16.3 Interlude 16: Emily
'Never attack a Tinker in their lab', I silently repeated to myself as I climbed up the stairs from Recluse's lab. The woman was damn infuriating, and possibly sociopathic, or whatever was the correct medical term, based on how little emotion she had when she stopped trying to fake it.
Despite being surrounded by writhing cthulhutech, I had still been incredibly tempted to sock her. The thought of knocking her head off having the possible consolation prize of getting to babysit Bonesaw 2: Spider Freak Boogaloo had been the only thing really holding me back.
Finishing the stairwell of death, I opened up into a sprint.
And jerked to stop almost immediately as I nearly plow into Thrawn as he steps around the corner, holding his hands up to stop me while he speaks. "The jeep is ordered to wait for you!"
"What then? I'm busy."
"Are you going to use this chance to try and betray us? Locating Recluse's lair or otherwise?"
That he expected to get a useful answer, and was supposedly a Thinker gave me pause in consideration about his power.
"Look in the camera when you answer." he gestured up to one in the intersection. Right, either Xanatos or Thrawn had either a power based lie detector that worked at range or a tinkertech one. I stare up at the camera to get this over with.
Thrawn speaks up again from beside me. "Are you planning to attempt to figure out anything about this location using this opportunity? Do you expect to betray the trust that I and Recluse have extended to you."
We're wasting time. I face up at the camera. "I'm not intending to use this chance to work out geographic information, and have no plans at present to report any such information I learn to anyone else."
Thrawn steps out of the way after a moment's pause. "Head to the jeep. I'll clear them to depart."
He tries to swagger his fat body off to his office, and I dash to the motor pool, yanking the black bag out of somebody's hand.
God, it feels good to move again. I should see if some of these mercs are up for a spar. The fun kind of CQC would be crossing a line though.
I grab the front passenger seat, so I can see what's going on when we get there and I can pull off the bag. I don't want to be out of the loop, especially if Hess has gone full psycho idiot. A part of me hopes that this is some kind of misdirection or fakery.
Speaking of communication, I turn to my driver, hold out a hand, and set my expression to 'intimidate'. "Radio."
He waffles, but complies, pulling an extra one from the center console.
Fuckers, this is a PRT radio. Even while putting the ear and mic on, I raise an eyebrow in interrogation.
The goon shrugs, trying for nonchalant. "Coil acquired them through the PRT for us. They get good range, good battery." He's got the minerals, I'll grant him that. It's obvious in retrospect that Coil would have used Calvert to steal my people's gear.
Whatever. I hook the headset's cable into the connection socket, and turn it on. "This is Piggot." Then pull the bag over my head, so we can get the show on the road.
"Thrawn here. I'm doing command and control, I've got override on the radios. Captain Shan is local command, with Piggot advising. Shan, if she betrays us, just abandon her. I want to try and keep this subtle."
My own unprofessionalism is disappointing, but thankfully nobody saw me roll my eyes at Thrawn's hysterics.
I finish buckling in as I feel a few things tossed into the back of the jeep, followed by a couple of guys boarding. "Which one of you is Shan?"
From behind me and to my left, a voice spoke up. "I am. Drive out. First goal is evidence of targets at the location, audiovisual preferred. Second is the preservation of the Hebert house."
As the jeep lurches forward, Shan kept talking. "Targets are believed to be Emma Barnes and Sophia Hess. Both are high school juniors. Sophia Hess implicated herself as possessing a parahuman power she referred to as 'shadow walk'. Presume both are hostile. In the unlikely event they remain nearby, use tasers for immobilization. Maintaining secrecy supersedes that in the case of observers being present."
Thrawn's voice came over the radio, "Shan, do you want me to try and get Sandra or Bitch as backup? Sandra would easily be thirty plus minutes out, while Bitch would be twenty plus."
"No. Do you have information on the Heberts?"
I note a very slight delay before Thrawn replies. "Confirmation on the owners. I've gotten eyes onto both Daniel Hebert and his daughter at the dockworkers camp. The house won't have victims even if it burns completely."
That's mostly it for conversation. A few noises about equipment and the occasional order is the only entertainment until Shan informs me I can pull the bag off.
Not that there's much to be seen, the jeep has all the lights off. The driver is using night vision goggles. The shape looks like PRT issue, but I can't see well enough in the dark of the still mostly powerless city to confirm.
The house is obvious as we approach, orange flames flickering in some of the windows on the first floor. Twenty minutes is plenty long enough that the house fire with accelerant should have destroyed it.
I radio Thrawn. "Thrawn, why hasn't the Hebert house been destroyed by fire yet?"
