2.6
The rooftop was devoid of any obvious guards when I started to touch down, although the series of blinding lights pointing skyward made it hard to tell for sure. As I landed though, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched. One pattern of lights lit a path straight to a nearby door, and I could imagine that if I looked again, it would be a landing pad from above. With both feet firmly planted, I gazed around for a moment, just feeling the breeze as I debated with myself one last time over continuing or just leaving.
Miss Militia's argument had brought me here and just a few more steps would continue what my dad had started with filling out those papers. Right now, I still had a choice. I could say 'no' and turn around and fly away, and nothing would stop me. But did I want to, was the question? After everything else, all the anger, all the frustration, looking at the door just made me realize one thing.
I'm tired.
I was done with
today all it's moments. But thinking back, I was tired of
myself. The shocks were done, the reveals had happened, and the conflicts in retrospect were lost. I had won in the fact I had gotten in the last words. But without the haze of my frustrations and anger, I realized that having the last words hadn't been worth it.
Catherine and Minako had at least deserved a chance to explain. For every failing I had thrown at my Father, there was one I was probably guilty of as well. I had taken all that anger from Armsmaster and I had dumped it on everyone else in turn, not listening and just letting it speak for me. As much as I wanted to place all the blame for today on someone else, I couldn't deny my own part. I was as much to blame for everything self-destructing as anyone else.
I crossed my arms, thinking of my dad as I began trying to pick out stars. I gave up after a moment. With the roof lights, I couldn't see any of the ones I usually looked for. At least the moon was visible, a waning crescent that filled me with melancholy as I stared upward.
I looked away from it quickly, shivering like someone had poured cold water down my back. Thoughts of my dad replaced the sadness, the embers of my anger igniting for a moment. The feeling of betrayal that I had felt when he had told me I had no choice, that he thought he could just dictate my actions after ignoring everything.
The anger vanished as quickly as it had started, leaving exhausted clarity. I wasn't sure we could fix this, after the things I had said. I wasn't sure I wanted to. Which brought me to what I was going to do now. I could stay here to hear the Director out or leave and ignore this entirely. The urge at the back of my mind itched, to use my precognition and chart the results of both actions.
I resisted. This was going to be a choice I made with the information I had now, not with information about what could be. No powers, just me making my own choice. I could look at the consequences later.
"I will stay and hear them out, and end this here one way or another." I said after a long moment of warring with myself over the issue. Miss Militia had been honest, so I could at least start by listening to her. I nodded to myself as the decision was made, looking toward the door. My advance toward it came to a halt as it opened.
A uniformed PRT agent stepped out, looking around for a second before her eyes settled on me. She was taller than me, blonde hair framing a heart-shaped face. A questioning smile broke out on her face as she gave me a once over.
"I assume you're who I'm supposed to meet, yes?" she asked, giving the roof another survey before once more fixing her regard on me once more. One hand came up, holding an ID card toward me. "Lieutenant Danica Simmons."
"Taylor Hebert," I told her, lowering my walls to get a feel for her. I immediately regretted this as I hadn't realized that there were a lot of people in the building beneath my feet. I hastily rebuilt the blocks, sighing in relief as the noise faded to an almost inaudible murmur. "I guess I'm here to see the Director?"
Danica nodded. "So I was told. The Director is indisposed handling some medical issues and will be occupied with that temporarily. I can show you to a waiting room, if you'd like or, with your permission, I could give you a bit of a tour to pass the time?"
My eyes drifted upward to the sliver of the moon again and I felt that odd sense of melancholy once more before I nodded. "That sounds great, actually."
~~~~~~~~
The clicking of the machine as it did its work was almost enough to lull her into a drowsing sleep as she leaned back into the medical chair, lit almost solely by the light of her laptop. The room itself was dim bordering on dark, the lights turned low but not so low as to afford her enough light to work by, because there was always work, but not enough that anyone who had to enter her presence could see her like this.
