Welp, this month was a rollercoaster of emotions! Even if it sometimes felt more like a Drop Tower of emotions. At one point an oil truck crashing inside a service station and spilling 5000 liters of oil all over the place was involved. Plus university plus some personal stuff.
But enough about me, it's chapter time!
Nuclear Fire 82
All in all, things went fairly alright.
Yes, I went on a rage-induced rampage that almost ended in me blowing up half of the Bay in an attempt to punish all those that had offended us, but it wasn't all that bad.
The realization that Nia would have gotten hurt if I hadn't brought myself back under control was a powerful motivator to do exactly that.
I want to believe that this ended up being the kind of stuff that we can all look back at and laugh about.
And yet, there's one thing that I have yet to confront.
After a good night's sleep that even I enjoyed -the mental exhaustion hit me so hard that I slept for the full eight hours for the first time in weeks- Taylor called me to talk.
A girl saying that she needs to talk? That's never good.
The fact that, when I arrive, she's holding the manga of Cardcaptors Sakura doesn't put me at ease.
"Is this where you get your ideas from?" On a table next to her there's a small pile of other reading material. From the Dragon Ball mangas to what looks like a black-and-white copy of a gaming magazine announcing the release of Starcraft.
Well, no point hiding this any longer. "It is. May I ask where you got all that?"
"I talked to Glory Girl after she seemed to recognize what you had turned into. Something about the full moon and a giant monkey." Taylor flickers through the pages of the book before putting it aside. "Why didn't you tell me?"
I can't tell her emotions from the tone of her voice. That either means that she doesn't see this as such a big deal, which would be a huge relief, or that she's pushing her emotions into the Hive, which would be an absolute disaster. She is just finding out about secrets I kept from her, after all.
"Well, the reason--" I start saying, trying to get my ideas in order, but then I realize something important. "You know what? That's an excellent question!"
Why didn't I tell her? Outside of Xenoblade, nothing of what I've been using should be beyond the reach of Earth Bet. And with 11 years of unaccounted life before coming to Brockton Bay all that knowledge should have been easy to justify. I could have simply said 'oh, yes, my family got it for me before they all died'. And because the only witnesses would be dead, there would have been no one to disprove my tall tale.
I think I was simply scared. I was never big on sharing things with other people, especially my hobbies. The few times I did the reaction was mockery. That's why I stopped doing it. After finding out that this knowledge was suddenly tied to my very survival, the need to keep it close to my chest grew even stronger.
"I think I was embarrassed," I finally admit. "Do you have the faintest idea how hard it is to admit that I'm into this sort of stuff? Heck, I'm not sure how to break it to Danny that I'm into media aimed at little girls." That reminds me, has Friendship is Magic been released already? I'll need to check it out.
Taylor gives me a long, unamused look. "Dad would tell you that if he had any objections mom would come back to haunt him."
Uh, that's true. Annette was big on the whole feminist movement before it went to utter shit.
"But I get you," Taylor continues. "Back in Winslow, they gave the kids that were into this sort of stuff a tough time."
Gods be praised that I never went to a hellhole as deep as Winslow, but I'm familiar with that experience.
"To be fair, Winslow gave everyone a hard time."
"Unless you had the money to throw around."
"Or you were part of a gang."
Taylor snickers at that. "Funny to think that I have both of those things now."
"But no Winslow to abuse them in." I wonder what her life would be like if she still went there in her current position.
"And thank heavens for that! Or thank us, I guess." Her lips crack into a smile as she glances at the pile of material that Victoria got her. "You know, I tried to find out where you took Newt and Nia from, but I couldn't find anything." My hair stands on end. "And with the way they look, I'm not sure that I want to find out."
Is she--
Oh.
I'm not sure I like the implications here, but I'll let it slide for now. Better for her to think whatever she wants over having to explain the entire time travel deal.
Freaking house of cards and lies.
"You know what? I don't think you do." If she keeps researching all this, I'm so much not looking forward to explaining to her what 'ecchi' means.
She shakes her head. "I'm not getting into that one. And now I'm happy that Aisha isn't here to make fun of my phrasing."
"Is she, though? We can never be sure."
"In that case, the best thing we can do is ignore her." Taylor shrugs. "And while we are talking about things that you have built, what about the weapons from last night? Are they safe?"
Oh, yeah, those. What was I thinking when I named them 'Final Flash Cannons'? I may as well have named them 'doomsday machines'. But then again I kept the name of the Zerg and those are arguably worse.
In any case, with a mental command, I summon a screen through which I see the drones dismantling them after having transported the cannons safely back to the base. The invisibility shield proved to be invaluable to move them without anyone being the wiser.
The sad reality is that the cannons aren't anywhere as impressive as their names may suggest. Currently, they are capable of reducing several city blocks into a crater, yes, but they still have a long way to go before being able to burst planets.
The problem is the energy source.
In theory, they can shoot beams on the level of what Vegeta was capable of, their frames would sustain the strain, but I lack anything with that much output. Maybe I'll eventually build a powerful enough generator, but what would I use it for? I don't want to shoot a planet-cracker while still on the surface of said planet. Maybe against the Endbringers, but not against Behemoth or Simurg who could take control of the shot. Maybe if one of the other Endbringers shows up, but if that happens the Hive will easily rebuild the cannons because I did save the blueprints.
I'm keeping one of them intact in case of a rainy day, but the others I'll be recycling because there are far more useful things I can do with the parts.
"Surprisingly, they are very safe," I reply. "Even in my state, I did remember to put several safety protocols in place." I'm so proud of myself for that. "You could damage them and they wouldn't catastrophically explode as long as they aren't primed. Even then I installed several venting valves to make any potential failure as manageable as possible." Heck, it even sounds like rage-me had better foresight than regular-me.
"That's a relief. But what about the portal? Glory Girl told me that you were trying to open a portal like Haywire had."
Admittedly it was Nia who tipped Victoria off, but she's letting the hero carry that responsibility.
"That's the part that worries me a bit," I admit tapping the tip of a foot against the floor. "It's theoretically possible to travel across dimensions by focussing enough energy in a single point. But do you know how dangerous that is? Any mistake and I'd have blown the planet up, or input the wrong address and opened a portal to Hell."
Taylor flinches, her eyes widening. "Is that possible?"
"Well, I don't know! But in a theoretically infinite multiverse, eventually we'll find a dimension that's so similar to the Christian depiction of Hell that any difference could be ignored." I'll need to be extra careful if I ever get Doom.
"And where were you trying to go?"
This is the most difficult part to explain.
"I don't know. I combed through all my data logs and found no mention of what dimension I was trying to reach."
Nia's theory makes sense. Where else could I be trying to go if not Cauldron's base? But here's the thing, I have no freaking idea how to get there! I don't have their address and it's not like I can open a phone book and look for it! So what the heck was I trying to achieve last night?
I don't have any concrete evidence, only supposition and conjectures, but if I'm right then it wasn't 'me' inputting the address.
