Trump Card (Worm AU) [Complete]

Taylor gains powers in the locker; this much is familiar.
But the power she gets, and what she does with it, begins to change things around considerably. Faced with the pressure of the power she has, and official apathy, she must make her own decisions, and take a different route to achieve her goals.
There will be trouble.

Disclaimers:
1) This story is set in the Wormverse, which is owned by Wildbow. Thanks for letting me use it.
2) I will follow canon as closely as I can. If I find something that canon does not cover, I will make stuff up. If canon then refutes me, I will revise. Do not bother me with fanon; corrections require citations.
3) I welcome criticism of my works, but if you tell me that something is wrong, I also expect an explanation of what is wrong, and a suggestion of how to fix it. Note that I do not promise to follow any given suggestion.

Index
Part 1 (below)
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
PHO Interlude
Part 11
PHO Interlude 2
Part 12
Part 13
Part 14
Part 15
Part 16
Part 17
Part 18
Part 19
Part 20
Part 21
Part 22
Part 23
Part 24
Part 25
Part 26: Return of the Dragon
Part 27: Setting the Trap
Part 28: Dragonfall
Part 29: Challenge Accepted
Part 30: One Damn Thing After Another
Part 31: Revenge, Interrupted
Part 32: All Cards on the Table
Part 33: Epilogue: Whatever Happened To ...


Omake: [/URL]Three Shards Walk into a Bar
Omake: Highlights

 

Trump Card

Part 1

[Author's Note: Due to critiques made by readers, this fic has been rewritten to a certain degree. Some plot elements have changed, but the overall direction is the same.]


I couldn't breathe. There was no air in the locker that wasn't tainted with the stench of the things that were sharing it with me. I couldn't breathe, and yet I had to, struggling and screaming and banging and retching.

And then something odd happened. Several odd things, in fact. At the time, it seemed as though everything happened at once, but afterward, I figured that there must have been a sequence of events, and an interval between them.

Looking back, the first odd thing was the spot of light that appeared on the side of the locker. It was so odd that my struggles and screams ceased, as if my brain were doing its best to distance itself from the horror of the situation by focusing on something new.

As bizarre as it seemed, the spot of light wasn't inside the locker at all. It was outside, some little distance away, but it was moving nearer to me, to the locker. At some point, it must have dawned on me that I wasn't seeing it with my eyes, but this was immaterial, because the second odd thing then took my attention.

The spot of light was speaking to me.

Not in words, nothing I could hear with my ears in the close, echoing confines of the locker, and nothing I could understand in any case, but there was meaning there, if I could just decipher it. It was a stream of data, almost intelligible, something like listening to someone speaking English in a very strong accent; if you listened long enough and attuned your ear to it, you could make sense of it.

And then, as the spot of light came closer, as the voice I heard without hearing grew louder, more clear, I made sense of it.

It said, You don’t have to be in here if you don’t want to be.

I didn’t want to be in there.

And suddenly, I wasn’t.

I was sprawled on the floor of the hallway, in front of the locker, looking around me with some bewilderment; the odd thing being, of course, that I had exited my locker, and left the majority of its disgusting contents behind, while not actually opening the door in the process.

Standing nearby, with several of their cronies, were Emma, Madison ... and Sophia.

And the fourth odd thing occurred to me.

I could see each of them clearly. But Sophia ... Sophia was illuminated from within by that same spot of light. The light that was still communicating data to me, more and more of which was becoming intelligible, understandable.

And suddenly, I understood a great many things.

I knew who and what Sophia Hess really was.

I knew, or thought I knew, why she had gotten away with so much at Winslow.

I knew how she had performed some of her meaner pranks.

I knew, in fact, her greatest secret.

><><​

As I struggled to my feet, I heard the girls speaking to each other.

“Holy shit.” That was Emma. “Did she just ...?”

“Stay back.” Sophia. “I think ...”

“What the fuck just happened?” Madison.

I got myself upright and stood swaying. Small, blackened, horrid things peeled from my clothing and plopped to the floor. My eyes fixed on the small group.

“You,” I growled. “Sophia fucking Hess.”

My fear, my terror, my disorientation ... it was all fading away, subsumed in a growing anger. I knew who the architect of my incarceration was. She was standing not a dozen feet from me. I lurched forward, nearly fell, regained my balance. Another step; it was becoming easier, despite the endless time I had spent trapped in the locker. My cramped muscles were becoming uncramped.

Sophia stepped forward as well, putting herself between me and the others.

“What the fuck, Hebert?” she snapped. “How did you do that?”

I laughed in her face; I couldn’t help it. Her expression registered anger and confusion; she wasn’t used to being mocked.

“How would you do it?” I retorted, and swung my fist.

It was a wild punch, but she was so taken aback by my laughter, my comment, that she didn’t even try to dodge. I clocked her, right in the mouth.

It wasn’t a hard blow, having more of an effect via surprise than anything else. Nevertheless, Sophia took a step back. She put a hand to her mouth, checked her fingers for blood. There wouldn’t have been any, but I wasn’t going to stop there.

Stepping forward again, I swung at her once more.

This time, she reacted as she had obviously been trained; she caught my arm, half-turned me, locked it down, turned me all the way around, and got both my arms up behind my back.

“Okay, Hebert,” she snapped. “We’re going to –“

I wriggled free of her grip.

Actually, no, I did not.

There was no possible way I could have gotten free of her compliance hold; she was stronger than me, and although my arms are longer, she had the leverage and the training.

But the voice, now very close, whispered to me again.

You don’t have to let her hold you.

And so I didn’t let her hold me. One moment, she was holding me, the next ... she wasn’t.

I capitalised on my sudden advantage; driving an elbow back into her ribs – that one would have hurt – I turned and punched her again.

Or swung, anyway.

Just before my fist would have made contact, she shimmered and went ghostly, just for an instant. The instant it took for my fist to traverse the space occupied by her head.

I wasn’t surprised. I knew what she could do, who she was. The voice had told me everything; or rather, it had told me all about her powers, and I had inferred from that who she was.

She went solid, swung a fist at me. I evaded it, exactly the same way that she had. Her fist hit nothing except shadowy air.

I saw the shifts of emotion on her face. All of this had taken a very few seconds; she was just now coming to the realisation that not only did I have powers – the exact same powers that she had – but she had just now outed herself to those of her friends who were not in the know.

Over her shoulder, I saw Emma’s face. She had seen the same thing that Sophia had; I was using powers. Madison was confused; Emma must have known about Sophia’s powers ahead of time.

More clues were clicking into place, but I was busy. I swung at Sophia once more. Of course, she evaded it by going ghostly. But I went ghostly as well.

It was a strange sensation; all bodily life signs halted. No breathing, no heartbeat, nothing. But my fist still moved, and it connected with Sophia’s immaterial face just fine.

We both went solid at the same time; Sophia had her hand to her face. “How the fuck did you do that?” she demanded.

“With great fucking satisfaction,” I told her.

She was barely breathing hard; I was panting fairly heavily. More of the horrid items were falling off of my clothing. She glanced down at them, and then back up at me.

“You triggered,” she realised. “In the locker. You triggered.”

“If you say so,” I replied with a shrug. “But you locked me in there, and you’re fucking going down for it.”

She shook her head. “Not a chance, Hebert. I’m fitter than you, and a better fighter. And I’ve been doing this longer than you have.”

"Really?" I asked. "So come on. This is your chance. Beat me up. Golden opportunity, right here."

I watched her hands. I watched her eyes.

And I 'listened' to the murmuring non-voice of the light-spot.

She came at me fast, practised. She knew what she was doing, all right.

Unfortunately for her, I also knew what she was doing.

It wasn't quite anticipation. But her powers were explaining themselves to me, in detail. And so I knew what little tricks she had worked out with them. And I knew what would work best in any given situation.

So I had a fair idea what she was going to do, even before she did it.

The small crowd of spectators was growing by the moment, even as we passed through each other. She'd been going to go shadow, then go solid almost at the point of contact, hitting me hard then going shadow again before I could hit back.

I went shadow when she went solid, then matched her transitions. Her shadow body passing through me gave me a little chill, but I shook it off and turned fast. I went shadow, instants before she would have hit me, then went solid just in time to kick her in the side of the knee.

Going shadow again, I reformed standing up. It made life so much easier.

“What the fuck?” she muttered, stepping back warily from me. I couldn't kick as hard as she could, but she was limping slightly. “How the fuck are you doing that?”

I grinned tightly. “I'm not the fighter you are. And I'm not a runner. But I'm as good with my powers as you are. Maybe better. You can't use 'em to cheat, not in this fight. You're gonna lose.”

That brought fire into her eyes. “You just said the wrong thing, Hebert,” she gritted. “I don't lose. Not ever. And definitely not to a pathetic little nothing like you.”

My grin widened. “First time for everything.”

I had been slightly mistaken. I couldn't pick everything she was going to do. I had thought she would try once more to gain the upper hand with her powers – Sophia was nothing if not stubborn. But she didn't. She simply launched herself at me, a fist swinging in a smooth arc.

If I had been even two feet closer, she would have clocked me hard enough to put me out for the duration. But I wasn't. I had just enough time to register what the fuck? and jerk my head back, almost out of the way. She still clipped my cheekbone, and my head jerked back, my ears ringing.

But then my instincts took over, and even as she tried to tackle me to the floor as a follow-up, I went to shadow. She came through as well, trying to wrestle me into submission.

But here was her problem; she had never had any experience in dealing with other insubstantial capes, who used her brand of powers. And the behaviour of things in that realm was not quite the same as in the real world. Sophia had no baseline to work from.

But the murmuring non-voice was filling me in on things I could do, if I wanted. I considered options for half a second, then moved my shadow-body around hers in a way that would have been utterly impossible if we were both solid. She grabbed, and missed, because I wasn't there any more.

I was behind her. Taking hold of her. Bracing myself in a way that should have been impossible in a shadow state – except that I had figured out how to let the soles of my shoes, only the barest layer of rubber, extrude from the shadow state. Against the vinyl of the school corridor, I had excellent traction.

In the shadow state, Sophia struggled as I shoved her, hard. Her mouth opened, working; if we'd been in the real world, where air acted like air, she might have screamed. Because I was shoving her toward the wall. Where we both knew there were very likely electrical conduits.

She could have gone solid, but of course I would have done the same, and she would have face-planted the wall. So she didn't. And I shoved her into the wall.

And what do you know, there were electrical conduits in there.

I felt her convulse – I only held her there for a split second; I didn't want to kill her – and then I pulled her out of the wall again. Stunned or unconscious, she went solid when I did. It seemed to be a proximity thing. Or maybe a safety thing.

“Right,” I panted. “Now I'll -”

“Now you'll do what?”

The new voice came from behind me. At the same time, there was a subtle pressure in my mind. I turned my head, not letting Sophia out of my eyesight.

Twelve feet away, a young man stood, wearing an easily recognisable costume.

Velocity, of the Protectorate.

Sophia groaned and forced herself upward.

“Help,” she croaked.

><><​

“Clear the corridor!” called Velocity. “Everyone back, out of the way!”

I stood there, irresolute, as Sophia painfully scrambled to her feet. She was recovering rapidly; I suspected that I should have held her there longer. If I attacked her, Velocity would defend her. And I didn't want to fight him. He was a real hero, unlike Sophia.

Everyone moved back, apart from me and Sophia. Emma had already been keeping them back a ways; now they were well beyond earshot.

I looked at Velocity. He could move faster than I could think; if I even considered attacking him, then I would lose. Being able to turn insubstantial would not help me in the slightest, there.

And then, as I focused on him, I made an interesting discovery. If I concentrated, I could move the spot of light from Sophia, to Velocity. I could even move it back, if I wanted. But I didn’t want to.

Focusing it on Velocity, the data stream changed, dramatically. I could understand it more than I had originally with Sophia, but I supposed that it was due to familiarity with the ‘accent’.

It was all about Velocity’s powers.

Huh.

“Uh, can I say something?” I ventured.

Velocity eyed me warily. “If you come peacefully, you’ll have your chance to speak,” he advised me.

“No,” I stated flatly. “I want to say something, now. Here.”

He compressed his lips. “Make it quick. And don’t bother making a run for it. You've got the same powers as she does. We know all the counters to her powers, and she could never outrun me.”

I took a deep breath. “My name is Taylor Hebert. Sophia’s been bullying me for months,” I rattled off, as rapidly as I could. “She and her friends locked me in my own locker with all this shit. That’s why I attacked her. I want them punished. They did the wrong thing, not me.”

I stopped for breath. Velocity was staring at me, as was Sophia.

“How the – how did you do that?” he demanded.

“Did you even hear me?” I asked.

“Oh, I heard you,” he replied.

“Heard what?” asked Sophia. “She coughed, or something.”

“This girl just made a statement to me at roughly one hundred to one compression speed. I understood it perfectly. What I want to know is, how is she able to speak that quickly?”

Sophia stared at me. “Oh shit,” she muttered.

“Oh shit indeed,” replied Velocity. “She doesn’t have your powers.”

He turned to look at me.

“She’s a power copier.”


End of Part 1

 

Trump Card

Part 2: Flashbacks


"How's your tea?" asked Miss Militia.

I sipped at it., then sipped some more. It helped calm my nerves.

"It's good," I confessed. "Really good."

Beside me, Dad put his coffee cup down with a definitive clunk.

"Can we get past the ass-kissing and deal with the problem at hand here?" he asked. He wasn't angry - yet - but I could tell that he was on the way there.

"Yes," decided Director Piggot. "Let's."

Her gaze roved around the table, from Velocity to myself and Dad, Miss Militia, Triumph, and finally Shadow Stalker.

"You all know what we're here about," she stated. "The incident at Winslow, this morning. Where one of our Wards apparently shut an innocent girl into her own locker with toxic waste, and left her there.”

I stared at her. “Excuse me, what?”

“Yes, Miss Hebert?”

I felt my voice rising; I tried to control it, but there it was. “There's no 'apparently' about it. It happened. To me. I -”

Director Piggot cut me off with a raised hand. “Miss Hebert, kindly contain yourself. This is a serious undertaking - “

“A serious waste of time, you mean,” I interrupted. “Cover your ass all the way. Downplay what Sophia was supposed to have done, until there's nothing to answer for. And if I try to get redress elsewhere, I'm the bad guy.”

”Mr Hebert.” Her voice should have turned the air in the room to solid ice. “Kindly tell your daughter to cease disrupting the proceedings.”

“I'm not sure why I should,” Dad told her, in a calm, measured tone of voice. “She does have a point. I've been in the odd negotiation before now, and a key tactic is to use language that downplays the other side's position.” He pushed his glasses up his nose slightly. “Why are you doing that, exactly? After all, my daughter was locked into her locker, there is evidence of what was in there with her, and she has named Sophia Hess, among others, as her tormentor in this case.”

He wasn't shouting, and he wasn't overriding her. I saw now my mistake in doing both. This gave her the perfect excuse to shut me down.

She looked uncomfortable for the first time. “I understand that the locker incident did happen. But the school has been interviewing the girls in question, and they claim innocence in the matter. Furthermore, it appears that the faculty is – at least in part – backing them up.”

I shook my head violently. “They're lying! Covering their asses! They've been letting this shit go on since – fuck, since I started at Winslow! And you're believing them over me?”

Director Piggot cleared her throat. “Language, Miss Hebert. I will not warn you a second time.”

I breathed deeply for a few moments. “Sorry. Sorry. It's just that -”

Dad put his hand on my shoulder. “Kiddo, take a breath,” he advised. Then he looked at Piggot, and his eyes were angry. “You're doing it again, Director,” he told her. “She was bullied for more than a year, she was shut in a locker. And you're pulling her up for swearing? I see exactly what you're doing.”

He deliberately turned away from her, dismissing her, to address me. “Classic technique. Cause the opposition to retract something, to apologise, and they're on the back foot from then on, more ready to offer concessions.”

I felt anger overcoming the brief feeling of guilt. “Director Piggot. Are you even going to listen when I say that Shadow Stalker's been bullying me for months? Or have you already made up your mind not to do anything about it?”

><><​

Earlier

“Okay, Velocity, once more, from the top."

Velocity looked ill at ease, seated in the chair before the Director’s desk.

"I got the call that Shadow Stalker was fighting someone at Winslow, with her own powers. I think the Barnes girl sent it in. When I got there, they were both in shadow form, and I didn't know who was who. Then one of them pulled the other one out of the wall, and dropped her, and they changed to normal, and one of them was Shadow Stalker, and the other one ... wasn't."

Piggot glared. "Why did you even stop to talk to the girl, rather than just taking her down hard? She had already attacked Shadow Stalker.”

“Look, I know it looked bad. But Shadow Stalker was still moving. The Hebert girl was talking. She could have killed Hess, but she didn't. I've been trained to de-escalate situations, and I figured that it might work in this case. So I decided to find out what she wanted.”

“You took a huge chance with an unknown factor, Swoyer,” snapped the Director. “You should have taken her down and brought her in. A dangerous cape ...”

Velocity took a deep breath. “Director, I don’t want to tell you how to do your job –“

“Then don’t,” growled Piggot.

“ – but you haven’t been out and about with Shadow Stalker. I have. She has an ... attitude problem.”

“She’s a probationary Ward with an attempted manslaughter charge hanging over her head. Two and a half years of being a solitary vigilante in Brockton Bay before we brought her into the Wards. That will breed a certain attitude. One which we need to iron out of her, yes, but understandable that it is there in the first place. Your point being?”

“My point being, Director, is that I’m actually fairly good at reading body language. When I arrived, I got the impression that Shadow Stalker was overacting. Pretending to be hurt worse than she really was.”

Piggot was silent for a long moment. “So you’re saying that you believe that Shadow Stalker tried to incite you to attack with overwhelming force, so that the Hebert girl would never have a chance to say her piece.”

“Or that we’d never believe her, given that she'd just taken down Shadow Stalker,” agreed Velocity. “But when she told me what she did, at a speed only I could pick up, it changed the whole equation. Made me wonder if there wasn't more to the situation, something going on that we didn’t know about.”

“Well, we’ll know more in a few moments,” the Director noted. “Miss Militia’s interviewing her now. By the time she’s finished, I’ll know whether to commend you for initiative, bust you down to probationary member, or hit the Endbringer siren.”

Velocity searched the Director’s features. She appeared to be serious on all counts. He swallowed involuntarily.

><><​

I looked up as the slim woman with the flag-print scarf entered the blank, spare room. There was a chair, moderately comfortable, and a table. There was another chair on the other side of the table, and a large mirror on the wall beyond. I had seen enough cop shows to know what was beyond the mirror.

I wasn’t handcuffed, which was a small mercy; however, the door had been locked from the outside, so the lack of handcuffs was only a detail. I had been allowed to shower; the jumpsuit I wore fitted well enough vertically, but bagged out on me like a clown suit. Still, it was clean and dry.

I knew the newcomer immediately, of course. More to the point, I knew her, all the details of her power. The spot of light resided in her now. Immediately, I began to learn all about guns. Weapons of all sort, to be honest, but guns seemed to be a really, really big part of it. I knew how they worked, what made them fail, and a host of other things about them. And perhaps most interestingly, I found that I could recall every single aspect of the fight with Sophia in the most exacting detail.

“Hi?” I greeted Miss Militia. “Am I under arrest, or ...?”

“Your status is, at the moment, fluid,” she replied bluntly. “You attacked a Ward, assaulted her in a potentially lethal manner. You also caused her secret identity to be exposed to other students in the school. The criminal charges resulting from such an act are quite severe.”

“But I didn't mean to do that bit,” I protested. “I didn't force her to use her powers.”

“Did you know she had powers when you attacked her, using powers of your own?” she asked.

I nodded. “I can feel when people have powers. They have to be fairly close. But I know who I can tap powers from, and who I can't.”

“Are you using your powers right now?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Who are you tapping from?”

I held up my hand, opened it to show her a small pocket knife. “Doesn't it feel really weird to know that you're armed every second of the day?” I asked her, placing the tiny weapon on the table between us.

I had not even considered attacking Miss Militia, of course. For a start, she was a real hero, just as Velocity was. She'd been a founding member of the Wards, and had since gone on to serve with distinction in the Protectorate.

Plus, as much as I knew about her powers - and I knew a lot - I felt a lot less confident about trying to overpower her with my borrowed powers. She'd had decades to learn how to get it right. And finally, even if I managed to get the drop on her, I did not doubt that the room would fill with containment foam instants after I tried something.

Besides, it wasn't her that I had the grief with.

She shrugged slightly. “I got over it. It's been a very long time. Since I was younger than you are.” She paused for a moment. “So, why did you assume that Sophia was the one who had shut you in the locker?”

“Because it's her style,” I told her bitterly. “There's three of them. Emma Barnes, Madison Clements, and Sophia. Emma does the stuff that hurts my feelings, Madison thinks up pranks, and Sophia does the physical stuff. Like tripping me down stairs, or throwing all my clothes in the shower. Trust me, this is not the first incident. Or the second. Or the tenth. They do this to me all the fucking time.”

Miss Militia frowned. “I had to deal with a little hazing, as a female Ward, who didn't speak English all that well, when I started … “

I had to laugh; it came out bitter, harsh. “This is not hazing.” Shaking my head, I continued. “You know, I used to dream about calling you guys up, having you come in and stop them all. I never thought that involving superheroes would make this worse.”

Her frown deepened. “Here's my problem. Your story sounds convincing. Very convincing. But then, so do theirs. And Sophia Hess is a Ward. So, against your word, and the evidence of the locker, we have the word of a superhero and two other students. You see how this puts us between a rock and a hard place.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, you and every goddamn teacher at Winslow!”

She seemed taken aback. “Beg pardon?”

I got up from the chair. It probably looked bad, but I was so agitated that I had to move, to pace.

“It’s the story I get every single goddamn time I try to complain. My word against theirs. Emma Barnes is the most popular girl in school, so when her friends back her up, and I’ve got no-one to back me up, guess who they believe? Shit!” I slammed my hands on to the back of my chair. “Why would you be any different? You're all the same.”

“Calm down,” she advised me. “Acting out in this manner will only make you look worse.”

I took a deep breath. Tears were running down my cheeks. “Why the hell should I? Nothing I say or do matters. I’m a liar, I’m not to be believed. She’s won. Again. No evidence I show matters, or counts.”

“Well, no,” she agreed. “Anything that you tell us about what she is supposed to have done will easily be countered by her own testimony that she did not.” Her eyes were full of sympathy; I felt that she wanted to help me, but did not know how.

I stopped. Stared at her.

“How about … written testimony?” I asked carefully.

She frowned again. “If you write something out, it's the same as saying it … “ she ventured.

I shook my head. “No. Previously written testimony.”

She tilted her head. “That could work. Do you have something like that?”

I nodded. “I need to make a call.”

><><​

“Hello, this is the Dockworker’s Association. Danny speaking.”

“Dad, it’s me.”

“Taylor? What’s the matter? Why aren’t you attending class?”

“Dad, I have a problem. I need your help. Please.”

I sensed the change in the tone of his voice. “What do you need?”

“I need you to go home, and go to my bedroom. There’s a stack of papers in my wardrobe, on the second shelf ...”

><><​

Director Piggot leafed through the sheets. “And Miss Hebert had no time alone to write this all up?”

Miss Militia shook her head. “She did not. She simply had her father fetch them from home.”

Piggot turned over a few more pages. “And this is just from September. Christ.”

“According to her, the bullying has been going on since the previous September.”

Director Piggot tapped the pages. “Shadow Stalker became a Ward at almost the same time as this particular record begins. This is where our responsibility lies.”

Miss Militia nodded. “I need to ask Shadow Stalker some stringent questions.”

“You realise that she will simply tell you what she thinks you need to know.”

“I know. I'll ask her anyway.”

><><​

I looked up as the armoured figure entered my room. Wavy brown hair, red and gold armour …

“Oh, hi,” I greeted him. “Kid Win, right?”

He nodded. “Miss Militia's tracking stuff down, so she asked me to sit in with you. You being a Trump and all, I was the one they had to worry least about.”

As the nearest cape, the spot of light zeroed in on him. I didn't force it to stop.

Immediately, his power started talking to me, building designs and constructs in my mind. “Wow.”

“Wow what?” he asked.

“Your power. It's really cool.”

He shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, well. It's not the greatest. I have trouble finishing projects.”

I frowned. “No, really. What's the best thing you've built so far?”

“A flying skateboard. But I've got it half pulled apart, because I needed to use the parts in something else.”

I could see the flying skateboard, envisage it, see the schematics in my head.

“So you don't know your speciality yet?” I asked.

“Not really,” he grumbled. “I've built all sorts of cool stuff, but none of it seems to really work better than anything else, or is easier to build, or anything.”

“Maybe it's not a thing,” I suggested, listening to the non-voice. “Maybe it's a way to build stuff.”

He turned to me, his frown visible behind the visor. “I'm not sure what you're getting at.”

I waved my hands. “Maybe you need to be able to take your stuff apart, to use the parts in different gadgets. Plug and play, that sort of thing. Multiple use?”

His eyes opened really wide. “Modular?”

I nodded. “That's the word. Look, what have you built so far? Let's go over them one at a time, and see how they could be done modular.”

He grinned. “Okay.”

><><​

“Shadow Stalker, I need to speak to you. Now.”

“Can’t it wait? I’m kind of busy. I need to get back to school.”

“Now,” repeated Miss Militia implacably.

Shadow Stalker came to a reluctant halt. “What about?”

“The girl we brought in. Taylor Hebert. Did you lock her in her locker?”

“No, I already told you that!” she protested.

“And yet she says you did.”

“That’s because she’s a liar,” Sophia snapped.

“You're very ready with that accusation,” Miss Militia observed mildly. “What would you say if I said I was inclined to believe her?”

“That you've been taken in,” Sophia told her immediately. “That she's manipulative and deceptive. She tells all sorts of stories about me and Emma and Madison. No-one believes them any more.”

“None of the teachers we spoke to mentioned her telling any stories,” Miss Militia pointed out softly. “And the locker was no story, no lie.” She fixed her gaze on Shadow Stalker. “She also mentioned valuables going missing from her locker. She thought someone was figuring out her locker code, but there are other ways to bypass a locked door. Aren't there, Shadow Stalker?”

“If you're going to accuse me, accuse me,” snapped Shadow Stalker.

“I don't need to,” Miss Militia told her. “Hand me your phone, please.”

“What?” blurted Shadow Stalker. “My phone?”

Miss Militia nodded. “Your phone.”

“But this is my personal, private -”

“You're on probation. You don't get to have personal or private anything. Hand it over. Now.”

Wordlessly, reluctantly, Shadow Stalker handed over the phone.

><><​

“ - and if you rebuild it so the power source can be plugged in via the socket we've put in the rear quarter,” I told him, “the whole thing could be broken down and the power supply and the lift panels could be reused at a moment's notice.”

“Holy shit,” he murmured, looking at the schematic he was projecting on the wall from a small device on his gauntlet. “That could work. That could really work.”

I nodded. “Of course it will work. We're Tinkers. Mere physics has to run and hide when we come around.”

The door opened, just as we started laughing; I didn't hear it.

“Well,” I heard from behind me, “you're less distraught than I thought you'd be.”

I stopped laughing and spun around.

“Dad!” I was out of my chair and running into his arms.

><><​

“They told me what happened, kiddo,” he told me, holding me tightly.

I held him just as tightly. “I bet they didn't tell you everything.”

“I just bet,” he agreed. He looked at Kid Win. “Hello. Are you the guard?”

The armoured Ward grinned disarmingly. “Hardly. Just giving her someone to talk to. It's been educational.”

“Learning something of how a Tinker does stuff, huh, Taylor?” he teased me gently.

“Actually, it's the other way around,” Kid Win confessed. “Your daughter just schooled me in the use of my own power. I'm very impressed.”

There was a knock on the door, and then it opened to reveal Miss Militia. “Mr Hebert, Miss Hebert, the Director will see you now.”

I looked at Dad. “Shall we?”

He nodded, taking my arm.

“So,” he commented as we exited the drab, bare room. “What’s this about you having powers anyway ...?”

><><​

The Present

“We have some idea of what she's done to you,” admitted Piggot. “Your written record, correlated with texts she has sent back and forth, seems to present solid evidence.” She paused. “But that's not what we're here to talk about.”

“So what are we here to talk about?” I asked.

“A very delicate matter,” admitted Director Piggot. “You are a Trump; you tap into the powers of whatever cape is near to you at the moment, correct?”

I nodded. “It doesn’t have to be the nearest cape, but that’s the easiest,” I replied.

“Kid Win and Velocity both reported that you seemed to be remarkably quick at grasping the uses of their respective powersets,” observed Miss Militia. “Who are you drawing from, now?”

“Kid Win, actually,” I told her. “He's still in range. We were conferring on how to make his Tinker work more effective -“

I cut myself off. They were staring at me.

“What?” I asked.

Velocity pointed at the pad in front of me. I hadn’t even been aware of holding the pen or drawing with it, but the top page was covered in an intricate diagram. I glanced at it, and it became a three-dimensional model in my mind, complete in every detail.

“Oh.” It was all I could say.

“If I could have a look?” prompted Miss Militia.

Velocity slid the pad down to her, and she studied the diagram.

“I ... have no idea what this does, but I'd like to take it to Kid Win,” she requested.

I nodded; she tore off the page and carefully folded it, before placing it in a pocket. “Director, I will restate what Velocity and Kid Win have already mentioned. She grasps the nuances of our powers very quickly indeed.”

Her tone was so unexpected, so full of praise, that I blushed furiously. Dad squeezed my hand.

“Well, then. Miss Hebert.”

I looked around at the Director. “Yes, ma’am?”

"In light of the evidence which has been presented, it seems clear that you are not at fault here. There will be no charges laid for the assault on Shadow Stalker, or the potential unmasking of a Ward."

I raised a hand. "I kinda got outed too."

She nodded. "We have people talking to those students and teachers. Believe me, they are being warned in no uncertain terms to keep their mouths shut over the whole affair."

Dad raised his head. "And are we being warned to shut up, too? Taylor was victimised for over a year. By your Ward. Where is her compensation coming from?"

Piggot looked uncomfortable again. "That was an ongoing situation that we accidentally inherited. Were I you, I would take it up with the school, and the parents of the children involved."

"But you're at least partially responsible for letting it go on," I argued.

She nodded. "And in recognition of that, as I said, we're dropping all legal consequences for what could have been a very serious offence. Also ..." She took a breath. “I would like to kindly ask you if you would like to join the Brockton Bay Wards program.”

I looked at Dad. He looked at me. I took a deep breath.

“No.” I paused. "Actually, let me rephrase that.

"Hell no."


End of Part 2

Part 3

 

Trump Card

Part 3


“Hell no.”

The reaction was immediate. Everyone began talking at once. Everyone, that is, except myself, Dad ... and Shadow Stalker.

Huh.

She was now sitting bolt upright in her seat, staring at me. I couldn’t make out her expression behind the scowling-woman mask she wore, but I could tell that her dark eyes were fixed on mine.

“ – for your own good –“ That was Director Piggot.

Experimentally, I concentrated and moved the spot of light to Sophia. It wasn’t hard; the more I did it, the easier it was. Immediately, I began getting the familiar data-stream explaining to me what I could do with her powers.

“ – need more heroes in the city –“ Velocity’s input.

I already knew most of it, so I shifted the focus of my power to Triumph, beside her.

This time, it wasn't really a data-stream, like the others. It was more like I was reading it off of a manual.

Triumph's main power was his sonic shout; it could pulverise concrete if he wished, or blast people across the room without hurting them too much. If one didn't count ruptured eardrums, that is. Apart from that, he was at the absolute peak of physical fitness and durability for a normal human; this was also an effect of his power.

There was nothing else there for me; I shifted the spot again, to Miss Militia.

“ – really help round out the Wards –“ Even Triumph had something to say.

I had been there before, tapped into Miss Militia's powers. Under the table, a knife formed in my hand. Then it was a gun, then a knuckleduster. With these powers, I knew, I could kill Sophia before the others could even react.

I shuddered and moved the spot of light along before temptation could go farther than speculation.

“ – be interested in knowing your reasons –“ Miss Militia was also talking, but not trying to out-shout the others.

The light spot settled on Velocity, and I activated the power. The world seemed to slow for me, and I had all the time in the world to think. Not that I needed that long.

I stood up. They all quieted, looking at me.

“Before we go any farther with this,” I said quietly, “there’s something we need to address.”

“Which is?” asked Director Piggot.

“What is going to happen to Sophia?”

She coughed, and glanced down the table at Shadow Stalker. So. I was right.

“You’re not sending her to juvey, are you?” I stated, before she could speak.

“We –“ she began.

“You’re not even kicking her out of the Wards, are you?” I went on, my voice rising.

Silence fell, the more damning the longer it rolled on.

It was Miss Militia who spoke up. “We can’t.”

I turned to face her, still standing. “Why? Why the hell not? You saw what she did! You know what she did!” I slammed both fists on the table, making them all jump. “For fuck’s sake, she shut me in my fucking locker!”

“We’re dealing with that.” Piggot’s voice was calm. “Shadow Stalker will be disciplined to be extent that we are able. She is a probationary Ward; proceedings will be started to send her to juvenile detention. But it will not be a short process.” She raised her voice slightly. “Now, kindly sit down.”

I sat. My hands were shaking; Dad took hold of one and squeezed it comfortingly.

“So why can’t you shove Sophia Hess into the deepest, darkest hole you have and throw away the key?” I asked bitterly.

Miss Militia sighed. “We’d dearly love to. But ... we can't do it. Not right away.”

“Why not?” asked Dad. "What's the holdup?"

"Removing a Ward from the position is tricky when the Ward is not willing to go," explained the Director. “There are procedures that need to be followed.”

“And ...?” I demanded.

“And sending her to juvenile detention requires a court date,” Miss Militia explained. “While we have her phone, your written record, these are just raw evidence. Allegations. They need to be cross-referenced, checked for inconsistencies, entered into the record, and so on. She gets legal counsel, who also gets to go over the evidence, and a court date is set. But until she goes to court, she's still a Ward, for PR purposes. Just yanking her from the lineup, throwing her in jail ... we can't do that, any more than the ordinary courts can."

“So ... this means that she gets to stay in the Wards?” I demanded, incredulous.

Triumph let out a humourless laugh. “More or less. For appearances' sake. Until she goes through court, the paperwork is all filed, and it's all made official. Then she officially retires from the Wards, and Sophia Hess ends up in juvenile detention.”

Everyone looked at him.

“What?” he asked. “I read the guidelines too. I like to know what’s going on.”

Looking back to me, Miss Militia nodded. “He’s essentially correct. Wards can quit at any time. But to be fired, there's a whole book of procedures that has to be followed.”

She muttered something under her breath, something about "youth guard" that I didn't catch.

I frowned. "So is this what’s been happening to date? Sophia bullying me and getting away with it?"

Director Piggot shook her head. “No, but it seems that the person we’ve had overseeing Shadow Stalker’s tenure at Winslow has been taking less care than she should have been.” She frowned. “I’m going to be addressing that during her exit interview.”

Well, at least one person’s going to be fired over this. But I drew cold comfort from the fact.

“So here and now,” I pressed. “Shadow Stalker’s not going to be fired? Not going to juvenile detention?”

“Not immediately, no,” the Director admitted. “We will be pushing forward the court appearances, but such things follow their own pace, I'm afraid. And if Shadow Stalker decides not to make it easy on us ...”

She gave Sophia a distasteful look.

Sophia sneered back at her. "Yeah, I'll go quietly. Like hell."

“Shadow Stalker, shut up,” Triumph advised her quietly but urgently. She shot him a poisonous glance, but closed her mouth.

“Seriously, what the hell?” I blurted, not caring that I was swearing in a room full of adults. “You’re going to leave her in a team full of impressionable kids, until she finally goes through court and gets sent to juvey, and expect that to turn out well?”

Director Piggot shook her head. “Oh – no, no, you have the wrong impression altogether.”

I stopped, halfway to my feet again. “How do you mean?”

“I mean,” she told me, “that she will not be partaking in any regular public activities. Publicity shots, yes. Endbringer truce, yes. Regular patrols, no. In fact, she will effectively be confined to base when on duty, or under house arrest when not.”

“Which means that we'll be down one Ward when it comes to going out on patrol,” commented Triumph.

“We could do with a talented and flexible power like yours to round out the Wards,” suggested the Director.

I snorted. “With Sophia there? Not a hope in hell.” I stood up. “Come on, Dad, we’re getting out of here.”

My father stood up beside me. “What she said, in spades,” he told them all. “Come on, kiddo, let’s go home.”

I was almost at the door, when I heard the mocking voice. “Go on, run away. Like a little bitch.”

I turned, fast, using Velocity's speed. Once the turn was complete, I put the light spot on to Miss Militia. She could already do paired weapons; I decided to try a variation. In my left hand, I held a taser. In my right, a heavy caliber pistol. The taser jerked as I fired it, the compressed-air cartridge propelling the prongs straight and true. They hit Shadow Stalker, nailed her through her clothing. Current flowed. She jolted, convulsed, slumped in her chair.

The huge revolver in my right hand was aimed dead-centre at her chest, the hammer all the way back. I could have fired. But I didn’t.

Velocity was out of his chair and almost all the way over to me by the time I let the weapons dissolve; I held my hands up to show that they were empty.

“Keep her away from me,” I gritted.

Turning, I stalked from the room.

<><>​

"She tried to fucking kill me!" shouted Shadow Stalker. She glared at Miss Militia. "With your fucking power!"

"No," Miss Militia replied. "She did not."

"I don't think so either," agreed Velocity. "She could have shot you, easily, before I got to her.”

"Well, it was assault, anyway!" stormed the teenager. She rubbed the spot on her breastbone where the prongs had impacted; it was still very sore.

"Provoked assault," Miss Militia corrected her. "We all heard what you said. I'm not saying she was justified in doing what she did, but I'm certainly not blaming her for doing it."

"So she just walks? After what she did to me?"

"I would be very careful, Shadow Stalker," cautioned Director Piggot, "about throwing out comments about someone getting away with their misdeeds."

Sophia fired her last shot. "What if I went and told Youth Guard about this shit? About how you're letting her get away with attacking a Ward? Twice, even?"

Piggot's voice was as grim as her expression. "I will be sitting down with them tomorrow, and going over how best to approach your case. You've already used up your welcome, Miss Hess. You're damaged goods. You have no grounds for appeal, not any more.

"We're going to be lucky not to take a huge PR hit. I very nearly had to accept a Youth Guard watchdog into the building to oversee all of our Wards' operations, to ensure that nothing like this happens again. And if you keep up your whining, I will push for incarceration before your court date. So don't push me."

Eyes wide behind her mask, Shadow Stalker subsided back into her chair.

"Make no mistake," continued Piggot implacably. "You will be under heavy scrutiny from now on. You will only go on patrol when there is absolutely no other option, you will not be going on solo patrols, and the school will be directed to report any more misdemeanours directly to Deputy Director Renick. And if anything even vaguely suspicious happens to Taylor Hebert, at any time of night or day, we will be looking at you. Do you understand?"

Shadow Stalker sat silent.

"I said, do you understand?"

Finally, the cloaked teen nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, I got it," she acknowledged. "Can I go now?"

Piggot nodded sharply. "Get out of my sight."

Shadow Stalker went meekly enough, but there was rage building in her heart.

They can't do this to me.

This is all Hebert's fault.

She's going to fucking pay.

<><>​

As we drove away from the PRT building, Dad turned to me.

