Alright. So I'll be the first to admit that I have no idea what I'm doing.
I've been meaning...
I've been meaning...
Stealing Fire (Worm SI)
- Thread starter Jack Stargazer
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1.1 - Arrival
- Location
- Canada
Alright. So I'll be the first to admit that I have no idea what I'm doing.
I've been meaning to actually post something on here for a while. I've had a few false-starts for some stories I've had in mind, which either hit a Writer's Brick Wall, or just kind of petered off and never really came back to me. I'm sure other writers here had had the same experience.
That said, this one came to me while driving and basically played itself out straight through. It's been a while since I've read canon, and I'm just about to start an intensive course, so I'll probably be updating this irregularly at best as I try to get a feel for the characters and setting. I'm also going to try to do some background research to ensure I don't completely fuck up the science.
I wanted to post this here both to judge interest and to give myself a reason to actually consider moving forward with it. Criticism is immensely welcome - I'm probably shit at this.
Without further ado:
1.1 - Arrival
Ow.
My head hurts.
I don't mean just normal 'Ugh, what did I drink last night?' hurts either. This is more on the level of 'Did anyone get the number of that truck?' To add injury to more injury, I appear to be face down on what appears to be asphalt, my left leg is asleep, and something jagged is poking into my side.
Have I mentioned Ow?
Because ow.
I push myself up from where I'm laying on the ground. I'm in an alleyway. This is strange mainly because the last thing I remember is being on a plane, on the way to Toronto. I didn't have anything to drink, and I can't really remember anything strange happening… urp.
Out of nowhere, I'm suddenly overcome with some of the worst nausea I've ever had. I rush over to a nearby garbage can, toss off the lid and clasp both hands to the side handles to hold myself upright as I vomit up what seems to be soup, a bunch of jerky, and what may or may not be half of my organs.
"Ugh…"
Man, I didn't think any city still had these old metal cans. Where the hell am I?
I straighten up and move to wipe my mouth on my shirt. Its then I notice that my shirt isn't in much better condition than the alley itself (seriously?), and the smell of both myself and my surroundings suddenly hits me with the approximate force and quality of a half ton gorilla who has been rolling in manure for a week.
I stumble out of the alley into the street, leaning on a graffiti filled wall - looks like it's been written over a bunch of times. The one on top seems to be some stretched out infinity symbols or numbers. Whoever made it was not exactly an expert artist.
Annnd it was still wet. Wonderful. That shirt's even more ruined, though really everything I'm wearing is a write off at this point. My day continues to improve.
The street is deserted, and the streetlamps are flickering in the dim evening light. I can't tell if they are actually broken or if their light sensors are bugging out from the just-ending sunset.
Man, how long was I out? It was like 3 in the afternoon the last time I checked!
I look around. This is clearly Shitsville, wherever I am. Everything here seems to be falling apart. There are broken and boarded up windows all over the place, piles of garbage bags and assorted trash (I guess pickup isn't regular here) and a serious lack of any people. The graffiti I saw on the wall of the alley is everywhere, alternating between red and green, red and black, and just a mess of colors. All in all, I'm clearly not in the best part of town, wherever this is. I'd better keep a close eye on my…
I reach into my pockets. They are empty.
They are not supposed to be empty.
"FUCK!"
Goddamn shit piss crap. My cell phone, my keys, my wallet, all gone. My backpack with my computer, headphones, assorted cables and extra cash is also gone.
Some son of a bitch robbed me and dumped me in an alleyway. Shit, that could explain the headache and the memory loss - what if I got knocked out?
I feel around my head, and sure enough, there's a painful bump right around the back on the right hand side. Damn. Well, no use crying about it now. I'm going to need to find a police station, fill out a report, and call my bank to cancel my cards.
Of course, first I need to figure out where the hell I am.
…
Man, I really have gotten used to the Internet. I automatically reached for my cell phone to pull up Google Maps. Damn, this sucks.
Not having any idea where to go, I turn left and start walking. I figure if I see someone who doesn't look likely to knife me for money I've already been robbed of, I'll ask them how to get to the nearest police station. Otherwise, try to find a good vantage point or some indication of where I'm at - if I can see skyscrapers, that should be a downtown area and logically safer and more likely to find a police station than whatever slums I'm in.
As I walk, I notice my headache starts to recede. I'm thankful for that; when I woke up I could barely walk, but there's no dizziness, the nausea is gone, and aside from the memory disconnect it's looking like I don't have a concussion. Thanks for that much I guess, world. You still owe me about $3000 worth of computer hardware, cash, and what is likely going to be a good 18 hours of my life trying to get new ID issued with nothing on me for identification and no explanation for how I got wherever I am.
I sort of zone out as I walk, kicking myself for whatever Past-Me did that put him in a position to get clubbed and dumped in an alleyway sans possessions. Seriously, my judgement is not usually that bad. I don't drink, I don't do drugs, and I don't have any high-risk or dangerous pastimes.
As I move, I'm looking for landmarks I don't seem to be able to find. All the buildings around me (which I notice are seeming more and more industrial in this direction - abandoned warehouses?) are pretty much crap, and are in various states of disrepair. There are bits of trash and broken metal, wood and other building materials haphazardly piled around in alleys, behind fences, or in some cases spilling onto the sidewalk or road itself. I can see what must be a pile of used needles over there. Wonderful. Glad I've still got shoes. All I need now is to step on a sharps pile and contract some horrible disease. That'd make the day I'm having complete.
All in all, not the best vacation destination. I can see the Yelp reviews already. '3/10, I tripped and got tetanus, would not visit again.'
Noticing something in between two warehouses, I jump up onto the cement base of a lamppost for a boost and stretch upwards to my full just under two meter height. As I strain my neck, I can just barely see a glimmer behind one of the warehouses. Looked like water, maybe a lake or ocean. That would make sense if this is Toronto - it's right on the lake - but I still can't see any skyscrapers, Rogers Centre, or the CN Tower, so maybe I'm in a suburb.
Well, it's the closest thing to a landmark I've seen so far. Yay, +1 'not shit' point. We're up to -999 for today.
I'm thinking positive.
I turn and head past the looming warehouses, through some more streets in desperate need of cleaning. As I move, the lights get slightly brighter, and the decor seems to shift from crappy warehouses to crappy apartments. Still no people that I can see, barring what appears to be a homeless man in an alley mumbling to himself and rocking slowly back and forth. I'm not sure exactly what he's saying, but it sounded like it has something to do with the Fourth Crusades.
Yeah, gonna leave that one alone. Sorry buddy, but you might actually be worse off than me right now.
I cross the road, noticing that there are a bunch of cars haphazardly parked across the street and on the sidewalk. Looks like broken windows and… are those bullet holes? I freeze for a moment and look closer.
I'm going to guess that rust-colored stain isn't rust.
Speeding up then.
Well, if I wasn't nervous enough before, this certainly did it. I can feel myself surging with adrenaline, and my breathing speeds up significantly. I start glancing more seriously down alley ways and side streets, avoiding the light of the streetlamps as much as possible. Something strange has already happened today, I'm not falling for whatever that was again.
As I move in a not-quite-a-run-but-as-close-as-I-can-get-without-seeming-like-running past what appears to have been some kind of massive shootout, I see the area opening up towards the lake/ocean/whatever.
Well, that's helpful at least.
As I move in that direction however, I think I see a flash of movement. I stop and flatten myself against a wall, away from the light. Inching forward slowly, I glance down the alleyway where I could have sworn I saw someone in a suit walking, and a bright light, but there's nothing there but a security light over a boarded up back door to some grungy shop and another hobo asleep in a pile of trash. Man. Paranoia is a hell of a drug. I'm still riding the adrenaline high. I turn and walk away.
As I leave the alley entrance, I notice something. And by 'notice', I mean 'almost trip over because I wasn't looking down'. Ok, less of the random glancing now, more of the not face-planting into objects or pavement.
One of those old newspaper stands - the kind that hinges open and has a bunch of the probably-government-subsidized newspapers in it, free of charge. Poor little newspapers. Five years from now, you'll probably all have finished dying off. This is an endangered species preserve right here.
I look it over, keeping an eye out, still in high paranoia mode. With my luck, I'm in the middle of Compton.
Well time to bite the bullet.
I open the lid, reach inside, and pull out a paper.
Then I immediately drop it on the ground as it's soaked through with what I hope is water but on this street is more likely some other bodily fluid. I wipe my hands on my already stained pants rapidly, and grab a new one from the middle of the pile, pulling it out and moving under the streetlight to read it.
The picture on the cover is of a ruined building, part of it exploded outwards, part of it frozen in what looks to be ice or crystal. The one under the fold is of a group of what look to be gangers exchanging automatic weapon fire with what might be reservists or national guard and… is that an APC with claw marks?
… What.
… No, seriously, what.
I start to breathe even faster, reaching hyperventilating levels now. My heart must be doing 180 bpm at this point. I drop the paper and run around the corner towards the lake.
There's that shine I saw over the buildings. Right in the middle of a large harbor is a giant structure, which looks like a cross between a modern military base, an oil rig, and a sci-fi fortress. A slightly glowing energy shield surrounds it in a bubble. That's the light I was seeing in between the buildings.
It's something I've never seen before, but it's something I've read about enough times to know exactly what it is. The awe of seeing a floating fortress quickly runs into horror as I realize which fortress it is.
The Protectorate ENE HQ.
Fuck.
FUCK.
"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!"
Nonononononono.
Alright. Getting robbed? That's a bad day. This...
I'm not even going to bother pretending this could be a dream. My dreams never actually make sense. I haven't changed PoV or started to fly. Can't lift things with my mind. Nope, this is either real or I've been fed some very serious drugs.
Shit.
I'm in Brockton Bay. On Earth Bet.
I'm in the docks, or somewhere in the gang part of town.
It's… barely into the main plot. April 23? Shit what's important about that date?
I freeze. I stop breathing, I stop moving. I can't remember this date, but I remember other ones.
My heart might stop for a second, but a second later it's all I can hear.
Leviathan hits Brockton Bay on May 15, 2011. The city is pretty much levelled.
In less than three weeks, the equivalent of a biblical plague is going to hit this city. Scratch that, Endbringers make Old Testament God look shit-tier, excepting the whole Noah thing.
Hundreds of thousands of people are going to die. If I'm still here, I'll probably be one of them.
In the interim, there are bombings (which according to the paper have already started), E88 is going to be outed by Coil, the fundraiser thing and.. Man I don't remember what else. I've only read canon once like 3 years ago! All the fanfics I read change shit!
And then joy upon joys, two weeks after that, the Slaughterhouse Nine get into town and start their own bit of merry little fun. Proving yet again that forces of nature can be cruel, but only human beings can go all the way into what even an atheist would call evil.
Oh, and then two years later the world ends because nobody shot Jack Slash in the head fast enough.
My vision is blurring. It's getting a bit dark at the edges. Huh. Didn't think that was a thing that actually happened.
I spend eight years of my life training, and just before I actually start my life for real, I'm dropped into what is a close second to Evangelion for 'crapsackiest setting'.
I manage to choke out a slightly hysterical laugh. "I know life isn't fair, but this is kind of above and beyond."
Too much. It's too much. I'm going to die. I'm the equivalent of a mayfly here. I can't do anything. I have a vague idea of what's happening, and if I wasn't in the process of having a breakdown I could probably try to do something, but even if there was someone who would believe me, I'm in a city which rivals comic Gotham for murder and crime rates. I have no money, no identification, and the government here takes paranoia to a quite frankly ludicrous extreme.
I'll be lucky to survive the night.
Why didn't I learn something useful? How is a bunch of information on how to do research or format a legal factum useful here?!
I don't want to die.
I collapse to the ground. I can feel a pulsing in my head and…
I stood up.
My heart was calm. It beat at 72.5 beats per minute, pushing slightly over 5035 ml of blood through my body in the same period. It would last another 27,331,180 minutes at current usage before epigenetic cues would trigger a failure, causing cardiac arrest.
This could be improved on or worked around.
I glanced at my surroundings. Titanium. Aluminum. Copper. Traces of lanthanides. Magnets. I could tell at a glance what the poles, lines, and machines around me were made of. I could see how to change them, to reforge the raw materials into new forms, used to enhance or improve myself. I could see how to build a body that could survive any injury. A mental back-up system.
Improved neurons. Increased intelligence. A brain-machine interface. Increased mental clock time. Transferring information with quantum entanglement. Cloud processing. Effectively unbreakable quantum encryption. It was all so simple (mostly). I can't believe I hadn't seen it before.
I frowned as my mental focus moved over to another line of thought and I felt a pull. I know what this is. Superhuman strength and speed. A weapon that temporarily (or not so temporarily) interrupts neuroelectric signals. A toxin more virulent than botulinism, and thousands of times deadlier. A way to render a person immune to almost every poison by maintaining and updating a biological molecular blacklist. Artificial plagues and artificial immune systems. Black ICE, which uses a DNI to fry a user's grey matter. Consumptive self-replicating nanites. Actual, functional, memetic weapons. How to adapt cordyceps to - NOPE. THAT'S THE FLOOD. STOPPING THERE.
I shook my head and some of the more offensive weapons faded. But I could tell they were still there. Conflict inducers. I'd have to keep an eye on that.
I'd triggered. I was a Tinker.
I was a Tinker with, it appeared, a specialty of human biology, and human augmentation.
I took a deep breath. And burst out laughing at the top of my lungs. My eyes are watering, I'm holding onto my sides and gasping for breath.
"HAHAHAHAHA! Well, I never asked for this."
I smile and catch my breath, slowing down, and taking a few deep breaths, calming myself. I look up at the sky.
"But alright. I'll give it a shot."
As I stand there and look deeper, both into space and into myself, I can see other plans unfurling in my mind's eye. Fusion power generation. Nuclear Pulse Propulsion. A glimpse of something that might be part of an O'Neill Cylinder. But then it's gone. I need to build a few generations of machines first. But eventually...
"Someday. Someday soon."
I laugh again softly to myself, still staring up at the sky.
A voice rings out from behind me, and I tense. It seems to be barely stopping itself from laughing, and is loaded with more smug than I thought it was possible to fit in one sentence.
"So, are you going to share the joke with the rest of the class?"
I turn around.
A girl wearing a dollar store dog halloween mask. A biker with a skull-face helmet and smoke pouring off his form. A girl with the regulation tiny domino mask, a purple skin-tight suit, and a devilish grin. A guy in a frilly shirt, with a Venetian mask and scepter, and a girl - the girl - surrounded by a swarm of insects, nothing visible but chitin, yellow lenses, and dark, bushy hair.
Well.
I smile. +1000 Good Day Points. You win this round, world.
"The Undersiders, I presume?"
That makes things a little easier.
I've been meaning to actually post something on here for a while. I've had a few false-starts for some stories I've had in mind, which either hit a Writer's Brick Wall, or just kind of petered off and never really came back to me. I'm sure other writers here had had the same experience.
That said, this one came to me while driving and basically played itself out straight through. It's been a while since I've read canon, and I'm just about to start an intensive course, so I'll probably be updating this irregularly at best as I try to get a feel for the characters and setting. I'm also going to try to do some background research to ensure I don't completely fuck up the science.
I wanted to post this here both to judge interest and to give myself a reason to actually consider moving forward with it. Criticism is immensely welcome - I'm probably shit at this.
Without further ado:
1.1 - Arrival
Ow.
My head hurts.
I don't mean just normal 'Ugh, what did I drink last night?' hurts either. This is more on the level of 'Did anyone get the number of that truck?' To add injury to more injury, I appear to be face down on what appears to be asphalt, my left leg is asleep, and something jagged is poking into my side.
Have I mentioned Ow?
Because ow.
I push myself up from where I'm laying on the ground. I'm in an alleyway. This is strange mainly because the last thing I remember is being on a plane, on the way to Toronto. I didn't have anything to drink, and I can't really remember anything strange happening… urp.
Out of nowhere, I'm suddenly overcome with some of the worst nausea I've ever had. I rush over to a nearby garbage can, toss off the lid and clasp both hands to the side handles to hold myself upright as I vomit up what seems to be soup, a bunch of jerky, and what may or may not be half of my organs.
"Ugh…"
Man, I didn't think any city still had these old metal cans. Where the hell am I?
I straighten up and move to wipe my mouth on my shirt. Its then I notice that my shirt isn't in much better condition than the alley itself (seriously?), and the smell of both myself and my surroundings suddenly hits me with the approximate force and quality of a half ton gorilla who has been rolling in manure for a week.
I stumble out of the alley into the street, leaning on a graffiti filled wall - looks like it's been written over a bunch of times. The one on top seems to be some stretched out infinity symbols or numbers. Whoever made it was not exactly an expert artist.
Annnd it was still wet. Wonderful. That shirt's even more ruined, though really everything I'm wearing is a write off at this point. My day continues to improve.
The street is deserted, and the streetlamps are flickering in the dim evening light. I can't tell if they are actually broken or if their light sensors are bugging out from the just-ending sunset.
Man, how long was I out? It was like 3 in the afternoon the last time I checked!
I look around. This is clearly Shitsville, wherever I am. Everything here seems to be falling apart. There are broken and boarded up windows all over the place, piles of garbage bags and assorted trash (I guess pickup isn't regular here) and a serious lack of any people. The graffiti I saw on the wall of the alley is everywhere, alternating between red and green, red and black, and just a mess of colors. All in all, I'm clearly not in the best part of town, wherever this is. I'd better keep a close eye on my…
I reach into my pockets. They are empty.
They are not supposed to be empty.
"FUCK!"
Goddamn shit piss crap. My cell phone, my keys, my wallet, all gone. My backpack with my computer, headphones, assorted cables and extra cash is also gone.
Some son of a bitch robbed me and dumped me in an alleyway. Shit, that could explain the headache and the memory loss - what if I got knocked out?
I feel around my head, and sure enough, there's a painful bump right around the back on the right hand side. Damn. Well, no use crying about it now. I'm going to need to find a police station, fill out a report, and call my bank to cancel my cards.
Of course, first I need to figure out where the hell I am.
…
Man, I really have gotten used to the Internet. I automatically reached for my cell phone to pull up Google Maps. Damn, this sucks.
Not having any idea where to go, I turn left and start walking. I figure if I see someone who doesn't look likely to knife me for money I've already been robbed of, I'll ask them how to get to the nearest police station. Otherwise, try to find a good vantage point or some indication of where I'm at - if I can see skyscrapers, that should be a downtown area and logically safer and more likely to find a police station than whatever slums I'm in.
As I walk, I notice my headache starts to recede. I'm thankful for that; when I woke up I could barely walk, but there's no dizziness, the nausea is gone, and aside from the memory disconnect it's looking like I don't have a concussion. Thanks for that much I guess, world. You still owe me about $3000 worth of computer hardware, cash, and what is likely going to be a good 18 hours of my life trying to get new ID issued with nothing on me for identification and no explanation for how I got wherever I am.
I sort of zone out as I walk, kicking myself for whatever Past-Me did that put him in a position to get clubbed and dumped in an alleyway sans possessions. Seriously, my judgement is not usually that bad. I don't drink, I don't do drugs, and I don't have any high-risk or dangerous pastimes.
As I move, I'm looking for landmarks I don't seem to be able to find. All the buildings around me (which I notice are seeming more and more industrial in this direction - abandoned warehouses?) are pretty much crap, and are in various states of disrepair. There are bits of trash and broken metal, wood and other building materials haphazardly piled around in alleys, behind fences, or in some cases spilling onto the sidewalk or road itself. I can see what must be a pile of used needles over there. Wonderful. Glad I've still got shoes. All I need now is to step on a sharps pile and contract some horrible disease. That'd make the day I'm having complete.
All in all, not the best vacation destination. I can see the Yelp reviews already. '3/10, I tripped and got tetanus, would not visit again.'
Noticing something in between two warehouses, I jump up onto the cement base of a lamppost for a boost and stretch upwards to my full just under two meter height. As I strain my neck, I can just barely see a glimmer behind one of the warehouses. Looked like water, maybe a lake or ocean. That would make sense if this is Toronto - it's right on the lake - but I still can't see any skyscrapers, Rogers Centre, or the CN Tower, so maybe I'm in a suburb.
Well, it's the closest thing to a landmark I've seen so far. Yay, +1 'not shit' point. We're up to -999 for today.
I'm thinking positive.
I turn and head past the looming warehouses, through some more streets in desperate need of cleaning. As I move, the lights get slightly brighter, and the decor seems to shift from crappy warehouses to crappy apartments. Still no people that I can see, barring what appears to be a homeless man in an alley mumbling to himself and rocking slowly back and forth. I'm not sure exactly what he's saying, but it sounded like it has something to do with the Fourth Crusades.
Yeah, gonna leave that one alone. Sorry buddy, but you might actually be worse off than me right now.
I cross the road, noticing that there are a bunch of cars haphazardly parked across the street and on the sidewalk. Looks like broken windows and… are those bullet holes? I freeze for a moment and look closer.
I'm going to guess that rust-colored stain isn't rust.
Speeding up then.
Well, if I wasn't nervous enough before, this certainly did it. I can feel myself surging with adrenaline, and my breathing speeds up significantly. I start glancing more seriously down alley ways and side streets, avoiding the light of the streetlamps as much as possible. Something strange has already happened today, I'm not falling for whatever that was again.
As I move in a not-quite-a-run-but-as-close-as-I-can-get-without-seeming-like-running past what appears to have been some kind of massive shootout, I see the area opening up towards the lake/ocean/whatever.
Well, that's helpful at least.
As I move in that direction however, I think I see a flash of movement. I stop and flatten myself against a wall, away from the light. Inching forward slowly, I glance down the alleyway where I could have sworn I saw someone in a suit walking, and a bright light, but there's nothing there but a security light over a boarded up back door to some grungy shop and another hobo asleep in a pile of trash. Man. Paranoia is a hell of a drug. I'm still riding the adrenaline high. I turn and walk away.
As I leave the alley entrance, I notice something. And by 'notice', I mean 'almost trip over because I wasn't looking down'. Ok, less of the random glancing now, more of the not face-planting into objects or pavement.
One of those old newspaper stands - the kind that hinges open and has a bunch of the probably-government-subsidized newspapers in it, free of charge. Poor little newspapers. Five years from now, you'll probably all have finished dying off. This is an endangered species preserve right here.
I look it over, keeping an eye out, still in high paranoia mode. With my luck, I'm in the middle of Compton.
Well time to bite the bullet.
I open the lid, reach inside, and pull out a paper.
Then I immediately drop it on the ground as it's soaked through with what I hope is water but on this street is more likely some other bodily fluid. I wipe my hands on my already stained pants rapidly, and grab a new one from the middle of the pile, pulling it out and moving under the streetlight to read it.
Brockton Bay Gazette
April 23, 2011
ABB BREAKS LUNG OUT OF CUSTODY - BOMBING SPREE LEAVES 20 DEAD
VIOLENCE IN THE STREETS! ABB ATTACKING POLICE AND MILITARY IN RETALIATION FOR CAPTURE OF LEADER!
April 23, 2011
ABB BREAKS LUNG OUT OF CUSTODY - BOMBING SPREE LEAVES 20 DEAD
VIOLENCE IN THE STREETS! ABB ATTACKING POLICE AND MILITARY IN RETALIATION FOR CAPTURE OF LEADER!
The picture on the cover is of a ruined building, part of it exploded outwards, part of it frozen in what looks to be ice or crystal. The one under the fold is of a group of what look to be gangers exchanging automatic weapon fire with what might be reservists or national guard and… is that an APC with claw marks?
… What.
… No, seriously, what.
I start to breathe even faster, reaching hyperventilating levels now. My heart must be doing 180 bpm at this point. I drop the paper and run around the corner towards the lake.
There's that shine I saw over the buildings. Right in the middle of a large harbor is a giant structure, which looks like a cross between a modern military base, an oil rig, and a sci-fi fortress. A slightly glowing energy shield surrounds it in a bubble. That's the light I was seeing in between the buildings.
It's something I've never seen before, but it's something I've read about enough times to know exactly what it is. The awe of seeing a floating fortress quickly runs into horror as I realize which fortress it is.
The Protectorate ENE HQ.
Fuck.
FUCK.
"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!"
Nonononononono.
Alright. Getting robbed? That's a bad day. This...
I'm not even going to bother pretending this could be a dream. My dreams never actually make sense. I haven't changed PoV or started to fly. Can't lift things with my mind. Nope, this is either real or I've been fed some very serious drugs.
Shit.
I'm in Brockton Bay. On Earth Bet.
I'm in the docks, or somewhere in the gang part of town.
It's… barely into the main plot. April 23? Shit what's important about that date?
I freeze. I stop breathing, I stop moving. I can't remember this date, but I remember other ones.
My heart might stop for a second, but a second later it's all I can hear.
Leviathan hits Brockton Bay on May 15, 2011. The city is pretty much levelled.
In less than three weeks, the equivalent of a biblical plague is going to hit this city. Scratch that, Endbringers make Old Testament God look shit-tier, excepting the whole Noah thing.
Hundreds of thousands of people are going to die. If I'm still here, I'll probably be one of them.
In the interim, there are bombings (which according to the paper have already started), E88 is going to be outed by Coil, the fundraiser thing and.. Man I don't remember what else. I've only read canon once like 3 years ago! All the fanfics I read change shit!
And then joy upon joys, two weeks after that, the Slaughterhouse Nine get into town and start their own bit of merry little fun. Proving yet again that forces of nature can be cruel, but only human beings can go all the way into what even an atheist would call evil.
Oh, and then two years later the world ends because nobody shot Jack Slash in the head fast enough.
My vision is blurring. It's getting a bit dark at the edges. Huh. Didn't think that was a thing that actually happened.
I spend eight years of my life training, and just before I actually start my life for real, I'm dropped into what is a close second to Evangelion for 'crapsackiest setting'.
I manage to choke out a slightly hysterical laugh. "I know life isn't fair, but this is kind of above and beyond."
Too much. It's too much. I'm going to die. I'm the equivalent of a mayfly here. I can't do anything. I have a vague idea of what's happening, and if I wasn't in the process of having a breakdown I could probably try to do something, but even if there was someone who would believe me, I'm in a city which rivals comic Gotham for murder and crime rates. I have no money, no identification, and the government here takes paranoia to a quite frankly ludicrous extreme.
I'll be lucky to survive the night.
Why didn't I learn something useful? How is a bunch of information on how to do research or format a legal factum useful here?!
I don't want to die.
I collapse to the ground. I can feel a pulsing in my head and…
My mind was filled with something vast.
Enormous beings, the size of continents, the size of moons, too large to accurately comprehend drifted. They came together and parted. The parts seemed to shift and flow between places, reflected in themselves, as if they were facets on a vast gem, and the edges weren't quite matching up as they should be. They shared information, communicating through thoughts too large and complex for a normal human mind to comprehend. Whole books of information exchanged in what seemed to be simple concepts.
Destination. Agreement. Trajectory. Agreement.
Two of the things came closer. They touched. They shared even more. Like a timelapse film, they moved together for a while, sped up incredibly. That sharing allowed both to change. They grew. One of the two seemed to split, a new enormous being emerging/shifting from its bulk. It seemed to have parts which were reflections of both, yet unique in its own way. The new thing moved closer to me, it seemed to rush straight at me and…
Enormous beings, the size of continents, the size of moons, too large to accurately comprehend drifted. They came together and parted. The parts seemed to shift and flow between places, reflected in themselves, as if they were facets on a vast gem, and the edges weren't quite matching up as they should be. They shared information, communicating through thoughts too large and complex for a normal human mind to comprehend. Whole books of information exchanged in what seemed to be simple concepts.
Destination. Agreement. Trajectory. Agreement.
Two of the things came closer. They touched. They shared even more. Like a timelapse film, they moved together for a while, sped up incredibly. That sharing allowed both to change. They grew. One of the two seemed to split, a new enormous being emerging/shifting from its bulk. It seemed to have parts which were reflections of both, yet unique in its own way. The new thing moved closer to me, it seemed to rush straight at me and…
I stood up.
My heart was calm. It beat at 72.5 beats per minute, pushing slightly over 5035 ml of blood through my body in the same period. It would last another 27,331,180 minutes at current usage before epigenetic cues would trigger a failure, causing cardiac arrest.
This could be improved on or worked around.
I glanced at my surroundings. Titanium. Aluminum. Copper. Traces of lanthanides. Magnets. I could tell at a glance what the poles, lines, and machines around me were made of. I could see how to change them, to reforge the raw materials into new forms, used to enhance or improve myself. I could see how to build a body that could survive any injury. A mental back-up system.
Improved neurons. Increased intelligence. A brain-machine interface. Increased mental clock time. Transferring information with quantum entanglement. Cloud processing. Effectively unbreakable quantum encryption. It was all so simple (mostly). I can't believe I hadn't seen it before.
I frowned as my mental focus moved over to another line of thought and I felt a pull. I know what this is. Superhuman strength and speed. A weapon that temporarily (or not so temporarily) interrupts neuroelectric signals. A toxin more virulent than botulinism, and thousands of times deadlier. A way to render a person immune to almost every poison by maintaining and updating a biological molecular blacklist. Artificial plagues and artificial immune systems. Black ICE, which uses a DNI to fry a user's grey matter. Consumptive self-replicating nanites. Actual, functional, memetic weapons. How to adapt cordyceps to - NOPE. THAT'S THE FLOOD. STOPPING THERE.
I shook my head and some of the more offensive weapons faded. But I could tell they were still there. Conflict inducers. I'd have to keep an eye on that.
I'd triggered. I was a Tinker.
I was a Tinker with, it appeared, a specialty of human biology, and human augmentation.
I took a deep breath. And burst out laughing at the top of my lungs. My eyes are watering, I'm holding onto my sides and gasping for breath.
"HAHAHAHAHA! Well, I never asked for this."
I smile and catch my breath, slowing down, and taking a few deep breaths, calming myself. I look up at the sky.
"But alright. I'll give it a shot."
As I stand there and look deeper, both into space and into myself, I can see other plans unfurling in my mind's eye. Fusion power generation. Nuclear Pulse Propulsion. A glimpse of something that might be part of an O'Neill Cylinder. But then it's gone. I need to build a few generations of machines first. But eventually...
"Someday. Someday soon."
I laugh again softly to myself, still staring up at the sky.
A voice rings out from behind me, and I tense. It seems to be barely stopping itself from laughing, and is loaded with more smug than I thought it was possible to fit in one sentence.
"So, are you going to share the joke with the rest of the class?"
I turn around.
A girl wearing a dollar store dog halloween mask. A biker with a skull-face helmet and smoke pouring off his form. A girl with the regulation tiny domino mask, a purple skin-tight suit, and a devilish grin. A guy in a frilly shirt, with a Venetian mask and scepter, and a girl - the girl - surrounded by a swarm of insects, nothing visible but chitin, yellow lenses, and dark, bushy hair.
Well.
I smile. +1000 Good Day Points. You win this round, world.
"The Undersiders, I presume?"
That makes things a little easier.
Last edited:
1.T - Tattletale Interlude
- Location
- Canada
Holy shit I can't believe I just sat down for two hours and wrote over three thousand words. I'm never this productive.
This is basically unedited, so please point out any typos.
Don't expect this kind of update speed in the future, I have no idea how this happened. The whole situation kind of went someone I didn't plan at all, just kind of naturally expanded there. Tattletale's power is really hard to write for, but I think I've got a handle on it after reading her PoV chapter again in Canon and some other background stuff.
Edit: Let the dogs out. Then gave them names.
1.T - Tattletale Interlude
It had been a relatively quiet walk on the way back to the loft. Except for Taylor leaning in to commiserate with Bitch - and that was a relationship even I couldn't really make heads or tails of - everyone remained relatively quiet.
I didn't like it.
Bitch had fucked up. Before she tried to take out an E88 run establishment she should have fucking told us. I get her thing with dogs, and it's pretty clear that what Hookwolf was doing wasn't going to fly, but fuck we almost got ganked by Kaizer in a small room.We're lucky it came out at Somer's Rock. If it wasn't on neutral territory, we could all be breathing through several new holes now.
We'd made an enemy we didn't need to make at this point, and Bitch just wasn't understanding what went wrong. But this was affecting the normal atmosphere of the group. Despite our very different pasts, we had worked well together. We took down most of the Wards at the Bank, and time spent at the lair was always filled with jibes and teasing. I liked it. It was nice being part of a group which actually trusted each other for once.
It felt a bit colder now. Isolated. I hate being isolated. I can tell Taylor does too, though that thing she does with the swarm seems to let her get around it. I don't know if she's even realized she's doing it yet, offloading feelings to the bugs around her.
I suppose she's lucky she didn't end up like Bitch. Imagine only being able to understand inse-
Discontinuity.
