with the heels?"
I blinked, then looked at elevated heels built into the hard suit's legs. "They hold the stabilization arrays, as well as control thrusters and balance systems for jump boost and flight arrays."
"And you seriously need… Wait, flight?" I nodded and her eyes widened. "Um, you seriously need heels for that?"
I gestured at the screen again, causing the main suit to explode into a thousand diagrams. "This is a composite project. We've been pulling from every knowledge base and tech repository in our power. You get all kinds of little touches like that that just happened to be the best option for the design."
Aisha nodded slowly. "Yeah, but how did YOU end up…" She paused, then turned towards the entrance. "Did Garment work on this?"
"We ran the designs past her while we were developing them." One of the duplicates called out. "She greenlit this system in particular."
"Look, if it bothers you I can take it out, design a new casing." I pulled up the plans and started sorting out the affected subsystems. "I really didn't think it would be that big a deal. I mean, I know it's a bit out there, but with the rest of the tech, and Garment's designs…"
"No, it's fine." She looked over the plans again. "And it does look nice, it was just surprising." She bit her lip slightly. "You're sure those won't be unstable? I'm actually not that good in heels."
"Aisha, with those gyroscope systems it's practically impossible for you to misstep." I assured her. "It is as stable as it gets."
"Right." She looked over the design again, then nodded. "So, what else did you cram in there?"
I bit down and saw both of my duplicates work to suppress the plethora of responses my Inexplicable Innuendo provided to that particular phrase, and instead dove into the technical descriptions.
"Defense. Hardened plating and framework also uses an energetic armor, which means waste energy is used to reinforce its strength even further."
"It needs that?" Aisha asked skeptically.
"Not particularly." I admitted. "But it's better than a heat sink and lets the armor control its surface temperature, meaning it can match it to your surroundings and hide you from thermal cameras. Power source is a refined enhanced ragnite engine, which usually needs significant radiators to function, but this bypasses the problem."
"Nice. Do you use that in your bike armor?"
I shook my head. "That system still uses a magitek core for direct system power. It has its own benefits, but will probably be due for a full overhaul soon."
Aisha looked a little awkward at that admission. "Uh, thanks for focusing on this suit. I really appreciate you making it a priority."
The sincerity of her statement threw me off slightly, so I shifted to focus on the plans. "No problem. So, besides armor you also have the power field, kinetic barrier, and charged EM array, so three types of forcefields. Suit has full life support, and is self-sealing in the unlikely event anything can damage it. Materials provide extensive radiation resistance and the EM barrier will address the rest."
"So, Behemoth-grade?" She asked.
I nodded. "Outside the kill aura, at least." I pulled up another screen. "Full sensor system, best I can make. Internal processors are optical augmented by some new designs from that armor database, which will let you run the assist program."
"Will that be Survey? Like the watch?"
I shook my head. "Truncated version of Fleet. He was originally designed to help me learn to control vehicles, so he was able to produce an armor assistance program. It can also interface with the copy of Survey on your omni-watch."
"Which we'll need back from you." One of the duplicates called from his work.
"What? Why?" Aisha spun and looked at them with concern.
"Upgrades." I explained. "Need to install some recent technology. Will give you a personal forcefield even without the armor." And a better one than the Undersiders had.
Aisha seemed to relax until the second duplicate spoke up. "Plus need to add the Heretical Adaptation."
Aisha blink, looked at me and asked directly. "The. What?"
I sighed. "Okay, I was getting to this. Recent power, based on this complex matter/energy theory. Basically, I can alter materials to give them adaptive properties, meaning things made from them can improve themselves over time."
Aisha took a moment to process things. "So, your technology, which already lasts, like, forever, also gets better over time?" I nodded. "Holy shit that has to be your most ridiculous power."
"Careful, that's a really high bar." The first duplicate quipped. "I mean, two powers before it we got the ability to summon Satan."
Aisha stared at the duplicate, then slowly rotated to face me. I found myself wondering why I decided to do this project with people who didn't need to live with the consequences of their actions. "There was an alchemy power that was mostly charms, potions, and enhanced weapons. It did also come with certain rituals that can have effects that are in line with conceptions of dark magic. That said, none of them actually summon Satan."
"Really?" Asked the second duplicate. "What about Walpurgisnacht?"
I gave him a dirty look. "SOME of them can bring into existence powerful creatures, some of which are of significant levels of threat, but there is no theological basis…" I saw the look my duplicates were giving me and decided to just give up. "Fine. Yes, demon summoning is a thing now."
Aisha looked at a loss for words and like she wasn't sure if she should be apprehensive or sympathetic. Finally, a smile crept back on her face and she looked up at me.
"Man, you really are a seriously hardcore Blake Thorburn fan."
I looked at her expression and snorted, causing her to laugh in return. "Hey, at least nobody stole my name from a sheet of homework."
"Watch it, that was the best plot line in the series." She scolded before smiling again. "So, any other crazy powers I should know about?"
I sighed and accepted that my duplicates would happily blurt out anything I missed. "Okay, more powerful as a demigod, and have pyrokinesis because of it. Can work a lot faster than before and with less materials, but that's more of an advancement than anything new. Bunch of new design powers that make stuff look even better. My power gave me a transforming space-capable fighter jet a while back. Oh, and I was taken by the fey and taught how to make beyond perfect divine items as long as I use my own hands to do it."