"You all right, kiddo?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yeah, I think so."

"So you've got powers. What are you going to do with them?"

I hunched down in my seat. "I have no idea. But I'm going to find out."


End of Part 3

 

Trump Card

Part 4


I did some thinking on the way home. A solo career was right out; unpowered, I would not be able to depend on there being someone with powers nearby.

So I would have to join a team of some sort, and soon; once word got out that a powerful Trump was in Brockton Bay, some would want to hire me and some would want to put me out of the way. Maybe permanently.

I could see why Director Piggot wanted me in the Wards; with my insights, I would not only be able to double-up on any powerset in the team, but I could help train new capes in the use of their powers.

But that wasn't going to happen; mainly it was about not wanting any sort of proximity to Sophia Hess, and partly about not wanting any part of the team that allowed her to get away with it for so long. But also partly because going into yet another rules-heavy environment loaded down with teen politics and drama was exactly what I didn't need at the moment.

"Kiddo?" Dad's voice broke into my reverie.

"Yeah, Dad?"

"Any thoughts yet?"

I came to a decision. "Yeah, actually. Can we stop at a phone booth?"

><><​

I paged through the phone book, which was still surprisingly intact, until I found the number. Picking up the handpiece, I checked it for bubblegum or more noxious substances, then dialled.

"Hello, Mark Dallon speaking."

"Mr Dallon, hi. I'm calling about New Wave business."

His voice showed a little interest, but not much. "Very well. You have my attention. What's the problem?"

"Well, it's not really a problem as such. I, uh, I want to join New Wave."

That seemed to get his attention, all right.

"You are aware, are you not, that New Wave is not in the habit of taking recruitment?"

"Sure, I know that. But I figure that it's better to try and find out than to never try at all."

"Hm. You're also aware that you will be required to reveal your identity to the public as part of your membership?"

I was aware of this. I was also aware that this policy had led to the death of Fleur, and of Lightstar subsequently leaving the team, back in 2000 or so. Fleur's murderer had never been officially arrested, but some people had their doubts about whether the surviving members of New Wave would have bothered turning him over to the authorities. Certainly, no-one else from New Wave had been targeted since.

But that would be of little comfort to Fleur.

I looked out of the phone booth, at Dad. Could I risk his life? Did I dare take the chance that no-one would follow up my identity, decide to take out on Dad what they couldn't do to me? Heck, might they even hit me at home, take me out when I was unpowered?

The more I thought about it, the less I liked it.

"Are you still there, miss?"

I sighed. "Yes, I'm here. Sorry, I think I've been wasting your time. Thanks anyway."

"Have you considered the Wards?"

"I ... have my own reasons not to want to go into the Wards."

"Oh well. Best of luck then. Have a nice day."

"You too." I hung up, then looked at the phone.

Wow, I thought. He just didn't really care, did he?

Dad was waiting outside the phone booth, having heard my side of the conversation.

"So, didn't go so well?"

I shook my head. "No. I kind of forgot about the whole public identity thing, and how it would impact you."

He ruffled my hair. "That's okay, kiddo. I'm sure we'll have better luck elsewhere."

><><​

Mark Dallon put the phone down and leaned back on the couch. He felt vaguely as though he should have been more helpful to the girl, but he couldn't think how. I should really take my medication, he told himself.

But he didn't do that, either.

Hours later, when Vicky and Amy got home, he was still watching TV.

He had totally forgotten about the phone call.

><><​

Dad took me home, and started putting together a cold lunch, while I sat on the couch and brooded. There were three superhero teams in Brockton Bay; I was too young for the Protectorate proper, I didn't want to go into the Wards, and joining New Wave would mean outing myself and putting Dad in danger.

And I wasn't about to go out there on my own, for obvious reasons.

Worse, if any of the criminal groups heard of me, I'd be vulnerable. The truth was, I was too powerful to be let alone, but not powerful enough to force people to let me alone. And even if the PRT opted not to force the issue, I could not be certain that Emma and her cronies, or even Sophia on her own, might not 'accidentally' let something slip. How could I know for certain that someone wouldn't come after Dad, or even me, when I was unpowered?

The answer was, I couldn't.

When I first got these powers, I had thought them to be a boon. Now, I saw them for what they really were; a white elephant. Far more trouble than they were really worth.

It was a conundrum and a puzzle; a two-edged sword.

How do I get out of this mess?

><><​

Dad called me into the kitchen for lunch. We sat, and ate, and made desultory conversation. Dad carried the most of it, while I continued to try to work out a way out of the dilemma, only paying occasional attention to his words.

" ... TV spot," he finished saying, and I realised that I'd missed everything else he had said.

"Sorry, what was that?" I asked apologetically.

"Well," he repeated, "if we wanted to get damages out of the school for all the crap they let those girls put you through, I have a friend in the media, and she might be able to swing us a TV spot. Maybe something on Youtube. Raise public awareness."

"Unless we outed Sophia, our position would look pretty weak," I pointed out. "And if we outed her, her family would be in danger, and we'd be in deep legal trouble."

"We could run it as a straightforward bullying case," he suggested. "Let Blackwell try to squirm her way out of that."

"Mr Barnes is a lawyer," I reminded him; from his grimace, he hadn't needed the reminder. "If we start saying things about Emma ..."

"He's a lawyer, but he's also my friend," Danny objected. "Surely he'd be able to see reason?"

I pointed at the phone. "You could call him, see what he says?"

He nodded; while I ate and thought, he got up to go to the phone. There was something that was nagging at me, something Dad had said. Something significant. A clue to a solution.

The phone call was short and to the point; Dad did not do much talking. When he put the receiver down, his face was pale; whether with anger or with something else, I wasn't sure.

"Not good?" I asked.

He shook his head. "That slimy, two-faced, double-dealing ..."

Anger. It was definitely anger.

"Lawyer?" I suggested.

"That sonofabitch!" he exploded. "He threatened me with court, with bankruptcy, if I ever tried to make a thing of it! I thought he was my friend!"

I nodded sadly. "Welcome to my world, Dad," I told him. "Welcome to my world."

Slowly he sat back down in his seat, looking slumped, defeated. "What do we do, kiddo?" he asked quietly. "He's got the game rigged; no matter what we do, we'll lose."

And that was the final clue that I needed. About ten seconds later, the pieces fitted together behind my eyes with an almost audible click.

"Nothing, Dad," I replied, slowly. "We do nothing. Because there's nothing legal we can do."

He looked at me oddly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I got up, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and headed into the front hall.

"Where are you going?" he called after me.

"Just to my room," I reassured him as I trotted up the stairs. "I've got to get online. I need to check something out."

If I'm right, I may just have solved both my problems at once. If I'm wrong ...

I didn't want to think about how badly it could go if I was wrong.


End of Part 4

 

Trump Card

Part 5


Up in my room, I logged on to the Parahumans Online site. After idly browsing the wiki, I finally bit the bullet and went to the “Connections” part of the message boards, and created a new account, with a new username, using a throwaway email account.

It took me a while to work out the exact wording of what I wanted to say.

It took even longer to build up the nerve to actually type the message in.

Even with the message typed in, my finger hovered over the Enter key for the longest time.

Should I be doing this from the library?

But I knew that if I got up from the computer without sending the message, I would never muster the nerve to do it again.

I hit the Enter key.

><><​

“Hey, check this out.”

L33t looked up from the latest invention he was wrestling with, and frowned. “Disturbing my concentration here, bro.”

Uber shook his head. “No, you really gotta come see this.”

L33t sighed and got up. He wandered over to where Uber was sitting at the computer.

“PHO boards. So what?”

“Check it. A message for us.”

L33t leaned in closer. Sure enough, there was a message titled “Uber and Leet”.

“Noob,” he snorted. “Doesn't even know how to spell my name.”

“Check the message,” Uber insisted.

L33t did.

Below it was a string of comments, all along the lines of, “Oh great, another loser joins the team.”

They looked at each other.

“What the fuck?” wondered L33t.

“Is he challenging us or what?” asked Uber.

“Only one way to find out,” L33t told him.

Uber clicked on the username, and selected “send private message”.

“What do I say?” he asked.

The message, as they finally agreed on it, simply read, “Is this a challenge? If so, name your game.”

L33t read it through a few times, then nodded. “Looks good, bro.”

The message was sent.

><><​

When I came downstairs again, Dad was standing there, watching me.

“What?” I asked.

“What are you up to?” he asked me bluntly.

“I … what?”

“You made a cryptic comment about there being nothing legal we could do, then you went straight upstairs. What are you planning? Because if it's something illegal, I can't condone that.”

I shook my head. “What am I going to do, Dad? My powers only work when other capes are around. And I need some sort of protection, some sort of help.”

“The Protectorate -” he began automatically.

I cut him off. “- will do exactly nothing. You saw them. Cover your ass mode, all the way. They're not even going to be pulling Sophia from the Wards, for PR reasons. I bet she even gets to go back to school, like nothing's happened! And if I say anything, do anything, I'm the bad guy!”

He sighed. “I know, I know. Your mother would counsel turning the other cheek -”

“ - but all that gets me is bruised cheeks, Dad! They won't stop! Sophia's got nothing to lose, now. They're already really good at giving each other alibis. And now I've got a way to do something about it -”

“What are you going to do, Taylor?” he insisted. “Please tell me it's not illegal.”

I looked him in the eye. “It's not any more illegal than what's already happened to me.”

“That's not an answer.”

I drew a deep breath. “Mr Barnes, who's been your friend as long as I've been alive, threatened to bankrupt you if you tried to have what Emma did exposed. Legally. The PRT is covering up what Sophia did, concealing a crime from the public. Legally.”

I threw up my hands. “Is the law actually doing us any good, here? I'm obeying the law. You're obeying the law. And we're getting walked all over.”

“Watching others bend the law is no excuse to break it yourself,” he retorted, but there wasn't any conviction in it.

“It is if they're using the law to get an unfair advantage over us,” I shot back. “You know what they're doing is wrong.”

“I know, I know,” he admitted. “But that doesn't make breaking the law the right thing to do.”

“So tell me what is the right thing!” I yelled. “Sit here and take it? Wait for some villain to break down the door because Sophia said something at school and it got around that I'm a powerful Trump? Let Mr Barnes get away with threatening you? Let Emma get a slap on the wrist from the court system, because she's pretty and I'm not?”

Dad shook his head slowly. “I … don't know, kiddo,” he admitted at last. “I'm out of options. I don't know what to do.”

“Then let me do what I'm going to do,” I told him bluntly.

“What are you going to do?” he asked.

“Better you don't know.”

“Just tell me that it's not illegal.”

I looked him in the eye. “It's not illegal.” It was a lie; I knew it, and he knew it. But he hadn't asked me if it was illegal; he had ordered me to tell him that it wasn't. Which I had.

After another long moment, he nodded. “Okay, fine. Just tell me you aren't going to hurt anyone.”

“No-one's going to get hurt if I can help it,” I assured him.

We hugged; he rested his chin on top of my head.

“Just be careful, kiddo,” he whispered.

I rested my head against his chest. “I will,” I answered, just as quietly.

We stood there for a long time.


End of Part 5

 

Trump Card

Part 6


It was the next afternoon. I sat in Fugly Bob's, wearing an ugly sweatshirt I never normally dug out of the closet, the largest sunglasses I could find, and an old Brockton Bay Boomers baseball cap.

After I finally got a message back from Uber and L33t (and yes, I had been corrected on the spelling) we had established that I wanted to join their team, and had thrashed out a meeting place. My last message had read, Will be in Fugly Bob's, wearing Boomers cap. I'll know if it's not you.

I'd been sitting there for half an hour, wondering if I should get another basket of fries, when two new powersets impinged upon my consciousness. I say 'new' because I was already tracking two parahumans in Fugly Bob's. Fortunately, neither of them seemed to be there as part of a sting operation for yours truly.

The first was a mousy woman in her late twenties, accompanied by a teenage boy and an infant child. I didn't recognise her from what I'd read of the Parahumans Online wiki, but she had some serious power, based around flight and blasting. For a moment, I thought she might be Lady Photon, but she looked too young, and her hair was the wrong colour. Besides, there was the baby; I wasn't an avid cape-follower like some, but I was fairly certain that Photon Mom didn't have a third child.

Anyway, she wasn't there for me, and that was good enough for the moment.

The other one was a red-headed teenager with an older couple, who I presumed to be his parents. The man looked unwell, and his wife and son treated him with careful solicitude. The powerset I recognised at once; the teenager was Clockblocker, from the Wards.

Again, I was fairly certain that he wasn't there to trap me. But I felt kind of embarrassed, knowing who he was, while he didn't have a clue about me.

When the two new powersets showed up, I immediately shifted the light-spot to the nearest one. Immediately, I felt that I knew how to do virtually everything, and that what I didn't know how to do, I soon would.

That felt like Uber to me; I shifted the spot to his companion.

This was L33t all right; the light-spot started whispering to me the techniques to construct virtually anything I could imagine. But it was weird; whereas with most powersets, the 'voice' was calm and emotionless, if one could imagine a voice without sound or tone to possess emotions, the description of L33t's powerset seemed to be almost ... pleading? Almost as if it were saying, I am here, all this potential. Please use me.

I couldn't figure that out, but it wasn't really my problem. Uber and L33t had showed up to the meeting. Now all they had to do was notice me.

><><​

It actually took them a little while. They conferred, and split up. Uber checked the other half of the restaurant, while L33t came my way. I watched him from behind my sunglasses, while keeping track of Uber with the light-spot. In the meantime, just to see how Uber's powers worked, I learned how to do counter-surveillance and parkour. It was child's play. Everything was child's play.

L33t walked straight past my booth twice, his eyes skating over me each time. I couldn't believe it. Did he need glasses? There I was, sitting there, bold as brass, looking directly at him, and he wasn't seeing me. It got so I began to wonder if Uber had some kind of Stranger power that I'd accidentally activated.

They came together again, not far from me, and conferred again.

><><​

"Any luck?" asked L33t.

"No sign of him," Uber replied. "No-one wearing a Boomers cap at all. How about your side?"

"Haven't seen him either," grumbled L33t. "I think this is a bust. Maybe someone's watching us and the whole thing's a troll."

"Hey, wait a minute. There's someone wearing a Boomers cap over there."

L33t looked around. "Where? Oh, yeah. No, that's a girl."

Uber frowned. "Oh, okay." He paused. "But still ..,"

L33t shook his head. "A chick, calling herself Hax? A dude would call himself Hax. A gamer chick would be something like Princess Fairy Unicorn Sunflower or something."

"Wow, showing your prejudices much?" chuckled Uber. "I got pwned the other week in Space Opera by this chick calling herself Meteor Strike. Only way I knew it was a chick, we were on voice chat. She handed me my ass, bro. And that chick over there's wearing a Boomers cap."

L33t sighed. "Fine, go ask her. Serve you right if she pepper-sprays your ass."

"Fine. I will."

><><​

I watched Uber approach the booth. He was tall, muscular, graceful. More than one set of feminine eyes followed him over; I had to admit, I didn't mind the view either.

Leaning into the booth, he cleared his throat. "Excuse me, miss?" he began.

His voice was firm, resonant, deep. The sort of voice suited to an action hero. I began to wonder why he hadn't made a fortune already in the acting industry; he would be able to set his own price.

I nodded. "Yes."

"I was just wondering if ... I was supposed to meet someone and ..."

"I said 'yes', you idiot," I hissed. "I'm Hax. Get L33t over here and sit down before people start staring."

He blinked. "You're Hax? Really?"

To his credit, he turned and gestured L33t over before I even answered. They sat down opposite me in the booth.

“Really,” I answered Uber's question. “I'm Hax.”

“Wait, what?” blurted L33t. “You're him? I mean, he's you? I mean ...”

“Yes, she's me,” I told him tartly. “I'm a girl. That last bit you're going to have to take on faith, because I'm not showing you any body parts to prove it.”

It was becoming clear to me now. They had thought Hax was going to be a guy. Which was why L33t had looked past me several times.

“Okay, you're a girl,” Uber agreed. “That's fine. You want to join the team? Let's see what you've got to offer.”

I gave them a half-grin. “You know that old song that goes 'anything you can do, I can do better'?”

“What is this, some sort of feminist crap?” asked L33t, still obviously put out by the whole 'Hax is a girl' misunderstanding.

“Nope,” I told him. “It's my power. I'm a Trump. I can copy your powers and use all the tricks you've ever figured out to use with them, and add my own variations on top.”

“Copy, or steal?” asked Uber carefully.

“Copy only,” I assured him. “You don't lose your powers, just because I'm borrowing them.”

“So wait,” interjected L33t, “you can copy all of our powers at once? That's bullshit.”

I grinned and shook my head. “No, just one powerset at a time. Yours, his, or whoever else happens to be around at the time.”

“So whose powers are you copying at the moment?” asked Uber curiously.

“Yours, actually,” I told him.

He blinked. “I can't feel anything different.”

“Believe me, I can. To quote an old movie I saw one time, I know kung fu.”

“Well, that's definitely hax, right there,” he allowed. “Just being able to pick and choose between whatever set of powers you wanted ...”

“ … between the guy who can build anything, and the guy who can learn any skill, you mean?” I added.

“Hey,” L33t wanted to know, “can you build stuff that I can't? Like, I've already built?”

I shrugged. “We'd have to see, wouldn't we?” Privately, I was fairly sure that I could. His powers had been begging to be used.

They looked at each other. “So, bro, what do you say?” asked Uber.

L33t shrugged. “Can't hurt to give her a try-out. Even if she is a girl,” he couldn't help adding.

I raised an eyebrow at that, but made no comment. Girls apparently didn't factor very much into L33t's worldview. That was fine; he didn't factor very much into mine.

“Okay, then,” Uber agreed. “You're in. Welcome to the team.”

I grinned at them. “Player three has entered the game.”


End of Part 6

Part 7

 

Trump Card

Part 7


I didn't like Uber and L33t; nor did I understand why they did what they did. But I did understand two things; one, that a place on their team meant a sanctuary from which I could work without fear of forcible recruitment into one group or another, and two, that I could accomplish great things with L33t's power.

Truly great things.

It told me so.

I could change the face of Brockton Bay.

I could change the world.

All I needed were the tools to build the things I needed, and a place to build them.

><><​

“Okay,” began Uber, once we got back to their base. His voice was still resonant, impressive. Less impressive to me, now that I realised that he spoke in no other way. “There's a game plan we've been wanting to try out, but it needs three people, so we've had to shelve it until now. But with you here -”

I cut him off. “Sorry, boys, gonna have to call a raincheck on that one. L33t, your power's been throwing ideas at me, and I really like some of them. But I'm going to need more components than I think you have on hand. So we're going to have to go out and get them.” I dusted off my hands and beamed at them.

“Wait a minute,” objected L33t, looking like a ten year old boy who's found that a pushy girl has invaded his clubhouse, and he doesn't know how to throw her out, “you're not the boss of us.”

“No, I'm not,” I agreed. “But if I'm a part of this, then we're a team. And a team works to help each other out. Right now, channelling your power, I'm a tinker sadly in need of equipment to build with. So you're going to help rectify that, right?”

I grinned winningly at him; the skills to manipulate males into doing what I wanted were coming along nicely. “Besides, do you want the team of Uber, L33t and Hax to keep being bottom-drawer, or to become a name that people fear and respect?”

L33t looked at Uber, and they both looked at me.

“Now, listen,” objected Uber. “We do the video game theme. It's what we do. It's who we are.”

“And how far has it really gotten you?” I argued. “Far be it from me to change a winning formula, but you have to admit, what you have right now hasn't really turned out to be a winning formula after all.”

“But … video games,” whined L33t. “We can't just … not do them. People expect us to do them. They watch our channel faithfully. Our fans are depending on us.”

I snorted. “Most of your so-called 'fans',” I told him acidly, “are watching to see how spectacularly you crash and burn on any given show.”

The blunt words, forcefully delivered, hit L33t perhaps harder than my fist would have done.

“They don't,” he almost whimpered, then turned to Uber. “They don't … do they?”

Uber put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it supportively, but he addressed me.

“We don't always crash and burn,” he informed me steadily. “And L33t is right. We can't just drop the video game theme. It's integral to who we are; without it, we're just another couple of supervillains.”

With it, you're like just another couple of supervillains, only less successful, I thought. But I didn't say it; I needed them on side.

I shook my head. “I'm not saying that we have to drop it. Just that we might be wanting to pull a couple of less than public heists, where we don't actually have to use it. Sometimes it's better to be subtle than loud and flashy.”

At this, L33t looked a little confused, but Uber's expression turned thoughtful.

“You're working on more than 'a few ideas' from L33t's powers,” he charged me. “You've got a specific plan in mind.”

I worked at keeping my expression bland. I was getting better at that, too; however, Uber was no doubt getting better at reading it.

“Maybe,” I admitted, pretending reluctance.

Despite his misgivings, L33t was drawn in. “What plan?”

I grinned; or at least, I showed my teeth.

“By the time we're done, no-one in Brockton Bay is gonna want to mess with us.”

><><​

If Shadow Stalker had known that the Hebert case would draw the attention of the Chief Director of the PRT, then perhaps she may have thought twice about her actions. But then again, perhaps not; Sophia Hess was an arrogant young woman who believed implicitly in the privilege granted her by her powers, and its utility in keeping her out of serious trouble.

In any case, she was unaware that when the report of the incident – specifically, the description of Taylor Hebert's powerset – went online, Dragon ensured that it came to Rebecca Costa-Brown's attention as soon as humanly possible.

And so, when Chief Director Rebecca Costa-Brown initiated a video conference between herself and Director Emily Piggot, the former was understandably concerned.

"Emily," she began brusquely. "Tell me about the Shadow Stalker incident. The one with the Trump."

"It should all be in the report -" began Director Piggot.

"I have read the report," Costa-Brown cut her off harshly. "There is a great deal missing from it."

"The entire incident was documented -"

"Everything that was done and said, yes. But I fail to see exactly why you allowed such a valuable cape to literally walk out the door. Worse, you allowed her to gain such a negative view of the PRT and the Protectorate that she's likely to never trust us again."

><><​

"- never trust us again."

Emily Piggot felt that she was squarely on the back foot. Chief Director Costa-Brown's acid tones, carrying clearly through the audio link, made that extremely obvious.

"Uh, we tried our best -" she ventured weakly. It wasn't quite a lie, but it wasn't really the truth either. She knew that she could have done more, worked harder to gain the Hebert girl's trust. But she particularly disliked being put on the spot, and the girl's tantrum hadn't helped her case much.

“Indeed.” The pitch and spin that Costa-Brown gave the word made her wince.

Piggot decided not to elaborate on exactly why she had let the girl storm out without making more than a token protest. Costa-Brown already knew about one lapse of judgement; she wasn't about to commit a second one, in order to alert her boss about a third. “It was basically Shadow Stalker,” she explained, deciding to fall back to the truth. “The rules about not firing a Ward immediately -”

“Did you think perhaps that you may have simply had Shadow Stalker arrested on the spot?” snapped the Chief Director. “She is definitely guilty of several crimes already, just from reading the report.”

“Uh … ma'am … PRT East North-east is already on relatively thin ice, as far as the locals are concerned,” Director Piggot explained. “One bad PR situation may cause us to lose what control we have over the local cape situation. Besides, regulations -”

“Screw regulations!” snarled Costa-Brown. “Because you missed the signals from a sociopath, then decided to soft-pedal her punishment, you missed out on recruiting someone who had the potential to be a second Eidolon, or a second Alexandria! Can you imagine what that might mean when it comes to the next Endbringer fight?”

Piggot felt her world sinking away beneath her feet. Costa-Brown was correct, of course. She had handled the Shadow Stalker situation badly.

The trouble was, she couldn't think of any other way she could have done it without having Youth Guard putting pressure on her to accept a watchdog into the Brockton Bay PRT building. And Emily Piggot had long ago sworn a private vow to never let that happen.

“I will attempt to re-establish communication with the girl in question,” she promised. “I'll tell her that Shadow Stalker's punishment is being fast-tracked.”

Costa-Brown's voice was flat. “And will it be?”

“It will have to be,” Piggot admitted. “Which will cause a whole new range of problems, all by itself. But as you say, a Trump with that level of capability is worth it.”

Chief Director Rebecca Costa-Brown was silent for a moment.

“Do not make me regret this conversation.”

And then there was just a dial tone in Piggot's ear.

She put the phone down, and booted up her computer. She had work to do, and not much time to do it in.


End of Part Seven


Part Eight

 

Trump Card

Chapter Eight: The Debut of Hax


Über's fingers rattled on the keyboard of the small laptop, as he gazed intently at the screen. His lips moved as he murmured to himself, going through the steps we had planned. Entering one last command, he hit the Enter key with a flourish, and pulled the laptop cover closed. “Eight twenty eight and counting,” he announced in his resonant voice. “The hack is good to go. Ready when you are, Hax."

I opened my mouth to reply in the affirmative, then paused. This is it. This is the point where I can't pretend any more that it's just a game, not any more. If I do this, I'm a supervillain. I'm a criminal. If I get caught, I go to jail.

"Hax?" L33t's voice was dubious. "Are you wimping out on us?"

"Give me a moment," I managed. "This is a big step."

"Huh," he sneered. "I knew it. You talk a good game, but -"

Über overrode him. "We're working on a limited time window here, Hax. Is this a go or a no go?"

I took a deep breath. I didn't want to be a supervillain, but I hadn't really been given all that many choices to begin with. At least this way, this path, was my choice, not someone else's.

"I'm in," I confirmed. "Let's do this."

"Woo hoo!" crowed L33t. "Let's kick this puppy!"

"Don't ever let Bitch hear you say that," advised Über dryly. He checked his watch. "Thirty seconds to go time. Phase one, mark."

I wanted to ask who 'Bitch' was - in my perusal of the PHO boards, I had never encountered that name - but there would be time later. "Mark," I echoed.

My first criminal act as a supervillain was under way.

<><>​

We had taken a couple of days to get ready; L33t whined a bit about this, but Über seemed to be okay with it. I suspected that he was observing me closely, in order to make sure I wasn't setting them up for a betrayal down the line. That didn't bother me; I was putting their powers to good use.

From Über I picked up a range of skills suited to my purposes; running, jumping, basic martial arts, sneaking and hiding, and so on. I found that the skills lingered after I swapped my power focus to L33t, but tended to fade unless I made use of them semi-regularly. That was fine with me; I intended to use them just as often as I needed to.

L33t was sullen about the fact that I could apparently use his power to pursue avenues that he had already 'used up'. During my time in his workshop, I constructed two devices. One was a hand-held wireless taser - it had a limited range and not many shots, but it also had the advantage of being ninety percent off-the-shelf hardware; I'd had to tweak the capacitor that acted as an energy magazine to hold more power than normal, but the end result was a pistol that would fire maybe six debilitating shots before I had to recharge it. And it would fit into a holster in the small of my back.

Drawing, aiming and firing that pistol; that was one of the skillsets I practised assiduously.

The other device had drawn scorn from L33t, and dubious glances from his partner.

"A cape detector?" Über had asked. "Really?"

I nodded, still fitting the headband into place, then flipping down the goggle lenses. The cigarette pack sized module sat comfortably at the back of my head; it hummed slightly when I flipped the switch to power it up.

"Really," I told him. "It's only got about a twenty yard range - I had to sacrifice range for precision - but the right lens has a HUD that shows me rough distance and bearing, and the left will show a dot when I'm looking right at someone with powers." And, although it wasn't relevant, the lenses also optically corrected my short-sightedness.

"So does it tell you what the powers the person's got?" he asked.

I shook my head. "But that's what my power's good for," I reminded him.

"But can't you already do that if you're up against a cape?" Über wanted to know.

"Only if I know he's there," I pointed out. "If I'm focused on someone and another cape is sneaking up behind me, or behind a wall, I really want to know about it. Might be a powerset I can use, right there."

"You realise," L33t jeered, "if you get caught wearing that thing while walking down the street, they'll go after you for trying to find out secret identities."

"But I won't be using it for that," I protested. "Besides, my powers work just fine even without it."

Über cleared his throat meaningfully, looking from one of us to the other. "L33t, shouldn't you be making stuff too?' he suggested. "After all, we still need to get through security."

"She's hogging my workbench," complained L33t.

"Not at all," I contradicted, stepping away from the bench. "All yours. Thanks for the loan."

Muttering under his breath, L33t had reclaimed his workspace, and set about constructing devices of his own. I shared a glance with Über; he shrugged expressively. He and I had pooled our talents - freshly acquired, on my part - to plan this heist, and I found that we synergised well. L33t, on the other hand, was still visibly resentful of my presence.

I wasn't sure whether his antipathy was due to my inviting myself on to the team, or the fact that I could do everything he could as a Tinker and more. Or it just may have been that Über and I found ourselves on the same wavelength a lot of the time when I was sharing his power, and L33t felt left out.

In a way, I kind of knew how he felt - Emma had done the same thing to me, only more so - and so I tried to avoid excluding him from the conversations altogether. Unfortunately, even when given the benefit of the doubt, a resentful L33t wasn't a very pleasant person to try to get along with. There was only so much I could do before giving up.

<><>​

”I never thought I'd say this, but I miss Shadow Stalker,” Vista confided as she stepped over the rooftops.

Aegis, overhead, nodded. “You're not far wrong,” he agreed. “With her on permanent base duty, our patrol schedules are all messed up.”

“I haven't even been out this way for too long,” the youngest member of the Wards told him. “What are the waypoints?”

“Tonight, we'll hold for a few minutes at the North Side warehouse,” he replied. “Use the pause to get a feel of the area, make sure nothing's going down.”

She nodded. “Good idea.”

<><>​

The North Side Storage Facility was a huge, blocky building. For those not in the know, the name did not excite much in the way of interest. For those who were in the know – such as Über, L33t and myself – it was a clearing-house for nearly all the high-end electrical and electronic components that came into the city. During daylight hours, secure vehicles arrived and left on an hourly basis, bound for destinations all over Brockton Bay. Any Tinker worth his salt would give an arm, a leg and the vital organ of his choice, for the chance of browsing the shelves for half an hour with an unlimited charge account.

We intended to do much the same, only without resorting to the charge account.

Of course, this robbery would not be a simple case of strolling in, shorting out the alarm system and taking our pick of the merchandise. Literally millions of dollars' worth of equipment rolled through the place on a weekly – sometimes daily – basis, and the security was beefed up to a commensurate level.

Tinker-made detectors supplemented the pressure plates, infrared detectors, body-heat sensors, CO2 detectors and so on. The walls and ceiling were coated with a thin polymer that was designed to pull away (and set off an alarm) if anything over one ounce in weight tried to crawl on it. There were sensors set to detect the sudden change in air pressure that teleporters may cause.

In short, the proprietors of the facility had done their best to reduce the utterly astronomical insurance premiums engendered by maintaining a stock of highly valuable merchandise in a city riddled with criminal capes.

I suspected that we were going to nudge those premiums up slightly.

<><>​

Aegis had a lot of time for Vista. The youngest of the Wards, she had more experience under her belt than Shadow Stalker, Kid Win and Clockblocker, and more or less equal time with Gallant. He appreciated her professional demeanour, and the way that she didn't let obstacles stand in her way – both figuratively and literally.

Which was why he felt bad every time he saw her face light up, every time that Dean entered the room. Dean had an ongoing thing with Glory Girl; Vista had to know that. But still, she all but followed him around the base. And when she had the chance to go out on patrol with him, she positively glowed.

One day, not too long distant if he was any judge, she was going to come to the realisation that Dean simply was not interested in her. And the knowledge would break her heart.

As the team second in command, he felt that it was his duty to try to tell her, let her down gently. But he had no idea how to bring it up.

<><>​

Phase one of the plan was gaining entry to the premises. Phase two was grabbing the gear we needed; some of what L33t wanted, but mainly stuff for me. Phase three, of course, was getting the heck out of Dodge. If the plan lasted that far.

We were all wearing basic black coveralls and masks; L33t had (predictably) protested the lack of a video game theme. Über was also less than thrilled about the departure from their regular MO, but he had given it his provisional acceptance, so long as it didn't become an ongoing thing.

L33t had opposed the entire concept of robbing North Side; it was, he protested, a needless risk for too little gain. Über had responded by waving the catalogue under his nose, until he began to read through it. It wasn't long before his eyes started to glaze, and the protests dried up.

It had taken a while to figure out how to defeat the security system, but between us, Über and I had done it. The key was a thirty-second gap in the main security system coverage. Normally, this was not a problem, North Side had a complete second security system, independent from the first one in every way, that was checked extensively before being activated. At eight thirty every morning, the primary system went down for a thirty-second self-check and diagnostic, comparing every line of code in the computerised control systems to a hardwired offsite backup. The secondary security system went online at seven thirty and was turned off at nine thirty, once it was established that the primary was well and truly secure once more.

We couldn't hack the security system itself; multiple redundant system checks would ring bells all over if we even tried. Nor could we hack the secondary system; it was offline, on a physically isolated system, until it was activated in the morning.

So we hacked the system clock.

At eight twenty-nine and fifty-nine seconds, it would switch from PM to AM. At eight thirty, it would start counting seconds as minutes. At nine PM, it would switch back to PM, add twenty-nine minutes and thirty seconds to its elapsed time, and continue upon its merry way.

But in that half-hour interval between eight thirty and nine PM, it would switch itself off; all locks would open, all cameras would cease recording, all sensors would be ignored. The secondary security system, which would normally have taken up these duties, was on a separate timer, and would not register the primary going offline.

Of course, the exterior doors and windows would still be active; they were on yet another system. So we had to get past those as well. Fortunately, we still had L33t's talents; as irritating and whiny as he was, he was still a Tinker of some note, and he had just the thing.

As Über's watch ticked over to eight thirty, we climbed out of the car and advanced across the street. Each of us carried an empty duffel bag; I also had a backpack loaded with tools of all sorts. I didn't think I'd need to do any Tinkering while in there, but there was always the off chance. L33t, on the other hand, carried a rectangular framework, about the size of an ordinary door when unfolded.

“I still think we should have gone with a theme,” grumbled L33t, even as he opened up the ungainly framework and pressed it against the side of the building, not far from a door.

“Themes are for when you're doing things in public, for your web show,” I pointed out, as patiently as I could manage. “Think of this as preparation for your next show. Even award winning TV shows have dress rehearsals.”

“I guess,” he muttered, and pressed a button on the small module attached. There was a buzz and a hum and the area inside the frame shimmered slightly.

I glanced at Über. “Ladies first?”

He shook his head. “I'll make sure it's secure. Or rather, not secure.”

Such was his faith in his partner's tech skills, he stepped forward boldly, not even testing the wall first. The faith was rewarded; the brickwork parted around him like water, and he disappeared into the wall. I nodded to L33t. “Nice.”

He didn't smile, but his hunched posture straightened slightly. “Whatever,” he muttered.

Ten seconds passed, and Über hadn't come barrelling out; nor had he called any of the distress phrases over the radios we all wore.

“Player one, status?” I called over the radio.

“All clear, player three,” he replied immediately. “Come on in, the water's fine.”

I stepped through the wall, followed closely by L33t. Blasting sirens totally failed to greet us. It was dark and quiet, lit only by emergency lighting.

We were in.

<><>​

Aegis called a halt on a rooftop near the looming bulk of the North Side Storage Facility. They waited several moments, watching and listening, before he finally decided to speak to her.

“Vista,” he began. “I think we should talk.”

“What about?” she asked.

He decided to bite the bullet. “It's about you and Dean.”

She seemed to freeze. “ … what?” she asked faintly.

He began to regret speaking up, but now that he had started, he had to see it through. “Listen, Missy. I just want to tell you, as a friend. Dean likes you as a person. But he's not -”

“I don't want to hear it,” she interrupted him, turning away, and putting her hands on the parapet at the edge of the building. “What's between me and Dean isn't anyone's business. Not yours, not Sophia's, not anyone's.”

He put a hand on her shoulder. “Missy -”

“Shut up,” she told him.

“No, you need to hear this -”

“No, you need to shut up,” Vista snapped. “Look, over there.”

He looked where she was pointing. In a patch of shadow between two overhead floodlights, three dark-clad figures were clustered next to the wall of the storage facility. And then one person stepped up to the solid wall … and through it.

Aegis glanced at Vista. “You saw that, just then, didn't you?” he queried.

She nodded. “Either someone's stealing Sophia's shtick,” she ventured, “Or that was her just down there.”

And then the other two also stepped into the wall and disappeared from view.

“Uh.” Missy paused. “I'll go for 'stealing her shtick'.”

“That's the North Side Storage Facility,” Aegis observed, even as he took to the air. “I think they'll be stealing more than that.”

“Can we bust them?” asked Missy eagerly. “Pretty please?”

Aegis grinned. “Only because you said please.”

He swooped down to where the trio had disappeared. She would not be far behind.


End of Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

 

Trump Card

Part Nine


We had travelled maybe a dozen steps, with Über that little bit in front of L33t and myself, when a red dot popped up on my right-hand goggle lens. It came in at the bottom of the lens, and travelled upward, fast. That meant …

“Incoming!” I yelled, shoving L33t. “Run! Get out of sight! Now!”

L33t took a second or so to register what I'd said, but Über was already running. I snatched the opportunity to glance over my shoulder at where the goggles said the intruder was coming from; to my surprise, I was looking up at the wall, a good twenty feet above ground level. Then I got it.

A flyer. Joy.

“Flying!” I added. I was already past L33t and pulling away from him. “For god's sake, don't just stand there!”

With a jolt, his brain seemed to kick into gear, and he started running, following me. Or rather, following Über, who I was following.

Two things happened about then; the first one was that the dot closed to within ten yards, which was my nominal range to detect and determine the powers of a cape. I immediately moved my focus from L33t to the new power source. I recognised it immediately.

“Aegis!” I yelled. “It's Aegis!”

And then the second thing happened. Another power source appeared, even closer, at ground level. Right next to the wall, it seemed. I flicked the focus to that one.

Knowledge of distance and speed, ability to manipulate space, make things closer or farther away …

“And Vista!” I concluded.

Using her power, I crunched space; not for me, but for L33t. Suddenly, he found himself at the far end of the row, past even where Über had gotten to. His startled yell drifted back to me, but I didn't care.

Right, how do I do this?

<><>​

Aegis landed on the pavement next to where the three dark-clad figures had vanished into the wall; seconds before he arrived, Vista twisted space, and got there ahead of him.

“Don't touch it,” he warned her, as she leaned close to examine the door-like frame attached to the wall.

“Wasn't going to,” she replied absently. “Tinker work for sure. I'm guessing either a teleportal through the wall, or something that makes the wall permeable.” She frowned. “Probably the latter, given that we're not looking directly into the building.”

Aegis nodded, impressed. As young as she was, she had a head on her shoulders, and she'd run into enough cape situations that she knew what she was doing. He pulled out his phone and hit speed-dial for the Protectorate floating base. Whoever was on monitor duty there would pick up.

Seconds later, he got an answer. “Miss Militia here. What's up, Aegis?”

Aegis had had a crush on the Protectorate hero when he first joined the Wards – and, truth be told, for a few years before that – but he'd since grown out of it. However, he had never lost the admiration and respect that he held for her.

“Miss Militia, ma'am. We have an ongoing break and enter at the North Side Storage Facility. Vista and I are on site; we've located a Tinkertech item they used to gain entry. Some sort of gate device. We saw three enter, all dressed in dark gear with no visible costumes, nothing that would point to ID. No indication of powers, except for the Tinkertech item, of course.” As he spoke, he pressed the button to put it on speaker, for Vista's benefit, then held up his phone so Miss Militia could see the device.