I groaned and shook my head as I woke up. I took a quick look around and saw the rest of the team around me on the ground, right where they had been last I checked. As I watched, Grue hauled himself up and shook his head. Regent raised an arm and pointed it at the sky.
"I'm going to call foul on that. Normally, I've had a lot more to drink before that happens." he claims, as he drops his arm back down and rolls to his knees. "Ow. Think I hit my head on the way down."
"At least nothing important was damaged then." I quip.
He responds with a very unkind gesture. I roll my eyes.
Taylor and Bitch seem to have fallen almost on top of each other, and have managed to untangle themselves at this point, though not without a bit of cursing on the larger girl's part. Taylor takes a few steps back afterwards and looks towards me.
"What was that? Why did we all suddenly collapse?"
Grue turns and tilts his head slightly. "Tattletale?"
I open the gates just a bit.
Unconsciousness triggered in response to something. Unconsciousness lasted a short period.
Helicopter overhead, still flying. Hasn't fallen and isn't recovering from a dive. Pilot unaffected.
Most people unaffected. Only we were affected. Effect only targeted parahumans. Effect was limited to a certain range.
Effect was caused by new trigger.
My eyes widen in surprise. "Holy shit. I think someone just triggered right next door to us."
The group's reaction to this varied. Grue and Skitter both seemed to tense, and I could see Skitter's hair moving as some insects began to fly out and away, probably to join a search already in progress in the nearby area. Grue's darkness began to smoke out of his helmet and gloves and he turned his head slightly as if surveying our immediate surroundings.
Regent seemed unconcerned. He just kept rubbing the back of his head and complaining. Bitch was growling and looking around, clearly wishing she had brought the dogs with her. If this turned into a fight, she was going to be almost useless, and she knew it.
"I think I found him." Skitter said. "There's only one guy awake and out on the street within a couple of blocks. He's standing on the overlook behind some of the warehouses, just staring at the Protectorate HQ. He hasn't moved since we woke up. If he's got powers though he doesn't seem to be using them. It's nothing obvious anyways."
I turn to Grue.
"So, what's the play oh fearless leader?"
He pauses for a moment. I take a closer look.
Worried. Knows new triggers are dangerous. Knows that there is serious risk to confronting a newly triggered cape. Is remembering Rachel's history. Remembers that she killed someone when she triggered. Remembers her actions now and two weeks ago. Is starting to see Rachel as a potential liability. Is wondering if the new cape could be recruited. Is wondering if the new cape could replace Rachel as a heavy-hitter. Is…
I stop, a twinge of pain going through my head as I wince. Too little to go on. Shit, I'm going to have to deal with that before it gets out of hand.
Grue turns towards the location Skitter indicated. "We need to at least check it out. For all we know it could be another Shatterbird and hit the whole city at once. Better to know what's coming. We'll hide in a wall of darkness with just enough cleared to see and hear what's going on. If it looks dangerous, Skitter can swarm him or Regent can trip him and we can run. Tattletale, I need you to figure out what he can do."
I nod, and notice Skitter doing the same. Bitch crosses her arms and seems about ready to object, before she looks at Grue again and stops.
Regent shrugs. "I've got nothing better to do."
We move towards the Docks, a wall of Grue's darkness surrounding us except for small holes at around eye level. As we get closer Skitter raises an arm and points, and we all back up towards a shady wall as we move into sight.
The guy is still standing exactly where Skitter says he would be. In the dim light I can't really make out what he looks like. He's as tall as or taller than Grue, has short hair, and a fairly average build. His clothes are filthy, and his right hand and side are covered in what looks like blood. It appears he still hasn't moved. Suddenly he raises his head and I can see everyone around me tense, wondering if we've been spotted.
That's when he starts laughing.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
He's holding his sides and almost bent over completely, and he's not skimping on the volume either. I can see Skitter wince as whatever bugs she's got around him must be picking this up on multiple frequencies. He pauses for a second to catch his breath.
"Well, I never asked for this."
He pauses and seems to chuckle slightly as if he just told a joke.
"But alright, I'll give it a shot."
He turns and looks at the sky for a moment.
I take a deep breath and let my power go…
Man is happy. Man is lost in thought. Man is conversing with himself? Power based? No, just how he is. Thinks out loud. Thinker power? No. Yes. Minor secondary power. Man is lost in thought. Man is looking at the sky. Man is thinking about something to do with the sky. Man is looking at stars. Man is looking at Space. Man is imagining going to space. Man is Imagining building something in space. Man's left hand is twitching. Sign of Tinker wanting to write down an imagined schematic. Man is a Tinker.
"Ow!" I close the floodgates, now with the slight feeling of nails in my forehead. But damn, Brian is going to start to drool.
I open my mouth to tell the group and then I pause.
Coil.
I'm going to have to tell Coil.
I frown and move a hand to my head to massage my temples, buying myself a moment to think. This is big. A new Tinker in town can seriously change the balance of power if they are anywhere near useful. I mean sure, this guy could be a Squealer and barely make a difference, but look at what Bakuda has done for the ABB in the last few weeks.
Look at what she nearly managed to do to us.
And Coil has been looking for a tinker to add to his organization for a while. If this guy is any good - and he clearly hasn't had a chance to build anything yet, so not only do we not know anything, he's incredibly vulnerable - Coil's going to try the same thing on him that he did to me.
And that'd just make it even harder eventually to take him down. Maybe impossible.
I turn to the group. Can I trust them with this? Would they sell out a new Tinker to 'the Boss' if he asked them to?
I don't think Taylor would.
The rest…
... But maybe, if we recruit him…
My head is still hurting but I open the gates again.
Coil desires Tinker support. Coil will give us additional money to fund a tinker. Coil may ask for some things to be built. Coil will want to meet the tinker. Tinker may get to meet Coil in person. Tinker in our group would still be under Coil's command. Coil may be satisfied with Tinker in our group, so long as we toe the line. Tinker may get Coil to finally meet us face to face. Taylor will…
"Ah.." I pushed too hard. I close my eyes and place both hands on my face to block out the light. My head is pulsing with sharp, stabbing pain. I take a deep breath and calm myself for a second, and it settles into a mere dull ache. I'm going to regret this tomorrow. Fuck, and they're going to expect us to make good on the deal with the ABB. Damn.
I feel a hand on my shoulder and open my eyes to see Skitter and Grue standing right next to me. Taylor is leaning forward and seems concerned. Grue was reaching for my other shoulder, but stops when he sees me moving. "What happened?"
I look up at him and my face takes on its customary grin and I lean in to whisper: "Well, on the negative side, my head feels like Lung played golf with it. On the positive side, you're looking at a brand new fresh-out-of-the-box Tinker with it seems like no affiliations right there, fresh for the taking."
Grue's head turns so fast it's like he has whiplash. I can see the excitement in his body even without my power on, he's balancing forward on the edge of his feet. Even Regent starts and starts paying attention, looking out his peephole. "Cool. Maybe I can get an upgrade for this thing, finally." he says, spinning his scepter.
The guy in the street starts talking to himself again. It's pretty quiet, and I can't really make it out. I turn to Skitter. "He said 'Someday soon.' Any idea what that's about?"
I wince. "Not really worth wasting a worse headache on right now. Grue, nothing my power says indicates he's dangerous right now. He's had his powers for minutes, he can't have built anything yet. He could have a secondary Thinker power, my power seems to be unsure, but then again some Thinkers can jam each other, so that's kind of a wash. Could be related to his Tinker power. If you want me to get any more I'm going to have to actually talk to him."
Grue nods. He's really excited about this. The guy doesn't look like he's in great shape, and worst case scenario I think any one of us could take him if he hasn't had a chance to build anything.
The darkness drops and I take a breath and put my patented smirk back on. I let just a trickle of my power through, and step forwards. He started laughing again, though a lot quieter now. I can see his face in profile. He's not bad-looking, maybe early 20s? He's smiling softly.
I call out. "So, are you going to share the joke with the rest of the class?"
He tenses. I can see it happen, his face straightens out almost instantly. My smile flickers as he turns to face us.
He pauses for a second.
Recognizes group. Knows who we are. Didn't expect to meet us so soon.
So soon? He was planning to seek us out?
He smiles again. This time his grin looks familiar. It takes me a second to place it, and when I do, mine goes slightly brittle.
It's the one I see in the mirror.
"The Undersiders, I presume?"
Recognizes group. Knows who we are. Knows who I am. Knows about me. Knows how I act. Is specifically trolling me. Knows my power. Knows I'm reading him. Body has relaxed. Body is subconsciously relaxed. Thinker power? Thinker power has to do with biology. Thinker power lets him understand biology. Thinker power gives him minor control his own biology. Eliminates microexpressions. Makes cold reading more difficult. Makes reading him with powers more difficult. Still smiling.
My head twinges. I ignore it and keep pushing. Go back to how he knows me…
"Tattletale?" "Tattletale?" "Woah. Are you alright?" Grue, Skitter, and the guy all talk at once as I sway on my feet and my vision blurs slightly. I stumble a bit before someone grabs my shoulder and I half collapse against them. "Ugh. Grue you do the talking, my head…"
I hear Grue chuckle.
I don't feel Grue chuckle.
I look up, already expecting but dreading what's about to happen.
It's not Grue who caught me.
"Are you alright? You pushed too hard, didn't you?" The guy is looking down at me, and he actually seems concerned, though there is also a twitch at the corner of his mouth as if he's realized what this looks like, is surprised to be in this situation, but is still barely stopping himself from laughing at it.
"You should probably sit down."
I pull back as if he's on fire, lose my balance, and end up sitting on the ground. I hear a snort behind me. It's definitely…
"Well, throwing yourself at the new guy? That's one way to recruit him I suppose, but you're normally much more subtle and controlled than that Tats. What gives?" Regent says, barely managing to finish before he starts laughing.
I hear a giggle which is barely cut off and turn to glare at Taylor.
Oh, there will be a reckoning. Just wait. The next time I catch you staring at Brian's ass…
"Holy shit! I don't believe it! She's actually blushing! This is priceless!" Regent is holding his own sides now as I turn back around quickly and push myself to my feet. I turn to glare at the Tinker, who is holding both his hands up as if to ward me off, but whose mouth is twitching as he barely fights the urge to laugh.
"Hey now, you kinda ran into me there. I wasn't just going to drop you. Don't go all Tsun-Tsun on me here, that'd be just way too cliche."
My eye twitches. This guy may be the most infuriating person I've met since the last time I saw Faultline…
Thirty minutes ago.
Alright bad example. Brain hurt, not good at wit now.
I glare at him one last time and go back to the group, moving behind Grue to kick Regent in the leg.
"Ow! Sonofabitch, that's the same spot as before!" He starts hopping up and down on his other foot, shaking the one I kicked.
Grue turns, shakes his head and turns back to the new guy.
"So, now that we've gotten the comedy routine over with. Who are you?"
The man lowers his hands and turns to Grue.
"You can call me Jack. No relation to the other one."
My power twitches on as I lose control for a second.
Was referring to Jack Slash. Thinks he's going to meet Jack Slash.
Is planning to kill Jack Slash. Thinks he can pull it off.
My mouth drops open as I get a handle on my power again. I squeeze my eyes shut and groan.
"What the fuck?! Who are you!"
He turns to look at me. "That… is a long story. Look, this is probably not a conversation to have here, and I'm juuust a bit lost. Can we just go back to your lair or base or whatever? Pinky swear not to tell anyone where it is."
Grue turns to us to gauge our reactions. Regent shrugs. Skitter seems conflicted, she keeps looking between Jack and Bitch.
Bitch… Shit. Bitch is gritting her teeth so hard I can hear it from ten feet away. I can see them too. That's not good. Her fists are clenched and she is leaning forward as if she wants to pounce.
"Fuck no! Who even is this fuck?"
Jack turns to her and takes a step forward. He's actually pretty tall up close, taller than she is for sure. He speaks in a monotone voice, his mouth not showing any teeth, and he makes direct eye contact.
"I'm Jack. I said that already. I'm not going to fuck with you, or with anyone else here, but I have nowhere else to go, and it isn't safe here."
Bitch stops growling for a moment and looks at Jack. She takes a step forward and he takes a step back, curling his head down slightly and lowering his eyes.
Fucking thanks brain, could not have figured that one out myself. Where were you when I was falling on my ass?
Bitch grunts and turns away. "Well, whatever. If you want to stay you'd better pull your weight."
The rest of the group is staring directly at Jack. Taylor actually speaks for the first time. She says what we're all thinking.
"Ok. What."
Jack smiles slightly at Skitter's exclamation (seriously, what?) turns back to us and shrugs. "Like I said. Long story. Can we go now?"
Grue looks between Bitch, Skitter, and Jack and sighs. "The shit I put up with."
He raises his hand and his darkness surrounds us. Jack jumps slightly until he realizes he's on the inside with us.
"Huh. That's really cool." He pokes the hemisphere of darkness and moves his finger through it before pulling it back. "Strange, but cool."
Grue turns and starts walking away.
We all follow.
This is basically unedited, so please point out any typos.
Don't expect this kind of update speed in the future, I have no idea how this happened. The whole situation kind of went someone I didn't plan at all, just kind of naturally expanded there. Tattletale's power is really hard to write for, but I think I've got a handle on it after reading her PoV chapter again in Canon and some other background stuff.
Edit: Let the dogs out. Then gave them names.
1.T - Tattletale Interlude
It had been a relatively quiet walk on the way back to the loft. Except for Taylor leaning in to commiserate with Bitch - and that was a relationship even I couldn't really make heads or tails of - everyone remained relatively quiet.
I didn't like it.
Bitch had fucked up. Before she tried to take out an E88 run establishment she should have fucking told us. I get her thing with dogs, and it's pretty clear that what Hookwolf was doing wasn't going to fly, but fuck we almost got ganked by Kaizer in a small room.We're lucky it came out at Somer's Rock. If it wasn't on neutral territory, we could all be breathing through several new holes now.
We'd made an enemy we didn't need to make at this point, and Bitch just wasn't understanding what went wrong. But this was affecting the normal atmosphere of the group. Despite our very different pasts, we had worked well together. We took down most of the Wards at the Bank, and time spent at the lair was always filled with jibes and teasing. I liked it. It was nice being part of a group which actually trusted each other for once.
It felt a bit colder now. Isolated. I hate being isolated. I can tell Taylor does too, though that thing she does with the swarm seems to let her get around it. I don't know if she's even realized she's doing it yet, offloading feelings to the bugs around her.
I suppose she's lucky she didn't end up like Bitch. Imagine only being able to understand inse-
Discontinuity.
I groaned and shook my head as I woke up. I took a quick look around and saw the rest of the team around me on the ground, right where they had been last I checked. As I watched, Grue hauled himself up and shook his head. Regent raised an arm and pointed it at the sky.
"I'm going to call foul on that. Normally, I've had a lot more to drink before that happens." he claims, as he drops his arm back down and rolls to his knees. "Ow. Think I hit my head on the way down."
"At least nothing important was damaged then." I quip.
He responds with a very unkind gesture. I roll my eyes.
Taylor and Bitch seem to have fallen almost on top of each other, and have managed to untangle themselves at this point, though not without a bit of cursing on the larger girl's part. Taylor takes a few steps back afterwards and looks towards me.
"What was that? Why did we all suddenly collapse?"
Grue turns and tilts his head slightly. "Tattletale?"
I open the gates just a bit.
Unconsciousness triggered in response to something. Unconsciousness lasted a short period.
Helicopter overhead, still flying. Hasn't fallen and isn't recovering from a dive. Pilot unaffected.
Most people unaffected. Only we were affected. Effect only targeted parahumans. Effect was limited to a certain range.
Effect was caused by new trigger.
My eyes widen in surprise. "Holy shit. I think someone just triggered right next door to us."
The group's reaction to this varied. Grue and Skitter both seemed to tense, and I could see Skitter's hair moving as some insects began to fly out and away, probably to join a search already in progress in the nearby area. Grue's darkness began to smoke out of his helmet and gloves and he turned his head slightly as if surveying our immediate surroundings.
Regent seemed unconcerned. He just kept rubbing the back of his head and complaining. Bitch was growling and looking around, clearly wishing she had brought the dogs with her. If this turned into a fight, she was going to be almost useless, and she knew it.
"I think I found him." Skitter said. "There's only one guy awake and out on the street within a couple of blocks. He's standing on the overlook behind some of the warehouses, just staring at the Protectorate HQ. He hasn't moved since we woke up. If he's got powers though he doesn't seem to be using them. It's nothing obvious anyways."
I turn to Grue.
"So, what's the play oh fearless leader?"
He pauses for a moment. I take a closer look.
Worried. Knows new triggers are dangerous. Knows that there is serious risk to confronting a newly triggered cape. Is remembering Rachel's history. Remembers that she killed someone when she triggered. Remembers her actions now and two weeks ago. Is starting to see Rachel as a potential liability. Is wondering if the new cape could be recruited. Is wondering if the new cape could replace Rachel as a heavy-hitter. Is…
Grue turns towards the location Skitter indicated. "We need to at least check it out. For all we know it could be another Shatterbird and hit the whole city at once. Better to know what's coming. We'll hide in a wall of darkness with just enough cleared to see and hear what's going on. If it looks dangerous, Skitter can swarm him or Regent can trip him and we can run. Tattletale, I need you to figure out what he can do."
I nod, and notice Skitter doing the same. Bitch crosses her arms and seems about ready to object, before she looks at Grue again and stops.
Regent shrugs. "I've got nothing better to do."
We move towards the Docks, a wall of Grue's darkness surrounding us except for small holes at around eye level. As we get closer Skitter raises an arm and points, and we all back up towards a shady wall as we move into sight.
The guy is still standing exactly where Skitter says he would be. In the dim light I can't really make out what he looks like. He's as tall as or taller than Grue, has short hair, and a fairly average build. His clothes are filthy, and his right hand and side are covered in what looks like blood. It appears he still hasn't moved. Suddenly he raises his head and I can see everyone around me tense, wondering if we've been spotted.
That's when he starts laughing.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
He's holding his sides and almost bent over completely, and he's not skimping on the volume either. I can see Skitter wince as whatever bugs she's got around him must be picking this up on multiple frequencies. He pauses for a second to catch his breath.
"Well, I never asked for this."
He pauses and seems to chuckle slightly as if he just told a joke.
"But alright, I'll give it a shot."
He turns and looks at the sky for a moment.
I take a deep breath and let my power go…
Man is happy. Man is lost in thought. Man is conversing with himself? Power based? No, just how he is. Thinks out loud. Thinker power? No. Yes. Minor secondary power. Man is lost in thought. Man is looking at the sky. Man is thinking about something to do with the sky. Man is looking at stars. Man is looking at Space. Man is imagining going to space. Man is Imagining building something in space. Man's left hand is twitching. Sign of Tinker wanting to write down an imagined schematic. Man is a Tinker.
I open my mouth to tell the group and then I pause.
Coil.
I'm going to have to tell Coil.
I frown and move a hand to my head to massage my temples, buying myself a moment to think. This is big. A new Tinker in town can seriously change the balance of power if they are anywhere near useful. I mean sure, this guy could be a Squealer and barely make a difference, but look at what Bakuda has done for the ABB in the last few weeks.
Look at what she nearly managed to do to us.
And Coil has been looking for a tinker to add to his organization for a while. If this guy is any good - and he clearly hasn't had a chance to build anything yet, so not only do we not know anything, he's incredibly vulnerable - Coil's going to try the same thing on him that he did to me.
And that'd just make it even harder eventually to take him down. Maybe impossible.
I turn to the group. Can I trust them with this? Would they sell out a new Tinker to 'the Boss' if he asked them to?
I don't think Taylor would.
The rest…
... But maybe, if we recruit him…
My head is still hurting but I open the gates again.
Coil desires Tinker support. Coil will give us additional money to fund a tinker. Coil may ask for some things to be built. Coil will want to meet the tinker. Tinker may get to meet Coil in person. Tinker in our group would still be under Coil's command. Coil may be satisfied with Tinker in our group, so long as we toe the line. Tinker may get Coil to finally meet us face to face. Taylor will…
I feel a hand on my shoulder and open my eyes to see Skitter and Grue standing right next to me. Taylor is leaning forward and seems concerned. Grue was reaching for my other shoulder, but stops when he sees me moving. "What happened?"
I look up at him and my face takes on its customary grin and I lean in to whisper: "Well, on the negative side, my head feels like Lung played golf with it. On the positive side, you're looking at a brand new fresh-out-of-the-box Tinker with it seems like no affiliations right there, fresh for the taking."
Grue's head turns so fast it's like he has whiplash. I can see the excitement in his body even without my power on, he's balancing forward on the edge of his feet. Even Regent starts and starts paying attention, looking out his peephole. "Cool. Maybe I can get an upgrade for this thing, finally." he says, spinning his scepter.
The guy in the street starts talking to himself again. It's pretty quiet, and I can't really make it out. I turn to Skitter. "He said 'Someday soon.' Any idea what that's about?"
I wince. "Not really worth wasting a worse headache on right now. Grue, nothing my power says indicates he's dangerous right now. He's had his powers for minutes, he can't have built anything yet. He could have a secondary Thinker power, my power seems to be unsure, but then again some Thinkers can jam each other, so that's kind of a wash. Could be related to his Tinker power. If you want me to get any more I'm going to have to actually talk to him."
Grue nods. He's really excited about this. The guy doesn't look like he's in great shape, and worst case scenario I think any one of us could take him if he hasn't had a chance to build anything.
The darkness drops and I take a breath and put my patented smirk back on. I let just a trickle of my power through, and step forwards. He started laughing again, though a lot quieter now. I can see his face in profile. He's not bad-looking, maybe early 20s? He's smiling softly.
I call out. "So, are you going to share the joke with the rest of the class?"
He tenses. I can see it happen, his face straightens out almost instantly. My smile flickers as he turns to face us.
He pauses for a second.
Recognizes group. Knows who we are. Didn't expect to meet us so soon.
He smiles again. This time his grin looks familiar. It takes me a second to place it, and when I do, mine goes slightly brittle.
It's the one I see in the mirror.
"The Undersiders, I presume?"
Recognizes group. Knows who we are. Knows who I am. Knows about me. Knows how I act. Is specifically trolling me. Knows my power. Knows I'm reading him. Body has relaxed. Body is subconsciously relaxed. Thinker power? Thinker power has to do with biology. Thinker power lets him understand biology. Thinker power gives him minor control his own biology. Eliminates microexpressions. Makes cold reading more difficult. Makes reading him with powers more difficult. Still smiling.
Wasn't sent by my parents. Doesn't know my parents. Knows of my parents. Thinks my parents are assholes. Knows about Reggie. Knows about Taylor. Knows about Coil.
Knows how Coil's power works.
"Son of a bitch!" I slam the gate and my own eyes shut as the nails behind them drive out through the back of my head. I can barely stand up at this point. Knows how Coil's power works.
"Tattletale?" "Tattletale?" "Woah. Are you alright?" Grue, Skitter, and the guy all talk at once as I sway on my feet and my vision blurs slightly. I stumble a bit before someone grabs my shoulder and I half collapse against them. "Ugh. Grue you do the talking, my head…"
I hear Grue chuckle.
I don't feel Grue chuckle.
I look up, already expecting but dreading what's about to happen.
It's not Grue who caught me.
"Are you alright? You pushed too hard, didn't you?" The guy is looking down at me, and he actually seems concerned, though there is also a twitch at the corner of his mouth as if he's realized what this looks like, is surprised to be in this situation, but is still barely stopping himself from laughing at it.
"You should probably sit down."
I pull back as if he's on fire, lose my balance, and end up sitting on the ground. I hear a snort behind me. It's definitely…
"Well, throwing yourself at the new guy? That's one way to recruit him I suppose, but you're normally much more subtle and controlled than that Tats. What gives?" Regent says, barely managing to finish before he starts laughing.
I hear a giggle which is barely cut off and turn to glare at Taylor.
Oh, there will be a reckoning. Just wait. The next time I catch you staring at Brian's ass…
"Holy shit! I don't believe it! She's actually blushing! This is priceless!" Regent is holding his own sides now as I turn back around quickly and push myself to my feet. I turn to glare at the Tinker, who is holding both his hands up as if to ward me off, but whose mouth is twitching as he barely fights the urge to laugh.
"Hey now, you kinda ran into me there. I wasn't just going to drop you. Don't go all Tsun-Tsun on me here, that'd be just way too cliche."
My eye twitches. This guy may be the most infuriating person I've met since the last time I saw Faultline…
Thirty minutes ago.
Alright bad example. Brain hurt, not good at wit now.
I glare at him one last time and go back to the group, moving behind Grue to kick Regent in the leg.
"Ow! Sonofabitch, that's the same spot as before!" He starts hopping up and down on his other foot, shaking the one I kicked.
Grue turns, shakes his head and turns back to the new guy.
"So, now that we've gotten the comedy routine over with. Who are you?"
The man lowers his hands and turns to Grue.
"You can call me Jack. No relation to the other one."
My power twitches on as I lose control for a second.
Was referring to Jack Slash. Thinks he's going to meet Jack Slash.
Is planning to kill Jack Slash. Thinks he can pull it off.
"What the fuck?! Who are you!"
He turns to look at me. "That… is a long story. Look, this is probably not a conversation to have here, and I'm juuust a bit lost. Can we just go back to your lair or base or whatever? Pinky swear not to tell anyone where it is."
Grue turns to us to gauge our reactions. Regent shrugs. Skitter seems conflicted, she keeps looking between Jack and Bitch.
Bitch… Shit. Bitch is gritting her teeth so hard I can hear it from ten feet away. I can see them too. That's not good. Her fists are clenched and she is leaning forward as if she wants to pounce.
"Fuck no! Who even is this fuck?"
Jack turns to her and takes a step forward. He's actually pretty tall up close, taller than she is for sure. He speaks in a monotone voice, his mouth not showing any teeth, and he makes direct eye contact.
Modifying body language. Speaking directly to Bitch's instincts. Knows how Bitch's mind works. Understands how her psychology has changed. Is trying to speak to Bitch in a way she will understand. Wants to seem nonthreatening, but to avoid getting attacked. Knows Skitter was attacked when she first met Bitch. Knows...
My head twinges again and I shut down my power hard. Fucking Ow.
"I'm Jack. I said that already. I'm not going to fuck with you, or with anyone else here, but I have nowhere else to go, and it isn't safe here."
Bitch stops growling for a moment and looks at Jack. She takes a step forward and he takes a step back, curling his head down slightly and lowering his eyes.
Feigning submissiveness.
Fucking thanks brain, could not have figured that one out myself. Where were you when I was falling on my ass?
Bitch grunts and turns away. "Well, whatever. If you want to stay you'd better pull your weight."
The rest of the group is staring directly at Jack. Taylor actually speaks for the first time. She says what we're all thinking.
"Ok. What."
Jack smiles slightly at Skitter's exclamation (seriously, what?) turns back to us and shrugs. "Like I said. Long story. Can we go now?"
Grue looks between Bitch, Skitter, and Jack and sighs. "The shit I put up with."
He raises his hand and his darkness surrounds us. Jack jumps slightly until he realizes he's on the inside with us.
"Huh. That's really cool." He pokes the hemisphere of darkness and moves his finger through it before pulling it back. "Strange, but cool."
Grue turns and starts walking away.
We all follow.
Last edited:
1.2 - Disclosure
- Location
- Canada
Suddenly: CONTENT!
Again, this is unedited. Please let me know if I dun goofed.
Edit: Fixed the smell.
1.2 - Disclosure
Although I've lost most of my tension by the time we arrive at the Undersiders' lair, the only reason I'm not shaking is this new control I seem to have over my own body. Although we're supposedly safe in this bubble of blackness, I know that this city is pretty much the dictionary definition of not safe, and all the people I can see could probably kill me before I could do anything to stop them. I don't think they would, however.
The other thing is, seeing them also let me know something else. The sense I have for my own body isn't unique to me. I don't know what happened, but I seem to have a kind of 'bio-radar' for humans now. It's hard to explain, because it isn't really a visual sense, but it is sort of like 'seeing' how a person's body functions, and identifying inefficiencies or things which may be functioning incorrectly. When I looked at Taylor, I could tell she had eye problems (astigmatism) as well as some of the more recent bruises and scrapes which must have been the result of cape or bullied life. This of course immediately triggered my Tinker power, which gave me schematics for cybernetic eyes, genetic retroviruses, artificial lenses, and something that looked like Geordi Laforge's visor. I cleared them out almost automatically - is it weird that I'm getting used to this?
That's only on the surface though. There's a sort of mental knob, and if I turn it, I can zoom in. I can go beyond just overall issues and start identifying patterns. It's gotta be connected to some serious Shard-level extrapolation engine, because I can see patterns and map them forward. I can tell that Regent eats a lot of sugar, and if he continues at his current rate, he's about 29 years from the onset of type 2 diabetes. I can tell that Grue carries a recessive gene that, if matched with another carrier, has a 25% chance to lead to a child with cystic fibrosis. I can tell that excessive use of Tattletale's power causes migranes by stressing the blood vessels which feed the brain, and that pushing through could lead to a stroke or aneurysm. I can almost predict to the second how much continued use would lead to that outcome.
I can tell Rachel is damaged. I can get a general idea as to how, but if I didn't know, I wouldn't be able to guess 'dog instincts'.
It's not quite as useful as I'd hoped. I can't cold read people like Tattletale can, and I can't watch flashes of neurons and know what a person is thinking about (unless something is wrong, such as Regent's completely fucked fear/pain/threat response. Holy shit Heartbreaker did a number on the kid. His amygdala is fucked.) and I can't really judge emotions directly in the way Gallant can, though I can tell from certain chemical signals if someone is angry, afraid, aroused, alarmed or any of the other a-words which cause you to dump a load of adrenaline into your bloodstream.
It's a sort of diagnostic-vision. If I was in a video game, it'd be like I could see their Status screen. It seems to be much more effective on myself - if others are a status screen, I've got the source code of my own body. Somehow that lets me control my normally unconscious motions consciously as well. How?
It's shard-magic. I dunno.
I didn't really know if that dominance challenge and submission display would work, but going both from my metaknowledge and how Bitch seemed to calm down once I started, I had a feeling I was on the right track.
And I didn't get punched in the face, so I'm calling that one a win.
Eventually we wander deep into the Docks and come upon the Undersiders' lair. It doesn't look like much from the outside: some 1960s era factory which hasn't been used since, with a rusty metal door and red brick or faux-brick siding. Huge though, must take up half the block. Three stories easy. A mostly faded sign on the side read "Redmond Welding", and my eyes lit up with glee. Glory of glories! Equipment!
My excitement was cut brutally short when Grue led us through a door in the south side of the building. There was barely any light, except for the light pollution of the city and moonlight leaking through windows near the ceiling, but my careful eye could pick out the wreckage of various machines and conveyors, stripped down to their most basic parts from what I could see. I'd have to do an inventory later, but my hopes of a fully equipped ready-made lab were dashed.
Ah well. I'd have to improvise. I had an idea, but I would need an internet connection. I could put those well-earned research skills to good use.
Grue led us up a spiral staircase in the corner of the room. The loft thus revealed was much cleaner than the factory floor. It had three levels - what must have been bedrooms, a living room with several couches and an entertainment system I had to hold myself back from rushing towards, and a vague impression across the darkness of a kitchen.
Grue moved over to the couches and sat down. Tattletale and Skitter followed, the former still rubbing her temples. Regent sauntered towards the television and entertainment system, and sat down with a controller. Bitch walked right past us, towards a room in the back where I could hear something scratching at a door. Must be her dogs.
Well, here's hoping I'm not dinner.
I sit down on a couch across from Grue, Tattletale, and Skitter.
"So." Grue intones. I don't know if it's the mask or some aspect of his power that's adding the slight echo to his voice, but it's actually a little intimidating. "Who are you really, and what do you want?"
Tattletale and Skitter turn to look at me as well. Tattletale's mouth is slightly frowning which is uncharacteristic, and Skitter is almost unnaturally still. Part of that is probably that I can't see her face, but regardless, it's creepy.
Well, here goes nothing.
"As mentioned, my name is Jack. You probably can already tell from whatever led you to me - I'm guessing a sudden case of unconsciousness - but I just triggered tonight."
I take a deep breath.
"What you might not know is that I'm not from around here. I have no idea how I got to Brockton Bay. In fact, my last memory was being on a plane to Toronto."
Grue tilts his head, I assume as a sign of confusion or an acknowledgement - body language with full face masks is weird. "So you claim you can't remember anything. Well, some Masters or Strangers can erase memories, and a bunch of capes can teleport or effectively teleport, though I don't know much about Canadian capes outside of the Guild, and they are not exactly in the kidnapping game…"
Tattletale speaks up. "You're leaving something out."
I wince slightly.
