Well, it's certainly quiet in here... TIME FOR A NEW CHAPTER!
Today, we leave the Merchants be for a moment while we deal with hamburgers, barbeque sauce and a certain teenager's inability to stop thinking about weapons of mass destruction. Ain't life grand?
Anyway, sorry about the delay, it looks like the once a week plan for updates might have been a bit optimistic on my part. The next chapter shouldn't take quite as long. The chapter has been beta'd by Wobulator, for which he receives eternal gratitude!*
*note: eternity not guaranteed. Duration may be restricted to 'until Songless forgets about it and/or you have outlived your usefulness'. See terms and conditions for details.
2.4
"Dad? I think the first of our guests has arrived at the door!"
Ah. Taylor must have spotted someone approaching the house with one of those sensor things. It was still a little creepy to him, how his daughter could keep track of everything that was going on around her nowadays. She was trying so hard to be a hero, but between school and the long nights, she was running herself ragged. Even if she was happier than before, she was almost always tired now. He could see it, even though she tried to hide it day after day.
Opening the door, he stepped outside to greet the first of the Dockworkers to arrive for the barbeque. Alexander's scowling stopped him short however, an exaggerated look of distrust on the bulky man's face. He raised one of his hands, accusingly pointing a single finger at Danny.
"Who are you?"
"Alexander, what...?"
"Who are you and what've you done with the real Danny? Five years now, you've had that broken step leading up to your door, n' the real you would never have fixed that thing. Mind control? Alien body snatcher? Did you join the secret government conspiracy now, gonna kidnap us in our sleep?"
"Hah, if only. Maybe the mayor would actually listen to me if I pulled out my secret spook ID. But how do you know about that, hmm? You here to test my loyalty?"
Silence. A twitching eye, a slightly trembling mouth. The two men kept staring at each other for a few moments more, each trying to be the last to drop the facade until they finally gave up and started laughing.
"Seriously, Danny. It's good to see you care about things again. I've missed the old you. Plus, the house could use a few fixes. Maybe you can even get that car of yours road-worthy again!"
"Actually, it's Taylor who's doing most of the work. She's been going around fixing things up, a little bit each day. I've mostly been doing support like getting tools and supplies. We're thinking of re-painting the house, but with the weather as it is now, we're going to wait until summer so we don't have to worry about the rain. I don't think I'll trust her with the car just yet."
She'd probably add laser cannons behind the headlights if I did.
Heading back inside, he led Alexander to the kitchen as the man lugged a large shopping bag with him. Burgers, ribs and a crate of beer were stacked on top of the counter, the first of the preparations for the barbeque. One of the conditions for the party had been that every guest brought a bit of food with them, because there was no way the Heberts could store enough at home. Not to feed several dozen guests with the appetite the dockworkers, at any rate.
"I've got some lighter fluid in the car, too, but I didn't know if you need some. Is your barbeque a coal and embers deal or one of those fancy ones with gas?"
"Oh, I don't know. We don't have one ourselves, Gregory's bringing his instead. Leave it for now, we'll see if we need it when he gets here."
"Ah, that works, too. Oh, feel free to open a bottle while we wait for the rest, I'll just put... huh. New Fridge?"
"Yeah. It's one of the newer types, more power efficient and such so it should help with the bills a bit. The uhhh... last one broke down a while back."
'Breaking down' was putting it rather mildly. The fridge had been fairly old and was nearing the end of it's life already, and he'd been keeping an eye out for an affordable replacement for a while now. The final nail in the appliance's coffin was that most fridges don't survive being gutted by a desperate fifteen-year old Tinker in need of parts for her first project.
"Eh, as long as it works I guess. Bit smaller than I expected, we might not have enough room for the food and beer together. Drinks in the sink so they stay cool? Like I said, grab one if you like."
Opening one of the bottles and taking a gulp, he filled the sink with water so they could start cooling the unopened bottles and helped Alexander put the meat in the fridge. The only things he'd bought himself were a few bottles of soda for Taylor and any of the guests that had to drive, and ingredients for making a salad. The dockworkers weren't the kind to go out of their way when shopping for a barbeque, so while there would be no shortage of meat-related products it was very unlikely that any of them would bring anything even remotely resembling healthy food.
"So, got any time to show me around? Show off the new and improved casa d'Hebert? Speaking of which, where's Taylor? Can't be applauding you if your girl's the one who's done all the fixing around here."
"I think she's upstairs, working on her homework or something. She'll be down in a minute, once more of the guests arrive."
'Homework.' That's what they were calling it now. Homework, as opposed to 'school work'. Checking stakeout locations, tracking down dealers and muggers, hunting for new targets for New Wave. Ever since she'd put that... computer... inside her head, he hadn't seen Taylor do homework at all. Everything happened at night now, at least while she still had to do repairs to the house, to keep up appearances. Wake up, go to school. Come back miserable and do some repairs around the house, then disappear into her room for her cape activities. Her real homework was apparently pushed down to well past midnight. He didn't even know how long she slept these days, she went to sleep after him and was already awake by the time he woke up.
After the barbeque today, would she disappear into her room during the day as well, immersed in cape business? He helped sometimes, when she was making big decisions with New Wave or when there was a fight, but he worried. They talked more, nowadays, but they still didn't really talk. They'd drifted apart, and the gap wasn't closing. When this was over, when she could leave Winslow and the bullies behind, have a chance at a more normal life again... would she even take it? Would she still be his daughter?
Or would there be nothing left but Revenant?
=======================================================================
I walked among the dockworkers, heading back inside to get another pack of burgers and chicken drumsticks for the barbeque. I wasn't very social nowadays, and I felt better when I had something to do. I'd decided on being a hostess of sorts, letting me move around and talk to people but keeping the opportunity to leave when I chose to, instead of forcing myself into awkward smalltalk with people I didn't know all too well. I recognized many of their names, of course, but there were only a handful of people I actually knew. Kurt and Lacey, Alexander, James. People who'd been all but part of their extended family over the years even if they didn't see each other all that often. Long-time friends.
Stupid skank, no wonder nobody's friends with her.
It hadn't hit me until I had come downstairs earlier today to start welcoming all the arriving guests. The Dockworkers Union was an entire community in itself, and they'd faced hardships much like I had. The difference was that while I'd kept everything to myself, they'd always sought support from each other. Between the gangs, the recession and the Ship Graveyard, the dockworkers were facing down a complete loss of their livelihoods yet they didn't try to endure without help.