It was my shard.
Shards and parahumans share a very deep bond. At the end of canon Worm, Queen Administrator believed herself to be Taylor the same way that Taylor believed herself to be Queen Administrator. Everything that the parahuman knows so does the shard. Which would mean that mine knows about Worm, the ending, and Eden's status and general location.
My power is in a prime position to reach her and--
And do what?
Consume her? Reactivate her?
That'd be beyond catastrophic.
"Is this something that we'll need to worry about every month?" Taylor continues, putting an end to my train of thought.
I shake my head. "No. I calibrated all my systems and I have full control of my transformation now." To demonstrate the point, I shift my hand, making it grow to three times its size with claws as long as my forearm. I could make it even bigger, but this should be enough. "See?" This is the same cycle all Garu go through. The first transformation is the messy one, but after that it becomes second nature.
"That's a relief. And what will you--" Taylor's words are interrupted by the sound of a portal opening, followed by Lisa walking in.
"Hello, my dear minions!" She greets us with a wide wave of her arm. That, plus her wide grin, almost manages to distract us from what an utter mess she is.
Seriously, she looks like she washed her costume in a washing machine without taking it out. Her hair looks like she's trying to cosplay as a lion's mane and even her mask is crooked.
Thankfully I don't need to point out any of that as Taylor does it for me.
"You look like crap."
"I feel like crap too, honey." She dances around us looking as if she's struggling to keep straight. "I had a wild night! Maybe not as wild and messy as yours but long all the same."
"Want to share?"
"Some other day. For now, I need our Peter to build something for me because I'm organizing a big meeting for next week and I'll need your help to carry it out!"
After the little excitement from the previous night, nothing like returning to the good old routine to get your life back in order. The silence of my workshop and the precise peace of manual labor are welcome respites from everything that has been going on.
The tangible progress towards a clear objective does wonders to lift my spirit.
I still have Lisa's commission to fulfill, but that will take me the rest of the week and in the meantime, I'll build some extra equipment for the team. The best part is that rage-me had some really good ideas for new gadgets to use, and because my systems did save those blueprints they are very easy to reproduce.
The assembled crowd this time isn't particularly big. It only consists of Taylor, Aisha, and the turrets because the others were busy, but I expect those not present to read the user's manual once I'm done writing it.
"I've made an extensive review of our arsenal, and overall I'm extremely happy with our lethal options. Recent events, though, have put into evidence the need for more non-lethal ones. Especially against brutes and other armored targets that could shrug off a tranquilizer dart."
Aisha raises a hand. "Can't we just chop off their legs?" Her question earns her a bitter look from Taylor. I don't see why because that's a valid question, one that I already considered.
"Even if we can patch the wound to prevent blood loss, we need to consider the possibility of regenerators that could do it on their own, or masters that force us to fight against controlled hostages that we don't want to harm."
One of the turrets raises her leg. "What if the leg turns into a monster?"
"Well, that is--"
"And then that monster would run around chopping other people's legs to add legs to his army of monster legs!"
"Yes, that--"
"What if another brute grows from that chopped leg?" Another turret proposes.
Like Lobo? I don't think that's how powers work.
Or does it? With the corona and all that, there can only be one parahuman at a time. Except when there are exceptions. Would Crawler be able to do something like that?
Powers are weird.
"What about long-term mental trauma resulting from police brutality?" A third one says.
"Don't be silly!" The fourth one adds. "We aren't cops!
Next to them, I can see Taylor's eyelid twitching.
"And maybe--"
"Yes, I get it!" My yell puts an end to this derailment before it can keep going any further. "I think that the point has been made. With so many varieties of powers out there, it's better to always have the option and not need it over needing it and not having it."
"Like a condom, yes."
I knew that Aisha was about to say that! I knew it the moment the words left my mouth. I'm not sure why it still surprised me.
Whatever.
The first item I want to show them is a metallic sphere the size of a baseball. "This grenade carries a payload similar to the one I used against you the other night. Once it detonates, it releases enough goo to trap a grown man inside it." I toss it to Aisha who catches it mid-air.
The grenade is very light, perfect to throw at an enemy across a room and maybe capture him alongside his accomplices.
Aisha lifts it above her head and rolls it in her hand as she examines it. "Can I put it inside someone's backpack? What about a laser, like in the movies? Or a string to tie it up? Put them above someone's door frame?"
My shoulders drop a bit because all the stuff she's asking for are things I already considered. "I wanted to add a lot to this. Not only a timer and an impact trigger but also a proximity trigger and maybe a radio trigger that would allow you to detonate it at will. But adding all that would require so much material! It wouldn't just make it heavier but also more expensive."
This is something that we'll be hurling all over the place. I don't want to make it too technologically advanced because then I'd have to add extra security to prevent an enemy from stealing my tech. Or a tinker from hacking it. It'd be embarrassing if an enemy could detonate them in our hands.
But then I start thinking.
Why would anyone need every single grenade to have all those features? Its purpose is to explode. The moment I select the mechanism through which it does so, all the other ones become redundant. Only the core remains constant.
"What am I talking about?" I start walking from side to side, my thumb underneath my chin. "I don't need to build the whole thing from scratch with all those features. I just need to build the trigger. I could upgrade your suit with a micro-forge. That way you could select which trigger you want to use, build it on the spot, and then attach it to the grenade you want to set. That would make the whole system far more flexible without sacrificing--"
My rambling gets interrupted by Taylor's coughing into her hand. "Excuse me, but I think you have other things to show us."
"Yeah, get on with it!" Aisha says.
"Get on with it!" The turrets repeat.
I was having a moment here!
Oh, well.
"Taylor, this is for you." Earlier today I asked her to lend me her tranquilizer rifle, and now I'm giving it back with some upgrades. "See this button that I added? It allows you to pick between your standard tranquilizer darts and goo-bullets. They're too small to cover an entire person -you'd need several shots for that- but this is a precision weapon."
"So I need to aim for their joints," she says, receiving her new weapon and testing its weight. "Maybe glue their ankles or hands together. If they have weapons I could jam the triggers or the barrels."
I said it before and I'll say it again. It's nice working with smart people.
"That's the idea! And with Aisha taking care of the close range and you of the long-range, the only thing missing is the medium range. And that's when you guys come in." I gesture at the turrets.
"New toys!" They cheer.
Their gift is inside a locked box big enough to accommodate all 4 of them and leave them with enough space to move around. When I open it, I reveal it to be full of marble-sized pellets. More Goo-bullets, individually as effective as Taylor's, but with the turrets' fire rate they can saturate an area in around the time it takes an enemy to blink.
"Banzai!" One of them says before jumping in, and soon enough the others follow her example as if they were children playing in a kiddie pool.
It's nice to see them happy.
"Now, you two," I say, turning back to the girls. "Do be careful when using this. Unlike with the containment foam that the PRT uses, people can't breathe if this gets inside their mouth and nostrils."