"Yes. What I didn't mention is that before I woke up here, I had been heading to Toronto after a brief stop off in Newfoundland."
The room is silent for a moment. Rachel walks by with the dogs, looks at the rest of us, and turns to walk out the door after sending a glare at me. I make sure to back away and scrunch myself down slightly and she nods as she turns to leave.
I guess it's walkies time?
"Bullshit." Grue finally says. "You've actually lost that long? Years? Wait, if you did, how would you know about…"
"It's not that, Grue." Tattletale says, closing her eyes tightly for a moment before grimacing, then smiling slightly as if in triumph. "He's not just from before Leviathan, where he's from Leviathan doesn't exist." She looks up and smirks at me. "You're from Earth Aleph aren't you? Or, no…" Her smile widens. "A completely different Earth! One we've never had contact with before!"
I nod. "Yup. No capes, no Scion, no big apocalypse gribblies. Let's call it Earth Prime for ease of reference."
This is the moment of truth.
"And I seem to have gotten some information about Earth Bet, somehow. I really can't tell you how it happened, but I know about this city, the big players, Scion, the Endbringers, all the stuff someone who grew up in this world would know. It's possible I'm just memories added to the body of my dimensional counterpart on this world, I don't know. I've seen that kind of thing happen in fiction before but…" I shrug.
As I say this, I take control of my body-language. I firm up my facial cues, and specifically give a split second look towards Tattletale. I twitch my fingers slightly, each time performing the start of a motion which, if I finished, might form a letter. Tattletale's super intuition should be able to pick out the message I'm sending. Not safe. Will tell you alone later. Coil must not know.
It looks like it worked. I can see her body dumping adrenaline when she figures it out. She sits up slightly and hisses a breath before realizing that Grue turned to look at her, at which point she holds her head and groans. "Tattletale?" Grue asks.
She looks up, still wincing slightly. "Sorry, he's really hard to read, and I've used my power too much today. But he's not lying that I can tell."
There's a pause, where I let out the breath I was holding, and Grue turns to me.
"Alright, well, you're new here and not established in with any of the major players. You say you've got some information on how this world works, and that's good. Frankly, I don't really care about your background. What I do care about is the possibility of tinker assistance. We've got a job to do in the next few days, taking down the ABB. We could really use some high-tech help, especially with that bitch Bakuda out there prepping and waiting for round 2."
Skitter twitches at the mention of the name. Then seems to collect herself, as she interrupts Brian's pitch. "What can you do anyways? How did you spoof Tattletale and avoid getting tackled by Bitch?"
I grin. "Answer to both? I've got a thinker power. From what I can tell, it gives me control over my own body language, and gives me a read on the biology of other people. It seems to only work on people I can see, but it's a pretty good edge. From what I can tell, Tattletale reads people from microexpressions and other unconscious tells that your body gives off when you lie or think about certain things. I have conscious control over those parts of myself, so it's harder for her to get a read on me unless I'm surprised or distracted."
Tattletale nods. "He's about right. Some things are obvious, or from his environment, like the fact he's apparently taken a bath in garbage tonight, and those are easy to get. But reading his impressions or emotions is a lot harder."
I feign offense. "Well, I'm sorry. I'll have you know that in Canada we have much nicer garbage. It's hidden under all the snow, you know, and the only smell is that of pine sap and maple syrup, as is proper. Your American trash is much worse. Back me up here Regent."
Regent flinches for a moment, though I don't think anyone except Tattletale and I noticed, and I almost slap myself as my heart drops into my stomach. Fuck. They don't actually know that he's Heartbreaker's kid at this point in time. Fuck. I'm screwed.
Regent quickly recovers however with characteristic aplomb. He raises a single middle finger at me and turns back to his game. "I don't even like maple syrup on pancakes. Sorry beaver-boy, you're on your own here."
Grue and Skitter chuckle, and I join in after sharing a look with Tattletale. I don't need superpowers to know that she's threatening serious bodily harm if I don't explain what's going on.
Alright. Time to change the subject.
"Anyways, you were making a pitch? I assume you want me to join? My first request is going to be a shower, for obvious reasons."
This gets a slight laugh out of everyone again, and I relax just a bit.
Grue starts up again. "Basically? Yes. I can only assume the Boss will front some serious cash for the benefits a Tinker can bring. We can't promise you as much as the Protectorate or one of the big gangs would, but we can promise you a lot more freedom than they will allow you. You'd be expected to go on jobs whenever we have them, and we should be able to get some cash for you if you help us with the ABB problems, assuming you can get something together by tomorrow. As a part of the group, you'd get a minimum of 2k a month just for being here, and I'm sure we can work something out to give you time to tinker."
I pause as if considering. "Well, I'd like to have a chance to search the bottom floor of this place. It's pretty looted, but there might be a few things I can use lying around. I'd probably convert some of that area into a workshop, if you're alright with that." Grue nodded so fast I'm surprised he didn't get whiplash. "Other than that, it seems like a good deal. I don't know anybody around here personally, and I'm sure that the Merchants or E88 wouldn't give me as nice a welcome, or as much of a choice as you guys did."
"I do have one other condition however."
Grue leans forward.
"I need to borrow a computer, then I need to borrow Tattletale for the rest of the night."
Grue nearly falls off the couch, Skitter's head whips sideways to look at me, and Tattletale groans and covers her face as she realizes what's about to happen. Regent drops his controller and starts laughing, at first slowly and then just barely choking words out through the tears. "He… he wants to take her on a date! Hahaha! You work fast gearhead!"
Well, time to sell it. I push blood into my cheeks to fake a blush and turn my head slightly.
"I-it's not that. I need her help to find some.. Some stuff I need for tinkering. I wouldn't be able to get it without her. I need the computer to find it."
Rule #1 of effective deception: Always allow your opponent to think he's caught you. He's much easier to fool that way.
Rule #2: If the truth sounds less plausible than the lie the other guy's convinced himself of, say it. It'll just reinforce the idea that he's right.
Not something I learned at law school directly, but when you play Resistance with a bunch of lawyers and law students once a week for a year, you learn to get good at lying or to love losing.
I hate losing.
Tattletale groans again as Skitter starts to giggle slightly. Grue shakes his head, but I get the impression from my body sense that he's barely holding back laughter himself. "Tattletale?"
She puts her head up and glares at me, before ghosting a wink that actually unnerves me more than Grue's apparent willingness to rent out a teammate for tinker support. "Fine. Skitter, I'm borrowing your mace. Just in case."
Regent actually falls off of his couch at this point, and is gasping for air. Skitter hands over the small container, her shoulders still shaking slightly. Tattletale walks off towards her room, I assume to get her computer.
"Wear something nice! Get out the good under-" Regent chokes out before he suddenly starts coughing, as if a fly just flew down his throat. "Ugh! Gross! Damn it Bugs!"
Skitter stands and moves over towards Tattletale's room. "I'm going to go talk to her. Try to keep the jokes tasteful Regent."
I turn to look at Grue, the blush slowly fading from my face.
"So, do I get to see who you guys actually are? You know my name already, and it's not like I know anyone to tell."
Grue pauses and then shrugs. "I suppose it's only fair." He removes his helmet, revealing a young black man, about 18, with shoulder length cornrows and a solid jaw. "Brian. Brian Laborn. The guy falling over himself over there is Alec…" Regent waves as he catches his breath. "Bitch is Rachel, though that's pretty much the worst kept secret in the world."
I nod.
Brian continues. "The girls can decide whether to tell you their names or not themselves. Skitter is pretty new to the group, so I wouldn't want to intrude, and with Tattle, well." He grins. " I'm sure it'll come up over dinner."
I groan and cover my face. "It isn't like.. Y'know what, I give up."
Regent's guffaw is cut off by another slight choking sound. "Goddamn it Bugs! Stop it!"
Well, now I've been thoroughly embarrassed.
Just as planned.
I see Tattletale coming back out without her mask, and with a laptop under her arm. Skitter is right behind her, with her mask held under one arm.
"Alright," Tattletale starts "so this is my laptop. My only laptop. You absolutely cannot disassemble it, no matter how much you think you can upgrade it. Do not go through my files. Y'know what, I'm just going to sit right behind you and watch what you're doing." She pauses for a second and smirks. "I'm Lisa by the way. This is Taylor." Taylor waves, and smiles slightly, but keeps her eyes down. I can't tell if she's shy, embarrassed or both.
Probably both.
I nod and smile. "Sure. That's fine. Well, let's get started then…"
It takes me about 10 minutes to write and execute a short search algorithm. They don't even have Google here! The philistines! I manage to find what I'm looking for, and its monumental digital security lasts about 0.4 seconds against the minor worm I included in the search. I see Lisa narrowing her eyes at me in the screen's reflection, and I assure her that it is otherwise harmless and will self delete after it's downloaded the data and cleared the traces of the hack.
Bitch returns a short while later, has a quiet chat with Grue, and heads back off to her room with her dogs.
A short print job (and a much longer shower) later, and we leave with a few addresses and sets of floor plans, a few phone numbers and a list of security codes.
Lisa is looking at me like I'm a puzzle box that she's considering just taking a sledgehammer to.
Regent starts to yell something about protection before he starts choking on another fly.
…
I'm really going to regret this cover story, aren't I?
Again, this is unedited. Please let me know if I dun goofed.
Edit: Fixed the smell.
1.2 - Disclosure
Although I've lost most of my tension by the time we arrive at the Undersiders' lair, the only reason I'm not shaking is this new control I seem to have over my own body. Although we're supposedly safe in this bubble of blackness, I know that this city is pretty much the dictionary definition of not safe, and all the people I can see could probably kill me before I could do anything to stop them. I don't think they would, however.
The other thing is, seeing them also let me know something else. The sense I have for my own body isn't unique to me. I don't know what happened, but I seem to have a kind of 'bio-radar' for humans now. It's hard to explain, because it isn't really a visual sense, but it is sort of like 'seeing' how a person's body functions, and identifying inefficiencies or things which may be functioning incorrectly. When I looked at Taylor, I could tell she had eye problems (astigmatism) as well as some of the more recent bruises and scrapes which must have been the result of cape or bullied life. This of course immediately triggered my Tinker power, which gave me schematics for cybernetic eyes, genetic retroviruses, artificial lenses, and something that looked like Geordi Laforge's visor. I cleared them out almost automatically - is it weird that I'm getting used to this?
That's only on the surface though. There's a sort of mental knob, and if I turn it, I can zoom in. I can go beyond just overall issues and start identifying patterns. It's gotta be connected to some serious Shard-level extrapolation engine, because I can see patterns and map them forward. I can tell that Regent eats a lot of sugar, and if he continues at his current rate, he's about 29 years from the onset of type 2 diabetes. I can tell that Grue carries a recessive gene that, if matched with another carrier, has a 25% chance to lead to a child with cystic fibrosis. I can tell that excessive use of Tattletale's power causes migranes by stressing the blood vessels which feed the brain, and that pushing through could lead to a stroke or aneurysm. I can almost predict to the second how much continued use would lead to that outcome.
I can tell Rachel is damaged. I can get a general idea as to how, but if I didn't know, I wouldn't be able to guess 'dog instincts'.
It's not quite as useful as I'd hoped. I can't cold read people like Tattletale can, and I can't watch flashes of neurons and know what a person is thinking about (unless something is wrong, such as Regent's completely fucked fear/pain/threat response. Holy shit Heartbreaker did a number on the kid. His amygdala is fucked.) and I can't really judge emotions directly in the way Gallant can, though I can tell from certain chemical signals if someone is angry, afraid, aroused, alarmed or any of the other a-words which cause you to dump a load of adrenaline into your bloodstream.
It's a sort of diagnostic-vision. If I was in a video game, it'd be like I could see their Status screen. It seems to be much more effective on myself - if others are a status screen, I've got the source code of my own body. Somehow that lets me control my normally unconscious motions consciously as well. How?
It's shard-magic. I dunno.
I didn't really know if that dominance challenge and submission display would work, but going both from my metaknowledge and how Bitch seemed to calm down once I started, I had a feeling I was on the right track.
And I didn't get punched in the face, so I'm calling that one a win.
Eventually we wander deep into the Docks and come upon the Undersiders' lair. It doesn't look like much from the outside: some 1960s era factory which hasn't been used since, with a rusty metal door and red brick or faux-brick siding. Huge though, must take up half the block. Three stories easy. A mostly faded sign on the side read "Redmond Welding", and my eyes lit up with glee. Glory of glories! Equipment!
My excitement was cut brutally short when Grue led us through a door in the south side of the building. There was barely any light, except for the light pollution of the city and moonlight leaking through windows near the ceiling, but my careful eye could pick out the wreckage of various machines and conveyors, stripped down to their most basic parts from what I could see. I'd have to do an inventory later, but my hopes of a fully equipped ready-made lab were dashed.
Ah well. I'd have to improvise. I had an idea, but I would need an internet connection. I could put those well-earned research skills to good use.
Grue led us up a spiral staircase in the corner of the room. The loft thus revealed was much cleaner than the factory floor. It had three levels - what must have been bedrooms, a living room with several couches and an entertainment system I had to hold myself back from rushing towards, and a vague impression across the darkness of a kitchen.
Grue moved over to the couches and sat down. Tattletale and Skitter followed, the former still rubbing her temples. Regent sauntered towards the television and entertainment system, and sat down with a controller. Bitch walked right past us, towards a room in the back where I could hear something scratching at a door. Must be her dogs.
Well, here's hoping I'm not dinner.
I sit down on a couch across from Grue, Tattletale, and Skitter.
"So." Grue intones. I don't know if it's the mask or some aspect of his power that's adding the slight echo to his voice, but it's actually a little intimidating. "Who are you really, and what do you want?"
Tattletale and Skitter turn to look at me as well. Tattletale's mouth is slightly frowning which is uncharacteristic, and Skitter is almost unnaturally still. Part of that is probably that I can't see her face, but regardless, it's creepy.
Well, here goes nothing.
"As mentioned, my name is Jack. You probably can already tell from whatever led you to me - I'm guessing a sudden case of unconsciousness - but I just triggered tonight."
I take a deep breath.
"What you might not know is that I'm not from around here. I have no idea how I got to Brockton Bay. In fact, my last memory was being on a plane to Toronto."
Grue tilts his head, I assume as a sign of confusion or an acknowledgement - body language with full face masks is weird. "So you claim you can't remember anything. Well, some Masters or Strangers can erase memories, and a bunch of capes can teleport or effectively teleport, though I don't know much about Canadian capes outside of the Guild, and they are not exactly in the kidnapping game…"
Tattletale speaks up. "You're leaving something out."
I wince slightly.
"Yes. What I didn't mention is that before I woke up here, I had been heading to Toronto after a brief stop off in Newfoundland."
The room is silent for a moment. Rachel walks by with the dogs, looks at the rest of us, and turns to walk out the door after sending a glare at me. I make sure to back away and scrunch myself down slightly and she nods as she turns to leave.
I guess it's walkies time?
"Bullshit." Grue finally says. "You've actually lost that long? Years? Wait, if you did, how would you know about…"
"It's not that, Grue." Tattletale says, closing her eyes tightly for a moment before grimacing, then smiling slightly as if in triumph. "He's not just from before Leviathan, where he's from Leviathan doesn't exist." She looks up and smirks at me. "You're from Earth Aleph aren't you? Or, no…" Her smile widens. "A completely different Earth! One we've never had contact with before!"
I nod. "Yup. No capes, no Scion, no big apocalypse gribblies. Let's call it Earth Prime for ease of reference."
This is the moment of truth.
"And I seem to have gotten some information about Earth Bet, somehow. I really can't tell you how it happened, but I know about this city, the big players, Scion, the Endbringers, all the stuff someone who grew up in this world would know. It's possible I'm just memories added to the body of my dimensional counterpart on this world, I don't know. I've seen that kind of thing happen in fiction before but…" I shrug.
As I say this, I take control of my body-language. I firm up my facial cues, and specifically give a split second look towards Tattletale. I twitch my fingers slightly, each time performing the start of a motion which, if I finished, might form a letter. Tattletale's super intuition should be able to pick out the message I'm sending. Not safe. Will tell you alone later. Coil must not know.
It looks like it worked. I can see her body dumping adrenaline when she figures it out. She sits up slightly and hisses a breath before realizing that Grue turned to look at her, at which point she holds her head and groans. "Tattletale?" Grue asks.
She looks up, still wincing slightly. "Sorry, he's really hard to read, and I've used my power too much today. But he's not lying that I can tell."
There's a pause, where I let out the breath I was holding, and Grue turns to me.
"Alright, well, you're new here and not established in with any of the major players. You say you've got some information on how this world works, and that's good. Frankly, I don't really care about your background. What I do care about is the possibility of tinker assistance. We've got a job to do in the next few days, taking down the ABB. We could really use some high-tech help, especially with that bitch Bakuda out there prepping and waiting for round 2."
Skitter twitches at the mention of the name. Then seems to collect herself, as she interrupts Brian's pitch. "What can you do anyways? How did you spoof Tattletale and avoid getting tackled by Bitch?"
I grin. "Answer to both? I've got a thinker power. From what I can tell, it gives me control over my own body language, and gives me a read on the biology of other people. It seems to only work on people I can see, but it's a pretty good edge. From what I can tell, Tattletale reads people from microexpressions and other unconscious tells that your body gives off when you lie or think about certain things. I have conscious control over those parts of myself, so it's harder for her to get a read on me unless I'm surprised or distracted."
Tattletale nods. "He's about right. Some things are obvious, or from his environment, like the fact he's apparently taken a bath in garbage tonight, and those are easy to get. But reading his impressions or emotions is a lot harder."
I feign offense. "Well, I'm sorry. I'll have you know that in Canada we have much nicer garbage. It's hidden under all the snow, you know, and the only smell is that of pine sap and maple syrup, as is proper. Your American trash is much worse. Back me up here Regent."
Regent flinches for a moment, though I don't think anyone except Tattletale and I noticed, and I almost slap myself as my heart drops into my stomach. Fuck. They don't actually know that he's Heartbreaker's kid at this point in time. Fuck. I'm screwed.
Regent quickly recovers however with characteristic aplomb. He raises a single middle finger at me and turns back to his game. "I don't even like maple syrup on pancakes. Sorry beaver-boy, you're on your own here."
Grue and Skitter chuckle, and I join in after sharing a look with Tattletale. I don't need superpowers to know that she's threatening serious bodily harm if I don't explain what's going on.
Alright. Time to change the subject.
"Anyways, you were making a pitch? I assume you want me to join? My first request is going to be a shower, for obvious reasons."
This gets a slight laugh out of everyone again, and I relax just a bit.
Grue starts up again. "Basically? Yes. I can only assume the Boss will front some serious cash for the benefits a Tinker can bring. We can't promise you as much as the Protectorate or one of the big gangs would, but we can promise you a lot more freedom than they will allow you. You'd be expected to go on jobs whenever we have them, and we should be able to get some cash for you if you help us with the ABB problems, assuming you can get something together by tomorrow. As a part of the group, you'd get a minimum of 2k a month just for being here, and I'm sure we can work something out to give you time to tinker."
I pause as if considering. "Well, I'd like to have a chance to search the bottom floor of this place. It's pretty looted, but there might be a few things I can use lying around. I'd probably convert some of that area into a workshop, if you're alright with that." Grue nodded so fast I'm surprised he didn't get whiplash. "Other than that, it seems like a good deal. I don't know anybody around here personally, and I'm sure that the Merchants or E88 wouldn't give me as nice a welcome, or as much of a choice as you guys did."
"I do have one other condition however."
Grue leans forward.
"I need to borrow a computer, then I need to borrow Tattletale for the rest of the night."
Grue nearly falls off the couch, Skitter's head whips sideways to look at me, and Tattletale groans and covers her face as she realizes what's about to happen. Regent drops his controller and starts laughing, at first slowly and then just barely choking words out through the tears. "He… he wants to take her on a date! Hahaha! You work fast gearhead!"
Well, time to sell it. I push blood into my cheeks to fake a blush and turn my head slightly.
"I-it's not that. I need her help to find some.. Some stuff I need for tinkering. I wouldn't be able to get it without her. I need the computer to find it."
Rule #1 of effective deception: Always allow your opponent to think he's caught you. He's much easier to fool that way.
Rule #2: If the truth sounds less plausible than the lie the other guy's convinced himself of, say it. It'll just reinforce the idea that he's right.
Not something I learned at law school directly, but when you play Resistance with a bunch of lawyers and law students once a week for a year, you learn to get good at lying or to love losing.
I hate losing.
Tattletale groans again as Skitter starts to giggle slightly. Grue shakes his head, but I get the impression from my body sense that he's barely holding back laughter himself. "Tattletale?"
She puts her head up and glares at me, before ghosting a wink that actually unnerves me more than Grue's apparent willingness to rent out a teammate for tinker support. "Fine. Skitter, I'm borrowing your mace. Just in case."
Regent actually falls off of his couch at this point, and is gasping for air. Skitter hands over the small container, her shoulders still shaking slightly. Tattletale walks off towards her room, I assume to get her computer.
"Wear something nice! Get out the good under-" Regent chokes out before he suddenly starts coughing, as if a fly just flew down his throat. "Ugh! Gross! Damn it Bugs!"
Skitter stands and moves over towards Tattletale's room. "I'm going to go talk to her. Try to keep the jokes tasteful Regent."
I turn to look at Grue, the blush slowly fading from my face.
"So, do I get to see who you guys actually are? You know my name already, and it's not like I know anyone to tell."
Grue pauses and then shrugs. "I suppose it's only fair." He removes his helmet, revealing a young black man, about 18, with shoulder length cornrows and a solid jaw. "Brian. Brian Laborn. The guy falling over himself over there is Alec…" Regent waves as he catches his breath. "Bitch is Rachel, though that's pretty much the worst kept secret in the world."
I nod.
Brian continues. "The girls can decide whether to tell you their names or not themselves. Skitter is pretty new to the group, so I wouldn't want to intrude, and with Tattle, well." He grins. " I'm sure it'll come up over dinner."
I groan and cover my face. "It isn't like.. Y'know what, I give up."
Regent's guffaw is cut off by another slight choking sound. "Goddamn it Bugs! Stop it!"
Well, now I've been thoroughly embarrassed.
Just as planned.
I see Tattletale coming back out without her mask, and with a laptop under her arm. Skitter is right behind her, with her mask held under one arm.
"Alright," Tattletale starts "so this is my laptop. My only laptop. You absolutely cannot disassemble it, no matter how much you think you can upgrade it. Do not go through my files. Y'know what, I'm just going to sit right behind you and watch what you're doing." She pauses for a second and smirks. "I'm Lisa by the way. This is Taylor." Taylor waves, and smiles slightly, but keeps her eyes down. I can't tell if she's shy, embarrassed or both.
Probably both.
I nod and smile. "Sure. That's fine. Well, let's get started then…"
It takes me about 10 minutes to write and execute a short search algorithm. They don't even have Google here! The philistines! I manage to find what I'm looking for, and its monumental digital security lasts about 0.4 seconds against the minor worm I included in the search. I see Lisa narrowing her eyes at me in the screen's reflection, and I assure her that it is otherwise harmless and will self delete after it's downloaded the data and cleared the traces of the hack.
Bitch returns a short while later, has a quiet chat with Grue, and heads back off to her room with her dogs.
A short print job (and a much longer shower) later, and we leave with a few addresses and sets of floor plans, a few phone numbers and a list of security codes.
Lisa is looking at me like I'm a puzzle box that she's considering just taking a sledgehammer to.
Regent starts to yell something about protection before he starts choking on another fly.
…
I'm really going to regret this cover story, aren't I?
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1.3 - The One Unbreakable Law
- Location
- Canada
Well, that took significantly longer than I expected.
So for explanation, I'm in the final process of finishing up my law certification, and these last few months have been... well for lack of a better word 'hectic'.
I'm trying to budget my time a bit better for the future, and again while I can't guarantee a regular update schedule, I'll do my best to be better than almost 4 months next time. (Wow it really was that long).
This hasn't been edited, so expect some probable changes when i have time. This is mostly a confirmation that the story is not dead.
1.3- The One Unbreakable Law
The streets are still dark, and just to add some more ominousness to a sketchy Brockton Bay night, the fog has started to roll in. It's only minor for now, but I'm already completely lost. Lisa seems to know the way, either she's got a good memory for streets or she's just querying her power to figure out where we are going.
Me, I'm glancing around trying to get my bearings, and also keeping a firm hand on my adrenal glands. If I see something that looks weird, I'm going to flood my damn system. This place gave me the creeps before I had maybe two meters visibility.
"Alright, that's far enough."
Lis- Tattletale, she's in costume. Tattletale stops. I pause my introspection to look around more closely. We seem to be in an almost empty alleyway with nobody else around, and a lot less garbage than the one in which i made my unexpected debut. Even the buildings which form the walls don't have any windows as high as I can see. In other words, it's a perfect area for secret conversations.
Tattletale turns to me and speaks again. "Right, this is about as private as we're going to get - and if you make the joke you're about to I will break your arm - so it's time to spill."
She stares at me. I choke back the pun which rose unbidden when she started talking, and pause for a moment to think.
"Ok" I start, beginning to pace a bit as I try to figure out what I can and cannot say "First, I know a lot more than I suggested I did before. What I didn't mention is that my plane took off in June, 2016. Aside from apparently jumping dimensions, I've also gone back in time about 5 years."
Tattletale states at me for a second before nodding. "Alright, say I buy that. What does that help? If you're from a different reality, you still shouldn't know anything about our immediate future. Unless you…"
I hold up a hand. "Don't bother, I'll tell you some of it, but I can't really explain fully for reasons I also can't really explain fully."
She begins to frown and I can tell that she's starting to get angry, so I speak a bit louder to interrupt. " I know you're already thinking 'bullshit' to that but it's kind of important. I.. hmm.."
This is going to be complicated. Right now I'm as far below some of the people I'm trying to outmaneuver as a gnat is below an elephant. I can't rely on some kind of extradimensional safety against precogs, which means everyone is already either acting on future knowledge about what I'm going to be doing (which would be really bad) or I die so soon as for it to be irrelevant in the long run. Any attempt to make this information public before then, even one which succeeds accidentally, would trigger at the very least Contessa. Worst case scenario, the Simurgh replaces Leviathan in a few weeks, I get Smurfed, the world ends in an even worse manner and it's all my fault.
Y'know what, fuck everyone who said Tinkers were bullshit: precognitives are mega ultra bullshit! I've gotta figure out some way to… Oh… OH.
Well. Huh.
We're going to save that schematic random tinker database, thanks for the context sensitive search options. Man how does this even work?
Holy crap, I have no idea what I'm doing. Well, It's a good thing I work well under pressure (and let's just turn down all those stress hormones) , I guess I'll just dance as fast as I can. Time to play Xanatos Speed Chess.
Now how do I convince Tattletale I'm not full of shit?
I pause for a second as if to gather my thoughts. "Ok, here's an explanation of how fucked this can get. Y'know the PRT's system for ranking parahuman strength right?"
Tattletale nods, and gets a look on her face as if to question why I think she's an idiot.
I cough, and purposefully turn down my embarrassment. She hacks the PRT for fun. Man I'm out of it.
Moving on.
"Alright, dumb question. Anyways, they have or will have, I'm not sure on the timing, you categorized as a Thinker 8. 8 Is pretty good, and your power is both generally strong and really useful for psychological warfare. Doesn't hurt that you're actually smart about using it" She nods to that and a ghost of a smirk passes her face.
I continue quickly before she can say anything. "But, there are limitations. Part of that is the power itself, that you can get headaches when it's overused or used in the wrong way. Part of that, sorry, but it's true, is in you. Your psychology. You can't help but want to be the smartest person in the room, and you take risks to prove that, like your stunt with Glory Girl and Panacea in the bank - you could have been splattered like a puddle there if that had gone worse. A lot of powers are limited by the people that hold them - imagine a more proactive Lung for example, or worse, an aggressive Glastig Uiane or Nilbog. And a lot of others are even stronger because of who has them: stronger than they would be otherwise. Sometimes personal psychologies are limitations on powers."
She gets a look on her face when I start commenting on her psychology, and judging by her body language it looks like she is also getting really annoyed, probably that I know so much about her power, but she motions for me to keep going.
"Right, so, imagine someone who basically is their power. I mean is perfectly in tune with how the power operates. It has few or no restrictions, it never fails, and it never gives them any trouble or downsides. Sounds good right? Now add on that the power that person has is at minimum, Thinker 12."
Tattletale's jaw drops at that one. "What would that even? Who has a power like that?!"
I shake my head and close my eyes. "I'm not even going to name them. I'm not that stupid. It rarely ever ends well. Look, where I come from this person often is given the joke classification of 'Thinker Run'. Their power is basically 'can't lose' with very few exceptions. That's the kind of bullshit that could come out if I even mention out loud some of the shit I know. Yes, that sounds crazy, but based on how I think you work, I suspect your power has told you some things about me that also sound crazy."
She sighs and looks up at me, scowling, her eyes unreadable behind that silly little domino mask. Seriously, why do people even use those here? And spandex? Come on, you are already the squishiest member of your group, with the possible exception of Regent. Get some real armor! I could make a thin layer of plating that could go beneath your skin and allow you to interface with a set of heavy power armor Space Marine Black Carapace style and….
I shake my head for a moment. Right, Tinker fugue. Keep an eye on that.
She begins to speak, and she's clearly at least a bit miffed. "Alright, so you claim to know everything, but you can't tell me because you claim that if you do, some crazy powerful precog is going to show up and kill us…"
I interrupt. "Technically I never said anything about a pre…"
I can tell she's glaring even with the mask. I then remember that she usually carries a gun.
I shut up.
"As I was saying, you have convenient excuses for giving me actually useful information, and what you're claiming is crazy enough that I'm about ready to believe more that you've got some kind of Stranger/Trump power that fucks with mine, rather than you're telling the truth. I'm taking a real fucking risk here, and if you don't give me something actually useful to go on…" She stops, but her hand twitches, and in a Thinker-Thinker moment which is even more surreal from the inside, I know she knows I know that she's foreshadowing reaching for her gun.
I sigh. "Alright, alright. So there's an easier and safer way to do this. Let's talk about Coil."
She starts for a moment, and then nods curtly. Her hand is still twitching. Damn, from her perspective I suppose this does look very sketchy. From what I know of Coil it would be entirely in character for him to use a Stranger if he had one to test the loyalty of his subordinates. I can see where the paranoia comes from.
Man this is not going to be nice. "Ok, so, we have to take Coil down very, very quickly. I know you want to get rid of him because he hired you at gunpoint. It gets way, way worse however, and even with the 'alliance' he cannot be trusted. He is dangerous with a capital D, and he has no qualms about doing the most horrific things imaginable for reasons which will soon be apparent. But there's an issue. Well, really, there are three issues, and the first one is the most important for you right now, so I'm going to have to tell you why first and then let you make a decision."
I take a deep breath. "So, Coil's power. I know you think it's some kind of probability manipulation, and you're almost right but it's much deeper than that. Coil can 'split' himself so that he exists in two separate timelines at once and takes different actions in each. So he could be simultaneously at home eating dinner, and in his secret base making secret plans. The thing is, at any time he can also decide which timeline to 'keep' and drop the other one so that it stops existing, so that only he remembers anything that happened there. A dropped timeline has no other causal effect on the kept one - there's basically no way to tell what happened in one unless you are Coil. After he drops a timeline he can immediately split and start a new one. That's…"
Tattletale started pacing as I began to detail Coil's power, and now she begins to speak, interrupting me. I can see her Corona activating as her power makes intuitive leaps on what I've mentioned. "That's why he never seems to fail! He only keeps the timelines in which he succeeds at an action. Shit, with the coins, where he flipped the coins over and over and called it right every single time, he was just picking the timeline where he was right and tossing the one where he was wrong each time!"
She curses. "Goddamn that's a strong power. Hmm If we tried to kill him, we'd have to get him in both timelines at once, or else he'd use the other one to escape and negate our attempt, but fuck, even trying and failing would tip him off, and we'd never know about it because that timeline would have never happened! We could be killed for the actions of our theoretical other selves! For fuck sakes…"
I wince. "It, uh, it gets worse."
"How could it possibly get worse?" She asks. I stare for a moment and loosen my control of my body language. She stares for a moment, twinging as the first indications of a headache start forming, and then blanches. "Shit. Sociopath. He's a sociopath. He has a way of doing things that nobody except him will ever know about. He's a sadist. He can use those extra timelines to… he has used those timelines to…" And there's the Tattletale I know. Can't resist the intuitive leap. And now she's realizing just what he's been doing during their 'meetings'...
She turns and runs to a corner of the alleyway where she is loudly and violently ill. I'm not sure if I should move over and help or just wait, so I take the null option and just don't do anything.
