Nuclear Fire 73
My legs carry me from building to building, effortlessly crossing the distance of entire tennis courts with each leap. Due to my increased mass the ground beneath me would normally collapse with each impact, but just before touching down the gravity shock absorbers kick in, allowing for a soft landing.
I had grown accustomed to this kind of movement using either The Jump or the Zergling armor, but this time is different. This time I'm carried by my own strength.
How long has it been since I last experienced this? The night sky above my head, the wind against my hair, and the entire city open for me to traverse?
Not since my last patrol with Taylor, already more than a month ago.
I stopped because I wanted to focus on my creations as tinkering was safer and more useful than anything else I could do.
Only now I'm realizing how much I missed it.
Despite appearances, I'm an active person. Even when seated in silence I'm always doing something, be it thinking or keeping my hands busy.
I hate stillness. I hate restraints. I hate feeling that I could be doing something useful somewhere else.
What I love, though, is freedom. I like exploring, finding new things and new sights behind every corner. Being able to say at the end of the day that I learned something new. That I accomplished something different. That I made progress, even if I don't know towards which goal.
I just don't like the feeling of uncertainty and danger brought by the open field, that's why I prefer to stay in the safety of my room. But there's nothing like first-hand experience, and my new powers help me alleviate those fears.
And the best part is that I can do all this while also tinkering! That feeling of cold efficiency is bliss. I can enjoy myself and be useful at the same time, without guilt.
What a mess. At least I'm a functional one.
I'm about to jump over the next street when a hand across my chest stops me.
"No further," Flechette tells me. "This street starts Aegis' and Clockblocker's sector."
With a nod, we turn West towards Capitol Hill and continue on our way. Flechette's wearing a copy of the gravity skates that Kid Win and I built so she can keep up, and from what she told me Kid Win wants to equip all the Wards with a pair like that. He makes me proud.
It has already been more than half an hour since we started this, crisscrossing the city in search of problems to fix and evildoers to stop. And I've been doing this with Flechette because the PRT wants photos of Heavy Gear working alongside the Wards. The only problem with that is that Taylor is our leader, therefore busy, Newt and Nia-- let's just say that the PRT wants to be tactful with them, and Aisha is technically an unpowered civilian, and therefore a legal nightmare waiting to happen. As opposed to a regular parahuman which would also make her a legal nightmare waiting to happen, but at least one that they know how to tackle.
That leaves The Fight and me as the only 'safe options' because Valerie isn't ready yet for the dangers of the city at night. Why Flechette requested to patrol with me instead of-- whatever The Fight is for her, I still don't know.
"Sector CB-12 clear, nine o'clock and all's well," she speaks into her communicator, informing Console of our position and status. I think it's Browbeat who's on duty today.
"You're very professional," I observe, not sure how to feel about that. I appreciate order, but I don't like the way these children behave like soldiers. Flechette is only 17.
She turns towards me, her mouth -the only part that her visor leaves exposed- curled into a smile. "What can I say? I want to give my girlfriend's creator a good impression."
I stumble, lose control of my shock absorbers, and accidentally hit a tile with enough strength to break it.
"Oh, boy," she mocks. "Our insurance won't like that. They always throw a hissy fit whenever we cause property damage."
I quickly compose myself and move on, acting as if the revelation didn't phase me.
"You know." That's not a question, just a statement. Is this why she chose to come with me, to talk about this where The Fight can't listen in?
At least Flechette doesn't seem to mind, otherwise, she'd have been more vocal about it and I doubt that she'd want to keep seeing The Fight if her nature was a deal-breaker. Unless this is the way she announces their incoming break-up, in which case I may need to break Flechette's legs.
"Of course I do," she replies with a shrug. "I'm not telling you the details of how I found out, but it wasn't particularly hard. Anyone talking to her for more than five minutes would have reached the same conclusion."
Yeah, that is kind of a problem with her. She was the first 'proper' AI I built and it shows. She's nothing like Newt and Niah, and even the turrets sound more 'human' than her in their childishness.
"She can be very stiff, can't she?"
Flechette laughs at that. "Dude, she makes Armsmaster look like the soul of the party! But I'm fine with that. It's nice being with someone who just gives it to you straight for a change, which sounds hilarious when coming from me, right?" Yeah, yeah, gay jokes. Classic. "No arguments, no childish insults, no drama. And she can keep up with my training routine, which is a bonus." She suddenly turns serious as she continues. "This wasn't a big secret, was it?"
The Fight's status as a robot?
Well, it would depend on who you asked. The PRT has been very adamant about not mentioning that, and they have put effort into keeping it hidden.
Me, on the other hand? Well, I'm the guy who turned himself into a mass of self-replicating nanobots.
I shake my head. "I never really cared about hiding her identity, and never cared about what she did with her life either." That's not strictly true, I do care about Saint, but right now I wouldn't mind him coming here so he spares me the pain of having to search for him to force-feed him his own entrails. "But you know how it is. Humans already have enough trouble accepting other humans."