Aisha's eyes had started to gloss over with the mention of the pyrokinesis and she seemed at a total loss for how to reply to that. I decided to head her off. "Survey can probably fill you in on the specifics. She's been working overtime to keep things straight."
"Yeah," Aisha nodded, "I can imagine." She turned towards the screen. "Any of that rolled into the armor?"
"As much as I can, meaning it should improve on its own, even beyond the hunting rig's capacity for improvement." I shifted the plans again. "The armor uses synthetic muscles and micro-servos for strength and agility boosts, but those are going to be mostly locked out to start until you get used to them." I advanced the screen. "Now, this type of tech would normally require some pretty invasive cybernetics to make it possible to operate."
Aisha gulped as she looked at the examples shown on the screen. "I'm really hoping you said 'normally' because you found another way, because you're great and all, but I'm not signing up for spinal surgery."
"I figured." And also wasn't too keen on the idea myself. Even with the understanding from my chimera creation memories I still wasn't that confident in my surgical skills. "That's what this is for."
Aisha looked at the image with a questioning expression. "What, contoured workout clothes?"
"It's a soft suit." I explained. "A complement to the hard suit. Acts specifically like a neural interface medium without needing any invasive connections, as long as it's personalized properly." Which I could do in my sleep. Using this kind of power armor was somewhere between wearing a combat android and being fused with a tank. The soft suit was the shortcut that would let Aisha have a chance functioning in the field without months of training and conditioning or incredibly invasive surgeries.
"It will also allow direct interface with the weapon systems." Aisha perked up as I explained. "Now, most of these are locked out or at reduced effectiveness until the suit adapts to you, but I was able to start you with a modest armament."
"Modest." Aisha muttered as she read through the list of systems.
"It's mostly nonlethal, containment systems, tasers, and tranquilizers. These are the exceptions." I pulled up plans of the truly dangerous weapons systems the suit had to offer.
Aisha looked over the small collection of deadly melee and ranged weapons incorporated into the design. "Uh, you're really alright with me having these?" She asked nervously.
"Remember that celestial bronze you helped me make?" She nodded. "Super durable and magical material, but has this unique feature. Weapons made from it can't hurt normal people."
Aisha blanked. "Seriously? How the hell does that work?"
I shrugged. "Something about it being a noble metal and mortals not being worthy to be hurt by it. Or possibly some complex passenger interactions. Point is the lethal stuff, shotgun gauntlets, flechette launchers, and the monosword, they can't hurt normal people. I'm not saying to go deadly on every cape, but it's there if you need it."
Which was the unfortunate part of this situation. With the city in its current state there were times when Aisha might need to go lethal. All I could do was give her the option and make sure that bystanders couldn't be caught in the crossfire.
"That's seriously a lot of responsibility." Aisha muttered. "But thanks, for trusting me with it."
"You're welcome." I replied somewhat lamely.
"Uh, on that note, how is this suit actually going to work?" She asked, looking over the complexity. "This is like, on the level of one of those hoop gowns Garment keeps trying to get me into. How am I supposed to wear this?"
I smiled brightly at that. "Okay, this is great." I called up the full model of the hard suit. "One of my powers lets me build things that turn into other configurations, or collapse down to a smaller size. Another helps with miniaturization of technology. Combine the two any you get…"
I activated the sequence and watched Aisha's face. There was a moment of silence following the demonstration before she finally spoke.
"No fucking way."
I pulled up the designs again. "I assure you, it'll work."
"No." She shook her head. "You can't collapse all of that, everything you just explained, into something the size of.. what is that, a soda can?"
"Might be smaller." I admitted as the Knowledge constellation passed by. "It's my first time working at this level, so I was conservative on the estimates."
"You can seriously just fold up the armor? And I, what just summon it when I need it?" It sounded more like she was trying to convince herself of the reality of the situation than actually questioning me about it.
"Pretty much." Aisha collapsed back in her seat as the duplicates grinned at her reaction. "And if you're alright with all the tech we can talk color, then get started."
"Color?" She asked weakly.
"Garment prepped a bunch of designs. We weren't sure what you wanted for your cape name, so she basically put together everything that she thought worked with the design." I paused. "Though I guess I should have asked…"
"Lethe." She replied with sudden confidence.
"Lethe?"
"Like the river, and memory water. I want Lethe for my cape name." She was adamant in her response.
"Uh," I considered things, "Thematically it's good, but it tells a lot about your powers, and there's an implication for capes with names referencing mythology."
"I know and I don't care. I'm going to be Lethe." She firmly stated.
I looked at her, then nodded. "Alright, so water-themed colors?" I reduced the range of combinations Garment had prepared.
"I like that one." She indicated towards a combination of purple and turquoise that looked rather striking. And rather familiar.
"That one?" I pulled up the design.
"Yep." She responded, clearly knowing what I saw and not caring in the least.
"Right…" I drawled. "And do you want it to collapse into a crescent shaped amulet? Maybe have a trigger phrase for deployment. Something like 'By the magic of the moon stone'?"