That's something that slightly pissed me off. The goo shares many of the containment foam's properties. It's impact resistant, elastic, and resistant to both extreme temperatures and electricity. The problem is that it isn't porous, so we can't 'shoot and forget' without risking some casualties.
It's insulting that they have better technology than I do. But I guess that even a broken clock is right twice a day.
"It's not like Nia can't snap her fingers and fix it," I continue, "she's amazing like that, but that's still something we need to be careful about.".
Taylor gives me a look before nodding. "Not aiming at the face to avoid attempt murder charges, got you."
"I mean, not unless we want to, right?"
"No cruel or unusual punishments, Aisha. You know I'm no fan of them," Taylor sighs before turning back to me. "Also why are you telling us this and not the turrets?"
Just as she finishes asking that question, we hear a 'pop' and turn just in time to see what looks like a pink mole the size of my fist stuck to the side of one of the turrets.
It only takes a heartbeat for their machine guns to unfold, and a second one for all hell to break loose.
A surprisingly brief hell, thankfully, but the moment that the ra-ta-ta-ta stops there's a pink ball in the middle of the room that has the legs of one of the turrets sticking out of it.
I'll need to commend their aiming because they didn't get us involved in that. Or was it simply because they didn't have the time to spray the room?
"Because of that." I throw a thumb at the pink blob. "I trust you to handle this properly. Yes, even you, Aisha. But with them, I already gave up. I'll call the drones to take care of this mess."
At the very least it's not that hard to clean. We do need to wait for the outer layer to harden, but once it does the drones' plasma cutters can crack it open as if it was a jawbreaker. Very appropriate considering that I based this substance on Boo's anatomy. It's even recyclable!
And talking about the magical, murderous, gummybear--
"Aisha, here. This is for you."
My last gift is a belt. A band of conductive material encased in a flexible shell, with a power source where the buckle should be.
"You know, you keep saying that you don't want to date me yet you keep gifting me clothes and accessories."
I roll my eyes. She knows that in reality, I'm old enough to be her father.
"So, what does this--" The moment she locks the belt around her waist she notices that gravity no longer has a hold on her as her feet detach from the ground. "Oh, now we're talking!" She straightens up, taking control of her positioning and starts drawing circles above our heads.
It's so rewarding when everything comes together.
Building the flying belts was surprisingly easy, it took me less than a day, but the problem was building an onboard VI that could take care of all the adjustments necessary to guarantee a stable and guided flight. Without one of those, even the faintest twitches of the body would send the user rocketing into a wall. Something that I became deeply intimate with when I tested them for the first time.
Taylor didn't have so many problems with The Fly card because The Flight is a VI, but Dragon Ball tech isn't as user-friendly. Yes, a normal person can just grab one of these belts and spend a couple of months training to learn their intricacies, but who'd want to do that? A big waste of time if someone asks me.
It took me several bumps in the head, but these flying belts are now ready to be mass-produced and distributed to the entire team.
I'd tell New Wave to eat their collective heart out because they are no longer the only family of flying capes in the Bay, but they no longer exist.
"You do realize that you just gave Aisha the ability to fly, right?" Taylor asks me.
Oh, yeah, the little gremlin was already a menace without 3d movement.
"Don't worry, I'm fully aware of the consequences of my actions."
"No, you're not!" Aisha yells from across the room while flying away.
Well, I'm sure that everything will work out in the end.
The movie reaches its end, the credits rolling to the sound of 'When You Wish Upon a Star'.
With a snap of the remote, Newt turns the TV off. "We are not showing the drones that," she says with an edge of anger in her voice.
I throw her a glance. "Why not? It's a cute movie." I recognize that it has problems -I call Dragon a dumb Pinocchio for a reason- but I still have fond memories of it. Back when I was a child I owned the book of the Disney version and I'm reasonably sure that movie is the reason why I never smoked. The scene of the children transforming into donkeys traumatized me. Something that only later I found out was insultingly racist because donkeys are very intelligent animals.
Newt leans back on the couch, rubbing two fingers against the side of her head. "Pinocchio gets told to go to school and he's expected to blindly obey despite no one telling him why education is important. He gets told to avoid temptation but not what temptation looks like or why it's bad for him. He also gets constantly punished for telling lies yet is never rewarded for telling the truth. Heck! At one point he escapes prison thanks to his long nose. And don't get me started on Jiminy Cricket. He's vastly underqualified to be anybody's conscience. In summary, the only reason why Pinocchio went to Pleasure Island is that everyone around him failed to do their damn jobs!"
Uh--
When she puts it like that--
Goddammit, propaganda! Always striking when I least expect it. Things like these keep turning entire generations into mindless drones!
It is a bit ironic to say when the kids started their lives as mindless drones, but they are evolving past that. If anything I want to instill in them a healthy dose of criticism.
This does raise a question, though,
"Aren't you all about order and discipline?"
"Not with my children," Newt replies with a shrug. "Also, the entire point of the story is about how Pinocchio isn't 'real'. I don't want to tell them that."
I pinch my chin. "That's very true." If at any point they believe that there's something inherently 'wrong' with them for not being humans-- I'll burn whoever tells them that. Slowly.
Still, I don't want to give up on Disney just yet. There are many movies that I like. Aladdin, maybe? Not sure about The Little Mermaid, it has been ages since I last saw that one.
Wait, I'm dumb. Mulan! That should be perfect. I'll need to look up if it exists in Bet or get it imported if it doesn't.
"What about this other one--" Newt says, tapping her arm. "Ghost in the Shell! That's its name. You like that one, don't you?"
I roll my tongue inside my mouth while I think about the idea. Ghost in the Shell has, in many regards, the opposite message. Humanity is evolving, that's perfectly fine, and we need to reevaluate what 'humanity' even means and how we interact with our technological developments.
At least that's how I choose to interpret it.
A powerful message that I fully agree with, but then again it has naked ladies in it. Would it even matter? Do the drones even understand the concept of sexuality like we do? I have no idea and I'd prefer to show them other stuff before confronting that possibility.
"I want them to have more experience before showing them that one," I reply and we're back to thinking.
The big problem I have here is that I don't know what Bet's entertainment landscape looks like. Whatever I may need, I can get it from Aleph, but that takes time.
I need something from before the 80s and very wholesome.
Wait, that's it!
"The Addams Family!" I proudly proclaim standing up.
"The who?"
"Oh, I have so much to teach you! I'll get the episodes so we can watch them tonight. I feel that we'll all find it very relevant."
A family of supernatural entities that the rest of society doesn't understand and label as monsters? A family that sticks together, loves each other dearly, and only wants the best for its members beyond greed or selfishness?
That's exactly what we need.
It's funny, in a way. My main concern when evolving into a mechanical being was how I'd survive the future. How neither poison nor sickness would be able to doom me.
I was so concerned about building all those walls that I never thought about the bridges I could build with that same material. All the opportunities that would open to me, and all the new joys I'd be able to experience.