In some way, I was changing more to be like them, now. Making connections, finding ways to get out of a situation I was powerless to change myself. I couldn't talk cape business with any of them of course, but New Wave and I were warming up to eachother even if some of their group didn't always like what the rest was doing. Even if their team didn't quite trust me entirely, the younger members had enthusiastically started using my information, all but begging me for more. Surprisingly, the injuries Panacea and especially Laserdream had suffered during that first night out hadn't stopped them at all. Panacea didn't always come out during the raids, but said anything to stop the dealers from putting people in the hospital was a good thing. Laserdream was incredibly blasé about her leg, and merely said she'd use it to get even by kicking the next Merchant she caught.
I didn't ask how hard or where.
Over the last week, I had managed to find another two drug stashes and one of those was already taken down with the help of some superpowered muscle. Manpower had insisted the group used disposable phones from now on, still angry about the loss of his own phone during the last battle.
We were leaving the other stash alone for now, so I could spy on it and find some more leads on other locations. We hadn't found Squealer and Skidmark yet, and they were the big prize I was looking for. Take them down, the Merchants collapse.
A bit earlier, I overheard one of the Dockworkers had actually heard about the Merchant shipment, but hadn't been able to do anything about it. I'd tried to track it down after I overheard the guards at the first storehouse, but without success. And here I was at a barbeque hearing information I couldn't find with all my tinkertech put together. Saying it was frustrating didn't come even close to doing it justice. They'd still slipped through my fingers, even after I'd spent hours flying my drone along the coast, dodging anyone that might spot me and while hoping to spot the shipment as they were unloading.
Such a loser. What do you think she does all day? Trying to scrape together enough for her next fix?
Nah, she's standing in front of the mirror checking her fashion sense, trying to find new ways to look even uglier. A look that bad has to take effort, but she practices every day!
The rest of my nights, I spent trying to untangle the designs in my head, to figure out how they worked and what each part was used for. I'd managed to find a self-repair system so any new drones I built should be able to fix themselves in time, but I still hadn't found a way around my other problem: my lack of useable firepower, or rather my excess of it. Despite the many hours I'd spent going over my schematics, I still hadn't succeeded in finding a way to modify a weapon so it wouldn't vaporize anything I shot. The earlier idea of simply ramming people with the-
"Hey, Tay. Need some help getting food for the barbeque?
"Oh, hey Alexander. Yeah, sure, give me a hand. I think everyone's been skipping breakfast for today with how hungry they are. Ummm... you carry the next batch of sausages and I'll get some more beer and a new jar of BBQ sauce?"
Pushing my designs and strategies to the back of my mind, I headed into the kitchen with him. I set out to collect all the stuff, trying to guess how much we'd need to fill the barbeque. A handful of beer bottles joined the food and Alexander poked me in my back.
"Actually, I think we've almost run out of coals for the barbeque, too. Danny said there should be some here, can you point me there so I can start carrying? You take care of the food for now, it's probably a bit lighter."
"Oh, yeah we still have some of those from when our old barbeque broke. We've got it somewhere, ahhh... basement, I think?"
Crap. The same basement where I had my generator, two construction drones and an old engine block that would be halfway through disintegration for mass by now.
I leaped past him to block off the basement door before he reached it. "Wait, no no nononono, don'tgointhere!"
"Wow, easy there Tay. I can handle a spider or two, no need to worry about me."
"No, no, the basement's where we've got all our working gear and it's an enormous mess. Umm... I worked on the house so it would look nice again, I don't want to ruin it all when you see what's down there. It's... not pretty."
Raising one eyebrow, he warily eyed the door behind me. He obviously didn't really know what to think of this.
"Ooookay, if you say so, girl. We'll still need some more coal though. You good getting it?"
"I'll get the coal if you can carry the meat and drinks back outside. I'm a big girl now, I'm sure I can carry a bag of coal on my own!"
Okay, yeah. If that wasn't cringe-worthy I don't know what is. Note to self: don't try using jokes and one-liners when I'm out hero-ing. I don't want to become the next Mouse Protector, or worse, someone like Uber and Leet.
Oh for Scion's sake... delete note you stupid computer!
Alexander didn't seem to have noticed my mental flailing around, fortunately. Shrugging, he went back into the kitchen to pick up the food I'd already taken out of the fridge. Sighing, I turned around and unlocked the basement's door. One crisis averted, but still...
Downstairs, I looked around for the coals as the basement was lit up by a construction drone dismantling the old engine block. Eventually, I found it lying half hidden against the corner between the wall and my generator. The machine was a four-foot tall vaguely hexagonal box, my recognizable ominous-red-and-black color scheme inter-spaced with a handful of glowing white bits. A faint smell of ozone surrounded the generator, and every so often sparks would arc between tines at the top of the device. It was my first dedicated power supply, and it somehow powered my sensors and drones even if they were half a city apart. When I looked at it, a brief message flashed across my vision.
I'll need to build a new generator soon. If my power supply ran out, I wouldn't be able to power all my sensors anymore and I'd probably lose any marks on units and tracked criminals. I was coming up on the limit of what I could do right now without expanding somewhere, maybe it would be better to move my units somewhere safer? Was there even somewhere safe in Brockton Bay?
Grabbing the half-full bag of coal, I ran back upstairs in case Alexander might try to come down anyway. Upstairs, I quickly closed the door and noted he had apparently already gone back outside.
The 'party' was still in full swing, empty bottles and plastic dinnerware slowly taking over the small backyard. Dodging past a few groups of dockworkers with a few mumbled greetings, I made my back to the barbeque.
"...heard about Gerry. What's this city coming to that those two gamer fools have jobs for people but the Dockworkers Union doesn't? This world is going down the crapper so fast they can hear the sonic boom over in Aleph, and Brockton Bay's leading the rush."
"I know. I just wish I'd been a bit faster, might have been able to get a few jobs out of the Hansson deal."
"Don't blame yourself for it, Danny. Even if you did manage to get the contract, the Empire would have interfered anyway. It's too big for them not to, and unless you make sure there's only white people working there..."
"Yeah, it's just... what do we do about it? Oh, hey kiddo. Here for another burger?"
"Ugh, no, dad. If I eat any more I don't think I'll be able to walk anymore. I might have to start exercising just to stop myself from becoming a couch potato after all the food from today! Actually, that might be a good idea anyway. If the repair work around the house taught me anything it's that I've got no endurance whatsoever."
"Well, we can't have that, can we? If you're ever going to follow in your dad's footsteps, you're gonna need some muscle!"
The man, Duncan, I think, followed it up by an over-the-top flourish, showing off his own sizable biceps.
"I certainly hope you're not trying to flirt with my daughter there, seeing how you're older than me."
