Wyvern
Part Twenty-Three: The Proposition
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]
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♦ Topic: All Hail
In: Boards ► World ► United States ► Brockton Bay ► Capes ► Wyvern ► Welcoming Our New Draconic Overlord
MadTinfoilHatter312 (Original Poster) (Temp Banned)
Posted On Jan 21st 2011:
I'll be honest.
Up until yesterday, I thought Wyvern was just another flashy cape. Sure, she's a dragon, but that's actually less quirky than some powers out there. Flight, durability, Blaster ability ... typical cape, right? Typical cape.
When she bulked out to fight Inago, I kind of paid attention, because that was a step up. But even then, I figured it was something she had to really work to achieve. Capes do this sort of thing, yeah?
And then ... the Nine came to town and poked the bear. I mean, the dragon.
Um.
I have no words for what must've happened next. If Jack Slash didn't have brown pants by the time she finished demolishing the team around him and NOMMING DOWN ON FUCKING CRAWLER, then he was a better man than I'll ever be (spoilers: I don't believe it for a second).
I woke up last night, wondering why the thunder sounded like words, and looked out my window. When I saw her perching on Captain's Hill like every bad fantasy movie ever, I honestly thought I was having a nightmare.
Then, when I realized I was awake and she was still there, that's when I came to my Epiphany.
Wyvern isn't a cape.
She's more than that.
Much more.
She is a dark and benevolent goddess in draconic form, and she deserves our devotion. She is here to Protect us from the Forces of Evil and we must acknowledge this, so she does not tire of our presence.
All hail our new draconic overlord.
All hail Wyvern.
I have spoken.
(Showing page 74 of 128)
►Laotsunn (Kyushu Survivor)
Replied On Jan 22nd 2011:
Listen, all I'm saying is, I got off Kyushu just before Leviathan sank the whole damn island. I've SEEN an Endbringer. And now I've got something living in the same damn city as me that's ten times bigger and scarier than the biggest Endbringer out there.
Why does the universe hate me?
►Gerk_McThudge
Replied On Jan 22nd 2011:
Here's a scary thought. What if this isn't her final size?
inb4 she goes full-on Ancalagon the Black.
►Brocktonite03 (Veteran Member)
Replied On Jan 22nd 2011:
Having watched the power demo (and suffered through endless geek-outs of power pundits online) I've just got one question:
Is it too late to throw my name into the hat to be considered for the role of High Priest? I'm told I've got a talent for groveling.
►AverageAlexandros (Cape Husband)
Replied On Jan 22nd 2011:
Just gonna say, Hero's got some serious mojo for asking Wyvern to stand still for power testing ... and doing it in such a way that she agreed. (I've heard rumors she was firmly against letting the PRT poke and prod her, just saying).
►WavyLight
Replied On Jan 22nd 2011:
I'm personally worried the cape gangs might try to bring in a Master from outside to bend her to their will. If she goes villain, the whole city will potentially end up as a smoking crater.
►Bagrat (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)
Replied On Jan 22nd 2011:
I have it on good authority that the Nine already included Cherish, an emotion controlling Master. Pretty sure she would've been working on Wyvern as hard as she could, and Wyvern still ganked the whole team.
"Do not try to Master Wyverns, for you are crunchy and good with ketchup".
►Undying345
Replied On Jan 22nd 2011:
Yeah, but what about Endbringers? I mean, the real deal. They're a lot tougher than they look, and Behemoth (just for instance) wouldn't even be worried about that flame. He throws enough of it around as it is.
►Tangle
Replied On Jan 22nd 2011:
I guess the big question is: can Behemoth stand up to her disintegration effect? Is that a type of energy he can affect?
Even if it is, can he stand up to the cold blast thing? Last I checked, cold is the absence of energy.
I guess we'll have to wait and see.
►Splinter684
Replied On Jan 22nd 2011:
That's ... actually a really good question.
If Wyvern is subtracting energy, can Behemoth add enough to overcome it, or can she freeze him solid?
Given that she briefly made it snow over most of the city just for funsies ...
►Dark_Lord_Follower_9999 (Banned)
Replied On Jan 22nd 2011:
Cease your heresy at once.
Our Dark Lord Behemoth controls all the energy. His wrath knows no bounds, and he will destroy the pretender Wyvern with the greatest of ease. She will fall before him, as will all unbelievers.
His Power shall reign triumphant.
End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 72, 73, 74, 75, 76 ... 126, 127, 128
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<><>
Taylor
Vicky pushed back from the computer to give me room to read the messages properly. "It went downhill after this bit," she explained. "Some Fallen assholes started trying to flood the boards, but once they got into a full-on screaming match with MadTinfoilHatter, complete with all-caps and elaborate threats, the mods clamped down and started issuing threadbans."