"Tell me about it." She releases a long sigh probably full of unhappy memories. Then she goes silent as she reaches for her communicator at the side of her helmet. "And speaking of that--"
She hits the brakes on her skates, coming to an abrupt stop, and from this side, the only thing I can hear of that conversation are Flechette's grunts of acknowledgement. I could easily hack their signal, but under the circumstances, I think that the polite thing to do would be to wait for her to tell me what's going on.
"Empire activity reported," she explains after hanging off. "Follow me." She twists south and I do as she says.
On the way, I use the chance to pick Flechette's brain about the situation.
"Has the Empire been giving you trouble?" Admittedly, I should have asked Taylor and Newt about this before going on patrol, but what's done is done and Flechette is right here.
"Some vandalism, some violence, but nothing like it used to be. At least, from what I read."
Makes sense that they have gone underground. Their remnants know that they are a far cry from what they used to be and that if they step out of line we'll drop on them like the hammer of a god.
"What about their capes?"
"Purity has taken over but she isn't Kaiser. She organized some rallies but has kept mostly to herself. We don't even see her patrolling anymore."
The ability to fly stops being such an advantage when your enemies have anti-air weapons, and you aren't a brute like Alexandria. A Hydralisk could turn Purity into bolognese sauce from a kilometer away.
So far so good, then. As long as we keep exercising pressure on the Empire Remnants by reconquering their territories we'll either force them into unconditional surrender or into a final battle of desperation that we are likely to win. And considering that Purity has more to lose with a baby under her care, the former is the most likely outcome.
I dearly hope that's the case because I want a victory that doesn't take us lots of pain and bodies to achieve.
"We're here," Flechette tells me as we duck behind a water tower to remain out of sight.
In front of us, sandwiched between two apartment blocks, is a two-story building. It may have once been a parts shop but it's abandoned now. At least that's what the signal on the door reads. Evidence to the contrary is the men inside.
Are these the Empire goons?
Say whatever you wished about Kaiser but at least he knew how to organize his troops.
Half of the group inside the building is drunk, with empty bottles littering the floor. There are weapons, but very little ammunition. And drugs, of course, but so little that I wonder if it's not for personal use only.
Something in this entire scenario doesn't fit in. What are they doing here? Why was this place considered worth protecting?
"Three people in the first room," I tell Flechette, relaying the information from my sensor array. "Five in the back. They are all armed with handguns, except for two that have assault rifles."
She peeks outside our cover, maybe trying to see through the dirty windows, before turning back to me. "Damn, I'd like to have one of those visors of yours."
They are amazing, aren't they? Many generals would kill to have one of these, evidence of that being how much Newt likes them. It'd be useful for Flechette to have one of those right now so we can better coordinate, but that technology is something that we don't want outside our control. It's how we link to the Zerg Network, for starters.
But why can't she have something that is just as useful, but far safer?
I have options.
I just need to take this, and take that, and cut some corners here and there--
Yes, yes, this will work well enough!
Flechette glances at me in confusion and then flinches when I push my hand into my abdomen, all the way up to the wrist.
I rummage through my insides for a bit until I find what I'm searching for. My fingers close around the thing and then I take it out, revealing that now I'm holding what seems to be an ear-cup with a see-through panel attached to it, just big enough to cover one eye.
A scouter from the Frieza Force.
An all-purpose computer designed -as the name implies- to scout ahead, identify the location of targets, and relay information to the rest of the team. And with some additions provided by Nova's and Adam Jensen's respective visors, it can also connect to the internet and hijack unprotected radio signals. It also has X-ray vision but it's nowhere near as powerful as mine, being blocked by just 50 centimeters of solid material, like a particularly thick wall.
This is basically a 'lite' version of our scarabs, with several of their more advanced capabilities drastically reduced and with no connection to the Zerg Hive. This turns the Scouters into something that I'm more willing to share with our nominal allies.
I handle it out to Flechette who glances down at it with a bit of apprehension on her face. "I'm not touching that."
Are you for real? I'm giving you an advanced piece of technology and this is how you thank me?
"Don't be a baby," I roll my eyes at her. "It's perfectly safe."
She pokes at it with a finger. "At least it's not gooey."
Some more poking later, she finally accepts it. Thankfully her mask has just enough room to accommodate it without compromising her identity, and after toying a bit with the buttons she activates it.
"Wow," she gasps in surprise at the plethora of new information now at her reach. Surprisingly enough, what she seems to find the most interesting is me. "Why does it say here that your Power Level is 'High'?"
Oh, yes, I forgot about that. One of the core functions of the Scouters was to identify the Power Levels of enemies so you could tell what -or who- to send against them. Even if in reality the villains of DBZ used it only to brag about it like if they were in a dick-measuring contest.