"Oh, you wound me Danny! All said, there's not much future in being a dockworker, with the Graveyard it's a dying profession around here. Might be better if she goes into something more intelligent like her mom. Helps keep her away from old geezers like us, too!"
I stayed to chat for a bit and help with the coal before heading back into the crowd with the excuse of collecting bottles and getting another soda for myself. It was calming, somehow. To be a part of the group here, to be acknowledged but not really noticed. Quiet, despite the noise and the people. No pressures, no social mind games like at Winslow.
It gave me some more time to think, about my power, my plans. I'd already had plans for getting rid of the Ship Graveyard once the gangs wouldn't interfere, but there was more to Brockton Bay than that. Simply opening up seaside access again wouldn't bring back the lost jobs. Would it even matter, when shipping was dying a slow death as Leviathan hit more and more coastal cities?
Even then, why wait until the gangs were gone? Once the Merchants were taken out, I hoped to have enough influence and trust with New Wave to confront the Protectorate. After that, I didn't have nearly as much reason to keep my actions hidden. Why not attack the gangs from a different direction? If I can improve the economy somehow, create jobs for the people here, crime rates will drop even without having to fight the gangs directly.
But that meant creating jobs, enough jobs to make an impact in a city this big. Unlike most Tinker powers, mine let me mass-produce advanced technology so it might be doable. Could I sell my designs, establish a company here in the city? For that matter, would I? Everything I had was weapons, I couldn't build much else. Unless I wanted to become some sort of rogue arms dealer...
This week only: 50% off all strategic artillery cannons?
I might be able to do something with my power generators or mass fabricators, maybe... but most of all I really need a better understanding of what I can do with my designs other than just shoot things.
=======================================================================
Cleaning up after the barbeque took most of the evening, though I didn't mind too much. I was slowly making my way through the pile of dishes that had accumulated over the day, while dad was busy collecting all the trash into a couple of large garbage bins. I might not need as much sleep anymore with my modifications, but I could definitely still feel tired.
"I'm thinking about going to bed early tonight, get some rest befo-ooouugh."
A yawn prevented me from finishing. Dad just shook his head while I slowly blinked at him. I considered going for a glare, but I already had to spend effort to keep my eyes open in the first place so I doubt I'd have struck a very intimidating figure.
"Yeah, it's been a busy day. Are you going to skip the night-time hunting tonight? You said you weren't planning anything with New Wave because of the barbeque, but you've been really determined about it. I wish you could just relax for once."
"I'll relax when I've got enough influence to force the PRT's hand and get out of school. Anything before that is just... more pain."
"And what happens when you have a breakdown because you can't unwind? You need something to keep you going, to keep your mind off of Winslow, Taylor. You can't be a student and a hero non-stop!"
Setting down the bag he was carrying, dad briefly rubbed his eyes.
Just look at today. We've had a great evening with everyone, and I'm willing to bet you spent half the time immersed in your robot display or whatever you call it. Wasn't it nice to just have everyone over again? Some of the guys haven't been here in years. Got a few chuckles out of showing the house, too, just the paint and some work on the fence outside, right? You've done a pretty good job so far. Fighting criminals isn't the only thing you can be proud of."
"Actually, about that... The workshop downstairs is a problem. I think I should move my machinery out of the house, as long as it's here there's a chance people might find out about it. Especially if we have guests like today."
"I suppose that makes sense. Time to move out of your parents' basement, huh? But again, it's about capes."
"You know what I mean. It's not safe here, I don't want to take the risk anymore. What if someone spots one of the drones flying off? We've been making long-term plans for clearing out the Ship Graveyard, but I'm sure I can hide a few generators and some construction drones there until I'm ready to do that. It should be enough to keep expanding my sensor grid out in the city itself."
"You sure about that? The graveyard isn't as empty as most people might think, homeless people live there, and there's the occasional smuggling there as well."
"I'll be careful, I don't have to get a place that's very accessible. The construction drones themselves are water proof so I might be able to use that to my advantage."
I fidgeted a bit. No time like the present, but this idea... he'd probably not like it very much. Still, no time like the present.
"There's also something else I thought of earlier. Especially after you say I can't be a hero all the time. I'd like to... I'd like to give you an implant like mine."
"What? Taylor, I don't- why? I'm not a cape, and I don't think I'd want to be one if I got the choice! I have no idea how any of your machines work, why would I want to put a computer in my head for that?"
"It's not just for the machines, dad. You... you said you didn't really understand what was going on anymore with my cape activities, with an implant you can see everything that's happening without having me tell you about it. You can help me, for real, and it can do so much more! You can think faster, you'll be better at math, better memory. You can even use the mental acceleration to read pages of paperwork in only a few seconds or keep recordings of contracts to compare when you're negotiating with possible employers. It's... it could make a difference, dad. For you."
"You're blackmailing me with the Association now?"
I didn't respond. I knew it was a dirty move, using his own sense of duty to the Dockworkers Association against him, but even then, I was till being honest. This could change things. With the size of my designs, everything else I did would become too obvious in time. The implants, on the other hand, could give a major advantage to anyone that used them. I might even offer them to New Wave, eventually. Super reflexes would help for sure, and maybe they could use help with aiming their lasers, too. Not yet, though, not until I could be sure they were trustworthy. Emma taught me all to well the dangers of being too trusting. Right now, dad was the only one I trusted to at least try to do right, and we were drifting apart.
"I guess some of that negotiating must have rubbed off on you. Fine. I'll think about it. Not saying 'yes', mind you, but I'll..."
He sighed, a worn-out, tired sound.
"I'll think about it."
Yep, but in most games the part where you magically create unlimited soldiers/orcs/super-rare mythical beasts out of thin air by paying some cash is just gameplay and not based on reality. In SupCom, it's not only reality but actually (sort-of) justified with the robotic/AI nature of the armies and bullshit level of construction technology.
In other news... have a chapter! In this episode of 'Brockton Bay goes down the drain', our valiant heroine Taylor takes her first steps on the happy path of ESCALATION! Also, the resident miracle worker deals with her issues by daydreaming about lots and lots of violence.
Oh don't be like that, I'm sure they'll both be fine. What's the worst that could happen?
2.5
Darkness stretched out before my vision, the stranded ships' dim shapes illuminated by the moonlight. The sound of the waves from the shoreline past the rusted wrecks was occasionally drowned out by the groaning of the ships as they shifted and strained in the wind.
When the port closed down the area had been cut off from the power grid, leaving the Ship Graveyard perpetually dark. The only ones that came here now were the homeless, the criminal and the lost.
And for the foreseeable future, it would be my home away from home. What did that say about me, I wonder?