"Ugh." I grimaced, not at all happy about the whole thing. Especially the 'draconic overlord' bit. Even though Vicky thought it was hilarious. As for the people trying to apply for the job of high priest …
nope. Just nope. "Should I put a post up, explaining that they're going way too far and how I'm just another cape?"
"Albeit a terrifyingly powerful one?" Vicky raised her eyebrows, then smirked at the dirty look I sent her way. "Sorry, wouldn't work. By now, everyone still posting has got the bit in their teeth and they're charging ahead on their own personal hobby-horse; everyone else's opinion be damned. If you posted up right now, the all-hail crew would see it as a visitation from their deity but interpret what you're saying to whatever they want it to mean. Meanwhile, the trolls would argue with you and make out you're an impostor, posting under Wyvern's name. We've had several attempts at that so far already. The normal fans would mob you, asking for any and all information. And the haters would try to dogpile you out of existence." She shook her head. "Right now, the whole thread is a hot mess I wouldn't inflict on my worst enemy. If I
had a worst enemy."
"Great." I rolled my eyes. "So much for connecting to the public and reassuring them that they're in no danger from me, and there's no need to worship me."
Amy snorted. "There's always a divide between capes and non-capes. It gets pretty tenuous when you're down in the C and D lists, but A and B list capes get some respect and S-rank capes get
lots of it. The trouble with the majority of capes is this respect is due specifically to their powers. And if the public is paying attention to
your powers? They've just learned how your cute little human-sized Changer form can become a gigantic flying predator capable of obliterating the whole damn city from thirty thousand feet, and eating a crosstown bus as a light snack." Her tone became even more sour. "And Vicky wonders why I never tell anyone about everything
I'm able to do."
"So I can't win." I shook my head. "If I'd refused the demonstration, word would've gotten out pretty quickly anyway because everyone saw me on Captain's Hill, only there'd be a lot more speculation. I did a controlled demonstration with Hero's assistance, making sure nobody got hurt, and even said a few words to the public afterward, and
this happens. What should I do? Can this even be fixed? What if we went down to the Boardwalk and just had a general meet-and-greet with the public?"
Vicky appeared to consider it, then shook her head. "No. It might go well at first, but there are some in this city who have a vested interest in you not being accepted as a popular hero."
I stared at her, more shocked than I wanted to admit. "What?"
"The Winslow thing," Amy filled in. "Whoever faked out Armsmaster with that stupid tip-off knew exactly what they were doing.
And they've got the pull to make your idiot principal try to force you back to Winslow."
"What she said," Vicky agreed. "If we went down there, these people would get someone on site just as quickly as they could, with orders to make you look as bad as possible. Provoke you into attacking them, or failing that, into doing something they can interpret as an attack. And you can be damn sure the news crews will run with any stories like that. '
Wyvern: is the huge scary dragon out of control?' will get the public's attention a hell of a lot faster than '
Wyvern: our big cuddly dragon isn't dangerous at all'. See what I mean?"
"Wait, let's rewind for a second." I made the time-out gesture. "So, if the Armsmaster thing was a deliberate attempt to get me in trouble, has anyone actually investigated it?"
"Yeah. Mom was following it pretty closely." Vicky shrugged. "Blackwell says she got a call from someone claiming to be a PRT officer, and who knew all the right code words. But the name they gave didn't belong to anyone in the building. So, it's either an outsider who knows the procedure or an insider who knew there'd be blowback."
I shook my head again. "And you wonder why I'm totally reluctant to go anywhere near the PRT for any reason. I don't know which possibility is worse: that people can just impersonate them with ease, or there might be one or more of them who hates me so badly they don't want me to be a hero at all."
"To be fair, the PRT command structure almost certainly isn't behind this," Vicky said, apparently trying for a reassuring tone. "It's worrying that someone's doing this and they haven't been caught yet, but if they keep trying we'll catch up with them sooner or later."
"Yeah, but will it be before or
after they convince the
actual PRT to draft me, Birdcage me, or just snipe me from two city blocks away?" I snarked, trying to tell myself that I was worried for no reason. The PRT were the good guys, and had checks and balances to prevent this sort of thing … didn't they?
Before Vicky or Amy could comment, there was a knock on the bedroom door. "Taylor, are you in there?" called Mrs Dallon.
"Yeah, I'm here," I said, going over and opening the door. "What's up? Has Dad called?"
"No." She shook her head. "But Director Piggot has."
"What?" All of a sudden, my unformed fears seemed to gain quite a bit more substance. "Why?"