Not that there was any chance of that. She had standing orders not to be disturbed during this time unless there was an emergency. Nothing was occurring now that warranted interrupting the session. Not even the mess that was finally coming to a head, which was the situation that had kept one of the Protectorate occupied on what she had felt was a wild goose chase.
Today had proven her wrong, but the information scattered across the surface in front of her still merited a thorough assessment. The girl was volatile and Armsmaster's speculations suggested that she had enough power to be a concern. Emily Piggot sighed, massaging the sides of her head as she considered the options for handling the situation. Her eyes tracked across the reports, several of which were hastily assembled evaluations of how she was likely to be thinking, provided by the Thinkers in PRT employ.
Most of it was going to be useless, she knew, as teenagers tended toward the mercurial so often that determining what they would do was often difficult to predict. Still, they were at least going to give her enough information to build the best method of settling the powder keg of issues around the girl.
The Director's attention was drawn away from the papers to her laptop, the reports that Armsmaster had submitted after he and Miss Militia had met with the girl filling most of the screen. She took note of his belief that she had some sort of intuition into what people were thinking. If that were true, it would make it difficult to convince her with her normal methods. Thinkers were always troublesome. One had to be creative, mercurial even. The worst part was not knowing what a Thinker was doing precisely.
She looked over the notes on what they had determined about the girl's home life, explicitly the father, both from the recordings of his call to Armsmaster and what had been investigated independently. His overzealousness in pursuing this matter was proving indirectly useful and she wondered for a moment how he had provoked her to such hostility with the information available.
A schism between father and daughter over his making a decision without consulting her. She considered that fact, tapping a finger on the table rhythmically as she did so. That was an avenue she could explore. Done properly, she could widen the gulf between them and secure a potential asset for the Wards by redirecting any anger away from them towards a more familial source.
A downward twist of her lips accompanied the dismissal of the notion. It was tempting, but left too many cracks that others could exploit. She needed the girl on board willingly, not through sleight of hand that might be uncovered. No, playing the girl against her father was not an approach she needed to pursue. Best that any further breaks between them had no hint of PRT or Protectorate involvement at all, given what had occurred already.
That lever discarded, she continued in thought. Plans were weighed, compared, and tossed away when found wanting. She reduced the issue to something like a numerical problem: what combination of factors would increase the standing power of the Wards and Protectorate, and indirectly the PRT? What ones would decrease potential damage and maximize the payoff?
Her eyes settled on one line of text in one of the reports, from either Armsmaster or Miss Militia, she wasn't sure who, remarking on the girl's frustrations with people making decisions or talking at her. The girl was a combination of a near-paranoid distrust of authority combined with recent events into an emotional bomb ready to go off. In the reports own words, 'Everyone is an enemy' to her.
Emily Piggot nodded to herself as a method of approach took shape. It was going to be tricky, given the potential minefield the girl was likely to be, but if she played her cards right, then she could turn this into a benefit for all involved. The key would be choice. Both illusionary and real. Start with that and build from there.
She looked at the clock, noting the time. The doctor would be in shortly to get her detached from this and then she could meet with Taylor Hebert. She began cleaning up the files spread out before her, then sent a message to the agent she had escorting the girl around the less sensitive parts of the building. She was going to get unhooked, cleaned up and then she would see what could be done with this situation.
~~~~~~~~
The building that served as the headquarters of the PRT in downtown Brockton Bay was surprisingly welcoming once you got inside. I wasn't sure if this was simply a front, but the hallways I was led down had an air of welcome and comfort about them. It was probably helped by the genuine concern and belief in their duty that I felt from a good handful of the people throughout the building. Nearly everyone I could feel was sincere in their desire to help make things a better place.
There was, however, an undercurrent of hopelessness, a sense of near-constant agitation. I couldn't pinpoint exactly why or where it was coming from as there were enough people in the building that if I dropped my shields to look in depth, I'd be overwhelmed like I was at Fugly Bob's. I followed the agent who had met me on the rooftop. Danica was now guiding me on a roundabout tour to what I assumed would end with the Director's office while I gave half my attention to her and half to curiously looking around as we descended toward our destination.