She gave me a sideways look. "Well, if you don't have any better ideas…"
"Nope." I stood up. "Not entertaining this. This is serious armor construction and we are dedicated professionals."
"If you're going to lie, try to keep it more believable than that." Offered the second duplicate as he shifted the last piece of equipment. "And we're ready to start if you are."
"Uh, do you need me to clear out?" Aisha asked, glancing to the exit. I shook my head.
"Actually, we need you here for this." I assured her. "It'll help with the calibration."
And for the possible Technosorcery focus, but that wasn't something I wanted to suggest until I knew it would work. I had planned to incorporate an additional focus into the suit, but Technosorcery greatly expanded what could be accomplished. That said, until I knew it would work I didn't want to make any promises.
"Sensor bay by the console, just chill there until we're finished." The first directed her.
"Right." She shuffled over. "So, how long will this take?" She looked at the array of partially-completed parts waiting to be assembled. "I know you said you work fast, but there was a lot of complex stuff in there."
I smiled at that. "Well, I have one power that lets me work like ten people. It combines with another power to boost to a hundred as long as it's mechanical work. Another power lets me use my hands like high-speed tools, which helps with other skill powers. After that there's one that doubles speed and quality as long as I'm focused, another that doubles speed and halves material requirements, another that speeds up technical work to four times normal speed, and an early power that's about ten times stronger than that one. Piled together it's over five hundred times faster than what I could normally handle, which since you know, demigod, is pretty fast to begin with."
Aisha was staring at me with her mouth open, then turned towards the duplicates. "Okay, suddenly you guys building theaters in the last few minutes before you vanish makes sense."
"If you think that's impressive you should see the hockey rink." One of them quipped.
"Hockey rink?" Aisha's voice was skeptical. A quick signal from one duplicate brought up a live feed from the rink. Moving across the ice were a half dozen tiny Zambonis. One of the duplicates had provided Fleet with ice maintenance equipment on the same scale as his miniature race cars, and the A.I. was clearly taking the responsibility seriously. It was kind of adorable, but wasn't what Aisha was focusing on.
"Is that lava?" She pointed at the glowing veins in the volcanic rock ceiling above the ice. One of the duplicates answered before I could.
"Yep. Built into the volcano. Tons of space there. You should see what the other guys have built." He said with a grin on his face.
Aisha returned it with equal intensity. "Like what?"
"You can tour after the armor." I said in a bid to get everybody back on track. The duplicates reluctantly agreed, but left the feed up with the hypnotizing progress of tiny Zambonis at work on the ice.
Once we actually approached the manufacturing bay all the levity drained away. This was serious work. It was a pinnacle project, something beyond the cycle of upgrades and frantic busywork that occupied so much of my time in the workshop.
This was something that Aisha would be relying on for safety through her entire career. Something that wouldn't be casually replaced or revamped. Something that would have to protect her from every threat in the city, every threat on the horizon, and possibly every threat in the world.
I couldn't mess this up.
As much modularity had been applied to the design as possible. Components, all handmade with extreme care, stood ready to be integrated. All that was left were the final systems. The process that would craft the frame and bind the entire work into a single, perfect object.
That pursuit, the quest to be able to forge divine armor had introduced compromises. I wasn't using my most powerful processors or the most efficient designs for strength boosts. There were included inefficiencies in the joining process, a consequence of needing hand work rather than instant formations of materials. Those and a hundred other small changes to designs, all to bring about the effects of my strongest power. To make something truly beyond human.
It wasn't as bad as it could have been. I could work with machine precision, further helped by enhanced micromanipulators and demigod skill. Weaponsmith and Armourer were designed to allow work in limited conditions, often by hand. Finally, I was able to enter into the work with the knowledge that the benefits of this art heavily outweighed the compromises.
I was practically disconnected from the process as my hands wove a level of grace into the construction that I could barely follow, much less comprehend. Aisha had stopped making sly comments or grinning at the hockey rink shortly after the work started, instead following every movement of the process with an almost reverent expression on her face. Honestly, if my attention wasn't demanded on such an intense level I would have been right there with her.
I can't even describe the process in mechanical terms. It was like the armor was being formed out of some primordial state, drawn by an unfathomable will and cast into a new form. Components and materials disappeared, but seemed almost unrelated to the structure that manifested as the work on the armor progressed. Forces beyond description were woven into materials the world had never seen to the shape of technologies man had never dared approach.
This was art. More than anything I had built in the workshop, this was truly art. It was performance, sculpture, recital, and impression, all fused together into a new craft. I was the one building the armor, but I felt like a patron of a grand display, something I was lucky to be able to witness.
And like all performances, the conclusion came too soon. Piece by piece the armor came together, beyond any workmanship I had ever dreamed possible. With a final flourish the final parts vanished from the work benches and were incorporated into the hard suit. A golden light surged, tracing fey letters across the one of the plates, confirming my success. The creation of a divine object.
Now I had to name it.
With a great effort of will I dug deep within myself. This wasn't like pouring energy into my normal crafts. This was something deep, personal, and costly. It was true enchantment, using the resources that made me who I was to define what the universe should be.
I felt my duplicates around me, but this was something they couldn't help with. We were all drawing from the same well, so to speak. They could help carry the water, but they couldn't pay the cost. Not for this.