"So, the next time Coil calls you in for one of his little meetings, he probably figures out everything I tell you by doing exactly what you are thinking of in the other timeline, and you wouldn't even know it. Normally I'd suggest you precommit to committing suicide in that case, but even that would be a change from how you've acted in the past, and so he'd have basically as many tries as he wants to find a way around it to actually get at what he wants to know. He's moderately intelligent and extremely paranoid. I.. hmm.. Unless…"
I pause and begin thinking as designs whizz across my mind. So many possibilities… Aha. Have the entities been watching Star Trek, or is this pulling from my memories? Anyway...
"So, I can build a device which will, when activated, convert all feelings of pain to those of pleasure. There are some significant issues with keeping it on forever, but in the short term it would allow you to resist basically any kind of torture he could think of, and you're probably a good enough liar to convince him of some cover story we can figure out…"
I trail off. I'm not really certain how else to react here.
Tattletale stands and wipes her mouth off, when she turns she has a look of unbridled fury on her face. I cancel the biological macro that would have made me involuntarily take a step back, and turn my face neutral. It seems clear that the anger isn't directed at me but it's still quite alarming.
I can see her power activating, and I can't tell what she's asking but I can guess.
"So, again, I'm fully on board with dealing with Coil as fast as…"
She interrupts me.
"We're going to kill him."
I pause.
"Well, yes. That is basically the only way to stop him permanently."
I purposefully blank my body language again. Because it isn't. It really isn't.
There are other technologies flashing through my mind's eye. Dozens of ways to hijack Coil's brain, to lobotomize him and use him the way Cauldron uses Doormaker, the way Khepri uses everyone at the Golden Morning. Methods to upload someone else into his mind and hiijack his power. Biological overrides. Ways to trap him in his own little personal hell. Complete sensory overlays. Drugs thousands of times more potent than those he's trying to addict Dinah to, after all wouldn't turnabout be fair play? So many possibilities.
I cut them all off and clear my mental workspace.
I can't let myself go down that path. It doesn't lead anywhere good.
Tattletale takes a deep breath and sighs.
"Ok. So it's very, very bad. Well fuck, at least there's a way out. And at least I know what I'm up against now. Damn. And you say there's more? How could this get any…"
I blur forward and put my hand over her mouth before she can finish. I may have just torn some muscles there - I suppress the pain response and trigger advanced healing. Actually… why am I not just constantly forcing the tear and repair of all of my muscles? It would have a huge energy cost, but I'll just eat more. I can get the benefits of exercise 24/7. Training from hell that actually works.
Right, later. Tattletale has tensed significantly and her hand has come up to grab my wrist. I drop my hand from her mouth and stare down.
"Please don't tempt fate. I wouldn't be surprised if someone had a fucking power that just causes shit to happen when people say that. Murphy is not to be underestimated, especially in Brockton Bay."
Tattletale just stares at me for a second, and I note that my hand is now resting on her shoulder, with hers still on my wrist. I squeeze slightly and then cough. She starts suddenly and we both back away.
Awkward.
"Anyways," I start. "There is a bit more that we'll have to go over - when you guys robbed the bank, Coil kidnapped another precog and he's in the process or has recently finished addicting her to some serious drugs to force her to work for him. Their powers have some outrageous synergy, and the only reason we'd even have a chance of beating them is that I know stuff I really shouldn't about what kinds of questions he's going to ask her. Even so, sooner rather than later would be better."
Tattletale nods. She's got a hard look on her face. This has gotten serious very quickly.
"How do you plan to convince the others to go along with this? I'm guessing you have a plan."
I laugh for a few moments. "I have a few plans, but they all rely on me actually having some time I don't have. I need to get some basic tools if I'm going to start being any kind of useful, and really I'm having to sort things via triage. There are huge fucking problems that have to be solved, but I need to prioritize. Coil first, because he's close and because the longer he has to get established, the harder it will be to deal with."
I smile. "Well, we aren't accomplishing anything standing here."
I give a mock bow and extend a hand towards the alleyway, motioning for her to lead on. She gives me a look which seems to say 'I'll expect more about that later', shakes her head and continues on.
It takes us about another ten minutes to reach the location. Right before we arrive she asks me what exactly I plan to do there.
Well, I could use a laugh.
"We're going to break into a Medhall research facility, so that I can use their equipment to tinker up a few things I desperately need to get started and so that we don't all die horrible, horrible deaths very very soon. We are going there because it is the only expendable place with an electron microscope and biological research equipment in the city, and because Medhall is a front for the E88, so it won't be as much of a problem when we blow the place up to cover our tracks as we leave, pinning it on the ABB by using a Tinker explosive I'll also be cooking up while we are there."
There is a single moment of the most profound silence. Of all the things I've said tonight, maybe just as the straw that breaks the camel's back, I've managed to actually leave Tatttletale speechless.
I'm actually quite proud of that.
Tattletale's mouth opens and closes a few times before she manages to choke out a word.
"What."
I laugh lightly as we turn the last corner. "Don't worry, it'll be a piece of cake."
I freeze. What did I just say. WHAT DID I JUST SAY.
Well, turns out I can still do stupid shit even when I think I have total control of myself. Wonderful.
Dreading but honestly expecting it, we turn the last corner and see three cars pulled up to the building we are intending to rob, and a half dozen shadowy figures moving in and around them As we watch, one of them kicks down the main door and a few begin to enter. As they do, I can see a flash of colour - a band tied around their arms.
Red and green.
ABB colours.
...Fuck.
So for explanation, I'm in the final process of finishing up my law certification, and these last few months have been... well for lack of a better word 'hectic'.
I'm trying to budget my time a bit better for the future, and again while I can't guarantee a regular update schedule, I'll do my best to be better than almost 4 months next time. (Wow it really was that long).
This hasn't been edited, so expect some probable changes when i have time. This is mostly a confirmation that the story is not dead.
1.3- The One Unbreakable Law
The streets are still dark, and just to add some more ominousness to a sketchy Brockton Bay night, the fog has started to roll in. It's only minor for now, but I'm already completely lost. Lisa seems to know the way, either she's got a good memory for streets or she's just querying her power to figure out where we are going.
Me, I'm glancing around trying to get my bearings, and also keeping a firm hand on my adrenal glands. If I see something that looks weird, I'm going to flood my damn system. This place gave me the creeps before I had maybe two meters visibility.
"Alright, that's far enough."
Lis- Tattletale, she's in costume. Tattletale stops. I pause my introspection to look around more closely. We seem to be in an almost empty alleyway with nobody else around, and a lot less garbage than the one in which i made my unexpected debut. Even the buildings which form the walls don't have any windows as high as I can see. In other words, it's a perfect area for secret conversations.
Tattletale turns to me and speaks again. "Right, this is about as private as we're going to get - and if you make the joke you're about to I will break your arm - so it's time to spill."
She stares at me. I choke back the pun which rose unbidden when she started talking, and pause for a moment to think.
"Ok" I start, beginning to pace a bit as I try to figure out what I can and cannot say "First, I know a lot more than I suggested I did before. What I didn't mention is that my plane took off in June, 2016. Aside from apparently jumping dimensions, I've also gone back in time about 5 years."
Tattletale states at me for a second before nodding. "Alright, say I buy that. What does that help? If you're from a different reality, you still shouldn't know anything about our immediate future. Unless you…"
I hold up a hand. "Don't bother, I'll tell you some of it, but I can't really explain fully for reasons I also can't really explain fully."
She begins to frown and I can tell that she's starting to get angry, so I speak a bit louder to interrupt. " I know you're already thinking 'bullshit' to that but it's kind of important. I.. hmm.."
This is going to be complicated. Right now I'm as far below some of the people I'm trying to outmaneuver as a gnat is below an elephant. I can't rely on some kind of extradimensional safety against precogs, which means everyone is already either acting on future knowledge about what I'm going to be doing (which would be really bad) or I die so soon as for it to be irrelevant in the long run. Any attempt to make this information public before then, even one which succeeds accidentally, would trigger at the very least Contessa. Worst case scenario, the Simurgh replaces Leviathan in a few weeks, I get Smurfed, the world ends in an even worse manner and it's all my fault.
Y'know what, fuck everyone who said Tinkers were bullshit: precognitives are mega ultra bullshit! I've gotta figure out some way to… Oh… OH.
Well. Huh.
We're going to save that schematic random tinker database, thanks for the context sensitive search options. Man how does this even work?
Holy crap, I have no idea what I'm doing. Well, It's a good thing I work well under pressure (and let's just turn down all those stress hormones) , I guess I'll just dance as fast as I can. Time to play Xanatos Speed Chess.
Now how do I convince Tattletale I'm not full of shit?
I pause for a second as if to gather my thoughts. "Ok, here's an explanation of how fucked this can get. Y'know the PRT's system for ranking parahuman strength right?"
Tattletale nods, and gets a look on her face as if to question why I think she's an idiot.
I cough, and purposefully turn down my embarrassment. She hacks the PRT for fun. Man I'm out of it.
Moving on.
"Alright, dumb question. Anyways, they have or will have, I'm not sure on the timing, you categorized as a Thinker 8. 8 Is pretty good, and your power is both generally strong and really useful for psychological warfare. Doesn't hurt that you're actually smart about using it" She nods to that and a ghost of a smirk passes her face.
I continue quickly before she can say anything. "But, there are limitations. Part of that is the power itself, that you can get headaches when it's overused or used in the wrong way. Part of that, sorry, but it's true, is in you. Your psychology. You can't help but want to be the smartest person in the room, and you take risks to prove that, like your stunt with Glory Girl and Panacea in the bank - you could have been splattered like a puddle there if that had gone worse. A lot of powers are limited by the people that hold them - imagine a more proactive Lung for example, or worse, an aggressive Glastig Uiane or Nilbog. And a lot of others are even stronger because of who has them: stronger than they would be otherwise. Sometimes personal psychologies are limitations on powers."
She gets a look on her face when I start commenting on her psychology, and judging by her body language it looks like she is also getting really annoyed, probably that I know so much about her power, but she motions for me to keep going.
"Right, so, imagine someone who basically is their power. I mean is perfectly in tune with how the power operates. It has few or no restrictions, it never fails, and it never gives them any trouble or downsides. Sounds good right? Now add on that the power that person has is at minimum, Thinker 12."
Tattletale's jaw drops at that one. "What would that even? Who has a power like that?!"
I shake my head and close my eyes. "I'm not even going to name them. I'm not that stupid. It rarely ever ends well. Look, where I come from this person often is given the joke classification of 'Thinker Run'. Their power is basically 'can't lose' with very few exceptions. That's the kind of bullshit that could come out if I even mention out loud some of the shit I know. Yes, that sounds crazy, but based on how I think you work, I suspect your power has told you some things about me that also sound crazy."
She sighs and looks up at me, scowling, her eyes unreadable behind that silly little domino mask. Seriously, why do people even use those here? And spandex? Come on, you are already the squishiest member of your group, with the possible exception of Regent. Get some real armor! I could make a thin layer of plating that could go beneath your skin and allow you to interface with a set of heavy power armor Space Marine Black Carapace style and….
I shake my head for a moment. Right, Tinker fugue. Keep an eye on that.
She begins to speak, and she's clearly at least a bit miffed. "Alright, so you claim to know everything, but you can't tell me because you claim that if you do, some crazy powerful precog is going to show up and kill us…"
I interrupt. "Technically I never said anything about a pre…"
I can tell she's glaring even with the mask. I then remember that she usually carries a gun.
I shut up.
"As I was saying, you have convenient excuses for giving me actually useful information, and what you're claiming is crazy enough that I'm about ready to believe more that you've got some kind of Stranger/Trump power that fucks with mine, rather than you're telling the truth. I'm taking a real fucking risk here, and if you don't give me something actually useful to go on…" She stops, but her hand twitches, and in a Thinker-Thinker moment which is even more surreal from the inside, I know she knows I know that she's foreshadowing reaching for her gun.
I sigh. "Alright, alright. So there's an easier and safer way to do this. Let's talk about Coil."
She starts for a moment, and then nods curtly. Her hand is still twitching. Damn, from her perspective I suppose this does look very sketchy. From what I know of Coil it would be entirely in character for him to use a Stranger if he had one to test the loyalty of his subordinates. I can see where the paranoia comes from.
Man this is not going to be nice. "Ok, so, we have to take Coil down very, very quickly. I know you want to get rid of him because he hired you at gunpoint. It gets way, way worse however, and even with the 'alliance' he cannot be trusted. He is dangerous with a capital D, and he has no qualms about doing the most horrific things imaginable for reasons which will soon be apparent. But there's an issue. Well, really, there are three issues, and the first one is the most important for you right now, so I'm going to have to tell you why first and then let you make a decision."
I take a deep breath. "So, Coil's power. I know you think it's some kind of probability manipulation, and you're almost right but it's much deeper than that. Coil can 'split' himself so that he exists in two separate timelines at once and takes different actions in each. So he could be simultaneously at home eating dinner, and in his secret base making secret plans. The thing is, at any time he can also decide which timeline to 'keep' and drop the other one so that it stops existing, so that only he remembers anything that happened there. A dropped timeline has no other causal effect on the kept one - there's basically no way to tell what happened in one unless you are Coil. After he drops a timeline he can immediately split and start a new one. That's…"
Tattletale started pacing as I began to detail Coil's power, and now she begins to speak, interrupting me. I can see her Corona activating as her power makes intuitive leaps on what I've mentioned. "That's why he never seems to fail! He only keeps the timelines in which he succeeds at an action. Shit, with the coins, where he flipped the coins over and over and called it right every single time, he was just picking the timeline where he was right and tossing the one where he was wrong each time!"
She curses. "Goddamn that's a strong power. Hmm If we tried to kill him, we'd have to get him in both timelines at once, or else he'd use the other one to escape and negate our attempt, but fuck, even trying and failing would tip him off, and we'd never know about it because that timeline would have never happened! We could be killed for the actions of our theoretical other selves! For fuck sakes…"
I wince. "It, uh, it gets worse."
"How could it possibly get worse?" She asks. I stare for a moment and loosen my control of my body language. She stares for a moment, twinging as the first indications of a headache start forming, and then blanches. "Shit. Sociopath. He's a sociopath. He has a way of doing things that nobody except him will ever know about. He's a sadist. He can use those extra timelines to… he has used those timelines to…" And there's the Tattletale I know. Can't resist the intuitive leap. And now she's realizing just what he's been doing during their 'meetings'...
She turns and runs to a corner of the alleyway where she is loudly and violently ill. I'm not sure if I should move over and help or just wait, so I take the null option and just don't do anything.
"So, the next time Coil calls you in for one of his little meetings, he probably figures out everything I tell you by doing exactly what you are thinking of in the other timeline, and you wouldn't even know it. Normally I'd suggest you precommit to committing suicide in that case, but even that would be a change from how you've acted in the past, and so he'd have basically as many tries as he wants to find a way around it to actually get at what he wants to know. He's moderately intelligent and extremely paranoid. I.. hmm.. Unless…"
I pause and begin thinking as designs whizz across my mind. So many possibilities… Aha. Have the entities been watching Star Trek, or is this pulling from my memories? Anyway...
"So, I can build a device which will, when activated, convert all feelings of pain to those of pleasure. There are some significant issues with keeping it on forever, but in the short term it would allow you to resist basically any kind of torture he could think of, and you're probably a good enough liar to convince him of some cover story we can figure out…"
I trail off. I'm not really certain how else to react here.
Tattletale stands and wipes her mouth off, when she turns she has a look of unbridled fury on her face. I cancel the biological macro that would have made me involuntarily take a step back, and turn my face neutral. It seems clear that the anger isn't directed at me but it's still quite alarming.
I can see her power activating, and I can't tell what she's asking but I can guess.
"So, again, I'm fully on board with dealing with Coil as fast as…"
She interrupts me.
"We're going to kill him."
I pause.
"Well, yes. That is basically the only way to stop him permanently."
I purposefully blank my body language again. Because it isn't. It really isn't.
There are other technologies flashing through my mind's eye. Dozens of ways to hijack Coil's brain, to lobotomize him and use him the way Cauldron uses Doormaker, the way Khepri uses everyone at the Golden Morning. Methods to upload someone else into his mind and hiijack his power. Biological overrides. Ways to trap him in his own little personal hell. Complete sensory overlays. Drugs thousands of times more potent than those he's trying to addict Dinah to, after all wouldn't turnabout be fair play? So many possibilities.
I cut them all off and clear my mental workspace.
I can't let myself go down that path. It doesn't lead anywhere good.
Tattletale takes a deep breath and sighs.
"Ok. So it's very, very bad. Well fuck, at least there's a way out. And at least I know what I'm up against now. Damn. And you say there's more? How could this get any…"
I blur forward and put my hand over her mouth before she can finish. I may have just torn some muscles there - I suppress the pain response and trigger advanced healing. Actually… why am I not just constantly forcing the tear and repair of all of my muscles? It would have a huge energy cost, but I'll just eat more. I can get the benefits of exercise 24/7. Training from hell that actually works.
Right, later. Tattletale has tensed significantly and her hand has come up to grab my wrist. I drop my hand from her mouth and stare down.
"Please don't tempt fate. I wouldn't be surprised if someone had a fucking power that just causes shit to happen when people say that. Murphy is not to be underestimated, especially in Brockton Bay."
Tattletale just stares at me for a second, and I note that my hand is now resting on her shoulder, with hers still on my wrist. I squeeze slightly and then cough. She starts suddenly and we both back away.
Awkward.
"Anyways," I start. "There is a bit more that we'll have to go over - when you guys robbed the bank, Coil kidnapped another precog and he's in the process or has recently finished addicting her to some serious drugs to force her to work for him. Their powers have some outrageous synergy, and the only reason we'd even have a chance of beating them is that I know stuff I really shouldn't about what kinds of questions he's going to ask her. Even so, sooner rather than later would be better."
Tattletale nods. She's got a hard look on her face. This has gotten serious very quickly.
"How do you plan to convince the others to go along with this? I'm guessing you have a plan."
I laugh for a few moments. "I have a few plans, but they all rely on me actually having some time I don't have. I need to get some basic tools if I'm going to start being any kind of useful, and really I'm having to sort things via triage. There are huge fucking problems that have to be solved, but I need to prioritize. Coil first, because he's close and because the longer he has to get established, the harder it will be to deal with."
I smile. "Well, we aren't accomplishing anything standing here."
I give a mock bow and extend a hand towards the alleyway, motioning for her to lead on. She gives me a look which seems to say 'I'll expect more about that later', shakes her head and continues on.
It takes us about another ten minutes to reach the location. Right before we arrive she asks me what exactly I plan to do there.
Well, I could use a laugh.
"We're going to break into a Medhall research facility, so that I can use their equipment to tinker up a few things I desperately need to get started and so that we don't all die horrible, horrible deaths very very soon. We are going there because it is the only expendable place with an electron microscope and biological research equipment in the city, and because Medhall is a front for the E88, so it won't be as much of a problem when we blow the place up to cover our tracks as we leave, pinning it on the ABB by using a Tinker explosive I'll also be cooking up while we are there."
There is a single moment of the most profound silence. Of all the things I've said tonight, maybe just as the straw that breaks the camel's back, I've managed to actually leave Tatttletale speechless.
I'm actually quite proud of that.
Tattletale's mouth opens and closes a few times before she manages to choke out a word.
"What."
I laugh lightly as we turn the last corner. "Don't worry, it'll be a piece of cake."
I freeze. What did I just say. WHAT DID I JUST SAY.
Well, turns out I can still do stupid shit even when I think I have total control of myself. Wonderful.
Dreading but honestly expecting it, we turn the last corner and see three cars pulled up to the building we are intending to rob, and a half dozen shadowy figures moving in and around them As we watch, one of them kicks down the main door and a few begin to enter. As they do, I can see a flash of colour - a band tied around their arms.
Red and green.
ABB colours.
...Fuck.
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1.4 - Clandestine Crafting
- Location
- Canada
Here we go again. Expect real time edits as I figure out what I've fucked up this time.
1.4 - Clandestine Crafting
We pull back behind the corner and I can hear Tattletale cursing under her breath. "So, what now?"
I stop a moment to think. If I remember the layout of the building, most of the actual drugs are stored in a clinic out front, where the ABB broke in. However the research lab and most of the equipment are in the back, and there is an employee entrance around the other side of the building which would allow direct access to the lab.
It really depends on why the ABB is here. If they are here to just steal the drugs, then they probably won't even enter the lab, but if they are some of Bakuda's conscripts, they might be here after the same equipment we are…
I turn back to Tattletale and start whispering. "There's a rear entrance, can you tell why they are here? Are there any indicators which might point to them being here for the equipment and not just as a smash and grab?"
Tattletale leans around the corner to get a view of the gang for a moment. "They have more cars than would be necessary for the people I've seen. One is scratching his neck - there's a recent scar - he's been implanted with a bomb by Bakuda. Another is… shit!" She curses and pulls back around the corner quickly, wincing. "Shit, I think he's coming this way!"
We scramble for a moment. We're in a very small alleyway, which curves away about 90 feet to the south, and judging by the look on Tattletale's face we aren't going to be able to make it to the end before we're spotted. I'm still in my stained clothing, although a bit cleaner on the inside, and Tattletale is in her costume with a dark coat over top to keep visibility down. Damn what are we…
Tattletale grabs my arm and pushes me towards a stinking dumpster about ten feet into the alley. I duck down behind it. Tattletale turns and crouches down behind her coat, so her costume isn't visible. I can see her palming a holdout pistol beneath it as she starts to make a fake sobbing sound, which just barely carries through the damp night air.
I can hear the crunching of shoes on gravel as whichever ABB goon is nearby approaches. As he enters the alley I can hear a zipper being undone and a splashing sound for a few seconds, when Tattletale lets out a louder sob and the sound stops. The crunching starts again, and I can hear some fumbling as a voice calls out in what I think is Korean.
"geogi nuguya?"
The steps move closer, and as I see the figure pass my location, still facing Tattletale, I flood my system with adrenaline and heavily dilate my pupils.
The world seems to slow down slightly, and I can tell that I'm putting outrageous stress on my body by doing this, but I can see the figure. He looks to be in his early 20's, and much fitter than I am, wearing some ripped jeans, a vest and wifebeater combination below an open rainjacket, and carrying what looks to be a submachinegun in one hand.
I also notice, to my dismay, that he hasn't bothered doing his fly back up.
I have a second of no thought, and then he starts raising his arm with the gun towards Tattletale, and I move without consciously intending it.
He's clearly stronger and better trained than me, and he's probably significantly tougher. I'm a bit out of shape, and I haven't been involved in martial arts in years, but I have something he doesn't have.
I get to add Intelligence to damage.
I take the first step and my body reading power seems to kick into overdrive. I'm reminded of a fight scene in a movie I watched once, and I start to plan out my attack.
First, distract the target.
"Hey, you forgot to zip up."
The ABB goon turns towards me in alarm, raising his gun as he moves. I move to the left to keep out of the line of fire.
Next, remove weapon, disable primary arm.
As he extends his arm fully, I take another step in. I am significantly taller, and I've got a much better reach than he does.
I can feel my muscles screaming at the motion, but I lock my right hand around his wrist, and dig my fingers directly into the nerve clusters that control the fingers. The gun drops as his hand spasms slightly, and he moves to catch it with his other hand. I pull his arm to full extension, and my left hand opens and strikes through his elbow joint, overextending it and popping it out of the socket.
I can see the effect rippling through his exposed arm as his mouth opens to scream and his arm begins to relax.
Muscles in left hip and thigh contracting. Will attempt left side roundhouse kick, step back.
As his arm falls limp, he pushes off with his rear leg and lances out at me. I stumble back one step and turn, narrowly dodging and now showing my back. I hear a gasping sound.
Inhaling, will attempt to scream, utilize momentum of turn.
Pulling my right arm in close, as I spin around I extend it outwards and tense my arm muscles as he returns to view. I plant my front foot and transfer my whole momentum into a strike on his solar plexus.
There is a crack, and then a sound like air escaping a balloon.
Diaphragm spasming, voluntary breathing impossible.
He pushes forwards, gasping as his left arm reaches for my throat.
Enraged, attempting to grapple. Step inside reach and strike jaw with elbow.
I step in and his arm extends over my right shoulder, as it bends to try to grab my shirt, my left elbow comes up to strike the greater auricular nerve on the right underside of his jaw.
Right arm dislocated, diaphragm spasming, weapon disarmed, jaw fractured, estimated loss of consciousness from fluid pressure of elbow strike on aural nerve in 0.3s. Estimated recovery time without parahuman assistance: four weeks.
The body slumps as the goon passes out, leaning forward onto me. I slowly lower him to the alleyway and let the adrenaline drain from my system.
Time resumes its normal pace. My head starts pounding, and my power must be overworked, because I don't seem to be able to negate it entirely, only with effort able to reduce it to a dull ache. The muscles in my arms and legs are similarly painful, and I turn to Tattletale who is looking a bit surprised.
"Huh. Wasn't expecting that. Combat thinker?"
I grit my teeth and reach down, picking up the gun dropped by the ABB thug. Looks like a standard one handed submachine gun, and if I had to use it, there's about a 0% chance it wouldn't be heard for a dozen blocks. Well, that's less than helpful, but at least he didn't get a shot off. I click the safety on. What kind of idiot keeps a loaded gun with the safety off in his pants?
I turn back to Tattletale. "Well, considering I about broke myself taking out one unpowered thug, not exactly a huge threat. I'm also pretty sure it only works on humans. It seems to be a part of my bio-radar power."
She waves a hand at me and starts going through my victim's pockets, coming up with a moneyclip and an extra magazine for the gun, as well as a switchblade. She grimaces as she looks down and I nudge the body with a foot so its face (and junk) down in the alley.
"Right, so, now what?"
I stand shakily and lean on the wall of the alleyway. I peek around the corner again, and it looks like they've mostly all gone inside. I motion, and Tattletale follows as we cross the street and approach the building from the rear.
After a few uneventful minutes of skulking, we reach the employee door. There is a card reader and alarm system guarding the entrance, but it's merely a conventional system and between Tattletale's detective magic and my own tinker skills, it's barely an obstacle.
Huh, it's funny. We tooled up for an infiltration mission and we are the most physically weak of the group, and of course it turns out that there's going to be combat.
I should have invited Taylor. Mental note, in future, always bring Escalation Queen.
…
On second thought, maybe it's for the best. I am going to work on biotinkering up something for her though. I can probably wire an insect brain into the control circuit of a drone…
I shake my head to clear the tinker fugue I can feel myself entering, and we press on.
The corridor is dark, and the only light is from an emergency light and the red EXIT above the door we've entered from. I close the door and dilate my pupils again to get a bit of night vision. I can hear the sounds of crashing from the front of the place, but the sound is dulled a bit - hopefully they haven't bothered coming through the isolation ward in between the shop and the research lab.
As we walk down the corridor I notice a janitor's closet. It's locked, but Tattletale pulls out a set of picks and has it opened in under a minute.
Inside I find the holy grail. A full toolbox. There's also a set of overalls with tool pouches and a few bottles of industrial strength cleaners. All useful. I put the bottles in the mop bucket, don the overalls, and move on.
After a few turns, we arrive at the main lab. I flick the switch and we blink the glare out of our eyes as they adjust to the lighting.
In the centre of the room is a beautiful set of medical equipment. Microscopes, electronic lab equipment, full chemical sets, computers and freezers for storage. I immediately move to the terminal in the centre of the room and plug in the USB stick I brought. The screen flickers for a moment as my worm subverts the system, and the records open up before me. I spend a moment going through the manifest.
"Hmm. That.. that could help significantly. Alright, so there are a few things I need to grab quickly. Tattletale, go to Freezer G-4 and bring out sample 889743-B12, and then Freezer G-3 and sample 768343-A99. I'm going to go reconfigure some of the equipment…"
Tattletale just stares at me for a moment, and then sighs and moves over to the freezers. "Sure, no problem. I'm a lab assistant now I guess…"
I ignore her, and for the first time I let my tinker power run wild. I reach one of the electric microscopes and begin to disassemble it, and rip apart a few bunsen burners to create a makeshift forge. I disassemble the gun I took off of the ABB goon and remove the trigger mechanism. I melt down the lead from the bullets and seperate the gunpowder to basic chemical components. KNO3 and KCLO4. Recombine, modify into crystal lattice structure. Expose to heat at 473 degrees, refine…
I lose myself for a time. Tattletale moves in and out of my vision, but I barely notice. Everything just seems so… clear.
I come out shaking my head as Tattletale is gripping on my shoulder. I turn to her. Adrenaline. Nervous response. Agitated.
"For fuck's sake listen to me! They are coming!"
My vision clears and I look around. The lab has been transformed. The machines are all in various states of disassembly, the electron microscope has been torn open and has a blue glow coming from its centre. On the table in front of me are three objects: a syringe filled with a grey liquid, a chip of some kind with a tear-off strip on the bottom, and a strange-looking gun.
I pick up the gun and hand it to Tattletale. "Alright, this is a bit of a problem but not unsurmountable. This is a neural disruptor. It fires a pulse of energy which interrupts and disables voluntary nerves. This blue glow is the charge indicator. It should be good for about 20 normal shots. The energy should penetrate just about any kind of non-powered armor - it would only be interrupted by actual electricity or about a foot of solid material."
At this point, Tattletale is looking at the thing slightly alarmed. She opens her mouth to say something, but I hold up a hand as I continue.
"At standard power, a chest shot should disable all voluntary movement below the eyes for about a half hour, depending on body mass. Limb shots should entirely disable the limb struck and headshots should knock a target out for several hours. At this level, it's perfectly non-lethal. This switch will change it to area fire. That will send out a pulse which hits everything in a forward arc out to about a hundred feet or so. Same effect and restrictions as the normal shot, only everyone hit should be knocked out, and there may be some spasming as the nerve endings randomly fire. Expect people holding guns to have them go off. One shot should use about a quarter of the whole charge, so use this sparingly."
She hefts the gun, and her trademark grin begins to creep across her face. She turns back to the table. "Alright, we've got like 2 minutes, what are these?"
I pick up the syringe. I roll up my left sleeve as I talk. "This is what I needed to start my tinkering, all of this was mostly to construct these two devices. I'm afraid this next part is not going to be pleasant. In this syringe is a general anesthetic and several thousand of what I'm calling 'nanocytes'. They aren't quite nanotechnology, but it's fairly close. In effect, they are artificial stem cells, which can take over for the function of any cell in the human body. However, they also have significant upgrades. Instead of mitochondria, they have microscopic power plants. For a nucleus they have solid state computing crystals, and they can function as molecular factories, printing off a variety of useful compounds on command. They contain a full backup of my genetic code, with a few modifications. They can also network together and work in tandem. I've stripped the coating from HIV to use as a defense mechanism - they are virtually invisible to a normal immune system's detection abilities. They also have injectors to allow them to interface with and manipulate normal cells. However, they are rather difficult to build, I could only create a few thousand, and I don't have the materials here to create more so I'll have to improvise."
I dull my pain receptors in my arm as I jab the needle forward slightly. The modified diamond-tip goes straight through my skin and makes a microscopic hole in my humerus, as I inject the payload.
Unnnh
I fall to one knee and drop the now empty syringe, grabbing the other device as I go.
Tattletale gets an alarmed look and moves over, grabbing my left arm. No blood is coming out of the hole. "What the hell did you just do?!"
I grit my teeth and smile. "I ugh… programmed them to -Ow - use my bone marrow as raw material. Should take about a half hour to convert 100% of my bone marrow to nanocytes. They should be able to take over that job. I estimate a 92% chance of success."
"And what happens if they don't work?!"
I grimace. "Well, it will destroy my entire immune and lymphatic systems, and I'll likely die of toxic shock. And if I wasn't in the middle of Brockton fucking Bay, that would concern me a lot more. This place is a deathtrap and I don't have time for risk-free."
I can feel my body relaxing from the anesthetic. Good. Should be fine for this. Man this is going to hurt.
I rip off the coating on the bottom of the implant and trigger the activator.
"What the heck is that?!"
I push up my hair and move my hand to the back of my head. As I do I smile at Tattletale.
"This? This is freedom. I trust you to protect me while I'm out. I'm sorry to do this, but I only have a few minute window to make sure this works - neither of these are designed to function externally. If I don't use it now, I lose it. If you have to, leave me and get out yourself. I should be able to find my way back, assuming I survive."
Tattletale stares at me for a moment and then curses as the sound of voices begins to echo down the hallway through the open door. She flips over a table, ducking behind it and aims the disruptor at the door. "Goddamn it, if you die I'm going to kill you. You said we'd be taking care of Coil. I'm holding you to that."
I nod. "Yeah, I get it. I'll do my best. Here goes nothing…"
I push the hissing device to the base of my skull. I can feel my skin disintegrating as it latches onto the skull and…
Darkness.