I didn't know a great deal about the Director of the PRT, but the brief moment I had dropped my shields a little to get a better feel for the people in the building, I had found one who had a lot more occupying their thoughts than what I assumed were the rank and file staff did. That was probably the Director and the impressions I had gotten were of a person determined to do their job no matter what, mixed with discontentment of some sort. Still, I felt somewhat guilty that dealing with me had her here so late.
"I'm sorry to have you here, showing me around when it's so late," I said, glancing at my cellphone's clock as I broke my silence at . It was late. I hadn't realized what time it was, with all that was happening. "I'm surprised the Director is here at all, given the time."
"Well, this is when it gets busiest, actually. Mondays are always long days for her. Meetings during the day and overseeing everything else in the evening," Danica said, grimacing slightly as she glanced in my direction. "She shouldn't pull such long hours though, given her health."
"I can come back tomorrow," I offered, meeting her gaze. "I can find a place to stay and be back first thing in the morning, if that will work better."
Danica waved a hand. "Mondays are just her longest days, is all. Some of us don't think she should work late, though, for her own well-being."
It took me a moment to consider it, but ultimately I decided to probe more on the fact. "She's ill?" I frowned slightly. That could be the person I had felt initially. Determined to do their job even if they were sick. That didn't seem like all of it though.
"Not ill, but not well," Danica explained after a moment, looking off into the distance for a second before smiling. "All the same, while she can be difficult and a few of us worry about her, I don't think I could ask for a better boss."
"Really?" I asked, feeling a strong sense of pride from her even through my walls. She meant what she said about the Director. I turned my head slightly, staring at a wall as I tentatively started to stretch my thoughts out toward others, to see if they felt the same.
"Taylor?" Danica's questioning voice intruded on what I was doing, drawing my attention back to myself.
"Oh, sorry," I murmured, blinking and pulling back. "I spaced out."
"A bit overwhelming, is it?" she asked with a smile. A couple of uniformed PRT agents came down the hall from the direction we were going, talking animatedly. They fell silent as they saw Danica, snapped quick salutes before moving on and resuming their conversation.
"It is a bit," I told her, looking back at the pair for a moment. "Something going on? They seemed kind of excited."
"We had a new Ward transfer in, finally," Danica said. "It's kicked up a bit of a fuss. The Wards are also changing shifts, so everyone's handling that as well."
"Another new Ward?" I asked, smiling wryly at the thought. "A good thing, I hope?"
Danica nodded and looked at me for a moment, measuring me. I kept still as much I was wanted to. For all that she had been amicable and easy to talk to, Danica's gaze now was assessing me in a way that left me wanting to move away or draw her attention to anything else.
"I believe so," she finally said, settling back into the easygoing manner she had before. "I won't lie, as far as capes go, the Protectorate and Wards are outnumbered when you look the rest of the city. There's more villains than both combined and even if you count the independents on our side, we still are at a disadvantage. Everyone we can get is a boost to our effectiveness."
I nodded silently, mulling over her words as she drew a phone from her pocket and looked at something on the screen. Danica sent off what I thought were multiple messages quickly, then looked at me.
"So, the Director's finishing up and should be ready to meet with you shortly," she said. "In the meantime, I've cleared the cafeteria. Did you want to get anything to eat or drink real quick?"
"I'm not hungry," I said with a shake of my head, realizing it was true. I still had the box with the burger tucked into one pocket of my backpack, but there was no desire to eat. I just felt too tired to even take the effort. "I wouldn't mind something to drink though."
"That," Danica smiled as she spoke, "we can do. Follow me."
~~~~~~~~
Vista dropped her mask into a nearby chair. "That was
boring. I get the PR angle, but do we honestly have to stop for every single tourist on the Boardwalk? I swear we're not going to waste our time with stupid patrols of the boardwalk where we end up getting our pictures taken more than actually stopping crime when I get a say."