I felt the energy bubble forth, a power beyond description channeled through an art I had only attempted once before. With a deep breath I spoke the word, the name, that would bind the power in place.
"Beria."
Beria. The word of protection. That's what this was. That was what this was for. It would keep Aisha safe. It would protect her and defend her from harm. It would ensure that my crusade didn't result in the end of the life of a girl who had barely started living. Who had so much to live for. To that end, to that protection, I Named the armor.
And then I slumped onto the floor.
Aisha was beside me in a flash. There was no doubt the work was complete, not with that finish. I smiled weakly as she helped me to my feet.
"What the hell did you do?" She asked in concern.
I shook her off and straightened myself out. "I enchanted it." She gave me a worried look. "It wasn't that bad." I swung my arms in a display that I was still alive and healthy. "The drain surprised me, but I could handle it."
"See, I hear a word like 'drain' and I'm going to get naturally concerned." She looked at the armor, making an attempt to glare at it, but she couldn't quite bring herself to direct hostility towards that work. Instead, she turned to me, someone she apparently had no problem directing hostility at.
"That was the second level of enchanting, the same type that went into Ren. It's Named. That strengthens its power. It's going to be able to protect you." I reached out and triggered the folding system. The armor collapsed into itself, seemingly solid plates folding into each other until all that was left was a small piece of turquoise metal, about three inches wide.
And it was crescent shaped.
Master Craftsman enhances every part of an item, including how effectively it can miniaturize itself. All the armor's mass was technically still there, but between the materials and the divine effects it might as well have been weightless.
I lifted it and offered it to Aisha. She reached for it without thinking, then stopped herself.
"It's so small. What if I lose it?" She asked.
I smiled. "You're not going to lose it. There are more effects here than I can really explain, but the chances of you getting separated from it against your will are basically zero. If something does happen I can always find it for you. One of my powers lets me do that."
She paused, then nodded and took the item from me. She carefully ran a finger across its surface. "There aren't any seams. How does it work?"
I smiled. This was the tricky part of the process, the one I didn't want to make any early promises about. It turns out I was being overly cautious. "It works with your power." Her head snapped up. "Like Ren. It's a focus, a better one. There are magitech principles at play. You should be able to manipulate it directly through your power alone."
The Quality constellation passed as she nodded slowly. "I don't have the best control with that. I mean, it's getting easier thanks to Ren, but I don't know. Maybe if I…"
She stopped talking as the slip of metal flashed with an otherworldly light. There was blinding radiance in the shape of a woman and the sound of sliding metal, then nearly six feet of magical power armor was standing in my workshop.
With a body language the looked awkward, nervous, and slightly embarrassed. There was a muffled sound from the helmet that vaguely resembled speech.
"Activate your external speakers, or open your helmet if you want to speak. Fleet can help you if…" There was a scraping sound as the lower portion of the helmet split and folded open, revealing Aisha's nose and mouth.
"Holy shit that was awesome." She shifted slightly from one side to the other. "And you really can't fall in these things, can you?"
"Nope." I replied with a smile, watching her take progressively more aggressive stances that would have sent even someone well accustomed to heels into a brutal faceplant. Another sliding sound caused the entire helmet to peel back, fully revealing her smiling face.
"This is incredible. God damn, if half the features work like Fleet's saying…"
"They will." I promised her. "But it will take some time to get used to."
She shifted slightly and looked apprehensive. "We have time for that? I mean, I want to, but I did promise my dad I'd get home after 'shopping'. I can use my power…" She raised a hand to the clip. "…but it's kind of nice, him paying attention to me. I really don't like messing with that."
I nodded. "Let me deal with your other equipment, then you can head back. Take the armor with you and you'll be ready if there's an emergency. Otherwise we can work out a training program."
The girl smiled brightly in a way that eased the expenditure from the level of enchanting I had just performed. Naming an object on this scale was serious, much more than the hairclip had been. That said I was stronger than I had been during my last attempt. Whatever this power source was, it had some odd rules governing its use and recovery.
"Hey?" She asked. "When you said Beria…" She paused, seeming to notice something from her armor. "That was this thing's name, right? And that was part of the enchanting?"
I nodded, and watched to see her put it together.
"It's connected to my power, and that made the connection stronger?" She asked, but didn't wait for a response. "There's something else? Something about my power?"
I decided to fill her in. "The hairclip was a focus. It works to help you build control. I can do that, make things that affect how a power works. Normally minor stuff, but more energy means greater effect. That's what the armor does as well."
Aisha nodded, but still looked confused. "I can tell, but it didn't add anything, but something's there, something that was barely there before?"
I smiled as I was reminded just how little most parahumans understood their powers. "Electronics."
Aisha's head jerked up. "What?"
"Your power affects electronic records of your existence the same way it affects memories, it's just incredibly slow. Maybe after a couple of years some personal data would be corrupted or a photo would fade, but nothing practical."
"But not anymore?" She guessed. I nodded to her.
"The armor has stealth systems. Match background thermals, absorb active scans, and move silently. Most of all, it acts as a focus, lets your power affect technology as well as it can affect humans." I grinned. "No more vulnerability to tinkers."
