Lycanthromancer
The Arcane Fuzz
- Location
- USA
...Or are you?
Scientia Weaponizes The Future
- Thread starter TaliesinSkye
- Start date
- Sci-Fi Superhero
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- worm science fiction oc insert hfy
RazorSmile
ROB Used To Be A Knife Missile
So, wait.
That means the confession happened in a timeline that was ended by Promethean nuclear fire? Therefore, Coil told them nothing and chose the silence of the Birdcage instead? Yikes.
I actually feel sorry for him now. Like, unironically.
That means the confession happened in a timeline that was ended by Promethean nuclear fire? Therefore, Coil told them nothing and chose the silence of the Birdcage instead? Yikes.
I actually feel sorry for him now. Like, unironically.
Lycanthromancer
The Arcane Fuzz
- Location
- USA
Given that he would've been perfectly happy after having kidnapped, tortured, and murdered both Danny and Taylor, along with Dinah (and, in fact, gets off on it), I don't feel the slightest bit of sympathy for the creepy psychopath.
TaliesinSkye
Occasional Editor
- Location
- Northeast Ohio, United States
Part of me kind of felt bad for him while I was writing that chapter, which is weird, considering that @Lycanthromancer is absolutely right. I guess on some level we empathize with anyone being beaten on for long enough, even if it's self inflicted.
It's been pointed out in other media that true immortality would come with the potential downside of enabling terrible suffering. I'm not sure if anyone else has explored the idea that Coil's power has the same potential before. I'd be surprised if they hadn't, because this is Wormfic and seemingly everything's been done, but I can't think of an example off the top of my head.
On the plus side, used properly Coil is the perfect remedy to every time an audience bemoaned the fact that a deserving villain could only be laid low once.
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Yes, they are astonishingly vulnerable. At about the minimum fathomable scaling, Eden still must have been at least city-sized, so that knife was probably something in the region of pretty much instantly halting all consciousness brain-function by poking a small hole in a single mitochondria. Like, maybe stabbing the D.N.A. just right could cause brain-cancer, but that shouldn't be instant. Killing a multiple-planet being that has survived countless millennia of radiation baths, planetary impacts, hostile wildlife, its peers... by stabbing it in the neck of one of the many dolls it was playing with at the time? About the most dubious thing in the whole story. I can only assume that redundancy was evolutionarily discouraged because it required more violence to disable a being that lacked a nice central vulnerability to destroy, so the ludicrously vulnerable worms were more likely to pass their traits on to their devourers than anything with the slightest hint of innate resilience. This, of course, would have doomed the species, so lolno, but it is at least an explanation.
The point being: To "kill" one, you just need to hit one specific microscopic location. This is completely arbitrary and has no bearing upon their capabilities other than how absurdly easy they are to "kill" once you get access to one. It wasn't the giant beam that killed Scion, it was the one tiny speck of that beam that hit that one specific weak point for scientific-notation-fail damage. They could have fired that thing all day and if it just sat their coring out his glutes then there is no reason to believe that it would have mattered at all.
When judging Scion's power and scale. It is important to note that he never actually fought, at all. He was playing a game the whole time. In fact, not playing a game, just mucking around with the pieces in an effort to figure out what "game" even means. Scion didn't shoot a beam that failed to punch straight through the planet, it was a beam that destroyed what it was meant to destroy. The clearest evidence of this is that Scion could talk. Scion had a "host species emulation" shard, and likely a lot more than one/a really really big one. Given what we see of powers, how basically none of them are direct shard intervention? It seems completely implausible that Scion was limited to line-of-sight. Maybe the golden beams had some sort of obscure requirement that needed the Scion body to warp things just right to propagate them, but in general, if Scion had just wanted to win, absolutely anyone at all, with the possible exception of Mantellum and those literally hugging hugging the cape, would have been instantly Heartbreakered at a minimum, because that is the sort of thing that a host species emulation shard could do as an unleashed power. The idea that Scion was without means to nuke a cape just by thinking about them is completely incompatible with basically anything at all known about how powers work.
There really isn't much observed that even hints at their capabilities because they never actually tested themselves or encountered strain... other than the likes of Doormaker who's shard was broken and the exhaustion was a result of unknowable processes. Like, sure, we can make guesses about crossing from one Earth to another, or moving from one location to another instantly, but we don't actually know how Doormaker was doing it, and any observations are the product of completely arbitrary and alien aesthetic choices, so we can't match theories to specifics.
Between Contessa, Grey Boy, The Siberian, Vista... we know that they were throwing around some truly absurd effects extremely casually, we know that their uppoer limits are ludicrously absurd, but we can't get a good read on the precise extent of that absurdity without just blindly accepting the preposterous numbers the author hands out.
Yeah, thinking about this some more, I may have underestimated the importance of this a bit. I'm still not totally sold on the scenario, though.
True, the difference in consequences isn't significant, any nuking is Bad for keeping a low profile. I was thinking it was juuuuuust slightly more likely that Coil would fail to split the timeline once "safely" in PRT custody as to make nuking the rig more risky than nuking Coil otherwise.
There's also the fact that, prior to this, Prometheus responded with nukes, AFAICT, exclusively to Taylor's actual death. Other transgressions on Coil's part were met with lethal force by Taylor, but in a way that would not draw the attention of goddamn everyone to nearly the same degree. A "failure" in that scenario—Coil keeping the bad timeline—wouldn't be nearly as catastrophic as a rig-nuke. Obviously in the cases where Taylor is dead, everything has already gone to shit and the only thing that matters is maximum lethality in minimum time, so in those cases the nuke is 100% the right call.