"Don't you have some growing before the- hey!" Clockblocker rubbed the back of his head, ducking away as she raised her fist menacingly from the other side of the room. "That was uncalled for."
"Not funny," she growled before going over to the miniature refrigerator and pulling a bottle of chocolate milk out. "I mean, I heard 'Oh, you're
so cute' so much tonight."
"Well, you are, half-pint," he said, pulling his own mask off and walking over. She gave him an irritated look as he ruffled her hair, pushing his hand away.
"Dennis, stop," she said plaintively. "I'm not a kid!"
"Missy," he said seriously. "We're all kids as far as Piggy is concerned. It'll get better, I'm sure."
She glared at him. "Easy for you to say. You've got less than a year and you'll be in charge when Aegis switches teams."
"Don't remind me," he said sourly, holding his hands up. "Not looking forward to that. Gallant can have the job as far as I am concerned."
"Excuse me," a female voice interrupted and both turned to see an asian girl with a backpack slung over one shoulder standing in the doorway. "This is the Wards meeting room, right?"
"That's us!" Dennis said brightly. "You're our new member?"
"Flechette. Lily Kitazawa, as well, I suppose." she answered, before smiling and dropping her backpack into a corner chair. "I'm going out on a limb, but… Vista and Clockblocker?"
Dennis laid a hand against his forehead. "I've been found out. Yes, I'm Vista. Don't tell-ow!"
Vista moved her foot off of his. "You're not funny. I'm Vista and he's Clockblocker."
"It's just the two of you?" she asked, looking around at the mostly empty common area curiously.
"Oh, the others are getting ready to go out or just coming in for monitor duty," Vista explained. "We just got back, actually."
"I'm here!" Kid Win called out, rushing into the room and almost stumbling. He was struggling with some part of his costume. "Sorry, dinner was a huge thing and ran long. I'm not late, am I? Please tell me I'm not late. Piggot's going to have my head if I'm late to patrol again."
"You're fine," Dennis said. "We just got back in and were meeting with our new member."
"Oh!" he blinked, looking at Lily for a meet. "Sorry, didn't notice you. I'm Chris. Kid Win."
"Lily," she said, smiling at him as well.
"Nice meeting you," he said, glancing at the other two. "Do you guys know what's going on upstairs? I wanted to get something from the cafeteria to take with, but the guards were out keeping anyone away."
"The Director's meeting with someone," Triumph's voice cut in as he entered with Aegis in tow. "We're supposed to stay out of the way until it's sorted out. That's all I know at the moment. Kid, you and Aegis should be going if you don't want to be late."
"Got it," Kid Win said, going to a locker and taking out what looked like a skateboard. "Ready, future boss?"
Aegis nodded, looking toward him from where he have been speaking to Lily. "Let's go. It was nice meeting you, Lily. We'll talk more when we get back, if you're still here."
"Gallant and Browbeat have the last patrol," Vista said sourly, moving to the couch and dropping onto it with a pout. "They'll probably show up here in a bit."
"What's that about?" Lily asked quietly, nodding toward Vista, who had turned on the television and was morbidly clicking through channels.
"Hm? Oh, that. Well…" He walked toward the other side of the room and Lily followed. "Missy's kind of got a crush on-" The words died in his throat as he slowly turned, to find that the two of them were now standing near the couch.
"Vista's got a crush on…?" The youngest Ward asked, forcing a smile at him.
"On Browbeat?" he finished with a grin.
"No." Vista said, snorting. "That'd just be weird."
He blinked. "Wait, what? Why? He's a handsome guy… I'm told… by people who like guys… I wouldn't know myself. At all."
Lily's eyes sparkled as she covered her mouth with one hand. "I'm sure. Vista, what do you think?"
"Well!" He said, a touch too loud, drowning out whatever she had been about to say. "What do you think is up with Piggy's secret meeting?"