"Except you." She grinned back. "Tell me, did you just do this because Dragon was trying to catch you?" Her smile died when she saw my expression. "What? I didn't think it was that bad, what with how she acted in the press…"
"Dragon is being mastered." There was no reason to dance around this. Aisha would be working with me, she needed to know the details.
"What?" Aisha asked in shock.
"Found her online, worked with her for a bit, then something happened that triggered some weird behavior. I took some steps to confirm it, then as soon as I was sure she attacked me." I paused. "Well, in computer terms. Really, she aggressively tried to track my connection. I was lucky to get out of that one."
"But, mastered? Dragon's the most powerful tinker in the world. Who could have done that?" Her face was ashen as she spoke.
I shook my head, and also decided not to correct her on that 'most powerful tinker' thing. "I don't know. I'm investigating it, but I have to be careful. I don't know what will happen if I set her off any worse than this." I sighed. "Best I've been able to get from my thinker power is that the Dragonslayers are involved somehow. Not as the ones who did it, but they know something."
"Right. So, are you flying to Canada?"
I grinned at that. "Maybe once this mess calms down. It's looking bad and there might be something starting soon."
She shifted slightly. "If you need help I can…"
"No, go home, spend time with your dad. I'll contact you if I know anything."
She nodded and looked down at the armor. After a few different expressions shifted across her face there was a flash and the sound of sliding metal as the armor collapsed back into its token form.
Announcements about the subversion of the world's favorite tinker, because I was nowhere near her on that metric, had sucked most of the excitement out of the meeting. I could still see her excitement about the armor, but it was muted by the responsibility it represented.
My duplicates were able to handle her equipment upgrades while I caved and agreed to show her the hockey rink. And caved and agreed to fabricate her some skates. And managed to keep a straight face at her fumbling attempts to remain upright on them. Aisha may have a kind of natural grace, but ice skating apparently wasn't a natural extension of that.
It probably didn't help that Fleet decided to deal with her impact on the ice by piloting a tiny Zamboni directly behind her as she made a wobbly circuit of the rink, largely assisted by the support of the walls.
"Don't say anything." She accused, pulling off her skates. "I'm going to get this down, you'll see."
"Sure. It'll be waiting for you. In the meantime, your gear is ready and apparently Garment has a care package waiting for you."
Aisha rolled her eyes as we walked. "Of course she does." She paused, and rubbed a thumb over the armor token. "Uh, also, thank you for this. I know this stuff is the norm for you or whatever, but I could tell you went the extra mile for me. Thanks for that."
"Don't mention it." I assured her. As long as it kept her safe. It was a short trip back to the entrance where Garment was waiting with the mock results of her 'shopping trip', complete with fabricated bags. She had put way too much effort into it, including the production of sale tags and fake receipts that would pass any inspection her father could offer, all while presenting an expenditure within the budget of a middle schooler.
"Take care of yourself." I said as she slipped out the back exit of Garment's studio. Garment extended the same sentiment, and Aisha returned the feelings.
"I will. And thank you again." She held up the bag. "Both of you. And let me know if I can help."
"I will." I promised her. It was a promise that might come to a head sooner than I would have preferred.
Because Survey had found something.
Nothing certain, but enough warning signs to identify an area of high risk. I worked to review it through my duplicates' 20% time. They were as on edge as me, given they spent the entire term upgrading my equipment. By the end I had enough information to make a call.
Something was happening. I could either wait for it to manifest, or I could try to get ahead of it. For the first time in nearly two weeks, I needed to go on patrol.
I was ready for this. In fact, I was over-prepared for this. There were only a handful of threats in the city I couldn't handle. The only reason I hadn't smacked them down sooner was delay in my response time. I needed to put that aside and get into the field.
Which meant a full loadout, and the staggering understanding of just how excessive a full loadout actually was. Life fibers as a base, then my renewed costume and divine stomping boots. Add in micromanipulators and newly rebuilt equipment, including ragnite power sources and divine crafting. Technosorcery empowered omni-tool on my wrist. Pistol at my side, and numerous other pieces of equipment in my subspace pocket. Finally, Garment's gloves flowing over my hand and her new dress unfurling into a glorious white cape with my symbol on the back, crafted in Masterful dust weaving.
I felt ready to take on the world.
That wasn't much of an exaggeration. I could feel the location of people. I could sense cameras. I could, at least in short bursts, move faster than the eye could see. I was an absolute terror in the dying light of the late afternoon, darting from rooftop to rooftop using only the slightest bursts of strength.
This wasn't just a romp across the city. I was scanning as I went. Upgraded sensors and equipment slipped in and out of subspace gave me a deeper picture of activities in the docks than should have been possible. And it wasn't a pretty picture.
Bakuda's reach had grown like an infection. Scans were picking up her work, and it wasn't good. More concerning, it was putting on an air of normality. Normal people, going about their day with the only hint to their subverted purpose the grim expression on their face and the bomb hiding in their head.
The concealment of the bombs had been greatly improved from Saturday night. Power sources were shielded, communications were dampened, and there were active effects blocking most methods of detection. Bakuda had stepped up her game. Luckily I had stepped mine up ever further.