All that said, yeah, I think I didn't really emotionally grasp how Coil must have been feeling at that point, and (given that Taylor undoubtedly spent a lot more time thinking it through than I did) I can see how Taylor could be legitimately 99.9% confident Coil would split the timeline and drop if nuked. I'm just not sure a 1 in 1000 chance of utter disaster is an acceptable risk at that point, compared to a larger risk of much lesser scrutiny in the fake-suicide or just-fucking-kill-him-ahead-of-time scenarios I suggested. *shrug* what's done is done at this point.
Yeah, dropped timelines are obnoxious to talk about. I certainly didn't intend to imply this—my list is "what would happen in what should be a dropped timeline, but if for some reason it weren't here's why that would suck".
TaliesinSkye
Occasional Editor
- Location
- Northeast Ohio, United States
I'm glad if you'll be sticking around.
For the record, I don't completely disagree with your analysis. I went the way I did anyway because I thought the positives (it made for a powerfully dramatic scene) made up for the logic not being as perfectly grounded as I would prefer. Not outright bad, of course. I wouldn't have done it if it was, and there are ways to justify the decision for Prometheus/Scientia to react the way they did in the final aborted timeline, but it's not the 'obviously they did that because it's the only decision that makes sense' perfection that is to be striven for.
I've said this before, but while I'm a pretty good writer technically (by which I mean reasonably comprehensive knowledge of grammar, sentence construction theory, etc) thanks to professional training, I still consider myself an amateur when it comes to the larger business of weaving yarns. This is by far my longest work. My previous record was 30k or so, and never saw the light of day because it was frankly poorly planned and I learned a lot of lessons in what not to do from it.
I fully accept that in weighing the many considerations involved with story decisions - developing character arcs, verisimilitude, rationalism, drama, coolness factor, and many others - I'll make missteps occasionally. This is fundamentally a learning experience for me, and I'm deeply shocked, humbled, and grateful for the reception and fans the story has received despite its imperfections.
I, uh, you said it first? So I hope it's okay for me to say: That makes a lot of sense—both parts. Your writing is absolutely solid, not just the basic mechanics but things like fight scenes and dialogue. (The banter with Lisa way back when was great, I don't think I had started reading at that point so I didn't comment on it.) I'd have some other highlights to point out, but uh, it's super late at night and I'm tired.
But then yeah, there have been several of these moments where I'm reading along and it's cool in isolation but just kinda jarring, in a broader-structure, suspension-of-disbelief sense. So far nothing that, like, totally undermines the story? Like I can basically pretend that Taylor did something else here and it doesn't really change anything in the broader picture.
I should add, there's some larger-structure stuff that's really great, too—I'm liking the origin-story of Taylor's "powers", for instance, and the remaining mystery about how things went down at the end in the future-timeline her tech is from.
Anyway. I think it's really great that you're openly treating this as a learning experience—I'm more than happy to take the good parts and leave the...not even bad, God knows I've seen much worse, but less-polished anyway.
Lycanthromancer
The Arcane Fuzz
- Location
- USA
Maybe if Calvert was caught and he couldn't give the code to his men to abort the murder mission and Taylor was killed as a result while he's in the Rig holding cells, it could've ended that timeline as it did, that would've made more logical sense than what we got.
I think it would've been fun if, instead of getting nuked from afar as the last bit, Halbeard's armor servos suddenly took control and stabbed Calvert in the heart with the halberd in the snitch timeline, showing him that Scientia has literally infiltrated the PRoT at every conceivable level.
I think it would've been fun if, instead of getting nuked from afar as the last bit, Halbeard's armor servos suddenly took control and stabbed Calvert in the heart with the halberd in the snitch timeline, showing him that Scientia has literally infiltrated the PRoT at every conceivable level.
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TaliesinSkye
Occasional Editor
- Location
- Northeast Ohio, United States
That would have worked. I'd have had to give up on some of the scene, hard to say if it would have been stronger or weaker as a story overall.
If this was a comedy piece, it would have been funny to have the first scene not be the protagonist in stolen Armsmaster armor, but a remote controlled Armsmaster being puppeted by his suit.
Lycanthromancer
The Arcane Fuzz
- Location
- USA
Well, the main part would be mostly unchanged, except for the fact that Calvert had ordered the kill on a timer unless they're told otherwise, then got caught for his actions in that timeline (while he's "safe" in M/S protocols?), then got nuked when he didn't call in to call off the hit. The parts with Armsmaster and Dragon would be the same, as would the part at the end where Armsmaster offered a "safer prison" but Calvert just said nothing. It'd take a little reworking, but not much.
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TaliesinSkye
Occasional Editor
- Location
- Northeast Ohio, United States
Oh yes, that version would be pretty much the same, I meant the Armsmaster suit variant, if that was used to kill Calvert instead of using a nuke. Although re-reading your comment, I think you were suggesting that in addition to, rather than as an alternative.
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Lycanthromancer
The Arcane Fuzz
- Location
- USA
I was, yes. The nuke first (with yet another alpha-strike on Taylor, with Calvert in the Rig, hoping he's safe this time), with the final split timeline of the chapter being death by Armsarmorhalberd strike.
- Location
- Sea of Dirac
I think the Shards could manage it, especially if they are giant quantum computers themselves and their mass is greater than several planets.
Considering that the Endbringer's core visibly warps light while not changing the Earth's orbit, they are working on multiple spatial dimensions that Earth isn't affected by.
That could mean a lot of things, but the biggest is that you can fit a lot of degenerate matter onto a shard without completely annihilating whatever planet it lands on. But if you assume that shards are just massive quantum computers with an effectively unlimited number of qubits, that would let them model Earth or Earths from the quantum level up with a fairly realistic guess.
Why do I think that shards share a lot of multi-spacial dimension abilities with the endbringers?