1.4 - Clandestine Crafting
We pull back behind the corner and I can hear Tattletale cursing under her breath. "So, what now?"
I stop a moment to think. If I remember the layout of the building, most of the actual drugs are stored in a clinic out front, where the ABB broke in. However the research lab and most of the equipment are in the back, and there is an employee entrance around the other side of the building which would allow direct access to the lab.
It really depends on why the ABB is here. If they are here to just steal the drugs, then they probably won't even enter the lab, but if they are some of Bakuda's conscripts, they might be here after the same equipment we are…
I turn back to Tattletale and start whispering. "There's a rear entrance, can you tell why they are here? Are there any indicators which might point to them being here for the equipment and not just as a smash and grab?"
Tattletale leans around the corner to get a view of the gang for a moment. "They have more cars than would be necessary for the people I've seen. One is scratching his neck - there's a recent scar - he's been implanted with a bomb by Bakuda. Another is… shit!" She curses and pulls back around the corner quickly, wincing. "Shit, I think he's coming this way!"
We scramble for a moment. We're in a very small alleyway, which curves away about 90 feet to the south, and judging by the look on Tattletale's face we aren't going to be able to make it to the end before we're spotted. I'm still in my stained clothing, although a bit cleaner on the inside, and Tattletale is in her costume with a dark coat over top to keep visibility down. Damn what are we…
Tattletale grabs my arm and pushes me towards a stinking dumpster about ten feet into the alley. I duck down behind it. Tattletale turns and crouches down behind her coat, so her costume isn't visible. I can see her palming a holdout pistol beneath it as she starts to make a fake sobbing sound, which just barely carries through the damp night air.
I can hear the crunching of shoes on gravel as whichever ABB goon is nearby approaches. As he enters the alley I can hear a zipper being undone and a splashing sound for a few seconds, when Tattletale lets out a louder sob and the sound stops. The crunching starts again, and I can hear some fumbling as a voice calls out in what I think is Korean.
"geogi nuguya?"
The steps move closer, and as I see the figure pass my location, still facing Tattletale, I flood my system with adrenaline and heavily dilate my pupils.
The world seems to slow down slightly, and I can tell that I'm putting outrageous stress on my body by doing this, but I can see the figure. He looks to be in his early 20's, and much fitter than I am, wearing some ripped jeans, a vest and wifebeater combination below an open rainjacket, and carrying what looks to be a submachinegun in one hand.
I also notice, to my dismay, that he hasn't bothered doing his fly back up.
I have a second of no thought, and then he starts raising his arm with the gun towards Tattletale, and I move without consciously intending it.
He's clearly stronger and better trained than me, and he's probably significantly tougher. I'm a bit out of shape, and I haven't been involved in martial arts in years, but I have something he doesn't have.
I get to add Intelligence to damage.
I take the first step and my body reading power seems to kick into overdrive. I'm reminded of a fight scene in a movie I watched once, and I start to plan out my attack.
First, distract the target.
"Hey, you forgot to zip up."
The ABB goon turns towards me in alarm, raising his gun as he moves. I move to the left to keep out of the line of fire.
Next, remove weapon, disable primary arm.
As he extends his arm fully, I take another step in. I am significantly taller, and I've got a much better reach than he does.
I can feel my muscles screaming at the motion, but I lock my right hand around his wrist, and dig my fingers directly into the nerve clusters that control the fingers. The gun drops as his hand spasms slightly, and he moves to catch it with his other hand. I pull his arm to full extension, and my left hand opens and strikes through his elbow joint, overextending it and popping it out of the socket.
I can see the effect rippling through his exposed arm as his mouth opens to scream and his arm begins to relax.
Muscles in left hip and thigh contracting. Will attempt left side roundhouse kick, step back.
As his arm falls limp, he pushes off with his rear leg and lances out at me. I stumble back one step and turn, narrowly dodging and now showing my back. I hear a gasping sound.
Inhaling, will attempt to scream, utilize momentum of turn.
Pulling my right arm in close, as I spin around I extend it outwards and tense my arm muscles as he returns to view. I plant my front foot and transfer my whole momentum into a strike on his solar plexus.
There is a crack, and then a sound like air escaping a balloon.
Diaphragm spasming, voluntary breathing impossible.
He pushes forwards, gasping as his left arm reaches for my throat.
Enraged, attempting to grapple. Step inside reach and strike jaw with elbow.
I step in and his arm extends over my right shoulder, as it bends to try to grab my shirt, my left elbow comes up to strike the greater auricular nerve on the right underside of his jaw.
Right arm dislocated, diaphragm spasming, weapon disarmed, jaw fractured, estimated loss of consciousness from fluid pressure of elbow strike on aural nerve in 0.3s. Estimated recovery time without parahuman assistance: four weeks.
The body slumps as the goon passes out, leaning forward onto me. I slowly lower him to the alleyway and let the adrenaline drain from my system.
Time resumes its normal pace. My head starts pounding, and my power must be overworked, because I don't seem to be able to negate it entirely, only with effort able to reduce it to a dull ache. The muscles in my arms and legs are similarly painful, and I turn to Tattletale who is looking a bit surprised.
"Huh. Wasn't expecting that. Combat thinker?"
I grit my teeth and reach down, picking up the gun dropped by the ABB thug. Looks like a standard one handed submachine gun, and if I had to use it, there's about a 0% chance it wouldn't be heard for a dozen blocks. Well, that's less than helpful, but at least he didn't get a shot off. I click the safety on. What kind of idiot keeps a loaded gun with the safety off in his pants?
I turn back to Tattletale. "Well, considering I about broke myself taking out one unpowered thug, not exactly a huge threat. I'm also pretty sure it only works on humans. It seems to be a part of my bio-radar power."
She waves a hand at me and starts going through my victim's pockets, coming up with a moneyclip and an extra magazine for the gun, as well as a switchblade. She grimaces as she looks down and I nudge the body with a foot so its face (and junk) down in the alley.
"Right, so, now what?"
I stand shakily and lean on the wall of the alleyway. I peek around the corner again, and it looks like they've mostly all gone inside. I motion, and Tattletale follows as we cross the street and approach the building from the rear.
After a few uneventful minutes of skulking, we reach the employee door. There is a card reader and alarm system guarding the entrance, but it's merely a conventional system and between Tattletale's detective magic and my own tinker skills, it's barely an obstacle.
Huh, it's funny. We tooled up for an infiltration mission and we are the most physically weak of the group, and of course it turns out that there's going to be combat.
I should have invited Taylor. Mental note, in future, always bring Escalation Queen.
…
On second thought, maybe it's for the best. I am going to work on biotinkering up something for her though. I can probably wire an insect brain into the control circuit of a drone…
I shake my head to clear the tinker fugue I can feel myself entering, and we press on.
The corridor is dark, and the only light is from an emergency light and the red EXIT above the door we've entered from. I close the door and dilate my pupils again to get a bit of night vision. I can hear the sounds of crashing from the front of the place, but the sound is dulled a bit - hopefully they haven't bothered coming through the isolation ward in between the shop and the research lab.
As we walk down the corridor I notice a janitor's closet. It's locked, but Tattletale pulls out a set of picks and has it opened in under a minute.
Inside I find the holy grail. A full toolbox. There's also a set of overalls with tool pouches and a few bottles of industrial strength cleaners. All useful. I put the bottles in the mop bucket, don the overalls, and move on.
After a few turns, we arrive at the main lab. I flick the switch and we blink the glare out of our eyes as they adjust to the lighting.
In the centre of the room is a beautiful set of medical equipment. Microscopes, electronic lab equipment, full chemical sets, computers and freezers for storage. I immediately move to the terminal in the centre of the room and plug in the USB stick I brought. The screen flickers for a moment as my worm subverts the system, and the records open up before me. I spend a moment going through the manifest.
"Hmm. That.. that could help significantly. Alright, so there are a few things I need to grab quickly. Tattletale, go to Freezer G-4 and bring out sample 889743-B12, and then Freezer G-3 and sample 768343-A99. I'm going to go reconfigure some of the equipment…"
Tattletale just stares at me for a moment, and then sighs and moves over to the freezers. "Sure, no problem. I'm a lab assistant now I guess…"
I ignore her, and for the first time I let my tinker power run wild. I reach one of the electric microscopes and begin to disassemble it, and rip apart a few bunsen burners to create a makeshift forge. I disassemble the gun I took off of the ABB goon and remove the trigger mechanism. I melt down the lead from the bullets and seperate the gunpowder to basic chemical components. KNO3 and KCLO4. Recombine, modify into crystal lattice structure. Expose to heat at 473 degrees, refine…
I lose myself for a time. Tattletale moves in and out of my vision, but I barely notice. Everything just seems so… clear.
I come out shaking my head as Tattletale is gripping on my shoulder. I turn to her. Adrenaline. Nervous response. Agitated.
"For fuck's sake listen to me! They are coming!"
My vision clears and I look around. The lab has been transformed. The machines are all in various states of disassembly, the electron microscope has been torn open and has a blue glow coming from its centre. On the table in front of me are three objects: a syringe filled with a grey liquid, a chip of some kind with a tear-off strip on the bottom, and a strange-looking gun.
I pick up the gun and hand it to Tattletale. "Alright, this is a bit of a problem but not unsurmountable. This is a neural disruptor. It fires a pulse of energy which interrupts and disables voluntary nerves. This blue glow is the charge indicator. It should be good for about 20 normal shots. The energy should penetrate just about any kind of non-powered armor - it would only be interrupted by actual electricity or about a foot of solid material."
At this point, Tattletale is looking at the thing slightly alarmed. She opens her mouth to say something, but I hold up a hand as I continue.
"At standard power, a chest shot should disable all voluntary movement below the eyes for about a half hour, depending on body mass. Limb shots should entirely disable the limb struck and headshots should knock a target out for several hours. At this level, it's perfectly non-lethal. This switch will change it to area fire. That will send out a pulse which hits everything in a forward arc out to about a hundred feet or so. Same effect and restrictions as the normal shot, only everyone hit should be knocked out, and there may be some spasming as the nerve endings randomly fire. Expect people holding guns to have them go off. One shot should use about a quarter of the whole charge, so use this sparingly."
She hefts the gun, and her trademark grin begins to creep across her face. She turns back to the table. "Alright, we've got like 2 minutes, what are these?"
I pick up the syringe. I roll up my left sleeve as I talk. "This is what I needed to start my tinkering, all of this was mostly to construct these two devices. I'm afraid this next part is not going to be pleasant. In this syringe is a general anesthetic and several thousand of what I'm calling 'nanocytes'. They aren't quite nanotechnology, but it's fairly close. In effect, they are artificial stem cells, which can take over for the function of any cell in the human body. However, they also have significant upgrades. Instead of mitochondria, they have microscopic power plants. For a nucleus they have solid state computing crystals, and they can function as molecular factories, printing off a variety of useful compounds on command. They contain a full backup of my genetic code, with a few modifications. They can also network together and work in tandem. I've stripped the coating from HIV to use as a defense mechanism - they are virtually invisible to a normal immune system's detection abilities. They also have injectors to allow them to interface with and manipulate normal cells. However, they are rather difficult to build, I could only create a few thousand, and I don't have the materials here to create more so I'll have to improvise."
I dull my pain receptors in my arm as I jab the needle forward slightly. The modified diamond-tip goes straight through my skin and makes a microscopic hole in my humerus, as I inject the payload.
Unnnh
I fall to one knee and drop the now empty syringe, grabbing the other device as I go.
Tattletale gets an alarmed look and moves over, grabbing my left arm. No blood is coming out of the hole. "What the hell did you just do?!"
I grit my teeth and smile. "I ugh… programmed them to -Ow - use my bone marrow as raw material. Should take about a half hour to convert 100% of my bone marrow to nanocytes. They should be able to take over that job. I estimate a 92% chance of success."
"And what happens if they don't work?!"
I grimace. "Well, it will destroy my entire immune and lymphatic systems, and I'll likely die of toxic shock. And if I wasn't in the middle of Brockton fucking Bay, that would concern me a lot more. This place is a deathtrap and I don't have time for risk-free."
I can feel my body relaxing from the anesthetic. Good. Should be fine for this. Man this is going to hurt.
I rip off the coating on the bottom of the implant and trigger the activator.
"What the heck is that?!"
I push up my hair and move my hand to the back of my head. As I do I smile at Tattletale.
"This? This is freedom. I trust you to protect me while I'm out. I'm sorry to do this, but I only have a few minute window to make sure this works - neither of these are designed to function externally. If I don't use it now, I lose it. If you have to, leave me and get out yourself. I should be able to find my way back, assuming I survive."
Tattletale stares at me for a moment and then curses as the sound of voices begins to echo down the hallway through the open door. She flips over a table, ducking behind it and aims the disruptor at the door. "Goddamn it, if you die I'm going to kill you. You said we'd be taking care of Coil. I'm holding you to that."
I nod. "Yeah, I get it. I'll do my best. Here goes nothing…"
I push the hissing device to the base of my skull. I can feel my skin disintegrating as it latches onto the skull and…
Darkness.
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1.T.2 - Abandonment Issues (Tattletale Interlude)
- Location
- Canada
Sorry about the long wait folks, real life sort of interjected.
On the plus side, I'm a real lawyer now. So that's a thing.
And look! A new chapter! You can call off the assassins.
1.T.2 - Abandonment Issues (Tattletale Interlude)
As Jack drops like a boneless doll I take stock of the situation.
Well. I have been in worse situations, but most of those were Coil related, in the vein of "there's a literal gun to my head".
I suppose it's at least a refreshing change that someone else is responsible for an imminent threat to my life for once.
… No. No it isn't. Fuck this.
I hold back the desire to kick Jack's prone body and turn towards the door, where the noises of approaching figures are starting to get louder. The son of a bitch had led me in here and left me alone. This is what I get for trusting someone else to come up with a plan.
Shit, we should have brought the whole group, we should have brought Taylor, she'd have this whole place filled with hornets and she could help me carry this bastard. When we get out of here I'm going to…
I shake my head. Get it together Tats.
Well, here goes nothing.
I start to grin. Sometimes, you can't do anything else.
Well then, that's something.
I push the button jack indicated on the 'gun' he gave me. Interesting thing, certainly has some heft, though it's oddly comfortable to hold considering its size. The glow from the barrel intensifies slightly, and I feel something moving in the dangerous end. I've set it for an area burst.
I duck down behind the table and wait.
About thirty seconds later, the door is pushed open and I can hear footsteps as the ABB goons pause, looking at the mess left from that idiot's tinkertech building… shit! I left Jack on the floor!
I poke my head out of the pile of overturned tables and chairs I'm hiding behind. The goons are gesturing at Jack and gibbering in some language I don't understand. Two begin to raise guns and one moves a hand to his belt for some kinda radio. Fuck what did Jack say about twitching?
Well, here goes nothing.
I point the gun over top of the table-pile. The glow turns red, and the gun seems to shift slightly in my grip to center on the goons.
Auto-aim feature built into weapon.
Well fuck, I'm sure glad I have a power to figure this shit out.
As the goons notice and start to yell, I pull the trigger. The gun seems to charge for a second and then with a strange sound fires a burst of blue energy!
The burst strikes the goons, and a blue lightning effect seems to travel up and down their forms. They begin convulsing and collapse to the floor. Luckily, none of their guns go off.
Well damn. This thing is actually pretty useful.
Scratch that, this is definitely going to crap out as soon as I need it most. I set the thing back to single target, which my power tells me gives me maybe 6 shots. Hopefully I won't need any more.
As I move towards Jack and throw an arm around his shoulder, I hear a voice coming from the unconscious goons. I turn quickly almost dropping Jack - who really needs to cut down on the brownies, fuck I thought he was a beanpole but he must weigh as much as Brian. Less muscle but more height. I'm barely up to his chin, I'd have to stand on my toes to…
Nevermind. Not important, shut up brain.
The bodies aren't moving luckily, but that radio on one of their belts is spitting something in Chinese, which probably means we need to move a while ago.
I start dragging him towards the door. Maybe my luck is starting to come around. That was actually pretty easy.
With a grunt and a gasp, I push Jack's body up against the wall. Fuck, I thought I was in shape, but hauling around…
...of somnolescent Tinker takes it out of you. Fuck.
I lean against the wall and slide down the the floor next to Jack. He seems to still be breathing fine, and his eyes are clearly moving under his eyelids. He's muttering something, but I can't really make it out, and I don't actually care enough to use my power to help. He's got a bit of a goofy smile on, I'm not sure if it's because of whatever drugs he slipped himself but it's a bit cute.
Doesn't make up for leaving me to do all the hard work. Asshole.
I take a deep breath and try to get my heart rate under control. Well, back to it.
I look around. We're in a back office, probably for one of the head researchers here. His code was the number of the room backwards - probably breaking about 10 different 'best practices' rules. So much for password security.
The room pretty much screams 'workaholic'. The only things up on the wall are degrees and awards. No pictures of family, no casual vacation photos, hell this guy doesn't even seem to have a dog. There are bookshelves full of binders and reference books, file cabinets, and a desk that looks like it costs more than the salary of most of the basic researchers. Plus a very nice chair. Aeron, looks like.
I sit in the chair. It's as comfortable as it looks. Fuck I needed this.
I put my feet up on the desk and start thinking. By which I of course mean I start Thinking.
So much for some casual industrial espionage.
Well then. That's something. I guess Jack wasn't just blowing smoke about that. E88 really is connected to Medhall. Fuck, no wonder they always seem to be so well equipped with much less profitable street crime than the ABB or Merchants. Their front company is the biggest non-government employer in the Bay!
Fuck. That might be our way out. How long would it take…
Fuck. That fast? How haven't they realized this place is under attack yet?
As the familiar headache begins to intrude on my brain I close the gates on my power. I guess it's time for small 't' thinking.
Ok, So I hit this switch and five minutes later this place becomes a gang battle. If this place is so important to E88, they'll come in force, and should be able to finish off the remaining ABB members quickly. I just need to get back to a door, and get the fuck out while the gettin' is good.
Only one important question left. Man I'm going to be beat after today.
The twinge becomes a throb and I groan. Fuck I've still gotta carry this asshole out. There will be a reckoning for this.
It will be grand. There may be newspaper headlines. Children will cry in the streets.
If I can manage it, it will be seen from orbit.
I slam the button and move to grab Jack. This is going to hurt. I haul him up onto the other shoulder, and drag him out of the room down the hall, holding the gun in my off hand. I'll have to drop him if I want to aim the damn thing, but fuck, he deserves a few bruises for this.
About three minutes later the gunfire starts. Looks like E88 is ahead of schedule.
I start hauling Jack down the hallways stopping most corners to check with my power and listen for any new arrivals. My headache gets worse and worse, and I begin to pant from the exertion in dragging him around as my eyes start to water from the pain. Luckily I find what must be their street clinic, and there's a wheelchair in there I manage to dump him into, which makes my life a lot easier.
I'm almost all the way to the back entrance now, and I haven't seen any other ABB or E88, though the gunfighting is still going on out front. This actually wasn't that hard.
Just as I turn what must be the second last corridor, the explosions start.
At first, I think that it must be a grenade. But the sounds and the screaming - it's clearly not just a normal grenade. Something strange is happening. I can hear something that sounds like fire, lightning, and a whistling wind. Behind me, the corridor is filling with frost, and my breath starts misting…
Shit. Bakuda bombs. Multiple bombs. How does she even have this many left after the shit they've been doing throughout town?
Oni Lee is on site. Oni Lee is armed with Bakuda explosives as grenades. Oni Lee is copying grenades. Clones maintain viable tinkertech for duration.
Oh fuck. That is bullsh….
Oni Lee appears in the hallway behind me for a moment, and I hear a clink as he drops something. Seconds later, the clone dissolves into dust.
I push the chair with all my might and take the last corner on one wheel. I can see the door ahead of me but…
There is a dull thud behind me and the air in the hallway becomes a raging windstorm. I can hear doors being pulled off of their hinges, and walls cracking as whatever explosion… or…
… Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I can feel my feet slipping on the floor. I push the wheelchair with all my might and jump at the last second to put my weight on the back, letting our momentum hopefully push us out of the effect. The wheelchair swings wildly as we approach the door, and just as we get close I can see the piece of ruptured door which is right in the way. I have a split second to understand exactly how fucked we are, and then the wheel hits it and I'm airborne.
I flip over the wheelchair, which turns on its side and wipes out. I fly out of the remains of the door and land hard on the pavement, only barely managing to roll. I feel something give in my side where I land, and my vision momentarily turns black from the pain.
Ugh…
I cough and spit blood. Shit I think I bit my tongue. A few seconds of checking leads me to believe I probably haven't punctured a lung, but goddamn I hurt.
I look back up.
The door is gone. The entire section of the building has collapsed inwards from the… whatever that was. The second floor is basically a ramp going upwards in contact with the ground. There must be a literal ton of building material right behind me, and somehow I wasn't crushed.
But fuck. Jack? Shit. He fell off the wheelchair.
He's not outside. He fell out inside the door. Where a ton of ceiling now sits.
I fucked up.
He's dead.
He's dead and it's my fault. I fucked up. He trusted me and I fucked up. Again. Just like Reggie.
I sit there staring at the wall for a long time. After a while, when I hear the sirens from the approaching fire trucks, and smell the smoke, I leave.
It takes me almost an hour to limp back to the lair. Every step is agony from the wound in my side, and my head is throbbing in tune with my heart beat. I stumble and cough blood into my hand, leaning up on the wall of an alley way and leaving a bloody handprint as I move by.
I basically collapse when I get inside.
When they ask, I tell them the tears are from the pain.
AN: I'm a dick.
On the plus side, I'm a real lawyer now. So that's a thing.
And look! A new chapter! You can call off the assassins.
1.T.2 - Abandonment Issues (Tattletale Interlude)
As Jack drops like a boneless doll I take stock of the situation.
- I'm in an E88 front company, at night, committing a robbery.
- My luck continues to be impeccable, as the same day I decide to do this, the ABB decides it's time to do a raid.
- My only companion in this poorly planned shitshow is currently lying on the floor bleeding from the skull and drooling from what seems to be a self-inflicted robo lobotomy. Fun.
- I have a single Tinkertech gun of some kind, a pile of tables and random junk Jack threw around when he was in build-mode to hide behind, and an unknown number of assailants armed with at least submachineguns.
- Last time I checked, I still wasn't bulletproof.
Well. I have been in worse situations, but most of those were Coil related, in the vein of "there's a literal gun to my head".
I suppose it's at least a refreshing change that someone else is responsible for an imminent threat to my life for once.
… No. No it isn't. Fuck this.
I hold back the desire to kick Jack's prone body and turn towards the door, where the noises of approaching figures are starting to get louder. The son of a bitch had led me in here and left me alone. This is what I get for trusting someone else to come up with a plan.
Shit, we should have brought the whole group, we should have brought Taylor, she'd have this whole place filled with hornets and she could help me carry this bastard. When we get out of here I'm going to…
I shake my head. Get it together Tats.
Well, here goes nothing.
I start to grin. Sometimes, you can't do anything else.
Three ABB members coming. Slight scent of cordite - armed with guns. Guns have been recently fired. There were guards in the building. Dead. ABB members walking casually - don't expect anything. Coming this way. Directed. Looking for something.
Well then, that's something.
I push the button jack indicated on the 'gun' he gave me. Interesting thing, certainly has some heft, though it's oddly comfortable to hold considering its size. The glow from the barrel intensifies slightly, and I feel something moving in the dangerous end. I've set it for an area burst.
I duck down behind the table and wait.
About thirty seconds later, the door is pushed open and I can hear footsteps as the ABB goons pause, looking at the mess left from that idiot's tinkertech building… shit! I left Jack on the floor!
I poke my head out of the pile of overturned tables and chairs I'm hiding behind. The goons are gesturing at Jack and gibbering in some language I don't understand. Two begin to raise guns and one moves a hand to his belt for some kinda radio. Fuck what did Jack say about twitching?
Well, here goes nothing.
I point the gun over top of the table-pile. The glow turns red, and the gun seems to shift slightly in my grip to center on the goons.
Auto-aim feature built into weapon.
Well fuck, I'm sure glad I have a power to figure this shit out.
As the goons notice and start to yell, I pull the trigger. The gun seems to charge for a second and then with a strange sound fires a burst of blue energy!
The burst strikes the goons, and a blue lightning effect seems to travel up and down their forms. They begin convulsing and collapse to the floor. Luckily, none of their guns go off.
Visual effect purely for show. Weapon has multiple vectors of effect: interrupts voluntary nerves, overloads pain receptors causing unconsciousness, causes overproduction of soporific hormones. Second or further shots on stunned targets extend effect, but risk of permanent or lethal damage from heart attack or hormone toxicity increases with repeated use.
Well damn. This thing is actually pretty useful.
Charge will be exhausted in two more shots at current level.
Scratch that, this is definitely going to crap out as soon as I need it most. I set the thing back to single target, which my power tells me gives me maybe 6 shots. Hopefully I won't need any more.
As I move towards Jack and throw an arm around his shoulder, I hear a voice coming from the unconscious goons. I turn quickly almost dropping Jack - who really needs to cut down on the brownies, fuck I thought he was a beanpole but he must weigh as much as Brian. Less muscle but more height. I'm barely up to his chin, I'd have to stand on my toes to…
Nevermind. Not important, shut up brain.
The bodies aren't moving luckily, but that radio on one of their belts is spitting something in Chinese, which probably means we need to move a while ago.
I start dragging him towards the door. Maybe my luck is starting to come around. That was actually pretty easy.
With a grunt and a gasp, I push Jack's body up against the wall. Fuck, I thought I was in shape, but hauling around…
88.5 kg
...of somnolescent Tinker takes it out of you. Fuck.
I lean against the wall and slide down the the floor next to Jack. He seems to still be breathing fine, and his eyes are clearly moving under his eyelids. He's muttering something, but I can't really make it out, and I don't actually care enough to use my power to help. He's got a bit of a goofy smile on, I'm not sure if it's because of whatever drugs he slipped himself but it's a bit cute.
Doesn't make up for leaving me to do all the hard work. Asshole.
I take a deep breath and try to get my heart rate under control. Well, back to it.
I look around. We're in a back office, probably for one of the head researchers here. His code was the number of the room backwards - probably breaking about 10 different 'best practices' rules. So much for password security.
The room pretty much screams 'workaholic'. The only things up on the wall are degrees and awards. No pictures of family, no casual vacation photos, hell this guy doesn't even seem to have a dog. There are bookshelves full of binders and reference books, file cabinets, and a desk that looks like it costs more than the salary of most of the basic researchers. Plus a very nice chair. Aeron, looks like.
I sit in the chair. It's as comfortable as it looks. Fuck I needed this.
I put my feet up on the desk and start thinking. By which I of course mean I start Thinking.
Computer is new. Powerful. Designed for use in research. Networked to the lab. Security measures tight. USB Key required for connection. Key not present.
So much for some casual industrial espionage.
Desk high quality. Plate on the corner. Dedication. "To Humber from Heller, excellent job on project 14." Phrases are coded. Slogans. Neo-nazi references: HH for names, 14 referencing neo-nazi symbolism. Owner is connected to E88.
Well then. That's something. I guess Jack wasn't just blowing smoke about that. E88 really is connected to Medhall. Fuck, no wonder they always seem to be so well equipped with much less profitable street crime than the ABB or Merchants. Their front company is the biggest non-government employer in the Bay!
Hidden alarm under desk. Alarm related to desk. Doesn't alter police. Silent alarm. Alerts E88.
Fuck. That might be our way out. How long would it take…
Alarm indicates location is important. Location performs research for Medhall but also functions as E88 street doctor location for fixing up gang members injured in clashes. Avoids hospital and questions. Important location.
Response to alarm within 5 minutes.
Response to alarm within 5 minutes.
Fuck. That fast? How haven't they realized this place is under attack yet?
Guards killed too quickly. Extra guards called off to begin preparations for attack on ABB.
As the familiar headache begins to intrude on my brain I close the gates on my power. I guess it's time for small 't' thinking.
Ok, So I hit this switch and five minutes later this place becomes a gang battle. If this place is so important to E88, they'll come in force, and should be able to finish off the remaining ABB members quickly. I just need to get back to a door, and get the fuck out while the gettin' is good.
Only one important question left. Man I'm going to be beat after today.
Reinforcements will come from north, E88 territory larger that direction. Will see ABB cars parked on street. Firefight will begin there, move in towards clinic. Rear exit will be free longest.
The twinge becomes a throb and I groan. Fuck I've still gotta carry this asshole out. There will be a reckoning for this.
It will be grand. There may be newspaper headlines. Children will cry in the streets.
If I can manage it, it will be seen from orbit.
I slam the button and move to grab Jack. This is going to hurt. I haul him up onto the other shoulder, and drag him out of the room down the hall, holding the gun in my off hand. I'll have to drop him if I want to aim the damn thing, but fuck, he deserves a few bruises for this.
About three minutes later the gunfire starts. Looks like E88 is ahead of schedule.
I start hauling Jack down the hallways stopping most corners to check with my power and listen for any new arrivals. My headache gets worse and worse, and I begin to pant from the exertion in dragging him around as my eyes start to water from the pain. Luckily I find what must be their street clinic, and there's a wheelchair in there I manage to dump him into, which makes my life a lot easier.
I'm almost all the way to the back entrance now, and I haven't seen any other ABB or E88, though the gunfighting is still going on out front. This actually wasn't that hard.
Just as I turn what must be the second last corridor, the explosions start.
At first, I think that it must be a grenade. But the sounds and the screaming - it's clearly not just a normal grenade. Something strange is happening. I can hear something that sounds like fire, lightning, and a whistling wind. Behind me, the corridor is filling with frost, and my breath starts misting…
Shit. Bakuda bombs. Multiple bombs. How does she even have this many left after the shit they've been doing throughout town?
Oni Lee is on site. Oni Lee is armed with Bakuda explosives as grenades. Oni Lee is copying grenades. Clones maintain viable tinkertech for duration.
Oh fuck. That is bullsh….
Oni Lee appears in the hallway behind me for a moment, and I hear a clink as he drops something. Seconds later, the clone dissolves into dust.
I push the chair with all my might and take the last corner on one wheel. I can see the door ahead of me but…
There is a dull thud behind me and the air in the hallway becomes a raging windstorm. I can hear doors being pulled off of their hinges, and walls cracking as whatever explosion… or…
Implosion.
… Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I can feel my feet slipping on the floor. I push the wheelchair with all my might and jump at the last second to put my weight on the back, letting our momentum hopefully push us out of the effect. The wheelchair swings wildly as we approach the door, and just as we get close I can see the piece of ruptured door which is right in the way. I have a split second to understand exactly how fucked we are, and then the wheel hits it and I'm airborne.
I flip over the wheelchair, which turns on its side and wipes out. I fly out of the remains of the door and land hard on the pavement, only barely managing to roll. I feel something give in my side where I land, and my vision momentarily turns black from the pain.
Four cracked ribs.
Ugh…
I cough and spit blood. Shit I think I bit my tongue. A few seconds of checking leads me to believe I probably haven't punctured a lung, but goddamn I hurt.
I look back up.
The door is gone. The entire section of the building has collapsed inwards from the… whatever that was. The second floor is basically a ramp going upwards in contact with the ground. There must be a literal ton of building material right behind me, and somehow I wasn't crushed.
But fuck. Jack? Shit. He fell off the wheelchair.
He's not outside. He fell out inside the door. Where a ton of ceiling now sits.
I fucked up.
He's dead.
He's dead and it's my fault. I fucked up. He trusted me and I fucked up. Again. Just like Reggie.
I sit there staring at the wall for a long time. After a while, when I hear the sirens from the approaching fire trucks, and smell the smoke, I leave.
It takes me almost an hour to limp back to the lair. Every step is agony from the wound in my side, and my head is throbbing in tune with my heart beat. I stumble and cough blood into my hand, leaning up on the wall of an alley way and leaving a bloody handprint as I move by.
I basically collapse when I get inside.
When they ask, I tell them the tears are from the pain.
AN: I'm a dick.
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2.1 Awakening
- Location
- Canada
Aww yeah, getting in just under the wire.
I did say this month! Plus, this is the biggest chapter I've ever written, over a whopping 5.5k words.
Again, this is unbeta'd, and I may go in and fix a few things later, but here's the latest chapter, back in the head of our protagonist. Please let me know if you spot any spelling/grammar errors as per usual.
2.1 Awakening
As I slowly return to consciousness, my head pounding. I let out a groan. My vision swims for a moment, and I have to hold down my gorge through sheer force of will as everything seems to sway for a moment before stabilizing. A rainbow of colors flash across my field of view, and my head seems to pulse and ache in patterns that I can't understand.