I wanted to jump down and immediately start digging the accursed things out of people's heads, but that would be a fleeting pleasure taken at the expense of everyone cursed with a similar fate. Instead, I prowled. I watched movements. I trailed from rooftops and blind spots. And I closed in.
There aren't many things that could have distracted me at that moment. I was on the hunt for the source of the greatest threat to the city, and a potential threat to the entire world. So, therefore please understand how significant it was when the Celestial Forge connected to a mid-sized mote named Tailor, and suddenly I was seriously considering abandoning the search and immediately rushing back to my Workshop.
Tailor doesn't sound like that special a power, especially considering the wide array of clothing-based powers I had. The thing was, it absolutely was. It was an incredibly significant power, and one I had been waiting ages to acquire. The mote was the second of a clustered pair, the first of which I had gotten almost exactly seven days ago.
Tailor wasn't about how to work with clothing. It was about how to work with life fibers. Everything I had researched, all my work, development, and effort to understand Tetra, I hadn't even been scratching the surface. The potential of that material, of that lifeform, it was absolutely incredible. So incredible I desperately wanted to dive into it without delay.
But I was close. Patterns were emerging, and Survey was piecing them together. The ABB had a conscripted army and were moving them like chess pieces. I was close enough to figuring things out that I didn't dare back away. Not until I was able to flip the board.
So, I pushed on. My search took me on a route that stitched into the docks, into the reaches of ABB territory. I pieced together more and more information as I went. Layers of command, conscripts on the bottom with a shaky structure of authority above them. A structure that was the organization's weak point. Too many soldiers, not enough officers. A teenager who might have been making drops for the gang now had an entire squad of conscripts under his command. Untrained, undisciplined conscripts that he needed to direct.
That meant reaching out for help. Him and dozens of others, abusing the discreet system of burner phones and code words to try to stay on track. The entire mess forming a network leading me deeper into the organization.
As I pulled more information a picture began to form. An attack was coming. A major push by the gang, using everything they had amassed so far. Led by their expendable troops, it would leave a brutal wound on the city. What's more, it was dispersed and coordinated. Enough forces in any area to meet responses that could be mounted, but also enough fronts to overwhelm anyone who tried to counter the move.
I dug deeper into their network, getting beyond text messages and into dedicated systems, systems I could subvert with contemptuous ease. Even with their secrets revealed to me it was only adding to the image of how bad the attack would be. Records of arms distribution. Plans regarding patrol routes for heroes. Specific instructions for countering National Guard forces. I pushed harder into their systems, moving from one communication node to another as I hunted for their base of operations.
Then I found it. Something too good to be true. A direct communication link. A dedicated video protocol tagged with the highest priority within their system. I didn't care about the context of the find, or if it was actually too good to be true. I latched on and began to trace.
That was when the line lit up. A naïve person would have assumed they had suddenly had the chance to intercept a priority call between the ABB elite. That they were lucky twice and could find everything they needed all at once. I didn't believe in that kind of luck. I knew who I was up against. I connected to the call knowing exactly what I was going to find.
I wasn't disappointed. The image on the other end was framed with utmost care, centering the subject in a manner designed to make them look powerful and in control. The oversized chair, low angle, and precise lighting was all out of Film Imagery 101. And specifically, framed in a way that drew attention to the arms and legs. The apparently intact arms and legs.
"Hello Apeiron."
Bakdua's electronic voice was once more processed by her gas mask, now with a line drawn over one of the lenses. She perched on her pseudo-throne glaring down at the camera. A much more professional camera than you would find in video conferencing. I wasn't doing anything more than tracking the call, but I needed it open longer for that to work. Which meant I had to play this game.
I quickly took in my surroundings, made a single, life fiber-enhanced leap to the roof of the tallest building in the area, and fabricated a camera drone. With the red sky of sunset behind me and light glinting off my costume while my cape billowed behind me I engaged the video and entered the call with Bakuda, all while continuing my trace.
"Hello Bakuda. You're looking… intact."
I saw her tense, first at my appearance and then at my words. My only goal was to stretch this to the point where I could find her location, and hope I had outstripped whatever countermeasures they had planned. That I could cut the head off this snake and stop this from turning into a night of blood.
Once more, posturing would come before battle, but at least this time I was ready for what was coming.
*******
Addendum Kenta
Kenta breathed in, and out, letting frustration flow through him. They said breathing calmed a man down, that it gave him the clarity to evaluate his situation, and let him find peace.
Maybe that worked for those who sought situations that were peaceful, but that wasn't Kenta's way. Clarity of his situation rarely brought peace, only more efficiently directed anger. Breaths didn't provide a calming breeze, they stoked the furnace of his rage, preparing for the moment when it would be unleashed.
He took another breath in the ostentatious office and remembered the time before the chaos. Before the city's heroes overreached and their delicate and treasured balance crumbled around them. It had been an act of vengeance that started it. No one crossed Lung. Lung did not lose. Lung did not accept defeat. The children who thought they could disrespect him, disrespect his territory needed to be dealt with.
It should have been a simple matter. He might not even have killed them. The living could instill fear in a way the dead could not quite manage. Instead, the city had decided to collapse around him.
