(Marcus)
It was the ninth of March when I got a call from Faultline, specifically regarding an information bounty. Two of them, actually, though neither of them seemed likely to be recruitment prospects for Reliabuilt. I turned up in person with the agreed upon ten thousand dollars in cash per information bounty.
As it turned out, Faultline was busy. So the task of telling me what Faultline's Crew had learned fell to Spitfire.
"So, we've looked into a recent incident by the docks. We don't know many of the details, but apparently the PRT snapped up a fresh Trigger into the Wards. Probably a regenerator, given they were picked up from the hospital."
I nodded, though I didn't bother concealing a frown. It was information within the terms of the agreement, but it also wasn't terribly useful.
"Second, we have a confirmed sighting of Bakuda in Brockton Bay."
If I had blood, it would have run cold. Meanwhile, Spitfire got out a printed out photograph, presumably from a cell phone camera. It was a bit grainy, but I could clearly make out Bakuda talking to an ABB foot soldier in a back alley.
"Do you want to activate the pre-prepared contract to hunt down Bakuda?"
I thought for a moment. The more time Bakuda had to Tinker, the more dangerous she would get. But on the other hand, antagonizing Lung without needing to would be rather foolish. More pertinently, getting a reputation for being untrustworthy would make my job of quietly solving problems for Reliabuilt vastly harder in the long term.
So after a moment to think, I chose my answer.
"Not just yet. While she's almost guaranteed to cause problems, she hasn't yet. That said, if the PRT starts a manhunt for Bakuda, the contract immediately goes live. Given the change in circumstances, we're willing to increase the payment by ten percent for additional discretion regarding it being us hiring you."
Spitfire nodded,
"That sounds reasonable enough."
(Andrea)
It was just after lunch on Wednesday (March 9), when Rose paged me.
"Laniakea, Amy Dallon is here? She doesn't have an appointment, but she looks really distressed. Do you want to meet with her, or should I tell her you're busy?"
I saved the project I was working on, then replied.
"I'll talk to her; tell her I'll be in conference room two."
I arrived there about a minute before Amy did, though not before the robots stocked a fresh box of donuts and a jug of apple juice. Also a fruit bowl, in case anyone wanted to eat healthy.
Soon enough, the teenage brunette in question made her presence known. Judging by how messed up her hair was, she'd clearly been having a rough time of things. I offered her a glazed donut, and she immediately took it.
"Amy, what's wrong?"
Swallowing the bite she'd been chewing, the teenager answered,
"I can't go home again. If I have to go back to Carol, I – I won't be able to keep myself from doing something horrible."
I blinked, then motioned for Amy to go on.
"A bit less than a week ago, Brockton General got their uploading machine in. I know it's a good thing, but it got me thinking and I finally admitted to myself that I don't like healing. Stayed over at Taylor's for a night, but when I got back home, everything went bad."
Slowly, the whole story came out. Carol had massively gotten on Amy's case when it came out that she didn't actually like healing, and it had been so awful that Amy had opted to run away from home last night instead of go through another reaming. I didn't blame her in the slightest for running away from a clear case of emotional abuse.
I ran my fingers through my hair as I tried to figure out what to do. Obviously, Amy couldn't go back to Carol, but legal problems on my end could be very troublesome indeed. So I paged the legal office for some advice.
A few minutes later, Jacob Vespa had turned up with a laptop, and a stack of law books.
"So, I do need to make clear that I'm specialized in contract and intellectual property law, rather than whatever this is. Still, I'll do my best to figure out what the applicable laws here are."
An hour went by, along with two bathroom stops and another box of donuts. Still, Jacob had what seemed to be an answer.
"So, the most applicable law here would be Section 633:4 under New Hampshire's Title LXII Criminal Code. The short of it is that at best keeping Amy away from Carol would constitute a misdemeanor at minimum, possibly a felony. The catch is that there's a specifically spelled out affirmative defense: if you were acting in good faith to protect the child from real and imminent physical danger, it wasn't a crime."
Amy frowned.
"That's... not helpful. It doesn't cover emotional danger."
Jacob hummed, then looked something up on his laptop.
"Unfortunately, you seem to be correct. Though there are a few other legal avenues we can take – along with some more dubious measures."
I asked,
"Let's start with the legally clear options first, please."