"Someone changing sides, maybe?" Vista wondered. "Seems like it's something important if they're blocking off places. Maybe don't want someone to be seen?"
"I don't know if things are done the same here," Lily said. "But this sounds like the practice if there is someone they don't want seeing certain places or people. Or those people seeing him or her. First time security procedures, it sounds like."
"I suppose if they want us to know, we'll be told," he finally shrugged before almost bouncing. "Who's up for video games?"
"Don't sit near him if you play," Vista said, standing up. "He cheats with his powers."
"I'll play if I get to pick," Lily said, grinning in a way that made Dennis uncomfortable.
"Um, sure?" he agreed with a nervous smile.
"You have Doki Doki Revolution?" she asked, looking over the gaming equipment and the platform with an almost predatory gleam in her eyes that turned into an outright sparkle as she honed in on the appropriate gear.
Vista looked confused at the wolfish grin on Lily's face while Clockblocker, feeling a new sense of metaphorical gaming doom, swallowed nervously as he now-shyly replied in a half timid "Yes…?"
"Perfect!" she said gleefully. "Help me get this set up and we'll started."
~~~~~~~~
I didn't say anything as Danica pushed the button on the panel and the elevator doors closed, beginning its ascent to the floor where the Director's office was. I had a half-finished bottle of tea that barely qualified as such now tucked in my backpack. The brief stop in the cafeteria had done nothing to spark an appetite, leaving me potentially less hungry than I was before I entered.
"Now," Danica said, breaking the silence after a moment. "Please understand that how all this happened wasn't intended to happen as it did. I cannot speak for others, but I can say that while your day was incredibly stressful, keep in mind that none of us, especially not the Director, are against you, Taylor. Whatever you decide, remember that, please?"
I nodded without opening my eyes as I leaned against the wall. "I will." The pace had slowed down after the cafeteria and the energy I had been running on seemed completely spent. Curling up in bed seemed highly appealing now and I wondered if I should put this off until the morning.
No, I was here and the Director was too. Running off now would just sour everything. One way or another, this would be sorted out soon. The elevator dinged and the doors slowly opened, revealing another hallway that looked more or less identical to several others that I had been in since I got here.
"This way," Danica said, making a left turn into a waiting area. In the corner of the space, a door with Director printed on the glass sat closed. "Let me check that she's in and I'll be right back." I nodded and settled into a chair, depositing my backpack beside me as she disappeared through the door.
My eyes drifted toward my pack and I saw the zipper had come undone, revealing part of my costume. I bit my lip at the sight of it. Should I go change into it? Be Sirin for this meeting instead of Taylor?
I shook my head and pulled the zipper closed. No, no point to that now. Everyone who it would mattered with at the moment knew who I was anyways. Putting it on would just be an exercise in redundancy now. Still, I was pulled from my musings as the door opened again and my PRT escort exited and gestured to the door.
"She'll see you now," Agent Dianca looked down at my pack and offered a hand forward. "I could hold that if you want, or…?"
"I don't imagine you'll let me just carry a pack in to the Director's office that hasn't been searched," I said with a bit of forced humor.
"I promise it'll be fine," Danica said while she gave me a small smile "It'll be here when you get out." Ultimately, I nodded silently as I passed it over. I took a deep breath and went in, letting the door close behind me.
The woman behind the desk looked unwell, was my first thought. It was quickly replaced with stern as I looked closer. She was wearing a slightly rumpled white dress shirt, with a similarly rumpled suit jacket in navy blue hanging from a hook to her left. She looked overweight and the artificial light in the room made her pallor look even more off.
Blonde hair shifted slightly as her heard shifted and steel-grey eyes regarded me, weighing in the same manner that Danica had done earlier.
"Taylor Hebert, I assume?" she asked after a moment, apparently satisfied with whatever she had found while assessing me.
"Yes. And you would be Director…?," I said. One eyebrow shifted slightly upward and she nodded slightly.