It feels sort of like someone is playing my head like a piano, only instead of fingers they are using a nailgun. This is usually a sign that I have made some poor life choices.
I hear a high pitched whining sound, and a consistent beeping coming from somewhere nearby. As my vision clears all I can see is a sort of off-white blur. White walls, white floors, white… sheets? A partially cracked window in the corner of the room lets in a slight breeze, and I can see dust lazily gliding through the sunbeams peeking through the blinds.
Constant beeping? White room? Sure enough, I turn to my left and I can see an IV going into my arm, and a variety of medical equipment attached to my person. I really hope randomly waking up in places I don't understand with a vague feeling of unease and a splitting headache doesn't become a trend. I'm 2/2 in the days I've been here so far, and I don't particularly like those odds.
Oh who am I kidding. I'm in Worm. This is child-tier trauma.
Now if only I could see anything, without my glasses I might as well be looking through a London fog, there's no chance I'll be able to clearly see...
My vision suddenly clears. A light blue text seems to superimpose itself on my vision.
BrainOS 2.0 Boot: Vision Enhancement Online
Huh. Well, I guess that.. Worked?
I look around the room again. It's a standard hospital room, slightly off-white walls with greenish curtains around my bed. I seem to have my own room for some reason, though it's fairly small, there has clearly been some accommodation for privacy. Did they perhaps flag me as a potential cape? I did have the beginnings of a mask on. It would make sense for them to have some kind of precaution for that.
Wait, which hospital am I in anyways? I'm going to be very unhappy if after all that I'm in some E88 doctor chop shop. What is the last thing that happened anyways?
Right, let's review: tinker fugue, Tattletale, building the BMI, worries about the Simurgh/Cauldron, and…
And...
… Ok, so this is a problem. I can remember building the Brain-Machine Interface. I remember building what was basically a Zat gun. I remember something about a fake bomb, and I can remember shoving the thing into the back of my head, and then… nothing.
Also I remember there being an important reason why I had to build this first, and that I expected something to happen afterwards, but I don't…
Ok, so my brain just gave me an error message when i tried to remember something. This is a problem. This is a serious problem. I may have made a big mistake. Did I just open my brainmeats up to direct hacking? Am I already compromised? Am...
Really, I couldn't find a better codec than...
My vision blanks for a second and I'm in a perfectly white blank space, which my BMI seems to have cribbed from the Matrix. Nothing but blankness in every direction, and the fact that I'm not standing on anything and yet also not feeling any anxiousness about standing on nothing is almost enough to trigger a sort of meta-anxiety. White walls, white floors, strangely non-standard lighting. Man, you'd think I'd be a bit more creative than that.
Breaking up the tyranny of blankness in every direction, a single figure is standing in front of me. It's… me. Only it's a slightly more blurry me, especially around the face, which seems to be sort of fuzzed just enough to be unable to make out any features, almost like seeing someone in fast forward on an old VHS tape.
Ok. There was definitely something there, but my brain just refused to process it. It was a noticeable absence of concept. The sound was just replaced by a.. no even a buzzing, like a non-sound. Incredibly jarring. This is incredibly frea..
Alright. I can accept that logic. This does make sense to me, though I am going to maintain my self-serving opinion that Past Me is a dick.
… Did a pre-recorded message just sass me based on my stream of consciousness thought?
Well, that existential terror wasn't gone long.
I'm fairly certain suffering is a fundamental element on Earth Bet, so I am not surprised.
And the bubble pops and I'm back in the hospital room again. The loading screen in my vision has cleared and I seem to have a full on heads up display now. On my left I can see an outline of my body, with several sections outlined in red.
It's at this point I realize that both of my legs are broken. This is quite strange, as I can't feel any pain whatsoever in that part of my body, I guess my power is suppressing pain but allowing through the signal? Or maybe it's the cyberbrain? This is going to get confusing.
Oh no wait, I just have a severed spinal cord.
Well, that explains it.
When I zoom in, the nanocytes are already working on the repairs in orders of priority. I get the sense that I could manually direct them for a greater efficiency boost, but it would require me making a conscious effort. With a thought, I can bring up an ETA: About 10 minutes remaining to restore my severed spinal cord, about 2 hours to something called "Peak Concentration" of the nanocytes themselves, and about 1.5 hours to restore my… quite shattered legs.
Huh, severed both femoral arteries in 3 places. If the nanocytes didn't allow for basically instant clotting, I'd have bled out in under a minute. That's... alarming.
Well, it's not a bad healing factor though. Not Wolverine level certainly, but there are other uses as well. As I scan through my body model, I can see that where the nanocytes are repairing they are also upgrading. The spinal cord is being optimized, and a new sheath is being made around the rear of the spine of carbon-fibre and some other biologically derived materials. I think some of that is spider's silk. Probably pinged off of Taylor's shard there.
And the arms, well, that part went off without a hitch. So at least something went to plan.
It's at this point I realize someone has been trying to get my attention for a while now. I realize this as I look up and the person is about to poke me in the cheek. I automatically raise my arm to interpose it without properly processing what the person is saying.
"I said, 'Do I have your permission to…'"
I look up, my eyes taking in the white costume with the red cross on the hood, the dark circles under the eyes, and the bushy hair peeking out from under the edges of the White Mage inspired hood, and realize exactly how awkward this is about to be a split-second before Panacea's finger makes contact with the skin on my arm.
I make eye contact with her, and her eyes bug out as she instantly sees all the changes that have happened in my body, all the various modifications and upgrades which have perpetrated through my system, and the millions of nanocytes themselves making their way throughout my body performing their tasks. The quick fixes, the long term projects only partially begun, the interface weaving its tendrils throughout my brain, poking into every node and nodule and wrapping lines of nanowire down my spinal cord.
I find I can actually feel her attention shifting between parts of my body, as her power perhaps subconsciously grips onto parts of my biology, and my power seems to push back and reaffirm its own control over my 'self' in response. I suspect I could prevent her from making any changes against my will as a side aspect of my own bodily control power. That's nifty, but hopefully will not be needed.
"I.. you… what?" she sputters as she continues, clearly fascinated, to examine me. She is currently looking directly at a nanocyte, zooming in to examine its genetic code, its molecular motors and the artificial ribosomes used to construct various enzymes and proteins.
I reach up and touch her arm with my other hand. She starts, pulling out of her vision, and her fascination turns to a slight rush of fear. I can sense the adrenaline spiking in her system and can see the start of the fight-or-flight response, though she tamps it down admirably. I've been clearly rumbled as a Parahuman, no chance of getting out of this one subtly. Time to try the diplomatic approach.
"I'm not going to hurt you, but you're about to reveal something you probably shouldn't.." I whisper to her, with my eyes motioning behind her, where a nurse and doctor appear to be eyeing us from behind her back, I'm assuming they are accompanying her on her rounds, standing in the doorway of my room with a set of clipboards and charts in their hands.
She starts for a moment and then seems to collect herself. I notice at this point all of the signs of fatigue that should have been more evident to me at the beginning. Mental fatigue, physical fatigue, and a burgeoning case of burnout waiting in the wings. All the neurotransmitter deficits, the blocked dopamine receptors, the chronic insomnia. Even without pre-knowledge as to her fate, this view of Panacea would have let me intuit what her life has been like up to know and where she is likely going if nothing changes.
How easy it would be to use the kind of information my power gives me to manipulate people... When you can see all of the stresses a body is enduring, and you know a bit about a person's life... well.
Wow, I never considered just how invasive my Thinker power is. At a glance, I can gather more information about a person than the Big Data firms of Earth Prime could get with years of constant surveillance. And I'd always been such a critic of that kind of spying.
Strange how things change. I find myself less worried about the information when I have it. Not surprising, but still slightly disappointing.
Panacea drops my arm and moves to the door to say something to the doctor and nurse. They seem to be insisting on something but she firmly rebuffs them, and after a few moments they seem to acquiesce and leave, closing the door behind them.
"Alright," Panacea begins, sitting in the chair next to my bed again. "Let's start over. My name is Panacea, I am a registered Parahuman healer under the Kyushu Accords, id #USA-00157. Do you know where you are?"
I look up at her and think for a moment before responding. "I am guessing I am in Brockton Bay General Hospital. How I got here is more of a mystery to me."
She nods and marks something down on a chart in front of her. Her hand is slightly shaking as she does so, but she turns to me again. "Do you know who you are? You came here with no identification, and you haven't shown up in any database."
I raise an eyebrow as I reply. "Well, as you've already noticed I have a reason for not carrying ID around wherever I go. For now, I'm a John Doe."
She snorts. "Not exactly the textbook reply, but if there was something wrong with your brain I'm not sure I'd even be able to tell with that… whatever that is in there. Honestly I'm not sure how you are even speaking." She notes something else on the sheet as she continues. "As you seem to be of sound mind, I am required to ask for your consent before healing you. Do you consent to being healed with a parahuman ability?" At this point she looks almost hopeful, clearly interested in taking another look at my bod… my enhancemen...
Is there a way to phrase this that doesn't sound absolutely filthy? I don't think there is. Moving on.
"Hmm," I respond "I'm starting to work on that myself, but I am certain you could get it done much faster. So, yes, please go ahead Panacea." I nod and motion for her to begin, raising my arm.
She hesitantly reaches out towards my arm, as if having an argument with herself, and then takes a deep breath and lightly touches my exposed hand. I'm immediately aware of her attention, which takes a quick survey of my whole body, and then seems to 'focus' on my spine. As I watch, the ripped parts of the spinal cord, which were being slowly reconnected by the nanocytes seem to surge and move by themselves. The cells have raw chemical energy dumped into them, and they seem to be doing things they should not be able to do: as I watch a set of cells decomposes a destroyed nerve cell, absorbs the remains, and then rapidly undergoes cell division at a hugely accelerated rate. Despite this speed, the DNA makes no transcription errors, and a new cell is quickly formed. This same process repeats ten, a hundred, a thousand, a million times across the damaged area, and in mere seconds the repair is complete. A rush of sensation surges into me as the nerves reconnect, chaotic and slightly painful, but only for a split second before the connection is forcefully normalized by Panacea's power.
The same kind of effect moves with Panacea's attention to my legs, reconnecting the severed flesh and repairing the bone. When it reaches the bone marrow however it seems to pause. I get the mental image of a deep breath, as if she is only now noticing the nanoplasm I've replaced by bone marrow with - the nanocytes production factory. All of the bones who have had their bone marrow replaced have begun upgrading nearby themselves as a matter of course, so the nanoplasm is taking in free carbon from my bloodstream and re-purposing it into thin fibers which it is infusing into the bone around it. The only reason my leg bones broke was because the process had not spread that far by the time I suffered whatever trauma happened to me while I was out.
Which reminds me, I should probably find out what happened there at some point. I hope Tattletale got out alright, though I am a little miffed she left me behind. I'll have to have a chat with her while I get out of here.
While Panacea is entranced by the nanocytes and attending to my healing, I open the file my Past Self indicated and peruse the 'Goal List' that he claims was optimized for our current situation.
...What?
Alright, how am I supposed to...
Can I even do that? That's gonna cost like a billion dollars in raw materials alone!
Well, Path to Victory this isn't, but on the off chance I'm not crazy, I don't really have much of a choice. I have to accept the claim that information has been removed to operational security. I know exactly how insidious Worm space whale magic can be, and it's probably better it remains in whatever mondo encrypted subset of storage its currently in.
Well, Step 1 is to make sure Panacea doesn't go crazy, so here goes nothing.
I look up and meet her gaze, which focuses on me when I begin to move, though she still has a quite astonished look on her face.
"I don't understand," Panacea says hesitantly. "How do they work? I can see them moving, and I get a sense of what they can do but… something is missing. The instructions in their DNA - clearly artificial DNA at that, no junk data, no evolutionary history - don't connect to what they are doing… and what is that blank space by the nucleus? It's like…"
I interrupt her reverie and speak, "Your power must be unable to recognize that part, but it's a microscopic quantum computer."
I pause, flexing a mental muscle and ordering a group of nanocytes into a rough, cellular scale approximation of her name. Her eyes widen as she notices.
"It's the one thing that prevents the Gen 1 nanocytes from being a truly free-replicating colony, primarily because of the low quality materials I was forced to use to make them. The QPU in each unit contains a small transmitter, which connects to my central processor. " I tap myself on the head, indicating my BMI.
"This both allows the nanocytes to be directly controlled, and also allows them to network together, distributing processing power among both the entire swarm and my own unused mental processes. Because of this, they actually function much faster while I'm unconscious or asleep, or in a similar state of mental calm. However, the machinery is relatively crude, and the nanocytes are unable to replicate it themselves. They can scavenge it from damaged or destroyed nanocytes, but the machinery required to properly create it is microscale, too large for individual cells. That's what the nanoplasm is for. Aside from taking the place of my bone marrow, it also produces the required parts for nanocytes, as well as serving as extra factory space for any larger scale biochemical engineering. Each bone in my body has a larger multicelled QPU which connects to my biological network in the same manner, adding to the total processing power and allowing for multiple redundant sources of any chemical or biological compound. As a background process, they also produce a large amount of pluripotent stem cells, which are being stored in a small sack where my appendix used to be."
I pause. "Or at least, it will when the process is complete. It should take another 2 hours or so for the nanoplasm to penetrate my remaining bones."
As I explain, I can see Panacea's excitement as her internal view shifts to follow the different areas I describe, blurring around the edges of the technology.
I think she's getting ideas. That could be good or bad.
She looks up. "So, these things function as tiny remote control robots, going around your body fixing things?"
I smile as I respond, shifting my body as the healing sets in. I move to remove the IV and straighten to sit up in the bed. She starts, realizing she is still holding my shoulder, but seems hesitant to let go. I finish sitting up, and touch her wrist as I do.
Microscale holes in the epidermis of my fingers open as I make contact, and I gingerly push a hundred or so nanocytes through onto Panacea's skin as I do, the outer layer of the nanocytes generating a thin skin of dimethyl sulfoxide, allowing them to penetrate beneath her skin and into her bloodstream.
Where they are immediately focused on and atomized by her power. Huh. Right, I remember something about her having an automatic response to invasive biological contaminants. This was perhaps not my finest moment.
To be fair, I am still recovering from invasive self-inflicted brain surgery.
She jolts and pulls her hand back, glaring at me accusingly. I hold both my hands up in the air in the standard surrender gesture.
"Just a demonstration, I was going to show how they could be used to heal others as well, didn't expect the instant counter. To be fair, it probably would have been useful to have someone able to heal the superhealer. I understand your powers don't work on yourself." I put on a contrite look as I remain there for a moment, hands dropping.
Panacea softens for a moment, but retains a slight suspicious look.
Then I turn my hair green. It takes a moment for the change to propagate outward, the nanocytes generating and delivering the precisely correct chemical to remove and replace the existing dye in the follicles. She watches as it occurs, her eyes widening as I move in waves, changing from green to blue, to red, to violet, and back to my natural brown.
"As you can see," I say, as my hair finishes its change, "They can do more than just heal. They can also change, modify, and enhance. Just like you can."
She stares for a moment, and then realizes what I have said. "How did you…"
"Well," I reply, "I could say that I have a Thinker power which let me figure it out, which would be partially true. I observed you while you were fixing my injuries, and it wasn't just healing. Powers are wonky, but that was more than just healing, you have the ability to understand and focus on certain area, making changes as you go. It's not an automatic process, you have to have control and be able to make changes for that to work. You're a biokinetic, not a healer."
Her face falls as I speak, her breath coming in shorter gasps. I can tell she's starting to panic slightly, her stress levels are rising, and her adrenaline is spiking. This next part is going to be dicey.
"Panacea, calm down." I say in a calm voice, speaking softly but firmly. "I'm not going to tell anyone. Hell, I can do the same kind of thing after a fashion, I'm certainly not going to fault you for your powers. I'm a biotinker. You think you've got a Nilbog sized stereotype looming over your head? I've got a little psychopath in pigtails over mine, and I'm not even sure which has the worse body count. I understand your fear, but you can't let it control you."
Her face distorts into a rictus of anger and pain, as she angrily replies. "And what do you know about it? You don't live with a woman who is always looking at you like she expects you to turn out evil, who never once asks how your day went, who knows - who must know - that you spend your every waking hour worrying that you aren't doing enough to help people, and who offers no support!"
She starts pacing the room. "You don't have a man who claims to be your father, but who can barely get out of bed most mornings. Who, although it isn't his fault entirely, notices you even less than the woman who claims to be your mother."
All at once the fury seems to leave her and she seems to almost collapse into the chair by the bed, the rage giving way entirely to despair. "You don't have a wonderful sister, who is as infuriating as she is perfect. Who gets all of the attention, all of the love. Who never notices how sick you are just staying in her shadow. Who…"
She pauses for a moment and looks up, meeting my eyes. "How can you know?"
I sit up in the bed, moving my now function legs over the side to sit on the edge of the bed facing her in her chair. "I can't know much about you, not in that way. I can see the stresses your body is under, I can identify the precursors to burnout disorder, the lack of sleep, the stress hormones, all the biological factors to your current condition, but I can't simulate your own personal experience. I can't know how it is to be you any more than any other human being can know the internal thoughts of another. Only standard empathy here, nothing supernatural."
I speak firmly now, emulating her own professional-sounding voice earlier, the kind of voice that doctors, lawyers and other professionals are trained to adopt within their own spheres of influence, which makes people sit up and take notice of what they are saying.
"I am however, perhaps the world's foremost expert on how powers interact with the human brain, with the notable exception of perhaps one other person, but it's unlikely she is going to show up to give you a consultation.
"Powers.. they are not sentient, not really, but they do have a goalset. In the same way that biological beings wish to live, eat, and reproduce, powers have a set of values, and they can use the connections they have to the host's brain, the Corona Pollentia and the Gemma, to subtly influence their hosts in order to accomplish their goals." I gesture towards my and her heads to indicate the locations of the Gemma and Polentia.
"You've probably noticed this before, at least sub-consciously, but powers want to be used. And not just used, but used often, creatively, and most importantly in conflict. All powers have some kind of application to some kind of conflict generating behavior, most commonly combat, and they push their hosts subconsciously to fulfill that need to be used. You've probably seen Glory Girl, after a few days without a fight, get antsy and go out on a solo patrol to pick a fight with some gangers. That ansty behaviour and the desire for conflict is what is driving her to do so."
I pause for a moment and bring a hand up to my chin as if thinking. "I have a feeling that may be why so many parahumans end up in the villain camp. It's harder to be seen as a hero when your power drives you to reckless combat. I think some powers have a harsher conflict drive than others, but I suspect someone like Glory Girl might have found herself labelled a villain early on if she arose in different circumstances and not as part of an existing Hero cape family. She's lucky to have you there to clean up her mistakes."
I drop my hand and turn back to Panacea. She seems to want to say something so I pause and wait for her to respond.
"I'm not..." she pauses. "It makes... sense a bit. I do get the urges sometimes to.. to do more. But I can't let myself. I have rules. If I broke those rules I.. how could I stop? How could I be stopped if I went too far?"
She looks at me with haunted eyes. "Nilbog, they thought he was dangerous. I could eat Nilbog for breakfast. You don't understand, nobody does. I'm not as personally powerful as most class S threats, but all it would take is a split second's thought, a moment's break, and I could kill millions. Maybe billions. It's too much. Too much power for me. I can't.. i can't handle it..."
I reach over, hesitantly at first, then firmly, and I take her hand. She tries to pull away, but I hold firm. "I think you can. I think people should be judged based on what they have done, not on what their potential for destruction could be. Your actions speak for you. You are the kind of person who, when given the power to do anything, spends most of her time helping people. Yes, your reasons for that were perhaps influenced by your frankly abysmal family life, yes, you've had passing thoughts about doing differently, you may even have fantasized about it."
I stare into her eyes and emphasize clearly. "But you have. Not. Done it. You've had hundreds, thousands of opportunities, you've never used your powers for evil. Even when sorely pressed, even despite the stress and the pain, and the sorrow which you deal with day after day, and the pressure from your power to do more, you've relented." I pause smiling. "That doesn't sound like someone too weak to deal with the power. To me, that sounds like someone who is strong. Someone who holds up even under immense pressure that would crush someone twice your age. Adult doctors with perfect home lives and half your responsibility level regularly fail under much lower stresses than you are dealing with at this moment."
"You're not weak Panacea, you're stronger than you think."
I hold that pose for a few seconds, and wait for her response.
I don't expect a laugh, but that's what I get.
It starts small, just a slight exhale, and then it starts to grow into a giggle, and then the dam breaks, leading to full on laughter tumbling forth like a river held back for far too long.
It's contagious, and despite the sudden tonal shift, I end up laughing myself as well. I can see her amusement, though not where it is coming from. And that seems to make it even more contagious.
After a few minutes we settle down, her haunted eyes replaced by those red with tears from the laughter. She smiles at me.
"You're a bit of an idiot you know? Who even talks like that? You speak like you're some hero in a television show, trying to convince a friend to stand and fight. So dramatic." She giggles again, and has to pause to wipe her eyes with the tissues on the table by the bed.
I smile slightly at that. "Alright, perhaps a bit much, but it was all true anyways. That's what I honestly believe Panacea."
"Amy."
I pause. "What?"
"Call me Amy. It feels weird to have this conversation about Panacea. Panacea doesn't have conversations like this. Panacea just heals." She stops for a moment and sits back in the chair, her head tiliting back to look at the ceiling. "Panacea doesn't consider... doesn't consider doing anything different. Panacea has rules, because she can't be trusted without them."
I speak up. "Panacea is just someone you can be. You don't have to be her. You can be Amy if you want to." She hesitantly nods. Still smiling wanly.
I hold out my hand as if to shake. "It's nice to meet you Amy. I'm Jack."
She takes my hand.
Well, that went better than I thought it would.
"Now, I'd like to talk more about this, but I'm guessing that the doctors are either suspicious or are figuring out now than I'm a parahuman, and I suspect that some kind of call is going to go out to the Protectorate if you don't confirm I haven't Mastered you or something."
Amy nods. "Part of the procedure when an unknown parahuman is brought in. Your wounds should have killed you, so you were marked as a potential new trigger and brought to a private room. There are actually several PRT agents posted outside, and Armsmaster is on call to come over if anything happens. Plus everyone knows that harming a healer acting under the Kyushu Accords is pretty much an automatic Kill Order, so usually we deal with this without incident."
I stop for a moment and think. I don't remember anything about a 'Kyushu Accord' in canon. Is this something unique here or was it just never mentioned? Admittedly we mostly saw Panacea at her worst in canon, and my memory isn't perfect, but still. I'll have to get a copy of that when I get access to the internet.
Come to think of it, why don't I have access... Ah, the room, maybe the whole hospital is an air-gapped Faraday Cage. In a world with black hat hacker Tinkers, that's just common sense.
I turn back to Amy. "Alright. Well i have an idea to both help with your power-induced ennui and help me make a good impression on the Protectorate, and also perhaps help a bit with your home life. I'll just need your help with a few things..."
Amy seems to perk up as she realizes what I mean. "You want me to make something?"
I smile. "Well, really I was thinking more of a collaboration..."
End 2.1
I did say this month! Plus, this is the biggest chapter I've ever written, over a whopping 5.5k words.
Again, this is unbeta'd, and I may go in and fix a few things later, but here's the latest chapter, back in the head of our protagonist. Please let me know if you spot any spelling/grammar errors as per usual.
2.1 Awakening
As I slowly return to consciousness, my head pounding. I let out a groan. My vision swims for a moment, and I have to hold down my gorge through sheer force of will as everything seems to sway for a moment before stabilizing. A rainbow of colors flash across my field of view, and my head seems to pulse and ache in patterns that I can't understand.
It feels sort of like someone is playing my head like a piano, only instead of fingers they are using a nailgun. This is usually a sign that I have made some poor life choices.
I hear a high pitched whining sound, and a consistent beeping coming from somewhere nearby. As my vision clears all I can see is a sort of off-white blur. White walls, white floors, white… sheets? A partially cracked window in the corner of the room lets in a slight breeze, and I can see dust lazily gliding through the sunbeams peeking through the blinds.
Constant beeping? White room? Sure enough, I turn to my left and I can see an IV going into my arm, and a variety of medical equipment attached to my person. I really hope randomly waking up in places I don't understand with a vague feeling of unease and a splitting headache doesn't become a trend. I'm 2/2 in the days I've been here so far, and I don't particularly like those odds.
Oh who am I kidding. I'm in Worm. This is child-tier trauma.
Now if only I could see anything, without my glasses I might as well be looking through a London fog, there's no chance I'll be able to clearly see...
My vision suddenly clears. A light blue text seems to superimpose itself on my vision.
BrainOS 2.0 Boot: Vision Enhancement Online
I look around the room again. It's a standard hospital room, slightly off-white walls with greenish curtains around my bed. I seem to have my own room for some reason, though it's fairly small, there has clearly been some accommodation for privacy. Did they perhaps flag me as a potential cape? I did have the beginnings of a mask on. It would make sense for them to have some kind of precaution for that.
Wait, which hospital am I in anyways? I'm going to be very unhappy if after all that I'm in some E88 doctor chop shop. What is the last thing that happened anyways?
Right, let's review: tinker fugue, Tattletale, building the BMI, worries about the Simurgh/Cauldron, and…
And...
… Ok, so this is a problem. I can remember building the Brain-Machine Interface. I remember building what was basically a Zat gun. I remember something about a fake bomb, and I can remember shoving the thing into the back of my head, and then… nothing.
Also I remember there being an important reason why I had to build this first, and that I expected something to happen afterwards, but I don't…
Access Denied.
Ok, so my brain just gave me an error message when i tried to remember something. This is a problem. This is a serious problem. I may have made a big mistake. Did I just open my brainmeats up to direct hacking? Am I already compromised? Am...
Playing "Dontpanic.avi"
Really, I couldn't find a better codec than...
My vision blanks for a second and I'm in a perfectly white blank space, which my BMI seems to have cribbed from the Matrix. Nothing but blankness in every direction, and the fact that I'm not standing on anything and yet also not feeling any anxiousness about standing on nothing is almost enough to trigger a sort of meta-anxiety. White walls, white floors, strangely non-standard lighting. Man, you'd think I'd be a bit more creative than that.
Breaking up the tyranny of blankness in every direction, a single figure is standing in front of me. It's… me. Only it's a slightly more blurry me, especially around the face, which seems to be sort of fuzzed just enough to be unable to make out any features, almost like seeing someone in fast forward on an old VHS tape.
"Hey. So, if you've triggered this, you've noticed that you can't remember things about ________."
Ok. There was definitely something there, but my brain just refused to process it. It was a noticeable absence of concept. The sound was just replaced by a.. no even a buzzing, like a non-sound. Incredibly jarring. This is incredibly frea..
"Stop Panicking. This was part of the plan. Yes Worm doesn't really have psychics in the literal sense, but we know that the Simurgh at least can read and alter brainmeat so as to have effectively no difference. This is operational security. You can't give away, even involuntarily what you don't know, and we know exactly how important this thing is."
Alright. I can accept that logic. This does make sense to me, though I am going to maintain my self-serving opinion that Past Me is a dick.
"Yeah, I'm not too fond of this either, but it has to be done. Also, fuck you too buddy."
… Did a pre-recorded message just sass me based on my stream of consciousness thought?
Well, that existential terror wasn't gone long.
"Ok look, what I can tell you is in a file called 'Goalset', the BMI should bring it up. We have had some time to think clearly, and the priority list there should be able to walk you through what we have to accomplish in the short and long terms. I won't lie to you, it's going to suck."
I'm fairly certain suffering is a fundamental element on Earth Bet, so I am not surprised.
"I'll get back to you on that. However you should probably pay attention, someone is knocking on the door."
Ok, there is no way you could…And the bubble pops and I'm back in the hospital room again. The loading screen in my vision has cleared and I seem to have a full on heads up display now. On my left I can see an outline of my body, with several sections outlined in red.
It's at this point I realize that both of my legs are broken. This is quite strange, as I can't feel any pain whatsoever in that part of my body, I guess my power is suppressing pain but allowing through the signal? Or maybe it's the cyberbrain? This is going to get confusing.
Oh no wait, I just have a severed spinal cord.
Well, that explains it.
When I zoom in, the nanocytes are already working on the repairs in orders of priority. I get the sense that I could manually direct them for a greater efficiency boost, but it would require me making a conscious effort. With a thought, I can bring up an ETA: About 10 minutes remaining to restore my severed spinal cord, about 2 hours to something called "Peak Concentration" of the nanocytes themselves, and about 1.5 hours to restore my… quite shattered legs.
Huh, severed both femoral arteries in 3 places. If the nanocytes didn't allow for basically instant clotting, I'd have bled out in under a minute. That's... alarming.
Well, it's not a bad healing factor though. Not Wolverine level certainly, but there are other uses as well. As I scan through my body model, I can see that where the nanocytes are repairing they are also upgrading. The spinal cord is being optimized, and a new sheath is being made around the rear of the spine of carbon-fibre and some other biologically derived materials. I think some of that is spider's silk. Probably pinged off of Taylor's shard there.
And the arms, well, that part went off without a hitch. So at least something went to plan.
It's at this point I realize someone has been trying to get my attention for a while now. I realize this as I look up and the person is about to poke me in the cheek. I automatically raise my arm to interpose it without properly processing what the person is saying.
"I said, 'Do I have your permission to…'"
I look up, my eyes taking in the white costume with the red cross on the hood, the dark circles under the eyes, and the bushy hair peeking out from under the edges of the White Mage inspired hood, and realize exactly how awkward this is about to be a split-second before Panacea's finger makes contact with the skin on my arm.
I make eye contact with her, and her eyes bug out as she instantly sees all the changes that have happened in my body, all the various modifications and upgrades which have perpetrated through my system, and the millions of nanocytes themselves making their way throughout my body performing their tasks. The quick fixes, the long term projects only partially begun, the interface weaving its tendrils throughout my brain, poking into every node and nodule and wrapping lines of nanowire down my spinal cord.
I find I can actually feel her attention shifting between parts of my body, as her power perhaps subconsciously grips onto parts of my biology, and my power seems to push back and reaffirm its own control over my 'self' in response. I suspect I could prevent her from making any changes against my will as a side aspect of my own bodily control power. That's nifty, but hopefully will not be needed.
"I.. you… what?" she sputters as she continues, clearly fascinated, to examine me. She is currently looking directly at a nanocyte, zooming in to examine its genetic code, its molecular motors and the artificial ribosomes used to construct various enzymes and proteins.
I reach up and touch her arm with my other hand. She starts, pulling out of her vision, and her fascination turns to a slight rush of fear. I can sense the adrenaline spiking in her system and can see the start of the fight-or-flight response, though she tamps it down admirably. I've been clearly rumbled as a Parahuman, no chance of getting out of this one subtly. Time to try the diplomatic approach.
"I'm not going to hurt you, but you're about to reveal something you probably shouldn't.." I whisper to her, with my eyes motioning behind her, where a nurse and doctor appear to be eyeing us from behind her back, I'm assuming they are accompanying her on her rounds, standing in the doorway of my room with a set of clipboards and charts in their hands.
She starts for a moment and then seems to collect herself. I notice at this point all of the signs of fatigue that should have been more evident to me at the beginning. Mental fatigue, physical fatigue, and a burgeoning case of burnout waiting in the wings. All the neurotransmitter deficits, the blocked dopamine receptors, the chronic insomnia. Even without pre-knowledge as to her fate, this view of Panacea would have let me intuit what her life has been like up to know and where she is likely going if nothing changes.
How easy it would be to use the kind of information my power gives me to manipulate people... When you can see all of the stresses a body is enduring, and you know a bit about a person's life... well.
Wow, I never considered just how invasive my Thinker power is. At a glance, I can gather more information about a person than the Big Data firms of Earth Prime could get with years of constant surveillance. And I'd always been such a critic of that kind of spying.
Strange how things change. I find myself less worried about the information when I have it. Not surprising, but still slightly disappointing.
Panacea drops my arm and moves to the door to say something to the doctor and nurse. They seem to be insisting on something but she firmly rebuffs them, and after a few moments they seem to acquiesce and leave, closing the door behind them.
"Alright," Panacea begins, sitting in the chair next to my bed again. "Let's start over. My name is Panacea, I am a registered Parahuman healer under the Kyushu Accords, id #USA-00157. Do you know where you are?"
I look up at her and think for a moment before responding. "I am guessing I am in Brockton Bay General Hospital. How I got here is more of a mystery to me."
She nods and marks something down on a chart in front of her. Her hand is slightly shaking as she does so, but she turns to me again. "Do you know who you are? You came here with no identification, and you haven't shown up in any database."
I raise an eyebrow as I reply. "Well, as you've already noticed I have a reason for not carrying ID around wherever I go. For now, I'm a John Doe."