New capes. It was always the young, the freshly triggered who didn't know better. Worse, a run of lucky nights, petty victories, and their egos would swell. They would feel invincible, ready to take on the world. They would forget their fear.
The girl had edged out a victory, rescued by the Undersiders and then the Leader of the Protectorate. Kenta had been left poisoned, his body rotting and falling to pieces around him until they brought in the New Wave girl. A humiliation, one of many to be repaid.
Lung had waited. He knew how to do that. The Protectorate may have thought themselves a force to be reckoned with, but their confinement had nothing on the C.U.I. or in the pit Tōng Líng Tǎ had kept him trapped in when nothing else would work. He waited and trusted his lieutenants. And his patience had been rewarded with freedom. Lung emerged back into the world, but not the same world he had left.
The city was broken. The balance destroyed, a gang war all but officially declared. The ABB transformed from his kingdom to a terrorist group, an empire of slaves, or a mad blaze that consumed everything in its way.
If the gang's position had been stronger Lung might have killed Bakuda for the liberties she had taken. The girl had listened to his lessons on fear and tried to ape them like a child copying a parent's actions without the skill or power to accomplish anything meaningful. The fear she cultivated with her bombs and kill switches was the fear that left men numb, uncaring. Lung had seen it before, in the aftermath of Kyushu. It was the fear that made men turn on each other, not the fear that made them obey.
That was obvious enough in the aftermath of her grand attempt. Rescued by clowns, broken and maimed while those who obeyed her lined up to pay reverence to her enemy. What that boy accomplished against her would have almost been impressive, if he were not so infuriating.
He drummed his fingers on the table, considering the rabbit and her plan for the boy. That slip of a girl from New York, clearly broken in a way Bakuda had overlooked and Lee would never notice. Lost in dreams of the springtime of her youth and obsessions of bloody romance. When he questioned the cape, she presented her objectives openly and with deference.
The rabbit did everything with deference. It was the only reason she was still alive. Kenta wasn't stupid. He knew it was an act. She played everyone around her, it was the nature of thinkers. But where other thinkers would be slaved to the ticks and defects of their powers, March was able to contain and direct hers. Perhaps it was a consequence of whatever had broken the girl that she now lacked the typical obsessions that characterized her type of cape.
So, Lung let her play, and she played court official for the new ABB empire. An empire of slaves rather than fear, but Kenta found himself without the luxury of choice. The city was boiling over. The E88 was massing, the Merchants were expanding their ranks with the detritus of Lung's battles, and the Canadian tinker who thought herself a dragon was moving to the city.
Kenta frowned and drew up the video of the woman's announcement again. He knew it would infuriate him, but that was good. This wasn't the time for calm, and fury was Lung's strength.
The video started with the Guild's symbol, fading into an emulated green face the tinker hid behind. The face put on a smile that would look more at home in a shoujo manga than an internationally regarded cape.
"Hello, I would like to take this opportunity to speak to the previous night's events. As has been extensively reported, I engaged in an electronic confrontation with the tinker known as Apeiron. During the incident there was extensive damage to systems belonging to myself, the Guild, Protectorate assets, and many uninvolved parties. On behalf of myself and the Guild I would like personally apologize for the damage inflicted during this scuffle, and assure you that remuneration will be forthcoming for those affected by our engagement."
"Based on information I obtained in the course of our encounter I believe Apeiron is of the utmost importance. As such I am announcing my transfer of operations to Brockton Bay, where I will provide assistance with the mounting local situation and the pursuit of Apeiron. I have committed to devote my full resources towards the resolution of local conflicts and Aperion's capture."
The smile widened, as if she was enjoying some private joke.
"I look forward to working with the local Protectorate and PRT forces, and will be conducting operations with the full support of Director Emily Piggot in this critical mission. I would like to personally thank the Director and local authorities for making this endeavor a reality. In addition…"
Lung cut it off before any more could play. The woman spoke as if she should be grateful for the opportunity to pursue the boy, as if this was the greatest moment of her life. It was pathetic, confusing, and worst of all, a complication.
Another breath. Another moment of mounting rage. Stoke the bellows. Prepare.
The gang was not as he left it. Twisted on Saturday and broken on Monday, it was hardly a gang anymore. Their resources were more abundant than ever, as the Rabbit had plucked the darkened city of its treasures. Lung was sitting on more liquid assets than any other time in his career, but he felt less of a leader because of it.
March had suggested her manipulations of the stock markets. She had the same disregard for the impact of her actions that was shared by Bakuda, though at least she was able to properly direct her brutality. Pulling the bound civilians with useful skills and putting them to work was a novel idea, and what appeared to be a profitable one.
Early proofs of the concept had convinced Lung to commit, and a decision that had cost them both everything, and almost nothing. Everything that bound the gang to the city was gone, every business, investment, and front had been torn away. The actual financial cost had been moderate, at worst. Their accounts had been defended against the attack, and the rabbit's scheme had secured enough profit before its failure to bloat them even more. Were the disaster to happen any other way Lung might have taken it as a sign. Rewarded with treasure and free of bounds, he could leave the nest of vipers and move to more profitable territory.
But that would not happen. Lung did not lose, Lung repaid insults, and nothing short of a brutal death would repay the indignity of Apeiron's madness.