“Hm.” Miss Militia paused for a moment. “I'm not reading an alarm from the premises. No-one's patrolling near you. Closest black and white is a good fifteen minutes away. Armsmaster's dealing with an Empire Eighty-Eight matter. Can you hold, ambush them on the way out? We'll get reinforcements to you, as soon as possible.”

“I could,” he agreed. “And they might take more than fifteen minutes. Or they might take five. And when they come out, they're going to be carrying some very, very expensive stuff, you can bet on it. Which is guaranteed to be broken in any sort of ongoing fight.”

Vista spoke up. “If we pulled this device off the wall, it will probably deprive them of an escape route.” She paused. “Or no, better not.”

Aegis glanced at her. “Not that I was going to advocate it, but what are your reasons?”

“If one of them's a Tinker,” she pointed out, “they're in Tinker heaven right now. Given enough time, they could probably build a giant robot to smash down the wall.”

“All good points,” Miss Militia agreed. "What I want you to do is -"

<><>​

Drawing my taser pistol, I switched my focus to Aegis's power, and took up station directly above the section of wall where the heroes were going to come in. I didn't like the idea of ambushing them, or even attacking them at all, but the way I saw it, I didn't have much in the way of choice. In fact, the way I saw it, they'd taken away my choices when they let Sophia bully me, then didn't kick her out the minute they found out about her.

I'd had to make my own way in the world, and if joining forces with Über and L33t wasn't the best choice in the world, there were many worse ones. And nearly all the ones that involved remaining on the side of law and order belonged in the latter category. Besides, I ...

I frowned. They haven't come in yet. Why haven't they come in yet?

The tactical skills that I had acquired via Über's borrowed power kicked in. They hadn't come in because they either feared an ambush, or they were working out a plan of attack. They were too close to the door to be worried about me attacking them, so they were probably coordinating with their control, calling in reinforcements.

If we spent the half-hour here that I had planned, even if Aegis and Vista never came in, the place would be surrounded.

I couldn't wait for them to come in, to break the deadlock. I had to deal with them now.

Between my goggles and my power, I had a reasonable idea of where they were standing in relation to the 'doorway'. Lowering myself to the level of the doorway, I poked the taser pistol through until I figured the business end was out the other side, then I fired.

<><>​

Vista saw the squarish object poke out from the door frame, and reacted immediately. “Watch out!” she yelled, giving Aegis a shove, and leaping backward herself. Instinctively, she squeezed space behind her, covering ten yards in a moment.

The crackling path of electricity intercepted Aegis; more specifically, it grounded in his phone. He was thrown backward, landing heavily, but was up in a moment. The phone was fried, dark, useless. His right arm hung uselessly, twitching, then started to move again, clumsily, as he retasked muscle fibres to pass nerve impulses along.

The weapon, whatever it was, had disappeared, but neither Aegis nor Vista was taking any chances. They flattened themselves to the wall on either side of the entrance.

“They know we're here.” That was Vista.

“Yeah.” Aegis eyed the framework. “And if we hang about out here, they can pot-shot at us all night. That would have put you down.” He eyed the phone, still clutched in his hand. “Dammit. I liked that phone.”

“I've got mine -” Vista began, reaching to her belt.

Aegis shook his head. “Don't bother.” He pointed at the device, indicated his ears. They could be listening. “We're leaving. It's too dangerous. Let someone else deal with this.” She stared at him oddly; he shook his head violently.

Vista frowned slightly. “Triumph -”

“ - isn't here. We are. I'm making the decision.”

He completed the statement in simple sign language. Me – go in – fly – cover you.

She nodded, seriously, gave him a thumbs up. He took to the air, flew away a little way, then swooped directly at the portal, moving at speed. Vista saw him vanish into it, the bricks seemingly deforming to let him pass through unimpeded.

Thought so, she told herself, preparing to enter as well.

<><>​

There was a split-second of disorientation, then Aegis was through the wall, swooping into the interior of the warehouse itself. There was a twenty foot high set of shelves ahead; he changed direction sharply, turning and gaining altitude, then looking back to see if he could spot the ambusher. It had only been a matter of seconds since they'd been shot at; he should be next to where the portal was, or close by.

There was no-one in sight, not near the portal, not in either direction along the aisle between the wall and the shelves. Whoever it was had gotten out of sight really, really fast. Aegis frowned in puzzlement.

Vista came through next, looking around for potential danger. She also looked up, which impressed Aegis; so few people thought to look in that direction, even with flyers so commonplace.

“Can't see anyone!” he called to her. “Keep your eyes open -”

“Look out!” she yelled, pointing.

His path had just brought him up level with the top of the shelving; a dark figure lying there raised a stubby weapon of some sort -

<><>​

As soon as I had fired, I resisted the impulse to step through and hit them again. Against numerically superior foes, it was smarter to hit and run, keep them off balance. So instead, I borrowed Vista's power and stepped up on top of the two-storey shelves. Lying down, I waited for them to enter. It was the only sound tactical option they had left.

Aegis was a flyer; he would try to use the vertical space to his advantage. So all I had to do was wait for him to get up to my level. I cheated just a little; he was a bit outside the optimum range of my pistol, so I used Vista's power to reduce the range until it was about right. Then I fired.

This time it was a direct hit; the electrical arc caught him right in the chest. He convulsed and fell, either unconscious or stunned, I wasn't sure. Either way, he was out of the fight for the next few seconds. I wasn't worried about killing him; I had a really good read on his powerset, and a simple fall from twenty feet wouldn't even begin to be fatal. It might, however, serve to keep him down for a few more seconds, which was all to the good.

Which was a good thing, because I was going to need all my attention dealing with Vista.

<><>​

“Aegis!” screamed Vista; she exerted her power to widen the space between her and the shelves, so that if he tried to shoot her, he would have a harder time of it. At the same time, she expanded the shelves themselves, vertically. Normally, she wouldn't be able to do this sort of thing; in such warehouses, bugs abounded, and she could not manipulate space when a living thing was in it. But this warehouse was kept to 'clean room' standards, due to the multiplicity of extremely delicate electronic components that were stored here, and so insects were at a minimum.

So she drove the shelving up toward the ceiling; the idea was to pin the attacker between one and the other. Not fatally, just to hold him long enough to make sure that Aegis was okay.

Shelf met ceiling, and she held it there. Good. She hurried to Aegis' side, while pulling her phone out.

<><>​

I hadn't known what Vista was planning, but nor had I intended to stay on top of the shelves anyway. Flicking my focus from Vista to Aegis, I rolled off the far side of the shelves, even as they started moving upward at speed. As the power set engaged, I took flight and rocketed down the aisle.

As I rounded the end, I landed and shed my backpack and duffel bag. Peering cautiously around the shelving, I could see her standing over Aegis, looking around. I didn't dare crunch space between us, as she would probably pick it up, so I concentrated on Aegis' powers. After a few moments of experimentation, I figured out how to boost his hearing, by turning the skin on my hand to an analogue of an eardrum. Pulling off my glove and putting my hand out past the shelving, I caught her words.

“ - is down, a hit from an electrical discharge weapon. Not badly hurt, but he's going to be out of it for a little bit. One attacker, possibly flyer or teleporter. Have not seen the other two yet.”

There was an answer, but I couldn't hear it clearly.

“Understood. I've got the attacker pinned – or at least, I think I do – between the shelves and the ceiling. I'm not going to check – he's still got a ranged weapon. I'm going to get Aegis outside, to safety, then I'll guard the exit until he comes to.”

I'm sorry, but I can't let you do that.

I added vision to my fingertips and waited till she glanced away from me, then I switched to her powerset and crunched space between me and her. Then I ducked around the end of the shelving and ran straight at her.

When she turned back around, I was right there; I had let the space behind me relax to its normal shape, so for all she knew, I'd teleported into place. She went to jump back, to expand space between us, but it was too late; I had hold of her wrist.

She was fit, and she'd had training, but I was taller, stronger and – as skinny as I was – heavier. Also, I had longer arms, which meant more leverage. So I used the skills which I'd been learning with Über's power, locked her down, and then applied pressure to her carotid artery.

I had to admit, she was a fighter; she kicked and lunged and did everything in her power to throw me off balance or slam me into the wall. We did actually hit the wall a few times, despite being about ten feet away from it. But I was using Aegis' powers, to keep us in the same place, and to weather any incidental impacts, and so I lasted longer than she did.

I checked her pulse – strong and regular – and laid her down in the recovery position. “Right,” I murmured, pulling on my glove, then turned to check on Aegis.

Who was just then getting up.

Oh shit.

<><>​

Even as he came off the ground and literally flew at me – Christ, he's fast! - I drew my taser pistol and shot him. Centre mass, direct hit.

Only it did absolutely nothing.

I realised why an instant later; he'd just been shot by that same weapon. His body had adapted to get over the attack, and the adaptation was still in effect.

And then he hit me, and the pistol went flying. So did I. The only thing that kept me conscious was the fact that I had his powers, and so was just as durable as he was.

We squared off in midair; I decided to let him see that I could fly, because beating him would be extremely awkward, otherwise.

“She's okay,” I hastened to say, straight up. I was careful to deepen my voice. “Just unconscious. Sleeper hold.”

“Good,” he growled. “I'll only use one on you, then.”

I shook my head. “I can't let you do that.”

He showed his teeth; they were very white against his darker skin. He looked rather handsome, I thought. “I'm not actually giving you the choice.”

We came together in what would have been a bone-crunching impact if, at the last moment, I had not changed it into a mid-air judo throw. Aegis came out of it pinwheeling, and slammed into the wall; that was the bone-crunching impact.

He recovered quickly, and came at me again, albeit a little more cautiously. His grin, undaunted, shone in the dimness. “Just full of tricks, aren't you?”

I grinned back, but my balaclava was in the way. “Just try me.”

He kicked at me, which made a certain amount of sense; when you're flying, you don't need to keep your balance, and a leg is longer and has more leverage than an arm. But it's also clumsier, and once a kick is started, it's harder to stop. So I trapped his ankle, spun him around my head, and slammed him into the concrete floor.

He got up again; the impact would have severely injured an ordinary man, and I could see where bones were broken, but his grin was still there. All the same, I felt sick at what I was doing to him.

“Look, just stay down. We don't need to keep doing this.”

He shook his head. “I can't do that.”

I sighed. “I know. I had to try. I'm sorry.”

This time, he was even more cautious; we circled around each other for a moment, before he tried for a grapple; if he could get a good grip on me, his superior strength would probably win out against my speed.

But I was much better trained than he was, and I had a handle on all the same tricks that he used with his powers, plus a few more.

I let him grab my arm, and start to apply a lock. This doesn't work so well in the air, because the opponent has another direction he can move. But he would have applied it anyway, if I hadn't used his power to let my shoulder dislocate, then spun around to a position that he did not expect. Then I kneed him in the groin, very hard indeed.

His eyes crossed, and he let out a strangled moan. While he was thus occupied – I don't care how you can adapt your body, a strike to that particular point has to hurt – I pulled my arm free, clicked it back into place, then struck hard and fast. All the nerve clusters, one after the other. Overwhelming his body, his nervous system, with an influx of pain.

He went down.

Well, I had said sorry.

<><>​

While he was still adapting to that – and I had no doubt but that he would – I pulled all the zip-ties off of his belt, and tied him up with them, taking time to fasten him to the shelving. He would work his way out of multiple zip-ties, eventually, but not in the time frame I was worried about. And then I ran like hell.

“Player one, player two, are you there?” I called over the radio link. “This is player three.”

“Player three, this is player one. What is your status?” That was Über.

If I had been captured by the heroes, forced to talk on the radio, I had one of several duress codes I could use. Instead, I gave them the all-clear code. “Halo three. Repeat, Halo three. Time window is limited. Let's do our shopping and get out, over.”

“Player three, this is player two. Where are the heroes?”

“Player two, the heroes have been neutralised. Now stop talking and start grabbing.” I got back to where I had left my bags, and scooped them up. Then I headed to where the things I needed were being stored.

<><>​

Unfortunately, some of them were being stored in a time-locked vault. This was not controlled by the main security system; its timer was separate and hard-wired. It would not, could not, be opened until nine the next morning.

Unless, of course, someone had a power like Vista's.

Carefully, inch by inch, I reduced the size of the vault door, and increased the size of the doorway, until one no longer fit in the other. I could have done it faster, but I didn't want to jam anything, or cause tell-tale damage. Once the door was open, I went in there and stripped the shelves of what I needed. Then I had to put the door back the way it was.

“Why are you doing that?” demanded L33t; he, too, had gotten what he wanted from the vault. “Let's go!”

“I don't want them figuring out how I did it,” I murmured, concentrating. “Hax has gotta stay as hard to figure out as possible, for as long as possible.”

We were pushing close to what I considered a safe time frame by the time I finished; I'd had Über grab what else I wanted from the shelves in the meantime. And then we headed for the way out.

My taser pistol was half under a shelf, I picked it up and shoved it back in the holster.

My goggles and my power both noted that there were no capes within my range, but that meant nothing. The place could be swarming with PRT and regular police.

Only one way to find out.

The tip of my index finger, poked out through the wall, told me a worrying story.

“PRT and cops,” I muttered. “Capes too, but hanging back.”

“Fuck,” whined L33t. “This is your fucking fault.”

“Cool it,” I told him. “We can get out of this yet.”

“Yeah? How?”

I told him. They both stared at me in disbelief.

“You're shitting us,” declared Über.

In the end, they agreed to it, but we were cutting it way too fine. Aegis was awake, and straining at his bonds, and Vista was starting to stir as well.

<><>​

The PRT troops had just finished deploying and were ready to move in when the single dark-clad form streaked out through the portal frame. The figure – skinny, but clad in all-enveloping clothing – carried a single duffel bag over its shoulder. Before anyone could do more than shout and point, it was past them and gone. Velocity tried to give chase, but he lost the figure against the night sky almost immediately.

That left two perpetrators still in the building. The PRT moved in, to find Aegis and Vista; the latter was in the process of freeing the former. Master/Stranger protocols were employed, and the two Wards were determined to be who they said they were.

But despite an almost microscopic search of the rest of the building, no trace of the other two thieves was ever found.

One hour later, the portal frame ran out of power and ceased to work.

<><>​

The PRT were still milling around near the North Side storage facility when I landed a block away. I had to; my range was tenuous at best, and I was losing my link to Aegis. I unzipped the duffel bag, and first Über and then L33t climbed out. They brought their own duffels with them; I reached into the Vista-enlarged space and pulled my backpack out as well.

“That was seriously weird,” declared Über. “Can Vista do that all the time?”

I nodded. “It wears off after a while, though.”

L33t seemed to be staring at me. I glanced at him. “What?”

He took a deep breath. “I still think you're way too pushy, but that was awesome. You took on two different Wards and kicked their asses, all by yourself.” He hefted his duffel. “And with these components … the team of Über and L33t are gonna rock.”

Über gestured to me. “Über and L33t and Hax, bro.”

After a long moment, L33t nodded. “Über and L33t and Hax. Yeah. You did good, kid. Welcome to the team.”

Under my mask, I grinned. “It's good to be here.”

I had passed my baptism of fire; they had accepted me.

Now, all I had to do was get home before the PRT decided to pay me a visit.


End of Part Nine

Part Ten

 

Trump Card

Part Ten


Director Piggot lifted the phone. "Piggot."

"Ma'am, this is Major Donnelly, Rapid Reaction Squad. We attended the location and found both Vista and Aegis on site. Both had been subdued and secured. Only one perpetrator escaped while we were there."

"Escaped?" she snapped. "How?"

"Uh, he was flying, ma'am," the major reported. "He was wearing dark clothes and a black balaclava; no identifying costume, goggles over his eyes. Velocity tried to follow, but lost him in the dark."

Piggot gritted her teeth. "What do Aegis and Vista have to say for themselves? They were advised to hold position and ambush the perpetrators on the way out."

"Yes, ma'am," agreed the major, "but they were attacked from within the building while waiting outside. They chose to enter and engage the perpetrators over allowing themselves to be made into targets."

Piggot could not fault that logic. "How many perpetrators were involved in subduing them?"

"Vista thinks there were two of them, but Aegis thinks that it was only one," he replied. "There was one that could fly, and had a ranged electrical weapon, and another that was some sort of Mover. They were both fairly strong, and trained in taking people down non-lethally. Vista was taken down with a sleeper hold, and Aegis was subdued using nerve strikes."

The Director frowned. "I thought he was immune to that sort of thing."

"According to him, these nerve strikes would have crippled or killed an ordinary person."

"So the perpetrator was trying to kill him."

"In my opinion, ma'am, he knew exactly how much punishment Aegis could take, and took him down as non-lethally as he could."

"Thank you for your opinion, Major," replied Director Piggot dryly. "So how much property damage was done?"

"Surprisingly little, ma'am. Vastly less than the potential cost of whatever was stolen."

"Do we know what that was, yet?"

"No, ma'am. The keyholders are still on their way here."

"I see. Let me know as soon as they arrive, or if there are any other developments in the case."

"Will do, ma'am."

Emily Piggot hung up the phone, and sat back in her chair, thinking hard.

A cape without a costume ... knew exactly how hard to hit Aegis ... could fly and exhibit Mover capabilities, as well as enough strength to take down Aegis ... I wonder ...

She picked up the phone again.

<><>​

The phone in Armsmaster's helmet rang. He dropped the last Empire Eighty-Eight thug and racked his halberd. His eye found the appropriate drop-down menu.

"You've reached Armsmaster."

"This is the Director. I'm dispatching a detail of troops to a particular location; specifically, the house owned by Daniel Hebert. I'm sending you the address now. I want you to meet them there."

"Certainly, Director. What am I looking for, once I'm there?"

"His daughter."

"I'm ... not sure I understand."

"I'll explain once you're on the way."

<><>​

Über and L33t dropped me off a block away from my house; I did not want them knowing where I lived. I left the duffel and the backpack in the back seat; I trusted that they wouldn't backstab me this early in the game.

And if they did, they'd no longer have the backup of Hax.

Once I was out of the car, I started running. Among the physical-conditioning skills I'd acquired using Über's power was long-distance running. I'd practised running every day; I was pretty good at it, even when I didn't have the power to fall back on.

I was halfway there, and just beginning to think I might make it, when the inevitable happened; I heard a deep-throated engine noise, and then a motorcycle swept out of a side street, and turned on to the road I was running down.

As it got within twenty yards of me, my goggles lit off with a red dot in the lower edge of the HUD; there was a cape behind me. I glanced around behind me to confirm it, which may have been a mistake, for a moment later, all the lights in creation started glaring off of that bike.

<><>​

Go to the Hebert house. Surround it; detain Taylor Hebert if she tries to enter or leave. If you find her doing anything whatsoever suspicious, bring her in for questioning.

At first, Armsmaster had found those orders to be mildly dubious; how did Director Piggot even connect the North Side robbery to a freshly-triggered cape? But then, as the known details of the Hebert girl's powerset were uploaded to his helmet, he saw her logic. If the girl had acquired Tinker tech from somewhere, or even linked up with a criminal Tinker, then it would all fall into place.

And there weren't all that many criminal Tinkers in Brockton Bay. He dismissed Squealer from the running almost immediately; her focus was totally different to the tech which had been exhibited during the robbery.

Which left ... L33t?

Such was his disdain for the less-respected half of the team of Über and L33t, that he nearly dismissed him as well. Except that, despite his many failures - some of them hilariously spectacular - the man was still a Tinker, and he could conceivably have created the portal doorway, and the wireless taser that had been used on Aegis.

Except, on the other hand, L33t's reputation was all about his devices failing dramatically, even explosively. And these devices ... had not.

Armsmaster considered himself a methodical man, a logical one, both of which were true. He also believed that he had a deep sense of humour, which was not. He didn't even crack a smile at the ludicrous thought of Über and L33t planning and pulling off a heist like that, and getting clean away.

The logical part of his mind, while it accepted Piggot's viewpoint on how it could have been someone with the Hebert girl's Trump capabilities allied with the less-than-stellar duo, objected on simpler grounds. Namely, that no theme had been adhered to, no video game had been referenced, and most importantly, the robbery had not been recorded and broadcast on Über and L33t's video blog.

So, on the whole, Armsmaster was reasonably willing to expect that the whole thing was a wild-goose chase, a product of Director Piggot's dislike of capes in general, and capes not in the Protectorate in particular.

Until he cruised around the corner, and caught the black-clad figure in his headlight beam, running down the middle of the road. The figure - he could not tell if it was male or female, just that it might be skinny - glanced over its shoulder. He caught a glimpse of a full-face black mask, with goggles.

The perp or perps who took down Aegis and Vista had been wearing full black outfits, with goggles.

With a flick of the thumb, he turned the headlight to high-beam; at the same time, he triggered the forward-mounted spotlights. He didn't want to lose Hebert - if it was indeed her - in the darkness.

At the same time, he gunned the throttle.

<><>​

I heard the engine note increase, and I knew I was within seconds of being run down and captured by Armsmaster, within minutes of safety. The irony was sickening.

Almost by instinct, as he came within ten yards, I put the light-spot on him; immediately, I began getting the data feed from his powers. It was all about building things more efficiently, more streamlined. I knew how machinery worked, on an almost visceral level, and how to make it work better.

A part of me wanted to stop, to give up, to let it all be over. The Protectorate was everywhere; I couldn't beat them.

Another part of me told the first part to stop snivelling, pull up its socks, to reach down and find a pair. Then I hunched my shoulders, turned a sharp right, and sprinted.

I had been running in near-darkness for a few moments before Armsmaster had come out of the side street; apart from that one glance over my shoulder, my night vision was pretty good.

He wasn't ready for my turn and sudden acceleration; I wasn't up to Olympic standard, but I was light and fast, and I could pile on the pace for a short time. And a short time was all I needed.

He tried to cut the corner, but he'd already begun to accelerate, and from the sound of the engine and the heft of the bike, I was fairly sure I could calculate its turning radius. So I cut inside him, and heard the engine bellow past, just a couple of yards behind me. His brakes were already squealing, but I knew his stopping distance to a foot or so. Even as he threw himself from the bike, I was hurdling the first hedge, with track and field skills that I had not possessed a month ago.

He tried to follow, but by the time he got past the first hedge, I had already vaulted over the back fence and was halfway across the next yard.

I knew what his next move would be; to get back on his bike, and beat me to my house. Which he probably would. But I wasn't going to lie down and die, quite yet.

Calling on my brand-new parkour skills, I jumped from a swing-set to a fence, to the roof of a house. Sprinted up the gable-end, trying not to loosen the ceramic tiles from under my feet. Along the roof ridge. And nearly came to a screeching halt, because the house roof I 'd been going to jump to was just too far away.

But then I saw something else, and smiled. Instead of slowing down, I accelerated. Down the slope of the roof, gaining traction from the tiles. Leaped, as far as I could.

Landed, already crouched, not on the house roof, which I still would not have reached, but on the trampoline beside it. The springs creaked as the mat stretched downward; I could have sworn that one of my feet touched ground for an instant. And then they rebounded, flinging me upward and forward; I kicked off at the same instant, adding that to my final impetus.

I hit the grass in the next yard over, rolled, and came to my feet running. Vaulted the fence as though it wasn't even there. Sprinted around the side of the house. All I had to do was get out of this yard, cross the side-street, and I'd be in my own back yard, literally.

And then I skidded to a halt. Shining across the driveway, which I had just been about to bolt down, was a particularly bright beam of light. Armsmaster was here already; he was sitting on the bike, ready to catch me if I darted out in front of him.

Or was he?

My goggles said he wasn't; my power said the same thing. He was standing up at the corner, waiting for me to do something tricky, like try to dart past behind the bike.

Crap.

I was just considering trying to ambush him with my taser pistol, in the hope that he hadn't proofed his armour against things like that, when I heard the truck coming. I knew for a fact that this was not a good thing.

Or is it?

Time was running out for me; I whirled and ran, vaulted another fence – this parkour stuff was cool – and sprinted out past a house, diving and rolling to end up behind an ornamental bush, not twenty yards from Armsmaster. But right alongside the street that the truck was coming along.

I had to time this just right. I waited until the truck was almost level, till the beams of the headlights had passed me by. Then I came up from behind the bush like a sprinter from the starting block. The truck had nearly passed me by -

I leaped, and grabbed the ropes holding the tarp down. Swung my legs up, so I didn't get hit by the back wheel. Found purchase with the toes of my dark-coloured sandshoes. Hung on for dear life.

And then the truck rumbled to a stop, right next to Armsmaster. Fortunately, he was facing the other way, obviously still watching for any attempt from me to break across the side-street.

I couldn't overhear what was said, and I couldn't see their faces to lip-read, but it was probably something along the lines of “I'll watch this side, you form a perimeter.” It's what I would have done.

The truck jerked into motion, nearly causing me to lose my grip, then moved on, across the top of the T-junction formed by the side-street. I literally passed within two yards of Armsmaster, who had fortunately turned to focus all his attention on the side-street.

Even as the truck was slowing to a halt outside my house, I kicked free, landed, rolled, and
sprinted up the driveway alongside the house.

Behind me, I heard boots hitting the ground. "Hey!" someone yelled. "I saw something! In the yard!"

Fuck.

"Flashlights!" someone else shouted. "Fan out! Surround the house! Cover the entrances!"

I saw powerful flashlights come on, splashing on the ground as the men ran around the house. I crouched in the darkness in front of Dad's car, huddling half under the bumper, as they ran past me on either side, on their way to the back of the house.

My goggles and my power showed me that Armsmaster was on the move, heading over toward the house, even as I heard a heavy banging on the front door.

Oh shit. They're going to check my room. Where I'm not.

I had seconds, at most. Men would be coming back around to my side of the house. Establishing a perimeter. One that, without a nearby cape, I would have a great deal of trouble circumventing. An infinite amount of trouble, if I was found to not be in my room.

There were already men in the back yard; I couldn't go in through the back door.

I heard the front door open; Dad's voice raised in protest, others overriding him. Going into the house.

Moving as stealthily as I could, I climbed on top of the car. My window was open just a little; I liked the night breezes. In the near-dark, I studied the wall.

Before I had gotten my powers, I would have considered it an impassable obstacle. But since meeting Über ... not so much.

Gathering myself, I jumped at the wall. My feet found purchase, just for an instant, as did my fingertips, and I flung myself upward. One hand slapped over the windowsill. I scrabbled, heard a shout from the back yard. "Hey, I think I heard something!"

"Who's around that side?"

"I thought you were!"

Shit shit shit fuck.

Flashlights were literally shining on the ground directly below me.

My free hand slithered inside, undid the latch, opened the window wide. With a convulsive heave, I launched myself up and through the window. On to my bed.

I reached out, pulled the window almost shut. A flashlight beam splashed through the window, lit up my ceiling, instants later.

"Hey, did something just move up there?"

"I dunno, did it?"

"Must have been a bat or something." The flashlight moved away.

Whew.

But there were voices coming up the stairs. My father, protesting. Other voices, demanding. They were literally seconds away.

I tore off the balaclava and goggles, peeled off the gloves. Yanked back the covers. Dived into bed as the voices stopped outside my room. "Let me go!" called Dad's voice. "Taylor's my daughter -"

The gloves and goggles lay atop the covers. Hastily, I shoved them out of sight.

The black sweater I was wearing would give me away; I pulled it off over my head, threw it across the room at my laundry hamper, even as the door began to open. Lay back, covers partially pulled over me. Closed my eyes.

The light came on as they crowded into my room. Three PRT men, each aiming a rifle at me. I blinked blearily, focused as well as I could – then pulled the covers up to my chin, and screamed.

My voice isn't the loudest, but I'm told I can hit a fairly piercing volume. The PRT men reflexively stepped back a pace.

I took a deep breath, and screamed again. Then I called out. “DAD! DAD! HELP!”

From outside the door, I heard him call out. “I'm here, Taylor! Let me go, you bastards!”

Armsmaster pushed his way into the room. He waved his arm downward, and the guns were lowered.

Fumbling on the nightstand, I found my glasses and put them on. Then I took a second look around the room. "What - what's going on?" I demanded, my voice full of fright that didn't have to be wholly faked.

Armsmaster stepped forward. "Miss Hebert, a crime was committed tonight that could have been carried out with your particular powerset. I merely want to ask you a yes-or-no -"

"No!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.

He rocked back a little at the force of my denial.

“Is that a no, you didn't do it, or -”

“No! I'm not going to answer any questions! Get out of my bedroom, you perverts! I'm in my underwear, here! Get out!”

The PRT men started to move backward, toward the door. Armsmaster stood his ground. “This is a serious matter -”

“And so is this!” I yelled. “I'm fifteen! I'm a minor! You shouldn't even be in here! Do you even have a warrant to be in here?”

One of the PRT men stepped forward. “We're acting on reasonable suspicion -” he began, but I cut him off. Dealing With Guys 101 – thanks, Über.

“Reasonable suspicion my ass! You had some sort of crime happen, and just because it might possibly have been down to the one new cape in the city who's got a legitimate complaint against you, and you really want leverage over me, you decided to come in here all heavy-handed and see if you could catch me not being here! Well, I am here, so fuck the hell off out of my fucking bedroom!”

I had to inhale deeply after that speech, but I kept the glare up. Armsmaster might have been glaring back at me; I couldn't tell. His mouth was not the mouth of a happy man.

“Dad!” I called out.

“Taylor?” he replied.

“Go call the cops! We have home invaders!”

One of the PRT men stepped forward. “We're the PRT -”

“No!” I shouted at him. “You're strange men in the bedroom of a minor, who's in fear of her life! You're home invaders! Get out!”

Armsmaster shook his head. “You're not in fear of your life.”

I glared at him. “Those aren't candy canes they're waving at me, mister. Hyperbole. It's a thing. Now, do you have a warrant?”

He sighed. “Apparently not.”

“Have you caught me performing an illegal act?”

His lips thinned. “No.”

“Then – HEY!” I yelled at one of the PRT men, who was reaching for my wardrobe door. “No search warrant means you're breaking the law! Get out of there!”

Armsmaster turned to him. “You heard her. Out of the room. Now.”

It said something for his air of authority that they trooped out. He turned back to me, hands empty. “No guns. Now, can you answer my questions?”

I shook my head stubbornly. “Have you booted Shadow Stalker yet?”

If his lips got any thinner, they would disappear altogether. “No.”

“Then fuck off. I'm going back to sleep.” I rolled over – incidentally, on to the goggles, which dug painfully into my ribs – and pulled the covers up to just below my eyes.

“Miss Hebert, have you allied yourself with Über and L33t?”

I ignored him.

“Miss Hebert, did you rob the North Side Storage Facility tonight?”

I put on a very obvious fake snore.

He sighed. “Miss Hebert. Understand this. I believe you did all of that. It's only a matter of time before I get proof. If you give yourself up before then -”

My arm snaked out from under the covers, and I gave him the finger.

He waited for a few more moments, then he turned and left the room. The light clicked off, then the door closed behind him.

I pulled my glasses off, eased the goggles over my eyes, and switched them on. The spot of light that indicated Armsmaster's location was moving away. Down the stairs. Across the living room. Out the door.

On cue, I heard the front door closing.

Armsmaster got on his bike, and then moved away, faster and faster, until he was out of the range of both my goggles and my power. I heard the truck start up, and follow him.

I let out a long breath that I hadn't even known I was holding.

<><>​

A few moments later, Dad tapped on the door to my room. I'd taken the time to divest myself of the rest of my infiltration gear, and to put on a bathrobe.

“Come in,” I called.

He switched on the light as he entered. I was sitting on the bed. I looked up at him.

“Taylor,” he began, worriedly. “I -”

I stood up and hugged him; he hugged me back.

When we disengaged, he stepped back, putting his hands on my shoulders, and looked me in the face. “What was that about, Taylor?”

I shook my head. “Better you don't know, Dad.”

He frowned. “Are you doing something illegal? Because I -”

I took a deep breath. “I'm doing what I gotta do.”

He didn't seem to know what to say about that. “I … in the morning, I'm gonna call in every favour I have. We'll splash this across the media. PRT harassment ...”

I held up my hand. “No, Dad.”

He pressed his lips together. “Why?”

“Because people will wonder, and they'll come to the right conclusion. This, so soon after the Winslow thing? I want people to forget. I don't want to be known as a cape.”

He shook his head. “But they just violated a whole lot of your civil rights -”

I held up my hand; he stopped. “No. It's called 'hot pursuit'. They're allowed to ignore private property and other laws, if they can lay hands on the person after continuous pursuit.”

He blinked. “And … were they pursuing you?”

I sighed. “If I don't tell you, you don't know, and you're not an accessory. But suppose that someone was hypothetically coming to this house, and Armsmaster hypothetically saw them, and gave chase, and that person hypothetically resembled someone who was in a robbery earlier tonight, who was hypothetically believed to be someone not entirely unlike me.”

He stared at me, not saying a word.

“In that case, yes,” I told him. “If they had come in here and there had been clear evidence that the person they were chasing was indeed me, then they would have been within their rights to arrest me. But there wasn't, so they couldn't.”

“Taylor,” he began quietly. “I … I don't know about all that. But … if you were a supervillain, I just need you to understand … I'm not going to ask difficult questions … but I wouldn't accept stolen money, either.”

I had to laugh, as I hugged him. “Oh, Dad,” I told him truthfully. “I'm not stealing money.”


End of Part Ten

PHO Interlude

 

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PHO Interlude

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♦Topic: New Villain Team in Town?
In: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► Cape Doings ► Villains

Lurker (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)
Posted on January 8, 2011:

So yeah, my sources tell me that there's a new bunch of criminal capes in town. Three of them, an Alexandria package, a Tinker and maybe a teleporter. Knocked over the North Side Storage Facility last night. Gave a couple of Wards a bit of a beatdown. Got clean away, even after the PRT were on site.

(Showing Page 1 of 3)

Bagrat (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)
Replied on January 8, 2011:
Whoa, this is the first I've heard of that. A new team? When did that happen? And a new Alexandria package?

Lurker (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)
Replied on January 8, 2011:
Well, like I said, last night. We know at least one of them was an Alexandria package, because they took on Aegis and beat the snot out of him.

GloryGirl (Verified Cape) (Cape Daughter) (New Wave)
Replied on January 8, 2011:
Okay, just saying? Wasn't me.
But I did hear something about that. Who was the other Ward on site?

Lurker (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)
Replied on January 8, 2011:
My sources say Vista. Don't worry, she's fine. Our mystery cape(s) just put a sleeper hold on her till she passed out.

ArcticWolf (Veteran Member) (Power Guru)
Replied on January 8, 2011:
Okay, so that's the Alexandria package. But how do they know a Tinker and a Mover/teleporter were involved?

Lurker (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)
Replied on January 8, 2011:
Tinker because they used a Tinker tech device to get in, and apparently one of them ambushed Aegis with some sort of electrical discharge weapon, and teleporter because only one of them was seen leaving the scene - the A-package.

ArcticWolf (Veteran Member) (Power Guru)
Replied on January 8, 2011:
Could the other one have been a Stranger with invisibility or something? While the Alexandria package was drawing everyone's attention, just walk out?

Lurker (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)
Replied on January 8, 2011:
Actually, that's a good point. Okay, so member three could be a Mover or a Stranger.

Bagrat (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)
Replied on January 8, 2011:
Okay, so any other details? Costume appearance? Code names?

Lurker (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)
Replied on January 8, 2011:
Not really costumes, as far as I know. Dark clothing, head to toe. Balaclavas with goggles. One of them might have spoken with Aegis, but he's not talking about it.
​

End of Page. 1, 2, 3

(Showing Page 2 of 3)

XxVoid_CowboyxX
Replied on January 8, 2011:
So, basically, ninjas.

GloryGirl (Verified Cape) (Cape Daughter) (New Wave)
Replied on January 8, 2011:
<snerk> Ninjas. Really?

Hodor
Replied on January 8, 2011:
Hey, why not? We've already got a dragon in Brockton Bay.

ArcticWolf (Veteran Member) (Power Guru)
Replied on January 8, 2011:
Hmm ... well, I can't recall offhand that combo in any other trios in the region. And a team that's that professional should be well established by now.
Looks like we've got a new team of talented amateurs, folks.

ICanHazKitty (Cape Groupie)
Replied on January 8, 2011:
So, come on, group name. We need one. Otherwise, we'll be talking about "those three capes with the Alexandria package, the Tinker and the Mover/Stranger".

XxVoid_CowboyxX
Replied on January 8, 2011:
I vote "Ninja Squad".

GloryGirl (Verified Cape) (Cape Daughter) (New Wave)
Replied on January 8, 2011:
>facepalm<

Hodor
Replied on January 8, 2011:
How about "Black Masks" until they give a name to the news?

Bagrat (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)
Replied on January 8, 2011:
You do realise that 'black mask' used to be a term for any criminal cape, right?

Hodor
Replied on January 8, 2011:
So? It fits.
​

End of Page. 1, 2, 3

(Showing Page 3 of 3)

Lurker (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)
Replied on January 8, 2011:
And it's better than "Ninja Squad".

XxVoid_CowboyxX
Replied on January 8, 2011:
Hey, what's wrong with Ninja Squad?

ArcticWolf (Veteran Member) (Power Guru)
Replied on January 8, 2011:
We're not calling them Ninja Squad.

Bagrat (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)
Replied on January 8, 2011:
So, not to change the subject, but have they released information about how much the Black Masks got away with?

XxVoid_CowboyxX
Replied on January 8, 2011:
Ninja Squad.

Lurker (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)
Replied on January 8, 2011:
Not a specific figure, but the number is large. We're talking maybe seven digits here. The Black Masks apparently got into a secure vault, inside the premises, without tripping an alarm or even using the combination. Some really specialised components. So yeah, their Tinker is in hog heaven right now.

XxVoid_CowboyxX
Replied on January 8, 2011:
Ninja Squad!

Bagrat (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)
Replied on January 8, 2011:
So to figure out who the Black Masks really are, or who they're working for, all we have to do is sit back and wait for the next big Tinker tech device to be unleashed on Brockton Bay.
Joy.
I might go visit my aunt. In Fort Lauderdale.

Hodor
Replied on January 8, 2011:
I, for one, welcome our new Tinker overlords.

Lurker (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)
Replied on January 8, 2011:
Hahahahaha.
​

End of Page. 1, 2, 3

<><>​

Alexandria sat back from the computer, and put her face in her hands.


End of Interlude

Part Eleven

 

Trump Card

Part 11: Alternate Points of View


Director Piggot

"You went into the house," Piggot stated, her voice flat and hard. "Why did you do that?"

Armsmaster would have stiffened to attention, if he had not already been in that posture.

"My report covers -" he began, but she cut him off.

"I have your report right here," she snapped, slapping a hand down on her desk. "I want to hear it from you. Personally. And kindly do not leave out the part where armed troopers threatened a teenage girl with automatic firearms."

He drew a deep breath. "I was proceeding toward the house that you had indicated to me, belonging to Daniel Hebert. Less than a block away from the house, I encountered a person, also proceeding toward the house. This person was dressed in a manner similar to that described by Vista and Aegis, down to the goggles. This person's physical type fitted the description of Taylor Hebert."

He paused for a moment, and Piggot jumped in. "Did you see or hear anything that would help to specifically pin this person's identity on the Hebert girl? Hair, for instance? Voice? Eyes? Skin colour?"

Reluctantly, he shook his head. "The person was the right height and could have been the right build, given that the clothes were a little loose. Apart from that ... no. No hair was showing, no skin was showing."