"Piggot. Emily Piggot, Director of Brockton Bay's Parahuman Response Team," She gestured towards a chair, so far friendly enough albeit I hadn't tried to get a read off of her. "Have a seat Miss Hebert, please."
"Thank you," I said, settling into the indicated chair. "I suppose a thank you is in order for seeing me so late about this." I kept my gaze focused on her. I wasn't picking up anything hostile, but she was also like Professor Si- Armsmaster, it was hard to get a read on what she was thinking. I thought it likely she meant well, but the memory of Armsmaster's actions still sat ill with me. The best way to describe it was that she was
deflective, a focused surface that made it hard to read what was underneath like I normally did.
Her eyebrows shifted again and I thought she was pleased for some reason as she settled her hands on the desk, fingers laced together. "The sentiment is appreciated, Miss Hebert. I hope you'll forgive me if we get straight to business, though?"
I nodded. "Certainly." Definitely the person I had noticed earlier. This close, there was no mistaking the sense that she had a lot on her mind, though nothing more specific than that.
"I am given to understand that your father has signed the papers to admit you into the Wards program," she began and I shifted at the unwelcome reminder but remained silent. "Also, that he intends you to participate regardless of your own wishes."
Her hands did not move in the slightest as she regarded me fully. "While that is certainly within his authority as you are a minor and he your legal guardian. So, in the strictest sense of things, once he placed his signature on those documents, the meeting we are having now became a pointless formality from a legal standpoint."
I nodded slightly, but I bridled the urge to stamp my feet or shout denials. I was both too tired to do so and genuinely curious where she was going with this. Legally, perhaps she was right, but I didn't see how they could really enforce that. But she was leading this to
somewhere, I could feel it.
She drew her hands apart and gestured for emphasis. "Also strictly speaking, that while the paperwork is in his possession and has not yet been filed and recognized by us, they are not legally binding in any way, shape, or form. You currently exist in a sort of legal limbo in regards to this situation. You are not a Ward, or an affiliated Parahuman and do not have any of the standard privileges afforded to such."
"
However," she continued, crossing her fingers in front of her once more. "You do have a series of options open to you in how to resolve this. Of course, provided that your father does bring in and file the paperwork, you legally become a Ward. In which case, while you cannot be forced to participate in any given activity, it does become difficult to operate as a Parahuman in a number of ways."
I frowned even as I tried to passively tap deeper into the sound of her thoughts. But all I got was an echo of what she was saying, laser-focused and clear. "I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean, ma'am."
"Simply put, if your father submits that paperwork, your safety becomes in large part the responsibility of the Protectorate, PRT, and Wards," she elaborated. "Both morally, and more prominently, legally. We are obliged to look towards your well-being, and failure on either side of the line can carry heavy repercussions. There are organizations set up that if feel that some conditions are not being met, can legally intervene to great effect."
"That being said," she went on. "I will be honest with you, Miss Hebert. While I won't deny our need for additional members to the Wards and eventually the Protectorate, as Agent Simmons informed me she had advised you on, I also won't deny that I do not want to add another Ward under this sort of situation."
"My father forcing me, you mean?" I asked, a bit of my temper flaring for a moment.
She smiled thinly. "I'm of the understanding that your situation is not the most stable, from several angles. I have one new Ward that was just introduced today, to add another that is, if you'll ignore my bluntness, as emotionally volatile as you are currently, is inviting trouble."
"But you want to," I said before I could stop myself. "Is it because of being outnumbered?"
The Director said nothing for a moment before nodding, a hint of exasperation leaking through as she sat back in her chair. "It's hardly information that you cannot learn for yourself, but yes. The fact is, the Protectorate and Wards are outnumbered almost two of them to every one of us."
"There are independents and rogues, though," I pointed out, while I tried one last time to listen past the white-noise and hear what she was truly thinking. "Is it really that bad, even with them?"