"She didn't share that with me." Mrs Dallon gestured toward the stairs. "The phone's downstairs in my office. We'll take the call in there—
just the two of us," she added sharply as Vicky came over to us, "—and find out what she wants."
"What?" Vicky looked as betrayed as she sounded. "Taylor's our
teammate. We've got a right to know what the Director wants."
Her mother was evidently used to dealing with her in these situations; her voice had no give in it at all. "And we'll fill you in, just as soon as we're done with the phone call. Come along, Taylor."
I followed Mrs Dallon along the corridor and down the stairs. We entered her office and I took my customary chair in front of her desk. With the door closed, it was quiet and peaceful in there, with the faint odour of wood polish overlaying the smell of old books.
Mrs Dallon sat down in her office chair and tapped the phone on the desk, activating the speaker. "Director Piggot, I'm back. Wyvern is with me. We're otherwise alone." She gestured at me to speak.
"Uh, yeah," I said. "Wyvern, here."
Is she calling me to say I'm under arrest and not to move until PRT troopers get here?
"Hello, Wyvern." I'd never met Director Piggot before, nor even heard her voice, but she sounded like someone whom it was highly ill-advised to fuck with.
"I understand you are a member of New Wave and thus not under my command, but I would like to have a face-to-face meeting with you at your earliest convenience."
I blinked, my brain popping up three points for me to consider.
First, it had been explained to me that while New Wave was nominally an independent team, they were affiliated with the PRT. This afforded them certain advantages in dealing with the PRT, but came with obligations as well. Such as not hanging up on the Director when she called asking for an interview.
Second, everything I'd ever heard or read about the Director indicated that she didn't beat around the bush. The phrasing she'd just used was probably the politest she was ever going to get.
Third, the specific phrase '
at your earliest convenience' was essentially military-speak (I'd read somewhere) for '
right now had better be convenient for you'.
Which meant (in reverse order) that: she
really wanted to talk to me; she was actually trying to be
nice about it; and it would probably be a bad idea for the team if I just blew her off.
Now I was
totally curious about what was going on.
"I, uh …" I glanced at Mrs Dallon. She gestured for me to go on. "I can be over shortly. With Glory Girl, of course." There was no way I was going there on my own. For that matter, if I knew her, there was no way she'd let me go on my own.
"And me." Mrs Dallon's voice could've cracked concrete. "As a new member of the New Wave, Wyvern does not go anywhere in her Changer form without being accompanied by an adult member of the team. Today, that duty falls to me. Is this acceptable?" The subtext was remarkably easy to read:
if it isn't, tough.
"Perfectly." It seemed the Director was a woman of few words. "
I will await your arrival." She hung up, ending the call as abruptly as she'd begun our brief conversation.
"Okay, then," I said, as soon as I was sure that the call was over. "Did she sound mad to you? Because she didn't to me."
"No, she didn't." Mrs Dallon rubbed her lips with her thumb. "She wants something. It's the only explanation I can think of. There's something she specifically wants you to do, and she figures getting you to come to her gives her request a higher probability of success. Trappings of power, and so forth."
"So, I should go?" I was
pretty sure the answer was yes, but Mrs Dallon was a lot smarter about this sort of thing than I was.
"
We should go," she corrected me. I didn't care; it was what I'd meant anyway. "Victoria will be carrying me. Do you still have any of those adjustable costumes Parian made for you?"
I frowned; to my recollection, we still had a couple left. "Uh, yeah, but if I have to get any bigger than normal, it'll be shreds on the wind."
"We'll take the chance," she decided. "Whatever this meeting is about, I absolutely want you able to express yourself clearly and concisely. The alphabet sheet is a passable stopgap, but nothing beats being able to talk."
I was also reasonably sure the ceilings in the PRT building weren't high enough to accommodate me in my 'talking' size, so I nodded in agreement. "So … we fly there, then I change back and mask up once we're on site. Got it."
"Exactly. Also, I want you showing up in New Wave colours, to underline that you're part of
our team, not theirs. Emily Piggot has the right to make reasonable requests of us, but she can't order and she certainly can't demand."
"Totally." I liked the idea of showing up costumed for solidarity. "Can I fill Vicky in now?"
She smiled. "Yes. Then you'd better go get changed."
Vicky sprang away from the door when I opened it, then blatantly pretended nothing of the sort had happened. "Well? What did the Director want?"
"To have a face-to-face with me, apparently. Your mom says you'll be carrying her, if this is okay with you?"
"Try to keep me away," she declared, then gave me a searching look. "You're okay with me coming along, right?"