Definitely working on more than three spatial dimensions. Which would give shards plenty of spare room to house the mass to dedicate towards processing in their continent-sized forms.
They'd still run into issues when out-of-context information is being introduced that doesn't directly correlate to the available mass, positioning, energy levels, velocities, and trajectories, but it should get them pretty damn close. So things like Taylor's implant receiving information from an outside reality that isn't being monitored would screw with PTV any other precognitive ability.
So they could map Taylor up until she gets her next download of information. In which case everything gets screwed up.
The real question is what happens when one of those shards takes notice of Taylor and reports the out-of-context information entering the equation if it hasn't already.
Sounds like a baby entity. Or one of the smarter shards that might be more self-aware and capable of acting more independently (Leet's shard for that matter)
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Scientia Ch. 26 - Declarations of Intent
TaliesinSkye
Occasional Editor
- Location
- Northeast Ohio, United States
Acting: 1
Artificial Intelligence: 5
Biology: 3
Chemistry: 4
Computer Programming: 7
Cooking: 1
Cybernetics: 5
Electrical Engineering: 6
FTL Travel: 3 (Limit)
Guns: 4 (Limit)
History: 1
Languages: 1
Lying: 1
Manufacturing: 4
Martial Arts: 4 (Limit)
Mathematics: 2
Mechanical Engineering: 6
Medicine: 4
Nanotechnology: 5
Personal Armor: 4
Physics: 5
Psychology: 1
Security: 2
Tactics: 5
Tailoring: 1
Artificial Intelligence: 5
Biology: 3
Chemistry: 4
Computer Programming: 7
Cooking: 1
Cybernetics: 5
Electrical Engineering: 6
FTL Travel: 3 (Limit)
Guns: 4 (Limit)
History: 1
Languages: 1
Lying: 1
Manufacturing: 4
Martial Arts: 4 (Limit)
Mathematics: 2
Mechanical Engineering: 6
Medicine: 4
Nanotechnology: 5
Personal Armor: 4
Physics: 5
Psychology: 1
Security: 2
Tactics: 5
Tailoring: 1
Thursday, January 27th, 2011
Brockton Bay, New Hampshire, Earth Bet
Hebert Residence
Brockton Bay, New Hampshire, Earth Bet
Hebert Residence
Early Thursday evening went by in a haze of productivity. I tried on the new clothes (I'd missed the tailored clothing of my old life) and armor (it would do) and got the seeds for two new VIs spinning up.
When the ship I was building was finished, which wouldn't be long at all at the rate Danny and I were piecing parts together as they came out of the nanoassembler, I was going to need a specialized VI to handle its primary mission. That would be the first VI.
I cribbed heavily from work already done for Prometheus and devoted the time I had to the fundamental principles of the new VI's primary responsibility.
Mining and construction in zero gravity.
I directed the seed to use the world's patent databases and engineering journals to build itself out with. It would likely need some hand tweaking eventually, but hopefully that would get it most of the way there.
The second...well, there would come a time when I needed a VI that understood combat, personal and vehicular, and could fight. Thankfully the internet and various databases were rich with knowledge on the topic, both theoretical and practical. I loaded the seed up with texts and videos of military matters, martial arts, piloting, and the many ways to use and counter weaponry and even the various classes of parahuman powers.
The PRT had been working on the problem for many years, after all.
I set the seeds to get started learning and building themselves while Danny and I worked on assembling the last few pieces of the ship to come out of the nanoassembler.
"You haven't told me what it's going to be able to do, you know," Danny said, after carefully sliding the last white hull panel into place with a solid click as it locked itself to the frame. The first time he'd lost his grip on one it had fallen up and hit the ceiling thanks to having negative mass. I'd had to get a stepladder from the garage to help him get it down.
I chuckled, walking to the particle accelerator sitting next to the fusion reactor along one wall where the two had been happily humming along. "What do you think it'll be able to do?"
Danny visibly stood back and took in the sweeping white curves of the design that dominated the basement space. It lacked any windows. The only noticeable exterior features were panels that swung out as doors to provide access to the interior, and an obvious engine exhaust manifold on the back that could be sealed into a smooth expanse with more pivoting plates.
"Fly, but I can't imagine how you'll get it out of here. Or what else you intend to use it for. I did notice that the inside has another of those fancy 3D printers like the one we built the ship with, so you'll be doing something with that, presumably," he said, thoughtfully scratching his chin.
"Those exterior panels that fall up are the outer hull, but also part of the FTL drive," I explained, carefully pulling a heavy cylinder the size of a large thermos bottle out of the particle accelerator and walking over towards the ship.
There was no real need to be careful; the thing was armored enough that it would survive an artillery round. But it was the principle of the thing.
I walked through an open door panel into the inner cargo and construction bay that took up about two thirds of the interior space. Manipulating a handle along the back bulkhead opened the port where the magnetic bottle went, and I slid it in before closing and locking the port door behind it.
"And that was the fuel," I added, flipping the switch that enabled the auxiliary battery I'd already installed to start powering on the ship's systems. "Prometheus, fire up the onboard computers and run through the cold start checklist, please?"
"Command acknowledged, Miss," Prometheus answered, dutiful as ever. I could have sent the command through my lace, but there was no reason not to do it out loud for Danny's sake.
"What's this thing use for fuel?" he asked.
I stepped back outside the craft, towards Danny. "To make it as powerful as I need while being this small, I had to go with an antimatter catalyzed fusion engine. That bottle I just installed has about a kilogram of antimatter. Positrons, to be specific. They annihilate with regular electrons and together with whatever light elements you throw in it releases enough energy to kickstart high energy fusion in the reaction ring in there," I said, pointing towards the back third of the ship. "Positron annihilation is harder to engineer for a fusion drive but it's as energetic as you can get while still being clean, no radioactivity through photodisintegration."