Ordering the construction drone I brought to keep flying at high altitude, I directed my combat drone to drop closer to ground with its cargo. The carried sensor brought a reasonable portion of the area into range, but it wasn't even close to big enough to encompass all of it. I would need to make a number of passes to see where the safest areas would be.
Here and there, isolated icons blinked across my tactical view. A few larger groups were around as well, most at the edge of the Ship Graveyard nearer to the Market and Trainyard. Probably homeless people huddled together to share resources. Possibly gang members, but I didn't bother checking. Tonight I wasn't looking for enemies, I was looking for safety.
There were plenty of ships around for me to use, but I was looking for something specific. Once I started building, I wouldn't be able to easily move my tech, so I only really had one chance at this and I had to get a good location. My new remotely controlled workshop would have to be concealed and out of the way, to prevent discovery. I'd need enough space to construct new drones, sensors and other machinery so most leisure boats were out already. And finally, there had to be a way for my drones to move in and out of the workshop without drawing attention.
I'd briefly considered building everything underground, but I had no idea how to do that and even then I would still need some kind of access hatch. The only way I'd seen to make that work was by covering the entire hatch with sand, but ultimately I'd decided against it because of the risks. Plus, with my luck I'd probably hit a water pipe and flood half my space right after I finished building everything I wanted.
After about an hour and a half of scouting, I had a reasonable estimate of where most of the high risk areas were. Deciding I'd seen enough, I headed back towards the coastline, to a smaller cargo ship at one of the piers that I'd found during my patrol. It was half-sunken, no doubt from disuse and perhaps some vandalism, with the aft section of the ship buried into the silt underwater. Several holes could be seen between the barnacles that covered the mangled hull, and rotting pieces of rope still hung across the railing and the ship's deck. It was old, rusted, thoroughly disgusting and useless for anything other than ruining the view. In other words, it was perfect for my goals.
Making sure there were no wanderers nearby, I had my drone fly over to the waterline so I could try to scan the ship for a rough outline of the interior. As the sensor turned its full power onto the ship, I lost the tactical view of the surrounding area and I felt distinctly uneasy without the security of my area awareness. A few moments later, a virtual wire frame of the corridors and rooms inside filled my tactical view line by line. The bridge of the ship was still above water, along with parts of the corridors and one of the cargo holds, but the rest was almost entirely flooded.
I called down the construction drone hidden high above, and set out to prepare my new workshop. The best bet was probably the aft cargo hold, which was currently entirely under water. The engine room further down was another possibility, but I would have to get rid of the engines first. Hmm, maybe I could reclaim those for raw materials later.
If I did this right, nobody would try and break in because everything above my area was already flooded. I just had to make an airtight seal around the room to trap air inside, and get a hole in the hull underneath so my drones could enter and leave. It was a bit restricting in what I could build, and I would have to modify any drones and sensors I built from now on so they could survive the short trip underwater, but I had plenty of naval schematics to draw on for modifications. The original designs for the construction drones were already waterproof so my smaller versions wouldn't even need any changes.
On second thought, maybe it was better if I sealed the underwater entrance every time I didn't need it. I could build walls of some sort that were made of a material more like highly resilient foam than solid bricks. It made them very, very cheap for their volume, so maybe I could use that to create an expendable barrier instead of having to worry about building remotely operated airlocks, doors or something similar. It would cost me a small amount of resources every time I had to open it, but the longer I thought about it the more convenient it sounded. I also made a note to get a sonar installation up and running so I could detect anyone brave or foolish enough to try and enter from underwater. Better safe than sorry, after all.
I had my construction drone dive down to check the ship from underwater and see if it could fit inside somewhere. The ship had a number of dents and small tears in the hull, but nothing that would easily let my drone enter the ship from underwater. No other choice, then... I had to make my own entrance. Positioning my drone to face the part of the ship that I hoped was the least visible from on top of the docks, I prepared to start reclaiming.
Time to get to work, generic doombot-building drone number one. Make your commander proud.
=======================================================================
By the time the dawn started coloring the sky in reds and purples, I'd already brought my second construction drone over from the house to help with the construction efforts. One drone was finishing the last touches on the wall barriers to keep the engine room closed while the other was slowly reclaiming the engines themselves for mass. The newly built wall segments should keep the doors leading from the corridors to the cargo hold and engine room from opening, and it would hopefully be enough to keep out any but the most persistent 'guests'. The hole in the hull that I brought my drones through was damaged a bit further by ramming it with my combat drone, so it wouldn't look too artificial. Unless I made some major mistakes nobody would ever set foot in here, not even me.
With the walls finished, I started draining the rooms of water by having one of my construction drones reclaim the water inside. No longer needing the mass for the walls, the other drone was ordered into building a third construction drone, both to put the reclaimed mass to use and because I suspected I could improve my production speed quite a bit with the easy availability of mass in the Ship Graveyard. The process was very slow, the reclaimed water didn't provide a lot of useful material although I didn't really understand why. The yield wasn't directly linked to raw mass and seemed to work better for materials like steel, but my drones didn't appear to be built of the materials I'd reclaimed to build them. Some sort of system to transform one element into another? Whatever the case, my reclamation systems obviously weren't meant for using water.
Thanks, power.
After the water level inside had dropped enough, I'd set my reclaim drone to alternate between reclaiming materials from the water and engines and constructing a second generator above the waterline. A few minutes later, warning messages flashed across my tactical view as the starting frame for the generator began to slide and crumble. I'd had to start over, but fortunately I hadn't lost too much time and resources. As it turns out, I couldn't build my designs on a sloped surface. For the second attempt I simply put a flat metal plate on the floor, supported by some wall material, to create a level surface for my other machines.
By the time I started making breakfast for myself and dad, I'd set up additional construction orders for my drones. Over the next few days, they would continue to work on draining the water and building some more units, including a sensor unit to keep track of everyone in the areas around the workshop. A fourth construction drone and a third generator would follow after that. When those were completed, I could reclaim the generator at home and remove the last risks of someone learning of my identity that way. Once that was done, I would bury one of my construction drones under the seabed until I needed it as a hidden backup, in case my other units were destroyed.
I'd also started work on a new design to be carried by my main drone, something that wasn't meant to support my slowly growing sensor grid.
While New Wave told me a lot of cape battles didn't result in arrests, being forced to let the Merchant tank simply drive off didn't sit well with me. Mush had been a pretty good consolation prize, but Squealer... the amount of collateral damage she'd caused after her arrival was enormous. Now that I knew how dangerous she could be, she was my main priority. I was still tracking down drug stashes and weapon caches, but what I really wanted to find was the workshop where she built her vehicles. The last fight with Squealer, we'd been badly out-gunned. The next time I wanted to face the criminal Tinker, I had to be ready.