For example, singing.
My voice no longer sounds like the laryngitis-riddled offspring of a rooster and a toad. I can tune it to any desired volume and melody! The knowledge of how to use it still evades me, as does the skill to write good lyrics and the drive to sing on my own, but none of those things are worth worrying about when I'm just a backup singer.
"You take my love,"
Nia sings into the mic, not to anyone in particular as we're alone. She dragged me into this because she wanted to practice and I was free.
"You want my soul,
I would be crazy to share your life,
Why can't you see what I am?
Sharpen your senses and turn the knife,
Hurt me and you'll understand"
She takes a deep breath before hitting the next note.
"I'll never be, Maria Magdalena!"
Damn, those are amazing lungs! And also my cue to step in.
"You're a creature of the night."
"Maria Magdalena."
"You're a victim of the fight." I'm so happy that she changed her name or that line would have been very awkward to say. "You need love."
"Promise me delight."
"You need love," I repeat and then wait for the next line, but it never arrives. Nia puts the mic aside and turns towards me.
"Okay, no," she states with a sense of finality in her words. "I'm not feeling it from you."
I blink back at her. Did I mess up somehow? "What do you mean? I did fix my vocal cords to be on point." A perfect tune, meticulously calibrated to ensure the most delicate flow and effect.
What could possibly be wrong with my performance?
"Exactly!" She yells, aiming a finger at me. "Where's the fun? Where is the passion behind your performance?"
"I did have a lot of fun preparing it all." I feel the creeping need to avert my eyes and look at the ground, but keep them leveled. "Selecting the right frequency, testing it all over and over again until I got it just right. The performance then gives me the quiet satisfaction of a job well done, of an operation successfully planned and executed."
Nia presses her lips into a thin line. "Yeah, that's the thing. You live either in the past, thinking about what went wrong, or in the future, thinking about what could. If we're going to sing, I need you here with me in the present."
"And you have me. Because my passion is helping you. That's why I want you to have the best tools you may ever need."
The past exists to be learned, and the future is an incoming wave we need to prepare for. Only the present can be enjoyed as long as I have people to do it with. My satisfaction comes from seeing them succeed.
Nia reaches out and pinches my cheeks. "That's so sweet. But I have no use for a perfect tool. I want some broken emotions! And yes, I am aware of what I'm asking out of you. Like, come on! We're trying to make some art here! And art that's perfect is boring."
I take a step back, breaking the contact and folding my arms.
Was my approach wrong? I just want to be there and support her in whatever she may need. But is that what Nia wants or needs? I want to be a proper partner, but am I turning into a crutch.
Fuck.
I need to recalculate.
But I don't like emotions! If I need to feel, all I need to do is to look outside or read the newspaper. And then the spiral starts because the feelings keep coming and I don't know how to stop them.
And like adding too much paint to a canvas, it all quickly turns black.
When I'm like that I just want to scream and let it all out.
Wait a second--
Maybe that's exactly what we need here.
"You want some emotions? Fine, I'll give them to you. Give me some heavy metal, some Sabaton, and I'll blow your eardrums off!" Screw all those careful calculations and all the balancing acts. I'll just yell and hopefully, it'll all work out in the end.
Uh, it's kind of nice not worrying that much about the outcome.
"I'm taking notes," Nia replies with a smile. "And talking about taking notes, did you read my next chapter?"
Oh--
Dear. I was very happy when she asked me to beta her work, but now comes the ugly part of telling her the parts that I don't like.
"I did." How do I break this into her? "How historically accurate do you want it to be?"
Her eyes narrow and I feel a chill running down my spine. "Explain."
"Well, Viking society was far more brutal than you're making it to be. They wouldn't care about sparing women and children. I mean, you can change it--"
"No, no," she interrupts me, "you already gave me your opinion. I wouldn't have asked for it if I couldn't handle it."
That's a relief. And yeah, I need to remember that she's a tough girl.
"If you want to go along with this, show your character as an exception. Or maybe use a different society? Not sure who, though. I'm partial to Romans but they were worse than the Vikings. They basically invented Imperialism. China? That one was also very complicated."
"But Vikings are cool!" She argues back. "Burly men dressed in wolf pelts venturing the seas for fun and profit? I like it! Just imagine what a peasant would have felt! You're tending your fields, your only concern being the rats in your barn, and then bam! You see the longships on the horizon!"
I don't need to imagine that. There are many great records about exactly that. "Ah, yes, the Great Heathen Army."
Nia cocks her head looking at me as if I had started speaking in Sumerian. "The what now?"
And suddenly I feel like slamming my palm against my forehead. "The Viking army that invaded England? It was kind of a big deal." I take a deep, calming breath. "Look, you know that I respect your work. And yes, Vikings are cool and all, but they have a story attached to them. If you don't acknowledge it, you will turn into the kind of person who'd write a Kriegsman or freaking Gilgamesh as main characters, and then make them nice because they are difficult to handle otherwise."
She pushes air sonorously out of her mouth. "Where would the fun be in that? They are assholes and that's the entire point!"
"I know, right?"
Her eyebrows knit into a frown and she taps the side of her mouth as in deep thought. "Wait, I think I know what I'll do! I'll send you my second draft later."
"Okay, good luck!" I tell her as she dashes away. "And can you please read a history book? They are full of great ideas!"
"Never! My imagination can come up with better stuff!"
That girl's going to be the death of me.
Not that I'd mind.
My little-- what should I call it? Escapade?
My little escapade from the other day left me thinking: how strong am I? What are my limits? And I'm not talking just about hard data here but also about comparative numbers. I know that in my War Form I'm strong enough to pick up an armored truck and hurl it across a baseball stadium, but is that any kind of impressive in the cape world?
Glory Girl should still be stronger than me, even if I currently hold the edge in toughness.
I have no idea where I stand when compared to the likes of Fenja and Menja.
And Alexandria would dwarf all four of us combined. At least for now. I'm working towards closing that gap.
If I wanted to figure out how much weight I can deadlift I could do it in the safety of the base, but I want more data. Besides, I'd need to build dedicated machinery to do that and why should I waste my time doing that when I got some perfectly serviceable ones offered to me?
"Okay, listen to this idea," Browbeat tells me while squatting. From his shoulders hang a harness that should be weighing almost like a compact car. "If we change the perspective from a literal to a philosophical one, the act of worship is aimed towards emulating the guiding principle behind the person or school of thought you offer tribute to. Being a Christian, for example, would be more about upholding the spirit of the teaching of Jesus Christ and less about blindly repeating rites. In the same vein, the ones who worship technology are the inventors, while the consumers are the average church-goers. The ones who do it only out of routine or to be recognized by the communities they are part of."
I'm seated opposite to him with my legs hanging from a reinforced chair. I flex them up and down while steadily adding more weight to them.
This is the gym that the Wards and other Protectorate-affiliated heroes use to train, with equipment calibrated for brutes and movers.