I noticed Danny's look growing more confused as I wandered off into the weeds, so I toned it down. "The plasma drive is good for power and thrust. The FTL engine bends space but can't affect inertia, so traveling means making sublight burns to adjust relative velocity."
Danny looked at me. "...It's a spaceship."
I offered him a grin. "It's a goddamn spaceship."
"...Full of antimatter," he continued.
I nodded, and looked up as I did the mental math. "If it lost containment with a full tank it'd be...as much energy as a 42.5 megaton nuke? It'd be released in the form of gamma radiation, but with that much hard gamma the difference is minor. Plenty of stuff would get hot enough to fuse anyway."
"...And it's full right now?" Danny asked, slowly, giving me a look.
I nodded again.
"Taylor, I realize your old man has never sat you down for the workplace safety talk, but I would have thought I didn't need to explain that you should never make city-destroying bombs in the basement," he started.
I held up both hands. "The bottle is small, structurally solid, and exceptionally well protected. It's like an aircraft black box, it's designed to survive things that would destroy the ship. And it's got six months of onboard battery power. Plenty of time to recover it. If something does hit the ship hard enough to break containment immediately then you've probably got much bigger problems."
"Uh huh," Danny said, sounding unconvinced. "And can it be safely disarmed?"
I paused.
"...I could do it by transferring the antimatter to another decent storage device, but I don't think anyone else knows how to build one of those yet," I said slowly.
Danny's look intensified, and he crossed his arms. I thought through other options.
How do you get rid of lots of antimatter if you don't know how to contain it and you don't have a way to get it into space?
"...Drop it in deep water," I said at last. "The water will absorb the gamma burst and spread out the heat. It'll kill nearby sea life, but that's not a major concern if it comes to it."
He sighed. "Alright. So. A spaceship. What do you need a spaceship for? How are you going to get it out of here? And how are you going to keep the Simurgh from attacking it?"
I mentally checked the progress of the cold start. With all the panels in place and power, the FTL drive had what it needed. A quick self-diagnostic reported that every connection was good.
"Watch this," I said, and mentally activated the first stage of the FTL drive. The panels closed creating a sealed surface of negative mass around the ship, and the drive drew power and flexed space along the topological defect of purpose-built exotic matter. The ship warped crazily to the eye as it lensed like an image in a funhouse mirror, what would be an insane gravitational sheer confined to a layer too thin for us to even notice a disturbance, the tangent line of a graph going nearly vertical. Then the ship disappeared completely as the topology of local space became a bottle connected to the rest of the universe by an opening on the subatomic scale.
"Where did it go?" Danny asked, bewildered, leaning forward and gingerly moving his hand through where the ship used to be.
"It's still here, it just made some extra space for itself, a sort of pocket," I explained. "It's far easier to bend space around a tiny opening to move through the universe quickly than for a whole ship. It can get out of here by traveling between molecules, and it'll be far too fast in FTL for the Simurgh to do anything."
I signaled the ship to relax its hold on local space, and it lensed back into reality, pushing air and Danny's hand aside as space itself moved to make room for the ship.
"Okay, but why do you need a spaceship that can travel faster than light?"
I mentally found the image I was looking for, and waved unnecessarily at the side of the ship while I commanded it with my lace. The skin shifted from white to completely black, and then to a field of stars with a glowing red disc around a central star, like the angry vermillion eye of some impossibly large eldritch being.
"This is TW Hydrae. It's a very young star almost two hundred light years away, with a disk of hot gas still accreting around it. Eventually the hot gas will fall into the star or condense into planets, but for now it's perfect for something else," I explained.
Danny looked between me and the image. "What's that?"
I grinned. "Strip mining. If I wanted to gather resources in our solar system - which would be a bad idea because it might be noticed, but that aside - the fastest way would be vaporizing rock with lasers and then sorting out the various elements in the resulting plasma. It works, but it's a bit slow and power intensive. In a system like this," I said, tapping the image on the hull, "most of the work is already done. With the right ship, or drones, you can practically fly through space like a whale scooping up krill. Just have to avoid the bigger chunks, which isn't hard. Sort what you scoop, keep what you need, toss the rest. One ship can quickly set up the infrastructure to make collection drones, nanoassembler factories, and ultimately more ships or anything else you need. The whole thing expands exponentially, and you can keep building until the protoplanetary disk runs out of useable mass. This one probably has one to two Jupiters' worth."
With a thought I made the image fade, and Danny took in the once again white hull. "You built a Von Neumann probe," he said, dully.
I gave him a surprised look.
"Your mother made me read, you know," he said. "That's...a lot of power, Taylor."
I nodded. "This is the fastest way to get it that I know of. And we're going to need it all."
"Isn't there a risk it'll run out of control and try to turn the universe into paperclips?" he asked.
I shook my head. "They're not going to be run by an AI, and I've got a wormhole based FTL communications device cooking. It'll keep me in control of them, wherever they go."
He reached out and touched the hull, just resting his palm on it. "I keep having these moments where things suddenly feel real," he said quietly.
"Me too," I answered in a whisper.
"Miss," Prometheus interrupted. "Vista is at the back door, and appears to be deciding whether to knock."
"I'll go talk to her," I said. "Mind putting the last few pieces on? Prometheus can tell you where they go."
He smiled at me. "I don't mind at all, Taylor. Go make a friend."
I looked through the back door to the sight of a startled Vista, wearing a still shiny replacement breastplate along with the rest of her costume.
Prometheus, I thought at him through my lace, turn off any recording feature in Vista's visor while she's here, and check for any other recording devices.