And besides, that function is total crap! It never worked properly, enemies could hide their power levels to surprise the user, and it couldn't detect androids because they didn't have 'life energy'. Meaning that it would be useless against a tinker who fights with plasma rifles instead of brute force. You know, like a civilized person would!
And all that without mentioning that I'm not basing one of my creations on something as abstract as 'life energy.'
I don't even know what the fucking thing is! How do I generate it? How do I conduct it, store it, and regulate it?
I have no answer for any of that beyond some philosophical mumbo-jumbo, and that's why I tore that function down and replaced it with something better.
"The Scouter has a combat algorithm similar to the one The Fight uses," I explain. "You aim it at an enemy and it estimates how dangerous they are."
Flechette nods and immediately aims it down at her own hands. "Why does mine say Extreme?!"
"Because your power can kill Endbringers, remember? In fact, as far as I know, there's nothing that your power can't pierce through."
Her lips shape into a faint 'o' as she processes the information. "Could you believe me if I told you I had forgotten about that? It's not easy being told that you're a weapon of mass destruction."
She doesn't sound that excited about it, but who am I to tell her how to feel about her God-given (and forsaken) powers?
After playing a bit more with the options, she aims it at our target. "We got reports of missing stock in the city's warehouses. I think we found our culprits."
It takes me a moment to understand what she's talking about, and after a second investigation of the building, I find what these Empire goons are protecting: several boxes of relief food that have no business being there. I was so busy searching for dangerous stuff, like drugs and guns, that I missed them.
How the mighty have fallen. From being one of the most dangerous gangs around now they spend their days stealing food that should be given for free and surely reselling it at exorbitant prices.
"How much do you bet that they think they're playing Robin Hood?" I ask out loud. After all, the basic message of that story is that it's okay to steal from the unworthy and give it to those who deserve it. Which side is which depends largely on the individual's perspective.
"Sucker's bet!" She answered before continuing with her exploration. "There's an exit to the back alley. Probably an escape route. And this thing here," she taps the scouter, "says that everyone in there is low level, so there doesn't seem to be any capes around. We should be fine."
How many times did one of Frieza's soldiers say that before being brutally killed? The algorithm is good as a guide but not as a law.
"Don't follow what the Scouter tells you blindly. You never know if someone can trick it somehow." Something I need to figure out how to do. "I don't see masks or costumes, though, so I'm willing to agree with it." I raise, cracking my knuckles as my combat protocols kick in. "So, ready to charge right in and break some bones?"
To my great disappointment, she shakes her head.
"No, we can just call the police and let them handle it."
"Seriously?" I tap my foot on the ground at that. "If it was up to me they'd have already been choking on robots. Or bugs, if it was up to Ladybug."
"Well, sorry to disappoint you but I want to keep this one clean."
I wonder if she realizes that if this was the Brockton Bay of a month ago she'd not only be expected to fight unpowered gang members but supervillains too. Next time I'll go on patrol with Vista, she'll cater to my violent impulses.
Whatever the case, it doesn't take long for the police to arrive after we make the call.
They do it in two waves. The first one goes in quietly, taking positions on the back alley, while the second one charges the front door with their sirens at full volume.
When they hear them, the gang members pick up whatever they can carry and burst out the back door, only to find their exits already blocked by police cars. They don't even try to fight back, they just drop their weapons and allow the officers to handcuff them.
Back in the days before Levithan's death, even this small group would have fought with tooth and nail against imprisonment. Not only out of fear of betraying Kaiser, but also trusting that cape support was just minutes away. Now they fold at the first sign of trouble.
But it's not like I'm going to complain. Brockton Bay is finally starting to look like a functional city, and much of that is thanks to us.
Flechette and I stay back to make sure there is no trouble, and after the policemen have the area cordoned and the criminals on their way to their cells, we leave.
"You know, it's kind of funny," she says on our way out. "The last thing I remember my sister telling me before I cut contact with them was that the only form of love I'd feel would come from a vi--" There's a slapping sound as she quickly covers her mouth in panic.
Oh, she did not just say fucking that! And no, I don't care that she's mortified about my aparent age, that's the least of her problems right now!
"I do know what a sex toy is, thanks you very much!" I snap at her. "My problem is that you just compared The Fight with one."
She grunts, chewing her lips, literally eating her own words. "That-- that was an incredibly stupid thing to say. It-it wasn't my intention."
Hey, you said something stupid and now that's eating you from the inside out.
Welcome to the club!
"I mean, we didn't even--" She continues, immediately cutting herself. "We haven't-- ugh! Why am I having this conversation with a child?"
"I've been told that I'm very mature for my age." Not like that says a lot.
Underneath her visor I see one of her eyelids twitching, but she presses her hands together and with a deep breath she brings herself back under control. "Look, I need to know something and I think you're the only one who can tell me. She's not human. Does she even care about good looks? About money? Does she even understand this whole thing about sex and gender?"