The Director's lips thinned slightly, and she nodded curtly. "Go on."

"The person knew I was there; he or she glanced back at me. I turned on all my lights, and prepared to effect a capture."

"But then the person evaded you." It wasn't a question.

He nodded. "Yes." The admission appeared to pain him. "He or she went in between the houses."

"Did you attempt to pursue on foot?" She knew the answer to that one, but asked him anyway.

"No. By the time I was off the bike, the person was out of sight. I saw him, or her, hurdle a three-foot hedge with ease. Does Taylor Hebert have a background in athletics?"

She shook her head. "All the information we have indicates a more sedentary lifestyle."

"Well, this person is adept at track and field," he stated. "Athletic and acrobatic."

"But you have a theory to cover that." Again, it wasn't a question.

He nodded. "If she's allied herself with Über and L33t -"

Piggot snorted; she could not help herself. "That pair of losers!"

"Who may just have pulled off a major heist last night, and got away clean, with millions of dollars worth of gear," he reminded her. "I'm just saying that if she's allied herself with them, she could easily have picked up any skills she needs, by tapping Über's power."

To her credit, Piggot became very thoughtful. "And if she's giving them direction and helping them pull off jobs like that one last night, that makes me very concerned indeed." She shook her head. "But we worry about that later. Continue."

"I lost track of the person," continued Armsmaster, "but I set up on the street separating that block from the Hebert house. If it was Taylor Hebert, and she crossed the street, I would know about it."

"But she crossed it anyway," Piggot stated implacably.

He nodded. "The only thing I can think of is if she hitched a ride on the truck. When the men got out, they saw someone running into the yard. They went looking, but found no-one. A few of them got turned around, and the west side of the house was uncovered for a few moments. They heard a noise from that side, but when they went to investigate, they found nothing."

"But it could have been Taylor Hebert getting into the house."

He nodded again. "Her bedroom window opens on to that side. It's sixteen feet up the side of the house - but the driveway's on that side, and Hebert parks his car there. Almost directly under the window."

"Sixteen feet," mused Piggot, "but with a car to stand on, that's closer to eleven or twelve feet. The Hebert girl is a bit less than six feet tall, so she'd have seven feet of reach. So we're looking at a four or five foot gap. If she jumped, got purchase -"

"Athletic and acrobatic," he reminded her.

"She could make it," she concluded.

He nodded. "That's what I figured. Once we saw the person in the yard, I figured we were in the end zone anyway. The guy in charge of the troops, what's his name -"

"Michaels," she supplied.

"Michaels, right. We concurred that we had a case for hot pursuit. So they demanded entry, Hebert opened the door, the PRT guys went in, found the right bedroom -"

"And there she was, lying in bed, as innocent as a newborn lamb," she interrupted scathingly. "Screaming her bloody head off."

He gritted his teeth. "If we'd been ten seconds earlier ..."

"But you weren't," she snapped. "We're just lucky that no-one has footage of this. That the PHO boards haven't snapped up this little fiasco and sent it nationwide. That Hebert has apparently decided that his daughter's privacy as a cape is more important than suing the PRT and Protectorate for millions. Because let me tell you something -"

"Actually, no," remarked a new voice. "Let me tell you something."

Both Armsmaster and Piggot turned toward the window. It was open, and a caped figure was just stepping through.

Director Piggot's mouth fell open, and then she closed it again.

"... oh," was all she managed.

Alexandria's smile was wintry. "'Oh' indeed, Emily," she murmured, closing the window behind her. "Now, let me tell you how it's going to be."

<><>​

There was a long silence in the room, then Piggot spoke up. "Is ... the Chief Director ...?"

Alexandria shook her head. "Chief Director Rebecca Costa-Brown is a busy woman," she declared. "For today, you can assume that whatever I say is what the Chief Director wants."

Piggot nodded slowly. "So, what do you know of the case?"

Alexandria's lips thinned. "I know that after you were told to back off with Taylor Hebert and make amends, you apparently decided instead to take your first opportunity to send PRT troops into her house, avoiding a massive PR catastrophe only by sheer, unbridled fluke. I know that you still have not managed to expedite Shadow Stalker's removal from the Wards, despite your assurances to the contrary. And I suspect that, due to these factors, exacerbated by perhaps the greatest failure of diplomacy in Brockton Bay since Lord's Port became the Boat Graveyard, Taylor Hebert has decided to embark upon a highly successful life of crime. As opposed to, say, joining the Wards."

Her delivery was flat, but it was underscored by a tone so cutting that it almost drew blood. Piggot felt physically ill; she had been dreading the fallout, and it was shaping up to be even worse than she had imagined. "Uh, I intend to be taking steps -"

Alexandria's hard gaze locked on to her from behind the steel helmet; she stumbled to a halt. "No, I will be 'taking steps'. You will do nothing except carry out those orders which I will pass on to you. Orders directly from the Chief Director. Do you understand?"

Emily Piggot nodded silently.

Alexandria smiled again; there was no humour in it. "Good. You've done a fine job as Director here over the last ten years; I'd hate for you to throw it all away now. Fortunately for you, the Hebert fiasco has not made waves. So you'll keep your position, but with the strict understanding that you are on notice. Any of your actions, from here on in, are subject to audit, and you to summary dismissal, if it's decided that you screwed up to this magnitude again, without seeking advice up the line. Is that understood?"

Numbly, Piggot nodded again.

"Good," Alexandria told her. "Armsmaster. You are removed from leadership of the local Protectorate team, effective immediately. Miss Militia will take your place. You will undergo assessment, retraining and whatever else is deemed necessary until you are considered fit to hold a leadership position in the field once more."

She didn't ask him if he understood; the question, and the answer, would have been superfluous.

"Now," she went on. "Your orders regarding Taylor Hebert are quite simple. Hands. Off. Full stop. No ifs, buts or maybes. Director Piggot, I understand that you've been attempting to recruit her into the Wards?"

Piggot cleared her throat. "I, uh, I've been trying to contact her, to open a dialogue. But she doesn't respond. There's no negotiation. She asks me, is Shadow Stalker gone, and ... "

"And you say no, so she hangs up," completed Alexandria. "Got it. Well, perhaps you should have moved faster on that."

Her tone was mild, but Piggot winced anyway. "I've been trying. But every time I try to move things along, she threatens to contact Youth Guard, and I do not want them in my building."

Alexandria nodded slowly. "Well, I can't fault you on that, at least. Well, your orders are clear. You don't contact Taylor Hebert or her father, you don't consider her to be a suspect in any crimes, no matter how compelling the circumstantial evidence. You go only off eyewitness accounts, and evidence gathered at the scene. Capture her in costume, well done. Anything less blatant than that, kid gloves. Are we understood?"

Her gaze took in Armsmaster and Piggot both; after a moment, they nodded.

"Good." She smiled brightly. "Now, I'm going to speak to the recalcitrant Shadow Stalker. She is in the building, yes?"

Piggot nodded. "In the Wards base, yes. Monitor duty."

"Ugh." Alexandria grimaced, but her tone was almost whimsical. "Monitor duty. Almost as bad as juvey. Oh, well." She moved toward the door, then stopped. "Where could I get a pair of those electrical cuffs that you use to restrain her?"

"Uh, I have a pair," Armsmaster told her. He detached them from his belt, handed them to her. "We've assessed that she's not a flight risk -"

"Faced with the imminent possibility of juvenile detention, that might change," she informed him gravely. She looked at Piggot. "And one last thing before I go. You were hell-bent on catching her red-handed, forcing her into the Wards, just as you did with Shadow Stalker. But you see how that's turned out with her. Now I want you to imagine the potential consequences of a resentful teenager, who by all accounts can use the powers of those she taps into better than the owners of said powers, forced into a situation where she's surrounded by a multitude of destructive powers. Working for people against whom she holds a quite understandable grudge. Think, if you will, on exactly how many ways that could turn out badly."

With that, she stepped out the door, and closed it behind her.

Piggot and Armsmaster looked at each other for a long moment, then the armoured hero slowly subsided into a chair. Piggot did not object.

"Fuck," he muttered.

She did not disagree.

<><>​

Shadow Stalker

The buzzer sounded, and the monitor screens flashed yellow, indicating a visitor. Sophia picked up her mask from the desk and fitted it over her face, but she did not turn to see who the newcomer was. She had to do monitor duty; she didn't have to be polite.

"Shadow Stalker."

The voice was right behind her; it was unfamiliar. And Missy and Chris had stopped their inane conversation, over in the eating area. She turned and looked. And then looked up.

Looking down at her, lips set in a hard line, was perhaps the last person that Sophia wanted to see.

“Uh, Alexandria,” she managed, jumping to her feet. “If you're looking for Triumph, he's off duty, but Aegis -”

“ - is not the person I want to talk to.” Alexandria's voice was hard, even harsh. “You are.”

Sophia drew in a breath. “If this is about those bullshit charges they've got me on -”

“Shut up,” snapped Alexandria; Sophia shut up. “We will speak about this, on the roof. Now.”

“I, uh -” began Sophia. Alexandria glared at her. To the best of Sophia's knowledge, the Triumvirate hero didn't have any Master powers, or death-ray vision for that matter, but Sophia wouldn't have been able to prove either assertion at that moment. “... uh, right. On the roof.”

“Wrists,” Alexandria ordered. “You'll be wearing these.” She reached behind her and produced a pair of the specialised cuffs that Armsmaster had made up.

“Oh, no, wait, that's bullshit,” Sophia protested. “I haven't tried to run even once. You don't need those.”

“Director Piggot thinks you do,” Alexandria told her coldly. “Armsmaster thinks you do. And, more importantly, I think you do. After you hear what I have to say, you may just become a flight risk. So give me your wrists. Now.”

Sophia shook her head. “I'm not going to -”

Alexandria's voice was low and soft. “That. Is. An. Order.”

Sophia felt a chill go down her back. Disobeying a direct order from a member of the Triumvirate, in front of witnesses …

This could bury me. Youth Guard or no Youth Guard.

She put out her wrists, and felt the cuffs click into place. Immediately, they commenced humming ominously.

Alexandria placed one hand lightly on her shoulder. “Come on, Shadow Stalker,” she stated. “Let's go.”

Sophia did not want to go to the roof for a talk with Alexandria. “Uh, I'm on monitor duty,” she hedged. “Not supposed to leave the screens unattended.”

Alexandria nodded. “Understood. Vista!”

Across the room, Vista stood up. “Yes, ma'am?” she asked.

“You're on monitor duty until Shadow Stalker gets back.”

Vista nodded. “Yes, ma'am.” She started toward the computer console.

Alexandria smiled slightly. “Thank you. Shall we go?”

Guided by the light touch – which she knew at any minute could cease being light – Sophia went with Alexandria toward the door.

<><>​

They emerged from the lift doors into the roof complex. Alexandria guided Sophia out on to the roof proper; the two guards on duty stiffened to attention, and saluted.

Alexandria returned the salutes, then nodded to them. “At ease, boys. Take five, if you don't mind.”

“Ma'am?” asked one of the guards.

Alexandria stepped a little closer, and lowered her voice. “I need to have a private conversation with Shadow Stalker about her immediate future. Just her and me. I'll watch the roof while you're gone. Understood?”

The guard nodded at once. “Understood, ma'am. Taking five, as ordered.”

Sophia watched them heading toward the lift, then turned back toward Alexandria.

“Okay, you got me up here,” she began defiantly. “So give me your talk, and we can -”

The hand that closed around her throat shut her up very quickly indeed. She tried to pull it off of her, but she may as well have been trying to bend a steel bar in her bare hands. Looking into Alexandria's eyes, she found nothing resembling mercy.

“You represent a problem to me,” Alexandria mused, even as she walked Sophia over to the edge of the roof. Sophia found that she could breathe, barely, but speech was impossible. “I usually remove problems, as quickly and efficiently as possible. So I have decided that, tonight, you will cease being a problem to me. One way or the other.”

Sophia felt her face suffusing with blood; she was finding it harder to breathe. She made a vague choking noise, waving weakly toward her throat.

The grip let up on her throat, and she drew a shuddering breath into her lungs. Alexandria's expression had not changed in the slightest. “What … what are the choices?” rasped Sophia.

“Option one,” Alexandria told her, “is that you go down to Director Piggot's office and confess to every single crime you have ever committed. Including all the assaults against Taylor Hebert. Leave nothing out. Then ask politely to be removed from the Wards program, and to be placed into juvenile detention.”

“Fuck that!” snapped Sophia, her natural rebelliousness and arrogance pushing aside the fear she had felt a moment ago. “I'm not going to dig my own fucking grave!”

Alexandria nodded, unsurprised. Her hand closed on the front of Sophia's costume, and lifted; Sophia felt her feet leave the ground. Turning, Alexandria held her out over the drop, supported only by the grip on her costume. With a twist of the wrist, Alexandria tightened her collar, cutting off her blood circulation. Blackness began to well up around her vision.

“Option two,” Alexandria went on, “is that I drop you, now. It will be a tragic case of a misguided escape attempt. I tried to catch you, but you'd fallen too far, and the deceleration snapped your neck.” Her expression still had not altered in the slightest.

She let Sophia hang there for a long moment, during which the Ward felt her consciousness slipping away, before moving her back on to the rooftop. When she let go, Sophia fell to her knees, holding her throat and gagging. Alexandria just stood, looking down at her dispassionately.

Once she had gotten her breath back, Sophia looked up at Alexandria. “You're fucking nuts. There's no way you're going to kill me if I refuse to confess. I'm a Ward, and you're in the Protectorate. It's stupid. It's insane. It's - it's against the fucking law!”

Alexandria's chuckle was as dry as autumn leaves. “Says the girl who broke the law so very many times, for her own amusement.” Her voice became harsh once more. “Listen to me, very carefully, and you may yet live out the night.”

Sophia was starting to get the idea that she had perhaps miscalculated the depth of trouble in which she had landed. She stared up at Alexandria, eyes wide behind her mask. “I'm listening,” she admitted at last.

“Good,” Alexandria murmured, crouching so as to get down to Sophia's level. Then her hand lanced out, seized the front of Sophia's costume once more, and they were airborne. Straight up they went, at a speed that took Sophia's breath away. When they stopped, Brockton Bay was far, far below them. A chill wind made Sophia's cloak flap and brought goosepimples to her skin; Alexandria did not seem to notice it.

“Now that I have your attention,” the elder hero announced. “We come to the matter of Taylor Hebert. I would have her in the Wards, or at least, favourably inclined toward us. You are a stumbling block in that matter, which is why you are being removed. Tonight.”

Sophia frowned; it didn't make sense. “Fucking Hebert? Is that what this is about? Why do you want her?”

Alexandria sighed. “She can copy powers. Any powers. She's good at it.”

Sophia shrugged. “And so?”

“Two of myself, or two of Eidolon, at an Endbringer fight,” Alexandria filled her in. “Two of Panacea, anywhere. In fact, if she joined the Wards, she could have whatever powerset she needed, of the ones available in the area, to do what she needed.” She brought Sophia's face close to hers. “She is worth ten, a hundred, a thousand of you. Currently, she doesn't like the Protectorate. That is largely your fault. I'm willing to do quite a lot to redress that balance. Your death? Won't be even a footnote.”

Sophia wanted to look down, but she didn't want to know how high up she was. She was beginning to shake; she told herself it was from the cold. “W-what do you want from me?”

Alexandria plucked off Sophia's mask, stared her in the eyes. “I want your solemn assurance that you will confess every single crime, every murder, every last assault on Taylor Hebert. That you will ask to be removed from the Wards and sent to juvey. That you will not appeal your sentence. That you will never speak of this conversation to anyone, ever. And you will, of course, never speak of Taylor Hebert's secret.”

Sophia blinked, tried to think. There had to be a way out -

“There is no way out.” Alexandria's voice was calm, implacable. “You have two choices. You must choose one, and mean it, or I will choose the other.” She paused. “And just so you know? I have spent decades learning how to read people. I'm very good at it. If I detect the slightest deceit, the slightest hint that you're holding something back, I will assume that you intend to not be honest with your choice.”

She twisted Sophia's collar once more, just lightly. “And if you should happen to tell a wild tale someday to someone about this night … well, I have ears in many, many places. And I will find you. And you will die.”

Sophia desperately wanted to cry, to beg, to plead for her life. But she refused to. She would die first. But she also wanted to live. While I live, I'm a survivor.

Her stomach convulsed, and a few drops of urine escaped from her bladder. She did her best to control her expression. “I choose to live,” she whispered.

Alexandria tilted her head. “What was that?” she asked quietly.

Sophia took a deep breath, felt the tears of pure terror freezing on her cheeks. “I choose to live,” she repeated. “Please, let me confess. I'll tell them everything. Just let me live.”

A nod. “Good choice.”

They dropped, so rapidly that Sophia's bladder escaped her control a second time. She thrust down the humiliation, forced it from her thoughts. I have to live. I have to live.

When they landed on the roof, Alexandria let her go. Immediately, Sophia fell to her knees and threw up; everything that she had eaten in the last twelve hours ended up decorating the rooftop. Alexandria waited patiently, then helped her up. She offered her a wipe for her mouth, before handing her mask back.

Fitting it back into place, Sophia moved toward the lift, her knees still a little wobbly. Alexandria offered her arm for support; Sophia leaned on it, but refused to feel grateful.

The lift opened and the guards emerged, just as they got to it. “Sorry, but there's a bit of a mess on the roof, over there,” Alexandria told them. “You might want to get someone up here, to clean it up.”

<><>​

Director Piggot looked up when Sophia and Alexandria entered her office. She stared from one to the other. “Can I help you?” she asked, a little uncertainly.

Drawing a deep breath, Sophia stepped forward. “I want to make a confession,” she stated clearly. “I want to confess all the crimes I committed as an independent, and as a Ward.”

Piggot blinked, then held up a hand. Rummaging in a desk drawer, she pulled out a large digital recorder. Switching it on, she recorded her name, then played it back, to her satisfaction. Starting the recorder again, she stated, “This is Director Emily Piggot, of PRT East-North-East. Speaking to me is Shadow Stalker, also known as Sophia Hess.” She gave the date and time, then looked at Sophia. “Now, if you can start from the beginning?”

“May I have a seat?” asked Sophia. “This could take some time.”

Alexandria pulled a seat over for her; Sophia sat. She began. “I killed three men that I know of while I was an independent … “

Alexandria left while she was still speaking. She didn't notice.

<><>​

Alexandria

She rang the phone number she had been given while she was still three miles out. The phone was answered by a male voice.

“Hebert household. Danny Hebert speaking.”

“Mr Hebert,” she replied. “I'm pleased to have caught you. Is Taylor at home, please?”

“Who is this?” he answered, suspiciously.

“This is Alexandria,” she told him bluntly. “I would like to speak to Taylor about your situation regarding the PRT and the Protectorate.”

“Alexandria? You mean, the Alexandria?” His voice sounded less than convinced; she didn't exactly blame him.

“The one and only, Mr Hebert,” she assured him. “I'll be landing in your back yard in thirty seconds. Would you mind letting me in?”

<><>​

She dropped straight in from two thousand feet, a whistling plummet that startled a few night birds on the way past. She held her cape down as she dropped, a practised move that ensured that it would not fly up and potentially entangle her head.

Alighting gently in the back yard, she looked the house over; it was smaller than she had expected, but it was reasonably well-kept. Striding up to the back porch, she mounted the steps and was about to knock when the door was opened. Standing there, face to face with her, was a teenage girl.

She had seen the photos, and recognised her immediately. “Hello, Taylor,” she greeted her, holding out her hand. “I'm -”

“- Alexandria, I know,” Taylor replied, taking her hand and shaking it. She applied firm pressure, firm enough that Rebecca actually felt it. Behind her mask, her eyes opened just a little. So that's what it's like to meet someone of equal strength.

“Odd, I know,” Taylor commented, as she led the way into the living room. “I get that look a lot.”

Rebecca blinked, as she assimilated the fact that Taylor had just read her, even with the mask on, as easily as she read other people.

I'm used to being the smart one in the room, of being three steps ahead of everyone else. She's already assimilating my powers.

In the living room, an older man, skinny and balding, wearing glasses and a slightly stunned look, stood and offered his hand. “Danny Hebert. Very pleased to meet you, ma'am. Juice? Coffee? Tea?”

She was much more careful with his hand than with Taylor's. “Juice would be fine, thank you,” she replied with a polite smile.

He left on his errand, and she turned back to Taylor. “You're probably wondering -”

“After last night's screwup, you finally lost patience with Director Piggot and came to sort matters out for yourself,” Taylor told her bluntly. “You've told them to leave me alone, done something to get Shadow Stalker out of the Wards, and come here to apologise in person.”

Rebecca's jaw only failed to drop because of her iron control over her musculature. I think she's smarter than I am.

Taylor shook her head. “No, it's only simple deduction. You'd only be here if you thought you had a chance to get me into the Wards, and Shadow Stalker is the big problem there. Likewise, you don't want anything leaking about PRT soldiers pointing assault rifles at teenage girls, so you've told Director Piggot to back off. Because you and I know damn well that even if I was committing crimes, I'm not about to let them even come close to catching me again. If they try, it'll only turn out badly for them.”

The certainty in her tone rang true to Rebecca's ear. Could she be running a bluff on me?

She didn't think so, but after speaking to Taylor for just a few moments, she was beginning to have her doubts. Taylor was undoubtedly very bright, and with Rebecca's powers added on top …

“I don't think I can bluff you,” Taylor assured her. “And it's not hard to read you. We're very much on the same wavelength.”

They were, Rebecca realised. When Danny came back into the room, they both turned and smiled at him, each took a cup, and each sipped at exactly the same moment.

“What I would not do to have you beside me, fighting Behemoth … “ murmured Rebecca.

Danny looked from one to the other. “That was creepy,” he declared. “Are you reading each others' minds?”

“Not quite,” Rebecca stated, then realised that Taylor had said the exact same words, at exactly the same time. Danny blinked and shook his head.

Rebecca chuckled. I could not cow this girl the same way I cowed Shadow Stalker. “I am so not used to being on the back foot like this. I came over for another reason as well.”

Taylor took a sip from her cup. “To ask me if I want to join the Wards?” she hazarded; a grin lurking at the corner of her mouth showed that she was reasonably confident of the answer.

“Actually, no,” Rebecca replied, feeling a slight satisfaction that Taylor couldn't anticipate all of her moves. “Just to tell you this much. If you're interested in joining the Wards, we would be happy for you to join them. If you aren't, then we can't make you, and to try would be to court disaster. But whatever else you are doing, with whomever else, I'm not going to bother you and I'm not going to tell you to stop."

She paused for emphasis. "Just make sure that if you're doing something not necessarily legal, with people who haven't been all too successful to date, try to make sure that they don't go over the top with their newfound success. We'd like to have the option to ask you to join us at some point, if we need a large menace put down. And it would be much easier to do that if you haven't hurt a lot of people in the meantime.”

Taylor nodded. “That's fair,” she agreed. “And you're right. I'm not interested in joining the Wards at the moment. But if you need my help, I'll step up. In fact, I'm working on something at the moment.”

Behind her mask, Rebecca raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What might that be?”

Taylor grinned, fairly radiating glee. “What, and ruin the surprise?”

Teenagers. Rebecca rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine. I'm sure I'll find out about it when the time comes.”

Serious again, Taylor nodded. “You can count on it.”

“Good. Well, that was all I needed to talk to you about, so -”

“Ah, could you do me a favour and wait a few minutes?” asked Taylor. “There's something I want to figure out, and it's much easier with your Thinker rating.”

Bemused, Rebecca nodded. “I suppose.” She finished the juice while watching Taylor concentrating, obviously thinking hard about something.

Then Taylor nodded. “Thanks. I appreciate that.” She shook Rebecca's hand. “It was nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Rebecca noted. “Also, very interesting.” She shook Danny's hand as well, on the way out. “Good night.”

They stood at the back door, watching, as she walked down the back steps, then vaulted skyward. A lone dog barked, far below.

Back up at ten thousand feet, she shook her head slowly. I think I got involved just in time. I would not want her mad at me.

<><>​

Coil

Thomas Calvert read over the report that had just been submitted to him.

Interesting, he thought. Very interesting, indeed.

I think that I might need to meet this Taylor Hebert. Get to know her a little.

With a little incentive, she may be able to keep my other Thinker in line.


End of Part Eleven

PHO Interlude 2

 

Trump Card

PHO Interlude 2


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■​

♦Topic: Shadow Stalker hurt?
In: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► Cape Doings ► Wards

CapeFollower (Original Poster) (Veteran Member)
Posted on January 10, 2011:

Is it just me, or has our favourite urban-vigilante-turned-Ward not been around these last few days? Normally, she's very active, especially over the weekend, but recently ... nada.

(Showing Page 1 of 3)

Kilimanjaro
Replied on January 10, 2011:
Huh. Come to think of it, I haven't seen her around either. Usually you see her doing solo patrols, or out and about with another Ward or Protectorate member.

FreddieK (Veteran Member)
Replied on January 10, 2011:
Maybe she's just taking time off?

XxVoid_CowboyxX (Temp-banned) (Muted)
Replied on January 10, 2011:
DELETED BY MODERATOR

TinMother (Moderator) (Veteran Member)
Replied on January 10, 2011:
Posting information that can lead to the discovery of the identity of a cape is prohibited. Have a ban and a mute while you think about that.

Bagrat (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)
Replied on January 10, 2011:
Wow, okay.
So something's obviously happened.
I'd heard that her career before she joined the Wards was not entirely free of potential problems. Maybe something from back then came back to bite her?

BrickFrog
Replied on January 11, 2011:
maybe one of her old enemies caught up with her?

FreddieK (Veteran Member)
Replied on January 11, 2011:
Wasn't she chasing the Undersiders for a bit there?

Kilimanjaro
Replied on January 11, 2011:
The who?

EraserHead (Veteran Member)
Replied on January 11, 2011:
No, that's an Earth Aleph band.

Bagrat (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)
Replied on January 11, 2011:
Guys, it's obvious that something's happening that we don't know about, and throwing up speculation might step on the wrong toes, so how about just posting facts.
​

End of Page. 1, 2, 3

(Showing Page 2 of 3)

Jumper
Replied on January 11, 2011:
Could it have something to do with the sightings of Alexandria we had on Saturday night? Flying to and from the PRT building?

BrickFrog
Replied on January 11, 2011:
Wait, Alexandria was here? In Brockton Bay?
Now it all makes sense.
Oh wait, no it doesn't.
More info pls?

MinionNumber21 (Verified PRT Agent)
Replied on January 11, 2011:
I can say this much. Alexandria was at the PRT building on that night. She went up to the roof and had a chat with Shadow Stalker. What they chatted about, is not something I am prepared to speculate about. But the rumor is that Shadow Stalker is considering retiring from the Wards.

BrickFrog
Replied on January 11, 2011:
Ooooh, mysterious rooftop chats!
Maybe the big A heard she was thinking of quitting and dropped by to talk her out of it?

Kilimanjaro
Replied on January 11, 2011:
Maybe she dropped by to make sure Shadow Stalker handed back her secret Wards decoder ring.

Lancer (Veteran Member)
Replied on January 11, 2011:
Or maybe she was there on other business altogether, and just happened to want to have a quiet word with Shadow Stalker for some other reason. She's Alexandria. Whatever she's doing, she has a good reason for it.

MissMilitia (Verified Cape) (Protectorate ENE)
Replied on January 11, 2011:
After much consideration, Shadow Stalker has decided that she will be retiring from the Wards for civilian life. We support her in her decision, and hope that she will be happy there.

Bagrat (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)
Replied on January 11, 2011:
... well, damn.
Shadow Stalker leaving the Wards? That'll leave them a bit short handed, won't it?

BrickFrog
Replied on January 11, 2011:
maybe she kicked someone's ass a little too hard, and she's being eased out before the shit hits the fan.

DeadManWalking
Replied on January 11, 2011:
Maybe she's being Mastered, and it's not her doing it at all.
​

End of Page. 1, 2, 3

(Showing Page 3 of 3)

Lancer (Veteran Member)
Replied on January 11, 2011:
Or maybe she's actually just retiring.
You know? Like people do sometimes.
Could be she's decided to go back to being an independent.

Kilimanjaro
Replied on January 11, 2011:
Bagrat raises an excellent point. Who are they gonna bring in to replace her?

DeadManWalking
Replied on January 11, 2011:
Who said they had to bring anyone in to replace her?

FreddieK (Veteran Member)
Replied on January 11, 2011:
You live in Brockton Bay, and you have to ask that?

Tapdancer
Replied on January 11, 2011:
Maybe New York or Boston will lend us one of theirs.

BrickFrog
Replied on January 11, 2011:
That should be fun.

Bagrat (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)
Replied on January 11, 2011:
Well, we're just going to have to wait and see.
​

End of Page. 1, 2, 3

<><>​

Taylor shut the computer down and pushed her chair back. Thank you, Alexandria.


End of Interlude

Part 12

 

Trump Card

Part Twelve: The Perfect Alibi


I woke up on Monday morning with the urge to skip school strong in my mind. Part of it was due to the fact that I really, truly, desperately wanted to get to Über and L33t's base so that I could finish building the projects I had running. The other part was that, even without Sophia there, Emma and Madison were still quite able to make my life a misery, if they should put their minds to it.

I thought it over while I was out on my morning jog; having picked up athletic skills from Über, it only made sense to maintain them, and I was pleasantly surprised by how far and fast I could run now. Friday night had been a real eye-opener for me; parkour was no longer a thing that people did on Youtube. It was something that had saved my bacon, personally.

When it came down to it, what did I really have to fear from Emma and Madison? They couldn't shut me in the locker again. They couldn't out me as a cape without facing PRT retribution. I didn't think they would get physical with me, not without Sophia there to initiate it and back them up. And whatever verbal abuse they threw at me, I could take.

And if they really wanted to go that step farther, to escalate, to take my stuff and destroy it again, I could deal. I could escalate harder than they ever could.

I'm not scared of them any more.

Holy shit, I'm not scared of them.

The realisation lightened my steps and gave me a burst of energy; before I quite knew it, I was on the home stretch. I sprinted down the street, crossed the road, and hurdled the fence without slowing down.

Dad looked up as I entered the back door, panting and sweating, but grinning widely.

“Hey, kiddo,” he greeted me. “You're looking happy.”

“Just some stuff I've figured out,” I told him.

He nodded. “That's good, then. Breakfast'll be ready in a moment.”

I inhaled the cooking smells, and suddenly felt ravenous; my stomach growled sharply. “Smells great, Dad,” I told him, quite honestly. Leaning up, I kissed him on the cheek. “'Scuse, gotta take a shower. All sweaty.”

I was still in high spirits as I trotted up the stairs; it was looking to be a good day.

<><>​

I don't often sing in the shower, but I did that morning. As I dried myself, I made a mental note to use Über's power to acquire the ability to actually sing well. The thought made me chuckle; I was still grinning about it when I came downstairs, doubled back through the front hall, and joined Dad in the kitchen.

“So, what was it that you worked out on your run?” he asked me as we sat down for our meal.

I slid my fork under some egg. “Oh, that I don't need to worry about Emma and Madison any more. Sophia's gone for good, and without her, they're a lot less likely to bother me.”

He frowned. “I can't guarantee that they'll leave you totally alone,” he pointed out. “If it was all her, then Emma and Madison wouldn't have taken to it so thoroughly. So watch your back, and if anything happens, please consider telling a teacher.”

I shook my head. “Popular kids win out over unpopular ones. We both know that, Dad. I'll just keep my head down. It'll be okay.”

He frowned. “If I know Alan Barnes, he'll have prepped Emma to watch for you using cape powers, so she can report you.”

“Good luck to her, then,” I responded with a grin. “I don't get powers unless there's another cape nearby.”

He nodded understandingly. “So, do you think you'll have much trouble catching up after your week off?”

“I shouldn't think so,” I assured him. “But I'm gonna insist on being assigned another locker. I don't care how much they scrub that one out, I'm not going near it again.”

“Good,” he told me. “If they give you any trouble, tell them to call me.”

I gave him a smile. “Thanks, Dad,” I told him. “I appreciate that.” I glanced at the wall clock. “Whoops, gotta run.”

“Me too,” he agreed. “Give me a hand to clear the table?”

I grinned. “Sure thing.”

Moving quickly, we got the table cleared and the plates into the sink to soak, then I dashed out of the house. I leaped from the top step of the front porch, landing three or four yards down the front path. The turn on to the pavement slowed me a little, then I gained speed once more, once I had a straight run.

Running, even with my pack full of books, was easier now; I couldn't keep up the pace that I maintained on my morning run, but it was definitely faster than I could have managed before. I covered the two blocks to the bus stop in good time; good enough that I had a few minutes to sit and catch my breath before the bus arrived.

<><>​

I had fully intended to do as I had told Dad, to keep my head down once I got to school. No need to make myself a target, after all. All I had to do was get through the day; after today, everything would be different.

But when I walked in through the front doors of Winslow, I found myself striding along, head high. I was no longer unsure, uncertain, a victim. I had taken on Aegis and won. I was not the same person who had gone into the locker. I was something more.

I noted in passing that my locker didn't have a smell coming from it; they had obviously exerted themselves to ensure that the incident was forgotten as soon as possible. But, as I had told Dad, I turned my steps toward the principal's office.

There was no way in hell I would use that locker, ever again.

<><>​

Carrie Blackwell looked up at the sharp rapping on her office door. She frowned a little; surely it was too early in the day for students to be getting sent to her for punishment?

“Come in,” she called.

The door opened, and a tall, lanky figure stepped through. It took her a moment to recognise the girl, so complete was the change in posture. No longer shuffling along with her head down, she looked Carrie in the eye as she fronted up to the desk. Alert, aware, even challenging.

“Can I help you, Miss Hebert?” Blackwell enquired sharply.

The girl nodded curtly. “Yes, you can, ma'am,” she replied. Her tone was a little sharp, a little hard, to be actually polite, although the words were all there. “I'd like to have another locker assigned to me, please.”

Blackwell blinked, a little taken aback. “A new locker?” she repeated. “Your old one is perfectly serviceable. It has been cleaned and disinfected -”

The girl was shaking her head. “No, ma'am. That locker will never be serviceable to me, ever again. I would like a new one. Now.”

Blackwell shook her head in turn. “I can't just issue a new locker on demand -”

The Hebert girl leaned forward over her desk, resting her weight on her knuckles. “Sure you can,” she replied evenly. “Or I can request that you call my father over the matter. He has a friend who works in TV. How fast do you think this would make the news, and how bad would it make the school look?” She paused. “Alternatively, you can just give me a new locker. Please.”

Carrie Blackwell saw the resolve, the determination, in Taylor Hebert's eyes. There was no give in the girl now, no backing down. She would carry out the threat. And there was no way Blackwell wanted Winslow's name being dragged through the muck for a second time in two weeks.

She compressed her lips. “Very well,” she muttered. “I'll call the janitor.”

Taylor Hebert smiled sunnily. “Thank you.”

<><>​

I had the janitor set the new combination on my locker, then I stashed my books inside. Without Sophia – Shadow Stalker – to defeat the lock by the simple expedient of going into her shadow form, they should be reasonably safe there.

Of course, this would not bring back the things that she had stolen from my locker in the past – my mother's flute, for one, or my backpack that one time – but they should be secure for the moment.

I finished stacking the books the way I liked them – new books all, given that the old ones would have had to be burned after the incident – and pulled out the ones I would need for first period. By this time, both Principal Blackwell and the janitor had gone, headed back to their respective duties. But when I turned around, I wasn't alone.

Emma, flanked by Madison, stared coldly at me. Half a dozen other girls backed them up; I knew the type, the ones who wanted to be part of the popular group, but couldn't quite make it on their own. The rest of the hallway was relatively deserted; everyone else had gotten their books and gone elsewhere.

It had been nearly a year and a half since Emma had inexplicably turned on me, forsaking my friendship for that of Sophia Hess. It was much less inexplicable to me now; I had used my access to Alexandria's Thinker capabilities last night to good effect. I had Sophia's motivations, and Emma's as well, pretty well figured out, presuming a shared, traumatic experience while I'd been at summer camp. Madison was a different story; she was just a follower.

All of this meant that there was a balance of power, and a certain dynamic in their little trio. Quite a lot of their energy went toward bullying me, and Sophia, specifically, had aimed her efforts toward keeping me off balance, on the back foot. Not giving me a chance to muster a response. But now Sophia was no longer a part of the equation, unbalancing the other two, and that had to be worrying Emma and Madison, especially after the events of Monday last. On the other hand, I was very much balanced. Centred, even.

I smiled.

Emma blinked. It was so obvious; she had been waiting for me to turn around, to notice her and her cronies, to step back, to be so obviously cornered. To show fear.

I wasn't about to give her the pleasure.

Without looking, I put my book in my bag, closed the locker door, and spun the combination lock. Rattled the door to ensure that it was locked. Slung my bag over my shoulder. There were two ways this was going to go; she would back off and leave me alone, or she would push hard, working to re-establish her dominance over me, even with Sophia gone.

“Let me past, Emma,” I told her firmly.

Several of the girls snickered. Emma looked me up and down, and audibly sniffed. “Wow, Hebert. I'm surprised you even came back. But maybe you should have showered a little more. I can still smell you.”

So, pushing it is, then. I ignored the content of her words. They couldn't hurt me any more. “Emma, last warning. Let me past, or I will go through you. Try to stop me, and someone just might get hurt.”

“What are you saying, Hebert?” she asked clearly. “Are you saying you might have powers? Are you a cape, Hebert? You know it's illegal to use powers on normals.”

I rolled my eyes. “No, you moron,” I snapped. “I mean, I'll kick the shit out of you if you get in my way.”

I stepped forward; predictably, she brought up her hand to stop me. I let it contact my chest, then grabbed it, took hold of the little finger, twisted. Brought her to her knees, her eyes opening wide.

Another girl tried to grab my shoulder; without looking, I straight-armed her in the chest. She went backward, lost her balance, and sat down hard.

Madison tried to grab my wrist, to make me let go of Emma's finger. I took hold of her wrist with my free hand, and twisted. She went to her knees as well, face turning white.

Five girls faced me. I looked back at them, grim-faced. “First one moves on me, I'll stop being gentle,” I told them. “I will hurt someone. Anyone want a broken bone? Come right ahead.”

They didn't move. I took a step forward, adjusting my grip so that I didn't break Emma's finger. “Now, step aside.”

I wasn't sure what they saw in my face, or heard in my voice, but they stepped aside. It appeared that the 'talking to guys' skills I had picked up from Über's powers also worked when talking to bullies; good to know.

“Good,” I told them, and let Emma and Madison go. Walking between the girls, I headed off down the corridor.

“Hebert!” yelled Emma, from behind me. “This isn't over!”

I stopped, and turned around. “You'd better hope it is,” I told her bluntly. Turning on my heel, I kept on going.

<><>​

I got in trouble, of course.

Emma Barnes had grown up with a lawyer for a father. From him, she had absorbed a certain attitude of entitlement. What she wanted, she got; as the younger daughter, her whims were indulged more often than not. And so, even when she had been my best friend, she had found it very hard to take when she was denied a thing she wanted very much.

I did not know how long it took her to decide to go to Principal Blackwell about me. Nor did I know whether it was her decision or Blackwell's to call Mr Barnes about the matter. But I do know that I had not quite finished first period – Computers, with Mrs Knott, which I was quite enjoying – when the call came for me to report to the office.

Mrs Knott eyed me worriedly as I pushed my books back into my bag and stood up. She was my favourite teacher, just as Computers was my favourite class.