Prometheus > Command acknowledged Miss. Wireless access found. Deploying module PRT.EWAR. Visor recording disabled, no other devices found. Note that I cannot detect non-networked listening devices with the hardware I have available.
I took in the way Vista's costume hung on her frame, and her body language.
Expertise I'd gained from pursuing security came to mind.
Her armor would make a traditional body mic work poorly, and she wasn't moving like someone with something taped to her skin. There were none of the usual telltales of someone attempting to deceive, either. Not that that was a guarantee, but Vista was young enough that I doubted she'd studied how to lie.
Scientia > I don't think we need to worry about any old fashioned bugs. Thank you.
Prometheus > Of course, Miss.
I opened the door. "Hey," I said.
Her mouth worked for a moment without words coming out. "Hi," she said at last. "Um, I wanted to thank you for, well, what you did. I did a lot of things wrong that night. I almost died. Would have died, if you hadn't been there. So thank you."
I offered her a smile. "We all do dumb things sometimes. Especially when we're stressed out and don't have time to think, and when someone we care about is in danger."
Vista looked down. "Thanks," she said.
I paused for a moment.
"I know it's easier to say than to do, but try not to beat yourself up over it. Just take every lesson you can from it, then move on better for it," I said, bending my knees to lower myself to her gaze. "And you are most welcome. I would have been in trouble without your help, too."
Vista looked...relieved and embarrassed, I think.
I stood and stepped aside, and gestured with one arm at the kitchen behind me. "You'd better come on in before someone sees you, even if it is dark," I said.
"Yeah," she replied, lifting her head and coming inside looking like she wanted to say something but feeling nervous about it.
"What's on your mind?" I asked, closing the door.
Vista turned to face me. "Well...I'm sorry, but you have to be a parahuman," she said in a rush. "And you're hiding it, but I don't understand why."
"Am I?" I said, a smile on my face.
She huffed. "I'm not an idiot."
I nodded in agreement. "You're absolutely not. You're the strongest and most experienced of the local Wards, Missy."
She froze.
"How do you know my name?" she hissed.
I feigned innocence. "That's your name? I was just saying missy, like 'watch it, missy'."
She gave me a look that I interpreted as a glare from the angle of her chin. "I thought you just said I'm not an idiot. You know who I am. How? Is it your power?"
I let my voice turn tender, projecting the honesty and compassion I felt. "Hypothetically speaking, even if I did know everything about everyone, I wouldn't breach that trust without a very good reason. You've nothing to worry about from me. Although if you need me to find the name of a good mediator or divorce lawyer, I can look into it."
Vista clenched her jaw.
"It's not right for parents to drag their children into their own problems. They don't deserve that," I observed. "It's a hard thing to fix from the outside, though. I wish I could do more to help people like that. But I can at least tell the people in that sort of situation that what they're going through isn't their fault, and they deserve to be surrounded with love at home and not anger. The parents probably won't work out their problems, but hopefully they'll realize that before too long, and they'll separate, and things will get better."
"In the meantime, it's important for the children to remember that what goes on at home is not their fault, Vista," I finished with a meaningful look.
Vista took a long breath, then held her gaze level. "You know things. That must be your power," she said with certainty. "There has to be more to it, but it's something about knowing things."
"Hmm," I hummed, noncommittally.
From her lower face I judged her look to be pensive, like she was trying to figure me out.
"People with powers don't usually try to hide them. You could be in the Wards, with me, even. Whatever your power is, it seems pretty amazing. And you fought Hookwolf for me instead of hiding, or running. With just a gun, even. I don't think that's the sort of thing a villain would do. That's what a hero does. You were a hero that night." Her voice got quiet. "My hero," she added.
I smiled. "Thank you. You should keep in mind that villains are people too, they can have complicated motives. But you're right, I wouldn't want to be a villain. If I had the power to choose between dooming the world and saving it, why would I want to doom the world I live in? I think any sane person would fight to the last drop of blood before they let us all fall."
Vista's expression morphed into a mix of triumph and frustration.
"So join! I want to learn from you, and we could fight for Brockton Bay together. Please," she pleaded, clasping her hands together in an unspoken plea.
"And if that wasn't the best way for me to help?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.
"How could it not be the best way to help? People are suffering. Dying. Here. You fought Hookwolf with nothing but a gun, and you hurt him. You beat Shadow Stalker, and the Undersiders. I heard from Velocity what happened, you took them all out alone in your pajamas!" she half-shouted.
"I did. And I killed Victor to save Brandish's life, too." I admitted.
"...No wonder nobody would tell me who it was." Vista said. "You really killed him?"
"He didn't leave me much choice. I splattered his brains all over a hallway," I said bluntly. "Please keep that between us, though. At least until the Empire is dead and buried."
Vista took a breath, and her head lowered. "If you don't want to fight, I...I understand, after something like that. After I woke up in the hospital, I...had doubts too. But then I remembered what you did, and I..."
I gripped Vista by the shoulder and she brought her head back up. "It's okay. It's not that I don't want to help, or that I don't want to fight. There are a lot of people - and things - in this world that need to be fought."
"So what is it?" she asked, plaintitive.
I breathed out slowly, mentally preparing myself for what I had to say next and reaching for a good analogy. "The world is...like you were the moment we met. Bleeding on the pavement, wounded by something it can't hurt, only delay. You still had some fight left in you, and so does the world, but without help, you would have drowned in your own blood that night, and so will the world."
Vista squinted slightly. She had to be wondering where I was going with this. I kept going.
"The Endbringers are crushing cities and critical targets on a regular basis, grinding humanity down. Making it harder and harder for civilization to hold together. Desperate and broken people becoming villains make it impossible for the people who want to rebuild to do so without constant setbacks. And then there are the other threats waiting to break out and destroy."