I pulled her head close to mine, so I could rest my forehead on hers. "We're New Wave. We got this."
She pulled me into a hug. "Damn right we do."
I returned the hug. It was so nice to have people (other than Dad) on my side.
<><>
ABB Headquarters
Geonchugga
"What do we do, uh, sir? Great Inago is imprisoned and the men are restless."
Shuchang was a veteran of the ABB; he'd been a member, so the rumours went, from the earliest days when Inago had forcibly brought the Asian gangs together under one banner. Tall, broad, scarred, he possessed a level of presence and authority that Ha-joon could only wish for.
At just twenty-two, the young Tinker knew damn well his nominal position of authority was only due to his powers. Sure, he could build mecha at every scale from human-sized up to towering multi-storey colossi, but this didn't translate to being a leader of men. Once Inago had recruited him, he'd been much more comfortable in his lab, building ever bigger mecha.
He also knew if Shuchang had been facing Inago, he wouldn't have hesitated before saying 'sir'.
The trouble was, Inago had been captured, and Oni Lee was dead. The never-to-be-sufficiently-damned Wyvern had detonated a fireball just as the latter was in the process of teleporting; he had arrived sporting such severe burns that he had lapsed into unconsciousness and died before anyone could help him. Which left Geonchugga in the position of leader; one he had never aspired to, nor wished for.
Attempting to break Inago out of PRT holding would inevitably lead to him facing the wrath of Wyvern. Her flame was patently capable of searing through the heaviest of armour, and he wasn't confident about force fields either. And even if he managed to hold her in battle (along with the rest of the Protectorate capes) while his troops went in, the lack of Oni Lee as a point man would hamper them greatly.
"Do you perhaps think I do not know that?" he asked rhetorically, in a bid for time to think of a way out of the inescapable trap now closing in around him. "Wyvern beat the shit out of
Inago. You saw how big she got. No matter how large I construct my mecha, she can become bigger and more powerful. If we attack the PRT building in force, she will be there to support the Protectorate heroes."
Shuchang glanced around, then leaned closer. "Keep your voice down sir," he advised quietly. "If the men heard you speaking in such a defeated fashion, they may lose faith in you."
Ha-joon shook his head, but he lowered his tone anyway. "And maybe they'd be right. I'm not Inago. I don't know how to beat Wyvern
or get him out of holding." It felt liberating to admit it.
"But you want to." It wasn't really a question.
"Well, yes."
Shuchang's expression turned thoughtful. "Have you considered a decoy attack far enough away to draw out Wyvern and the Protectorate heroes, so we can go in and get him?"
"Yes, but the PRT troopers have guns of their own, as well as containment foam and body armour." Ha-joon shook his head. "Even with the capes all drawn away, I really don't think we've got the manpower to get in there and free Inago."
The expression on Shuchang's face suggested a desire to contest this, but he couldn't find a viable argument. "Perhaps if we killed Wyvern? In retaliation for Oni Lee?"
"No, bad idea!" Ha-joon didn't know much about the cape life, but he knew this much. "
Hero came to town to test Wyvern's capabilities. We all know why this is."
"To see if she's strong enough to face an Endbringer." Shuchang paused. "Oh."
"Yes." Ha-joon felt relieved that the older man had figured it out. Killing a cape theoretically capable of fighting an Endbringer one-on-one, especially after the Triumvirate had shown direct interest in her … would not be a great move. His mecha were powerful, but not powerful enough to face an enraged Alexandria. Or Hero. Or Eidolon.
The
best outcome for such a situation would be to end up in the Birdcage.
"Wait, I just had an idea." Shuchang snapped his fingers. "Geonchugga … can
anyone use your mecha?"
Ha-joon frowned. "It is very complicated, and only I know what all the controls do."
"No, no." Shuchang sounded downright excited now. "Small ones. Man-sized. Can you make them simple to operate?"
"I suppose I could dumb them down, but …" Between one word and the next, Ha-joon finally got what Shuchang was talking about. "You want me to outfit
you with powered armour? You and the other men and women?"
"Yes." Shuchang stared at him intently. "With the heroes drawn away, assisted by power armour, we could break into the PRT building and overcome anyone between us and Inago. Can it be done?"
"I …" Ha-joon tried hard to adjust to the new paradigm. Inago had never even suggested building armour for anyone else, and he wasn't sure why. Maybe because the leader of the ABB hadn't wanted the rank and file to be anywhere near as powerful as the capes?
He shook his head. The 'why' didn't matter. There was a much more important question at hand.
"Well?" Shuchang gestured, inviting an answer. "Can it be done, sir?"