“Is everything all right, Taylor?” she asked me as I came up to the front of the classroom.

I shrugged. “Probably in trouble,” I told her. “Not sure how much. Thanks for filling me in on what you did last week.”

“That's all right,” she responded. “You'd better go now; no sense in being late and getting in more trouble.”

I gave her a grin as I left; if what I suspected was going on, I couldn't get in much more trouble.

<><>​

I entered Principal Blackwell's office, to see Emma, her father, Madison, her father, and the six girls all waiting for me. I ignored them and looked at Blackwell. “You called for me, ma'am?”

She nodded sharply. “Did you assault Emma Barnes and Madison Clements this morning?”

I raised my eyebrows in mock surprise. “Is that what they say? Is that why they're here?”

“You know what you did!” shouted Emma, then her father shushed her.

“Miss Hebert,” he began, but I overrode him.

“Where's my father?” I demanded of Blackwell.

“What?” she asked.

“My father,” I repeated. “You had the time to call in Mr Barnes and Mr Clements, but you didn't have the time to call in my father? Why is that, exactly? Do I not rate a parent as well?”

“He's not in his office, and we don't have a mobile number for him -” she began.

“He doesn't use a mobile,” I interrupted her. “So you had me pulled out of class for this. I've got classes to catch up on, Principal Blackwell. Do I need to remind you of the reason I missed those classes?”

“That's got nothing to do with this situation -” she began.

“The hell it doesn't,” I snapped. “It's got everything to do with this situation.My father isn't here? Fine. I go back to classes, or you send away Mr Barnes and Mr Clements.”

“You can't - “ she began.

I began to lose my temper, just a little bit. “Do you know what happened, when you and Carl left me at my locker? I had eight girls come at me. Those eight. They say I assaulted them? I say I defended myself. How is eight on one fair in any situation, ever?”

“They say they were just walking past -” began Blackwell.

“And just happened to stop me from walking away from my locker,” I finished acidly. “Last Monday? That was proof positive that I'm being bullied here at school. Sophia was the ringleader, and she's been pulled out of school because of it.”

“You can't know that -” Emma protested.

I grinned at her, showing my teeth. “Believe it.” I turned back to Blackwell. “Sophia was bullying me. You know it, and I know it. You also know who her closest friends were.” I tilted my head toward Emma and Madison. “I'm not going to point fingers, but surely you can add two and two.”

“Wait a minute,” Mr Barnes spoke up. “You can't just accuse -”

I turned to him. “Sir, I'm not accusing anyone of anything. I'm the one who's being accused, here. And I still don't see my father. So I'm going back to class.”

“If you walk out that door, Miss Hebert,” snapped Principal Blackwell, “consider yourself suspended.”

I shrugged my backpack on to my shoulders. “If I'm not going to get a fair hearing, I don't see why I should stay.” I opened the door.

“Last warning,” Blackwell told me.

I looked over my shoulder. “I'll be in tomorrow, with my father.”

I walked out the door.

<><>​

I was still seething slightly as I walked along the corridor, on the way out of the school. There was no way that I could have won, there. The deck had been stacked; Blackwell had decided – or chosen to believe – that I was at fault, before I ever walked into the room.

Not that I'd done much for my cause earlier, I belatedly realised. Railroading her into getting me a new locker before this incident occurred had simply set her against me at a really bad time.

Thinking it over, I also realised that I had underestimated Emma and Madison. They may not have planned for it, specifically, but once I had retaliated, they had used that against me. If I had stayed to argue my case, I would have had ten people arguing against me, and one biased judge; I wasn't foolish enough to believe that reasoned statements could sway Blackwell, not when Mr Barnes had his courtroom tricks to play on Emma's behalf.

The bell went for end of period; moments later, the hallways were full of kids, going from one class to another. I kept walking, but I paid attention to my power; I was vaguely curious about whether there were any more parahumans at Winslow.

None had presented themselves by the time I got to my locker, which also meant that Director Piggot probably hadn't sent any Wards over to Winslow to keep an eye on me. Not that I thought she would, not at such short notice. Later on, I suspected, she might. Of course, if she did that, I would know that she was having me watched, and she knew that. She might send someone unpowered; a PRT employee. Maybe a substitute teacher or something. I'll have to keep an eye out.

She wouldn't do anything blatant, of course; Alexandria's visit had ensured that. I wouldn't be harassed or followed; any school surveillance would be more for my benefit than otherwise, I suspected. Neither Piggot nor Alexandria wanted me to have any more motive to go villain.

I walked out through the doors, down the steps, and across the parking lot to the bus stop. At the forefront of my brain, I was deciding where I wanted to go; home, the library, somewhere else. But deep down, I already knew.

I had work to do.

<><>​

Über looked up as I pushed the door open, and entered the building that he and L33t optimistically called their 'base'.

“Hey, Hax,” he called out, barely puffing as he performed a flawless round on the Dance Dance Revolution machine they had installed on one wall. “Thought you had school?”

“'Had' is the operative word,” I replied. “Had to explain to a couple of people why they didn't put their hands on me, and now I'm suspended.”

“Damn,” he replied. “Sucks.”

I shrugged. “Gives me more time to kick on with you guys, get my shit sorted.” My power noted L33t's presence, and I put my light-spot on to him. “So is he still geeking out over the stuff we boosted?”

Über rolled his eyes as he stepped off the machine. “Hasn't stopped. Last I saw, he was trying to decide what he wanted to build next. But hey, I wanted to talk to you.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

He nodded. “Yeah. When you joined this team, it was on the understanding that you'd participate in our video blog posts. So far, we've done one robbery, and that was on the down-low. We did well by that, really well, but we need to keep putting our name out there. So we need to do something, soon, and you need to participate. So are you ready to do that?”

“That's why I'm here, now,” I told him with a grin. “I've got three things to finish up, and then I'll be ready.”

“Only three?” he joked. “L33t's usually got half a dozen things on the go.”

“Oh, there's more than just three inventions,” I assured him. “But I'm making three things.”

“So what are they?” he asked, obviously more than a little curious.

My grin widened. “You'll see. It'll knock your socks off.”

He shook his head ruefully. “It's easy to see you're just borrowing his power. I've never met a Tinker before who doesn't like to talk about what he's making.”

I shrugged. “I guess if I'm not obsessing over it twenty-four hours a day, it makes a difference.” I nodded to him. “And by the way, in case I didn't say it before, parkour rocks.”

He nodded, a grin of his own spreading across his face. “I know, right?”

We shared a high-five, then he returned to playing his video games. I stashed my lunch in the fridge, then headed into the area we had designated as 'my' work room. I'd done some work here over the weekend, getting my projects up and running, but they were still mostly unfinished. I decided to get the first one done.

<><>​

As I had told Über, I had to build machines to finish the project. One was a device to produce a flexible bio-plastic, designed to mimic human flesh and skin, based on the DNA sample that was fed into it. The outer layer would even grow a layer of what looked like fine hair and mimic dead skin cells, as well as fingernails and toenails where needed.

The other device would take a human hair and then replicate it ad infinitum, cutting off lengths roughly the same as the original sample.

After an hour or so of work, I had both the skin maker and the hair replicator up and running, so I could turn my attention to the main part of the project. Some of the more specialised devices that I had liberated from North Side went into it; if I hadn't had them, I would have had to build them. And while I could undoubtedly do just that – I could already figure out how to make those same devices at two-thirds the size and twice the efficiency – that would just be more time before completion. It made sense to acquire what I could, make what I couldn't.

In any case, some of the devices needed to be applied in more than one place, which was why I had picked up spares. I wouldn't have been able to do that; although I could build things that L33t couldn't, I was still unable to build two of the same device at the same time. While swapping out his power for someone else's meant that my limits were reset, an extant device still prevented another from being made. Which was why I was building a self-destruct into everything that I invented; I didn't want someone preventing me from building a spare tool, just by locking the original away from me.

<><>​

The work went well; I completed the basic work on the project, then started applying the external detail. It looked and felt really odd, even creepy. But the end result would be worth it.

Every detail had to be absolutely perfect; I had brought a mirror in, and did a lot of checking, but it seemed to look about right. Even the mole in the small of my back was correct, even though I could think of no circumstances where someone might be able to check on that. Certain details I'm going to gloss over altogether; let's just say 'anatomically correct' and leave it at that.

Finally, I fitted the control unit to the back of my neck, and sent the mental impulse to wake it up.

I/she awoke.

It was a really weird feeling; I was seeing and hearing through my eyes and ears, and also through my double's, who was leaning on a stand I had thrown together. I exerted my concentration, my control.

I/she stepped forward off the stand. My/her body worked well; flexible, smooth, no hesitation or jerkiness. Reaching up, I/she touched my/her finger to the tip of my/her nose. “Coordination good,” I/she noted.

I/she smiled.

I smiled as well.

I practised for a little while, making sure that I could do one thing while my double did another. I hadn't gone for a full AI; while possible, that would have been hard to put together in the available volume. Instead, I had cheated. Motor control was supplied by the brain I had put together for it. Personality and memories, on the other hand, were supplied over the control link; the longer I stayed connected, the more impressions it picked up from me, and the more it became like me. Best, if it needed to make a decision in real time, it could use the link to pull hints on what to do from my memories, without any conscious control required.

Once I was satisfied with my double, I had her put clothes on – I had brought spares – and then I opened the work room door.

<><>​

L33t lounged back, chewing on a sandwich. “So how long she been in there?” he asked.

“Six, seven hours,” Über replied. “Once she gets going, she's like you. Doesn't want to let go.”

L33t nodded. “It's a Tinker thing,” he agreed. “She say what she's making?”

“Nope.” Über shook his head and finished off his protein shake. “Wouldn't say a word about it.”

“Yeah, well, that's not a Tinker thing,” L33t informed him.

“Hey, I said that too,” Über noted.

And then the workroom door opened. They both looked over; Hax strolled out, looking rather pleased with herself. “Guys,” she greeted them, heading over to the fridge and pulling out her lunch.

Über went to greet her, but L33t tapped him on the shoulder, and pointed at the open door to the work room. Hax was emerging from the room, again. But this one was wearing different clothes, and moved a little more hesitantly. She looked around, as if seeing the room for the first time.

“Holy shit,” Über marvelled. “You built a body double.”

Hax grinned as she pulled out a chair and sat next to the other two; the double was wandering around the room, examining things carefully. “Yup. What do you think?” She opened the bag lunch and pulled out the fruit juice.

L33t got up and walked over to the double. He examined her; she looked back at him with a certain amount of curiosity. “Hello,” she greeted him, in a curiously childlike tone.

He walked all the way around her, examining her closely. “I can't see any physical flaws,” he concluded, “but she's going to need to be socialised before she can pass for you in company.”

“Actually, that's not going to be a problem,” Hax told him, shaking up the juice bottle.

“Why not?” asked Über curiously.

Hax grinned. “Because I'm the double.”

Both men turned to stare at her, then at the 'double', still standing in front of L33t. The latter nodded cheerfully. “Yup,” she confirmed. “Changed clothes with her, to see if you guys would pick up on it.”

The double, still seated, tossed the juice to her; Hax caught it, twisted the top off, and took a long swallow. While she was still doing so, the double went on. “So yeah, you think I'll pass for the original?”

“Holy shit,” muttered Über.

“Holy fucking hell,” L33t paraphrased.

<><>​

I stopped drinking from the juice bottle, and grinned at them both. “I'm gonna take that as a yes.”

“Fucking hell, yes,” Über praised me. He looked closely at the double. “That's insane. I still can't tell the difference, and you're both in the same room.”

I shrugged modestly, and wandered over to retrieve my bag lunch. “Wouldn't be much point, otherwise.”

“So what do we call her?” asked L33t.

Opening my pita wrap, I looked at him. “I'm going with 'Alibi'.”


End of Part Twelve

Part Thirteen

 

Trump Card

Part Thirteen: Preparation


Danny sat up on the sofa as the key rattled in the back door lock. Checking his watch, he frowned; it was late for Taylor to come in, and on a school night too. And the message he had found on the phone from Principal Blackwell …

With a sigh, he stood up from the sofa. As the back door opened, he walked through into the kitchen. Taylor saw him as she stepped inside; she didn't seem overly concerned.

“Hi, Dad.” She closed the door and locked it, then dropped the key on the table. “I'll put that back in the morning.”

“Taylor,” he began. “Principal Blackwell rang me today, and left a very disturbing message on the machine.”

“Of course she did,” Taylor replied, opening the fridge. “Can I use some of the ham? I haven't had anything since lunchtime.”

He found her lack of concern … worrying. “Taylor, this is serious,” he persisted. “She told me that you were suspended due to your behaviour. That you acted in a totally disrespectful manner, and then stormed out of the school when she tried to discipline you.”

She closed the fridge door and turned to face him. “Yeah, I know it's serious. You want to know what really happened?”

He nodded. “Of course I do.”

She took a deep breath. “Emma and the others tried to bully me. I fought back. I didn't hurt anyone, not really, but they went to Principal Blackwell. She decided that this was grounds to call Mr Barnes and Mr Clements in on it, and they were going to face me, eleven on one.” Her tone became very dry. “Of course, they couldn't reach you in time.”

Danny felt anger building inside of him. “And so you left … ?”

She shrugged. “If I stayed, they would have thrown their accusations at me, and I wouldn't have been able to face all of them down at once. She wouldn't make Mr Barnes and Mr Clements leave, and you weren't there, so I left. She threatened me with suspension if I just walked out, but I figured it was the better option than stay and fight a losing battle.”

“Christ,” Danny ground out. “The woman's gone too far.”

She put her hand on his arm. “Dad, we can deal with this. What we've got to do is work out a strategy that doesn't end in a big legal battle. Because if we go at them head to head, Mr Barnes will pull out the big guns to protect Emma. You know it, and I know it.”

His anger faded slightly as he looked at her, the calm demeanour, the collected posture. “You've been thinking about this.”

She nodded. “All day. Ever since I left school.” Turning back to the fridge, she opened it again, pulling out bread and butter and the packet of ham. “Now, all they can really get me on is leaving the school grounds without permission. That's barely a blip on the radar; I know of kids who haven't attended three days in five.” She began to butter a slice of bread.

“And the assault charges?”

She didn't look up, intent on her task. “No bruises, except maybe the girl who ended up on her ass. I didn't break Emma's finger, or Madison's wrist. Madison might have a mark on her wrist, but I doubt it. No doctor will find anything wrong with either one of them.”

Danny blinked. She was so casually discussing the aftermath of a fight against superior odds, from which she had emerged victorious. Taylor really has changed. “So you have a strategy in mind?”

This time, she looked up and grinned. “I thought you'd never ask.”

<><>​

I put down the soldering iron, clicked the goggles to clear view, and checked my work by eye. The outer carapace looked good; I got up and walked around it. Clicking the rim of the goggles again activated the magnification function – they had taken barely half an hour to put together, while I was taking a break from the main project – and I examined the joins minutely. Another click gave me thermal sensing; the carapace was cooling nicely, with no stress fracturing.

“Excellent.” I stretched; my back popped oddly. This gave me the clue as to how long I had been working in the same posture; I stretched again, more extravagantly, and more vertebrae clicked.

I had brought a cheap alarm clock in to my work room, and now I checked it. “Wow, that late?”

I had known it wasn't early; Alibi had already gotten home, had her discussion with Dad, eaten a sandwich and gone up to bed. I just hadn't realised it was that late.

Just as I usually did, Alibi had had a shower before going to bed, which I'd used as an opportunity to ensure that nothing needed adjusting on the chassis. But everything seemed to be working well; externally, she was identical to me to several decimal places.

Alibi didn't need to sleep, of course, but she could enter a shutdown mode which mimicked it fairly well. The sandwich she'd eaten would be converted to energy using a basic simulacrum of the human digestive system; she could also eat garbage or drink gasoline for energy, although the former would generate excess methane, and the latter would give her a very distinctive smell for quite some time afterward. Her internal systems had been optimised for normal, processed foods; that sandwich, reduced to its most basic molecules, could supply her with energy for several days if necessary.

I was pleased, although not totally surprised, that Dad had been fooled by her. After the dry run with Über and L33t, I had been confident that she could pass as me with reasonable certainty. And so it had happened; Alibi had talked with Dad, following the prompts I was giving her, while I continued working on my second major project.

I did feel a bit bad about pulling the wool over Dad's eyes like this, but I figured it was necessary; if he didn't know about Alibi, he couldn't accidentally give the secret away. And, for all intents and purposes, it was me in the driver's seat. I just had Alibi's brain handling all the routine stuff while I did the actual thinking.

“Maybe I'd better get some sleep after all,” I told myself. The basic chassis of the second project was complete. I knew what I needed to do next on it, but that would go well into the morning, and would require my full attention. And while Tinkers were (in)famous for working long hours to finish their projects, it wasn't as though I couldn't take my time on this.

After all, I didn't have to worry any more about splitting my time between work and school.

<><>​

Principal Blackwell's intercom beeped. She pressed the button. “Yes?”

“Taylor Hebert is here with her father to see you, ma'am.”

“What?”

“Taylor Hebert, ma'am. She's here to see you. Her father is with her.”

“Oh, uh, I'm busy. Tell them to make an appointment.”

She heard her secretary begin to say just that, until a masculine voice intruded. “It's about Sophia Hess.”

Sophia Hess. Shadow Stalker. The only member of the Wards to attend Winslow High. If Taylor's father knew something about her, then …

She pressed the intercom button again. “Show them in.”

The door opened, and Taylor entered, followed by her father. Carrie Blackwell tried to remember his name, but only managed to recall that it started with the letter D. They took seats without being invited; Taylor had her backpack over her shoulder.

Principal Blackwell checked that the door was closed and the intercom switched off before speaking; even then, she kept her voice low. “What do you know about Sophia Hess?”

“That she's Shadow Stalker, and that she and her friends bullied me for over a year without any of you doing a single damn thing about it,” Taylor told her, in an equally low, but rather intense, tone of voice.

“We didn't know -” began Blackwell.

“Then you're the most incompetent staff that I've ever seen at any school, ever,” snapped Hebert. As he spoke, Taylor opened her bag and pulled out a sheaf of papers.

“You will not speak to me in that fashion,” Carrie began, but was interrupted by Taylor slapping the thick sheaf down in front of her. “What's this?” she asked.

“A documentation of the last four months,” Taylor informed her. “Day by fucking day. Read that and tell me that you didn't see or hear of a single one of those incidents.”

Blackwell looked at it, then up at the two expectant faces. “I – you want me to read that now? It's rather thick - “

“Yes, it is, isn't it?” Danny – that was his name, Danny – agreed, leaning forward over the desk. “That's because there's a lot of it. A lot of incidents that happened to Taylor at this school.”

“Incidents which I documented,” Taylor continued. “Which will be verified by the police.”

Carrie Blackwell blinked. “The police? How will they verify it?”

Taylor grinned, or at least showed her teeth. “You may recall the incident on Monday. You will have been warned by the PRT to tell no-one about it.”

“I signed a non-disclosure agreement,” the principal confirmed.

Danny nodded. “Well, Alexandria paid us a visit just the other night. She informed us that Sophia will be going into custody and being prosecuted for her crimes against Taylor. They will be going through her phone, and finding out whatever else she has done. And I imagine that they will be passing on evidence of any other crimes, say, ones which Emma and Madison assisted in, to the police to deal with.”

Taylor tapped on the stack of paper. “And what do you want to bet that they'll find texts that match the incidents, down to the date, in this list?”

Carrie was barely listening. “You're trying to tell me that Alexandria paid you a visit?”

Taylor nodded. “This is one of the things you don't tell anyone, but yeah. She apologised for the way the PRT has been treating me, and promised that they'd leave me alone.”

The way she spoke convinced Blackwell most of all. There was no swagger, no boasting, no embellishment. She just stated it, straight out. And from what she'd heard of the actual fight, of the powers that Taylor had exhibited … she wasn't entirely ready to dismiss the story out of hand.

“Now, I could take this list straight to the media,” Danny suggested quietly, “but do you really want that?”

He didn't have to explain how badly that could go for her, once the news got hold of that list. Interviews of students and teachers, all of them anxious for their five minutes of fame.

“The staff wouldn't talk,” she protested weakly, knowing even as she said it how wrong she was.

Danny snorted. “Talk? They'll be competing to see who can be first to throw you under the bus. You're the one who knew about it and condoned it; they all could see what was happening, and were powerless to stop it because of orders from above, and so on, and so forth. You go, one of them gets the top spot. Want to take bets on who it'll be?”

Blackwell slumped back into her chair. They had her over a barrel, well and truly. “What is it that you want?” she asked; it was almost a whisper.

“Revoke the suspension,” Taylor stated flatly. “I didn't assault those girls, and you know it. I just want to go to school.”

“But the assault complaint is down in the record now,” Blackwell protested.

Taylor rolled her eyes. “Fine. Give me detention for a couple of days. I won't attend, but you can say I did.”

Carrie grimaced. “You're undermining my authority here -” she began, but Danny was shaking his head.

“We haven't even started,” he warned her. “Give Taylor her detention. And from here on in, she gets the same treatment everyone else does. Or I start looking at the list.”

Blackwell thought of protesting that everyone in the school was treated equally, but decided not to. For one thing, it would be a blatant lie, and she knew it. So too, she figured, did Taylor.

Besides, the price she was having to pay was amazingly light; to allow Taylor Hebert to attend school? It wasn't even blackmail, not really.

Which did raise an ugly possibility. “If you try to blackmail me -” she began.

Danny shook his head. “Didn't even cross our minds,” he assured her. “Doing this the legal way is much easier. Just let Taylor go to school, and make sure she isn't harassed, and we're good.”

Make sure she isn't harassed. The phrase hung in the air. Blackwell finally felt the jaws of the trap closing on her. If the thickness of that list was anything to go by, Taylor had been harassed every single day she had been at Winslow. Every. Day.

If that list was not to go to the media, and the inability of the school to prevent the bullying of one teenage girl was not to come to light, then she would actually have to make an effort to ensure that every teacher specifically watched out for Taylor's well-being.

Again, father and daughter were observing her expectantly. She stared back at them, feeling that she was slowly sinking into a bog, with no bottom in sight.

“Fine.” She forced the word out. “You have a deal.”

Danny smiled widely; the expression looked genuine. “Great.”

Taylor got to her feet, and slipped the sheaf of papers back into her bag. She looked Blackwell in the eye. “Why couldn't you have done this a year ago?”

Before the principal could formulate a reply, she had opened the door to the outer office, and was gone.

Danny paused, and looked over his shoulder as he followed his daughter. “Just make sure. No harassment. None.” His voice was flat and hard.

The door closed behind him. Blackwell turned to her intercom and pressed the buttons that gave her access to the school PA system.

“This is Principal Blackwell speaking. All year ten teaching staff will report immediately, repeat immediately, to my office.”

Switching off the microphone, she took a deep breath, and then another. This was not going to be fun.

<><>​

I grinned as I finished calibrating the Manton field generator. That had been kinda fun, even at second hand. Controlling Alibi was becoming less and less strange to me; to be honest, I rather got a kick out of it. It was like I could think on two different wavelengths or more at once, and Alibi got one of those wavelengths and I was already on another. I didn't switch between one and the other; I didn't even juggle them. I just … used them both. At the same time. It was seriously awesome.

As Alibi said her goodbyes to Dad, I started in on the holocloak device. It was an important aspect to the project, and I wanted to make sure it worked the way I wanted it to.

Über knocked on the doorframe, then stuck his head into my workroom. “Hey, Hax,” he greeted me. “You're up early. Or did you not go to sleep?”

I glanced over my shoulder at him. “I acquired some meditation techniques using your power, and spent some time doing that,” I explained. “Also, I did get some sleep.” The camp bed in the corner wasn't the most comfortable, but it had the advantage of being close to my work.

“Christ, from the stuff you've gotten done, not much sleep,” he commented. “Can I come in?”

I nodded. “Sure. I needed to take a break anyway. One more thing to do, and then I can finish off my last project.”

He strolled on into the room, and observed my second project.

“Is that what I think it is?” he asked rhetorically.

I answered him anyway. “Sure. It's a Tinker thing.”

He frowned. “But it's not very thematic. It's very … generic. You won't be able to use it on most of our jobs.”

I grinned. “I thought of that.”

I didn't elaborate; after a moment, he raised an eyebrow. “You're not going to tell me what you're doing, are you?”

My grin widened, and I shook my head.

He sighed. “If your powers weren't so goddamn hax, I'd be so pissed off at you right now. Anyway, L33t was going to get something to eat. What would you like?”

Automatically, I reached for my purse. “Not sure how much money I've got -”

Chuckling, he waved me off. “No need. That heist the other night, if we sell even ten percent of what we got, just the generic stuff, we're gonna have dollars to spare. You earned your keep that night, keeping Aegis and Vista off our backs. Plus, getting into the vault. And getting us out of there.”

“Sure,” I told him. Grabbing my notepad and turning to a blank page, I started writing. “Gonna need a few things. We're lacking stuff around here, so we may as well make this a shopping trip.”

When I handed him the page, he blinked at it. “Holy crap, is your order on here at all?”

I rolled my eyes, and took the page back. Turning it over, I scribbled my fast-food order. “Seriously, we need to pay more attention to nutrition. Bring me ingredients and I'll cook. Or you can. Because you can't tell me that you don't know how to cook.”

Über shrugged. “Two guys. What can I say?”

I rolled my eyes again. If I was going to be working with these guys, there were going to be some changes around here.

<><>​

Blackwell looked at all the teachers assembled in her office.

“What's this about?” asked Gladly. “I've got a lesson plan -”

“Shut up,” she told him harshly, then addressed the group. “Who here knows the girl called Taylor Hebert?”

Mrs Knott cleared her throat. “I know her. She's in my home room class.”

The rest of them stared at Carrie; she stared back. “Taylor Hebert. Tall, long curly brown hair, glasses.” She held up a photo. “This girl, for crying out loud.”

Gladly also stepped forward. “Yeah, I remember her now.”

A few more teachers stepped forward; the rest hung back. Blackwell eyed the latter. “Are you absolutely certain that you don't teach any classes that she's in?”

A murmur of voices assured her that no, they didn't know her. Her lips tightened. “Fine. What I'm about to tell you stays in this office. You tell no-one. No-one at all. Not any students, not any teachers, not any parents. Is that perfectly understood?”

The teachers looked at one another, then at her. “Uh, why not?” asked Gladly.

Blackwell gritted her teeth. “Because I told you,” she snapped. “Okay, now, it's really simple. You know her face now. If you see her being harassed in any way, you stop it. Stop it dead. You don't let anyone tease her, bully her, push her around, call her names, anything. At all. Full stop.”

She took a deep breath and spoke slowly, carefully. “It doesn't matter who the other person is. Who their father is, or their mother. If they are harassing Taylor Hebert in any way, then you pull them up as hard as you need to.” She met their eyes, one at a time. “If I find that you've been falling down on the job, then you won't have your job here for much longer.” She paused. “Is there anyone here who does not understand what I've just told you?”

That idiot Gladly raised his hand slightly. “I, uh, understand,” he told her hastily. “But what I don't get is why? What's so special about her?”

Blackwell eyed him sourly. “She's a student at Winslow. She's being bullied. Do not allow this. Do you need a better reason?”

“But -” he began, then she cut him off.

“Mr Gladly,” she growled, holding thumb and forefinger very close together, “I am this close to reviewing your employment here, and finding a replacement who can follow directives. Do not push me.”

“I, uh, yes, ma'am,” he stammered, face turning red.

“Good,” she told him shortly. “Now all of you, get out of my office.”

When the door closed behind the last of them, she slumped back into her chair. Oh god, I hope that's enough.

<><>​

L33t complained loudly as he staggered into the base, carrying the laden shopping bags. “These are killing my hands. Couldn't someone have come along to help?”

“You said you wanted to go on your own, bro,” Über reminded him. “I did show you her list before you went.”

L33t turned to me. “Well, fuck. What's with all this shit, anyway? Gonna use it for chemical Tinker work? Because I don't think my powers work that way.”

I snorted. “Nope. But I figure that Über's power could give me the skills to make bombs from this stuff anyway.” I looked from one to the other. “No, we need to do some cleaning around here.”

L33t frowned. “We keep it clean!”

“Clean-ish,” I corrected him. “You'll see the difference. That's why I got you to get cleaning products. Plus, a new shower curtain. The old one has so much mould on it that I don't even like to touch it. Also, that lock? It's for the bathroom door. That one's kind of important.”

“We're not going to burst in on you when you're in the shower,” protested Über.

I shook my head. “No, but it's my privacy, you know? We're going to need a separate trash can in the bathroom, too.”

“What for?” demanded L33t. “Isn't the one we've already got good enough for you?”

I smiled, very slightly. “Ask me again in a month's time.”

Über got it first. He grabbed L33t's shoulder. “Dude. Do not argue.” L33t opened his mouth anyway; Über leaned close and whispered in his ear.

L33t stared at me with a horrified look on his face. “What, you - ?”

I nodded, once. “Yes. Do I get my trash can?”

Über spoke for him. “You get your trash can.”

I smiled again. “Thank you. And just to prove that having me here isn't going to be all pushy demands and dreaded feminine secrets, tonight I'll make you both my mother's famous lasagne dish. And hell, I'll even game with you, if you want.”

L33t's eyes lit up. “You play video games too?”

My smile grew to a grin. “Nope, but by tonight I will be.” I pointed at the supplies he had bought. “Breakfast first. Then we need to do some stuff around here.”

<><>​

Things got a little domestic after that. I cleaned the stove and started making the lasagne, while Über installed the lock on the bathroom door, and L33t (not without some grumbling) started cleaning around the place. Once the lasagne was in, I went into the bathroom; Über had replaced the curtain, and the lock was in place.

“Excellent,” I told him, and set about cleaning the shower cubicle. It obviously hadn't been scrubbed in some time, and I was tempted to Tinker up something to do just that, but doing it the hard way was kind of soothing. In the meantime, I tapped into Über's power, and learned how to play video games.

By the time I had the cubicle sparkling, the cleaning outside had been done, and the pair were settling down to some quality video gaming. I checked on the lasagne, which was doing well, then wandered over to watch them.

“Grab a controller and join in,” Über invited, waving at an empty stretch of sofa. “We need a sniper.”

“In a bit,” I excused myself. “I really need to get the project done.”

“You can do that later,” he told me. “Right now, we're gaming.”

“Sooner I finish it, sooner I can get out there and strut my stuff as Hax,” I reminded him.

“Half an hour,” L33t urged. “I'm not in there Tinkering. You don't have to either.”

I grinned and plumped down on the sofa. “Right,” I agreed, grabbing the controller. “Which screen's mine?”

With my pre-installed skills, it didn't take long for me to set up my account in the system, and then we started play. I found I liked being a sniper, using an electronic gun to shoot electronic enemies in the head before they even saw me. Über and L33t were into it too, praising each other – and me – for particularly awesome kills.

It was fun.

<><>​

Mr Gladly had glanced at me/her when he entered the World Affairs classroom, and every now and again he glanced again, as if he was not quite sure if he wanted me/her there. I/she was fairly sure what the topic of conversation had been when Blackwell had called the grade ten teachers in to her office. It just remained to be seen if her instructions had been stringent enough.

He had put us together in groups; I/she had Sparky and Greg, as well as Kaia, one of Madison's friends. “What I want you to do today,” he told us, “is to take a single cape and determine the impact he or she has had on the world since getting powers. Now, Scion is out, but the Triumvirate are fair game. However, I don't want everyone talking about just them. So each group has to pick two capes; if you clash with someone else, you have to go with your secondary.”

Sparky already seemed to be asleep; Greg was enthusiastic, but I/she wasn't wild about his choices. Kaia ignored the whole process, choosing to talk instead to Madison, who was in the next group over. In the end, I/she allowed Greg to choose Lung as our primary, but insisted on Dragon as a secondary; as a Tinker (at the moment) I/she had a certain interest in her career.

Of course, Kaia objected to our choices as soon as we presented them to her. “Why didn't you ask me?” she demanded. “You should have asked me.”

“You were talking,” I/she reminded her. “We did ask you. You ignored us.”

She raised her hand. “Mr G,” she complained. “My group won't listen to what I say. Can I join Madison's group?”

Mr Gladly looked over at us. “Kaia was talking to Madison,” I/she told him. “We chose Lung and Dragon. Are either of those taken?”

“No!” Kaia insisted. “I didn't get to choose! What if I wanted someone else?”

Her raised voice had gotten attention across the classroom; everyone had turned to look. Mr Gladly looked at me/her, then at Kaia. “Ms Hendricks, your group has made a choice. You should have participated,” he informed her curtly. “And no, you can't join Madison's group.”

“But, Mr G -”

“I said no,” he retorted, then looked at us. “Lung has already been taken, but Dragon is free.”

“But we were going to take Dragon!” shouted Madison from her group. “It's not fair! We chose her first!”

Again, Mr Gladly glanced at me/her; he seemed to grimace. Looking back at Madison, he shook his head. “They asked me before you did. They get Dragon. What's your secondary?”

“Legend,” she told him sulkily.

“Taken, sorry,” he informed her. “Pick another couple of capes.”

“But we picked Dragon first,” she whined. “Why do they get to pick first?”

“You have thirty seconds to pick, or I send you to Principal Blackwell's office for being obstructive in class,” he told her sternly.

Her mouth dropped open, and she stared at him. “Mr G -”

“Twenty-five seconds.”

I/she stopped paying attention, and turned to Greg and Kaia. Both seemed to be watching the drama; Greg avidly, Kaia with a certain amount of shock. Never had Mr Gladly brought the boom down on Madison so thoroughly.

“Guys?” I/she murmured. “Dragon. Ideas on what she's done to change the world?”

In the end, I/she wrote most of the joint project my/herself; Kaia spent the remainder of the class commiserating with Madison about being stuck with Miss Militia, and Greg's 'information' about Dragon seemed to be mainly half-baked theories about her powers, capabilities and general situation. Stuff which, I/she had no doubt, he had trawled off some of the more dubious threads in the PHO boards. Seriously, Dragon an AI? Who did he think he was kidding?

When we stood up and read out our presentations, Madison gave me/her dirty looks all the way through. With Greg's dubious assistance, I/she had managed to put together something reasonably complete; Madison and her group had assembled a list of supervillains whom Miss Militia had shot. She had wanted Dragon, that was for sure. Unfortunately for her, Mr Gladly had upheld my/her choice over Madison's.

I/she didn't relax, but there was a faint smile on my/her face when the bell rang for lunch. It appeared that Blackwell was holding up her end of the bargain. So far, anyway.

<><>​

Video gaming over, I checked on the lasagne again – it was fine, but I turned it down a little, so it could spend all afternoon baking properly – and went back to my work-room. I'd kept the light-spot on Über during the game session, so that I could properly hone my skills, but now I put it back on L33t. I 'saw' the spot moving toward the bathroom; a moment later, he hurried back over toward where I had last seen Über.

“Dude,” I heard him faintly say, “I never knew the shower cubicle was that colour.”

Grinning, I got back to work.

<><>​

Danny looked up when Taylor strolled in through the front door and into the living room.

“You're back kind of early,” he noted.

“School's out,” she reminded him.

He cleared his throat. “But your … uh … after school job?” he insinuated delicately.

She grinned. “Oh, I've got that taken care of.”

He blinked. “Taken care of, as in … ?”

“As in, taken care of,” she repeated. “Not to be worried about.”

“Oh,” he replied dubiously. “If you're sure.”

“Sure I'm sure,” she told him with a grin. “So, what's for dinner?”

“Lasagne,” he told her, and wondered why she started giggling.

<><>​

“Holy crap, this is awesome!”

I tasted the lasagne; it was about the best I'd ever managed. Between Mom's recipe and Über's power to pick up cooking skills, I had nailed it exactly. However, L33t's startled exclamation still caused both myself and Über to grin at him.

“It is pretty good,” Über commented. “Can we have this again, sometime?”

I nodded. “Sure,” I agreed. “It's not that hard to make. I can give you the recipe, if you want.”

Something seemed to occur to L33t. “Dude,” he accused Über. “You can cook, or at least you can learn how to cook. Why don't you ever cook like this?”

Über shrugged. “I, uh, never felt like it?”

I stuck my fork through another slice of lasagne. “I have other recipes, too. Spaghetti carbonara, for instance.”

L33t looked at me pleadingly. “Is it as good as this?”

It was my turn to shrug. “Dad seems to like it.”

Über grinned and elbowed him. “And you complained about carrying the ingredients back.”

L33t studied the forkful that he'd been just about to put in his mouth. “This came from what I bought today?”

I nodded. “Sure. I can show you how too, if you want?”

He blinked. “Uh, no, I'm good. But I'm never complaining about shopping ever again. This is awesome.”

Über smirked. “And you were bitching so hard about having a pushy girl on the team.”

L33t waved another forkful of lasagne; the previous one had gone the way of all food. “A pushy girl – meh. A pushy girl who games and cooks? I'm good with that.”

For some reason, Über and I found that hilarious.

<><>​

“So, the PRT is interested in Taylor Hebert, but is not actively surveilling her,” Coil mused. “Of course, hitting the house would be too obvious. Likewise, the school.”

He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin. The various possibilities turned over in his mind.

There was a note in the file indicating suspicion that she had linked up with one of the lesser-known criminal gangs; the main suspicion was toward Über and L33t. But she wasn't with them now, and nor had she been there over the last twenty-four hours. It was possible, even probable, that she had decided to sheer away from the life of a supervillain, especially after the close call with the PRT.

All the better for me, he decided. When she disappears, they'll think she tried to join up with another villain gang, and it went bad.

That she would disappear, he had no doubt. What Coil wanted, Coil got. Whatever it took to get it.

<><>​

With a sigh of relief, I snapped the cover shut on my third project, and hit the self-test button. It hummed, and LEDs flickered on and off. Moments later, it shut itself down again; one green LED shone brightly, to show that the self-test had been successful.

I clicked the goggles back to ordinary vision, and stretched. My back popped again, and I felt my neck crack. Glancing at the clock, I blinked. Where did the time go?

Immediately, an idea flitted into my head for a device that compressed time in an area, so I could get hours of work (or sleep) done in minutes. It was intriguing, but I didn't have the time, or equipment, to build it right at that moment. So I jotted down a note to myself before I could forget about it.

Leaning out the workroom door, I noted that Über was playing a solo game. L33t, I gathered from the location of the light-spot, was in his workshop, no doubt Tinkering.

“Hey,” I called to Über. “I've finished. Want me to demonstrate?”

He looked up. “Sure. Just let me save this level and get L33t.”

“Okay,” I replied. “I'll put it on while I'm waiting.”

Putting it on was relatively easy; I had bracelets attached to my wrists and ankles, with RFID chips in them. Another resided in the goggles I was still wearing. I backed up to the suit, clicked the lens frame, and spoke the activation phrase.

Which, as it happened, was “Armsmaster is a dick.”

The armour responded, opening like a flower. It flowed forward, clamping around my wrists and ankles. One by one, it lifted my feet, and formed around them. I felt it wrapping itself around my body, folding around my head. It was like being hugged, all over, by something that really, really liked me. A lot.

When it came to rest, fully enclosing my body, a good forty seconds had passed. I had ideas for speeding the process up, but I didn't want to endanger myself in the process; getting a sprained wrist or a broken ankle was all too possible if I ignored safeguards. I had seen that Earth Aleph movie about the fictional superhero called Iron Man. Armour pieces flying into place? I shuddered. That could go very bad, very quickly.