"You've changed your argument since last time," I point out.
"Yes. Our talk got me thinking about it and this is the new paradigm that I established."
To my side, there's a dialer that I steadily turn up. I'm not exactly sure how all this equipment works without opening it up -I suspect a combination of magnetic fields and gravity manipulation- but it does its job well enough. Right now I'm lifting the equivalent of a van.
Back to Browbeat's argument, it'd be easy to take his words and say that, from his perspective, people don't worship 'gods' but themselves, and the communities they form part of. Divine figures would just be the anthropomorphization of their shared customs and rules.
That's something that I can agree with.
Reminds me of a quote from Fallout New Vegas. If aliens arrived and saw a school for Elvis impersonators, they'd assume that he was our god. And how could we argue against that when we have places where hundreds of people go for the express purpose of learning how to look, move, and talk like him?
If that's not an act of worship then I don't know what it is.
"So you're saying that the oxymoron isn't about worshiping technology but about worshiping something without understanding it, correct?"
"Correct."
Sounds good enough.
And yet there's something that doesn't sit well with me here. Copying something is all well and good but there has to be more to it! Imitation may be the sincerest form of flattery, but it's also a spiral that falls toward mediocrity and stagnancy. How do you stop that fall? Where do you insert criticism and self-reflection?
Where do growth and progress fit in that equation?
"Alright, but consider--" I start saying, but then my words get interrupted by the screeching sound of tearing metal. I jerk back in my seat and when I look down I find that everything from my knees down is missing.
Well, no. Not missing. My legs are right there, on the ground, away from the rest of my body.
"Are you alright?" Browbeat asks, walking up to me.
"I just tore my legs off."
"And?"
I open my mouth but find no argument worth making. He's right, this isn't such a big deal.
"Nothing. Pointing out the obvious helps me rationalize it."
"That must be why people do it all the time."
It doesn't take long to fix the problem after Browbeat hands my several limbs back to me, something he may be accustomed to with Aegis around. Once they are secured back in place and I give them a moment for the wound to close, I get back to lifting.
"Is it safe to do that?" Browbeat asks, glancing at the dialer that I haven't turned down. "Won't you break them again?"
"It's fine. If anything, that's the entire reason I'm here. My body gets stronger every time it gets damaged."
"Impressive. So can I, to a degree. But the more I improve my biology the harder it is to go further."
"You're something like a reverse-Amy, aren't you?" Plus a special addition of tactile telekinesis that allows him to lift objects without them breaking under their weight.
"I am. But I admit that I envy her capacity to read foreign biology. There's so much more I could do if I could."
I can imagine. If Amy meets a mutant with a weird power, she can touch it and learn how to replicate it. Browbeat only has his own body to work with.
"Have you tried asking for her help? She could modify your body allowing you to read and implement the changes she makes. Extra points because you'd be able to reverse any modification in case of an accident."
He pauses for a moment, folding his arms. "I haven't thought about it. That's a good idea. I'll call her once I'm finished with my current project." He turns around and equips his harness. "I'm testing different ways to strain my body to see how it reacts to different stimuli. A breakthrough is very close, I can feel it, but I need something that can strain my whole body all at once. I'd try swimming to the bottom of the ocean but I haven't yet figured out how to adapt my lungs to extract oxygen from water."
This gives me an idea.
"Would a gravity chamber that reaches up to 100 times Earth's gravity be what you need?"
He straightens up, looking intrigued. "Tell me more."
"And in this humble ceremony, the gravity chamber gets officially inaugurated."
There's a clipping sound when I use a pair of oversized scissors to cut the ribbon blocking the entrance, and after putting them aside I urge the audience in.
Well, 'audience' may not be the correct word to use considering that only one person is attending but she's the most important person that could be involved with this.
This room will open several new avenues of research for Valerie and me. Super dense material that we can compress at high gravity, chemical mixtures that would be impossible outside zero-g, precise shape that won't collapse under their weight.
But if there's someone who will take it to the limit, that's Sun.
Not for the first time, I'm left wondering what's going on behind that emotionless face of hers that could humble the best poker player, but she follows me inside and that's enough.
The interior resembles the ship that Goku used to travel to Namek: round, about the size of a tennis court, and with a central pillar that goes all the way from the floor to the ceiling where the main console is located. The only difference from its canon counterpart is that I removed the engines because I have no reason to travel to space. Well, no, I'm lying. I have many reasons, just no means because the Simurgh is still up there.
"What do you think?" I ask and Sun cocks her head to the side as she looks around.
"Sparse."
Well, yes, that's true. This is a big, empty training area designed for a bunch of meatheads who lived and breathed martial arts. Why would they care about having something like a gaming console when they had room to move around? Bunch of savages in my opinion. But I assume that this is something that Sun will like and that's why I built it for her.
"Let me show you its features."
First things first, I lock the door. Very purposely I didn't install any automatic locking mechanisms in it, choosing instead one inspired by the doors of ships. It has several latches that I have to set in place before the gravity generator can be activated. This isn't just so the effect doesn't 'leak' to the outside, but also to ensure that whoever is inside knows what he's doing before activating it.
Just in case I also added multiple safety measures to immediately kill the generator in case of an accident.
This thing is scary!
At 5 times Earth's gravity, a trained human athlete would find it almost impossible to move as his body would weigh more than his muscles can lift.
At 10, if he were to take a step his bones would break under the strain.
In theory, a human skeleton can keep its shape up to 90 times Earth's gravity, but the person would have long ago suffered complete organ collapse. By virtue of the skin having ruptured and the organs having spilled all over the floor.
The generator I build reaches up to 300. At that point life as we know it has long ago become impossible outside of bacteria.
And yet Goku and Vegeta treated it as a walk in the park.
No, no! I'm not thinking about their insanity again! That road leads to madness.
With all the safety precautions in place, I walk up to the console where a '1G' is on display. A dial next to it allows me to set the multiplier. How much to input? I'm not getting anywhere near the triple digits, but I want something impactful.
I think that a 10 will do. That's the limit of human survivability, and we're far stronger than humans.
I punch the number, press the big red button and--
An alarm flashes across my eyes as I suddenly find myself knowing what the ground tastes like.
I glance to my side and see that Sun is also in a similar state having been forced on her knees and struggling to keep herself upright.
We may be able to survive and even move in this gravity. My joints and muscles are more than capable of resisting this pressure. But my internal gyroscopes are going crazy and I'll need a moment to recover my balance.
'Are you okay?' I try to ask Sun but the only thing that comes out of my mouth is a broken gargle. Why?
Oh! The increased gravity doesn't just affect us, but it also affects the air that surrounds us! The molecules are being compressed against the floor, and as a result, the sound waves are getting distorted.
That makes no sense!
Not the part of gravity distorting sound. If I had spent 5 minutes remembering my high-school physics lessons I'd have realized this was about to happen. But how the heck can Goku and Vegeta speak normally when inside one of these?