My plans for tomorrow: Weapons testing.
=======================================================================
"Do I have your permission to heal you?"
"Yeah, yeah, go ahead, girl."
Amy reached out to touch the man's hand, keeping her irritation at his words from showing on her face. Just a girl, nothing special, never mind she's getting you out of this hospital bed for free. Let's see...
Metastases in his liver, lower intestine and right femur, spread out from the original lung cancer. Tar and other chemical residues in his lung tissue. Chronic irritation in his trachea. Hypertension. Nearly blocked carotid artery, plaque in other blood vessels, but no more than expected from someone of his age. Moderate kidney damage, as well as liver damage beyond the cancer itself. Early stage pressure wound in...
Typical prognosis for a long-term smoker in a hospital bed, and a few extra issues to boot. Not the pack-a-day type, but still, that's another idiot who needs to be fixed because he couldn't be bothered to live his life with even the smallest amount of common sense. Well, at least it wasn't another junkie. Cigarettes were a really stupid idea, but at least they were legal.
"I'm removing the cancer now. I can't remove all the residue from the smoking, there's a lot of inorganic crap in there that can't be absorbed by the body. You've got a good chance your lungs will never work as good as a healthy person's. If you're still smoking, you should stop immediately or it's just gonna get worse."
She watched the man sink back a bit into the hospital bed, and her power felt his heartbeat speed up. That fear should keep him out of here for a little while, hopefully. No need for him to know she used her power to remove most of the tar in his lungs anyway, she just had to get... creative. And that's not something she wanted to broadcast to everyone.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. I've tried to quit before, but it's just..."
"If you're addicted, that's in your brain and I can't change that so look into rehab programs. The hospital can point you in the right direction, ask at the reception maybe."
Letting go of the man's hand, she stood back up and adjusted her robes before heading for the door.
"Right. All finished, on to the next one."
Heading out of the room, it took a few moments for the nurse that accompanied her to catch up. One more patient, then she was taking a break. One more. After that... she didn't feel like heading back home yet, too much shouting with all the disagreements lately. Go out and hit the Merchants, stay back and avoid escalating, that's what being a hero is, no it isn't, cereal for breakfast, sandwiches for breakfast...
The hospital was in fact quieter than the Dallon home now. Yeah, she'd look at the less critical patients, too, today. At least the people here still said 'thank you', sometimes.
"You know, you could spend a little more time with each patient, be a little kinder? A little empathy goes a long way and I'm sure it'll be happier for you as well."
God, how was that woman still so naive? She didn't even know how to answer that. As they walked through the halls of the intensive care unit, the nurse kept trying to make small talk with her, but she honestly didn't really care. This was... ugh, this was so awkward. She must be new, or maybe an intern. None of the ones who've been doing this longer were still that... bubbly. Not when they knew what Brockton Bay could spit out into the E.R. on a bad day. She'd have to ask for a regular nurse next time, or at least a more experienced one. A quiet one.
"Ah, here we are. Ms. Ericson, victim of a car crash. The prognosis is pretty bad, although she's out of immediate danger. Spinal cord injury, partial to full paralysis, little chance of recovery without your assistance. Some other minor injuries too, but that's the one that's just not going to heal on it's own."
"All right, one more miracle coming up I guess."
Heading inside, she was greeted by the sight of a woman in several heavy plaster casts, loudly chatting away on a cell phone with a cracked screen. A doctor stood to the side and turned her way after a moment. He looked... tired. Tired and frustrated, must be the end of his shift.
"Ah, good, you're here. The patient's already been told you're going to help. Good luck."
Luck's got nothing to do with it. Turning to the still talking woman, she began her usual routine.
"Do I have your permission to heal you?"
The woman faced her, briefly holding her phone away but not bothering to hang up. She animatedly waved at her, before briefly twitching into a grimace, presumably from one of her injuries.
"Yeah, get on with it! Hold on- yeah, that New Wave girl is here to fix me. What- no- I know that!"
Christ, what was it with some of these people? Better get this over with, the sooner she was done the sooner she could get out of here. Glancing at the doctor, she saw him roll his eyes and shrug. That's gotta be why he was so tired, it wasn't the job so much as it was the patient, and he'd been stuck here until she arrived to heal her. No doubt having to listen to whatever conversation the woman was having on her phone.
Spinal fracture, nerve damage, numerous cuts and bruises... hmm, might as well get rid of the painkillers, too... wait, traces of Mephedrone? Fuck. A friggin' junkie. Wait... car accident, drug traces... had she been driving while on her high? Driving, while high, and if that cracked screen and her behavior were any indication, while on the phone even?
"Ah, yeah, that's- ow, wait what the fuck? What the fuck?!"
At the woman's outburst, the doctor took a few steps to put himself between the two of them while holding up his hand to try and calm her down.
"Miss, please calm down. I'm sure miss Panacea has done what she could. If something feels wrong, could you explain please? I'm sure it's perfectly fine."
"My legs are all itchy, what the fuck did you do to my legs? What did you do you whore?!"
"Miss, calm down. Your legs have bee-"
"I'll fucking sue you!"
Oh, you ungrateful bitch...
"YOU SHUT THE HELL UP! You're fine, you're healed, and I fixed all that for free! That's the kind of thanks you've got to show for it?! Next time you go and get yourself snapped in half in whatever funk you're in, you go and find yourself another healer!"
Silence fell over the room, the other three inhabitants too shocked to respond. The only sounds were the soft beeps from the equipment around the edges of the room, and the indistinct chatter still coming from the mangled cell phone.
Amy turned around, barreling out through the door and into the hallway and slamming the door behind her. Outside, she slumped against one of the corridor walls, hitting the floor with a soft thud. Lowering her head, her hood dropped in front of her face, obscuring the red of her cheeks. She was better than that, she could take that! She was a hero, damn it! Heroes didn't... didn't...
A few moments later, the nurse followed her back out, her face twisted in a scowl vile enough that it could curdle milk halfway across the city. She was trailed by the voice of the now healed woman, who had regained her composure and was proceeding to direct her vitriol at the unfortunate doctor still inside.
"... take off the casts, too? C'mon, hey doc! Those casts are supposed to come off, do your...!"
The door slammed shut, cutting off the sounds from the drama unfolding inside.
"Christ. What the hell was wrong with her? You'd think they would be grateful but noooo..."
Amy took the hand the young woman offered her, and scrambled back onto her feet. Not looking at the nurse, she took a few moments to compose herself. Once she was confident she wasn't trembling anymore, she turned around to face the nurse.