"Recluse provided unspecified protections for Taylor at Panacea's request. I expected the house to be partially collapsed."
Shan carries out his leadership duties. "Morales, drop us off, then go for a drive, see if the vehicle cameras can catch any useful evidence. If you're chased regarding curfew, escape or get caught, but do not return to base. In the worst case, our lawyer will contact you by Monday morning. Thrawn, any information on the girls?"
"Recluse says they left in a direction that could be towards the Barnes' house. I'll have Comma provide further instructions to Morales separately, after your group splits."
As the jeep pulls to a stop, the three of us passengers get out and I find myself helping pull an actual damn fire hose of the back and a duffel bag of extinguishers.
Shan demonstrates some intelligence, ordering the third guy, Xavier, to set up the hose, and to not try anything only a firefighter would know how to do safely. I tally a critique when Shan then takes an extinguisher up to the house and uses it to bash open the door, possibly attempting to earn his Darwin award by means of a backdraft.
Once he doesn't die, I follow, dragging the hose while it's still being attached to the hydrant by Xavier.
Thankfully there's still pressure in the pipes, so I hose down the entryway. There's less open flame than I expected, mostly some wood furniture. The walls have fallen apart, but the insulation between the gaps in the studs must be non-flammable, despite how old the house looks. Lucky break for us or an unsettling amount of effort on the part of Recluse.
Shan hits the kitchen, and I take the living room. The kerosene meant the fire spread quickly, but thankfully everything nowadays is at least fire resistant. I run the spray of water over the curtains, some more wooden chairs, and something that might have been a side table, along with the door to the upstairs. Once the open flames are out, I shut the nozzle valve. The water pressure has been dropping steadily, and it's best to keep what I can in reserve.
I call to the kitchen, "Shan, the living room is under control, though everything in it is a wreck. If the fire has spread upstairs, I think the house is a loss."
Xavier walks in with another extinguisher, and Shan joins him, stating the kitchen isn't bad, the insulation in the intervening wall preventing a burn through.
Thankfully Xavier either knows what he's doing or is full enough of himself to volunteer, and check the door leading upstairs.
It's fine, the fire didn't get through. Scorch marks, but nothing fully caught.
The second floor is ok, though it looks like there might be some heat damage to the floor.
I'd like an update, and ask for news. "Morales, got anything on the arsonists?"
Thrawn responds instead. "I took him off your channel. He says he has a few seconds of video of them crossing the street but that's it and nothing conclusive."
I keep my mouth shut and my irritation off my face. Hell, Thrawn, communicate about channel changes and separation. What if we had needed him back? I can't believe I'm forced to admit this, but even the Wards are better at doing console than this.
Thrawn orders his goons to collect any evidence, and lacking anything productive to do, I help out.
The kerosene tank and handmade stove are trash and useless. This could still be manipulation on the part of Thrawn or Recluse, but I honestly doubt it. Faking things like this in an attempt to further recruit me is just not worth it. Thrawn would be willing to do it, but it wouldn't be reasonable or sane.
Recluse… she doesn't want me involved, and I can't see her doing anything other than refusing such an inane plan. Thrawn would be doing it on his own, if he had set this up.
I help Shan pack out, while Xavier tries for fingerprints without success. We do get pictures of the drag marks through the overgrown lawn in the back, and the of the garbage in the living room.
We just leave the Hebert's door hanging when Morales gets back. It's sickly fitting to watch as we drive off.
I need to talk to Renick. If Shadow Stalker did this, she deserves the book being thrown at her hard enough to put her in traction, before charges are filed.
========
"Good morning, Charles."
"Ma'am?" His surprised voice comes over the phone.
Well, at least he's respectful. I take a sip of coffee, watching the morning sun continue to rise over the city. "I'm retired, you can certainly call me Emily at this point."
"I'll take that under advisement. How's the morning treating you?"
I keep my tone light. "Good, good, I was just enjoying some coffee, and figured you might be able to share a lunch today. My generator works fine, and I insist you come by at some point to try some cooking and catch up." Ideally Renick both remembers and has been smart enough to never share the story from a decade back about me trying to cook some rations over an open fire. Heat resistant is not the same as fire resistant.
"I see. Emily." Yes, that was almost natural sounding Renick. Subtlety has always been a bit difficult with him.
His tone gets gets lighter, and he continues with a more taunting tone. "I've heard good things happen if you get the chance to cook. I think I could free up a couple hours this afternoon for a late lunch."
"Good, see you this afternoon."
I hang up and continue watching the morning.