There was no reason he could think of that it couldn't. The controls would be minimal, and the suits wouldn't have jump-jets or built-in weapons, but such was merely a detail.
"Yes," he said, feeling a sudden excitement building in his chest. "Yes, it can."
Jumping to his feet, he strode right past Shuchang, heading for his workshop. Already, plans for basic power armour were sketching themselves out in his head. He'd have to build each one individually, but if he left out all the usual bells and whistles, it would save a lot of time and resources.
We can do this. We can really do this.
<><>
Taylor
We touched down on the roof of the PRT building, and Vicky let her mother down onto her feet. I furled my wings, closed my eyes, and breathed deeply. Even as small as I was in base wyvern form (relatively speaking, anyway) my body plan was mainly horizontal rather than vertical, and it would make taking the elevator into a distinct trial. Also, as Mrs Dallon had pointed out, I needed to be able to speak, in order to respond to Director Piggot in a timely fashion.
Concentrating, I worked at calming myself, breathing deeply in and out, feeling my tense muscles gradually relaxing. The question of '
why does Director Piggot want to talk to me?' still worried me just a little, but I had every faith that between Vicky and Mrs Dallon, the PRT wouldn't be able to do a damn thing to me which I didn't approve of first.
I still couldn't
believe how much my life had changed just from getting someone like Vicky as a friend. I could talk to her, sympathise with her about how her day went, giggle over the silliness on the PHO boards, and in general just hang with her. Amy was snarkier and more reserved, but she was still fun to be around in her own way.
Things are different now. Better. And all because I got powers that let me turn into a fire-breathing dragon. Well … fire-breathing wyvern.
My life really is looking up.
It was almost like trying to fall asleep; the moment I noticed the change and reached for it, it retreated. So, I stopped trying. Relaxing as best I could, I just let it happen.
When I opened my eyes, I was human again. Carefully, I pulled up the zippers on either side to improve my modesty, then took the domino mask out of its pouch and fixed it in place. "Are we ready to go in?"
"Sure," Vicky agreed. "You didn't need me at all, this time. Or the last time, come to think of it. You're really getting there."
"Well, I hope so." I didn't want to jinx myself, but I was quite pleased at the idea that I could manage the Change without outside assistance. The last thing I wanted was to be stuck in wyvern form when I absolutely, desperately needed to get a message across to someone. Charades and screeching probably wouldn't do the trick.
The guards at the roof entrance didn't challenge us as we approached, probably because they'd been briefed that we were showing up. Besides, it was hard to mistake Mrs Dallon and Vicky for anyone else. They'd be less sure of my face, but they
had to know me as Wyvern. If anyone living in Brockton Bay still hadn't heard of me, they were probably living under a rock, or in a coma. Or both.
"We're here to see the Director," Mrs Dallon said briskly anyway. "We're expected."
"Yes, ma'am," one of the guards said at once. "She said you know the way to her office."
"One way to put it," Vicky murmured to me. "I could even tell you which window's hers."
I did my best to keep a straight face. It would be
just like Vicky to fly up to the Director's window and tap on it, then fly away. I didn't ask her if she'd ever done it, just in case she'd never thought of it until then. Giving her ideas like that was probably not a good thing.
The heavy doors blocking our entrance rumbled aside, and we walked on through to the elevator. I felt butterflies in my stomach, fully aware I was walking willingly into the building that I had once stated I never wanted to go near.
God, I hope this works out.
<><>
Director's Office, PRT ENE
Director Emily Piggot
Emily's intercom beeped.
"Wyvern is in the building, along with Glory Girl and Brandish. They're on the way down to you now."
She didn't quite grimace at the reminder—it had always been inevitable that Brandish would invite herself along—but her lips did tighten a little. Bringing lawyers into the equation always muddied the waters, in her experience. She preferred things clean and simple.
And how's that worked out for me, over the last ten years? She chuckled dryly in self-reflection. There was nothing clean or simple about her job; she'd looked hard enough.
"Acknowledged," she responded, then put her laptop into standby mode. It would ping if anything really important required her attention, but short of that it would remain dark. In the time before her visitors arrived, she closed her eyes and mentally reviewed what she wanted to discuss.
There was a knock on the door, and she opened her eyes. "Enter."
As the door opened, she stood up, ignoring the twinge from her calves. Brandish strode into the room first, followed by a skinny teenage girl in a white costume with a silhouette of Wyvern's Changer form on the front. Despite the domino mask, Emily recognised the photo Armsmaster had supplied of Taylor Hebert, mainly from the long curly black hair. Last came Glory Girl, exuding an air of '
been there, done that'.
"Brandish," Emily greeted them. "Wyvern, Glory Girl. Thank you for coming so promptly. Have a seat."