"You want to go help someone else to cheer you up, maybe one of the kids, or want to catch your breath after that drama in there?"
"Yeah, I ah... I could use a break. Shit, I pretty much broke patient confidentiality there, too. Might as well own up to it, can you let the doctor know she used drugs? Mephedrone, don't see it often but the Merchants might be bringing in new stuff so be ready for possible overdoses. And... I'm sorry for snapping like that, that was... that's not me."
That shouldn't be me.
=======================================================================
Pushing through the double doors leading to the cafeteria, she stopped for a moment to find a table. Visiting times were already past, and there weren't a lot of people here so there was plenty of choice.
"Uhh, you mind if we get a table near the windows?"
"No problem. Here, let me get you a coffee. You're running yourself ragged today. We do appreciate the help, but we'd rather not end up having you as a patient because you don't take care of yourself."
The nurse ran off towards the counter, leaving Amy to claim one of the tables. Sitting down, she watched the lights of Brockton Bay's skyline on the other side of the glass. Medhall's headquarters was visible just at the edge of the window, a towering giant of steel and glass. Several more commercial buildings for companies she didn't recognize or care about, and further away near the horizon, the lights of the Protectorate base out in the bay. No flickering lights from buildings set alight by a dragon, no falling star to further the cause of the Empire's intolerance.
They'd be back, though. If not tonight, then tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after that. What was the point of it all? There'd just be more fights, more damage, more injured for her to patch up and throw back into the meat grinder that was Brockton Bay's daily life. She was the one who spent most of her time using her power, yet in the grand scheme of things... she was possibly the most useless of them all. At least the others still tried to change things for the better with patrols and such, not picking up the metaphorical pieces after everything's done anyway.
A small paper cup was placed before her on the table, and the nurse sat down across from her with a cup of her own.
"Here you go, it's instant so there's no quality to speak of but at least its hot. You look like you could use it. You help people all day, we might as well do something back. Treat people nicely and they treat you back the same and all that. Except that last patient. That was just ridiculous and deserves all the bitching you can dish out."
I've probably been working in the hospital longer than you have. They might not all be that way, but enough are.
Amy forced herself to smile and give the young woman a nod. She was right though, grumpy mood or not she was being a bitch today. It wasn't right for her to share the suffering with the nurse simply because she was one of the few people here that were still happy.
Panacea the hero, shining light of inspiration, politely reminded to not be such a bitch. Yeah, fuck my life.
"That's not it, I just... ugh. You're right. I'm just in a bad mood, I guess. Things have been hectic back at home."
"Oh, with the Merchants and all, right? Were you there when they captured Mush?"
Was she there when they captured Mush? Yeah, sort of. Didn't even do all that much, checked a few of the Merchants and that one girl, got scraped and bruised after running like a coward. All but fell off a roof, then all but fell off an ominous flying robot, too, just to mix it up.
"Yeah. I didn't do much to help though, my job was mostly keeping everyone in one piece and helping with the clean-up."
"Oh, don't feel bad you're not out there fighting, you can still be a hero helping us out. The patients sure think so, even if that last one was kind of a bitch. Can you imagine the gall some of these..."
Feeling the warmth spread through her as she sipped her coffee, she tuned out the noise from the hustle and bustle of the hospital, and the endless chatter of her companion.
She did feel bad about not being out there, somehow. She couldn't go out fighting with the rest of the team, although her power would let her stop almost any opponent with a touch. Nobody really talked about it, but she knew the moment she revealed the full scope of her power she'd just be branded the next Nilbog. A monster, like she felt inside sometimes. She'd been there during the fight with Mush, yet there hadn't been anything she could do to help. It was always too risky for her to be closer to the battles, to do something.
Unless... they were working with a Tinker now. She wasn't quite sure what Revenant could or couldn't build, put maybe there was something he could do to help? Gallant's power wasn't very strong or useful in a battle either, and he could patrol and fight with the Wards because of his power armor. Perhaps... perhaps she could convince Revenant to build a suit like that for her? He definitely had the resources for it, the drone she'd seen him use during the fight looked really impressive and had taken quite the beating without breaking.
All she would need is something to keep her safe, and maybe let her touch her enemies so she could knock them out with a touch. People knew she could do that already, so it wouldn't draw any extra attention to her powers. She could even fight doing nothing but just punching like her sister, after all if she really injured anyone a healer was right there to help, right?
Even better, Revenant's drones could fly, so maybe a suit of armor could do that, too... it would be so good to be able to fly on her own. Never having to worry how to get to the battles where people needed her help.... or even just soar through the sky without being carried all the time. Watch the city below during the sunset, side by side with Vicky...
Yeah, she'd definitely have to ask him. Maybe there was something she could do in return, offer healing for him or his family? She might even manage to meet him in person that way, rather than on the phone or through the drones. Yeah, that could work...
This evening's hospital rounds were a little less depressing as usual, daydreaming keeping the worst of the gloom away for the night.
2.6
One hour left until sundown.
Today had been a little better than usual, and I'd found the energy to keep working on school things for a little while after coming home earlier. There were still the jokes, insults and mocking laughter to deal with, but nothing physical had happened today. One moment in History class, it seemed Madison wanted to prank me, but nothing had come of it.
Perhaps she'd forgotten something for her usual juvenile jokes, like buying extra drinks so she had something to spill. Stealing my work was all but impossible, and she'd stopped trying a little while ago. I'd stopped carrying most of my schoolwork during the day, bringing only a small notebook, whatever I had to turn in, and trusting my implant to keep track of everything else. I'd even received a small compliment from one of the teachers for my 'diligent studying', no doubt thinking I'd studied the part of the book we were working from well enough to memorize it. I suppose I had, in a way. Cybernetics-enhanced photographic memory sure helps, and I hoped beyond hope that the many, many recordings of my tormentors I was collecting might soon become useful as well.
I had only one class after History, and the trio didn't get the chance to do anything after whatever Madison planned didn't pan out. No doubt they'd make me pay for it tomorrow, though, Sophia in particular had been getting restless. With my near-omniscient awareness of everyone in the school, the opportunities for her more physical harassment were fewer than ever and she often didn't bother with the more social aspects of the bullying.
We'd been given a new project to work on for Art today, and if my experience so far told me anything, that was something they would be going after. I can't be seen to succeed, they have to break me down, make me fail in every way. I'd already looked on my timetables for April, checking day it had to be completed. Unfortunately, I had Art class in the afternoon, meaning my project would be at risk for the entire day unless I did something about it.