Those are interesting questions. To which I have no answers.
The Fight's primary function was in her name. She only cared about being the strongest one, of defeating whoever crossed her way in singular combat without care for anything else.
To that end, creating relationships, forming bonds with people that were deeper than absolutely necessary was unneeded.
"If you ask me if I programmed her with the ability to feel attraction, I didn't." At least I'm reasonably sure I didn't. It wouldn't be the first time I overlooked something. She feels something akin to attraction towards Armsmaster after all, if only because he can provide her with interesting battles. "But she can learn and she can grow like anyone else."
"Then why me? What did she see in me? Does she hang with me only because of my power?"
"How should I know?" I answer with a shrug. "I'm not The Fight, and I didn't pay much attention to what I was programming when I created her. How am I supposed to know what runs through her head after she has evolved this much?" I make a pause, putting my ideas in order. "But if she only cared about how strong you are, there would have been no need for her to invite you to watch a movie."
Slowly Flechette's lips curl into a smile.
"She's hugely popular with the Latin communities," she suddenly says, catching me a bit off guard. It makes sense, Anime was huge down south so many of my former compatriots should be able to recognize her. "That's why they send us to patrol those areas when we're together. It's kind of cute to see her struggling over what to do whenever someone approaches her asking for an autograph."
I wonder how I'll react when someone asks for my autograph. Assuming someone ever does. Not something I ever thought I'd need to worry about, and right now I think I'll just growl until the offending party leaves.
But that's not important right now.
Flechette is distressed, confused, and if mathematics has taught me something, it's that sometimes the only way to find the answer to a question is to look at it backwards.
"What did
you see in her?"
"I saw someone extremely brave trying to find her place in the world," she answers without missing a beat. "Someone who didn't entirely know how to 'fit in' but didn't let that stop her from fighting on. I found that relatable."
'Relatability'. The ability to see yourself reflected on other people and sympathize with their wants and needs. Not something I ever fully comprehended. But if it works for them, who am I to judge them?
"Why did you decide to become a hero?" Flechette asks back, maybe thinking that now that she opened herself to me, I should answer in kind.
"Because of Ladybug," I reply with a shrug. "She convinced me to go out there and use my powers to build something good."
It wasn't exactly like that. I always wanted to make the world a better place, to improve it until I could look at it and be happy with its state. But the world was too big, too confusing. The task felt overwhelming. I'd never be able to fix it, so why bother?
Helping one person, though? That was something that I could do. Something that I could understand and focus on. That's why I put my manufacturing capabilities in Taylor's hands, and let her be the filter through which I experienced the greater whole.
If we had never met I'd have ended up like a hermit, isolated from the world, building technological marvels for my enjoyment alone, slowly sinking into my misery while pretending that I was fine by acting superior to everyone else.
Shit, thinking back about it, I was on my way to being a Xianxia protagonist. You never become a Xianxia protagonist, only dickery awaits you at the end of that road.
"Ladybug's a weird one, isn't she?" Flechette comments. "I'm still not sure what to make of her. She sounds so optimistic at times. So idealistic. Reasonable, even. And then you realize that she has at her disposal the army of robots that stood their ground against an Endbringer."
"You say that as if those things were incompatible. I say that's the reason why she can be idealistic. The only way to stand your ground against a world that doesn't care is to have the strength to punch back and make it hurt."
Idealism dies the moment you realize that you're seen as just more fuel for the pyre. The only way to be happy is to have the strength to break the chains that bind you.
"The PRT cared for me."
"Good for you." I wave my hand dismissively at Flechette. "Here we had to deal with Coil taking over our branch."
She goes silent for a moment. "Yeah, that-- that was a mess."
"And the only reason why he was stopped was that we had enough troops to battle his PRT and Protectorate on equal terms."
She looks at me up and down and I can almost see some hints of reproach behind her eyes. "Is that why you created her? Because you needed soldiers?"
"Yes," I reply without missing a beat. "Neither Ladybug nor I were valid frontline fighters at the time." Mind you, that has changed. "We needed someone who could take a hit from a brute and punch back. And boy did she show she could because on her very first night out she defeated Lung!"
"Wait, wasn't that Armsmaster?"
Pure propaganda.
"Fuck no! The Fight showed up, stabbed Lung in the back, and he went down. Then Armsmaster arrived and she thought 'hey, this guy looks strong, I want to fight him'." Admittedly, that wasn't the best call ever, but she has been getting smarter since then. "And so she did and while they were punching each other into a bloody pulp Lung healed back up and joined the fray. The battle ended with The Fight stabbing him some more and Armsmaster injecting him with his super tranquilizers."
"So not only he defeated Lung but also saved her life!"
I raise a finger ready to argue, but it takes me a moment to come up with a valid argument. "I'd say it's a matter of perspective. After all, without the hole in his scales, Armsmaster wouldn't have been abel to get the needle in."