Her thin smile returned with a grim edge. "Even accounting for them, it is. Unfortunately, many among the independent community are… unreliable at best. A hindrance at worst. For as much good as they do, with respect to them, the PRT and Protectorate have to clean up their messes. Rogues refuse to participate at all on either side, although the ones that are able to follow through on that are either strong enough to evade recruitment or weak enough to not warrant it."
"Isn't any help better than no help?" I asked, frowning slightly at her description.
"All things being equal, yes," she elaborated. "Unfortunately, we live in a city with three different parahuman gangs. Two of these gangs have very dangerous individuals capable of vast destruction. We have an unspoken truce that keeps everything in control, but it's a powder keg, Miss Hebert. One that I have to manage. I will use any resource at hand if it will help prevent the spark that might make this city go up in flames."
I didn't say anything and she continued after a second. "So, yes, though it could potentially be disruptive due to the current situation you find yourself in, I would accept you into the Wards if you chose to join. We need every hand that can be spared and if I'm to manage the powder keg that is Brockton Bay, I will make use of any resource that is available to me."
Something about what she said felt off and I tried to parse what, mulling the words over in my mind. I had no more luck than the other attempts in getting beyond her focus on our conversation. She believed in her words and I could tell she was being honest, but getting any reading of her beyond the context of the job she did seemed impossible.
The realization was like a flash.
Because this is her life. I can't read anything beyond that because her job is all she has. I worried at my lower lip as I considered her words. Granted this key, it made understanding her a bit easier, even though I couldn't go rifling through her thoughts with how focused she was.
"So, if my dad filed those papers and I refused to work as a Ward and continued as an Independent, what would you do?" I asked out of genuine curiosity. She had been straightforward so far and I thought the question a good one to see if she would continue to be or if she would try to deceive me.
Director Piggot's gaze was unyielding as she regarded me. "If you were taking action on your own and partaking in the activities that many Independents participate in, while legally classified as a member of the Wards program? I could and likely
would bring the necessary resources to curb you, Miss Hebert. Several of which would undoubtedly worsen the situation. As I said, a nuisance at best and a hindrance at worst. Use your abilities in a regular set of activities, such as that young woman who does party tricks for children, certainly. Go out as a cape? No. I cannot take the risk that your actions would not disrupt the balance we have here while legally the Wards are on the firing line for any misstep you take."
"Don't misunderstand, Miss Hebert," she told me. "I don't care for the stalemate at all. The gangs have far too much power.
When that breaks, something I plan to delay for as long as possible, I want it to do so on my terms and when it favors us the most. Not the other way around. Until then, as much as I dislike it, there is a waiting game. The alternative is open warfare in the streets and I will not have Brockton Bay become a warzone."
I nodded slowly, considering her reasoning. It made sense. And while I was being deflected from deeper thoughts, she was at least telling the truth about what she was saying. But did she believe it? "And if I joined the Wards? What then?"
Her fingers laced together once more. "Let me answer your question with a question. Why did you decide to put that costume on and go out the other night? You halted some drug deals and a robbery. Why?"
"Why wouldn't I?" I asked, confused. Still, the question did make me pause for a moment as I gave it some deeper thought. When I first got powers, I was content with just using them to marginally improve my own life. But then they had started evolving. Now though? That was a question I hadn't really asked myself. It had been a natural progression from having 'not directly useful powers' to what I had now. And to be honest, I didn't have a clear answer as to why that had happened, so when I started speaking again, I had to hold my voice firm as I passed off my uncertainty with a shrug. "It felt like the right thing, so I did it."
"Just that?" Director Piggot asked. "No other reasons? Fame? The rush of having power over others?"
"No," I shook my head, then thought of something that I hadn't given attention to for weeks. Out of sight, out of mind. Was it just to do the right thing or was part of it that I wanted to show I was better than her? I hadn't put much thought to Sophia since I was rid of her, but I had gotten more serious about my costume and going out after that. I shrugged, pushing aside the thought. "Just the right thing to do, that's all, Director."