Vista sighed. "I know."
I shook my head and tapped myself on the temple. "You know with your head, but it's been like this as long as you can remember. It's hard for you to feel how wrong it is, or how urgent it is. And that's not a fault, it's just human nature. It's how people get by without going mad.
"But things as they are can't go on. Even if no threats wipe humanity out sooner, before your thirty fifth birthday the last remnants of civilization will break down. Famine, struggle, and disease will shatter the last population centers. All that remains of humanity will be scattered remnants, with no hope of resisting the forces arrayed against us. I can't tell you how long we would hold on at that point. But it would hardly be living."
I looked at Vista in a way that would give her the impression that I was holding her gaze through her visor, and put all my sincerity and conviction into my voice.
"Someone needs to stop it. It has to be someone with the knowledge and the power necessary, and also someone with the morality to not take the easy path."
"What easy path?" Vista asked, her expression hard to read, but her voice slightly shaky.
I thought for a moment about how to formulate my answer. "Say you have power. And knowledge. You know the world is going to die if people don't stop hurting one another and start cooperating. What paths can you take?"
I let go of her shoulder and step back, holding up both of my hands. "There are an infinite number, but think about two common ways of thinking."
My right hand I opened and extended, palm up. "The first path says seek cooperation, it says lead by example, it says be as Lady Justice and carry a sword, but draw it as a last resort. It says lift the world up. Seek to inspire but never to dominate, be humanity's guide but never its master."
My left hand I raised and clenched tightly closed. "The second path says that to follow the first path is to risk everything you care about. It says cooperation is hard to find, and leading by example can get you killed. It says drawing your sword only when all else has failed may be too late to save yourself and all that you love.
"It says that with everything at stake you cannot afford to take chances. It says you have no choice but to take power, crush those who defy you, and force the world back into shape because there is no time to waste and everything is at stake."
I hold out my hands.
"The power is yours, Vista. Choose."
She said nothing for a moment. "It's not worth it. Anyone who did that would become just another monster. Better to take the risk of failure and do it the right way, than add to all the problems. Why would anyone do anything else?"
I lowered my hands and leaned in. "Fear makes fools of the wise. Good people will do terrible and foolish things to protect what they cannot bear to lose. Thus do the wise and the good lose their way. Do not ever forget. In this world, in this profession, you will be tempted to make bad decisions."
"I wouldn't ever do that," Vista said vehemently.
I straightened. "Why did you lead Hookwolf away from Gallant, alone and without a plan?" I asked.
Vista said nothing, frozen.
"Because you care about him," I answered. "You were more willing to risk your life than you were his. To care, to act with courage, those things are noble. But in being unwilling to risk Gallant's life you acted foolishly. In leading Hookwolf away you made it more likely that Hookwolf would kill a hero that night, not less.
"To use power wisely, you must be willing to risk what you care about most in order to save it. The paradox of power is that in being too willing to protect you can destroy. In being unwilling to take risks you can lose."
"I see," she said, her voice small.
"Don't feel bad. It's something I'm wrestling with. And don't misunderstand me to be saying that you should always take the moral high ground. There will be times when the road of restraint and cooperation is suicide. When you really do have no choice but to get ruthless, because you can't save anyone if you're dead or unfree to act. But that sort of thing shouldn't be your first resort. Wisdom is in knowing the difference. It's a hard thing for everyone, no matter how old and experienced they get. I think of it as a narrow path, because it's so very easy to fall off to either side. I fear the consequences of being ruthless when I should take the risky path, and I fear the consequences of taking the risky path when I should be ruthless."
Vista looked sheepish. "It's not an accident you're talking about this with me, is it?"
I shook my head, not unkindly. "No. I think you can benefit from my musings given what happened to you, is all. Don't beat yourself up. You've been forced to grow up too fast, but I can't do anything about that, so learning to think about this now is a good thing. I'm certain you're going to be a leader some day. There are far too many people who have had power for a long time who haven't learned how to use power wisely, and never will, even as the world burns around them."
"So stupid," she grumbled.
"It is, but humans aren't good at being wise. Our instincts fight us. We really need to work hard at it," I explained. "And between you and me, as people get older it's harder for them to change. Sacrifice enough years and blood trying to do things one way and it's awfully hard to admit you were doing it all wrong."
I let myself smile a bit. "That's why there'd be little point in me having this conversation with someone like Director Piggot who has solidified opinions and habits. But you have the gift of youth to go with your gift of power. You can learn to use it better than the generations before you. To walk the narrow path. Hopefully before it's all too late."
That seemed to remind Vista of what I said before about the world dying. She clenched her fists in response. "Everybody knows things aren't going well, even if nobody ever wants to talk about it. You're sure it's as bad as you say, though? I don't-I don't want to believe that we're doomed."
"I'm sure," I said, grave. "But we're not doomed. I would never let the world die."
The air rippled around Vista as space flexed and lensed in agitation. "Like hell I'm going to let the world die, either."
An approving smile tugged at my lips. "Good. So, you wanted to learn how I fought, right?"
Vista nodded, eyes wide. "You can teach me?"
I smiled. "I can do my best. Could you make the room bigger?"
"Why?" she asked, baffled at the sudden change of topic.
"Sparring," I answered with a grin.
"...You're on," she said, and the kitchen began to stretch out to give us plenty of open space to move in.
I began pushing charges into teaching. Methods and techniques filled my mind, and I focused on what would be useful for someone of Missy's age and temperament for teaching self-defense.
Vista opened with a backfist to the face, reverse punch to the solar plexus combination. I shifted my weight back so the first just missed and then guided her other arm out of the way.
"Good opening. You've got practice and good fundamentals, but there's room to work on polishing the details. Try to avoid tensing up your shoulders before you attack with them, it telegraphs those movements."