She doesn't answer and pushes on with our patrol in silence. I feel she's a bit angry at me right now, maybe about the fact that I created a person that she appreciates as a tool. But even if that was her origin that doesn't mean that I see her like that. Just like with Newt and Nia, I created them because I needed their powers, but that doesn't mean it's the only thing I appreciate from them or that I'll discard them if they can't fulfill that purpose.
They are my friends.
And besides, what's so bad about being a tool? I consider myself such but that doesn't mean I can't be happy in that position as long as I approve of the way I'm wielded.
"There's something else," I say, hoping to clarify that point. "If all I wanted was a mindless machine there'd have been no reason to give her a mind or the ability to grow. I wanted companionship. Ladybug is nice and all, but there are things that I don't feel comfortable talking with her about."
There was a time when I never thought I'd be surrounded by this many people. It makes me happy.
"I know what you mean," she replies, sounding less tense. "This job would drain the life out of me if I had no one to do it with."
See? I can be relatable too! Let's push my luck a bit.
"So, it's your turn. Why did you become a hero?"
I kind of know the answer to that, but I want to hear it from her.
"It just happened, I guess." She tries to smile but looks away. "My family-- I never had much of a family, always bouncing from place to place. When I got my powers I was found right away, then the Protectorate told me 'hey, come join us, we have food and shelter', I was like 'sure dude, okay', and here I am."
What she doesn't say is that she had been put in the foster system because her family was declared incapable of looking after her, and that she triggered when one of her blood relatives pushed her into the tracks of an oncoming train.
She never had much tying her down to any one place or organization. That was why she had no trouble leaving New York for Brockton Bay, and later abandoning the Wards and joining the Undersiders.
"Ever thought about quitting?" I ask her.
"And do what? Go back to being a window washer? No, thank you!"
I guess it'd be difficult to think about an alternative lifestyle if you only ever knew one.
"Say," she continues. "If you created The Fight for companionship, no hard feelings if I steal her from you, right?"
I'd argue that you can't 'steal' something -or in this case, someone- who isn't owned by anyone. But I understand where the question comes from.
"Not in the slightest. She's her own person and can make her own choices. But if you hurt her I'll have to break your legs."
"Oh, I think she'd be more than capable of breaking my legs herself if I ever do something that displeases her!"
It's nice to see that they are getting along so well.
The rest of the night continues without further incidents, and almost without noticing it, it's time for us to part ways.
Flechette's hands reach for the Scouter to give it back, but I stop her.
"Keep it. The Fight doesn't have a cellphone as far as I know, so you can use that to talk to her."
"Thanks! I'll make sure to keep it away from Kid and Armsmaster's greedy hands."
Not like I particularly care, but I appreciate the sentiment.
Flechette leaves, and checking my watch I realize it's only eleven o'clock. For lesser mortals, it'd already be time to go to sleep, but that's a biological imperative that I'm slowly growing out of.
Shit, I do sound like a Xianxia protagonist.
At least I still experience mental exhaustion and need time defragmenting and sorting through the memories of the day, but I can do that in only 1 hour instead of 8.
With all the extra free time now at my disposal, I'd fear going insane not knowing what to do. But, as Flechette well put it: it's not about what we do but who we do it with, and I already have plans for the rest of the night.
I head towards our base to the North-East, but then continue going further on towards the coast.
A portal could have easily taken me to my destination in the blink of an eye, but I want to enjoy this. I want to take my time not thinking about anything serious, and allow all those thoughts about the many challenges we still have ahead to go silent.
I want to relax.
At least, for the time being.
Soon enough I reach my destination, a section of the pier that hasn't been cleaned out yet, where the painting on the buildings has been peeled off, windows are nonexistent, and toppled cars and debris still clog the streets.
Why is it like this? Further down south our drones have already cleaned the place and people are slowly returning. This is our territory! Why isn't it clean?
The one to answer my question is Newt, who's already waiting for me there, seated cross-legged atop a pile of bricks that may have once been a wall. "Because if it was we wouldn't be able to do this."
Next to her, Nia is playing with her hair, curling it around a finger. "It also serves as quite the devious trap. If someone triggers, where do you think they'll go to test their new powers? We keep an eye out for stuff like that, and snatch them the moment they show up."
I smile at them.
After my upgrade, I'm reasonably sure that I have all the tools I could ever want to solve most situations I'd ever face. What I lack, though, is the experience to use those tools creatively.
Without that, I fear falling into the trap of comfort, relying too much on what's easy and proven, and being unable to adapt to changing circumstances.
That's why I need them.
I need someone who's just as capable as me but fundamentally different. Someone who I can bounce ideas around with, who doesn't always agree with me, who forces me to look at things from new angles, and who makes me consider ideas I'd have never thought about.