With the armour in place, it made the connection with my goggles, and the HUD lit up. With pupil movements, I cued up a full diagnostic; this scrolled past at a speed just slow enough for me to speed-read it (Über again). Everything seemed to be in order, save a few minor glitches, which I could easily deal with later.

As I took my first few experimental steps in the armour, Über and L33t appeared at the doorway to my workroom.

“Holy shit,” L33t exclaimed. “You fucking built power armour. I am officially jealous.”

Über frowned. “I still say it looks generic. And are you taller?”

I nodded. “Lifts in the boots.” They both looked a little startled; the voice which they heard had been adjusted to be a little lower and more musical. More adult, even.

“I heard that,” Über noted. “Make it harder to pinpoint who you really are.”

I grinned, but with my face covered (save for the goggles) he of course could not see me. “As the old saying goes, you ain't seen nothin' yet.”

Again I accessed the HUD. “Now, I know this is a limited selection, but I'm sure we can come up with more,” I commented as I made my choice. Nothing happened at first, then a gridwork appeared over the armour. Following that, the gridwork filled in, and colour was added. Then texture, and highlights.

L33t's jaw dropped, followed by Über's.

“Holy shit,” L33t marvelled. “Master Chief armour. Holy shit.”

“How are you doing that?” Über wanted to know.

“Holocloak, duh,” L33t informed him. “What else can you do?”

I cycled through a couple more variations of Halo armour, then on to other types.

“Like I said,” I told them as I went back to the Master Chief armour, “I don't have many types yet. But I can add more.”

“God damn,” Über told me sincerely. “I am impressed.”

I cleared my throat. “Not done yet.”

“Yeah?” asked L33t.

“Yeah,” I confirmed. Turning, I headed for the worktable where I had left the third project. Moving in the armour became easier and easier the more I did it; after all, I had programmed it to adjust to my movements. Pretty soon, I wouldn't even notice that I was wearing it.

Hefting the oversized rifle, I went back to Über and L33t. “I wanted to use the holocloak to change the look of this too,” I told them, “but not even my hax powers let me bend the rules like that. So I went with a physical cheat.” Linking the rifle into my HUD, I activated its change mode; panels moved and shifted, components slid around, and the rifle reshaped in my hands. In moments, it had emulated several of the bulkier hand-held weapons in popular video games.

“So does it fire different shots when it changes shape?” Über wanted to know.

“Uh, no,” I confessed. “It only does one thing.”

“What's that?” L33t wanted to know.

“It stuns things,” I told him.

There was a moment of silence, as they looked at the rifle – big enough to be a reasonable match for me in size and weight, were I out of the armour – and then back at me.

“Just stun?” asked L33t. “At that size?”

Implicit in his statement was the meaning that if he built a longarm that big, it would do one hell of a lot more than 'stun' its target. And to be honest, he was right; it did look dangerous enough to blow a hole through a skyscraper.

I shook my head. “You don't get it. This gun is built to stun anyone.”

Über stared at me. “Anyone?”

I nodded. “Any. One. Point this, fire it. If it hits, it will stun them. First micro-second of the beam is actually a carrier wave; it analyses how much effect the beam is having, and sends a message back to the gun, which then ramps it up to the necessary intensity. But even if an unintended target gets hit by accident, the most that will happen is they spend an hour or so in dreamland. One hundred per cent nonlethal.”

Über blinked. “Robots? People in power armour?”

I'd thought about that. “Non-damaging EMP.”

“Alexandria?”

I shrugged. “Maybe ten seconds.”

L33t was looking slightly stunned himself. I figured he was retro-engineering it in his head.

“An Endbringer?” asked Über.

“Maybe about one second,” I hazarded. “But I'd need to connect up an extension cord. To a nuclear reactor. And the gun would explode.”

L33t shook his head. “Yeah, no,” he agreed. “But anything short of an Endbringer … wow.”

Über grinned, and slapped me on the back. “We,” he declared, “are gonna fuckin' rock.”


End of Part Thirteen

Part Fourteen

 

A little crack omake for shits and giggles, crossposted from SB:


Three Shards Walk into A Bar ...

All was quiet in the Shard Bar. The Ward and Protectorate shards were on one side of the room, making faces at the ABB and E88 shards on the other. The Merchant shards were sitting in the corner, quietly getting stoned. The Coil shard sat at the bar, sipping its drink, covertly watching everyone.

And then the Hax shard walked in, with the Uber shard on one arm, and the L33t shard on the other.

"Holy shit," muttered the Aegis shard. "That's Hax! Did I tell you about the beatdown I got from her? She really knows how to use my powers!"

"Hell yes," the Vista shard agreed enthusiastically. "She used your powers to beat me up, after using my powers to sneak up on me! That's seriously hardcore!"

"Hey," called out the Shadow Stalker shard, "don't forget about me. I'm the one who triggered her, after all. And got beat down with my own powers, before all you jerks."

"Shut up, you're in jail," the Clockblocker shard retorted, getting off its stool.

"Hey, where you going?" asked the Kid Win shard.

"I want to get her autograph, and maybe some tips on using my powers, like she gave you, and Miss Militia," the Clockblocker shard replied.

The Kid Win shard rolled its eyes. "She's never been the same since. Every time we mention Hax around her, she just smiles dreamily and murmurs something about 'asymmetric dual wielding'."

The trio approached the bar. "So, what would you like to drink?" asked the Uber shard. "It's on me."

"No, no," the L33t shard insisted. "It's on me. I'm good for it. A rockin' body double, a set of power armour, and a one-size-fits-all stun rifle. I haven't had so much fun since forever."

The Hax shard leaned on the bar with its elbows and grinned. "I'll just have water for the moment," it decided. "After all, I want to meet everyone here tonight."

"But you will be coming home with us?" begged the Uber shard.

"Please?" added the L33t shard.

The Hax shard smiled. "Of course. But you don't mind if I see other shards occasionally, do you?"

"Of course not," the Uber shard declared.

"It's too much fun to watch," the L33t shard agreed.

In a dim corner of the bar, the Jack Slash shard nursed its drink and watched the byplay.

Meh, it thought. I can take her.

 

Trump Card

Part Fourteen: The Great Armoured Car Robbery


"You know, everything I said about you not being like a normal Tinker? I take it back. You're exactly like a normal Tinker."

I turned from where I was working on the armour and clicked the goggles back to standard mag. Über was leaning against the doorframe, arms folded, wearing an expression composed partly of exasperation and partly amusement.

"Uh ... what do you mean?" I hedged, although I had a very good idea of what he meant.

"I mean," he told me, with more than a hint of sarcasm in his voice, "that L33t's doing precisely what you are; he's putting last-minute touches to his gear, when there's less than five minutes before we have to leave."

"It was important," I told him defensively. "I had to build my cape detector into my work goggles," tapping the slightly-more-ornate goggles that now adorned my face, "and I'm almost done here."

"In the van in three minutes?" Über pressed.

"Three minutes," I promised.

<><>​

In point of fact, it took me just over ninety seconds to rewire the final adjustment to the Manton field generator. I snapped the cover closed on the armour's front (the generator took up the space that would have been occupied by my bust, if I had a bust) and used the HUD built into my goggles to tell it to lock into place.

I was still wearing the RFID bracelets, so I backed up to the armour and clicked the rim of the lens of my goggles. "Armsmaster," I stated out loud, "is a dick."

Upon receiving the code phrase in my voice, the armour opened up and wrapped around me, clothes and all. I still hadn't reduced the armour-up time, but then, nor would I even try until I had the time to get down and do some serious tinkering. Metal wrapping around a fragile human body at speed had all sorts of opportunities to do serious damage if there weren't sufficient safeguards in place.

Once it was in place, the armour integrated itself with the goggles, switching from short-range radio link to direct hard-wired control; as it did so, the HUD began spilling the suit diagnostics down over my field of view. I paid attention with half my mind, while turning to scoop up the stun rifle and sling it over my shoulder.

Über was in the driver's seat of the van when I emerged from my work room; L33t was just hurrying toward the vehicle from his own workspace. I quickened my pace a little; we got there at the same time. I looked his outfit over critically.

"Not bad," I noted. "I like the badge."

"Yeah, me too," he agreed. "I've always wanted a chance to wear this costume."

"Can we hold the mutual admiration society once we're on the way?" called Über from inside the van. "Time's a-ticking!"

"Coming, Mom," I retorted, and climbed into the back of the van, closing the sliding door behind me. Carefully, I laid the stun rifle down in front of me before strapping in. L33t snickered like a schoolboy as he climbed into the front seat.

“Children,” muttered Über; he started the van and we got out of there.

<><>​

The Brockton Bay Central Bank took a cash delivery on the second Thursday of each month, just before the lunchtime rush. Über and L33t had timed it before, but had never been certain they could take it on, especially given that an unknown cape would be riding with the shipment. However, in me, as L33t put it, they had the perfect cheat code.

We would, of course, be going with a video game theme. To that end, Über and L33t were already costumed up, and I needed only to activate my holocloak.

“So, Hax, you good to do this?” asked Über as he drove. L33t didn't comment; he had their little spherical hovering camera in his hands, programming in last-minute instructions.

“Well, if I'm not, it's a bit late to say so now, right?” I replied, trying to sound light-hearted.

To be honest, the question was not altogether unwarranted. I did have doubts assailing me, as well as worries. The butterflies in my stomach were attaining the proportions of B-52 bombers. But I couldn't let them see that.

This wasn't even my first crime. But it was my first one in public, in costume (of sorts). This was the one that would put Hax out there as a name, allied with Über and L33t, once and for all. What I did today, what I did over the next hour, would change my life, one way or the other.

In a very real way, I needed to succeed at this. I needed to make the team look awesome. Because the more respect that the guys and I got out of this heist, the less chance that someone would try to force me to join their gang.

Über and L33t might be criminals. They had certainly made a few questionable choices while playing out their video game crimes. But they had also accepted me into their group (albeit reluctantly, on L33t's part). Once I had proven myself, they had no farther reservations; after the robbery of the North Side Storage Facility, they had begun to truly appreciate what I could bring to the team. And I appreciated their giving me a place to be.

“So, your gear all up to spec?” asked L33t.

“Is now,” I told him. “I rewired the cape detector into my goggles, so I can use it in the armour. Figured out an alternate mode for the Manton field generator; when I activate it, it makes the armour surface selectively frictionless.”

“So what – oh, containment foam?”

“Containment foam,” I agreed. “Not saying that we'll run into any, but I want to be prepared first, you know?”

L33t nodded. “You're really getting full use out of my powers, aren't you?” he observed.

“Our powers, bro,” Über pointed out cheerfully. “She didn't get to be a kickass video gamer using Tinker powers.”

Or as good a cook as I am now, I added silently. The carbonara I had made last night had been praised to the heavens by one and all. L33t was now officially addicted to my cooking.

“The ability to learn any skill didn't help her put together that armour,” L33t shot back.

I grinned as I sat back to enjoy the ride. In the front seat, Über and L33t bickered good-naturedly about which of their respective powersets I was making the best use of; to be honest, I would have been hard put to figure it out for myself.

<><>​

Über slowed down on the site of the ambush, and turned the van down an alleyway. We had previously scouted the alley to ensure that it was possible to drive out the other side. Opening the doors, we got out; the alley was so narrow that it was only just possible to do so. I sidled up alongside the van until we were all standing at the rear of the vehicle, just a little way in from the street.

“Time?” L33t asked.

Über checked his watch. “Between two and five minutes. Time to costume up.” He and L33t fitted their helmets, which turned them instantly anonymous and actually looked kind of cool. For my part, I called up the HUD and activated the chosen holocloak.

The gridwork ran over the surface of the armour, followed by the holographic overlay. Where possible, it followed the actual contours of the suit, but stood out where necessary. When it was complete, I appeared to be wearing a red and black helmet not unlike those that Über and L33t had procured. Dark-coloured uniforms, holstered sidearms, heavy boots and gloves. The final touch was the solid metal badges, with the chains attaching to the uniforms themselves. My badge was, of course, holographic, whereas Über and L33t sported real ones. My sidearm was real; in point of fact, it was my taser pistol. I'd spent a little time building it into a casing to make it look like more authentic, but it still fired the same electrical charge.

“How do I look?” I asked; I could not, of course, view my own holocloak. The HUD said that it was running fine, but I preferred to get a second opinion.

Über tilted his head. “Pretty good,” he noted. “You even programmed the face to move when you spoke?”

“Sensors in the helmet,” I explained. “They can tell exactly what my face is doing, so the holocloak can mimic it outside the helmet.”

“I like it,” L33t commented. “You look all kinds of dangerous, even without considering that damn great stun rifle. This was a good choice.”

I grinned; going as Judge Dredd style characters had been my idea. There had been a Judge Dredd video game, so the 'gaming theme' concept was solid. The guys had expressed uncertainty, given that Judges were supposed to be the good guys, but I had explained my idea further, and they had come around to my point of view. Visually spectacular, it was definitely going to be. And visually spectacular – along with insanely profitable – was what we were after.

“Activating camera now,” L33t told us. He pressed a button on a remote, and the device woke up and hummed into the air. It hovered, moving from side to side, getting a good camera angle on all of us. I turned my head toward it. “Move along, citizens,” I intoned sternly. “Nothing to see here. Justice Department business.”

Out of view of the camera, L33t gave me a discreet thumbs-up; he fiddled with the remote, and the camera swung around to view each badge in turn. They had our code names on them, of course; I devoutly hoped that the holocloak would not be disrupted during the robbery.

“It's coming,” Über warned us. “Go time.”

I walked on to the road, raising the stun rifle as I went.

<><>​

“What the hell's going on with Hebert?”

Emma's face was a study in baffled fury; three times, she had set up ideal situations to cut Taylor out of the herd, and three times, a teacher had hung around for just too long, allowing the prospective victim to escape to her next class. It was as if the universe was conspiring to prevent her from carrying out her carefully laid plans; that, or the teachers of Winslow.

“Mr G pulled me up when I tried to get him to let my group use Dragon instead of Hebert, in World Affairs, on Tuesday,” Madison offered. “All the year ten teachers were called into Blackwell's office Tuesday morning. Maybe she complained to someone?”

“What I want to know,” snapped Emma, “is why she's even back, after what happened on Monday. I heard Blackwell tell her she was suspended, just before she ran away.”

Julia shrugged. “Maybe her father got to Blackwell?”

“With what?” asked Emma. “A lawsuit? Anything going through the legal system, she would have called on my dad, and I'd know about it.”

“Someone said they saw Taylor and her dad come in on Tuesday morning,” offered Kaia. “Dunno what he said to her though. Must've been pretty strong, if she told the teachers to protect Taylor.”

Emma snorted. “Protecting Hebert? As if. She probably just told them to watch all the students.”

“I'm getting worried about Sophia,” Madison stated, changing the subject. “She hasn't been in since Monday. You think something's happened to her?”

Emma was silent. The group she was with had all been witnesses to the altercation on the Monday before last, and knew that Sophia was Shadow Stalker. However, they had also been warned in very definite terms to not say a single word about it to anything.

By the same token, they knew that Taylor had powers as well, but they had been warned – if anything, even more strenuously – to not reveal that to anyone. That hadn't stopped Emma from trying to force Taylor to use powers against them, so that they could report her, of course. And when Taylor had attacked them physically – which was how Emma saw in her own mind what had happened – Principal Blackwell had been perfectly justified in suspending her.

So why was she back? And perhaps more worryingly, where was Sophia? She hadn't answered her phone on Monday, or any time thereafter, when Emma tried to call her. The comments on the PHO boards supplied an answer; Alexandria had visited, and had spoken to Sophia, on Sunday night. Shadow Stalker was said to be 'retiring'; Emma didn't believe that for a moment.

Had Taylor done something, said something, to get Sophia in trouble with the PRT? Was it the PRT who had told Blackwell that Taylor was off limits?

“Hey, Emma, how's it going?”

She spun around; Taylor had already passed her by, and was striding away, long legs eating up the distance along the corridor. Emma would have gone after her, but there was a janitor mopping the corridor nearby; she was smart enough to not discount any potential witnesses.

The bell rang; Taylor joined a group of other students, disappearing into a classroom.

Emma ground her teeth.

What the hell is going on?

<><>​

The armoured truck bore down upon me as I stood in the centre of the lane. I held out my hand, palm out. “Stop!” I shouted. “In the name of the Law!”

The truck, of course, did not stop. It began indicating, moving over to the adjacent lane. I brought the stun rifle down from port arms, lining it up on the grille of the truck as it neared me. The HUD took over; it outlined the entire shape of the truck for me, and I took up first pressure on the trigger. When the shape went from red to green, I completed the trigger-pull.

ZORCH.

The stun rifle jolted slightly against my shoulder. From the business end, a beam of actinic violet light shot out, smashing into the front of the oncoming vehicle. Purple lightning played over the outer skin of the truck, and the engine immediately died. It jolted to a stop, as it was still in gear; it would be a minute or so before it could be restarted.

Changing modes on the HUD, I activated the cape detector; I didn't want any surprise party-crashers. One in the truck, and Über and L33t in the alley. Right. So far, so good.

I strode toward the armoured truck. Über and L33t emerged from the alleyway and converged on the truck as well. In the cab, we could see, there were two guards. No doubt they were trying to use their radio; equally certainly, there would be no joy there for them. Phones, however, might be a different matter.

When I got within ten yards of the truck, I sent my light-spot questing ahead. Sure enough, there was a parahuman presence inside the truck. I let the spot rest there, and absorbed the information as it flowed to me.

“Brute,” I murmured over the earpiece radio inside my helmet. “Gets stronger and tougher the longer he sits still. He's been sitting still for a while now.”

“Well, shit,” L33t replied, just as quietly. “Good thing we've got you along. How are you going to play it?”

“I'll let him stay there for a moment,” I responded. Approaching the driver's side door of the truck, I rapped on the window. “Open up, please, sir,” I stated loudly for the camera. “We have reason to believe that you are transporting counterfeit money.”

Which was part of the script, allowing 'Judges' to confiscate the contents of the truck without breaking character.

Not altogether to my surprise, the driver did not open the door; instead, I saw him talking on the phone, while his offsider racked the slide on a pump action shotgun.

Yeah, good luck with that.

With a sigh, I took hold of the driver's side door. The cape employed by the bank was fairly strong and tough, even if he hadn't had the chance to sit still for a while. My suit added a significant bit to that, so when I heaved on the door, the lock gave way with a metallic crack.

The driver dropped his phone and went for his pistol; I had the door as cover, but my right hand fetched out my trusty taser pistol.

The driver fired first, but the shot hit the inside of the window. The glass pocked, but did not crack, or even star. Then the offsider fired, which surely must have deafened the both of them, in that confined space. Pellets blasted off the inside of the door; some actually hit my shoulder and arm, but did no damage. Between the Brute power I was channelling, and the armour I was wearing, it would take more than that to even bruise me.

I brought the taser pistol around the door and fired; the electrical arc hit the driver, and he slumped back, stunned. My next shot hit the offsider; he dropped the shotgun as he joined the driver in limp insensibility.

“Holy shit!” That was L33t. “Are you all right, Hax?”

“Perfectly fine,” I murmured. “Get these guys out while I deal with our friend in the back. He's about to open the doors.” My light-spot had noted him moving while I was exchanging fire with the men up front; evidently, he had decided to come out and join the fun.

Holstering the faux Lawgiver, I moved faster, as I heard the rear doors unlocking. They opened just as I got to the rear of the truck; one swung open fast enough to catch me in the shoulder. I stumbled sideways, caught my balance, and moved around the door.

The guy came out fast; he jumped down, and almost immediately, his fist was accelerating toward my face. He was big, and I knew exactly how strong he was; fortunately, I had given myself training in how to take down big, strong opponents. Thank you, Über.

I ducked, letting the blow slide over my shoulder; reaching up, I grabbed the guy's arm and turned to perform a shoulder throw. Not a perfect one, as I didn't want him crushing the stun rifle, but good enough under the circumstances.

He hit the asphalt hard enough to crack it in several places, but it didn't faze him. Almost before I had regained my balance, he was coming to his feet once more. I did have the time to observe his costume; it looked vaguely like a stone-wall pattern.

“Stay down, lawbreaker,” I told him, staying in the 'Judge' persona. “Attacking a Mega-City Judge is an offence against the law.”

“I have no idea what you're on about,” he snorted. “The name's Blockade, and all I gotta do is slow you down long enough for help to get here.”

He had a point; I didn't really want to hurt him, but if this fight went on for too long, the other capes would get here, and make a getaway with the cash much harder … whoops.

There was a crowd starting to gather on the side of the road, and my cape detector had just pinged someone with powers in there. But they weren't doing anything that I could tell.

He swung at me again, but I saw something in his posture, and didn't focus on his arm. It was fortunate that I hadn't, because instead his leg came up, a heavy boot aiming at my kneecap – or where he thought my kneecap was. I evaded the feint easily, the kick less so, but in the process, I managed to hook his other foot out from under him. He fell back, landing heavily once more on the road.

Fuck it. Drawing the 'Lawgiver', I shot him several times with it. He absorbed the hits with dismaying ease, stumbling a bit as he came to his feet, but not giving away much to show that he'd just absorbed enough taser shots to put down several large men.

“That all you got?” he sneered as he stepped up toward me again.

“Nope,” I told him, and kicked him in the nuts.

Up until that point, I had been entirely defensive; my only attack had been with the taser. So it took him by surprise. Given the Brute level that he was demonstrating, I used all the power of the suit, plus the strength I was getting from his powers. My foot slammed into his groin, and he doubled over with a strangled scream; this time, as he slumped to the ground, I didn't think he'd be getting up again in a hurry.

I checked the time on the HUD. To my surprise, we had one minute, five seconds of elapsed time. I had thought the fight had gone on for much longer than that.

Holstering the pistol, I bent down and slung the cape over my shoulder. My suit was able to handle the weight, so I moved the light-spot over to the parahuman I had spotted in the crowd.

“Got a cape in the crowd, by the way,” I murmured. “Not doing anything … ahh. Interesting.”

“Interesting funny, or interesting run-like-hell?” responded Über practically.

“I think it must be Panacea,” I told him. “No-one else's powerset fits.”

The stream of data I was getting was very interesting indeed; I made sure that Blockade was healthy, then put him into dreamland for a fifteen minute nap. If Panacea's capable of all this … wow. She's really holding back on her abilities.

But I had other things to worry about; dumping Blockade on the pavement, alongside his colleagues from the front of the truck, I watched as Über drove the truck forward, and then reversed it around in an arc. I helped by giving directions; between us, we got the truck lined up with the alley in which the van waited.

Ninety seconds.

Carefully, he reversed down until the back of the truck was mere feet from the rear of the van. L33t had not been idle; he was laying down the seats in the van until everything behind the front seats was one storage area. Once the truck came to a halt, he stepped across, and started slinging bales of money from the truck into the van.

Über climbed out of the cab of the truck and nodded to me; I nodded back. So far, so good. “I'll get up high,” I told him.

“Good idea,” he replied.

Moving around to the front of the truck, I vaulted on to the hood, then the roof. Leaping from there, I grabbed a fire escape, and scrambled the rest of the way to the roof. Down below, Über and L33t were feverishly stacking bales in the back of the van.

Two minutes.

My stun rifle at the ready, I scanned the cityscape. The little hover-cam came up to scan me; I struck a pose.

That nearly undid me, right then.

At the last minute, my cape detector pinged me on something coming in from behind me, at speed. My light-spot had shifted back to Über, when I passed him in the alley; he didn't have anything to help me right at this very second, so I threw the light-spot on to the incoming threat.

She came in so fast and so hard that I didn't have time to turn all the way around before she slammed into me. The impact was massive, but it didn't come with the pain of broken bones, or even bruising. I skidded over the rooftop – thankfully, she had hit me away from the alley – then stopped myself and came to my feet.

Flight. Strength. Force field. Emotion aura. I knew who this had to be.

Glory Girl. Panacea must have called her sister in.

She came in to hit me again, and I dodged aside at the last minute; bringing the stun rifle into line, I acquired her with the HUD and fired. I did not want to be trading blows with Alexandria Junior for the next half hour.

ZORCH.

The beam struck her … and did exactly nothing.

Ah, of course. Force field protects her absolutely, against the first hit, but then it goes down for a moment.

I tried shooting again, to take advantage of the recharge period, but apparently her power recharged faster than my stun rifle. Especially as it had tried to ramp up enough to get through the force field, and was now … wow. It exhausted the entire capacitor? Crap.

The power source I had in there would recharge it, but it would take time. Time I didn't have.

She came at me yet again, fists ready to smash into me. If that counts as two hits … one of those is going to count. This is going to hurt.

Unless …

I felt the impacts that time; a few warning lights popped up on the HUD, even as I went skidding again. Nothing serious, though. And the force field was still intact. So if I strobe it, it doesn't 'burn out' with any hit. I'm just not getting the 'total immunity' from any one hit that she is.

How do I take her down? There's going to be more capes showing up really soon.

I came to my feet. “Leave, now,” I warned her. “Or face the consequences.”

“Yeah, right,” she retorted, hovering about a dozen yards away. “I'm kicking you around like a crash test dummy, and your big gun did exactly jack against me. How are you gonna stop me from taking you and your buddies in?”

“Last chance,” I told her.

She rolled her eyes and gathered for another charge. I felt for the pistol at my hip.

Which wasn't there.

It must have fallen from the holster when she hit me.

Crap.

Plan B, then.

As she came at me, I fell backward … and started flying, right along with her. Her fists contacted me, and I grabbed them, preventing her from punching me. We whipped toward the edge of the roof … and my cape detector came within range of her sister once more. Still holding her wrists, I kneed her in the stomach. Not hard, but hard enough to kill her force field temporarily. At the same time, I put the light-spot on Panacea.

And as soon as I had her powers, I simply put Glory Girl to sleep.

Both of us stopped flying at that point; I cushioned the impact, sliding along the roof toward the parapet. At the last moment, I put the spot back on Glory Girl, using her flight to slow us down. We still hit the parapet with teeth-jarring force; more red lights bloomed on my HUD. But I was intact, and my armour was still working.

Rolling the teen hero's limp body off of me, I resumed using Panacea's powers. Glory Girl was healthy, and she'd wake up in about five minutes. Which was four minutes and thirty seconds longer than I needed.

My HUD ticked over three minutes.

“Hax,” Über informed me. “Time to go.”

“Roger,” I responded. Leaping over the edge of the roof, I borrowed Glory Girl's power to make an impressive landing on the roof of the truck. The back doors of the van were closed; I jumped to the ground and hurried to the side door.

“Hey,” L33t greeted me as I got in. “You okay? Your holocloak is flickering.”

“Took a few hits,” I told him. “I'm good.”

“Your guns?”

I felt for the strap of the stun rifle. It wasn't there; I must have lost it when Glory Girl tackled me the last time. “Crap.”

“We don't have time to hang around,” Über told me. “Capes and PRT are on the way.”

“It's fine,” I told him. “Go.”

As the van started moving, I sent the destruct signal to each of my guns. Two signals came back; ASSET DESTROYED. It was a wrench, but at least I could rebuild them now.

<><>​

“So how much was taken?”

“One point three million, in mixed denominations,” the PRT agent on scene reported. “That's gonna leave a dent in their balance sheet.”

Piggot privately agreed, but dismissed the matter as irrelevant. "You're absolutely certain that Über and L33t have a new member."

"Yes, Director," he replied. "The description we have is of a woman, maybe six-one or six-two, very strong. The badge she wore gave her name as 'Hax'; Hotel Alpha X-ray. She had some sort of heavy weapon as well as a pistol. Both were destroyed on site, but we've retrieved fragments of components. There might be traceable serial numbers on them."

“Good,” she agreed. “Get on to that.” She paused, thinking. Six foot one was inches taller than Taylor Hebert, but perhaps lifts in the shoes? “Any pictures from the scene?”

“Not good ones,” he told her. “People across the street using phones. Mainly the fight with Blockade. I've got people talking to them now. Oh, and just so you know. Panacea was on scene. She's the one who called in Glory Girl.”

“Makes sense,” Piggot agreed. The girl had also notified the PRT, but apparently her sister had been closer by. “Do we have imagery of the fight with Glory Girl?”

“No, ma'am. That took place on a rooftop.”

“Do we have any indication of how she managed to knock out two Brutes in quick succession?”

“No, ma'am. They have no lingering traces of injury, that Panacea can tell. They were just … unconscious.”

“Could this Hax be the same person that Aegis and Vista encountered at the North Side Storage Facility?”

The agent paused. He had read the report of that action, of course. “There are some similarities, yes,” he agreed. “She exhibited Brute levels on both occasions, and used an electrical discharge weapon on both Aegis and Blockade. In addition, Blockade indicated that she was a trained martial artist. But she didn't show the ability to fly this time, at least not blatantly. And whatever she used to knock them out …”

“Thank you,” Piggot told him. “If you get anything more, let me know.”

“Will do, ma'am,” he confirmed.

Piggot hung up the phone, and steepled her hands, tapping the fingertips together. It fitted, all right. If she was using the powersets of capes on site against them …

It was Taylor Hebert. It had to be. But she couldn't act on it. Not without absolute proof.

Picking up the phone, she dialled another number.

“Hello?”

“Report.”

“Subject has been at school all day. No unusual behaviour noted.”

“You're certain of this.”

“I've been mopping the halls. She's been attending her classes.”

“An armoured car was robbed at eleven fifty-seven this morning. Where was she then?”

“I had eyes on her until eleven fifty-eight, when she walked into her classroom, in company with about twenty other kids.”

“So, no chance she could have ducked away.”

“Zero.”

“Keep observing.”

“Will do.”

She put the phone down.

How the hell is she doing this?

<><>​

“Okay, how the hell did you do that?”

Returning from the fridge with a couple of cans of soda – for the guys – and a chocolate milk for me, I looked at L33t. “Do what?”

“Knock out Blockade and Glory Girl so easily is what,” Über supplied. “You barely tapped them.”

L33t rolled his eyes. “Well, what you did to Blockade was more than a tap, but he should have gotten up after that.”

I handed the guys their drinks, then sat down on the sofa. The screen was showing the replay of the fights, with chatty commentary by both Über and L33t. Über had finished editing it, and we were watching it before posting the footage to their site.

“Ah, yeah,” I told them with a grin. “That was Panacea.”

L33t frowned. “Panacea?”

I nodded. “Yeah. One of her powers is to provide anaesthetic so that her patients don't feel pain while she's healing them. So I just … “

I wasn't sure why I was downplaying her abilities. What I had read from her while we were in contact was … amazing. She could do far more than heal, or make people unconscious. Her ability could do anything to a living body that was biologically possible. The difference between what she could do, and what she said she could do, was … significant.

I just didn't feel that it was my place to reveal her secrets; if she wanted to keep them, I wasn't going to spoil it for her.

“Hah!” Über grinned broadly. “You just put them to sleep with a touch.”

“Basically, yeah,” I agreed.

L33t frowned. “Okay, I got that. But how? You were wearing armour. You couldn't touch them.”

It was my turn to grin. “Well, see, that's the Manton field generator. I might have mentioned that.”

“Manton field generator?” asked Über. “I've never heard of those.”

“You wouldn't have,” I told him. “I invented it for the suit. Basically, it makes the suit part of me, as far as the Manton effect is concerned. I'm it, and it's me. So if I take on a power that affects me, it affects the suit as well. Touch attacks, for the win.”

L33t was frowning again. “Seems to me that opens you up for abilities that would normally be blocked by the armour.”

“Yeah, it would,” I agreed. “Except that the Manton field also makes powers that affect living treat me as non-living … and vice versa.”

Über's jaw slowly dropped. “Holy. Shit,” he breathed.

“Holy fucking hell,” L33t added.

“So … any power that's affected by the Manton limit … you ignore,” Über paraphrased.

I shrugged. “Basically?”

L33t slowly shook his head. “That … that's fucking hax, right there.”

“Well,” I responded with a grin, “that is the general idea.”

Both Über and L33t threw sofa cushions at me.


End of Part Fourteen

Part Fifteen

 

Trump Card

Part Fifteen: Body Double Shenanigans


Thursday Afternoon, January 13, 2011

“So you had to self-destruct your guns, huh?” asked L33t, leaning on the door-frame of my workshop. “That really sucks. I hate it when I build something cool and it breaks. Good thing your suit's still up and running.”

“Oh, they're not gone for good,” I told him as I peered into the interior of my suit. “I just have to make them again. I might need to price a few of the more interesting components, but now we've got the cash to do just that.”

He stood up straight at that. “Wait, what? When something of mine's broken -”

“ - you can't remake it, I know,” I agreed. “When I borrow your power, it works the same way. But when I shift my power to Über and then back to you, it's like I'm starting fresh.”

His eyes widened. “No shit? You mean, blank slate?”

I turned to him and zoomed the goggles back down to standard before nodding. “Sure. I mean, I can't make more of one thing, but so long as it doesn't exist as a device any more … “

“Wait here!” he exclaimed, and dashed out of the workshop.

I blinked behind the goggles. Well, that was interesting. Where was I going to go, exactly? With a shrug, I turned back to the armour. A few bits and pieces had been bent and broken during my fight with Glory Girl, but hopefully, nothing that I couldn't fix. Zooming the goggles back up to full mag, I peered into the interior of the suit, activating the LEDs with a flick of my eyes at the HUD. “Ah-ha,” I murmured. “There you are.”

Clear as day, I could see a connection that had been jolted free during the wild slide across the rooftop. Reaching in, I positioned the soldering iron -

“Here!”

I jumped violently at L33t's exclamation; fortunately, the soldering iron had not been active, or I might have slagged a couple of critical components. Turning, I dialled down the mag once more, and gave L33t an exasperated look. “What?”

He didn't seem to notice at all. “Here!” he blurted again. “My old notes! Cool shit that I built, that got broken!”

With a sigh, I put down the soldering iron. “Let me see.”

He thrust the thick sheaf of notes into my hands. “If you can help me rebuild any of this stuff, any of it at all, that would be so damn cool. I would be in your debt like, forever.”

I leafed through them; they were classic Tinker notes. That is, scribbled in pencil on whatever paper was available, stained with coffee and soda rings, annotated with mostly-illegible writing, and thumbed through a hundred times. But of course, I could understand them perfectly.

“Huh, cool stuff,” I noted. “Yeah, I could build some of it.” I looked up at him. “You supply the materials, of course.”

He nodded eagerly. “That's fine, that's fine."

I tapped the notes. “And some of this stuff impinges too closely on what I want to make for myself, so I can't; you understand that, right? But some of it, sure.”

"Whatever. Just … wow, holy shit. And if I break it, you can make it again?”

I shrugged. “Sure, I guess. It's no biggie.”

He was dancing on his toes, looking like a terrier wanting to go walkies. “Holy shit, wait till I tell Über.” He paused. “Right now, I'd hug you and maybe kiss you, but that would be way too creepy, so I won't.”

I nodded solemnly. “Definitely way too creepy. Hug and kiss, understood. Bring the materials by; I'll get to it once I sort my own stuff out.”

He nodded jerkily and darted out of my workshop. Outside, I heard a “Woo hoo!” that dopplered into the distance.

Tinkers. With a grin and a sigh, I turned back to repairing my armour.

And in the back of my mind, Alibi's daily life went on …

<><>​

“It's not going to work, you know.”

She/I looked around as Emma closed on her/me in the hallway.

“What's not going to work?” she/I asked.

“Whatever it is that you've got going on,” Emma sneered. “The teachers can only cover for you for so long. They can't watch you one hundred percent of the day.”

“Is that what's stopping you, Emma?” she/I asked innocently. “Don't like witnesses? Or is it that you aren't so sure of yourself without Sophia around?”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” she retorted viciously. “Sophia'll be back. You'll see. And sooner or later, the teachers will stop letting you use their bathroom -”

“Wait, what?” she/I asked. “The teachers' bathroom?”

“Well, you're not using the regular ones,” she replied, frustration evident in her voice. “And you sure as hell can't hold it all day. So you've worked out some deal where you use the teachers' bathroom; big deal. It can't hold forever. They'll stop caring. And then – you're mine.”

“I look forward to it,” she/I told her with only the slightest hint of sarcasm in her/my voice, and moved on. Inside, I was feeling annoyed with myself. With all the excitement going on around the armoured car heist, she/I had forgotten to go to the bathroom all day. It was a small slip, but small slips lead to big ones.

She/I, as Alibi, didn't need to use the bathroom; her/my digestive system was designed to make as close to one hundred percent use of processed foods as I could manage. But to not go into the bathroom, to occupy a stall for a certain amount of time per day, would eventually be noticed. So far, Emma wasn't actually suspicious. But that could change.

When I brought Alibi to stay at Über and L33t's for Friday night – I'd decided to spend that night at home with Dad at first hand, instead of second hand – I would insert a timer that would remind me that she/I needed to 'use' the bathroom. All equipment had bugs in it to start with, I reminded myself.

Ironically, because as Alibi was able to give Dad one hundred percent of her/my attention, she/I was getting along with him better than ever. Who knew that getting a job as a supervillain would help me reconnect with my father?

<><>​

He sat three seats away from the Hebert girl, on the bus. For a suspected cape, she didn't spend much time keeping an eye on her surroundings; most of the trip, she had her nose buried in a book. As expected, she got off at the stop two blocks from her house, and walked away; he stayed on the bus, watching, as it pulled away from the curb again.

At the next stop, Alec got off the bus and pulled out his phone.

<><>​

Coil answered the call at once.

“Report.”

“Hi, boss. Yeah, I'm fine. How are you?"

Coil ground his teeth. "Just. Report."

"Okay, fine. Just rode the bus from the school to her stop. She's totally zoned. Didn't look around even once.”

“Did she seem to register you as a cape?”

“Like I said, didn't look around even once. Her range must be pretty crappy, or it must be something she's got to turn on.”

Coil considered that. “Estimated chance of hostile extraction?”

Regent snorted. “Pretty damn good. Given half a chance, I could maybe walk her right off the bus and no-one would be the wiser.”

“Friends or acquaintances? Anyone likely to see?”

“Hah, no. Everyone ignores her. She's a loner. The classic invisible girl. Except, you know, not.”

“Hm. Well done. Very well, unless I tell you otherwise, tomorrow you have a green light. Call me if you have any complications.”

“Sure thing, boss-man.”

“Good. Keep the rest of the team in the dark about this. I don't know how they would react, and it would be unfortunate to find out that it's 'badly' in the middle of the op.”

“Yeah, like I'm gonna screw this up now.”

“Excellent. You'll find a bonus in your pay this month if you can pull this off.”

“Woo! Under Fire Six, here I come!”

He ended the call and leaned back in his chair. Regent was enough of a sociopath that Tattletale had trouble reading him at the best of times; by the time she connected the dots, if she ever did, it would be too late.

Permanent access to a cape who could copy powers was potentially very useful indeed. And Coil intended to be the only one with that access.

<><>
​

Über wandered into my workshop. “Hey, Hax. Damn, but what you've got on the stove smells nice. Oh cool, you finished fixing the armour.”

I refrained from telling him that he could cook just as well as me, if he chose to use his power that way. “It was only dinged up a bit. Nothing major broken.”

“Yeah, but taking on Glory Girl? That was some kinda badass.” He grinned. “We're getting more hits than ever on our channel, and the amount of speculation as to your powerset is reaching ridiculous levels. Everyone's got you pegged as some kind of Brute, but as for the other powers … well, L33t can't stop giggling, every time he starts reading the threads.” He shook his head. “Seriously, you're the best thing that's happened to this team since forever.” He peered at the workbench. “What's that you're doing now?”