She'd selected the chairs for comfort; unlike some of her visitors, she wanted Wyvern to feel at ease. Brandish took the right-hand one and gestured for Wyvern to sit in the middle. Glory Girl, following her mother's lead (as was probably instinctive by now) took the left-hand chair. It was clear to those with the eyes to see it that Wyvern's membership in New Wave was no casual circumstance. They were truly protective of her, and would close ranks at the slightest provocation.
Emily could respect the sentiment. She'd been thrown to the wolves herself, once upon a time, and the memory still burned.
Silence fell over the office; Emily could tell that Wyvern wanted to speak up and ask why she had been contacted, but Brandish had undoubtedly counselled her to stay quiet until spoken to. Brandish, of course, was willing to sit there and wait out Emily, while Glory Girl simply sat there serenely. After fifteen seconds, she could tell nobody was going to speak up.
Fine.
"I asked you to come here," she said, "mainly because of the astounding power levels recorded from Wyvern's test yesterday." She looked Wyvern right in the eye. "You have caused a lot of people to become very nervous about your intentions, young lady, especially after the way you rather abruptly ended the Nine, and showed your largest form to the world."
Brandish sat a little straighter in her chair. "Wyvern has assured me that her intentions are precisely the same as they were before the Nine came into Brockton Bay and kidnapped innocent civilians." Everyone in the room knew Danny Hebert was somewhat more than a mere 'innocent civilian', but if they wanted to maintain the polite fiction, Emily was willing to play along. "She intends to be a hero alongside the rest of New Wave. As you no doubt saw, she's extremely well equipped for the job."
Wyvern cleared her throat politely, causing Brandish to glance at her; after a moment, she nodded.
"Um …" began Wyvern. "What
about my power levels? Is it illegal to be too powerful?"
Emily only prevented herself from snorting derisively by the barest of margins.
God, it would solve so many problems. Her sense of realism kicked in a second later.
And cause just as many more.
"No, there's no problem as such," she admitted smoothly. "I could only wish more new capes had your level of restraint. No, I asked you here because I need—the
PRT needs—to know if you're willing to take on specific jobs.
Big jobs."
Brandish raised her eyebrows. "If you're working around to whether Wyvern intends to use her powers in the next Endbringer fight, we've actually had this very conversation with Hero. The answer was 'yes'." She glanced at Wyvern. "Has it changed since?"
"Nope," Wyvern said, shaking her head. "I'm still down for that."
Emily had, in fact, known this fact. "Good to hear," she prevaricated. "But that wasn't the task I was alluding to. Are you willing to go outside Brockton Bay to deal with
other ongoing threats?"
Wyvern leaned toward Brandish and whispered something. They had a brief conversation, then Wyvern sat up again. "Probably yes," she said. "But I'd need to know exactly what you want me to do first before I commit."
"And at least one adult member of New Wave comes with her at all times," Brandish cut in. "Also, same-day only. She's a minor, which means nothing is allowed to interfere with her ongoing educational needs."
"All perfectly acceptable." Emily would make damn sure it was acceptable. "Very well, then; there are two sites, quarantine zones, which we think would be amenable for your level of power to deal with. The first is Eagleton, Tennessee, where the Machine Army is." She paused a moment, steeling herself. "The second is Ellisburg, in New York State … with Nilbog."
"My level of power?" Wyvern frowned. "What do you mean by that?"
Emily looked her in the eye. "I mean, even the Triumvirate have been unable to mount a proper response to either threat. PRT-employed Thinkers have warned against attempting to wipe them off the map via mundane means.
You, however, have shown yourself fully capable of scouring a medium-sized city all the way down to the bedrock, from however high up you choose to fly."
"And the PRT wants
me to do what all the big-name capes can't?" Wyvern looked more than a little dubious. Emily recalled how blithely the girl had accepted the idea of facing Endbringers, and mentally rolled her eyes.
"Hell
yes, girlfriend!" That was Glory Girl. "Face it, Wyvern
is a big name right now. This'll be
awesome!"
"Glory Girl." Brandish only had to say those two words, and her daughter shut up. Emily felt a stab of envy; if only it were as easy to make the Wards be quiet on occasion. Then Brandish turned toward Emily. "Wyvern isn't saying yes or no at the moment. We need to discuss this in private, and hash out all the details. But right now, I need to set a few initial conditions. These are non-negotiable."
"Which are?" Emily wasn't agreeing quite yet, but she was willing to listen to whatever Brandish put forth.