Lung had called the meeting personally, and there was none who would refuse him. Every official beholden to the ABB was there to pay deference and acknowledge his power. With the rabbit's plans securing funding and the gang's expanded assets it was a turning point, a moment for the ABB to emerge stronger and more prominent.
Then they heard the crash. The building shook beneath their feet. Lung was on his feet instantly. He did not know who would have dared to attack them, but hero or villain, he would meet them as a dragon should.
Then the wall exploded, torn through with contemptuous ease, and Lung saw him. The tinker that broke Bakuda, glowing red with a billowing white mantle cast about him like the shroud of death. But Lung didn't hesitate. Lung was the dragon, and he would break the upstart upon his own trinkets.
His fist had been intercepted by the whipping cape and felt as if he had struck the hull of an armored vehicle. Then, before he could move, speak, or even growl a challenge to the boy he was pulled beyond his own power.
It was an insult. He did not strike. He did not attack like a man, test metal against metal. The boy flowed, sank smoothly, broke Lung's footing, and moved him like a leaf caught in a stream. All with a gentle grace that stood at odds with the forces in play.
Tai chi. Lung remembered his grandmother practicing in the mornings, back when he was very young. The smooth motions carried out like therapy. An art of restoration and healing. The complete antithesis of everything Lung represented.
And the boy used it. He flowed through gentle steps with the speed of a maelstrom and flung Lung from his grasp. He remembered the first impact, and the second. The third was vague and buried in fog, and he had no recollection of the fourth until he awoke buried in a collection of office furniture.
Apeiron had left him. The boy had bloodied Lung and walked on to burn down his organization. Tear down what he had built with the blood and tears of his rivals.
Perhaps he would have come back to ensure his victory. Or perhaps he arrogantly believed Lung had been beaten for good. He couldn't say. March's jesters were able to lure the tinker from the building and hold the attention of the heroes long enough for the damage to be mitigated. The building was evacuated, records destroyed, and Lung himself secreted out.
If the rabbit had drawn attention to it she would have died. If the jesters had mentioned the slightest understanding of the situation they would have died. If any hero had happened upon the scene they would have died. Instead, March had coordinated events. No one knew of Lung's defeat. The events were too fast for the officers to follow, and the tinker had blinded and deafened them immediately after. They believed Lung had abandoned them to their fate, but that was preferable to the insult the tinker had wrought.
No, only the tinker would need to die, and he would die brutally. To that end Lung would endure this pageantry. The expansion of the ranks of captured, the ambitious operation against the forces of the city. Even the theatrics that March insisted were necessary for the plan to be timed properly. That was acceptable. Let Bakuda display her petty victory in reversing the damage of her debut. Let March play shogi with his forces until she could capture the piece she was hunting for.
They could play their games, and Lung would wait. Lung did not lose. Lung did not bear insult. Lung was not ignored.
The boy had power, and was drunk on it. He thought himself invincible. He would soon learn otherwise. There were only three creatures on this planet who could not be defeated. Three who Lung would not fight. Three from whom Lung would bear derision and disregard.
Everyone else would learn. Lung had seen the depth of power this world had to offer, tested his strength against it. He knew the meaning of strength more than any pretender possibly could.
The phone rang and Lung tensed as he lifted the receiver.
"Speak."
The rabbit's voice greeted him. "Lung, contact has been made. It is time to begin."
Lung smiled. He could feel the transformation waiting to emerge, the scales held beneath his skin. The eagerness to meet this challenge. The boy had power, and Lung's strength, his fury, was eager to meet it. Challenge it. Show it the place it actually held in the world. He thought he was invincible, but Lung's forces would be happy to show him otherwise.
Lung knew the meaning of strength, and it was a lesson he was happy to teach.
The ABB wasn't a gang anymore. They stood apart from this city, drawing what they needed with no ties binding them. Lung sat atop a pile of wealth and power and looked to the future.
Jumpchain abilities this chapter:
Valuable Memories -the creation of chimeras (Big O) 300:
You have knowledge related to any particular concept-the construction of Megadei, the nature of memories, Bigs, or the creation of chimeras. Paradigm will have a vested interest in you, and will protect you and provide you with funds if you work for them.
Mauler (Command and Conquer: Tiberium Wars) 400:
You have the skills of a junkyard hound, able to make even the most heavily damaged tech work again. Even machines too battle-damaged for recovery 20 years ago can be effective under your wrench. Repurposing tech and equipment is your forte; you can turn a pneumatic screwdriver into a reasonable cannon, and heaven help your enemies if you get anywhere near mining equipment, as a powerarmored mutant is quickly appearing in their future. There was even one time where you made a toaster into a reasonable facsimile of a flamethrower…..
Technosorcery (Gargoyles) 400:
Combining magic and technology is a no brainer for you. You can handily blend the two to create amazing effects like broadcasting spells over telephone lines or melding creatures together through sorcerous surgery. Very little in the field of technomagic is beyond your reach with this skill.
Tailor (Kill la Kill) 300:
You have the knowledge of how to safely work with life fibers, and how to make them into clothing that empowers (or inhibits) the wearer. In addition, because you know how Life Fiber uniforms work, you know their weak spots better than anyone.