Director Piggot eyed me, her expression unreadable before shuffling some of the papers on her desk. "Ultimately, Miss Hebert, I appreciate your desire to want to, as you put it, do the right thing. Which brings us around to why you're here."
I nodded in agreement, but didn't interrupt as she went on. "Your father has filled out the paperwork and intends to submit it to us, I am given to understand. You were or are opposed because of him deciding without talking to you. As your legal guardian, he can do that, unfortunately for you. However, as I mentioned, what happens from there is entirely dependent upon you."
She paused for a breath. "You can resist and revolt, making things difficult in any number of ways, I am sure. We can apply pressure through legal means to try and bring you in line. This would be one of the negative paths as everything would just serve to drive you further against us. You can go from here and as long as you don't engage in parahuman activity until you are of age, we would keep a watch on you, but nothing more."
"Or," the Director said. "You can commit to the Wards, work to do right, as you said. You'll have others with powers that are you age, but there are strict rules of conduct you will have to abide by, along with a chain-of-command and several protocols and such. While the PRT and Wards are not a purely military program, and strictly never have been or will be, you would be expected to follow orders from myself or a Protectorate member."
I rested my elbows on the tops of my thighs, letting my chin settle on my hands as I considered the options she had laid out. I could walk out, that was clear. Even continue as an independent, but if… when my dad submitted those papers, that gave them influence over me and would put us at odds. However, my eyes narrowed as suspicion spun into being at the back of my mind. "There's another option."
Piggot smiled loosely as she nodded, folding her hands in front of her. "Correct. As we have discussed, as soon as your father hands in the paperwork, you are legally bound as a Ward. However, that paperwork is for full membership as a Ward. Taking into account your
unique disposition, we are willing to offer a third option that could benefit us both."
"In short, you accept a form of probationary status in the Wards. A trial run as it were. You would not be bound by the standard rules, and may operate independently provided you worked with the Wards when asked, and that you allowed for several provisions on both our part and your own." Her gaze did not leave mine as she spoke and I got the impression she wasn't done, so I didn't interrupt with questions.
"I even happen to have," she began, reaching into the pile of paper and pulling out a manila folder, "the paperwork for that right here. Provided you and your father sign this, the forms he has are rendered null and void until such a time you chose to file them."
"How soon do I have for that choice?" I asked, gingerly accepting the folder she had placed on my side of her desk.
"In this case, you have little time," she said calmly. "You know your father better than I. When do you think he will turn those papers he has in?"
I grimaced at the reminder and stood, shifting my legs to get feeling back in the spots where I had rested my elbows. "Fair enough. Thank you, Director."
"You're welcome, Miss Hebert," she said, standing as well. "Again, you have my apologies for how all of this has played out. Have a pleasant night." I murmured my own well wishes and quietly left the room. Danica was sitting in the waiting area with my pack in a chair beside her.
She looked up from the tablet she was working on. "All finished?"
"For now, I think so," I said, unzipping my pack and fitting the folder into the inner sleeve where one of my binders was. I fished out the box with the hamburger from Fugly Bob's. "Um, I hate to ask, but is there somewhere I could toss this?"
"We've got one on the way back up," she said. "I assume you'll be leaving by the roof?"
I nodded and shouldered the pack after I had closed it. "That seems easiest, yeah."
"The second Wards patrol just went out a little bit ago, so it's clear," Danica told me, tapping something on the tablet before blacking out the screen. "Shall we?" I followed after her and in just a few minutes, was outside on the brightly lit roof.
"It was nice meeting you, Ms. Simmons," I told her, enjoying the night breeze after the recycled air inside the building. "Maybe I'll see you again soon?"
"Perhaps. Take care." Danica called as I lifted off. I glanced back and saw her heading toward the door while keeping an eye out around the roof before my momentum carried me away from the bright pillar of the PRT headquarters.
--
on any claim of something uniquely American because I've yet to see even one thing that is true to that label.