I weaved and deflected my way through another flurry of punches, being complementary about how she was already at a professional level while offering pointers as I saw places for improvement. Then I shifted to attacking to demonstrate, repeating movements occasionally. When she tried to counter-attack I took it in stride, incorporating everything into the lesson that I was building as I went and got a better feel for what Missy could do.
Then I started showing her new ways to attack and defend. How to perfectly time a feint to spoil an aggressor's timing, then capitalize with any of a range of precise and efficient takedowns that a normal human would not get up from. Some of the ways to lock down an opponent's ability to maneuver a limb so you could break it at your leisure. How to maneuver like you expect to be attacked by a second, third, or fourth attacker at any moment.
By the time I hit my fifth charge of teaching I knew what she was likely to be thinking as I presented material in our dance, and gave her exactly what she needed to hear when she needed to hear it by extrapolating from her expressions, age, body language, personality, and what she tried to do and how.
The new knowledge was guiding me to an understanding of what her likely points of confusion were, and how best to explain and illustrate exactly what she needed to see to grasp them. Past that, the later charges in particular aimed for something more fundamental. By imparting an understanding of general principles and process I could steer her on a path that would enable her to guide herself towards further understanding. Teaching her the right way to learn would do more than I could do if I'd just shown her techniques for a while.
We were both sweaty and tiring when my phone chirped, and I reached out to query it with my lace. As I did I stepped back from our spar and pulled it out, pretending to read the screen.
Tattletale > Found 'em, boss. They're holed up in a warehouse in Toronto.
Scientia > Good work. I need you two to find the Slaughterhouse Nine next.
"I'm afraid I have to call it for the evening," I said. "Something's come up."
Tattletale > Are you sure? This is the S9 you're talking about. Even the Triumvirate couldn't handle them.
Vista looked simultaneously disappointed and relieved, lowering her hands from their guard position and letting the room ease back into its usual size. "Everything okay?" she asked.
Scientia > I'm sure. I know their weaknesses, and I don't plan on being anywhere near them while I'm killing them.
I smiled. "Yes, everything's okay. There's just someone I need to talk to. You learn quickly, and you've got good fundamentals. I hope my pointers helped."
Tattletale > ...You never stop being scary, Boss. Just stay safe, I like my new job. Are you going after the Dragonslayers?
Vista's face lit up. "So much. You're incredible. I just couldn't hit you! And the things you kept showing me, I can see there were so many things I was doing wrong. I'm going to have so much to work on, now. But next time I want to try fighting you with my power. With reach and more angles I might have a chance. I just can't really do it while holding the room large at the same time."
Scientia > Yes, but I don't expect a fight. More of a sneak and grab.
"I look forward to it," I said. "We can find someplace better than here. It should be a fun challenge. You can get home alright?"
Tattletale > Those can go wrong, you know.
Vista scoffed. "Pssh. Please. Nobody will ever see me."
Scientia > I'll be loaded for bear with an escape plan just in case.
"Good," I said, opening the back door for her. "Sorry to cut this short."
Tattletale > That's the smart way to do it. Although it'd be better to get somebody else to do it. I could hook you up with some mercenaries.
"It's no problem! I was getting tired anyway, and I'm going to have to do a lot of thinking about what you showed me. Too much more and I wouldn't be able to hold it all in my head," Vista gushed, stepping towards the door before turning. "Thank you," she said sincerely.
Scientia > No room for screw ups, I'm afraid. The package has to be gotten out safely, or bad things happen. I'm worried somebody else would be detected before getting it. I'll do it myself.
I smiled. "You are most welcome. Feel free to swing by another night. Just not tomorrow."
Tattletale > You're some kind of ninja, then?
Vista stopped at the door. "Plans?" she asked, cocking her head.
Scientia > I'm anything I need to be.
"Just something I need to get done," I answered.
"Need any help?" she asked, almost timid.
For a moment I considered it. Her power would be useful if things went wrong. But it was also recognizable, and would raise questions neither of us could answer.
"It would be a little hard to explain," I said, shaking my head.
"Ah," she answered, sounding a bit dejected. "I get it."
I nodded. "Thank you for offering. I'll keep you in mind."
"Good night, and thank you again!" she said before space warped out the door and she stepped out of sight.
With my lace I opened another text message.
Scientia > Mouse, I'm going to need you on combat standby late tomorrow night. I'm rescuing Dragon from the Dragonslayers.
Mouse Protector > I'm in. If I don't get to trounce those idiots I'm going to be upset.
Scientia > Our priority has to be to make off with the device they're using to hold Dragon hostage before they can use it. Then we can call in whatever backup we need to deal with them. They've got a lot of heavy weapons if they do get suited up, I don't want you getting hit with lasers or missiles or something.
Mouse Protector > Ugh. I'm hard to hit, but you've got a point. I can make some calls and help out when the MacGuffin's out of their hands, if you don't need me sooner. Let me know when and I'll be suited up. And don't let yourself get hit, either.
Scientia > Thanks, Mouse. I'll be careful. And I've got a ride now that can get me out of trouble quickly. In a little more than twenty four hours Dragon will be free.
Mouse Protector > Any time. Think I should throw her a party?
I laughed out loud.
Scientia > I'm sure she'll love it.
I switched mental tracks.
Scientia > Prometheus, could I spin up the new VIs now?
Prometheus > The seeds are still recursing, Miss. Would you like me to purchase enough processing power to finish them quickly?
Scientia > The builder VI as soon as possible, please. The combat VI can wait until tomorrow evening.
Prometheus > Command acknowledged, Miss.