With the screwdriver in my hand, I indicated the gun in front of me. “I'm putting my wireless taser back together. It was the easiest one. The big gun's gonna take some cash to rebuild.”

“I can throw some in,” he offered. “After all, it got broken on the job. And L33t tells me that you're willing to help rebuild some of his old tech.”

“Well, sure,” I agreed. “It'll take time and some money, but I can do that, easily.”

A wistful look crossed his face. “You couldn't rebuild the sword he made for me, the time we did the old Masters of the Universe game, could you? That sword was wicked awesome.”

I couldn't help it; I laughed. “You put on that ridiculous breastplate and played He-Man?” Though, when I thought about it, I had to admit that he had the physique for it.

He nodded, grinning. “You should've seen L33t as Skeletor.”

I shook my head. “Now I have to see the Youtube clip.”

He grimaced. “Spoilers – it doesn't end well.”

I patted him on the shoulder. “Well, we're gonna have a lot fewer of those to deal with, from now on.” I picked up the sheaf of notes and thumbed through it, until I found the sword. “And sure, I can build it, no problem. It looks like fun.”

He looked like a kid who'd been promised a puppy for Christmas. “You're the best. Wanna come sit down for a three-player?”

“Love to,” I told him, “but I've gotta get this baby back online.” With a nod, I indicated the pistol, still in bits. “Soon as I'm finished, though … “

His grin lit up the work-room. “Excellent. See you out there.”

He wandered out again, humming something that sounded suspiciously like We are the Champions, in perfect tune, of course; I grinned to myself and set to work on the wireless taser once more.

<><>
​

“So why couldn't I just fly you home from school?” Vicky grumbled. “It would have been a whole lot quicker than taking the bus.”

Amy gave her a level stare. “Because, hello? You were knocked out on that rooftop by unknown means, and I don't want you to risk passing out in midair and risking your life and mine, until I know how she did it.”

Vicky sighed. “I feel fine. You checked me out. You didn't find anything wrong with me.” She kicked at a pebble on the pavement. It ricocheted off of a telegraph pole, and skittered most of the way across the road.

“Yes, I didn't find anything wrong, which is what worries me,” Amy told her. “Because I didn't find anything that told me why you were unconscious. No trauma of any sort. No drugs. No toxins. You were just … asleep.” Her voice became very dry. “And I know that you've found some fights to be somewhat boring, but I've never known you to fall asleep during a fight before.”

“Maybe she's just got some sort of sleep touch,” Vicky suggested. “Induced narcolepsy, or something.”

“I may not be willing to affect brains,” noted Amy, “but I can read brain chemistry. Yours was all wrong for narcolepsy. It was, however, perfect for someone who was just … asleep.”

“Fine,” Vicky told her. “You don't know what knocked me out. How about the bank cape? Blockade, or whatever his name was?”

Amy shook her head. “They'd revived him before I got there. But I checked him over, and he didn't have any trauma either. And I know he took hits that should have at least bruised him.”

Vicky frowned. “Well, that's just plain weird. What do you make of it?”

Amy shook her head. “I have no idea. It doesn't make any kind of sense. Unless, I dunno, she's got some sort of healing sleep ability, and she's putting people to sleep and healing their wounds at the same time.” The tone of her voice showed how little credence she gave that idea.

“You know, Ames …” Vicky's voice was slow and thoughtful. “Your powers could do that exact same thing. If it was you instead of her.”

“But you said she had Brute levels, and could maybe jump or fly really well,” protested Amy. “I can't do any of that. Maybe she did some sort of neural induction thing that knocked you and Blockade out without leaving outward trauma.”

“And the healing thing?” pressed Vicky.

Amy shrugged. “A regeneration field that's always on?”

“Well however it goes, she certainly wins the award for most ethical villain of two thousand eleven,” Vicky joked. “Seriously, no-one really hurt, and she leaves me in the recovery position, even though I whaled the tar out of her?”

Amy raised an eyebrow. “You sound like you want to shake her hand instead of punch her, if you met her again.”

“Oh, I'm ready for a rematch, that's for sure,” Vicky declared. “And this time around, I won't go easy.”

Amy rolled her eyes. “I've never known you to go easy.”

Bickering good-naturedly, the two strolled on toward home.

<><>
​

I flopped on to the sofa and grabbed up the controller. L33t glanced over at me as I logged in. “Cool, you done?”

“With the armour and taser, anyway,” I agreed. “And I glanced over your notes. Gonna have to look over what we grabbed from North Side, but I'm fairly sure I can put Über's sword together again, and there's a teleport plate doohickey that looks reasonably easy to construct.”

“Woo hoo!” exulted Über, from the other side of L33t. “By the power of Greyskull!”

“Hey, how about you Greyskull some of those bad boys over there. I'm getting shot at, here,” L33t chided him with a chuckle. “You know something, Hax? I feel like I should be pissed that you're using my power better than I ever did – and let's not forget the total ridiculousness of being able to hit the reset button like you do – but it'll be worth it just to get some of the old favourites back up and running. And hey, there's a few devices I started on and never finished because I built something else sort of like it … “ he trailed off.

“And you'd like me to see if I can finish them off?” I replied. “Uh, sure. When I've kind of got the time, but yeah, I can do that.”

“Suh-weet!” he exclaimed, just as I sniped one of the enemies that had him pinned down. “Holy shit, nice shooting.”

“Thanks,” I replied with a grin, then glanced at the screen clock. “Uh, just so you know. Fifteen minutes, then dinner will be ready. Okay?”

L33t sniffed at the cooking odours drifting over from the kitchenette, and a blissful look crossed his face. “Oh, you know it.”

Über and I shared a grin as we went back to the game. I'd had my doubts about joining forces with a supervillain pair like Über and L33t, but I was honestly enjoying myself. And, villain or no, the respect I was getting from them was going a long way toward repairing my self-esteem.

<><>
​

Friday, January 14, 2011

“Hey, Alec, where you going?”

Alec looked over at Brian as he buttoned his shirt over the mail coat, then pulled a jacket on over the top of that. His sceptre and mask went into his backpack. “Out. Boss gave me a job.”

Brian frowned. “The boss only contacts Lisa. What's going on?”

Alec shrugged. “Contacted me for this one. Does it matter?”

Lisa wandered out of her room, yawning. “What's going on? Alec, the boss contacted you? Why?”

Alec tried to hide his annoyance, but realised that Lisa would see it anyway. “He wanted me to do a job, okay? Something you're not needed on. A one-person thing.”

“You still don't know who he is,” she noted. “And this is something that the rest of us probably don't want a hand in.” She fixed Alec with a stare. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

He shrugged. “A bonus is a bonus.” She'd figure that bit out pretty quickly anyway.

Brian frowned. “I don't like it. We're supposed to be a team.”

“And you want the extra money?” jibed Alec.

“No,” growled the older teen. “I don't like some of us going off and doing solo jobs. There's a risk involved here.”

Alec shrugged. “Take it up with the boss. Me, I've got a job to do.” Hefting the backpack on to his shoulder, he headed for the stairs. They didn't move to stop him.

He was just glad that Brian and Lisa didn't know about the injector that he'd been handed on the way home yesterday. Some guy, a bit on the bulky side, had brushed past him on the bus, and he'd found himself holding the thing. It was in the side pocket of his backpack right now, and it would have definitely raised some very awkward questions.

He supposed that he should feel bad about helping to plan the kidnapping of a teenage girl, but it really wasn't his problem. The boss would treat her all right, surely. And it might be cool having another girl on the team. Once she came around to their way of thinking.

<><>
​

“You're really serious about this jogging thing, aren't you?” Über puffed, keeping up with me but showing the strain just a little.

“Yeah,” I told him, vaulting on top of a dumpster, then leaping to the next one before jumping down to ground level again. “Seems that running away is a good skill to have.”

He mustered a grin. “And you're definitely more into the parkour than I ever was.”

“Saved my ass with Armsmaster,” I agreed. “And I owe you for that.”

We turned a corner into an alley which was blocked off by a high chain-link fence; Über began to slow down. On the other hand, I sped up. Hugging one side of the alley, I ran toward the fence, then at the last moment, ran at the other side. Leaping into the air, I ran up along the wall for a few strides, then kicked off, giving me just enough height to put my hand on top of the fence and vault over it. Bouncing off of the wall on the far side, I landed, rolled, came to my feet, then turned to look back at him.

“Well?” I asked him. “You coming?”

He nodded, then jumped at the fence, pulling his way up the links with unsurprising skill. “Now, if we could get L33t out here exercising as well … “

I snorted. “I'm sorry. I can copy any powerset, and I'm in a team with one guy who can let me learn any skill, and another who can let me build anything. But I can't work miracles.”

Über laughed so hard that he fell off the fence.

<><>
​

Julia sauntered up to where Emma was sitting in the cafeteria. "Hebert's on her way to the bathroom now."

Emma stood up from her seat. "About fucking time. What was she doing?"

"Talking to Mrs Knott."

"Did it look serious?" Emma led the way out of the cafeteria.

Julia shrugged. "Dunno. Afterward, Mrs Knott went one way, and Taylor went another."

"Do we even know she's going to the bathroom? She must have a bladder like a camel."

"Madison's following her. If Hebert goes somewhere else, she'll let us know."

"Good." Emma got to the stairs and started up them. Behind her, Julia's phone pinged.

Emma stopped. "What is it?"

Julia grinned at her. "She just went into the bathroom."

"Okay, let's hurry."

<><>
​

As helpful as L33t had been in outfitting my workroom – he had donated a large amount of his spare tools to the cause – there were some things that it lacked. Large floor-mounted power tools, such as drill presses and heavy-duty grinders, for instance. I had them on order – I could afford them now – but they had yet to arrive, and so I had to borrow L33t's workshop for some of the jobs.

Initially reluctant to let me use any of his things, he had changed his tune almost totally since the North Side job, and then the armoured car heist. And with my assurance that I could use his powers to recreate some of what he called his 'greatest hits', he was gratifyingly eager to let me use his equipment.

Given that the stun rifle needed a few key components that we needed to either make, buy or steal in order to make it work, I had elected to hold off on even starting it yet. After all, we didn't need it right this minute. Of course, I had taken the time to jot down a few notes, such as a double-tap mode to defeat Glory Girl's invulnerability field. The next time we met, I was going to zorch her out of the sky. Crash test dummy, hah.

I dialled back my goggles to normal clarity as I lifted the length of metal from the grinder. “This is about the right shape, yeah?”

L33t, across at the other side of the workshop turned around and lifted one side of his ear protectors. “What?”

I lifted mine as well. “Shaped like this, yeah?”

He looked at it closely, then nodded. “Yeah, perfect. You've really got an eye for this.”

I shrugged. “Über's power let me pick up engineering techniques. And your power lets me estimate lengths and measures pretty good too. So between them, I'm set.”

Über leaned in through the workshop door. “Did I just hear someone say that my power was useful in building something?”

L33t rolled his eyes. “Now you've done it. He'll be insufferable from now on, you realise this.”

“Hey, they call it synergy,” I told them both with a grin. “I – oh god. Oh god, yes, this is too perfect.” I began to giggle.

Über peered at me suspiciously. “Is this some sort of Tinker thing?”

L33t shook his head. “I don't think so. Hax?”

My eyes, behind the goggles, were focused elsewhere.

<><>
​

They got there just in time; Hebert was just exiting the toilet stall as Emma pushed her way through the door, followed by Julia and Madison. She would much rather have gathered a few more girls, given Taylor's sudden show of fighting capability on Monday, but short notice was short notice.

Taylor looked around as Emma entered the room. "Oh, hi, Emma," she greeted the redhead mildly. She crossed to the basins and started to wash her hands.

"Seriously, that's all you can say?" Emma retorted. ""Oh, hi'?"

Taylor looked over her shoulder at Emma. "What did you want me to say?"

"You're pathetic," spat Emma. She stepped forward and grabbed the strap of the bag that was slung over Taylor's shoulder. Taylor didn't resist, which emboldened her. Emma dangled the bag from its strap. "What are you going to do now?"

Taylor straightened up, and Emma took a step back. "Please give me my bag," Taylor enunciated clearly.

"Or you'll do what?" taunted Emma. "Beat me up?" She almost added 'or use your powers', but you never knew who was in the toilet cubicles, who might hear her words.

Taylor drew a deep breath. Irritatingly, she did not seem the least bit upset, only ... curious. "Why are you doing this, Emma?" she asked. "Why have you tormented and bullied me ever since I got to Winslow?"

Emma felt uneasy at that. Taylor was being far too calm. Too strong. Too confident. For just a moment, she considered returning the bag, leaving the bathroom.

But then Madison took the bag from her and went to a basin. Turning the water on full, she prepared to empty the contents into the basin, into the water swirling there.

"Because you're pathetic," Emma spat, regaining her confidence. "You're weak. You're not worth knowing. You don't deserve to be at Winslow."

Taylor ignored her. "Madison," she stated warningly, "don't do that."

Madison gave her a long look; Julia aligned herself alongside Emma, screening her from Taylor. "Do it," she urged Madison.

Madison tipped the contents of the backpack into the basin, and Taylor acted. She moved forward, but without any finesse, without any of the grace and speed that she had exhibited on Monday. Almost clumsily, she tried to push between Emma and Julia.

Recalling her previous humiliation at Taylor's hands, Emma initially recoiled from her, then regained her courage. She grabbed an arm, trying to force it behind Taylor's back. On the other side, Julia was doing the same.

"Let me go!" shouted Taylor, struggling just hard enough to make them tighten their grips.

"Not until you get down on your knees and tell us how weak you are," Emma panted. Sophia made this physical stuff look easier than it was, but she had to admit, it was fun. The one thing she couldn't figure out, the one thing that niggled at her, was the question of why Taylor was such a pushover now, when she'd been so formidable on Monday?

And then the toilet stall opened, and the question was answered. Mrs Knott stood there, a forbidding expression on her face.

"Let. Her. Go," she snapped.

And after that, it was no fun at all.

<><>
​

“So these girls know you're a cape and they're still trying to bully you?” asked L33t. “Are they fucking insane?”

I shrugged; the grin was still on my face, but I had stopped giggling long enough to give them the basic explanation of what was going on. “They're so invested in it that to stop now would be to admit that they're wrong,” I explained. “But now they're trying to push me into using powers against them, so they can report me.”

Über shook his head. “Powers, which for all they know might be capable of hurting them badly,” he observed. “And they hate you enough to risk that sort of danger, just to bully you.”

“Not all of them. Just one.” I leaned back against the work bench. “But the others follow her lead.” My grin had more teeth in it than normal. “And right this very second, that's leading them into the principal's office.”

“Wait a minute,” L33t put in. “You … did you bait them, with Alibi?”

I tried to look innocent. “Maybe,” I admitted. “I may have also … “

<><>
​

Carrie Blackwell rubbed the bridge of her nose with thumb and forefinger. She did not need this. Most especially, she did not need Emma Barnes, popular girl and daughter of a lawyer, in her office, accused, along with Madison Clements and Julia Morrow of bullying the girl she had given strict instructions to protect from such bullying.

“So, Taylor,” she began. “If I get this right, you approached Mrs Knott and told her that you didn't feel secure going to the third floor girls' bathrooms, and would she go there to make sure that you weren't accosted.”

Taylor nodded firmly. “Yes, ma'am, I did.”

Backwell turned to Mrs Knott. “Gladys?”

“Yes, she did, ma'am,” Gladys Knott confirmed. “You told us Tuesday to keep an eye on her, so I decided to do as she asked. I went to the bathrooms first, and she followed along.”

“What happened then?” asked Blackwell of Taylor.

“Well, I got there, and I did what I needed to do,” the girl replied readily, “and I was just about to go, when Emma came in with Madison and Julie.”

“I was in a toilet stall. I heard them come in,” Mrs Knott went on, “and I overheard them saying very hurtful things to Taylor. She asked them why they had been bullying her since she came to Winslow, and they did not deny it. Then I heard a scuffle, and water running, and I peered out to see Emma and Julie holding Taylor, while Madison ran water over her books, so I intervened.”

Principal Blackwell looked over the three girls with extreme disfavour on her face. “This is bullying and victimisation of the most egregious type,” she declared. “I have no doubt but that this has been going on for some time. Thus, my course is clear.”

<><>
​

L33t was sitting on the floor, laughing. Über leaned against the door-frame, holding his sides. “That's awesome,” L33t choked out. “You owned them.”

“Getting a teacher to listen in,” Über managed. “That's fuckin' epic.”

I nodded, chuckling a little myself. “And get this. In-school suspension. For the next two months. The principal is pissed.”

“There's something I can't figure out,” L33t pointed out. “If they were harassing you so much, how come this never happened before?”

I shrugged. “Before, it was them against me, three against one, and the principal always listened to the popular girls.”

“Yeah, I hear that,” L33t agreed. “Shit like that happened to me, back in the day, with the jocks.”

“Not the only one, bro,” Über declared. “Remind me to tell you the story about how I got shut in my own locker that one time.”

I shook my head. “Yeah, no thanks. Pass on that.”

Über shrugged. “Suit yourself. Anyway, I was heading out for a food run. Any requests?”

“Uh, get some more Twizzlers?” asked L33t.

“Twizzlers, gotcha,” Über noted. “Hax?”

Pulling off my work glove, I reached into my back pocket and extracted a folded sheet of paper. Über unfolded it and looked it over. “Well, damn,” he noted. “Is it just me, or is most of the stuff on here healthy and nutritious?”

“Well, if I don't get you guys to buy stuff that's good for you,” I retorted, “who will?”

“Fair point,” conceded Über. He turned to go. “See you guys later.”

I nodded. “Just so you know, I'll be heading home later. Alibi will be here in time to make sure dinner doesn't burn.”

“And gaming too?” asked L33t eagerly.

“And gaming too,” I agreed with a smile.

“Excellent.”

<><>
​

She/I got on the bus at Winslow. Two stops later, she/I got off the bus, in order to change lines. Über and L33t's base was a different direction to Dad's house, after all. A few people got off at the same stop; most walked away. One stayed; a teenager of her/my age or so. He seemed engrossed in his Gameboy, so she/I ignored him.

When the new bus came, she/I got on board. So did he. This seemed a little coincidental, but not hugely so. This kid might take this line every day; I had never taken much notice as to who went where, after all.

There weren't many spare seats at this time of day, so she/I picked a seat down toward the back. At the next stop, the woman sitting in the window seat got off the bus; she/I moved over to take the window seat. A few moments later, someone sat in the seat next to her/me. She/I looked around, to see the teenager from the bus stop looking intently at her/me.

“Hi,” he murmured, just as she/I felt the needle penetrate her/my arm. The dermis was designed to detect pinpricks and cuts, of course, and her/my arm jerked in response. His eyes narrowed in surprise. “That's funny ...”

Damn it.

She/I had three options: play along, play dumb, or out Alibi as what she really was. She/I went with the first option, slumping down in the seat. I hadn't built chemical sensors into Alibi, but it was definitely on my list of things to do. Thus, I had no idea what it was that this kid had just injected into her/me, but it was a good bet that partial or full unconsciousness was one of the side effects.

As for the rest of it, this was obviously a kidnap attempt on Taylor Hebert, rumoured cape. I couldn't let that slide, and I couldn't let them figure out what Alibi really was. In short, I had to save Alibi without blowing her/my cover, and also make life really hard for whoever was trying to kidnap her/me.

In other words, I was going to have to stage a daring rescue of my own body double.

This was going to be interesting.


End of Part Fifteen

Part Sixteen

 

Trump Card

Part Sixteen: Combat Rescue


I burst back into Über and L33t's base, moving so fast that I literally skidded to a halt, sliding over the concrete flooring to end up behind the sofa they used as a gaming centre. Both of the guys were sitting, playing the shooter that they'd been involved in when I left. Über paused the game and turned to look at me.

“Hey, Alibi,” he greeted me. “Cool entrance. You got here quicker than I thought.”

I shook my head, trying to catch my breath. “Not Alibi,” I gasped. “Me. Hax. I have a problem.”

L33t looked around at that. “What problem?” he asked sharply.

I took a deep breath. “Alibi's been abducted.”

Über blinked. “Oh, shit,” he muttered.

“Oh, for fuck's sake,” agreed L33t. “There goes our four-player game nights.”

Über elbowed him in the ribs. “Dude. Alibi's almost the same as Hax. Have some respect.”

“Guys,” I managed. “I want to rescue her before someone pulls her apart and discovers she's not human. Can you help me out here?”

“Sure,” Über stated at once. “You're a part of the team. Of course we'll help rescue her.”

“Definitely,” L33t chimed in a moment later. “Otherwise, who'll cook for us when you're out?”

Again, Über elbowed him in the ribs. “Dude. Not cool.”

L33t sighed. “I'm just kidding. Jeez, you want to grow a sense of humour sometime.” He turned to me. “We're on it. What do you need?”

I leaned on the back of the couch. “We can't mount a rescue operation until they stop moving her. And until I find out who took her. Once I find that out, I intend to go there and get her back. By whatever means necessary.” I showed my teeth in what might have been a grin. “So I'm gonna need your workshop. And your help.”

L33t rubbed his hands together, looking altogether too gleeful. “All righty then.” He jumped up off the sofa and headed for his workshop.

Über looked mildly concerned. “Is it all right for me to feel just a little pity for whatever poor bastard took Alibi?”

“Sure,” I agreed. “So long as it doesn't get in the way of helping me kick their asses into next Tuesday.”

He cracked his knuckles. “Don't worry. Multi-tasking is a skill I perfected years ago.”

“Good,” I told him. “Now, I'm going to need you to do some stuff for me.”

A brisk nod. “Name it.”

I ticked off on my fingers. “I'll be writing up a list of stuff I need from the shop, asap.”

“Sure,” he agreed. “I can do that.”

“Also, we're gonna be Tinkering full bore. So anything that needs to be fetched, grabbed or moved, we'll probably be calling on you.”

He nodded again. “Sure thing.”

“Also, make sure dinner doesn't burn,” I concluded.

He blinked. “That ... doesn't sound very heroic?”

I gave him a steady look. “Do you want to explain to L33t why his dinner was spoiled?”

A look of consternation crossed his face. “Ah. Point. Right, got it.” L33t was known to wax lyrical about my cooking.

“Thanks. You're the best.” I gave him a genuine smile and a pat on the shoulder, and went to grab the stack of plans that L33t had given me.

By the time I got back to L33t's workshop, he had the power tools warmed up, ready for use. “Okay, Hax,” he declared. “What do we do first?”

I laid the plans out on the workbench. “We've got a fairly narrow window here, so we need to combine our capabilities. At the same time, I don't want to make you use up your capabilities unnecessarily. So I'll be getting you to make the parts, while I assemble them.” I jabbed my finger at the paper. “We'll start with this one here … “

<><>​

A Little Earlier

She/I lolled bonelessly on the bus seat. The teenager shook her/my shoulder. “Shit,” he muttered. “That dose shouldn't have put her all the way out.”

If he abandoned the attempt now, if he just got up and left the bus, that would leave me ignorant of who was attempting to kidnap her/me. So I had her/me stir a little, letting out a slight murmur as she/I did so.

“Oh, thank god.” The relief in his tone was palpable. “Right, then. Let's see if I can't pull this off.”

And to my surprise, I felt my own leg twitch ever so slightly, while her/my leg twitched somewhat more substantially.

“Wow, it really hit her hard,” he muttered to himself. “I should get more of a reaction than that.”

There was another twitch, which I was able to override in my own body, while Alibi's body responded. I felt, however, that I could override that as well, if I needed to.

He's a cape, I belatedly realised. He can control people via their nervous systems. I had built Alibi's nervous system to mimic a normal human's, as much as possible, with the 'autopilot' in the simple brain of the body double handling basic things like walking and balancing. It seemed that I had done such a good job that he was able to tap into Alibi's body, and even send a little feedback through the link with me. Although the signal was so attenuated by the time it reached my body that I was easily able to ignore it.

The bus drew to a halt at the next stop. The teenager sat her/me up, and then sent controlling impulses through her/my arms and legs to follow him out of his seat. He was a little clumsy about it, and I was somewhat tempted to take over and show him how a puppet should be guided. However, I strongly suspected that this would blow the whole deal. As would kicking this joker's ass up and down the bus, as much as I might want to.

She/I stumbled off the bus, with him right alongside her/me, ready to lend a steadying hand. One woman looked across at us, and she/I saw a look of concern cross her face. But then the boy said out loud, "Come on, let's get you home before Mom finds out you've been drinking." The woman's face closed down, and she looked away from us; on the one hand I was vaguely relieved, but on the other, I was irritated that she hadn't done more to make sure that she/I was all right.

Behind us, the bus pulled away from the stop. I debated my next move; did I wait to see what happened next, or did I grab the kid and squeeze him for information, and risk blowing my cover? My real body was on another bus, heading the other direction, but I was too far away to intervene, which would carry a whole series of risks in itself anyway. My best bet was to change buses and get back to Über and L33t at the first opportunity.

<><>​

" ... so while I was on the way back here, the kid walked Alibi to a car, where this other guy gave her a face full of chloroform on a rag," I related, while easing two parts into alignment. They fitted, and I picked up the soldering iron. A click on my goggles darkened the lenses slightly; another click zoomed the magnification in. "At least, I think it was chloroform; it smelled horrible."

"Probably chloroform, then," agreed L33t, as he watched me join the two pieces. "So what happened then?"

"Don't know what happened to the boy," I told him as I finished soldering. "But she was blindfolded, gagged, her hands zip-tied behind her, and she was shoved into the back of a van. At least, I assume it's a van. Feels right, sounds right."

L33t was looking at the plans; as he started in on the next component, Über hustled in with two heavily laden bags. “Got the stuff you wanted,” he panted, putting the bags down. “'Scuse.”

He hustled out again; I spent a moment putting the light-spot on him, and noted that he was heading for the kitchenette. Flicking the spot back to L33t, I nodded to him. “Dinner will be ready soon,” I noted.

“We're going to take time to eat?” he asked. “Alibi could be anywhere by now.”

I shook my head., and pointed. “I know exactly where she is. Just pulling into what's probably some sort of underground parking garage, about three miles that way.”

“What the hell? How do you know that?”

With a smile, I tapped the back of my neck. “My control device gives me precise range and bearing.”

He rolled his eyes and grinned. “Should have known. Typical Hax.” He paused. “So, gotta ask. Is this another ninja op, or do we actually get to costume up?”

I smiled, or at least showed my teeth. “Yes and no. Costume, yes. Not from a classic video game, sorry.”

L33t looked at me suspiciously. “You're going to pull something, aren't you? And it's either going to be hilarious, fantastic or horrific, and I can't tell which one.”

I sighed. “Well, I guess I should tell you sooner rather than later.”

So I told him what I had planned. As I spoke, his jaw dropped further and further.

<><>​

“Now hear this. Now hear this. This base is under Master/Stranger protocols as of this moment. If anyone around you appears to be acting oddly, report it immediately. I repeat, Master/Stranger protocols are in effect.”

Coil turned off the microphone and leaned back in his chair. Then he leaned forward again and pressed a sequence of keys on his keyboard. A banner began scrolling across the bottom of the computer screen: IF I DO NOT ENTER A CODE SEQUENCE EVERY FIVE MINUTES, THIS BASE WILL SELF-DESTRUCT.

He had no evidence, of course, that the Hebert girl had acquired Regent's powers during her brief contact with him, or that she retained powers after she left the presence of the cape in question. However, he had not gotten to where he was now by leaving anything whatsoever to chance.

In the other timeline, the kidnap had not happened at all; he had called Regent earlier and told him to forego the mission. The money would still go into his account, of course; the boy was a sociopath, but a useful sociopath. Until he stopped being useful, in which case he would be either dealt with or discarded, whichever was more expedient. Coil allowed himself a brief smile; he had discarded more than one ex-asset over the years, and sometimes the process had been … fun.

In any case, Regent had been ordered to return to his comrades, not much the wiser as to what had just happened. He had assisted in the kidnapping of a teenage girl, but he knew little more than that. Nor would he talk about it to the others; he had been paid, and that was all he cared about.

The Hebert girl would stay in his base until such time as he deemed it safe to continue; as it was Friday, her father might well assume that she was choosing to stay out late. As the girl had no mobile on her – that was one of the first things that his men had checked – there was no way he could call her up. So it would be Saturday morning at least before he really started getting worried. By which time, Coil would have what he wanted, or Taylor Hebert would be dead.

He watched the image on the screen as the carefully-chosen guards placed her into the cell. One of them peeled back an eyelid and checked her pupil response, then felt for a pulse.

“Pupil reflex is normal, pulse is normal,” he reported out loud.

Coil did not answer; the guards, as previously ordered, exited the cell and closed the door behind them. He watched her as she slept, lying carelessly across the padded floor of the cell. Momentarily, he almost hoped that she would prove to be useless to his needs; he had not inflicted true death on someone in quite some time, as opposed to the false death where he killed them in another timeline, and he felt the need once more. Still, once he was free to split the timelines once more, he could indulge himself in the timeline where he didn't have to be nice to her.

He settled down to wait, the warning still scrolling across the foot of his computer screen. He had spent years getting to this point; a little impatience could ruin years of work. A powerful Trump, under his control, could do so much for him …

<><>​

Taylor should have been home by now.

Danny Hebert knew the bus schedules fairly well by now, and was aware that the bus from Winslow dropped off in time for Taylor to be home well before dark. It was edging to early evening now, with the sun low in the sky, and she still wasn't home. No twanging as she opened the wire gate at the side of the house, no step on the back porch, no click of the key in the lock.

He knew that the police required twenty-four hours of absence before they regarded a person as missing; a teenager, only a couple of hours late, on a Friday afternoon, it not even being dark yet, they would consider simply not worth their time.

And it may well be nothing whatsoever. There was the other thing she had been doing, staying out long hours without much in the way of explanation. The night she had, he was convinced, sneaked out and helped perform some bizarre robbery, arriving home literally seconds before the PRT pushed their way through the front door.

She had said she was done with that, and she had seemed to be true to her word, staying home every night, helping with the chores, as happy and cheerful as he had seen her, even after the trouble at school. And she had been going to school, too. Things had been settling down, after the locker incident, and they had been growing closer again.

Which made this unexplained absence all the more unusual.

Finally, he could not stand it any more. Getting off the sofa, he went to the kitchen to check on the lasagne he had cooking, then picked up the phone. To get the number, he pulled a card out of his wallet. He dialled the digits, one by one.

<><>​

Director Piggot's desk phone rang. She checked the caller ID, and frowned. Why is he calling me?

Taking a breath, she picked up the receiver. “Parahuman Response Teams, Director Piggot speaking.”

“Ah, hi, this is Danny Hebert. I'm the father of Taylor Hebert, the girl -”

“I'm well aware of who you are, and who your daughter is, Mr Hebert,” she replied crisply. “May I ask how you got this number?”

“Armsmaster gave it to me, when we last spoke,” Hebert replied just as crisply. “You may recall the occasion, when your men forced their way illegally into my house and terrorised my teenage daughter with loaded automatic rifles.”

Piggot gritted her teeth. “I recall,” she replied curtly. “Get to the point, sir. Why are you calling me, now?”

“To ask you one simple question,” he replied. “Have you had Taylor picked up? Because if you have, and it's not for anything you can prove, I will -”

“Wait a minute,” she protested. “Your daughter is missing?”

“I wouldn't say 'missing', exactly,” he responded. “But she's normally home at this time. She doesn't usually stay out, even on a Friday evening. I trust her not to do something stupid, but I was worried that someone else might have done it instead.”

Meaning us, Piggot noted, reading his meaning loud and clear. “No, sir,” she replied instead. “I have given no orders to that effect. I can ask my on-duty officers if they have done or seen anything of note regarding her, but as nothing regarding that has come across my desk in the last hour, I believe the answer is no.”

“Can you check anyway?” asked Danny.

“I will do that immediately,” Emily replied. “I won't keep you waiting on the line; if I do not call you back, it will mean that there's no news on my end.”

“Thank you,” Danny replied. Without further ado, he hung up; the click was loud in her ear.

She hung up the phone, then took out her mobile and checked the duty roster for those PRT officers in charge of squads, currently on duty. Calvert, of course, while a squad leader, was off duty and was therefore not contacted.

To each of those that she contacted, she sent a brief text asking if they had picked up a teenage girl of any description, or seen any incident regarding one, in the last couple of hours. After sending the text, she opened up the PRT internal email server. She had just begun to compose the mail when the first return text chimed in her mobile.

Snatching it up, she read the text. The answer was 'no'. As was the next, and the next, and the next. One by one, all squad leaders reported in, stating that they had had no significant contact with any teenage girls on their patrols.

That was good news, Piggot decided, but only after a fashion. If Taylor Hebert had disappeared on the way home from school, and the PRT wasn't responsible, then who was? Worse, who would be held responsible? She had a horrible feeling that she knew exactly what the answer to that one was. And that the person in question was the one that she looked at in the mirror every morning.

She finished typing up the email, triple-checked the wording and the address to which it was being sent, and clicked the appropriate button. The computer beeped, indicating that the message had been cast into the electronic ether, to fetch up, like unto a message in a bottle, upon a distant metaphorical shore. Though with rather more accuracy than those hopeful messages of days gone past.

<><>​

Alexandria's phone beeped, and she slowed down long enough to pull it from its reinforced pouch. Normally she kept it set to only accept the most urgent of messages, and she was curious as to what achieved that status on a Friday evening.

It was an email message, sent from Emily Piggot; the tagline got her immediate and full attention.

Taylor Hebert missing.

It took just a few seconds for her to read the body of the message, which spelled out in rather more detail what she already knew; it was only a couple of hours, her father reported it, Piggot had not ordered it, she had checked with her squad leaders, the usual. In her mind, it boiled down to “She's missing, we didn't do it, help!”

Well, she mused, at least she's proven that she can learn.

“Door to Contessa.” Her voice was calm and unworried. If anyone can fix this, it's Contessa.

Without fuss, the doorway unfolded before her, and she stepped on to the white sterile tiles of Cauldron's base. Behind her, the door closed once more.

She took three steps, then noted that the doorway to her left – a real doorway, in this instance – was open, and she could hear the rattle of someone using a computer keyboard with some intensity. Peering in, she saw Contessa herself, wearing her trademark suit, leaning back with a wireless keyboard on her knees, staring at the wall-sized screen before her. She wasn't even watching as she typed, but then, she didn't have to. Her power guided each and every keystroke as if she had been training all her life to do just this job. Lines of code streamed across the screen.

Rebecca found herself envying Contessa just for a moment; to be always sure of exactly how to carry out a mission, to know every step far in advance, how useful and comforting it must be. But then, on the other hand, to be always faced with the knowledge of how many steps there were to go until Cauldron's ultimate goal was realised. If it were ever to be realised.

No, I believe I would choose to live in ignorance.

Stepping into the room, she cleared her throat. “Contessa,” she stated. “We have a problem.”

“No, we don't.”

The rebuttal, so clearly and concisely spoken, took her aback. “I don't know if you consider it a problem or not, but -”

“You believe that Taylor Hebert has gone missing,” Contessa did not look around from the screen. “Your assumption is incorrect. Emily Piggot is working from false data. Taylor Hebert has not gone missing.”

Alexandria was used to being the smart person in the room; recently, she had found herself mildly shaken by her encounter with the Trump called Taylor Hebert. And now, Contessa was doing it to her as well. This was not the first time Contessa had stumped her; nor would it be the last. She was even kind of used to it. But it didn't mean that she had to like it.

“If Taylor Hebert has not gone missing,” she tried once more, “then why did Daniel Hebert call Director Piggot and say that she had?”

“Because it's Taylor Hebert's body double that's been abducted.” Contessa told her blithely, still typing rapidly on the keyboard. “Taylor hasn't gone home because she's planning a rescue.”

“Body double? Abducted?” Rebecca sat down on a conveniently placed chair. “She has a body double?”

“She does,” Contessa confirmed. “It's been abducted by Coil. He thinks it's the real deal, and intends to force her to work for him.”

“Oh shit,” Alexandria muttered. She drew a deep breath. “I have to stop this before it gets out of hand. Door to -”

“No.” Contessa's voice was firm. “That's not the way.”

Alexandria stared at her. “Then what is the way? What are you going to do?”

Contessa didn't answer; her fingers on the keyboard rattled to a crescendo, and the lines of code on the screen dwindled down and disappeared, to be replaced by pictures. Security camera pictures.

“You hacked into Coil's security feeds,” Alexandria stated, with barely any surprise. This was Contessa, after all. “I'm surprised he has outside lines.”

Contessa smiled briefly. “He'd be surprised, too.” She cleared her throat. “Door to microwave.”

Just as the small opening appeared in the air next to her, Alexandria heard the microwave oven make its ding sound. Contessa reached through; her hand reappeared with a bag of popcorn. She tore it open, the mouthwatering odour filling the room in seconds, and offered Rebecca the bag. “Want some?”

<><>​

“Oh, shit.” Über shook his head wildly. “No way. Not a hope in hell. He'll kill us.”

“He wouldn't kill us,” L33t told him, grinning like a maniac. “Not for something like that.”

“Well, send us to the Birdcage, then,” Über relented. “Or jail. Not the revolving door type, either. The type where you don't escape from.”

“It's not a Birdcage worthy offence,” I told him, trying hard not to grin too widely myself; Über was looking from one to the other of us, as if trying to figure out what we'd been sniffing. “At worst, it's a misdemeanour. The real charge would come if I actually committed a crime.”

“Breaking and entering on Coil's base isn't a crime?” yelped Über.

“Is Coil going to call the cops?” countered L33t. He mimed dialling a phone, then held his hand up to his ear. “Hello, is this the police? Ah, yes, this is Coil? You know, notorious supervillain?” He paused. “Well, fairly well known supervillain.” Another pause, and he frowned elaborately. “Look, I'm a supervillain, all right? I've got a base and everything. I've even got minions. Seriously, I mean it.”

His voice was high and whiny, almost a parody of how he'd been when I first met him. By this time, I was giggling so hard that I had to sit down. Über tried to shoot me an exasperated glance, but he was grinning too.

L33t hadn't finished. “Look, what I'm calling you about – what do you mean, what's my address? I'll text it to you as soon as I've finished this call, all right? Okay, where was I? Oh yes, see, I kidnapped a teenage girl, in the hopes of forcing her to work for me, but it turns out she was a body double of the real girl, and she and her dashing and handsome teammates -”

That set Über off; he leaned against the workbench, then slid to the floor, laughing helplessly. L33t was doing his best not to laugh, but chortles were escaping through, even as he manfully kept going. “So – hehe – yeah, they've broken into my base – ha ha ha ha – and they've rescued the body double and given me a wedgie too – oh god, I can't keep going.”

By this time, I was laughing so hard, I fell off the chair. I rolled on the floor, holding my stomach, while L33t slowly subsided to the floor on one side of the workshop, and Über whooped like a hyena on the other.

Über recovered first. “Can you imagine,” he cackled. “They ask him for his address. He sends it.” He paused for a beat, then assumed a chagrined expression. “Whoops.”

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” I gasped, slowly pulling myself to a sitting position. “I wish he would call them. That would be so hilarious.”

“We pull this off,” L33t pointed out, “this puts us on to the fucking map.”

“It'll also put us on to the Protectorate's radar,” Über pointed out more soberly. “Which is what I was trying to say, earlier. We don't want to be there.”