From the glint in Brandish's eye, she'd picked up on that nuance. "First, whatever reward monies accrue from these two quarantine zones are paid
immediately into the same account the Slaughterhouse bounties are going into. Second, just in case either the Machine Army or Nilbog decides to fight back, I want capes in the air around Wyvern, mustering both offensive and defensive powers. I'll be pulling Lady Photon in on this, but I don't want her to be the only one protecting Wyvern. Third, as I said, she goes nowhere without myself, Flashbang, Lady Photon or Manpower. Fourth, also as I said, we will need to fit the timings in around her
other obligations. And fifth, we get priority transport—provided, or
paid for, by the PRT—to and from. You are
not going to make her fly all the way there and back. There may be more later as I think of them, but those are my initial requirements."
Emily considered the list, but it didn't take her long. Brandish could've asked for much more—a million dollars a shot, up front, just for
trying—and she would've signed off on it. As it was, the requirements seemed eminently reasonable. "Agreed. I'll have my people write it up into a formal document, and you can look it over."
Brandish nodded. "Certainly. But right now, I need to confer with Wyvern in private. Do you have a conference room spare on this floor?"
"As it happens, we do." Emily got up from her desk. "I'll show you the way."
"Thank you." Brandish stood as well, with Wyvern and Glory Girl following her lead a moment later. "And of course, the PRT won't be listening in or recording what we speak about in the room?"
Emily could've lied, but that was a bad way to begin a working relationship with a cape as powerful as Wyvern. Besides, she'd learn the result of the discussion soon enough. "I will personally ensure all such devices are switched off for the duration of your discussion."
Brandish's smile was hard and sharp, as though she'd heard what Emily hadn't said out loud. "Good to hear."
<><>
Taylor
The moment the door closed behind us, Mrs Dallon pulled out a chair from the conference table and pointed at it. "Sit down. Tell me what you think about what's going on right now."
Obediently, I sat; Mrs Dallon took another chair and sat facing me, expression serious. Vicky, clearly aware this discussion would barely involve her at all, perched on the edge of the table and watched with interest.
"Um." I paused. "Well, it's good, I guess, that the PRT doesn't want to arrest me for being a big scary monster. And if I'm willing to fight Endbringers then it shouldn't be
too much of a stretch to destroy some quarantine zones as well …?"
Mrs Dallon held up a finger to stop me there. "As a hero, I agree with your sentiment. But as a lawyer, I must caution you that any situation where you find yourself deciding it's '
not too much of a stretch' to add a new stipulation onto a pre-existing agreement is a situation ripe for abuse."
"… Oh." I decided to accept what she was saying. She was both the adult in the room
and a lawyer, so I figured if anyone knew what they were talking about, she did. "So,
are we going to do this? Or rather, am
I going to be doing this?" Because, at the end of the day, I was the one with the scary dragon breath.
"That's up to you, Taylor." Her voice was as intent as her gaze. "Are you
actually okay with this, or were you just saying it to keep Director Piggot happy? Because if you want to, we can walk back in there and say, '
thanks but no thanks'."
I frowned. "Wouldn't it make New Wave look bad? I mean, I
am kinda powerful, so to just throw it back in Director Piggot's face like that after she asked us nicely and all …"
"Taylor." Mrs Dallon paused for a beat after saying my name, probably to make sure she had my attention. "We are
never under any obligation to use our powers at someone else's whim. They are like any other aspect of our body:
entirely ours to use or not use, as we see fit. The Director can't force you to do this.
I can't force you to do this. Neither should I forbid you. The most I can do is ensure you're entirely up to speed regarding your rights in the matter. The most
she can do is prosecute capes who actively use their powers to commit crimes. Which this is not."
"Okay." I spoke slowly, trying to see if I was interpreting what she'd said correctly. "So, I don't
have to, but I can if I want? And the Director can't do a thing if I say no?"
She smiled. "Precisely."
I nodded. "Right. Then my answer's yes. I'll do it." I began to get up.
"Wait." She held up her hand, and I sat down again. "I've already outlined what I won't budge on, and the Director will be going along with it, but is there anything
you want for doing this? Over and above what I've already stipulated, I mean?"
"I can't really think of anything," I confessed. "Did you have anything in mind?"
"An award ceremony?" suggested Vicky. "Where she hands over a big old plaque to you on live TV, and she has to smile for the cameras?"
"Victoria …" Mrs Dallon spoke mock-severely, but I saw a smile lurking at the corner of her mouth. "Egregiously embarrassing the Director is probably not a good idea."
Personally, I thought if anything would make Director Piggot happy to stand in front of TV cameras with a smile, it would be the end of two PRT quarantine zones. However, I had another idea in mind. "Um … how about if she cleared the way with Mayor Christner and whoever else needs to be in the loop for me to deal with the Boat Graveyard once and for all? I don't have to worry about shrapnel from exploding fireballs anymore."