I went back down into the basement where Danny was carefully sliding the small chassis that contained one end of a stable wormhole into an open slot in the ship. It was the core of the ship's FTL communications. "That sounded like it went well," he said.
I walked over, closing the cover over the slot as he pulled his hands free. "Yeah. New friend. Maybe an ally, too. We'll see. Got some information back, though."
"Oh?" He asked.
"There's someone who needs help," I explained. "Someone who deserves it. And nobody else can do it."
His brow furrowed. "Is it going to be dangerous?"
"Nothing is completely safe, but I'll go prepared, with backup, and my intent is to be gone before they notice," I said, mentally performing a systems check on the ship.
He sighed. "I don't like you going into danger, Taylor. Parents are supposed to protect their children, not the other way around."
I sighed. "I don't either, but I'll have a space ship, be wearing armor, and carrying a gun and sword that can put down all but a handful of capes on the planet. And I'll have three VIs and Mouse watching my back. And I'm more skilled than any human alive at whatever I need to know. The risks are as low as I can make them."
"I suppose I can't ask you to stay," he said.
"Humanity needs saving," I said simply.
He gave me a heavy look that was hard to read. "Perhaps it's selfish, but you're my daughter, and part of me doesn't care."
I nodded, simply accepting. "That's because you really are a good father. Depression and loss just got in the way for a while."
Danny hugged me tight, and his cheeks were wet.
"I'm sorry, Taylor."
"Loss can hurt anyone," I said softly, hugging him back. "The important thing is that you found your way back. And I promise I'm not going to let you bury a child, any more than I'm going to stand back and let the world burn."
Danny choked. "You shouldn't make promises you might not be able to keep, Taylor."
"I'll find a way," I said.
If there was one.
"But if you can let go, I need to get this ship ready before bed."
Danny obliged me, and with a final squeeze of my shoulder he climbed the steps.
Forty minutes of systematically checking and rechecking the new ship's systems later, Prometheus interrupted me.
"The construction VI is ready for initialization, Miss."
"Good," I said.
Mentally I took the completed database and code files that represented the VI and transferred them to the new ship, then spun them up.
The ship chirped at me.
Frowning, I checked the libraries.
Did I forget to put in a vocal library, or had Prometheus cut that out of the generation queue because I said I was in a hurry?
I checked the logs. Prometheus had done some editing.
Well, it wasn't strictly necessary, it could still communicate with me by text if need be. Or more complex pieces of data, via the lace.
I could always add it later.
"Happy birthday," I said tenderly, putting a hand on the bulkhead inside the ship that protected the computing core. "You know your mission already, and what you were made to do. You need a name…"
I thought about it, and the answer came to me with a smile.
"I name you Hephaestus, after the god of the forge. You're going to make so many great things. Take these," I said, transferring blueprints I'd put together, the foundations of a self-replicating industrial base and some weapons of war, "to TW Hydrae, and get production established as quickly as you can. I'll call for you when I need you."
Hephaestus chirped again, and sent a message through the FTL link I'd installed in the ship to the other end of the wormhole in a small box across the room.
Hephaestus > Command acknowledged. Communications test.
Scientia > FTL communications module looks good.
I stepped back, taking in the ship around me. "I should give the ship a name, too. The spark that lights a flame. Spark it is, I think."
Hephaestus chirped once more, and I stepped out. The exterior doors and bays closed, and then space lensed and the Spark was gone, a subatomic bubble of warped space hurtling out beyond the outer limits of the solar system in the blink of an eye.
Tension in my gut, I accessed the internet and the U.S. Government's Endbringer monitoring network.
A video feed from an onlooker showed no visible reaction from Scion as he put out an office tower blaze in Calcutta with some sort of heat-eating cloud of vapor.
In orbit the Simurgh hadn't so much as twitched.
I let out the breath I'd been holding.
If they'd noticed I might have been forced to recall the Spark and run. Build up far away until I was ready for war.
It seemed that wouldn't be necessary, and I was free to act.
Good.
Thanks to @Corvus Black for proofreading.
This turned into a long one, I hope you guys enjoyed it. I think you'll enjoy the action coming up.
Next time on Scientia Weaponizes the Future, Scientia pays the Dragonslayers an unsubtle visit.
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I HOPE WE GET MORE TAYLOR AND MISSY MOMENTS.(SORRY, MY KEYBOARD IS BROKE SO IT'S STUCK ON CAPS LOCK UNTIL I GET A NEW ONE.)
TaliesinSkye
Occasional Editor
- Location
- Northeast Ohio, United States
I'm glad you enjoyed the Missy scene, it can be tricky for me as the author to tell whether those character building scenes 'work' or not.
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UNDERSTANDABLE. IT DID WORK, REALLY WELL IN FACT, ALSO MORE MOUSE PROTECTOR SOON! YAY! IT CAN NEVER HURT TO ADD MORE MOUSE PROTECTOR IN A WORM FIC, GRIMDERP AS WORM IS AND ALL THAT.
EDIT: I FEEL LIKE A KEYBOARD WARRIOR. I DON'T LIKE IT
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Hold the shift key when you are typing everything that doesn't need capitalization.
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Thank you.
UNDERSTANDABLE. IT DID WORK, REALLY WELL IN FACT, ALSO MORE MOUSE PROTECTOR SOON! YAY! IT CAN NEVER HURT TO ADD MORE MOUSE PROTECTOR IN A WORM FIC, GRIMDERP AS WORM IS AND ALL THAT.
EDIT: I FEEL LIKE A KEYBOARD WARRIOR. I DON'T LIKE IT
This site has a fix, maybe?: Caps Lock: how to turn the "all caps" key on and off
Regarding the chapter, Missy's reaction (should things go loud) will be hilarious.
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definitely, but wait a sec how will missy explain her cqc skill increase