========
Seeing Renick's minivan come up the drive, which his wife made him buy a few years back to replace his hideous station wagon, is my cue to pull the toast from the oven and the jam from the fridge. Might as well fulfill the promise of food.
Greeting him at the door, I am proud to provide no evidence at my surprise at seeing that Armsmaster and Miss Militia's civilian identities of Colin and Hannah have come with him. They need to hear this too, but that may not have been a smart choice. Hopefully they'll be smart enough to not discuss their own identities, on the chance that my house is bugged by Recluse.
Polite handshakes all around, we skip the tour because only Miss Militia would possibly care to see my house, and I bring them out to the windowed breakfast room overlooking the city.
I should've remembered to clean up my morning coffee cup. Whatever.
Serious faces meet mine as we sit, ignoring the toast and jam.
I start things off, my tone light despite my expression. "Let's keep the conversation between just us friends, so that we can catch up informally. Colin, would you clear out any unnecessary electronics in the area. Just drop our phones in my living room, to keep work out of our catching up."
Armsmaster blinks in surprise, then collects a phone from Miss- Hannah and Renick. He pecks at his phone, a much more complex device even from only a cursory examination as he heads back into my house. Once he's back from dropping them off in my living room, he gives me a confirmatory nod that we're in the clear.
Once a week, my house gets sweep for electronics, tinkertech included, and anything odd biologically. That means nothing if the PRT itself decides to remotely turn on my PRT phone, and I'm not interested in sitting in M/S screening or getting yelled at for not reporting the fairly useless information I know about Recluse and Thrawn beyond what the PRT already knew when I left.
My voice changes to match the displeasure on my face. "Last night, I was taking a walk and came across two people, that I think could possibly have been Sophia Hess and Emma Barnes, after they apparently set fire to the Hebert's home."
The unspoken question of 'What the hell have you people been doing since I've been gone?' is delivered just fine.
Armsm- Colin barely lags, "On this walk of yours, can anybody corroborate what you described?"
Hannah's interruption of, "Are the Hebert's alright?" sidetracks us as I explain they're fine and I think they were at Daniel Hebert's camp.
They have no answers but promise to look into things.
Renick is the first to advance the conversation. "Speaking of walks, where do your retirement hobbies leave us for meeting up in the future? Some people can, uh, get caught up in new things, and it's not like, we, your old friends can, uh, check your mastery of new and strange things?"
I honestly didn't believe the man had such intrigue in him. I actually smile in approval. To answer his question though. "Here's how things stand. I'm not your boss anymore, and if you trust me as if I was, it might get us burned. I've kept from boredom remarkably well by meeting new people. Actually, they sought me out, they liked my winning attitude."
Hannah snorts in amusement.
I make a mental note to be sure to invite her over for dinner if I ever bother trying to cook something new. "Still, you might find us drifting apart. One of the two is balding and an ass, but he introduced me to a friend of his. To my surprise, I found that her paranoia has been overshadowing some other hobbies. She's into volunteering at shelters. I've been surprised as the number of rescues she informally supports. There's a lot of strays with special needs that she provides homes for. I'm not convinced that she doesn't bury any of the ones that give her trouble, but even the ones with baldy entices into some part time work are the ones that actually want to do it and she provides room and board for any that just want to sit and do nothing.
"She was the one who notified me last night that I might need some exercise. So, I've given it some thought, and would like to ask you the same question. How do things stand? Especially given that I might have to thank such irritating new friends for recent understandings."
The three of them follow the implications of things well I think. Except for perhaps Arms- Colin, as he is pretty mentally inflexible, despite having more creativity than Charles.
Hannah responds slowly, "Well, protecting people has gotten both easier and harder. The two Merchant camps are the worst, only full patrols in armored vehicles have no issues. Medical outreach there has almost shut down due to theft and harassment at every point, while supply trucks usually inflame things into nearly riots. The Empire camps are safe for the people who meet their standards, but the gang is getting stronger for it. Conversely, the Protectorate has picked up four new capes, but three of them will be transferring out with their families. One is still rebranding and training. We think another three were killed shortly after triggering. Two of them killed off the leaders of the remaining asian factions that were trying to hold out against the Merchants. There was some recent upheaval in their territory, and we think it might mean Skidmark, Squealer, and Mush may choose to leave town."
I can't help a derisive huff, at which Hannah pauses, looking at me curiously. I get myself under control. "Did you not interrogate the criminals left behind at the wreckage of Squealer's latest autobominamobile? Recluse has Skidmark and Squealer now."
As all three of my peers stare at me, and then I realize my mistake even as Renick snickers. Hannah smiles gleefully enough that her cheeks lift up so far as to form small wrinkles around her eyes. Colin doesn't care, thankfully.