But just as I hope to learn from them, I hope that they can learn from me. I want to be just as much of a challenge for them as I want them to be a challenge for me, so we can keep pushing each other higher and higher.
An old ghost in the back of my mind tells me I won't be able to.
The idea of giving up halfway-through and disappointing them fills me with dread, but I want to do this. If I'm pushed down I don't want to roll over and leave, I want to pick myself back up again and continue on. The only way I'll know how to do this is by going through it. And maybe, just maybe, by having fun in the process.
My systems run hot as my combat protocols kick in. All in non-lethal mode, of course, just in case.
I flex my arms, entering a combat stance. "Ready when you are."
Newt jumps up to her feet, folding her arms over her chest as she summons her combat arms. "Ready and eager!"
Nia, though, remains just where she is. "I'll stay here and keep an eye out for when someone needs to have a limb reattached. Or who knows. Maybe once one of you is about to claim victory I'll sneak in and kick you in the back of the head to make things interesting."
The cheeky cat-fox.
A pity that she's a water-bender or I'd already have a water gun with her name on it.
With a mental command, the bridges that confine my mind to the inside of my skull lower, and I allow my consciousness to flow freely and touch the rest of the Hive.
I dip my toes into that ocean of information, just enough not to overwhelm me, but enough to feel Newt and Niah's emotions just at the edge of my perception.
I'm proud to say that right now, at this precise moment, I'm happy.
"May I have this dance, my lady?" I ask Newt.
She smiles in response and lunges at me with a fist covered in flames.
I return home the next morning, at about 7 am, just in time to hear Danny's mildly panicked voice resonating through the place.
"Taylor, where's your math book?"
"Right here, dad."
"Good, good. And the history one?"
"Don't need it. History classes are on Thursday."
"Oh, yes, right."
"Dad, chill. Everything's going to be fine."
"I know, but I still get nervous. I don't want us to be late."
Today is the official reopening of all of Brockton Bay's schools.
At least, all those that survived.
And Danny sounds excited about it. Maybe more than should be healthy.
I'd argue that it's impossible to be late for anything when you have portals that can take you to our destination in the blink of an eye, but that's not an option if we want to keep the illusion that we're a normal family. Because of that, we need to first teleport to a secluded location, and from there do the rest of the trip on a bus.
A discomfort, but if it's for everyone's peace of mind I'm willing to put off with it.
"And where's Peter?"
That sounds like my cue to step in. "Hello family, I'm back!"
Danny turns around to address me. "Ah, Peter, there--" Only for his eyes to widen and his face to bleach. "What happened to your arm?!"
I look down at where he's aiming. "Uh-- would you believe me if I told you that I completely forgot about it?" Everything from my right shoulder down is missing, ending in a sharp stump of crystalized metal. "But it's okay, it's just a flesh wound."
Nia kind of ran out of juice about six hours in, and so there was some cosmetic damage that she couldn't fix on time.
It's so nice to consider the loss of a limb just 'cosmetic damage'.
"Oh, you don't get to make jokes about it, young--" He stutters, as if unsure of his next words. "Person!"
"Man, Danny. You can say that. And seriously, this isn't a big deal. I just need a minute to fix it and--" I turn around to head towards my lab but get stopped by something that I wasn't expecting to see there.
Why is Valerie floating upside down in the middle of the room?
"Tech-Priest! So nice to see you back!"
It takes me a moment to realize that she isn't 'floating' but hanging from a pair of mechanical tentacles that keep her affixed to the ceiling. And she has an extra pair that ties around me, which she uses to give me an awkward hug.
Awkward for me, at least.
"Something tells me that you watched Spiderman last night," I tell her.
"I did! So fun. And so many new ideas I want to try!"
"Put him down, Valerie," Danny tells her. "And put on your uniform."
It just occurred to me that in just a couple of weeks Danny has gone from being the single father of a single child to having three hyperactive children under his care. Arguably more if one counts the turrets. I pity him.
Wait, uniform?
"Are you going to school too?" I ask her.
"Yes! We'll be classmates! It will be so much fun!" She then proceeds to shake me up and down and I'm happy that I no longer have a digestive system or it'd be inside-out right now.
The scene makes Danny chuckle. "I managed to get her into Clarendon too. But she'll go to a grade lower than yours."
A tinker under my care being treated as a normal child? Preposterous! Once I'm done with her, universities will start fighting for her approval!
I'll start working on that as soon as the world stops spinning.
"Now, seriously," Danny insists. "We're leaving in 10, so get ready!"
With her cheeks puffed in annoyance, Valerie sets me down and heads towards her room to get changed.
I don't need to, as I can summon clothes at will, but I still need The Illusion to make me look like a human so that's what I go get.
Oh, and a replacement arm. Can't forget about that.
Our first day at school ends up being fairly normal. All in all, I'm even surprised that so many of my classmates still go there as I'd assumed that their families would have left the city, but humans are stubborn.