I'd briefly dreamed of using my tech to create a copy of the entire piece once it was finished, just to see their faces after they ruined the first one. Sadly, with my luck they might realize I'm a cape somehow. Worse, I didn't know how to make copies of other objects with my tech in the first place. I suspected it was possible somehow, but so far I had to create the design for anything I built first and I couldn't just duplicate anything I put in front of my construction drones. In fact, one of the reasons I moved out to the Ship Graveyard was in the hope I could use the surrounding wreckage to find more disguises for my sensors. I didn't want to risk the local scrapyard spotting my drone carrying off yet another air cooler unit or boiler system and I couldn't build more myself.
Fortunately, copying stuff wasn't necessary for now. I had simpler ways available to avoid losing my work.
Set reminder, April 1, 14:00. Ask if I can turn in the art project before school starts, possibly the day before it is due or earlier.
Not a chance in hell I'll let them ruin it. My grades are slowly getting better again, and I need everything I can get before I leave that hellhole and transfer to Arcadia. They want to break me down, ruin everything I do? I can keep this up longer than them, I know they're living on borrowed time. Once the Merchants are finished, I'll have enough pull with New Wave to bring Brandish in for help, and then it's over. Emma might feel safe because Alan is a lawyer, but his boss is on my side now. I've survived months of their tricks, but now that I've got some of my own...
You'll never see me coming.
=======================================================================
"Hey Taylor, mind if I join you for your testing session tonight?"
"Hmm? Oh, hey, you're awake already? Sure. I don't think it's a good idea to let you shoot stuff just yet though, you're... well..."
"A clumsy little cyborg baby, I'm sure. But I have to admit, this is... well, it's amazing. I had no idea it looked... no, that it felt like this when you used your machines."
Dad had finally accepted the implanted upgrades I'd offered. We'd decided on using the excuse of some barbeque leftovers gone bad to avoid suspicions. Some phone calls to the Dockworkers Union (and school so I could skip because I had to take care of him) had made sure nobody would miss either of us while he became my first partner in cyber-heroics.
After he'd become sane enough to understand what was going on again, he'd started trying things out. He didn't seem to have the intuitive understanding of the implant software I had, but I suspected my own Tinker power had given me some sort of boost there so I wasn't too surprised. He'd spent all day trying to come to terms with the visual overlay, tactical views and the many, many different menus and features included in the implant. He'd also been practicing flying the drones while I kept watch in case of emergencies. That had gone fairly well, unlike some other exercises.
At one point, I'd had to remotely signal his implant to revert to its default settings after he screwed up while testing the mental acceleration feature. Watching him twitch after turning the acceleration up to full had been quite funny (and it showed me some extra tells to hide in public), but when he turned it back down he'd turned it all the way down. His discovery that this particular feature couldn't just speed up thinking speed but slow it down to a crawl as well had left him barely able to interact with the world. We'd had a good laugh about it afterward, and I made sure to help him find the part of the system where he could enable or disable features as he wished.
And if he ever decided to joke about my embarrassing behavior during the implant integration process... well, his own fever dreams had left me with blackmail material of my own. His first words after regaining his composure had been "Let us never speak of this again".
I'd agreed, but I didn't delete any of my recordings.
"Good to hear you're still enthusiastic about it, dad, but the feeling does get old after a while. Tracking drug dealers is boring work no matter how you do it."
"Yeah, I guess. I think I'm getting the hang of how to view everything though, so I might be able to take some of the load off your shoulders."
Was he still worried about me, that he'd do that? I didn't want to drag my dad too much into my hero business, but I had to admit it would help.
"I'll show you some more of the tactical view later tonight, you can keep watch while I'm asleep, all right? I'll lock down all the drones and settings so you don't accidentally fly them out in the open, though. I'd like to be there for a bit longer until you can use them on your own. Oh, and you can accept phone calls from New Wave, I guess."
"I suppose I'll have to settle for that, then... anyway, you were hoping to try one of your weapons for your drones, right? Everything ready to go?"
"I think so... I've got three shots to try out, I just hope it's enough. Building these took quite a bit more time and resources than I expected. I'm still scouting the area to make sure we don't have any uninvited guests. See if you can help with that maybe, I've got a construction drone there as well."
Switching back to my tactical view, I made one last check of my surroundings. ...of the drone's surroundings. It was weird, how easily I thought of myself as being whatever machine I was connecting to. It had taken some time to get used to it, but it was less like piloting it anymore and more like a new limb I hadn't had before I installed my implant.
Regardless, with dad's help to check everything it looked like the area was clear. We'd set up shop a ways further inland so even if we were noticed, nobody would track us back to the workshop. A burned out and half-collapsed warehouse would serve as our 'target' for tonight. It may have been destroyed in a skirmish with Lung somehow, if the scorch marks and damage were any indication, though I didn't know for certain and it could have been just a regular fire. Regardless, it was unused, far enough from the waking parts of town that any noise from the weapon tests wouldn't draw too much attention, and remote enough that we wouldn't be disturbed for a little while.
"Looks like it's clear, let's put up the target."
Dad flew his drone up along one of the less damaged walls of the warehouse, dropping off the chunk of meat that would serve as our target on a mostly intact section of roof. After all, I wanted something non-lethal for my fights, so I had to try it out somehow... I don't think many people would volunteer for trying to survive a shot from the kinds of guns I could build.
Dad had simply bought an entire turkey to serve as the test case. We'd looked into buying something larger, but regular supermarkets didn't normally stock portions that were bigger than that. There were some other options we considered, like visiting the more specialized butchers catering to the few Muslims or Hindus still in Brockton Bay despite the Empire, but ultimately we decided against it for one simple reason: specialty shops just cost more. A turkey was at least affordable even outside of Thanksgiving.
Moving his drone back to a safer distance, dad gave me a thumbs up from the other side of the kitchen table.
"First test, full strength against the wall only. I want to know if it works first, I'm saving the turkey for the next shot."
Ordering my combat drone to hover in place, I switched my attention to the newly created weapon drone carried in it's transport clamp. It was technically a completely separate unit, but stripped of everything I didn't need. The end result was a glorified missile rack with a wireless connection, incapable of moving or even aiming without the combat model to carry it. If I needed different weapons in the future, I could probably just build more like these instead of having to build an entirely new drone.
Targeting a section of wall, I switched off the 'Hold Fire' mode and prayed for the best. A deafening shriek erupted from underneath my drone, and a split second later a brilliant orange-red trail appeared between the drone and the impact site. A sizable chunk of the wall around the impact simply... collapsed, having turned to ash before my eyes. I was forced to replay a recording of the shot at slowed speed to even be able to see the projectile itself instead of just the exhaust trail.