Regent had made the word 'autobominamobile' catchy enough while mocking Squealer that it had somehow contaminated my brain.
I exercise complete control over my facial expressions, refusing to blush. After a quiet breath, I'm ready to continue. "I expect all of you to be discreet regarding that faux pas."
I focus on Colin's stoicism as Hannah fails to control herself and starts giggling like an idiot and even Renick smirks. Clearly Tagg has been letting a culture of quality slide a bit.
Once she and Charles are able to be mostly professional again, I continued. "According to a rumor I heard from my bald friend, Recluse has been quietly hunting for Squealer's lab for some time. Once she found it, she arranged with Thrawn to capture Skidmark and Squealer so that she could harvest her lab for materials and tinkertech."
Armsmaster nods solemnly. "Understood. What are Recluse's intentions for them?"
I gave him a look of disappointment. This first conversation needed to be practicing the informal and loose cryptic references that we can use if we ever have to communicate in public. "How should I know, this is just what I've heard as a civilian. However, I would guess that she doesn't really care about the capes, and that she wanted Squealer's lab. I hypothesize that she will drop them off at the PRT. Thrawn will likely ensure that it's outside PRT facilities in Toronto, Montreal, or Boston, because he doesn't like Tagg. If the Protectorate gets notified about Squealer's lab, it'll be after Recluse has picked through it."
My attention turned left as Renick speaks, "Good, good to hear. However, that is unlikely to change the PRT response to her. She's considered a villain in private, and Tagg has been pushing us hard. Of the nine strike teams, a third of them no longer bring containment foam at all, and have doubled up on bullets, including AP and incendiary." He stalls for a long second.
Hannah took over speaking at that pause, "Actually, I think it might be better for her to live up to her name. Hookwolf hit a team last week, resulting in eight casualties. That's after Recluse let the Empire close her camp and then her xenomorphs and Hookwolf got into a fight that got four other troopers killed. If she creates targets and can't defend them, that gets other people hurt. My friends and I are struggling with Tagg's priorities. The public position is vastly more optimistic than the attitude behind closed doors. The P- -RT strike teams aren't being used to engage the E88, and we're basically leaving the Protectorate unsupported when they get into cape fights. The PRT is heavily focused on Thrawn and Recluse. Scuttlebutt blames Tagg's experiences at Lausanne, the Simurgh's first appearance, and Thrawn's incessant security breaches into PRT phone lines. Even though that's recently stopped, Tagg was already convinced that taking Thrawn and Recluse down matters more than whatever the E88 does."
I can't help a sigh at that. It's stupid, but not entirely unreasonable. Well, if Recluse would stop being a creepy shut in and Thrawn stopped challenging everyone he met to a dick measuring contest, then this could be worked out, but I had no hope of either of those outcomes. "Fine, that's a thought I can share around with my new friends and see what they think, but don't expect much. They simply don't consider him a meaningful threat, and I haven't seen anything that could actually be called evidence for them being more scary than a good haunted house. At this point, I honestly wouldn't bet our good reputation that we'd get a clean PR win out of running them down. Last topic. Baldy, he talks like a used car salesman. He likes to run his mouth, and mentioned that he expects Recluse to have another runaway to pick up soon, a young one with a broad perspective that works with you lot."
"Can you elaborate on that?" Miss Militia asked in shock.
"Renick, without telling me anything anything I shouldn't know, has the investigation into Mrs Michaels or Principal Blackwell revealed anything?"
"I can't comment on former investigations," he responds apologetically.
The word 'former' tells me enough. "Well, in that case, all I want to add is that Panacea is either spiteful or thoughtful enough to spread the word to even the youngest that if somebody needs support then Recluse has no strings attached to her help. Because this is important enough to be clear: rumor has it that Vista is burning out on the Wards."
Grimacing, Renick considers that, "I've been handling the majority of the work managing the Wards, and all of their support infrastructure. Most of them have been relegated to patrolling around the PRT building, boardwalk, and the two safest camps. I'll look into it, but unless Vista talks about any unknown problems, there's no loose ends for me to follow up on. Despite the state of the city, she's literally the safest now that she's been in years. The Wards only do the morning and afternoon shifts. They see almost no combat aside from the occasional desperate and stupid person as a one off. Most of their training and equipment budgets have been shifted to support them in non-combat ways. The Protectorate can only do meaningful patrols where they expect to find villain capes without lopsided engagements, and they can't bring the Wards along while patrolling without adequate support to assuredly get them out if there's serious trouble. The PRT strike teams are fully occupied following up any random leads for safe houses and similar, but there's been a long train of useless tips on the supposed bases of Recluse or Thrawn. I have personally felt that the predominantly non-white areas for these tips is telling, but it does match the predictions for where unauthorized construction could occur and they are finding criminal activity. Get, uh, Baldy, to give you more information, if you can, so I make as few waves as possible checking in on the tip about shorty. The less I have to blame on a hunch, for trying to talk to her or to just tell her therapist, of which they have several now, the better."