Most of the morning we spend with the teacher explaining to us how we'll move forwards to catch up lost time, so I tune all that noise off and patiently wait for the hours to roll over.
Once it's all over I sadly don't have time to celebrate my freedom because Lisa immediately calls the core group for an emergency meeting.
"My dear gentlemen!" She announces, and only after she has said that does she pay attention to the assembled group. "My dear-- gentlewomen and Belisarius Cawl?" And finally, her eyes land on me. "Oh, screw this. My dear gentlebeings! Yeah, let's go with that."
To my right, one of the turrets raises a leg. "I identify as a heavy machine gun."
I'd say that 'heavy' is being a bit generous, but who am I to pop her dreams?
"That's lovely, my dear."
Lisa's standing at the foot of the table, opposite to the head where Taylor is, and at her back is a whiteboard that currently remains empty.
Whatever reason she has for calling us all here, it was important enough to even invite Parian. The rogue dressmaker doesn't look particularly happy with it -her complete disinterest for participating in the 'cops and robbers' game is well documented- but whatever Lisa told her was enough to pique her interest.
"Now, on to business!" Lisa claps her hands and the whiteboard comes to life with the help of The Illusion, showing an image of the old world, with Portugal to the left, and Japan all the way to the right. Connecting West with East there are several red lines that look like the branching pathways of a river. Lisa points at them and asks: "Who here can tell me what the New Silk Road is?"
The what? I know what the old Silk Road is, but since when is there a new one?
"The one that connects Europe with East-Asia, correct?" Taylor offers, showing why she's at the top of her class.
At least she was getting there before classes were suspended.
"Correct!" Lisa confirms, aiming an index at her. "There used to not be a rail connection that allowed people to travel from Berlin to New Delhi until Leviathan came around. With sea trade down the drain, new markets had to be reached."
I see, this is one of those features exclusive to Earth Bet. One of those that I didn't know much about because it was never relevant to the original story.
"We learned this in school," Taylor complains. "We know."
Not me!
"A moment, a moment." Lisa raises her hands in a placating gesture and her eyes quickly dart to me, making it clear for whose sake this exposition is. "I want to set the stage. Without access to American products, Europe started importing grains and meats from the East." She then goes quiet as she joins her hands together. "But here's the part that you may not know: the statutes that regulate these agreements were all declared under a state of emergency, ready to be lifted at a moment's notice, but because Leviathan was never defeated they remained untouched for more than a decade."
"But now he's dead," I say as the pieces fall into place inside my head.
"And several European countries are already looking into new trade ventures! Many are rushing to rebuild the ports that they let fall into disrepair." Her lips curl into a smile making it clear that she intends to beat them to the finish line. "In particular, my sources tell me that Germany is willing to end its contract with India if they find someone who can provide grain at a cheaper price."
I'm about to ask her who her sources are until I remember that she became all buddy-buddy with The Meisters after the Leviathan fight.
What she's proposing-- it's huge. This is the opportunity we've been waiting for! Oh, I can already see it, shipments going in and out from all over the world, connecting people in ways never before possible!
Go suck an egg Arasaka, we will do it better.
"And we can provide it," I say, fantasies of world domination swirling around my head.
Lisa then proceeds to quickly murder them. "Well, technically no because we don't own any farms. Not yet at least. The American market will have to take care of that."
To her back, the image in her whiteboard changes once more. There's an American flag to the left, a German one to the right, and connecting them two arrows are crossing through one of our portals.
"What we will provide is the transportation system," she continues and the whiteboard switches to show a map of the United States with several trucks drawn on top going towards a city to the north of Brockton Bay, before turning south towards us.
"Why are they doing it like this? Why aren't they coming straight to the Bay?" Taylor asks, sounding a bit frustrated with the image.
"Because we're still considered a volatile location. And even more volatile people," Lisa explains. "The idea is to install a feeding buffer in Boston, away from our control, where the product can be processed and fractionated before being sent to the Bay. It's not a perfect situation, but it's a good start which will open multiple opportunities for us."
Freaking politics.
The image shifts for a final time showing a single word: 'questions?'
Yes, I have several, but Danny's the one to shoot his hand upwards first. "How many jobs will this generate?"
"Thousands!" Lisa replies excitedly. "The farmers will need more hands to cover the new demand, plus all the people we'll need to keep this chain of distribution working, even when the transport is instantaneous. Here is BB, we'll need people to unload the trucks, organize them in the warehouses, and then send them off. And once we prove that this system works, my next plan is to open portals exclusively for tourists!"
We already knew that people were excited to come to visit the location of Leviathan's final stand, but the city is simply in no position to receive them.
We can fix that.
By opening hotels, restaurants, and setting up many other entertainment industries we'll see even more money being brought in for the betterment of society. I'm sure it'd be easy to get foundings for a museum of the battle, just for starters.