No! I promised myself I'd stop thinking about the physical impossibilities that Saiyans are capable of. That's why machines are better, those I understand!
Maybe this is why the humans of the show never trained in gravity chambers? They wouldn't be able to breathe.
Something to ponder about some other time.
Okay, as a demonstration this has gone on for long enough, so let's put an end to this.
Except that I can't use voice commands like this! And I didn't install a remote control because I didn't want to risk someone taking over from outside the chamber. I need to reach the console!
If I can move a bit to that side-- no, no, fingers aren't supposed to bend that way!
This is proving to be far more difficult than I was expecting, but out of the corner of my eye, I see Sun steadily rising. With heavy steps, she walks up to the console, and then she doesn't exactly press the off button but more like lets herself fall on it. Good thing that I reinforced the keyboard so it'd withstand all the punishment we'll be subjecting it to!
When the pressure of the gravity field is lifted off my shoulders I jump up like an unfolding spring, feeling almost weightless as I recover my balance.
If I still needed to breathe I'd be struggling to put oxygen inside my lungs right now.
"So, what do you think?" I ask Sun, who's staring at her hand as she flexes her fingers.
The corner of her lips curls into a faint smile. That's the most expressive I have seen her when not around Flechette. "I like it."
That's music to my ears.
"Glad to hear that. Right now I'm the only one who can keep up with you so if you need a training partner don't hesitate to call me."
Sun turns to stare at me, the smile never leaving her face. "I won't."
I hope I didn't just screw myself over. I'm so much not into this whole 'exercise' thing, but I am into helping my friends.
That's the only problem with the technological boost Sun and I enjoyed. Our growth rate is unmatched by the other members of our team, and while we're steadily becoming stronger the others are being left behind.
Like Yamcha.
Let's add yet another bullet point to the list of things I'll need to fix.
I remain still, not allowing my body to twitch or even blink. An easy task once I've lowered my muscle sensitivity to my mental flux, channeling my emotions into paths of redundant RAM. A little trick that I learned from Taylor.
Are all these theatrics truly necessary? I'd argue so. This isn't a show of strength, and I'm not trying to frighten my opponents either. What I want to do is to project confidence and trust. Something that I'm not all that familiar with but that I'm forcing myself to learn at a record speed.
In front of me, to my right, is Valerie. She's standing a bit taller than me as she's supporting her weight on her lower mechanical limbs, the upper ones curled above her head ready to strike. She looks like Dr. Octopus about to go fight Spiderman.
To my left is the Booster, piloted by 63. The combat mecha is in a fighting position holding his warhammer in both hands.
They asked for this. They wanted to test themselves against me and maybe learn a trick or two.
My first instinct was to ask Newt to take over. After all, if what they wanted was to learn how to properly fight she's a far better teacher than I am.
But then she asked me something that left me cold.
Did they ask me because they wanted to train or because they wanted to spend time with me?
I am 63's creator, his father, and Valerie's savior and role model. It is me who they look up to, not Newt.
That was a somber realization.
Being someone else's example and beacon? I recognize how much of a mess I am and firmly believe that imitating me would be a mistake. But if this is the path that they want to follow, then that means that I need to be better for their sake.
It's terrifying.
"Begin whenever you're ready," I tell them, waiting for their move. I could have done it myself but I don't want to either overwhelm them or be surprised. Being too aggressive may frustrate them and being defeated may disappoint them. I need to keep a balance here.
At least, that's how I believe this is supposed to work. I have no experience with these sorts of things so I can't be sure.
"Here I come!" Valerie yells.
Okay, first thing first, I'll need to explain to her that announcing her attacks is a bad idea in the middle of combat.
She lunges at me, and I get momentarily surprised when claws spring forth from the back of her combat arms.
Wolverine? Did she already get into X-Men?
I sidestep, letting her slash through empty air.
That's when 63 joins in, swinging his hammer with enough force to topple an armored van.
I dash towards him, ducking underneath the handle and rolling between his legs. On my way to the other side, I punch the back of a knee forcing him to the ground.
That's when a string of spider-like web ties itself around my wrist.
"Got you!" Valerie cheers.
Did she, though? She's the one holding the thread, she didn't tie it to anything solid, so if I just pull--
"Oh, no, oh, no--" She struggles as I steadily pull her towards me. She could just let go of it but she hasn't figured that out yet.
The binding then gets severed when 63 swings his weapon in sword mode, slashing at me in the same movement.
Nice!
But that's hardly a surprise. Not only has he been training under Newt but he's also a Zerg. A conqueror of galaxies with the combat protocols to match. The big problem here, though, is that Zerg battle with the advantage of numbers on their side, each unit a sacrifice worth making for the sake of the whole. 63 is no longer like that and needs to learn how to leverage his individual might.
Besides, no matter how much theory you know, reality rarely bothers to listen to our expectations.
I lean backward to dodge the blade and stumble when I find my food stuck in place.
While I was distracted by 63's attack Valerie saw the opening and attacked, gluing my sole to the ground.
Good show of teamwork! Even if that was most likely a coincidence and not a pre-prepared combo.
Her web is amazingly strong and I have trouble breaking out of it. Did she reinforce it with carbon nanotubes, perhaps? Whatever it may be, it sadly doesn't help her here. All I need to do is jank my foot and tear it out alongside a piece of the floor.
"No fair!" Valerie pouts but what can be done about it? She needs to learn these sorts of things now if she doesn't want to get a nasty surprise out there later.
She tries to shoot me again but 63 blocks her line of sight as he rushes into the fray. He lifts his hammer over his head and--
Hits the ceiling with it.
Oh, dear. We better stop this before--
"Got you!" Valerie cheers and once again I find some of her web entangled around my wrist.
Didn't she try this already? She should already know that--
Oh! Her web is conductive! And she just unleashed enough electricity to stun an elephant!
It sadly accomplishes very little against me.
"Did that do anything?" She asks me, maybe noticing that I'm still on my feet.
I'm tempted to tell her that it at least stung or something, but I don't want to cheat her either. Honesty will have to do.
"Sorry."
She releases a disappointed sigh and glances at 63 who glances back. Just then a piece of the ceiling drops from the hole he just made.
This exercise has reached its end. We'll use a bigger room next time.
Some minutes later and with the damage fixed, I sit the kids down for a talk.
"So, what do you think?"
"We were a disaster!" Valerie proclaims, oddly cheerful, to which 63 beeps in agreement. "But that's okay, isn't it? It's all about the ite-ite- itinerary?"
"Iteration," I correct her. "You got as far as you could, learned from it, and now you can do it better next time." Something that I find far easier to say than do but that's the spirit.
Valerie pinches her chin giving me a very serious nod. "And what did we learn?"
Oh, for the love of--
It's okay, it's okay. They are just children. They are here to learn and I'm here to teach them.
I so much wished that Newt was here.