I climbed to my feet and dusted myself off. “I'm already there,” I told him. “But I've got a personal assurance that they'll stay off my case.” I grinned. “And in any case, this is payback. They came into my house and pointed guns in my face. So fuck 'em.”

They both stared at me, eyes wide.

“You're shitting me,” L33t breathed.

“I shit you not,” I replied, and dusted my hands off. “Well, almost done, and then it will be go time. We're going to have to get a move along; he's starting to question her. I don't know how long Alibi will hold out before he twigs to what she is.”

“Dibs on the wedgie,” Über noted. “Finished dinner?” He indicated the plates on the workbench; we'd eaten standing up, snatching bites in between doing our work.

“So to speak,” grumbled L33t. “That's something else I want to talk to Coil about. If I'm gonna have dinner, I want to be able to enjoy it.”

“I'll cook you something when we get back, okay?” I told him.

It was almost miraculous, the way he brightened up. He rubbed his hands together. “All righty then. Let's get to it.”

“You two have the appropriate uniforms, right?” I asked.

Über nodded as he stacked the plates. “Yeah, we made them up awhile ago, when it looked like they were going to bring out a movie. We were going to wear them to the premiere. It never happened.”

I nodded. “Good. L33t, how are you going with that?”

“Just about finished with the detail work, so you can do the internal adjustments,” he replied cheerfully.

“Good.” I turned to finish the latest addition to the Hax armour, a bulky disk that was affixed to the shoulders of the suit. It made for a vulnerable point on the armour, but it was something that could not be helped. I gave the connections a once-over on high-zoom scan, then closed the panel, locking it into place.

<><>​

Sundown. She's been awake for ten minutes. There's been no alarm raised via the PRT. Good to go.

Coil smiled, and dropped the timeline where he had told Regent not to go ahead with the kidnapping, and opened another, alongside the current one. Despite the fact that he was reasonably sure that the Hebert girl didn't have Regent's power – if she had ever taken it – he did not deactivate his precautions. His office door remained locked, and the banner continued to scroll across the bottom of his screen.

<><>​

Timeline A

When the door lock clicked open, Taylor Hebert ran to it. “Oh, thank god,” she gasped. “I have no idea where I am. Can -”

The jolt of a stun-gun dropped her to the floor again. She was dragged into the next room, where a chair awaited. She was fastened into it, the straps holding her down securely. Under each hand was a prominent button.

<><>​

Timeline B

When the door lock clicked open, Taylor Hebert ran to it. “Oh, thank god,” she gasped. “I have no idea where I am. Can I speak to whoever's in charge? There's been a terrible mistake.”

The guard nodded politely. “Certainly, miss,” he told her. “If you will just come this way?”

Cameras followed her as the guard escorted her to a comfortably furnished lounge, with a coffee machine in the corner. He gestured her to a seat, then took up a position next to the coffee machine. “Would you like a cup, ma'am?”

“Uh, no thank you,” she replied, taking a seat. “Where's your boss?”

<><>​

Timeline A

“Your name is Taylor Hebert,” Coil stated into his microphone, “and you're a Trump.” He saw her react, her head coming up. She began to speak, but he ignored her. “In a moment, your restraints will send an electrical charge through your body. You have ten seconds to decide which button to press, in order to prevent this from happening. Starting now.”

The seconds counted down; at the last moment, she jammed her hand on to the left-side button. Then the current hit her; she convulsed, straining at the restraints.

“Hm.” Coil frowned. If she was using my power, she would have pressed both buttons, and chosen the line where she did not get shocked. Unless she thought it was a bluff, or she's trying to trick me.

“Again,” he stated flatly. She was screaming, begging, pleading. Denying. He ignored her. “Ten seconds.”

This time, she jammed her hand flat on the right-hand button, kept it there until the current hit her. Coil frowned again. She knows now that the current is not a bluff. Her range is probably shorter.

Deactivating his Master/Stranger precautions – after all, if she were going to use any Master powers she had taken from Regent, she would have by now – he unlocked his office door, and started walking toward the section of the base where she was being held.

“Again,” he stated. “Ten seconds.”

This time, she chose correctly. But when he tested her a fourth time, she failed. He started walking again.

<><>​

Timeline B

The large screen on the wall flickered to life, and she saw the image of his masked face. He saw her brow furrow in concentration. “Who are you?” she asked. “Why am I here?”

“I apologise for the rather unorthodox manner of your arrival,” he told her smoothly. “Unfortunately, as a supervillain, I cannot simply invite someone to my doorstep. And even should the authorities find that we have been associating, you can point to the abduction as proof that there was no prior intent on your part.”

“Well, of course there was no damn intent on my part,” she retorted, rubbing her arm. “That kid injected me with something. Why the hell am I here?”

“Because I want to offer you a job, of course,” he replied. “You possess talents that I wish to have in my employ.”

She tilted her head, the lights in the room flashing off of her glasses momentarily. “I'm a fifteen year old high school student,” she pointed out, somewhat warily. “I can't imagine any talent that I have that you might want to make use of. And if it's something that I don't want to think about, eww.”

He had to chuckle. “No, Taylor. The talent that I wish to make use of is the one that you acquired recently. Your cape power. Your Trump power.”

She blinked in what seemed to be honest confusion. “You're mistaking me for someone else. I'm not a cape, Trump or otherwise.”

“My information says otherwise,” he pointed out.

“No, really,” she told him. “I'm not a cape. You can test me.”

<><>​

Timeline A

As he got closer, the more her assertion, as wild as it was on the surface, seemed to be borne out by events. She was averaging about one success in two now; sometimes she would get several in a row, but it was obvious that she was trying to outguess the random mechanism. Sometimes she would be shocked several times in a row as well; it evened out.

When he entered the room, she was hanging forward from the restraints, watery blood drooling down her chin from where she had bitten her lip, or perhaps her tongue.

“Please,” she sobbed, her throat raspy from where she had screamed herself hoarse. “I'm not a cape. I'm not. You have to believe me.”

He knelt beside her, his hand on her arm. If she was going to acquire his power at all, this would do it. “One last chance,” he murmured. “Get it right, and you live.”

Ten seconds later, the shock convulsed through her; he snatched his hand back just in time, only getting the barest tingle. Turning toward the camera, he pulled his hand across his throat; finish her. The current kept going, until she was only reacting to the jolts themselves.

With a sigh, he turned away from her. “Dispose of the -”

<><>​

Timeline B

With an effort, he kept himself from jolting in surprise. What the hell? What happened? The timeline just … ended.

I died. I must have.

But … how?

Or did she … take over my use of my power? Force me to drop the timeline where something bad happened to her? A chill ran down his back. No-one had ever done that to him before.

On the screen, she was peering at him. “Hello?”

“Oh, uh, sorry.” He eyed her warily. “I … we were talking about how I know you are a cape.”

“I keep telling you, test me,” she insisted. “I don't care what you think you know, I don't have cape powers.”

He split the timelines again. In one, he pointed at the screen. “Stay there. I'm coming to speak to you personally.”

<><>​

Timeline C

In the other, he stayed right where he was.

This required further study.

<><>​

Alexandria frowned and pointed at the screen. “You see that? Right there? He just got a hell of a shock. Now what could have caused that?”

Contessa just grinned and munched popcorn.

<><>​

I soldered the last bits into place, and snapped the cover on. I was already wearing the armour; picking up the halberd, I twirled it expertly. My HUD let me select the latest armour pattern that I had uploaded into the suit; holographic gridlines overlaid the armour. Über and L33t watched, already appropriately attired, their faceplates open; as it finished rendering, I struck a pose.

“Well, what do you think?” I asked, my voice coming out rather deeper than I was used to.

“Fucking Armsmaster, to the fucking life,” Über marvelled. “If I hadn't seen it … “

I grinned; the image of Armsmaster showed his teeth. “Well, gentlemen, if you're ready to roll … “

L33t grinned as he snapped his faceplate down. “This is gonna fuckin' rock.”

Placing a hand on the shoulder of each of my teammates, I selected the new option from my HUD. L33t's teleport disk, repurposed, rode the shoulders of my armour. It was a bit of an energy hog, but my suit could power it for two jumps. Beyond that, we would be on our own.

“Okay, boys,” I told them. “Call it.”

“On three,” Über stated.

“Two,” chimed in L33t.

“One,” I concluded, and I gave the command with the flick of my eye.

The teleport disk energised, and we went.

Hang on, Alibi. We're on the way.


End of Part Sixteen

Part Seventeen

 

Trump Card

Part Seventeen: Hostile Extraction


Timeline C

Coil leaned back in his chair, thinking furiously. Something had just happened to shut down his other timeline, and he wasn't sure what. If Taylor Hebert had a Trump power that forced him out of any timeline where he did harm to her, then he would have to tread carefully.

What if she's reading my timelines and reacting accordingly?

In which case, she was scarier than any cape he had ever encountered before. Very carefully indeed.

On the screen, she was still looking around, a little puzzled. He cleared his throat, and her eyes snapped back to the image of him on her screen. “Miss Hebert,” he began politely. “I understand that you were involved in an incident with Shadow Stalker at your high school.”

She blinked rapidly. “I … the PRT told everyone to not talk to anyone about that.”

“Well, I won't tell them that you told me anything.” She didn't respond to his weak attempt at humour. He wasn't actually good at this sort of thing; he did much better when the subject was undergoing unfriendly interrogation in the secondary timeline.

She shook her head. “I … I don't really want to talk about it. And you still haven't told me who you are.”

Given what had just happened, he wasn't sure if he wanted to try to coerce her again. But then, maybe he was overlooking the simple solution. “You can call me Coil. I am a supervillain. You have information that I need. I could pay you for that information.”

She looked a little taken aback. “What?”

“Money,” he explained. “Say, ten thousand dollars in non-sequential bills, in your hand, in five minutes, if you give me a complete rundown on what happened at Winslow.” It would be cheap at the price; his copy of the report of the incident was maddeningly vague.

She frowned. “I … ten thousand? Really?”

Under his mask, he smiled. Greed got them all, in the end. It really was true; everyone had their price. “Just say the word.”

She looked troubled. “But the PRT will know that I talked. They might prosecute me.”

He shrugged, lightly. “Don't mention the money. Say that I coerced you.”

“Can I think about it?”

“Certainly. Take your time.” She wouldn't take long, he knew. People only thought about it when they wanted to talk themselves into it. If she were going to refuse, she would have already.

<><>​

Timeline B

He typed in the code and the door hissed aside; as he stepped through, the Hebert girl looked around and jumped to her feet.

“It's all right; you can sit down,” he assured her. “I'm just here to talk.”

Slowly, she sat. “You haven't told me who you are, yet.”

He acknowledged that with a nod. “You can call me Coil. I'm a supervillain.” He went to the armchair opposite hers and sat down, the better to appear non-threatening.

“Why did you have me kidnapped?” she asked. “I don't know who told you that I have any sort of powers, but it's just not true.”

“Which presents us with a problem,” he noted, steepling his fingers. “I know that the PRT already spoke to you, told you to tell no-one about what actually happened at the school.”

She looked puzzled. “How did you know that?”

Under his mask, he smiled. “I have contacts in many place,” he hinted. “I know your name, I know your face, I know where you live, I know that your father is a spokesman for the Dock Workers' Association -”

<><>​

Timeline C

Coil watched her patiently on the screen. She was fidgeting now, playing with the ends of her hair, taking off her glasses and cleaning them on her shirt, putting them back on again. Classic displacement activity. She was coming to a decision, but not wanting to seem as though she was coming to it too quickly. Which means she's going to accept the money.

He allowed himself a small smile. Once again, his faith – or lack thereof – in the intrinsic integrity of the human race had been rewarded. He had the required amount of money, and much more besides, in the safe in his office; it would be the work of a moment to take it out, have it brought to her.

Of course, if he could resolve the matter in the other timeline, he need never pay her at all. It was always good to have a fallback.

On the screen, she looked up. “Uh, Mr Coil?”

“Yes?” he answered smoothly.

“I, uh, I'll take the -”

<><>​

Timeline B

There was a flash of light that seemed to cycle through the entire visible spectrum; an overpressure wave washed over him. Coil threw up an arm to shield his eyes; even as he did so, he heard a sound which could be best described as ZORCH. It was accompanied by another sound; one which he interpreted, without much trouble, as that of the guard at the door collapsing to the ground.

When his vision cleared, there were three more people in the room; Armsmaster, accompanied by two PRT soldiers. How they had teleported in so precisely was beyond him; the room was a little separate from his base proper, and thirty feet below ground level. Armsmaster was assisting Taylor, who was still blinking her own eyes clear, from the chair. One of the PRT soldiers was retrieving the rifle his guard had been carrying, while the other was covering Coil himself with a large and dangerous-looking rifle of some sort.

“This ends now,” Armsmaster told him grimly. “Coil, you're under arrest. You will come quietly, or I'll be forced to beat you senseless, and then bring you in anyway. Which would you prefer?”

<><>​

Timeline C

There was a flash of light on the screen that seemed to cycle through the entire visible spectrum; Coil blinked, but the effect was somewhat attenuated through the camera. When it faded, Armsmaster was standing there, along with two PRT soldiers. One pointed a large and dangerous-looking weapon at the guard near the door; there was a beam of coruscating energy, a loud ZORCH, and the man fell over. He then pointed the weapon, covering the door, while his partner went to relieve the guard of his weapon.

“It's all right,” Armsmaster told Taylor, who was blinking her eyes clear of the flash. “You're safe now.” He turned to the screen, pointing his halberd one-handed, so that it seemed oddly foreshortened to the camera. “Coil, this ends now. Surrender, or I'll come looking for you. And you don't want me to come looking for you.”

Coil shook his head. “I don't know where you got the teleport coordinates from, but you just signed your death warrant.” He rapidly typed on his keyboard, isolating that section of the base and arming the explosives. The guard would be an unfortunate casualty, but that was preferable to capture -

<><>​

Thousands of miles and a whole other reality away, he never heard Contessa utter the words, “Door to the back of Coil's head.” Nor did he see the portal open, although Alexandria did, given that it appeared directly in front of her, well within her reach.

The last thing that went through his mind was her fist.

<><>​

Timeline B

“Whoa, you see that?” asked Alexandria. “Something just bit him, hard.”

Silently, Contessa offered her some more popcorn. Just as silently, Alexandria took a handful.

<><>​

Coil was used to letting one timeline play out, without showing the effects in the other timeline. This practice stood him in good stead now, given how shocked and stunned he was. The first time that he had been shunted out of a timeline, he had been within feet of Taylor Hebert, having just been in physical contact with her. In that instance, there was the distinct possibility that she had managed to kill him somehow, perhaps with a power she had borrowed off of someone else, earlier.

But this time … she had been separated from him by what he had imagined to be a safe distance, with no physical way to reach him, and no prior physical contact. There had been no outward manifestation or preparation. One moment, he was preparing to destroy Armsmaster and Hebert both; the next … nothing. Shutdown.

How is she doing this?

<><>​

The moment I found myself in Coil's presence, I put the light-spot on to him. Even as I was extending my hand to Alibi and helping her from the chair, I was reading his power.

When I had met Alexandria, not so long ago, I had found her power to be different from the others that I had copied to that point. Those other powers had been vital, active, vocal. They had spoken to me, explaining their capabilities, all the little tricks and improvements that their users had worked out. With Alexandria, it was like reading a document, a contract. It was all there, in black and white, easy to understand. But it wasn't alive. It didn't speak to me.

I had thought that perhaps it was a quirk of her powers; after all, she was the only member of the Triumvirate who I had ever met.

But Coil's powers, although entirely different in form, were like Alexandria's when I tapped into them. A list of capabilities, and how to make them work. No hints, no tricks, no improvements.

Okay, that's weird. But I can deal.

The power itself was even more interesting. Two timelines, and I can drop either one. Well, well, well. So, let's see ...

With the slightest of efforts, I found myself running on parallel tracks.

“This ends now,” I told him in both realities, the armour's systems disguising my voice as Armsmaster's. “Coil, you're under arrest. You will come quietly, or I'll be forced to beat you senseless, and then bring you in anyway. Which would you prefer?”

He twitched just a little. Then he tilted his head and, I presumed, stared up at me. “What the hell is she?” he demanded.

<><>​

Timeline D

“What the hell is she?”

“She's an innocent bystander,” began Armsmaster, but Coil wasn't listening. He flung himself from the chair, lunging for the fallen guard. There was a radio; if he could send out a call -

The haft of the halberd smashed into the centre of his back. He was pinned to the floor like a bug to a corkboard. Something popped in his back, and it didn't feel good.

A heavy boot came down on his shouderblades. “That was not smart,” Armsmaster told him. “Now, who told you about Taylor Hebert?”

Grimacing, Coil dropped that timeline.

<><>​

Timeline B1

My mouth formed a grim smile, echoed by the holocloak. “She's me, you idiot. My body double. No powers, which is why you would have found none.”

I could see his face working under the thin cloth of his mask. “Wait – what? You're not Armsmaster?”

I told the HUD to drop the holocloak; he jerked as he stared at my armour. “What the fuck?”

Inside my goggles, I rolled my eyes. “I'm Hax, you moron. And these are Über and L33t. Yes, I'm a fucking Trump. Yes, I'm currently rocking your powers. Which means that I know exactly what you can do. And the best bit?” I bared my teeth, which he could unfortunately not see, given the full-face helmet. “I'm going to be dropping this timeline in just a second, so you won't remember what I just told you. But I've got all the satisfaction of watching you realise just how truly fucked you really are.”

A moment later, I did just that; it was an odd feeling, to drop an entire line of probabilities. It was a path I could have taken, a way I could have gone. I had experienced it in full, every breath, every action. I could remember it all, even though it had never happened.

It made me wonder; What has Coil used this for?

<><>​

Timeline B2

“She's an innocent bystander,” I told him in my best Armsmaster-speak. “She was caught up in the mess at Winslow, and we brought her in to cover for the real parahuman who triggered there.”

“But the report -” blurted the supervillain, before stopping himself.

“Really?” I asked, leaning forward and taking a solid grip of his full-body costume, around about the base of his throat, and lifting him bodily from the chair. “What report was this, exactly? And how did you come to read it?”

“I -” He stopped himself again. “I'm not saying anything more.”

<><>​

Timeline E

“She was caught up in the mess at Winslow -”

Coil wasn't listening. He hadn't needed to go for the radio; he had his phone in a pouch at his side. All he needed to do was get his hand on it, and he could send a signal for rescue. While Armsmaster monologued on, he stealthily slipped his hand down between the arm of the chair and his side …

… until the tip of the halberd was suddenly pricking him in the centre of the throat. “Yeah,” Armsmaster told him. “Go ahead. Pull that phone out. Be a good boy now.”

Coil stared. “How did you know -”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Armsmaster commented sarcastically. “A Tinker with sensors that can detect electronic items? Unheard of, I tell you. Unheard of.”

Slowly, cautiously, Coil pulled the phone out, and tossed it on to the floor. “Since when did you learn sarcasm?” he asked incautiously.

“Built it into my heads-up display,” the armoured hero replied off-handedly. Instead of bringing his heel down on the phone and smashing it – which would have triggered a base-wide alert – he picked up the phone instead, and handed it off to one of the PRT soldiers.

Fuck.

He shut down that timeline, too.

<><>​

Timeline B3

Bringing the halberd around, I lodged the tip in the cloth alongside his neck, then pushed; the costume tore, the mask pulling off his head as I lifted and twisted.

“You can't -” he protested. “The unwritten rules -”

“- went out the window as soon as you abducted a minor,” I snapped. I looked at his features; I had no idea who he was. My armour took a picture of his face, just in case.

“Guys?” I subvocalised over our radio link. “Any idea who this jerk might be?”

“But I never mistreated her!” protested Coil. “Ask her!”

“Yeah, sure,” I retorted. “Coil, I know what powers you have. I know what you can do. And I know how to get around them. Don't even pretend otherwise.”

His look of shock was even better when I could see his face properly. “I … but, no … how do you know?”

“How do you think I knew where and when to teleport into your base?” I snapped. “I've had my eye on you for a long time. Just waiting for the right opportunity. You're going down for this.”

“I think I've seen his face before,” Über replied slowly. “Don't recall where, though.”

“You've never been able to teleport before!” protested Coil, somewhat inanely.

I snorted. “And you're going to tell a Tinker what he can and can not build?”

<><>​

Timeline B2

“Sir – what's going on -”

We all looked at the image on the screen; one of Coil's mercenaries was staring out of it, taking in the scene. Coil went to shout something; I let go his costume, and clocked him, hard, with my metal-clad fist. He fell back limply into the chair. At the same time, a siren began wailing.

“Well, that's fucked it,” L33t complained, pushing his faceplate up.

“Time to get out of here,” Über agreed.

I aimed my halberd at the camera on the big screen, and pressed the control; a beam of plasma energy erupted and fried the pickup. A moment later, I did the same for the door controls.

“Okay,” I told them. “Decision time. Do we take him with, or leave him here?”

Über grimaced. “Fuck. Leave him here, he might just escalate.”

“Or he might just leave you alone,” L33t added hopefully.

“Yeah, hoping someone might leave me alone never worked well in the past,” I replied. “Fuck it.” Picking Coil up, I slung him over my shoulder. “Let's take him with.”

"All right!" crowed L33t. He reached out his hand, and the small floating sphere that recorded their exploits hummed over from where it had been lurking in the corner behind Coil's back, and dropped into his palm. He held it up, grinning. "We are gonna go viral."

<><>​

Timeline B3

I slapped Coil awake. “Listen,” I told him. Listen.”

“Wha … what?” he mumbled. I shook him, until his eyes focused on me.

“We're leaving,” I told him. “You stay free, but you don't ever abduct any girls again. Or I'll find you.”

He sneered. “Yeah, like that's going to happen. You're going to get back to base and tell everyone who I am.”

“I don't -” I began.

“Of course you fucking do!” he shouted. “We've met, you bastard. You don't need to pretend any more. This? This is an act of fucking war, Armsmaster. You invaded my home. Expect me to do the same.”

I stopped, stunned. Coil knows Armsmaster?

Then I shook my head. “It doesn't have to be this way.”

He spat in my face - or rather, on my faceplate.

I dropped the timeline. You had your chance.

<><>​

Timeline B2

Bringing all four of them back strained the teleport disc, but we managed it. We appeared in the middle of our base; I dropped Coil unceremoniously on the floor. Alibi darted off, came back with duct tape and a cloth shopping bag; under my silent direction, she taped the bag over his head, and his hands behind his back. I had already detected the phone in the pouch with the sensors in my goggles; I plucked it out and pulled the battery, just in case.

“Holy fuck,” L33t marvelled. “Holy fuck. We just abducted fucking Coil. Coil.”

“Not 'abducted',” I corrected him. “Captured.”

"Not that I'm arguing, but what's the difference in this case?" asked Über.

Walking the armour into my workshop, I had Alibi explain, "Simple. He started it."

The armour was low on charge; those two jumps had nearly drained the main power capacitor. As it was, the holocloak had failed more or less as soon as we had arrived. The onboard power trickle generator was capable of charging it up again overnight, but I wanted it ready to go as soon as possible; I plugged it into a step-up transformer and left it. The power bill's gonna be a monster, but hey, we can afford it.

Running my hands through my hair – it always felt like a rat's nest after using the armour – I exited the workshop as Alibi brought a can of soda over to me. Über and L33t had sodas of their own, and they were still staring bemusedly down at the duct-taped form of Coil.

"Okay, where do we go from here?" asked Über. "Because I have never been in this situation before."

<><>​

Coil struggled back to consciousness. Both timelines had him lying on a concrete floor, a bag over his head, his arms fastened behind his back. His phone was no longer in the pouch on his hip.

Okay. You've been in worse positions. Play this smart.

He listened to the conversation going on around him. The girl's voice sounded remarkably similar to that of Taylor Hebert – it might even be her – but the other two, he knew somewhat better. Plans formed, and he set out to implement them.

He cleared his throat. “I would like to open negotiations for my freedom … ”

<><>​

Timeline B

“ … Hax.”

<><>​

Timeline F

“ … Über and L33t.”

<><>​

Timelines B2, F1

As soon as Coil spoke, I shook my head and held my finger to my lips. Gesturing, I moved everyone away from Coil, into L33t's workspace.

“We don't listen to him,” I told them quietly. “We don't respond. He'll offer us anything to let him free. It might even be tempting. But the fact remains that we got the better of him tonight, and he'll never, not ever, forget that. So, one day, it might be tomorrow and it might be in six months … “

I didn't have to finish my speech. Über was already nodding, and L33t echoed the gesture.

“Hey,” Über told me. “We're partners.”

“What he said,” added L33t. “Plus, I doubt he can cook spaghetti carbonara like you can.”

I smiled. “Thanks, guys.”

The boys headed over to the console and started a game; I took my cellphone and ducked into my workshop, closing the door behind me. Dad answered on the first ring.

“Hello?”

“Dad,” I told him. “It's me. I'm fine. I'm safe.”

“Oh god, Taylor,” he gasped. “Where are you? I'll come get you.”

I chuckled. “Dad. It's all right. I was never in any danger. I'm perfectly safe.”

“So where are you? I thought you'd been picked up by the PRT.”

“More or less the opposite, to be honest,” I replied honestly. “Just understand that I am safe, I am well, I am among friends, and that the PRT will be calling you in about an hour or so.”

There was a moment of silence. “I … don't understand.”

I grinned. “I'll tell you some of it when I get home. I think you'll laugh.”

“It'll just be worth it to get you home again, safe and well.” The feeling in his voice was palpable.

“Aww, I love you too, Dad,” I told him. “See you soon.”

“See you then, kiddo.”

“Love you, Dad.”

“Love you.”

I ended the call and held the phone to my chest for a moment, enjoying the warm feeling the call had given me. I might hang with Dad tomorrow night, as well. To make up for the fright.

<><>​

Timeline B4

I cleared my throat. “So, what do you have to offer?”

Coil turned his head my way. “I presume I am addressing Hax? Newest member of the Über and L33t team? Also known as Taylor Hebert?”

“I am Hax,” I responded coldly. Über opened his mouth to ask a question; I could guess what it was. I gestured for him to stay quiet and asked it myself. “How did you know it was us?”

“I don't know your voice all that well,” Coil told me, “but I have employed Über and L33t before. Their voices are quite familiar to me.”

“Understood,” I replied. “You wish to negotiate. So negotiate.”

“I want to employ you,” he stated simply. “Either alone or all three of you. Starting bonus of one million up front, each. Starting wage of one hundred thousand a year, to be renegotiated upward at the end of the first year.”

The sheer nerve of the guy was impressive; I glanced at the others, trying to see how they were taking it. I had to admit, if this offer had come before I started with the boys, I might have been very tempted indeed; however, after the jobs we had done, I had some perspective on the matter.

“Interesting,” I commented. “Generous, even. Especially for someone with a bag over his head.”

“Very well, Hax,” he responded, without missing a beat. “Two million up front, and two hundred thousand a year. Or … if you choose to separate from the team and come to work for me on your own, I'd pay you five million, and five hundred thousand per annum.”

I re-evaluated my estimate of his nerve. His was made of solid fucking titanium. Bag over his head, duct tape on his wrists, and he was offering us a staggering sum of money, but that wasn't the impressive bit. The impressive bit was the tone of voice; confident, almost casual. Absolutely sure that I would accept the offer.

<><>​

Timeline F2

“Wait a minute,” L33t blurted. “How did you know it was us?”

I hid a smile. Well, if it was just a guess, it's been verified now.

“If you will recall,” Coil told him patiently, “I have employed you before now. I am quite familiar with the sound of your voice, and that of your partner.”

Über glanced at me; I nodded encouragingly. “Fine,” he told Coil. “You got us. It's us. So negotiate.”

“First, let me congratulate you on your current success as a supervillain trio. Hax must be quite the addition to your team.”

Über frowned, then answered. “Yeah, we're pretty happy with her too. She really kicks ass.”

“I note, however,” Coil went on, “that you aren't doing as many video-game themed crimes as before. I'm presuming that the North Side job was your doing?”

“Yeah, well, that was just to get some stuff for Hax,” Über told him uncomfortably. “We did do that armoured car robbery, though. That went off really well.”

“Oh, I understand.” Coil's voice was smoother than oiled silk. “When you get a third member in a partnership, the whole dynamic changes. Sometimes you will find yourself going off in a totally new direction, one that neither one of you expected … or wanted.”

L33t went to open his mouth; I gestured for him to stay quiet.

“Yeah, well, maybe,” Über replied. “But we're good. We're dealing. We've got plans in the works.”

“Oh, I understand,” Coil responded, his voice dripping sympathy. “Which is why I'd like to suggest an alternative.”

“An alternative?” asked Über.

“Yes,” Coil told him. “You come to work for me. All three of you, Hax included. You get to do all the video-game themed jobs you want, at my expense, with the proviso that any one of you is also available for any other work I have for you. One million each, up front, as a starting bonus. One hundred thousand per annum. Wages to be renegotiated upward after the first year.”

“I dunno,” Über mused, scratching his chin. He sounded convincing, even to me. “It sounds like a good deal … “ He gestured to me and L33t, mimed putting his hand over his mouth.

“I dunno,” I cut in. “I kind of like the way things – mmmph!”

L33t grinned at me as I held my hand over my own mouth and made shuffling sounds on the floor with my shoes, then did his best to speak harshly. “Shut the fuck up. The men are talking.”

“My, my,” Coil noted. “Dissension in the ranks?” I made more muffled sounds. For the most part, I was doing my best not to laugh.

“Nothing to worry about,” Über told him bluntly. “You were saying?”

“Well, there's that alternative,” Coil went on without missing a beat, “or if you're really unwilling to drop the partnership angle, I'd pay even more just to have her delivered to me, free and clear. Say, two million, one apiece, if you cut me loose here and now, and hand her over to me. No hard feelings, price of doing business, all that jazz. And hell, I'd even be willing to hire her out to you if you figure you can't do without her from time to time. Free of charge, even.”

“Hmm,” Über observed. “A cool mill' in the hand is a nice chunk of change, bro. What do you say?”

L33t scratched his chin. “Might be worth it. Might be, indeed.”

<><>​

Timelines B2, F1

We passed some time in silence. Alibi started a thank-you meal for the boys, while I kept an eye on the charge level in my armour suit. They got on to the console and started up a first-person shooter, which Alibi and I joined in on intermittently; we kept the volume down, and comments to a minimum. I found it touching that the boys had created a separate account for Alibi, mainly because she could play at the same time as me; I was effectively playing two characters, which made playing against me dicey at the very best.

Coil made occasional attempts to get our attention over the next hour, but we resolutely ignored him. He called out my name, both as Hax and as Taylor; I began to consider the concept of duct tape as a gag. Bonded permanently to his lips. I didn't respond, however, not even when he uttered threats against my father.

Über and L33t likewise ignored him, even when he offered frankly ludicrous amounts of money if they would change sides right this second. They had taken my warning seriously; anyone can make wild promises if his welfare is on the line. Enforcing those promises is another thing altogether.

Alibi served up the meal, and we ate; L33t took the time to enjoy every bite. He stopped halfway through, motioned to Coil, then pretended to shoot himself in the head. Then he went back to eating; Über snorted his drink out of his nose, and I had to slap him on the back.

It is, we discovered, very hard to laugh silently while eating.

After the meal, we convened in my workshop, while Alibi kept an eye on Coil. He was still calling out periodically, but that seemed to be more from habit than anything else.

“Okay, charge is good,” I noted. “It'll get us there and back.”

“So wait,” Über observed. “We're doing the same costumes? You're going as Armsmaster again?”

I shrugged. “Sure. It fits, right?”

L33t jammed two fingers into his mouth, trying not to laugh out loud. “Holy shit, Hax, you're crazy. Certifiably nuts. Either that, or you've got a set so big they've got their own gravitational pull.”

“Maybe,” I agreed with a grin. “But I'm still doing it. I owe him. You in?”

“I must be just as nuts,” he replied. “But I am fucking not missing this shit.” He turned to Über. “Bro?”

“You're both bug-fuck insane,” Über declared. “There's no way I'm letting you two do this.”

I opened my mouth to protest; then he grinned. “Without me, that is.”

I shook my head. “You suck. You had me going.”

L33t grinned and bro-fisted him, then engaged in a complicated handshake ritual. I watched carefully, then did my best to copy it. It took three tries, and lots of laughter, before I got it right.

“Okay, then,” I told them. “This is how we're going to do this.”

<><>​

Timeline B4

“Here's the thing,” I told Coil. “We talked over your offer. We've thought about it long and hard.”

In point of fact, I had spoken to my Dad on the phone, and both Alibi and I had done some console gaming with the boys while the meal was cooking. We hadn't done much talking, except in the work rooms, so that he couldn't overhear us.

We were unanimous on one thing; no matter how tempting the money was, there was no way to ensure that Coil would come through on any deal we made with him. It was, in fact, almost a certainty that he would harbour some level of animosity. To have someone with Coil's level of power as an active enemy … none of us wanted that.

“So what was your decision?” he asked. No note of hopefulness. Just a certain level of surety. Almost boredom.

“What was the word we arrived at?” I pretended to ask. “Oh, right. 'Nope'.”

He sighed, managing to sound like a teacher who was mildly aggravated at a less than bright pupil. “You do realise that you're making a bad mistake.”

<><>​

Timelines B2, B4

“Your mistake,” I told him, “was snatching Taylor Hebert in place of me.”

“But you are Taylor Hebert,” he insisted.

“No, she isn't,” Alibi chimed in. “I'm Taylor. I'm not going to tell you who she is, but she's not me.”

“Damn right,” I added, deliberately talking over the last few words that she was saying, so that Coil would be in no doubt that two people had been speaking. “I'm Hax, and don't you forget it.”

“You saw us, you idiot,” Alibi insisted. “You abducted me, and Über and L33t and Hax came in to save me. Or don't you remember that bit?”

I held my breath, hoping that he would buy it. With any luck, he would never hit the Brockton Bay crime scene again, but I didn't need someone as dangerous as him wanting to track me or my Dad down for vengeance.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “I was so fucking sure.”

“Yeah, well, that and a buck fifty won't even get you a coffee any more,” Über retorted. “Hax, you ready to roll?”

“Just about,” I told him.

Alibi and I went into my workroom, and I locked the door. Quickly, we swapped clothing, and I gave her my RFID bracelets. She put on my goggles, and I took the glasses she had been wearing. It was a bit of a jolt, just to have those light things on my face after so long wearing the goggles, but I figured I would manage. Alibi dabbed some foundation on my face to hide the goggle-marks around my eyes, then she stepped back up to the now-charged armour.

“Armsmaster is a dick,” she enunciated, and the armour wrapped around her, just as it had around me. I looked her over, then had her activate the Armsmaster holocloak. It looked good, especially after she picked up the halberd and attached it to her back.

Together, we walked out to where Über and L33t waited with Coil; the boys had donned their PRT uniforms once more, and held the crime lord between them. He had been relieved of the bag and the duct tape, but hung limply all the same; L33t was just re-holstering my wireless taser.

“Okay,” I told them through Alibi. “Let's do this.”

She folded one strong arm around my shoulders, and the other around the trio. At my command, the teleport disc energised, and we vanished.

<><>​

Timeline F2

“We've thought your offer over.” Über's voice was resonant, easy to pick. “And we've got some additional conditions.”

“Name them.” Coil was in a mood to be magnanimous. “Extra money? Sure, why not. I can double it. Triple it.”

“... huh. Yeah, triple cash sounds good. We'll take that. Plus our salary automatically doubles at the end of the first year. No negotiation needed. Just plain doubles.”

“That's doable,” Coil agreed. It's not like you'll survive till the end of the year, you moron. “Anything else?”

“Yeah.” It was L33t's voice, coming from the other side. “Just one thing. Go to hell. You can do that for us, right?”

The boot caught him in the ribs with stunning force, causing him to curl up involuntarily against the pain, not an easy thing to do with his hands taped behind his back. And then Über got him from the other side, even harder, driving the breath from his body. He felt ribs go; the pain was excruciating. And he couldn't even scream.

Broken teeth were scattered in his mask, and he was coughing blood, when the assault finally finished. He was sure that at least one arm was broken, and his hands had been stamped on.

Über, panting a little, spoke to him then. “Just one more thing, you sonovabitch. Hax is our partner. You hurt her, you hurt us. It's Über, L33t and Hax, and don't you ever fucking forget it.”

Coil spat blood and dropped the timeline.

<><>​

All Timelines

We appeared on the roof of the PRT building. Alibi, in the armour, strode toward the roof entrance, with me at her side. Behind us, Über and L33t dragged Coil's semi-conscious body between them.

Genuine guards, posted on the roof, spotted us, and came to meet us.

“Sir,” one addressed Armsmaster. “We didn't know you were coming in. That flare – was that you?”

Alibi nodded. “Yes,” she confirmed. It was creepy, how much she sounded like him. “I heard about the Hebert girl. Followed a lead. Found her.”

“You're being a little too clipped,” Über advised me, via Alibi, over our radio channel. “Loosen up a little. You're not a robot.”

“Uh, yes, sir,” the guard responded. “Who is that – is that -”

“Coil, yes,” 'Armsmaster' told him. “He was the one who abducted her. Possibly to do with the Winslow event. In any case, I located Ms Hebert, here, in his base, took him down, and brought them out again.”

It was a measure of Armsmaster's sheer reputation that neither of them questioned this. Nor did they spot the tiny hovering ball up there in the darkness, filming the whole show.

One of them turned to me. “And you're willing to testify to this, Ms Hebert?”

I nodded, pretending the shakes. “Yes. Definitely. That bastard had me abducted right off the bus. In broad daylight.” My voice rose. “I want him put away. Forever.”

“Ms Hebert is fifteen years old,” Alibi put in. “A minor.”

“Christ,” one of the guards muttered. “Okay, sir, we'll just call this in and you can give your report -”

“Actually, I'm very busy right now,” 'Armsmaster' told him. “But I'll hand in my report later; you can be sure of that.” 'He' turned to me and solemnly shook my hand. “Take care, Ms Hebert,” 'he' told me.

“I will,” I assured 'him'. “And thank you so much for helping me.”

Leaving Coil twitching on the ground, 'Armsmaster' stepped back, along with the faux guards. “I would shield your eyes, if I were you,” 'he' suggested. A moment later, the multi-hued flash lit up the rooftop for one actinic second, sending stark shadows in all directions. And then it was gone, and so were they.

I watched as the guards picked Coil up, and began to carry him toward the roof entrance. There was the faintest crackle of a radio, as one of them began to call it in. I wanted so very much to laugh out loud, but of course I couldn't.

<><>​

Über lay on the floor of the base, laughing hysterically. Nearby, L33t was just as bad, rolling from side to side, still in his PRT uniform, whooping with hilarity.

But it was Alibi, who had been just barely capable of exiting the Hax battle armour, who was laughing loudest of all. I could not allow myself to be seen laughing in my real body, so she/I laughed instead.

And laughed.

And laughed.

<><>​

Contessa tapped on the keyboard and shut the screen down. Picking up the empty popcorn bag, she scrunched it into a ball and threw it over her shoulder. It rebounded off of two walls, and landed neatly in the trash can.

Alexandria rolled her eyes. Showoff. “So,” she asked as Contessa got up to go, “I will admit that it was amusing as hell, but was all that necessary to saving the world, or was it just fun for the sake of fun?”

Contessa smiled enigmatically. “Yes.”


End of Part Seventeen

[Author's Note: For those confused by the timeline splitting, here's a flowchart.]

Spoiler: flowchart

Part Eighteen