"Well, calling Child Protective Services is definitely an option, as is starting proceedings to get Amy legally emancipated. With some corroborating evidence about living conditions with Carol, it shouldn't be too hard to get Amy free of that household one way or another. The only concern there is that Amy might be forced back to Carol until those court proceedings wrap up, if we can't get some sort of emergency order."
Amy shook her head vigorously,
"No, no no that's not an option. If I go back I won't be able to stop myself from doing something horrible, I know it."
Jacob nodded,
"And that's where one of the slightly dubious options first makes its appearance. Namely, getting the PRT involved and having them bend the rules a bit. Though how much they're willing to bend rules depends on how dangerous the Parahuman is, and healing isn't generally perceived as dangerous. Also best for Ruggedizer not to put too much of her own implied firepower behind this one."
After a moment of silence, Amy spoke.
"I have to admit something. I'm not just a healer. I can do a lot more than that."
Then Amy grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl, and it immediately reshaped itself into a live rodent of some description.
As the critter ran around in circles, I spoke.
"This... explains a lot. Right, we're going to the courthouse. I'll call the PRT on the way and we can explain the situation."
We'd just reached the lobby when a furious Brandish damn-near kicked down the door, and shouted:
"Laniakea, don't you dare get between me and Panacea!"
I didn't even break stride, though I did say "Sure, she's all yours," as misdirection.
Then I pulsed my gravity nodes just so, flinging myself at Carol. Credit to her reaction times, she shifted into her invincible ball of light form before I could make contact.
Still, invincible didn't mean immobile, and I could hit quite a lot harder than a baseline human. With a single solid kick, I managed to knock Brandish well over two hundred meters away, sending her straight through the factory's still-open front door.
I noted,
"That should keep her busy for at least a few minutes. Come on, let's go."
With that, we boarded the flying ambulance and started on our flight to the courthouse. When we got there, us explaining the situation to the first judge who had an open time slot actually got him to pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation. While he didn't decide the case in Amy's favor instantly, he did grant Amy's request for alternate housing arrangements during proceedings. More specifically, she would be staying with the Heberts.
Crisis averted, I waited for Amy to get picked up, then flew back to the factory with Jacob.
(Emmy)
It was ten in the morning on Thursday, when I read the report on Byung-Ho's first major project. Namely, he'd managed to produce a superconductor that didn't quench until it reached six hundred Kelvins. Just reading that, my jaw dropped. Yeah the superconductors we'd had for the fusion reactor project were technically room-temperature, but only barely. What Byung-Ho made was actually even better in other regards too; it was flexible instead of rigid, and you could fairly easily splice lengths of superconducting cable together with just pressure and time.
Even if it weren't reproducible (and therefore couldn't be parented), this would have been a massively useful piece of technology. But apparently some PRT scientists had managed to manufacture a small sample of the new superconductor, dubbed BH-1. Albeit with absolutely trash yields compared to what Byung-Ho was capable of getting with Reliabuilt's equipment. Right, looked like Byung-Ho would be getting his first patent.
And yes, it would be his first patent; standard Reliabuilt contract for R&D personnel (Tinkers included) split ownership of the patent just about down the middle between the inventors and Reliabuilt. The idea was that neither party could sue the other for using the patented technology or demand royalties, and while the vast majority of licensing would be handled via Reliabuilt, the inventor got a share of the royalties – which they could voluntarily pay back into Reliabuilt or the BBRF, if they wished.
Either way, I promptly got up from my desk and went to go congratulate Byung-Ho in person. This was most definitely an achievement worthy of praise.
(Melissa)
As we sat down in the living room after work, I noted,
"So, the Manchester factory will be opening on Tuesday. I think we'll need to expand our 'cape roster' to maintain coverage."
Marcus nodded,
"That seems sensible enough. Especially since my professional capacity isn't really publicized. Heck, I don't think I've actually shown I have powers at all when I've been out making deals."
As if to prove his point, Marcus briefly projected an illusion of an unimpressed stick figure.
Andrea also chimed in,
"The big questions are what powers we'll build into the new person, and how we'll design their looks."
Marcus dug out a twenty-sided die from somewhere, then commented,
"Well, I for one think we ought to leave gender up to chance this time. One through ten is female, eleven through nineteen is male, and a twenty is non-binary."
No-one had any serious objections to the idea, so Marcus rolled the die, sending it clattering across the coffee table.
It was a two.
I shrugged,
"Any objections to naming her Rachel?"