The order in there, even moderated, is surprisingly grating for me, but I move past it. "You understand that Baldy isn't likely to say anything actually helpful while he can't make a deal to the biggest company in town, right? As for Ms Paranoia, near as I can tell, she has a single soft spot. Namely, helping out downtrodden individuals. I doubt she'll tell me anything. She seems utterly indifferent to the PRT on a daily basis, and expects to be attacked by them if they ever learn anything actionable. She believes I'll betray anything she trusts me with, and at my last meeting with her, I found out that the only reason that she's been willing to talk to me at all is because she owed favors to Baldy's boss, and the man himself was spending them on getting her to come out of her shell.
"All that to say, Baldy was bragging, not helping. If I can learn more, I'll tell you, but he's been a petulant child about those failed negotiations. I don't think he'd share anything that would jeopardize making the person who snubbed him look bad. He wants to deliver a humiliation. I cornered Panacea, and do have a specific detail that might help. Vista may be intentionally collecting scars. That's not healthy in an adult soldier, and absolutely not for a kid."
There's not much else to add. We sit for a few minutes. Colin eats a piece of bone dry and burnt toast in an impressively awkward attempt to be polite, and the lack of conversation lingers.
We silently agree to go pick up our stuff. Mostly silently.
"It's nice to have a chance to see you making friends and having fun outside of work, in an informal situation." Hannah settles herself into a cozy spot on my list of problem people as I ignore the question. She's chosen her spot well, not high up enough that I can justify devoting effort to the problem.
As the lot of us return to the kitchen, a thought occurs to me. I mentally berate myself for missing it as I quietly stop Renick from grabbing their phones.
After some verbal garbage about showing them my garden to get them outside of the main part of my house, we're all soon standing at distant edge of my generally ignored backyard. A small patio surrounded by grass gone native. I might have lost a lawn chair somewhere out here.
I lead them out a ways to and quietly begin, putting as much command into my voice as I can. "There's one more thing I should mention, and you all are to keep absolutely silent on this aspect."
The three of them are thankfully completely serious in their attention now.
"Recluse seems to be willing to provide room and boarding for parahumans in bad situations, while only requiring that they not endanger her and don't engage in behavior that she considers unethical. Between her humanitarian efforts and Thrawn, that's what happened to the Undersiders, Purity, and Canary. However, that brings us to Arania as a current problem. Have any of you heard about her?"
The trio only have some rumors from the E88, about a cannibalistic spider-shaped case 53 that Recluse has been using as a guard dog.
Thankfully then the worst part remains under wraps. "Arania is a Tinker. Recluse is monitoring her, protecting her, and supposedly teaching her some responsibility. I've seen zero implication of anything resembling cannibalism. If Recluse gets taken out, I've been told that Arania has been instructed to flee to the PRT. The problem is that Arania's Tinker speciality is biological self-modification, and I'm not convinced the 'self' part is a strong restriction. Recluse sees no issue with encouraging Arania to develop her capability."
I continue talking over Hannah's and Renick's concern. "Arania's current project is giving herself a more humanoid form. Hopefully, that will take her a long time. She doesn't seem very directed at things yet. As far as I know, she hasn't experimented on others. However, given the rapid changes I've observed in the short time I've been aware of her, I expect that she could be the next Crawler, Mannequin, or Bonesaw, depending on the exact nature of her ability to modify herself with new tools or abilities. If she is readily compared to three of the Slaughterhouse 9 members, that means she is likely to be considered a prime target by them for recruitment, forced or otherwise. Still, that's only if her abilities are publicised. Like what got that one Tinker killed, Fossil, the one down in Texas I think. Just to be clear, if things got to shit, ensure that Arania is not paraded about. The last thing we need is a visit from an S Class threat. In the best of the worst outcomes, Arania will show up at the PRT and demand to speak to me without revealing anything else. However, I decided that it was best to inform a few other trusted people. I repeat, do not spread this information further. We want youth biotinker trying to run to the PRT in the case of trouble, not trying to hide from us and protect herself in a panic."
Nods and an "Understood." from Armsmaster conclude things.