"We can definitely put the idea to her. Anything else?"
I thought for a moment, but couldn't come up with other ideas. "No, not really."
"Can we still do the plaque thing?" wheedled Vicky.
Mrs Dallon gave her the mock-severe look again. "Only if Taylor wants to. It's not our choice."
They both turned to me, and I bit my lip. "Uh, isn't Ellisburg the one where there's a whole lot of weird creatures running around inside the wall?"
"Yes." Mrs Dallon looked introspective for a moment. "'Nilbog' is 'goblin' spelled backward. I'm not sure who gave him the name, but apparently it fits. Why?"
"If I destroy the place, I'm killing a whole bunch of living things, and at least one human," I said. "I don't think I want to be given an award for doing that. And if I accept one for Eagleton but not one for Ellisburg, it'll look weird. So, no awards."
Vicky looked disappointed, but Mrs Dallon nodded. "Entirely understandable. Was there anything else?"
"Not that I can think of, no." I got up, then turned to Vicky. "Why did you want the plaques, anyway? It's not like everyone in America won't know about it anyway."
She grinned. "It's not for the plaques. It's for making Director Piggot smile on camera. I'm pretty sure she's forgotten how."
I shook my head. "She's a busy woman, and we both know it. I'm not going to be so petty to her, just for the sake of a cheap laugh."
"Good." Mrs Dallon nodded approvingly. "No sense in needlessly antagonising her when she can do something you do want."
"Exactly what I was thinking." I headed for the door. "Let's go give her the good news."
<><>
Brockton Bay Mayor's Office
Mayor Roy Christner
"Sir, you have a call from PRT Director Emily Piggot, on line three."
Roy grunted in annoyance. He'd only come into the office on a Saturday to deal with some outstanding issues. To actually have to put on his Mayor hat was irritating as hell. Fortunately, Piggot was as aware of the niceties as he was, and wouldn't be calling about something trivial.
"Okay, thanks." He picked up the phone and pasted a fake smile on his face; the easiest way to
sound happy was to
look happy. "Emily, what can I do for you today?"
"
The Boat Graveyard. If someone wanted to clear it in the next few days, what permits would need to be arranged?"
Well, she was nothing if not to the point. "Clear it? As in … clear all those ships out of the way? How is this going to be done?" And why hadn't he heard about it until now?
"
Assume they're just going to be gone. Out of the way. What paperwork needs to be completed for this to be legal, no red tape blocking it from being done?"
This was sounding more and more like a cape thing. "Uh … an environmental study on potential pollution, for one thing. Some of those ships still have fuel in their bunkers, and if that gets released …"
"Assume it won't. What permits are required just to get it done? So nobody gets charged with something stupid like the theft of ten million tons of rusting steel nobody wanted anyway?"
"Oh, uh … I couldn't tell you right off the top of my head, but I can look into it on Monday morning. Why? Is someone planning on doing something?"
"
We'll talk on Monday." She ended the call.
A moment later, Roy finally got it.
Oh, shit. Wyvern wants to clear the Boat Graveyard, and she's asked Emily to talk to me about it. It was the only thing that made sense. Wyvern's terrifying power demonstration had made a deep impression on him. The last thing he wanted to do was get on the wrong side of a cape who could snipe him with fire breath from right across the city.
Picking up the phone again, he made a call. His personal assistant was at home—it was Saturday, after all—but he had her number for emergencies. As far as he was concerned, this counted.
"Hi, Janice? Yes, it's Roy. Sorry to bother you, but I need you to look something up for me …"
<><>
Taylor
"We'll talk on Monday." Director Piggot ended the call and put the phone down. When she returned her attention to us, her face held a look of satisfaction, if not an actual smile. "He'll get the information for us. We'll know by Monday morning at the latest."
"Excellent." I couldn't help grinning broadly. With Lord's Port open, the way would be clear for more shipping to come back to Brockton Bay, and the Dockworkers would get a shot in the arm they desperately needed. Dad was going to be over the moon.
"Much appreciated, Director." Mrs Dallon stood, and reached over the desk to shake Director Piggot's hand. "When can you have the agreement ready for signing and witnessing?"
"Tomorrow morning, first thing." From the set of her jaw, it would get done if she had to type it out herself. "I'll contact you."
"Thank you," I said, standing up myself and reaching across to shake her hand in turn. She barely hesitated, then shook it firmly.
"No, Wyvern," she replied, looking me in the eye. "Thank
you."
End of Part Twenty-Three