"63," I call and he perks up. "Be mindful of your surroundings and your size. You don't want to crash into the walls when you move around." I pause allowing him to process my words. "And Valerie, a binding is only as good as the surface you bind the object it to. Next time try to glue my hands together. That would have been more effective."
Just telling them this stuff is easy, but knowing when to apply it? That's hard. And it'll be largely up to them because experience is the best teacher. That doesn't mean that I can't prepare them, though.
But enough about work! Recently I got my hands on something from Aleph -or, better said, Tattletale got it for me- and I think this is the perfect time to give it to them.
"Hey, look at what I got for you!"
From behind one of the panels in the wall emerges an unaugmented drone carrying a package the size of a book. I pick it up and give it to them.
Like if it was Christmas, Valerie and 63 don't waste a second before they tear it open and find themselves holding 3 DVD cases.
I point at them, one at a time. "This is Batman The Animated Series, Superman the Animated series, and Batman Beyond." It doesn't end to amaze me that there's a market for stuff like this in Earth Bet. I'd assume they'd lose interest after superheroes became real, but people still enjoy police dramas too so there's that. Must be the entire glamorization of it all.
Val turns the cases around, checking their weight and looking at the pictures. "Do we need to watch them in order?"
My insides twist as I formulate an appropriate response. "You don't." That's a lie. There's an order, a continuity, and my instincts demand it be followed. But I'm not them. "I watched them the way I'm giving them to you and believe that's how you'll get the most enjoyment out of them. But do as you believe is best."
They share a glance and a smile as if they were two mischievous siblings who know that they're about to get into a mess and enjoy every moment of it.
But then their expression shifts. I can see a hint of sadness on Val's face and my muscles tense, fearing that something I won't like is about to happen.
"Hey, why didn't you let 63 go to Vista's birthday?"
If I still had any spit inside my body, I'd have choked on it.
I was not ready for that question.
I could say that I didn't want to go either, that technically he wasn't invited, that this came so quickly that we didn't have time to prepare.
But those all would be cruel lies.
I did think about it. We all did. But the existence of 63 and his siblings remains a secret, one that we don't want to reveal yet.
The turrets were there, but people know them, and even if I'd never call them 'dumb' they don't have a level of intelligence that people could recognize and fear. Also, they can't self-reproduce.
Sun, Newt, and Nia were there too, but as far as most people know they are cases 53 or cyborgs that I -willingly- enhanced.
But the drones? Revealing them during Leviathan was already a gamble that we only won because we beat the bastard and saved a lot of people. But if it becomes public knowledge that they are reaching human levels of intelligence, surpassing them even, then I don't trust the masses to not do something stupid.
In my silence, 63 draws closer, and when I expand my senses to reach into the Hive I can taste his fear.
No. I won't allow him to feel this way.
I reach out and place a hand on top of his head.
"I love you." The words weigh in my voice. I don't think I ever told anyone that. Not like this. "We all do. But there are many out there that won't. People fear what's different from them because they don't understand it. And when they label someone as 'other', labeling them as 'lesser' is the next logical step. That's when they start stealing from them."
"Vista would do that?!" Valerie squeaks out.
I open my mouth to say that she wouldn't but hold back. Would she? The simple answer is that I don't know her well enough to tell.
"I believe that she's a good friend, but when someone's faced with something that contradicts the way they understand the world, they get scared and will try to remove what frightens them. Contradicting the rules of the world is a tinker's specialty."
Valerie puffed her cheeks, folding her arms. "If she gets scared that easily then she isn't a good hero. Would she try to hurt 63?"
"Some of the worst atrocities in history were committed by those who were utterly convinced that they were in the right."
Val's expression changes once again. She looks away, almost contemplative for a moment.
I reach out to her and ruffle her hair too with my free hand. "That's why we must always be vigilant of what we do and why we do it." I look down at 63 who keeps staring back at me. "We will make people accept us. Either because they realize that we're all the same or because we leave them with no choice. That I promise all of you." And even if they don't, what does it matter? We have each other and we're better than those dumb humans. Not that I'm going to tell him that. That's the kind of thing that he should learn on his own.
I just don't want them to get hurt. Not in a way that I can't be there to prevent or rectify.
63 beeps, satisfied by my explanation. He grabs Val by her pants and slowly drags her away, but then she stops, rushes back to me, and hugs me. A brief one that she quickly breaks.
What was all that about?
Likely some emotional thing that I don't understand.
Oh, well, this all went reasonably fine! I think! We had some fun, we talked, we bonded, and I gave them some shows that will hopefully not only entertain them but also inspire them.
And once they are done with them, bam! I'll reveal the existence of Justice League and blow their tiny minds away!
I'm so looking forward to their reaction to Amazo's return and Ace's death! Yes, I was several years older than Val when I watched it and it still left me as a sobbing wreck but that builds character!
And then, once I've instilled into them the importance of proper continuity, I'll get them into Avatar.
Why did no one tell me that having children was this time-investing?
But I'd be lying if I said that I'm not liking it.
Saturday.
Finally.
For some days not -since my transformation, to be precise- I noticed a slight shift in the way my power operates. At first, it was a subtle change, something that at first didn't catch my attention but I'm slowly realizing now that my brief stay with Dragon Ball is coming to an end.
Let's take the Senzu Beans for example.
If last week I'd tried to make them, my power would have given me two options:
Option number one would have been a protein pill chock-full of nanobots and enough compressed raw material to build a second human being. Difficulties during excretion aside, that's not how the beans are supposed to work.
Option number two would have been a headache.
That's something that always happened whenever I tried to push my power toward the more esoteric pathways. Whenever I tried to build anything that involved the realm of souls and gods, I crashed against a wall.
Not anymore.
If I try to build the Senzus now-- well, what I get isn't that useful either, but it's different.
My power now asks me to build a tower so high that it would double as an orbital lift, and to bioengineer a humanoid cat to look after the plantation.
The flying nimbus? The first step would be to build Kami's lookout and then hope for the best.
The freaking dragon balls? Get a hammer and a chisel and start shaping a piece of rock into the form of a dragon.
I feel like my power is trying to understand how these wonderful items operate, trying to make them work, but they are so outside its field of expertise that the only thing it can do is ignore the substance and replicate the shape.
Oh, dear Lord, my power is turning into a Cargo Cultist!
Further confirming that conclusion are the two objects that rest inside my pocket, two halves of a single whole: the Potara Earrings.
I built them because they could be incredibly useful and were surprisingly cheap, but once I got them in my hands I realized that they were just mundane jewelry! No energy fields, no power sources, no nothing! I even asked Newt to wear one with me just to be sure but nothing happened! The only thing I got out of that experience was a moment of embarrassment when she misunderstood what I meant by 'becoming one'.
I'd feel cheated if they weren't at least fashionable. Not something I care about but it's better than nothing.
And yet, I feel that there's something there. Like a faint whisper. Like the quickly fading memory of a dream after I woke up from a long nap. A spark inside the gems that I could free if I knew how to crack them open.