"Why was I invited here?" Parian is the next one to ask a question, her expression hidden behind her porcelain mask.
Lisa lifts a finger that she proceeds to wave back and forth. "Because, my dear, yours will be the first American luxury products that our firm will start commercializing in Europe. Imagine when they are told that they can get a dress made by one of the parahumans who witnessed Leviathan's death!"
Oh, yes! Let's just take whatever price-rage she's working in and add a zero or two to it.
"But-- I wasn't--" Parian stutters. "I was in a bunker."
I reach out for her and pat her in the arm. "It's okay, we'll keep that secret." It's still technically true that she was there, and what people don't know won't hurt them. If anything, it'll advance our interests. And with that out of the way, I throw out my question. "What about the stuff that they can sell? What German products can we introduce to the American Market?"
If we make this flow both ways, we'll get access to twice as many products and resources.
"Well, Germany is a leader in car manufacturing and heavy machinery," Lisa starts her explanation. "That's sadly a problem for us because most of their stuff can't-- fit through--"
She goes suddenly quiet, likely having noticed that I've gone into scheming mode.
The small size of our portals is a serious problem to overcome if we want to become a true logistic lead. Not even a forklift could drive through, and that becomes a serious problem when we want to transport bigger things, like cars or furniture that we can't dismantle into smaller chunks.
Dragon Ball doesn't give an option to enlarge the portals but gives me something that is just as good: the capsules.
They work similarly to the Aperture Scaling Cube.
You put whatever you want to transport inside a quantum dimension, and then you lock it inside a container small enough to fit inside your palm, no heavier than a cell phone. We wouldn't be able to transport live animals this way because the process would prove fatal, but we could transport an entire truck fleet this way. The trucks and their contents both.
Oh, yes, this opens so many sweet possibilities! "Give me a couple of days and I'll have a solution for you."
"That's what I wanted to hear!" Lisa replies with a mischievous smile. "Anyone else?"
"Yes, me: how many people will we piss off with this?" It shouldn't come as a surprise that it's Taylor asking that.
In response, Lisa throws her head back and starts laughing. "A lot! A whole freaking lot!" That should come as no surprise. "All of India, for starters. And if more countries jump to our side, expect China to get angry next."
That one will get super ugly, but we've already managed to piss off almost every other villain organizations around, adding the Yàngbǎn to the list won't change much.
The only thing that means is that I'll have to introduce new weaponry to our arsenal, something that I was already planning on doing.
"That's just the nature of competition," I say with a shrug. "We need to think about our people first before we start thinking about others."
"And I fully intend to approach India next," Lisa adds to that. "I'm sure that they have several products that they'd like to export to America."
Yes, that's true. We need to remember that this will be a two-way road, and as long as we give the same opportunities to everyone equally-- well, there will still be a lot of angry people, but we'll feel less guilty about it once we suppress them.
"Okay, let's do this," Taylor agrees after a moment of thinking. "What do you need?"
"Only your approval," Lisa says rubbing her hands together. "With that, I'm off to Boston to meet their Major!"
"Will you be fine on your own?" Taylor asks with a bit of concern. "Boston has many dangerous villains."
Lisa waves her hand dismissively at that. "So did the Bay and look how that turned out! You could use the excuse to export your brand of Justice where it's needed."
I'm sure that would make the PRT so happy. But if we do this and fully embrace the concept of being an international enterprise, we'll need a new name.
Something catchy.
Something like The Justice League!
No, I'm kidding. That one's probably trademarked and we still need to kill the Simurgh before we start thinking about building a private space station.
I can't believe that I've reached the point where building a private space station is within the realm of possibilities. It wouldn't even be that hard.
"I'll think about it," Taylor replies, sounding unconvinced. "But, seriously, won't you need protection?"
Lisa smiles and, just for a moment, her eyes land on me. "Protectorate Boston will be in charge of my security. And if someone does try to be clever I have some surprises of my own for them."
After polishing some final points -especially with Parian- our meeting comes to an end.
This is good.
This is really, surprisingly, good.
Here we stand on the verge of bringing people together once again. Of reverting the slow decline this world has been going through, and pulling it out of the abyss, kicking and screaming if necessary.
Will it be easy? I don't dare to hope so, but that doesn't mean that we won't do it. It's just a matter of moving onwards, one foot at a time.
I'm happy with this plan, and I'm even happier to be part of it.
…
A/N: Mostly a set-up chapter. It was a bit hard for me to write because this is the start of the next major arc and so there were a lot of things I needed to polish for the future. I'm not entirely happy with it, some parts feel disjointed, but with my idas now in order and the road ahead clear, I'm eager for what's to come.
With most of the drama and angst out of the way the team is ready to move on in the world. Some would say that they are growing complacent. They have big plans and even bigger dreams but let's see how many of them survive the next chapter.