She snorts. "Not exactly the textbook reply, but if there was something wrong with your brain I'm not sure I'd even be able to tell with that… whatever that is in there. Honestly I'm not sure how you are even speaking." She notes something else on the sheet as she continues. "As you seem to be of sound mind, I am required to ask for your consent before healing you. Do you consent to being healed with a parahuman ability?" At this point she looks almost hopeful, clearly interested in taking another look at my bod… my enhancemen...
Is there a way to phrase this that doesn't sound absolutely filthy? I don't think there is. Moving on.
"Hmm," I respond "I'm starting to work on that myself, but I am certain you could get it done much faster. So, yes, please go ahead Panacea." I nod and motion for her to begin, raising my arm.
She hesitantly reaches out towards my arm, as if having an argument with herself, and then takes a deep breath and lightly touches my exposed hand. I'm immediately aware of her attention, which takes a quick survey of my whole body, and then seems to 'focus' on my spine. As I watch, the ripped parts of the spinal cord, which were being slowly reconnected by the nanocytes seem to surge and move by themselves. The cells have raw chemical energy dumped into them, and they seem to be doing things they should not be able to do: as I watch a set of cells decomposes a destroyed nerve cell, absorbs the remains, and then rapidly undergoes cell division at a hugely accelerated rate. Despite this speed, the DNA makes no transcription errors, and a new cell is quickly formed. This same process repeats ten, a hundred, a thousand, a million times across the damaged area, and in mere seconds the repair is complete. A rush of sensation surges into me as the nerves reconnect, chaotic and slightly painful, but only for a split second before the connection is forcefully normalized by Panacea's power.
The same kind of effect moves with Panacea's attention to my legs, reconnecting the severed flesh and repairing the bone. When it reaches the bone marrow however it seems to pause. I get the mental image of a deep breath, as if she is only now noticing the nanoplasm I've replaced by bone marrow with - the nanocytes production factory. All of the bones who have had their bone marrow replaced have begun upgrading nearby themselves as a matter of course, so the nanoplasm is taking in free carbon from my bloodstream and re-purposing it into thin fibers which it is infusing into the bone around it. The only reason my leg bones broke was because the process had not spread that far by the time I suffered whatever trauma happened to me while I was out.
Which reminds me, I should probably find out what happened there at some point. I hope Tattletale got out alright, though I am a little miffed she left me behind. I'll have to have a chat with her while I get out of here.
While Panacea is entranced by the nanocytes and attending to my healing, I open the file my Past Self indicated and peruse the 'Goal List' that he claims was optimized for our current situation.
...What?
Alright, how am I supposed to...
Can I even do that? That's gonna cost like a billion dollars in raw materials alone!
Well, Path to Victory this isn't, but on the off chance I'm not crazy, I don't really have much of a choice. I have to accept the claim that information has been removed to operational security. I know exactly how insidious Worm space whale magic can be, and it's probably better it remains in whatever mondo encrypted subset of storage its currently in.
Well, Step 1 is to make sure Panacea doesn't go crazy, so here goes nothing.
I look up and meet her gaze, which focuses on me when I begin to move, though she still has a quite astonished look on her face.
"I don't understand," Panacea says hesitantly. "How do they work? I can see them moving, and I get a sense of what they can do but… something is missing. The instructions in their DNA - clearly artificial DNA at that, no junk data, no evolutionary history - don't connect to what they are doing… and what is that blank space by the nucleus? It's like…"
I interrupt her reverie and speak, "Your power must be unable to recognize that part, but it's a microscopic quantum computer."
I pause, flexing a mental muscle and ordering a group of nanocytes into a rough, cellular scale approximation of her name. Her eyes widen as she notices.
"It's the one thing that prevents the Gen 1 nanocytes from being a truly free-replicating colony, primarily because of the low quality materials I was forced to use to make them. The QPU in each unit contains a small transmitter, which connects to my central processor. " I tap myself on the head, indicating my BMI.
"This both allows the nanocytes to be directly controlled, and also allows them to network together, distributing processing power among both the entire swarm and my own unused mental processes. Because of this, they actually function much faster while I'm unconscious or asleep, or in a similar state of mental calm. However, the machinery is relatively crude, and the nanocytes are unable to replicate it themselves. They can scavenge it from damaged or destroyed nanocytes, but the machinery required to properly create it is microscale, too large for individual cells. That's what the nanoplasm is for. Aside from taking the place of my bone marrow, it also produces the required parts for nanocytes, as well as serving as extra factory space for any larger scale biochemical engineering. Each bone in my body has a larger multicelled QPU which connects to my biological network in the same manner, adding to the total processing power and allowing for multiple redundant sources of any chemical or biological compound. As a background process, they also produce a large amount of pluripotent stem cells, which are being stored in a small sack where my appendix used to be."
I pause. "Or at least, it will when the process is complete. It should take another 2 hours or so for the nanoplasm to penetrate my remaining bones."
As I explain, I can see Panacea's excitement as her internal view shifts to follow the different areas I describe, blurring around the edges of the technology.
I think she's getting ideas. That could be good or bad.
She looks up. "So, these things function as tiny remote control robots, going around your body fixing things?"
I smile as I respond, shifting my body as the healing sets in. I move to remove the IV and straighten to sit up in the bed. She starts, realizing she is still holding my shoulder, but seems hesitant to let go. I finish sitting up, and touch her wrist as I do.
Microscale holes in the epidermis of my fingers open as I make contact, and I gingerly push a hundred or so nanocytes through onto Panacea's skin as I do, the outer layer of the nanocytes generating a thin skin of dimethyl sulfoxide, allowing them to penetrate beneath her skin and into her bloodstream.
Where they are immediately focused on and atomized by her power. Huh. Right, I remember something about her having an automatic response to invasive biological contaminants. This was perhaps not my finest moment.
To be fair, I am still recovering from invasive self-inflicted brain surgery.
She jolts and pulls her hand back, glaring at me accusingly. I hold both my hands up in the air in the standard surrender gesture.
"Just a demonstration, I was going to show how they could be used to heal others as well, didn't expect the instant counter. To be fair, it probably would have been useful to have someone able to heal the superhealer. I understand your powers don't work on yourself." I put on a contrite look as I remain there for a moment, hands dropping.
Panacea softens for a moment, but retains a slight suspicious look.
Then I turn my hair green. It takes a moment for the change to propagate outward, the nanocytes generating and delivering the precisely correct chemical to remove and replace the existing dye in the follicles. She watches as it occurs, her eyes widening as I move in waves, changing from green to blue, to red, to violet, and back to my natural brown.
"As you can see," I say, as my hair finishes its change, "They can do more than just heal. They can also change, modify, and enhance. Just like you can."
She stares for a moment, and then realizes what I have said. "How did you…"
"Well," I reply, "I could say that I have a Thinker power which let me figure it out, which would be partially true. I observed you while you were fixing my injuries, and it wasn't just healing. Powers are wonky, but that was more than just healing, you have the ability to understand and focus on certain area, making changes as you go. It's not an automatic process, you have to have control and be able to make changes for that to work. You're a biokinetic, not a healer."
Her face falls as I speak, her breath coming in shorter gasps. I can tell she's starting to panic slightly, her stress levels are rising, and her adrenaline is spiking. This next part is going to be dicey.
"Panacea, calm down." I say in a calm voice, speaking softly but firmly. "I'm not going to tell anyone. Hell, I can do the same kind of thing after a fashion, I'm certainly not going to fault you for your powers. I'm a biotinker. You think you've got a Nilbog sized stereotype looming over your head? I've got a little psychopath in pigtails over mine, and I'm not even sure which has the worse body count. I understand your fear, but you can't let it control you."
Her face distorts into a rictus of anger and pain, as she angrily replies. "And what do you know about it? You don't live with a woman who is always looking at you like she expects you to turn out evil, who never once asks how your day went, who knows - who must know - that you spend your every waking hour worrying that you aren't doing enough to help people, and who offers no support!"
She starts pacing the room. "You don't have a man who claims to be your father, but who can barely get out of bed most mornings. Who, although it isn't his fault entirely, notices you even less than the woman who claims to be your mother."
All at once the fury seems to leave her and she seems to almost collapse into the chair by the bed, the rage giving way entirely to despair. "You don't have a wonderful sister, who is as infuriating as she is perfect. Who gets all of the attention, all of the love. Who never notices how sick you are just staying in her shadow. Who…"
She pauses for a moment and looks up, meeting my eyes. "How can you know?"
I sit up in the bed, moving my now function legs over the side to sit on the edge of the bed facing her in her chair. "I can't know much about you, not in that way. I can see the stresses your body is under, I can identify the precursors to burnout disorder, the lack of sleep, the stress hormones, all the biological factors to your current condition, but I can't simulate your own personal experience. I can't know how it is to be you any more than any other human being can know the internal thoughts of another. Only standard empathy here, nothing supernatural."
I speak firmly now, emulating her own professional-sounding voice earlier, the kind of voice that doctors, lawyers and other professionals are trained to adopt within their own spheres of influence, which makes people sit up and take notice of what they are saying.
"I am however, perhaps the world's foremost expert on how powers interact with the human brain, with the notable exception of perhaps one other person, but it's unlikely she is going to show up to give you a consultation.
"Powers.. they are not sentient, not really, but they do have a goalset. In the same way that biological beings wish to live, eat, and reproduce, powers have a set of values, and they can use the connections they have to the host's brain, the Corona Pollentia and the Gemma, to subtly influence their hosts in order to accomplish their goals." I gesture towards my and her heads to indicate the locations of the Gemma and Polentia.
"You've probably noticed this before, at least sub-consciously, but powers want to be used. And not just used, but used often, creatively, and most importantly in conflict. All powers have some kind of application to some kind of conflict generating behavior, most commonly combat, and they push their hosts subconsciously to fulfill that need to be used. You've probably seen Glory Girl, after a few days without a fight, get antsy and go out on a solo patrol to pick a fight with some gangers. That ansty behaviour and the desire for conflict is what is driving her to do so."
I pause for a moment and bring a hand up to my chin as if thinking. "I have a feeling that may be why so many parahumans end up in the villain camp. It's harder to be seen as a hero when your power drives you to reckless combat. I think some powers have a harsher conflict drive than others, but I suspect someone like Glory Girl might have found herself labelled a villain early on if she arose in different circumstances and not as part of an existing Hero cape family. She's lucky to have you there to clean up her mistakes."
I drop my hand and turn back to Panacea. She seems to want to say something so I pause and wait for her to respond.
"I'm not..." she pauses. "It makes... sense a bit. I do get the urges sometimes to.. to do more. But I can't let myself. I have rules. If I broke those rules I.. how could I stop? How could I be stopped if I went too far?"
She looks at me with haunted eyes. "Nilbog, they thought he was dangerous. I could eat Nilbog for breakfast. You don't understand, nobody does. I'm not as personally powerful as most class S threats, but all it would take is a split second's thought, a moment's break, and I could kill millions. Maybe billions. It's too much. Too much power for me. I can't.. i can't handle it..."
I reach over, hesitantly at first, then firmly, and I take her hand. She tries to pull away, but I hold firm. "I think you can. I think people should be judged based on what they have done, not on what their potential for destruction could be. Your actions speak for you. You are the kind of person who, when given the power to do anything, spends most of her time helping people. Yes, your reasons for that were perhaps influenced by your frankly abysmal family life, yes, you've had passing thoughts about doing differently, you may even have fantasized about it."
I stare into her eyes and emphasize clearly. "But you have. Not. Done it. You've had hundreds, thousands of opportunities, you've never used your powers for evil. Even when sorely pressed, even despite the stress and the pain, and the sorrow which you deal with day after day, and the pressure from your power to do more, you've relented." I pause smiling. "That doesn't sound like someone too weak to deal with the power. To me, that sounds like someone who is strong. Someone who holds up even under immense pressure that would crush someone twice your age. Adult doctors with perfect home lives and half your responsibility level regularly fail under much lower stresses than you are dealing with at this moment."
"You're not weak Panacea, you're stronger than you think."
I hold that pose for a few seconds, and wait for her response.
I don't expect a laugh, but that's what I get.
It starts small, just a slight exhale, and then it starts to grow into a giggle, and then the dam breaks, leading to full on laughter tumbling forth like a river held back for far too long.
It's contagious, and despite the sudden tonal shift, I end up laughing myself as well. I can see her amusement, though not where it is coming from. And that seems to make it even more contagious.
After a few minutes we settle down, her haunted eyes replaced by those red with tears from the laughter. She smiles at me.
"You're a bit of an idiot you know? Who even talks like that? You speak like you're some hero in a television show, trying to convince a friend to stand and fight. So dramatic." She giggles again, and has to pause to wipe her eyes with the tissues on the table by the bed.
I smile slightly at that. "Alright, perhaps a bit much, but it was all true anyways. That's what I honestly believe Panacea."
"Amy."
I pause. "What?"
"Call me Amy. It feels weird to have this conversation about Panacea. Panacea doesn't have conversations like this. Panacea just heals." She stops for a moment and sits back in the chair, her head tiliting back to look at the ceiling. "Panacea doesn't consider... doesn't consider doing anything different. Panacea has rules, because she can't be trusted without them."
I speak up. "Panacea is just someone you can be. You don't have to be her. You can be Amy if you want to." She hesitantly nods. Still smiling wanly.
I hold out my hand as if to shake. "It's nice to meet you Amy. I'm Jack."
She takes my hand.
Well, that went better than I thought it would.
"Now, I'd like to talk more about this, but I'm guessing that the doctors are either suspicious or are figuring out now than I'm a parahuman, and I suspect that some kind of call is going to go out to the Protectorate if you don't confirm I haven't Mastered you or something."
Amy nods. "Part of the procedure when an unknown parahuman is brought in. Your wounds should have killed you, so you were marked as a potential new trigger and brought to a private room. There are actually several PRT agents posted outside, and Armsmaster is on call to come over if anything happens. Plus everyone knows that harming a healer acting under the Kyushu Accords is pretty much an automatic Kill Order, so usually we deal with this without incident."
I stop for a moment and think. I don't remember anything about a 'Kyushu Accord' in canon. Is this something unique here or was it just never mentioned? Admittedly we mostly saw Panacea at her worst in canon, and my memory isn't perfect, but still. I'll have to get a copy of that when I get access to the internet.
Come to think of it, why don't I have access... Ah, the room, maybe the whole hospital is an air-gapped Faraday Cage. In a world with black hat hacker Tinkers, that's just common sense.
I turn back to Amy. "Alright. Well i have an idea to both help with your power-induced ennui and help me make a good impression on the Protectorate, and also perhaps help a bit with your home life. I'll just need your help with a few things..."
Amy seems to perk up as she realizes what I mean. "You want me to make something?"
I smile. "Well, really I was thinking more of a collaboration..."
End 2.1
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2.2 - Effective Altruism
- Location
- Canada
Alright folks, this is a relatively short chapter by my standards, but it will be continuing shortly with a POV switch. I'm still editing that part, but I expect it to be done shortly. This is going to be mostly worldbuilding and internal monologue. Until then, enjoy...
2.2 Effective Altruism
Amy had managed to secure me a doctor's lab coat in my size, as well as a surplus tiny white mask, which the hospital carried for wounded capes who needed to be moved without threat to their identity. I also carried in the inner pockets of my coat, secure in two surplus sterile test tubes that Amy had procured from somewhere in the hospital, the results of our cooperation.
Working with Panacea - with Amy - was a pleasure. She had a natural insight, but also a very sharp mind, too often ignored and underutilized. She also had a very dry wit, which appealed to my deadpan snarker sense of humor. While the collaboration started off fairly awkwardly, with me proposing a certain pathway or protein chain, or suggesting a specific modification or course of action, Amy quickly warmed up to the exercise, and soon we were rapidly discussing back and forth, excitedly comparing ideas and solving slight issues, accounting for hundreds of eventualities and possibilities.
My own body was the laboratory. I sectioned off an area in my left foot, arguing that if something went horribly wrong we could always just amputate and regrow it, and we thoroughly tested our creations as much as possible without using a whole human body. Though we did create an almost complete and isolated circulatory and lymphatic…
I shake my head for a moment to clear the fugue. Alright, Tinker brain remains a frustrating form of OCD, suffice to say, we tested and retested until we were as sure of our creations as we could be. Aside from all of the paperwork, they were as ready as anything that passed Phase 3 FDA trials.
And we did it in an afternoon instead of 10 years. The benefit of superpowers, an inherent understanding of human biology, and a complete disregard for established testing procedure.
Amy and I had a discussion about the Kyushu Accords. Apparently after Leviathan sunk Kyushu, the Guild and Protectorate spearheaded an international initiative to codify the rules for Parahuman healers. Japan before Leviathan had some fairly draconian rules which governed using powers to heal, mostly supported by the very established and traditional medical community which existed at the time. As a result, many Parahuman healers - a rare category even at the best of times - had either left Japan before Leviathan struck, or else were not properly registered and known as they were in hiding for violating some rule or regulation, and were unavailable in the aftermath.
Use of Protectorate Thinker think tanks and later research indicated that this led, directly and indirectly, to between half a million and a million more deaths than would otherwise have occurred if the healers had been available and properly protected.
So, the Kyushu Accords were formed. Parahuman healers who submitted to testing by a registered Hero group and were found to have a power falling under the criteria in the Accords were granted amnesty from previous non-capital crimes, an honorary medical degree in all signatory nations, and a variety of other protections.
Some healers who did not have an instinctive knowledge of biology were required to participate in additional training, but overall the system functionally turned parahuman healers into legally qualified medical personnel in any of the signatory nations.
I'm sure that I never read about anything like this in canon. It seems too… sensible and practical to fit into this crapsack world. I suppose we can't see everything in a mere million words.
As a result of this fact, Amy as my parahuman doctor and a registered medical practitioner was subject to doctor-patient confidentiality. She would be required to keep information she learned about me in the process of treating me private, the same way any normal doctor would be, without my explicit waiver of those rights.
This protection would include exactly the information the PRT would inquire about. My records would be sealed without a court order requiring them to be disclosed.
Of course, if I was to join the Protectorate, all those records would be unsealed and I would automatically waive any rights to privacy over them as towards the Protectorate itself. This was logical for a quasi-military organization, and I had pretty much expected it.
Which meant I couldn't join the Protectorate. Not now, not in my current state. I would not be able to accomplish what I needed to in the amount of time I had while hamstrung by that level of bureaucracy.
On a more personal level I had a moral objection with the way the Protectorate was run, and not just because it was Cauldron's shell game.
Somehow, the same people who created the Kyushu Accords, and who saw the results when an established community used fear to justify restricting parahuman rights in a given field don't see an issue with the world's foremost hero group requiring their commanding officers to be baseline humans. This led to people like James Tagg being given power over parahumans and the ability to make decisions on policies which affected them.
There are few bigger condemnations of a system than that fact.
So, normally not being in the Protectorate would mean I would need some kind of alternate method of acquiring capital. The one benefit to Protectorate membership, especially as a Tinker, was the deep pockets which came with any government office. I'd managed to crump together some basic technology, but so many of the things in my mental library required a much larger resource base and specialized tools. I still needed to build the machines that would build the machines, ad infinitum.
Normally this would be an issue. I also briefly considered what I know had been tried several times in Fanfiction which I had read: capturing Coil's assets. Often it's glossed over, as if a few minutes of hacking would be sufficient to wrest control over a full properly paranoid set of shell companies and accounts. In reality, it would likely be the work of weeks at a minimum to unravel that web without the aid of Dragon, who I couldn't really call upon yet without tipping off Saint, who was another target on my to-do list.
So, I opted instead for a one-two punch which was novel and clever if I was willing to toot my own horn: I'd create the perfect product.
Something of such universal desire that quite literally every person on the planet would want to buy it. The Cellphone market was the closest thing I could think of from Earth Prime, and even that would be nothing compared to the potential profit from a truly universally desired product.
Luckily, my legal training was finally coming in useful, as with my mental workspace it was easy to draft up a quick prospectus, and the basis of a list of constating documents for a number of corporations which I would create to manufacture and sell the product. Startup capital would be fairly easy to come by - I had a plan for proving my chops, which was suggested by Panacea and which I thought was a much more palatable alternative to my original plan, which while rationally acceptable was emotionally a bit scummy even with my varied pricing plans.
So, we had made two vials. One was a gift to the world, which would also serve to prove that we knew what we were doing. The other was the real money maker.
When I left the room under my own power, clad in my new makeshift costume, there were 4 PRT agents waiting outside, just as Amy had suggested. All wore form fitting armor and complete facemasks which I noted did not serve to block my power's ability to read their biology. Whatever wave my Thinker power operated on, non-powered armor at least did nothing to block it. That should probably remain quiet, as I could probably use that to unmask any non-Changer cape who didn't wear power armor.
Of my new minders, two were male, and two were female. All carried sidearms, two carried what looked to be some variety of assault rifles, and the other two carried what must have been containment foam sprayers judging by the hoses and backpacks. As I walked into the hallway, all four turned to face me. I paused for a moment and gave a little wave, moving over to allow Amy to leave the room behind me.
She spoke briefly with one of the guards, who I assumed was the one in command of this unit. That person then moved away and began speaking into a radio - which I suppose must have had some kind of tinker-tech to allow it to penetrate the Faraday Cage. Or, the security office could simply have had a receiver which relayed out authorized communications through a hardline. That would be a single point of attack, but if the devices it could communicate with were limited to 'dumb' radio sets, I suppose it wouldn't be too limited…
Alright, seriously, slow down on the Tinker fugues. Think about how to hack things just because they are a challenge to be hacked later.
Man, I hope I'm not catching whatever Tattletale has with her desire to stir up shit just for fun. Maybe it's a Thinker thing.
Something else to watch out for. I'm going to need to start some anti-megalomania training.
… Except I am trying to literally save the world…
I guess we'll hold off on that.
I almost jump when the commander of my little guard pack returns and speaks. Their voice is slightly distorted by the faceplate of their body armor, but it's a strong voice.
"We've received authorization to take you to PRT HQ. The Director will see you in an hour. However, with the city in its current state, there are certain conditions - you will travel with us, in a PRT vehicle. As you are an unknown tinker, we have authorization to foam you if you produce any unknown device without first informing us of your intentions. Panacea will travel with us as well, as both your sponsor and to undergo Master/Stranger screening, as you are an unknown parahuman. Please follow me, and refrain from making any sudden moves."
I cough slightly at the last bit, Amy is acting a bit strange I suppose, but she has finally been able to let go and use her powers for once. Hell, they could be suspicious of the fact that she is smiling. I make eye contact with her, and she rolls her eyes and shrugs as if to say 'Not the first time'.
Well, I suppose she knows what's going on better than I do. I begin to follow the... lieutenant? Squad leader?
Huh. I don't think canon ever described any PRT rank other than 'Director' and 'Deputy Director', or if it did I sure don't remember it. I'm sure one of those insignia means something...
I miss the internet.
The squad forms up around us, and they lead Amy and I down a set of stairs, and into an underground garage. The leader makes for a back corner, and we stop in front of a plain black van which is so ordinary looking that it absolutely screams 'Totally a Government Vehicle', and our guard squad moves expertly to position, two in the front, two opening the back doors and allowing Panacea and I in.
All of them are keeping a close watch on me, though Amy doesn't seem to be worried. In fact, she seems uncharacteristically chipper, smiling slightly, and occasionally stopping to stare at her hands, or at the pocket of my jacket where the vials are as if she can't believe what we've managed to create in a few short hours.
I'm impressed as well, honestly.
What I'm less impressed about is the PRT van itself. Yes, it's clearly had some additions: the interior rear has a set of crash harnessed seats, it takes a moment to figure out the belts, though Amy does hers up with practiced ease only slightly slower than the PRT agents. There is a nozzle in the centre of the ceiling which I am certain is a containment foam projector, and a lit up mirror on the back wall which I'm sure is a one way mirror into the cabin.
In fact, it's so superficially competent, I'm pleasantly surprised that it appears to have no ECM whatsoever.
As it pulls out of the hospital garage, my HUD lights up with a notification that cellular and satellite service is now available. Programs immediately spin up, my integrated antenna locks on to the nearest cell phone tower and an agent program I had created for just that purpose analyzes the data traffic and generates a quick script to fake my login credentials, allowing me preferred access to the network, and just like that I'm on the internet.
My vision fills with data. By triangulating between three nearby towers and cribbing from an online mapping app (Google Maps exists here, but is way further behind than I remember from 2011. Man, the internet here is depressing) I manage a perfect up to date position tracker in my corner view - I have a real life minimap now - and also connect to the local government websites to quickly peruse the various forms I'm going to need to incorporate.
The van shifts very slightly, as it goes around a turn, and I briefly zoom out my map, which takes up all of my view for a moment. We are moving through what may be the only intact rotary in the city, and it looks like our ETA to the PRT HQ (with average traffic) is about 15 minutes. I can see the flat map and the blinking cursor for our location, positional and speed data on the side with the background data for average traffic times, congestion, all of the hidden information your apps never show you. I can process it all in real time.
Man, imagine if I had actual satellite uplink. Is this how Dragon sees the world?
I honestly don't know how I'd be able to live without this thing now that I have it. Any amount of pain was worth this. It's the convenience of a cell phone with the power of a fully built battlestation PC, in my head at all times, only both convenience and power are increased by several orders of magnitude. Intellectually I understand that part of the ease of use is my Tinker power, but emotionally I'm still riding the new-technology novelty high. I've always been someone who loved the new and exotic which it comes to tech.
Speaking of new and exotic, lets see if one of the side features is functional…
My vision momentarily drags forward as if I was a ship that just entered hyperspace, for a split second and then it doubles.
I'm sitting here staring across at a soldier./I'm sitting here staring across at a soldier.
I'm sitting here staring across at a soldier./I'm searching through PHO and creating an account...
I'm making small talk with Amy, discussing a bit more about the Bay, innocent topics... / I'm scanning the local news to get an update on the ABB situation…
I'm sitting back with my eyes closed... /I'm filling all of the forms required to form a set of shell corporations and registering them...
Not having to actually type pops my normally acceptable but mediocre 80 WPM typing speed to a frankly inhuman 500+. And that's before being able to mentally copy-paste.
A small timer in the corner of my vision drops to 0:00, and my dual viewpoints merge again in a flash which makes a brief tinge of pain go through my head. Not exactly Coil-level multitasking, but certainly a helpful tool for getting a lot done in a little amount of time. And this with only my most basic, partially functional interface.
Looks like I can just under 10 minutes of dual focus out of the Schism protocol on my first set of hardware. The mental fatigue will require about an hour's cooldown before I can effectively use it again without risking actual nerve damage. Still respectable. I could possibly maintain a larger number for a shorter period, but it would be measured in seconds for anything above 4 - the damage accumulates exponentially with more viewpoints.
Still, could be a fairly good combat boost.
I named the protocol after one of my favorite Dungeons and Dragons Psionic Powers, Schism, which allows the caster to split their mind and perform multiple mental actions at once. With a computer in my head, that kind of mental split can pay dividends quickly for me. It doesn't make me any physically faster, or increase my reaction time, but the multitasking should allow me to plan much better. Hopefully it can even be used to enhance my combat-Thinker ability, but that will require testing.
As I finish and submit the documents, I make a mental note to apologize to Tattletale. While I had access to her computer, I may have cribbed access to a few of her accounts, just in case I needed money in the future.
Yeah, a bit of a dick move, but morality gets a bit slippery when you are both dealing with a supervillain and trying to save a number of lives measured in billions.
I figure a 1% interest in what will likely be the richest company in the world inside of a year should pay back the money I'm 'borrowing' to pay the quick frankly miniscule incorporation fees.
Man, Delaware really does have amazing corporate law. I knew there was a reason half of the companies in the US incorporate there.
I complete the registration just in time, as the van approaches its destination. I watch on the map from streetview (which is way lower res than I remember). The PRT HQ is an edifice, barred windows going up several stories, and a huge shield emblazoned with the words "P.R.T" on the front of the blocky structure. We move into an adjacent parking garage, and after a short pause, I assume to receive authorization, the car is pulled into park and the doors are pulled open.
Alright. Showtime.
As we exit, the guard group leads us to a large steel door. One of them swipes a keycard, and the door opens, allowing us access to a sparse white corridor lit with florescent lights with a similar door at the other end.
Standing in the middle of the corridor, about 10 feet from where we enter, is an armored figure, head to toe ensconced in blue tinted powered armor with silver highlighting, and the only skin visible is the bottom of his face which contains a neatly trimmed brown beard.
In his hand, ready but not yet pointed at me, is a 7 foot mechanical halberd.
Well, I'd guess this is Armsmaster.
I remember him being a bit of a dick, but I'm sure most of that was fanon blowing everything out of proportion.
Well better start it off simple then.
"Hello Armsmaster" I say, smiling and stepping forward with my hand extended to shake, "I'm..."
Woah! So the end of that thing is glowing now. Also that really really looks sharp. Also pointing at me. What the...
"Do not move." Armsmaster says, his mouth set into a stern line. The PRT guards move away from me... getting out of the line of fire.
Well. Fuck me.
2.2 Effective Altruism
Amy had managed to secure me a doctor's lab coat in my size, as well as a surplus tiny white mask, which the hospital carried for wounded capes who needed to be moved without threat to their identity. I also carried in the inner pockets of my coat, secure in two surplus sterile test tubes that Amy had procured from somewhere in the hospital, the results of our cooperation.
Working with Panacea - with Amy - was a pleasure. She had a natural insight, but also a very sharp mind, too often ignored and underutilized. She also had a very dry wit, which appealed to my deadpan snarker sense of humor. While the collaboration started off fairly awkwardly, with me proposing a certain pathway or protein chain, or suggesting a specific modification or course of action, Amy quickly warmed up to the exercise, and soon we were rapidly discussing back and forth, excitedly comparing ideas and solving slight issues, accounting for hundreds of eventualities and possibilities.
My own body was the laboratory. I sectioned off an area in my left foot, arguing that if something went horribly wrong we could always just amputate and regrow it, and we thoroughly tested our creations as much as possible without using a whole human body. Though we did create an almost complete and isolated circulatory and lymphatic…
I shake my head for a moment to clear the fugue. Alright, Tinker brain remains a frustrating form of OCD, suffice to say, we tested and retested until we were as sure of our creations as we could be. Aside from all of the paperwork, they were as ready as anything that passed Phase 3 FDA trials.
And we did it in an afternoon instead of 10 years. The benefit of superpowers, an inherent understanding of human biology, and a complete disregard for established testing procedure.
Amy and I had a discussion about the Kyushu Accords. Apparently after Leviathan sunk Kyushu, the Guild and Protectorate spearheaded an international initiative to codify the rules for Parahuman healers. Japan before Leviathan had some fairly draconian rules which governed using powers to heal, mostly supported by the very established and traditional medical community which existed at the time. As a result, many Parahuman healers - a rare category even at the best of times - had either left Japan before Leviathan struck, or else were not properly registered and known as they were in hiding for violating some rule or regulation, and were unavailable in the aftermath.
Use of Protectorate Thinker think tanks and later research indicated that this led, directly and indirectly, to between half a million and a million more deaths than would otherwise have occurred if the healers had been available and properly protected.
So, the Kyushu Accords were formed. Parahuman healers who submitted to testing by a registered Hero group and were found to have a power falling under the criteria in the Accords were granted amnesty from previous non-capital crimes, an honorary medical degree in all signatory nations, and a variety of other protections.
Some healers who did not have an instinctive knowledge of biology were required to participate in additional training, but overall the system functionally turned parahuman healers into legally qualified medical personnel in any of the signatory nations.
I'm sure that I never read about anything like this in canon. It seems too… sensible and practical to fit into this crapsack world. I suppose we can't see everything in a mere million words.
As a result of this fact, Amy as my parahuman doctor and a registered medical practitioner was subject to doctor-patient confidentiality. She would be required to keep information she learned about me in the process of treating me private, the same way any normal doctor would be, without my explicit waiver of those rights.
This protection would include exactly the information the PRT would inquire about. My records would be sealed without a court order requiring them to be disclosed.
Of course, if I was to join the Protectorate, all those records would be unsealed and I would automatically waive any rights to privacy over them as towards the Protectorate itself. This was logical for a quasi-military organization, and I had pretty much expected it.
Which meant I couldn't join the Protectorate. Not now, not in my current state. I would not be able to accomplish what I needed to in the amount of time I had while hamstrung by that level of bureaucracy.
On a more personal level I had a moral objection with the way the Protectorate was run, and not just because it was Cauldron's shell game.
Somehow, the same people who created the Kyushu Accords, and who saw the results when an established community used fear to justify restricting parahuman rights in a given field don't see an issue with the world's foremost hero group requiring their commanding officers to be baseline humans. This led to people like James Tagg being given power over parahumans and the ability to make decisions on policies which affected them.