If only I had another week to further investigate this I'm sure I could get something. Anything.
But my time's up, and I have a very annoying bug eating away my time.
"Are you done yet?" Lisa asks, looking over my shoulder at the circuit board I'm assembling.
I swear I'm about to go full Dr. Gero on her ass.
"I already told you, it will be ready when--" A bell rings and a light on the board turns from red to green. "Now it's ready!"
The board fits into the main console of the machine that dominates most of the room. A room that we dug out with the express purpose of fitting this machine in.
Besides the main console, this behemoth -my largest project to date if I don't count the totality of the hive- consists of a central platform big enough to accommodate a truck alongside its trailer, surrounded by four pillars. Each pillar has an emitter at the top, aimed at the center of the platform.
"Let's test it out!" Lisa cheers before dashing away.
At least she took the decency of not questioning if it was going to work. Of course it will! I built it!
In just a moment she returns behind the wheel of a pickup truck. Danny's to be specific.
That's another thing that we added to this room. A platform that allows us to drive vehicles in and out. It leads to one of the warehouses that the Dockworkers Union owns, where we can keep it private.
"You do realize that I didn't ask for Danny's permission, do you?" Lisa asks with a cheeky smile as she drives onto the platform.
"Of course I do. What kind of teenager asks for their father's authorization before taking his car for a spin?" Now and again my inner spiteful self pops out allowing me to snap properly at someone.
"What are you-- Danny isn't my-- I mean, he hasn't said anything, has he? What am I saying, I'd be the first to know! You know what? Shut the fuck up and let's just do our job." As she climbs down she smashes the door so hard that I fear she's about to make it revolving.
In any case, we've wasted more than enough time. Let's see what this baby can do!
Step one: raise the energy shield, isolating the platform from the rest of the world. That will stop anyone or anything from getting inside during the process.
Step two: a full biological scan. We don't want anything alive in there.
And with that done, comes step three. Let's get weird!
At my command, energy gets diverted to the top of the four pillars that surround the platform. They are built on top of moving arms which allow them to rotate around the target. Now they just need to heat up-- just a moment-- a longer moment--
There we go!
There's a bright flash and the truck disappears.
In reality, it hasn't gone far at all. A chime announces the successful completion of the process, and to the side of the control panel, a cabinet opens revealing a single device, the size of a lipstick tube, with a button on top. A capsule. Inside it is Danny's truck, compressed in a quantum state.
"We need to be careful now. A strong disturbance may--"
Not bothering to listen to my explanation, Lisa snatches the capsule, presses the button, and hurls it away.
The moment it hits the ground there's a puff of smoke, and when it clears the truck is there looking as if nothing had ever happened to it.
So much for safety precautions.
Did she even realize what could have happened if the locks had malfunctioned? The truck could have materialized on top of her! Or, even worse,
inside her. And I'm not in the mood to clean this place up!
And to make it even worse, she didn't even let me explain how this all works!
Does she even know how much gyroscopic magic I had to do to ensure the objects inside the capsules keep their orientation no matter how you hurl them?
Apparently not considering the way that she starts laughing as if she didn't have a care in the world.
"Yes, yes! It works!" Why are you stealing my line? "This beauty will be our bargaining chip!" She gives the machine one last appreciative glance before spinning on her heels and marching away. "Now, if you excuse me, I'm taking a break." From doing what? "I'm also taking your bondage hood with me."
"I-- what? Do you mean the nullification hood? Why?" I hate that name.
"Because that beauty puts a gag in my power's mouth, allowing me to enjoy some quality time between me and myself."
"You do realize that -by your admission- you're using bondage gear to relax, right?"
"And I'm thankful that you're so hard to read as a robot because I don't want to know what sick fantasies are going through your head right now!"
Ha! Goes to show how much she knows! She's most definitely not part of my sick fantasies!
Even if I did enjoy that one fic where she--
Oh, God, I am thankful that she can't look into my head right now!
I'll just purge all those thoughts away from my mind and--
She left me with Danny's truck down here! What the heck am I supposed to do with it? I'm not driving that thing!
"I heard Lisa laughing like a supervillain. Is everything alright?" Taylor distracts me from that predicament as she enters the room and glances at my newest creation. "Is that the new thing you've been working on?"
Finally someone I can properly talk -and gloat- to!
"Yes. The main disadvantage of our portals is that they are only human-size, so we can't transport heavy machinery or vehicles through them. This will make it all easier."
I did suggest just dismantling the pieces and sending them through our portals in parts, but that's not as easy as it sounds. In some cases that would mean bringing specialized machinery to the receiving side to assemble the parts and training people on how to use them. But there are many reasons why big companies wouldn't want to do that, protecting their trademark secrets being the first of them.
This should also facilitate delivering products to people's doorsteps instead of having them go to a distribution center.
"Where is Lisa, by the way?" She asks.
"Can't you tell? You should be able to find her through your bugs."
Taylor purses her lips as if rolling the words inside her mouth before replying. "I've been trying to cut back on that. At least when it comes to you, guys. I don't want to be constantly invading your privacy 24/7."
Taylor Hebert, rekindling her trust in other human beings? We've come a long way.
"She told me she needed to de-stress so she went to get bondage gear."
"W-wha?" Taylor's eyes widen as her cheeks turn the shade of a tomato. "No, she did not! She's at your workshop getting the power hood!"
Pity. She found out right away! At least it was fun for a brief couple of seconds.
"Didn't you just say that you didn't want to invade our privacy?" I tell her, cracking the side of my mouth into a grin. "Unless you wanted to see her--"
"Shut up! You're not finishing that sentence!" Uh, so her face can turn even redder.
I must say, it's nice being able to joke around with a friend without thinking about our incoming doom.
"So, any plans for tonight? It's Saturday and I've been told that teenagers like to hang out with their peers during their weekends."
Taylor rolls her eyes. "You know that my way of 'hanging out' is to grab a bunch of bugs and go patrol the city. But I guess that Lisa and I could go for a drink after she's done with her 'thing'." I can almost taste the embarrassment in her words as she says that. "What about you?"
For the first time in far too long, years, I have plans for a Saturday night. And it involves other human beings!
"DnD," I reply, getting a chuckle out of Taylor.
"Well, don't let me--" she suddenly straightens up, a scowl marrying her face. "A moment. I got a call." With a flicker of her hand, she summons her mask, the helmet locking around her head. "What do you want?" She snaps after accepting the call.
Who is she talking to? I could just hack the signal and listen in, but I think I'll let this one play out. No reason to get annoyed earlier than needed.
"I don't see how that-- I see-- I see-- I see--"
I hate when people say that when they are on the phone! It can only spell disaster.
"We'll get there as soon as possible." Taylor ends the call and pulls back her helmet. Whatever emotions are rolling inside her head is a complete mystery because her face is devoid of any. "That was Max Anders."
I open my mouth but before I can push any words out of it she continues.
"It seems that Purity has been kidnapped."
…