A single nanite missile, moving at almost three times the speed of sound before self-destructing and showering the warehouse wall with a cloud of gray dust. Weaponized nano-machines, designed to tear through almost any kind of material in the few moments before their internal energy containment ran out of charge and they fried themselves with the last bit of power they had.
It was the one weapon I'd found that I could maybe turn into a non-lethal option, by restricting the materials it was allowed to damage. I'd spent some time trying to modify the nanites to drop their containment if they ran into anything looking like skin, but I had no idea if it would actually work. Calling my tech's software complicated was an understatement at best, and it had taken me hours to find the bits of code I thought handled activation and deactivation of the nanites. If my changes worked, the best case scenario was that they'd eat through any weapons or armor held by whoever I shot, but leave the person underneath unharmed.
Everything else I'd thought of simply wouldn't work anymore if it was scaled down to smaller than anti-tank grade weapons. Still, based on the newest four-foot hole in the warehouse, it looked like my missiles should have no problem being powerful at least. I could always escalate to more firepower without switching weapons so if the code changes worked this should become a pretty flexible weapon system.
"All right, that looks pretty good. At least the smaller versions of the missile still work as they should. Now let's see how well they deal with organic materials. Second test, ten percent strength, set to ignore organic materials, targeting the turkey."
Selecting my second missile, I ordered it to deactivate ninety percent of the nanites in the payload while switching the rest to my own mangled software. Selecting my new target, I fired my second shot of the night. Much like the first, the missile raced forward until it was destroyed by the nanite cloud just before it hit, but this time the cloud was much smaller. I didn't want to do too much damage, and reducing the active payload would be a good way to weaken each missile's firepower even if I used the regular software.
"All clear, let's take a look."
Dad moved his drone back to the warehouse, taking a closer look at the turkey.
"Well... I've got good news and bad news for you, kiddo. Good news is, it's not going to be lethal to use your missiles like this. Bad news is, unless you get Panacea to help you you'll become known for cooking and flaying people alive."
"What?"
Switching my viewpoint over to that of dad's drone, I was faced with the results of my nanite missile's improvised 'safe' mode. The turkey was still intact, mostly, so the nanites did self-destruct as they should if they ran into organic materials. Unfortunately, the piece of meat was also covered in a thin layer of black-grey ash formed from what used to be the outermost parts. It was also steaming.
"That's... why... oh, damn it, the energy from the self-destruct! That should have been the weapon I could use for regular fights! Come on, why can't I just get one crappy gun for once?!"
I paced back and forth through the kitchen, my frustration and anger refusing to settle down as dad hesitantly reached out to me. The missile had been the only weapon I'd found that I could scale down enough to even hope to be non-lethal, and this was what I got for my efforts?
"Hey, c'mon Taylor. You still have New Wave to help you with that. Look on the bright side, maybe it's a better idea anyway to not start shooting people?"
I didn't even bother responding with anything more civilized than an incomprehensible grumble, stomping out of the kitchen so I could take a shower and maybe calm down a bit before I went to bed. Damn it all.
The last thing I did before going to bed that night was order the pair of drones out towards the ocean so they could hide for the day. When they departed, I sent my last missile out towards the warehouse to vent my frustration. Another four-foot cloud of dust blossomed out onto the wall and roof, consuming old bricks, rusted metal and a partially fried turkey. My vengeance didn't leave me feeling much better.
=======================================================================
The next morning, I started on breakfast while the sky outside was still the dark blue from just before the sunrise. I was making pancakes today, I was still feeling grumpy and I hoped it would cheer me up. Worrying about what pranks the girls would try today as payback for their failure yesterday didn't help either.
Dad was sitting on the couch, having apparently decided to get some more old fashioned stuff to help while he kept an eye on the sensor grid. He was slowly going over an old map of Brockton Bay held down with the almost-empty teapot and our cookie jar. I didn't really feel like talking, so I simply kept myself busy in the kitchen until I'd finished my baking. It wasn't until I sat down at the table to eat my breakfast that dad joined me, a big grin on his face.
"Pancakes, huh?"
"Oh hush, you. I need something to handle the bad news from yesterday, and unlike you I won't simply go through all the cookies in the house. You slob."
"You wound me, Taylor! I've only had a few, there's plenty left. No need to be so glum about it. In fact, I think you should liven up a bit, be happy! It's a wonderful morning!"
Seriously, what was up with him this morning? Can't he see that I'm not in the mood for that nonsense? If he's bringing out the dad jokes next, he's not getting any pancakes. But really, this was... weird. I thought directly manipulating instead of suppressing emotions wasn't possible without a more extensive version of the implant, was his implant malfunctioning? I quietly connected to his implant to check, but he wasn't even running the emotional suppression feature.
"I'm serious though. I know you're not looking forward to school, but if you let your powers drag you down as well... just try to be proud of what you've got, what you can do. And just to prove that I mean it, I've got a little gift for you to brighten up your day. I can't help you with your designs, I can barely even figure out what they do now, but I can help with other ways. I've... had a busy night, so to speak. It was worth the cookies, I think."
He squinted a bit, and a few moments later a message blinked to life on my tactical view.
"There we go! How's that for crime-fighting! There's a joke in there about how we did things in my time, but I'm not that old yet. I figure that should brighten your day a bit!"
"Uhhhm, dad? What's that supposed to be?"
"Oh, for... it doesn't work? Crap, that was supposed to show you where to look, on that mental map view with all the radars and icons and things. I thought it would just move your map there, sorry. So much for keeping the happy face, I just screw that up as well."
He seemed to deflate, sagging down into his chair. What... was he doing all this for me, the jokes, the posturing? Did he think I needed the support that badly?
"Sorry, I'm trying too hard, it's just... I can't watch you be like this, not when I know what's going on. I couldn't help before, but I'm not... ugh, forget it. I'm rambling. Just, ahhh, just look at that spot on the map, all right?"
"It's okay, dad. I'm managing, and I promise it won't be much longer. Ahhh, let me see if I can find where you pointed to..."
Focusing on my tactical view, I noted a few different locations to track down the place dad had indicated for me. It didn't take me very long to find the spot he'd meant. Though the map wasn't detailed enough for me to know what the buildings were, I did see a number of different icons, one of which stood out from the rest. It was the same kind of grey square that was shared by all unidentified targets, but with one difference. It was big. It had lost the tag I'd assigned to it, but there was no doubt in my mind as to what I was looking at here and my bad mood quickly vanished.
"Dad? If you want to cheer me up, forget the forced happiness and keep doing stuff like this. And when I get back from school you're going to tell me how you found them."
I hope you're ready for round two, Squealer... let's see how you like being on the defensive this time.