There are few bigger condemnations of a system than that fact.
So, normally not being in the Protectorate would mean I would need some kind of alternate method of acquiring capital. The one benefit to Protectorate membership, especially as a Tinker, was the deep pockets which came with any government office. I'd managed to crump together some basic technology, but so many of the things in my mental library required a much larger resource base and specialized tools. I still needed to build the machines that would build the machines, ad infinitum.
Normally this would be an issue. I also briefly considered what I know had been tried several times in Fanfiction which I had read: capturing Coil's assets. Often it's glossed over, as if a few minutes of hacking would be sufficient to wrest control over a full properly paranoid set of shell companies and accounts. In reality, it would likely be the work of weeks at a minimum to unravel that web without the aid of Dragon, who I couldn't really call upon yet without tipping off Saint, who was another target on my to-do list.
So, I opted instead for a one-two punch which was novel and clever if I was willing to toot my own horn: I'd create the perfect product.
Something of such universal desire that quite literally every person on the planet would want to buy it. The Cellphone market was the closest thing I could think of from Earth Prime, and even that would be nothing compared to the potential profit from a truly universally desired product.
Luckily, my legal training was finally coming in useful, as with my mental workspace it was easy to draft up a quick prospectus, and the basis of a list of constating documents for a number of corporations which I would create to manufacture and sell the product. Startup capital would be fairly easy to come by - I had a plan for proving my chops, which was suggested by Panacea and which I thought was a much more palatable alternative to my original plan, which while rationally acceptable was emotionally a bit scummy even with my varied pricing plans.
So, we had made two vials. One was a gift to the world, which would also serve to prove that we knew what we were doing. The other was the real money maker.
When I left the room under my own power, clad in my new makeshift costume, there were 4 PRT agents waiting outside, just as Amy had suggested. All wore form fitting armor and complete facemasks which I noted did not serve to block my power's ability to read their biology. Whatever wave my Thinker power operated on, non-powered armor at least did nothing to block it. That should probably remain quiet, as I could probably use that to unmask any non-Changer cape who didn't wear power armor.
Of my new minders, two were male, and two were female. All carried sidearms, two carried what looked to be some variety of assault rifles, and the other two carried what must have been containment foam sprayers judging by the hoses and backpacks. As I walked into the hallway, all four turned to face me. I paused for a moment and gave a little wave, moving over to allow Amy to leave the room behind me.
She spoke briefly with one of the guards, who I assumed was the one in command of this unit. That person then moved away and began speaking into a radio - which I suppose must have had some kind of tinker-tech to allow it to penetrate the Faraday Cage. Or, the security office could simply have had a receiver which relayed out authorized communications through a hardline. That would be a single point of attack, but if the devices it could communicate with were limited to 'dumb' radio sets, I suppose it wouldn't be too limited…
Alright, seriously, slow down on the Tinker fugues. Think about how to hack things just because they are a challenge to be hacked later.
Man, I hope I'm not catching whatever Tattletale has with her desire to stir up shit just for fun. Maybe it's a Thinker thing.
Something else to watch out for. I'm going to need to start some anti-megalomania training.
… Except I am trying to literally save the world…
I guess we'll hold off on that.
I almost jump when the commander of my little guard pack returns and speaks. Their voice is slightly distorted by the faceplate of their body armor, but it's a strong voice.
"We've received authorization to take you to PRT HQ. The Director will see you in an hour. However, with the city in its current state, there are certain conditions - you will travel with us, in a PRT vehicle. As you are an unknown tinker, we have authorization to foam you if you produce any unknown device without first informing us of your intentions. Panacea will travel with us as well, as both your sponsor and to undergo Master/Stranger screening, as you are an unknown parahuman. Please follow me, and refrain from making any sudden moves."
I cough slightly at the last bit, Amy is acting a bit strange I suppose, but she has finally been able to let go and use her powers for once. Hell, they could be suspicious of the fact that she is smiling. I make eye contact with her, and she rolls her eyes and shrugs as if to say 'Not the first time'.
Well, I suppose she knows what's going on better than I do. I begin to follow the... lieutenant? Squad leader?
Huh. I don't think canon ever described any PRT rank other than 'Director' and 'Deputy Director', or if it did I sure don't remember it. I'm sure one of those insignia means something...
I miss the internet.
The squad forms up around us, and they lead Amy and I down a set of stairs, and into an underground garage. The leader makes for a back corner, and we stop in front of a plain black van which is so ordinary looking that it absolutely screams 'Totally a Government Vehicle', and our guard squad moves expertly to position, two in the front, two opening the back doors and allowing Panacea and I in.
All of them are keeping a close watch on me, though Amy doesn't seem to be worried. In fact, she seems uncharacteristically chipper, smiling slightly, and occasionally stopping to stare at her hands, or at the pocket of my jacket where the vials are as if she can't believe what we've managed to create in a few short hours.
I'm impressed as well, honestly.
What I'm less impressed about is the PRT van itself. Yes, it's clearly had some additions: the interior rear has a set of crash harnessed seats, it takes a moment to figure out the belts, though Amy does hers up with practiced ease only slightly slower than the PRT agents. There is a nozzle in the centre of the ceiling which I am certain is a containment foam projector, and a lit up mirror on the back wall which I'm sure is a one way mirror into the cabin.
In fact, it's so superficially competent, I'm pleasantly surprised that it appears to have no ECM whatsoever.
As it pulls out of the hospital garage, my HUD lights up with a notification that cellular and satellite service is now available. Programs immediately spin up, my integrated antenna locks on to the nearest cell phone tower and an agent program I had created for just that purpose analyzes the data traffic and generates a quick script to fake my login credentials, allowing me preferred access to the network, and just like that I'm on the internet.
My vision fills with data. By triangulating between three nearby towers and cribbing from an online mapping app (Google Maps exists here, but is way further behind than I remember from 2011. Man, the internet here is depressing) I manage a perfect up to date position tracker in my corner view - I have a real life minimap now - and also connect to the local government websites to quickly peruse the various forms I'm going to need to incorporate.
The van shifts very slightly, as it goes around a turn, and I briefly zoom out my map, which takes up all of my view for a moment. We are moving through what may be the only intact rotary in the city, and it looks like our ETA to the PRT HQ (with average traffic) is about 15 minutes. I can see the flat map and the blinking cursor for our location, positional and speed data on the side with the background data for average traffic times, congestion, all of the hidden information your apps never show you. I can process it all in real time.
Man, imagine if I had actual satellite uplink. Is this how Dragon sees the world?
I honestly don't know how I'd be able to live without this thing now that I have it. Any amount of pain was worth this. It's the convenience of a cell phone with the power of a fully built battlestation PC, in my head at all times, only both convenience and power are increased by several orders of magnitude. Intellectually I understand that part of the ease of use is my Tinker power, but emotionally I'm still riding the new-technology novelty high. I've always been someone who loved the new and exotic which it comes to tech.
Speaking of new and exotic, lets see if one of the side features is functional…
Execute: Schism
My vision momentarily drags forward as if I was a ship that just entered hyperspace, for a split second and then it doubles.
I'm sitting here staring across at a soldier./I'm sitting here staring across at a soldier.
I'm sitting here staring across at a soldier./I'm searching through PHO and creating an account...
I'm making small talk with Amy, discussing a bit more about the Bay, innocent topics... / I'm scanning the local news to get an update on the ABB situation…
I'm sitting back with my eyes closed... /I'm filling all of the forms required to form a set of shell corporations and registering them...
Not having to actually type pops my normally acceptable but mediocre 80 WPM typing speed to a frankly inhuman 500+. And that's before being able to mentally copy-paste.
A small timer in the corner of my vision drops to 0:00, and my dual viewpoints merge again in a flash which makes a brief tinge of pain go through my head. Not exactly Coil-level multitasking, but certainly a helpful tool for getting a lot done in a little amount of time. And this with only my most basic, partially functional interface.
Looks like I can just under 10 minutes of dual focus out of the Schism protocol on my first set of hardware. The mental fatigue will require about an hour's cooldown before I can effectively use it again without risking actual nerve damage. Still respectable. I could possibly maintain a larger number for a shorter period, but it would be measured in seconds for anything above 4 - the damage accumulates exponentially with more viewpoints.
Still, could be a fairly good combat boost.
I named the protocol after one of my favorite Dungeons and Dragons Psionic Powers, Schism, which allows the caster to split their mind and perform multiple mental actions at once. With a computer in my head, that kind of mental split can pay dividends quickly for me. It doesn't make me any physically faster, or increase my reaction time, but the multitasking should allow me to plan much better. Hopefully it can even be used to enhance my combat-Thinker ability, but that will require testing.
As I finish and submit the documents, I make a mental note to apologize to Tattletale. While I had access to her computer, I may have cribbed access to a few of her accounts, just in case I needed money in the future.
Yeah, a bit of a dick move, but morality gets a bit slippery when you are both dealing with a supervillain and trying to save a number of lives measured in billions.
I figure a 1% interest in what will likely be the richest company in the world inside of a year should pay back the money I'm 'borrowing' to pay the quick frankly miniscule incorporation fees.
Man, Delaware really does have amazing corporate law. I knew there was a reason half of the companies in the US incorporate there.
I complete the registration just in time, as the van approaches its destination. I watch on the map from streetview (which is way lower res than I remember). The PRT HQ is an edifice, barred windows going up several stories, and a huge shield emblazoned with the words "P.R.T" on the front of the blocky structure. We move into an adjacent parking garage, and after a short pause, I assume to receive authorization, the car is pulled into park and the doors are pulled open.
Alright. Showtime.
As we exit, the guard group leads us to a large steel door. One of them swipes a keycard, and the door opens, allowing us access to a sparse white corridor lit with florescent lights with a similar door at the other end.
Standing in the middle of the corridor, about 10 feet from where we enter, is an armored figure, head to toe ensconced in blue tinted powered armor with silver highlighting, and the only skin visible is the bottom of his face which contains a neatly trimmed brown beard.
In his hand, ready but not yet pointed at me, is a 7 foot mechanical halberd.
Well, I'd guess this is Armsmaster.
I remember him being a bit of a dick, but I'm sure most of that was fanon blowing everything out of proportion.
Well better start it off simple then.
"Hello Armsmaster" I say, smiling and stepping forward with my hand extended to shake, "I'm..."
Woah! So the end of that thing is glowing now. Also that really really looks sharp. Also pointing at me. What the...
"Do not move." Armsmaster says, his mouth set into a stern line. The PRT guards move away from me... getting out of the line of fire.
Well. Fuck me.
Last edited:
2.A - Armsmaster Interlude
- Location
- Canada
Reports of my death were only mostly exaggerated. Since my last post I've gotten a new job, gotten engaged, been the hostage in a bank robbery, and eaten a lot of chips. The last part isn't as important to you, but it was a great time for me.
My muse vanished for a while in streams of legal documentation and case work, but it returned long enough to get into Armsmaster's head and advance the plot a bit, so here's the next section. I haven't written the next part, and I may try to get a bit of a backlog going before posting the next bit, so no promises on the next update.
If you see any misspellings or grammar errors please let me know, this chapter has not been edited.
2.A - Armsmaster Interlude
Collin Wallis woke up at precisely 4:03 AM.
The last few weeks had been… not amazing for Colin. The chaos in the city brought on by the gang war and Bakuda's mad bombing spree had resulted in hundreds of casualties, millions of dollars in damage, and a 47.5% loss in his personal efficiency metrics.
It would take weeks of relatively "normal" chaos to recover to a respectable level and get his time management back on track.
Colin hated inefficiency. While part of that was a natural feature of his life - he had never been too forgiving of associates who wasted time on frivolous things when there was work to be done - he was certain that a part of that hate stemmed from his power. He had high enough clearance to read the profile reports of villains in the ENE region, he knew what Accord's power had done to his own personal obsessive-compulsive complex. Colin had done enough self-reflection to know that his own neurotic tendencies had likely been seriously enhanced by his power. All in all, it could have been a lot worse.
As he stood from the cot in his lab into the boots of his power armor, he consumed the waiting nutrient bar on the table and reached out to grab the mug of coffee coming out of the auto-brewer. His suit began to form around him, placed by automated waldo units. Inspired by that Aleph movie - amazing what you could pull inspiration from. Saved him an average of 3.4 minutes per day in donning his armor, an efficiency gain which paid dividends over time.
As his helmet closed over his head and the display began booting up, he walked to the main terminal and began to view the status of his various automated projects, sipping at the coffee as he walked. Perfect temperature, as it should be.
As he walked a window popped up in the corner of his vision, a brief glimpse of the Guild logo, fading into a more personal image which caused him to smile slightly despite his own personal exhaustion.
The image resolved into a face, which looked about as tired as he felt. The face formed a wan smile as it began to speak.
"Good Morning Colin, I've taken the liberty of quickly summarizing the updates from the last two hours while you've been asleep." Dragon said, as a stream of data began flickering through his heads-up display.
4 attacks. 2 E88 strikes on ABB locations, relatively small time, no Parahuman involvement. Stormtiger and Cricket hit an ABB brothel only to be chased off by Lung - apparently Cricket had suffered severe burns, but nothing Othala couldn't fix and Oni Lee had responded to a request for help from some ABB goons attacking a MedHall research facility and community clinic which had been… defended by E88?
Armsmaster paused and began to review this last report more closely. He pulled up the surveillance information - Dragon had made great strides in back-engineering one of L33T's old camera-drones, and while some of the features that made that failure of a Tinker's creations so effective, at least temporarily, had eluded her, the versions she created were still fairly effective at monitoring events throughout the city.
Technically this kind of wide-scale monitoring was not proper law enforcement procedure, and none of the information gathered this way would likely be court-admissible, but given the current situation in Brockton Bay, Armsmaster was not going to give up the tactical advantage.
There weren't enough drones to provide anywhere near city-wide surveillance, but most major parahuman conflicts tended to be pretty visible from above, especially when viewed in infrared. Colin watched the first quite high and zoomed out overhead view, followed by a much clearer view of the later stages of the conflict, culminating in some kind of large explosion which collapsed the three story medical office into a pile of smoking rubble.
"Seismometers registered a minor seismic event in the area around the time the building collapsed, and spectral analysis shows that some of the material in the building is simply gone, not just buried under rubble. It's possible the collapse may have damaged the sewer system in the area as well. 15 fatalities, 34 injured were sent to Brockton Bay General as the closest hospital. 28 of those are marked ABB or E88 Members, the other 6 appear to be civilians, perhaps employees working late. It looks like they haven't all been identified yet." Dragon's voice interrupted Colin's focus for a moment as she summarized a number of graphs and reports attached to the data stream.
"Localized teleportation effect?" Armsmaster responded, taking another sip of his coffee.
The view zoomed in on the rubble, and a wireframe began to illustrate Dragon's analysis with datapoints drawn from a number of sensors, both in the drone and networked in through Armsmaster's local network.
"Actually, based on gravimetric readings, this may have been a localized micro-singularity. Bakuda's bombs have some truly exotic effects, and this may not be too outside the norm."
Colin coughed, and nearly spat out the mouthful of coffee he had just taken. A strangled "What?" escaped his mouth as he sputtered for a moment before recovering.
"A singularity? Are you sure? How large? Is it still active? Is it growing?" Armsmaster's mind raced. A fool. Only a goddamned fool would use something so dangerous in a bomb. A microsingularity which could grow or which lasted too long could destroy the planet given enough time, that was an Extinction-Level Event waiting to happen.
His hands danced over the keyboard, pulling up reading after reading as his mind raced.
Suddenly the screen flashed black for a moment and he frowned reaching for the reset before he finally noticed that Dragon was trying to get his attention.
"As I was saying," Dragon noted, staring at him with a digital eyebrow raised "the microsingularity seemed to only exist for about 5 seconds, pulled in and presumably annihilated everything in a 10 meter radius, and then vanished. Gravatic sensors show no other anomalies anywhere in the city, and no other areas appear to have been effected. It seems to have been merely a small scale effect."
Dragon frowns. "Though, I'm not sure I like not knowing whether Bakuda could scale that effect up. On a larger scale, the gravatic sheer of a singularity could tear apart any forcefield or material I can think of. It certainly ups Bakuda's threat level if she is capable of something like that."
Colin grunted, and drank the rest of his coffee before placing the empty mug in a receptacle in the machine. "We have to deal with Bakuda soon. If we give her much more time to build, the entire city could be at risk. If she is this irresponsible, possibly even more."
Dragon's virtual face took on a solemn expression and she nodded. "Yes I agree. We have 18 hours before the planned attack. Lets go over what we know…"
As Dragon outlined the key evidence on Bakuda and Lung's locations and the plan of attack, Colin began cycling through the readouts and configuring his equipment loadout. For several hours, they continued preparing.
----
8:14 AM EST, April 24, 2011
In the middle of a long explanation about ABB movement patterns, Dragon suddenly paused. Colin looked up from his configuration menu. "Is something wrong?"
Dragon frowned. "I thought I detected… something. With a rogue tinker on the loose in the city, I've been monitoring internet, utility, and communications traffic for the standard Tinker indicators. One of my programs alerted me to a high bandwidth cellular connection suddenly appearing shortly outside Brockton General Hospital. No conventional cellular modem has the capacity to operate at the levels of bandwidth of this connection, and it spoofed a dozen simultaneous connections to the closest cell tower within moments."
Armsmaster pulled up the scan, but Dragon's programs were significantly outside his area of specialization. The information streaming across the screen was almost raw data, and very difficult to make much sense of. Seeing his reaction, Dragon isolated and highlighted several areas, and opened another screen showing a map of Brockton Bay, with the location highlighted.
"I tracked the signal for about 3 minutes, moving southbound on Wallis Street, at an average of 23 miles per hour. Then it vanished."
Colin's eyebrows rose at this. "Vanished? Can you track what what accessed?"
Dragon's eyes narrowed, and a range of screens began to appear on Colin's monitor. Data flew by, and hundreds, thousands of connections began to appear. "Whatever it was, it momentarily took over roughly 15% of that tower's total bandwidth. It must have been some kind of prepared program, or virus, because it operated far too quickly to be done manually, even by a Tinker. The program sought out dozens of different systems, searching for vulnerabilities, accessing government and non-governmental databases, seeking out data in Toronto, Mumbai, Vancouver, and New York. There are too many individual streams, I cannot tell what the actual goal of the program was without more time to analyze each branch."
"It's slightly worrying to see a program even you can't trace within minutes Dragon, even moreso worrying that you then lost track of it entirely." Colin responded. "Is there anything about the point of termination that could shed light on why you lost the signal?"
Dragon shakes her head. "Not that I can see. The program sought out certain information - publicly available government records and forms from Delaware, a manifest of the PHO Cape Database in New York, communication and internet access logs in Toronto, login credentials for an Endbringer memorial site in Japan, the list goes on. Several of these had reported back to the source before it suddenly went completely dark to me. I cannot find any connection on any of the other towers in the area that matches the same signature. It is possible that it detected my probes and shut down."
Colin pulled up his own, not as effective search algorithms and began to run a scan. "Hmm. I have something. There was a notice from some troopers at Brockton General about an hour ago that Panacea had invoked the Kyushu Accords on what may be a new trigger. She spent about two hours in the room with this person, and when she left she asked to be brought to the PRT HQ. Following standard protocols for an out of character response when interacting with a new trigger, the Lieutenant on scene called in Master/Stranger Protocols on Panacea and the new trigger, temporarily codenamed "Regen", as the doctors called in Panacea after noting that the subject was healing much faster than usual from some serious injuries."
The screen continued to scroll downward as Armsmaster continued reading the report. "It looks like he came in from the ABB and E88 fight that occured while I was asleep. No gang signs, no identification, and he was wearing some seriously damaged civilian clothing. He could have been a Medhall employee working late, wrong place wrong time, teams are still trying to dig out any computers in the rubble, but it's seriously low priority right now."
Armsmaster highlights a document, and notes the tracking device on the PRT transport vehicle usually stationed at Brockton General when Panacea is in attendance. "But look at this. PRT Transport 185 left Brockton General with Panacea, 4 troopers and codename Regen two minutes before you first picked up the signal. The transponder shows the vehicle travelling southbound on Willis Street at precisely the same time you picked up the cellular tower connection."
Armsmaster hits a few keys, and the two datastreams sync up. The location data is identical, but when the cellular tracking ends, the transponder data continues. "Reports from the squad before the transport left indicates that neither Regen nor Panacea had any electronic devices on them other than Panacea's phone. Panacea's phone is PRT issue, but does not have nearly the bandwidth to make the connections you detected."
Armsmaster rises from his seat and triggers a command in his visor. An armory to the east of the screen opens and a particular halberd extends outward perfectly timed for him to grab - his anti- tinker weapon.
"Transport 185 is scheduled to arrive in the garage in 6 minutes. I can be there in 3." Armsmaster opened a radio channel to the garage, and ordered Transport 185 to be locked down pending his arrival when it came in.
Closing the channel he turned back to Dragon.
"I need to find out what this Tinker is doing, and in the worst case scenario we may have a Tinker/Master who has compromised Panacea." Armsmaster grimaced. "This is the worst possible time for this."
Dragon nodded, her virtual face grave. "Understood. Colin, be careful. I don't have any suits in the area, and I am not finished modifying my primary suit for the Lung fight this afternoon. I can't get anything there for 4 hours, minimum."
Armsmaster nods. "I can handle this. See if you can pick up that program or what it was looking for. It might give us an idea of what's going on here."
Armsmaster begins walking out of the lab, mentally reviewing the quickest path to the vehicle bay. This would have to happen now. What's next, the Slaughterhouse Nine come to visit?
He grinds his teeth under his helmet. No, even he can't be that unlucky.
He continues down the path to the garage, mentally reviewing his anti-tinker and anti-master protocols.
My muse vanished for a while in streams of legal documentation and case work, but it returned long enough to get into Armsmaster's head and advance the plot a bit, so here's the next section. I haven't written the next part, and I may try to get a bit of a backlog going before posting the next bit, so no promises on the next update.
If you see any misspellings or grammar errors please let me know, this chapter has not been edited.
2.A - Armsmaster Interlude
Collin Wallis woke up at precisely 4:03 AM.
The last few weeks had been… not amazing for Colin. The chaos in the city brought on by the gang war and Bakuda's mad bombing spree had resulted in hundreds of casualties, millions of dollars in damage, and a 47.5% loss in his personal efficiency metrics.
It would take weeks of relatively "normal" chaos to recover to a respectable level and get his time management back on track.
Colin hated inefficiency. While part of that was a natural feature of his life - he had never been too forgiving of associates who wasted time on frivolous things when there was work to be done - he was certain that a part of that hate stemmed from his power. He had high enough clearance to read the profile reports of villains in the ENE region, he knew what Accord's power had done to his own personal obsessive-compulsive complex. Colin had done enough self-reflection to know that his own neurotic tendencies had likely been seriously enhanced by his power. All in all, it could have been a lot worse.
As he stood from the cot in his lab into the boots of his power armor, he consumed the waiting nutrient bar on the table and reached out to grab the mug of coffee coming out of the auto-brewer. His suit began to form around him, placed by automated waldo units. Inspired by that Aleph movie - amazing what you could pull inspiration from. Saved him an average of 3.4 minutes per day in donning his armor, an efficiency gain which paid dividends over time.
As his helmet closed over his head and the display began booting up, he walked to the main terminal and began to view the status of his various automated projects, sipping at the coffee as he walked. Perfect temperature, as it should be.
As he walked a window popped up in the corner of his vision, a brief glimpse of the Guild logo, fading into a more personal image which caused him to smile slightly despite his own personal exhaustion.
The image resolved into a face, which looked about as tired as he felt. The face formed a wan smile as it began to speak.
"Good Morning Colin, I've taken the liberty of quickly summarizing the updates from the last two hours while you've been asleep." Dragon said, as a stream of data began flickering through his heads-up display.
4 attacks. 2 E88 strikes on ABB locations, relatively small time, no Parahuman involvement. Stormtiger and Cricket hit an ABB brothel only to be chased off by Lung - apparently Cricket had suffered severe burns, but nothing Othala couldn't fix and Oni Lee had responded to a request for help from some ABB goons attacking a MedHall research facility and community clinic which had been… defended by E88?
Armsmaster paused and began to review this last report more closely. He pulled up the surveillance information - Dragon had made great strides in back-engineering one of L33T's old camera-drones, and while some of the features that made that failure of a Tinker's creations so effective, at least temporarily, had eluded her, the versions she created were still fairly effective at monitoring events throughout the city.
Technically this kind of wide-scale monitoring was not proper law enforcement procedure, and none of the information gathered this way would likely be court-admissible, but given the current situation in Brockton Bay, Armsmaster was not going to give up the tactical advantage.
There weren't enough drones to provide anywhere near city-wide surveillance, but most major parahuman conflicts tended to be pretty visible from above, especially when viewed in infrared. Colin watched the first quite high and zoomed out overhead view, followed by a much clearer view of the later stages of the conflict, culminating in some kind of large explosion which collapsed the three story medical office into a pile of smoking rubble.
"Seismometers registered a minor seismic event in the area around the time the building collapsed, and spectral analysis shows that some of the material in the building is simply gone, not just buried under rubble. It's possible the collapse may have damaged the sewer system in the area as well. 15 fatalities, 34 injured were sent to Brockton Bay General as the closest hospital. 28 of those are marked ABB or E88 Members, the other 6 appear to be civilians, perhaps employees working late. It looks like they haven't all been identified yet." Dragon's voice interrupted Colin's focus for a moment as she summarized a number of graphs and reports attached to the data stream.
"Localized teleportation effect?" Armsmaster responded, taking another sip of his coffee.
The view zoomed in on the rubble, and a wireframe began to illustrate Dragon's analysis with datapoints drawn from a number of sensors, both in the drone and networked in through Armsmaster's local network.
"Actually, based on gravimetric readings, this may have been a localized micro-singularity. Bakuda's bombs have some truly exotic effects, and this may not be too outside the norm."
Colin coughed, and nearly spat out the mouthful of coffee he had just taken. A strangled "What?" escaped his mouth as he sputtered for a moment before recovering.
"A singularity? Are you sure? How large? Is it still active? Is it growing?" Armsmaster's mind raced. A fool. Only a goddamned fool would use something so dangerous in a bomb. A microsingularity which could grow or which lasted too long could destroy the planet given enough time, that was an Extinction-Level Event waiting to happen.
His hands danced over the keyboard, pulling up reading after reading as his mind raced.
Suddenly the screen flashed black for a moment and he frowned reaching for the reset before he finally noticed that Dragon was trying to get his attention.
"As I was saying," Dragon noted, staring at him with a digital eyebrow raised "the microsingularity seemed to only exist for about 5 seconds, pulled in and presumably annihilated everything in a 10 meter radius, and then vanished. Gravatic sensors show no other anomalies anywhere in the city, and no other areas appear to have been effected. It seems to have been merely a small scale effect."
Dragon frowns. "Though, I'm not sure I like not knowing whether Bakuda could scale that effect up. On a larger scale, the gravatic sheer of a singularity could tear apart any forcefield or material I can think of. It certainly ups Bakuda's threat level if she is capable of something like that."
Colin grunted, and drank the rest of his coffee before placing the empty mug in a receptacle in the machine. "We have to deal with Bakuda soon. If we give her much more time to build, the entire city could be at risk. If she is this irresponsible, possibly even more."
Dragon's virtual face took on a solemn expression and she nodded. "Yes I agree. We have 18 hours before the planned attack. Lets go over what we know…"
As Dragon outlined the key evidence on Bakuda and Lung's locations and the plan of attack, Colin began cycling through the readouts and configuring his equipment loadout. For several hours, they continued preparing.
----
8:14 AM EST, April 24, 2011
In the middle of a long explanation about ABB movement patterns, Dragon suddenly paused. Colin looked up from his configuration menu. "Is something wrong?"
Dragon frowned. "I thought I detected… something. With a rogue tinker on the loose in the city, I've been monitoring internet, utility, and communications traffic for the standard Tinker indicators. One of my programs alerted me to a high bandwidth cellular connection suddenly appearing shortly outside Brockton General Hospital. No conventional cellular modem has the capacity to operate at the levels of bandwidth of this connection, and it spoofed a dozen simultaneous connections to the closest cell tower within moments."
Armsmaster pulled up the scan, but Dragon's programs were significantly outside his area of specialization. The information streaming across the screen was almost raw data, and very difficult to make much sense of. Seeing his reaction, Dragon isolated and highlighted several areas, and opened another screen showing a map of Brockton Bay, with the location highlighted.
"I tracked the signal for about 3 minutes, moving southbound on Wallis Street, at an average of 23 miles per hour. Then it vanished."
Colin's eyebrows rose at this. "Vanished? Can you track what what accessed?"
Dragon's eyes narrowed, and a range of screens began to appear on Colin's monitor. Data flew by, and hundreds, thousands of connections began to appear. "Whatever it was, it momentarily took over roughly 15% of that tower's total bandwidth. It must have been some kind of prepared program, or virus, because it operated far too quickly to be done manually, even by a Tinker. The program sought out dozens of different systems, searching for vulnerabilities, accessing government and non-governmental databases, seeking out data in Toronto, Mumbai, Vancouver, and New York. There are too many individual streams, I cannot tell what the actual goal of the program was without more time to analyze each branch."
"It's slightly worrying to see a program even you can't trace within minutes Dragon, even moreso worrying that you then lost track of it entirely." Colin responded. "Is there anything about the point of termination that could shed light on why you lost the signal?"
Dragon shakes her head. "Not that I can see. The program sought out certain information - publicly available government records and forms from Delaware, a manifest of the PHO Cape Database in New York, communication and internet access logs in Toronto, login credentials for an Endbringer memorial site in Japan, the list goes on. Several of these had reported back to the source before it suddenly went completely dark to me. I cannot find any connection on any of the other towers in the area that matches the same signature. It is possible that it detected my probes and shut down."
Colin pulled up his own, not as effective search algorithms and began to run a scan. "Hmm. I have something. There was a notice from some troopers at Brockton General about an hour ago that Panacea had invoked the Kyushu Accords on what may be a new trigger. She spent about two hours in the room with this person, and when she left she asked to be brought to the PRT HQ. Following standard protocols for an out of character response when interacting with a new trigger, the Lieutenant on scene called in Master/Stranger Protocols on Panacea and the new trigger, temporarily codenamed "Regen", as the doctors called in Panacea after noting that the subject was healing much faster than usual from some serious injuries."
The screen continued to scroll downward as Armsmaster continued reading the report. "It looks like he came in from the ABB and E88 fight that occured while I was asleep. No gang signs, no identification, and he was wearing some seriously damaged civilian clothing. He could have been a Medhall employee working late, wrong place wrong time, teams are still trying to dig out any computers in the rubble, but it's seriously low priority right now."
Armsmaster highlights a document, and notes the tracking device on the PRT transport vehicle usually stationed at Brockton General when Panacea is in attendance. "But look at this. PRT Transport 185 left Brockton General with Panacea, 4 troopers and codename Regen two minutes before you first picked up the signal. The transponder shows the vehicle travelling southbound on Willis Street at precisely the same time you picked up the cellular tower connection."
Armsmaster hits a few keys, and the two datastreams sync up. The location data is identical, but when the cellular tracking ends, the transponder data continues. "Reports from the squad before the transport left indicates that neither Regen nor Panacea had any electronic devices on them other than Panacea's phone. Panacea's phone is PRT issue, but does not have nearly the bandwidth to make the connections you detected."
Armsmaster rises from his seat and triggers a command in his visor. An armory to the east of the screen opens and a particular halberd extends outward perfectly timed for him to grab - his anti- tinker weapon.
"Transport 185 is scheduled to arrive in the garage in 6 minutes. I can be there in 3." Armsmaster opened a radio channel to the garage, and ordered Transport 185 to be locked down pending his arrival when it came in.
Closing the channel he turned back to Dragon.
"I need to find out what this Tinker is doing, and in the worst case scenario we may have a Tinker/Master who has compromised Panacea." Armsmaster grimaced. "This is the worst possible time for this."
Dragon nodded, her virtual face grave. "Understood. Colin, be careful. I don't have any suits in the area, and I am not finished modifying my primary suit for the Lung fight this afternoon. I can't get anything there for 4 hours, minimum."
Armsmaster nods. "I can handle this. See if you can pick up that program or what it was looking for. It might give us an idea of what's going on here."
Armsmaster begins walking out of the lab, mentally reviewing the quickest path to the vehicle bay. This would have to happen now. What's next, the Slaughterhouse Nine come to visit?
He grinds his teeth under his helmet. No, even he can't be that unlucky.
He continues down the path to the garage, mentally reviewing his anti-tinker and anti-master protocols.
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