3.2
It didn't take long for New Wave's discipline to crack after the team heard the gunfire. Even without Glory Girl's phone, the sound was loud enough it could probably be heard halfway across the block.
"Vicky!"
"Revenant, what's going on?
Double checking my sensor readings, I saw streams of yellow dots coming from the larger vehicle inside the garage. It made it much more difficult for me to see what was going on, but I still had the tags from earlier to help me out.
"Glory Girl is still alive and moving, but she's cut off. Squealer's tank is firing at her, trying to pin her down. I'm heading in, try to give support if you can and you can take a hit. Shielder, can you try to block those guns?"
My drone rushed forward, slamming into the garage door with a deafening clang but failing to break through. I hoped my voice synthesizer masked the fear I felt right now, trying to keep the discipline New Wave held during their fights. I needed New Wave's help, but if we lost Glory Girl today... it would mean I got a fellow hero killed – and I lost my one chance of fixing my own problems.
"I'm on my way! I don't know if I can stop both the machine guns and that mortar of theirs with my shields, which one should I focus on?"
"Block the machine guns, she's too fast for them to use the mortar. Be careful, they might try to use it on you if they notice the shields! I'll try to destroy the mortar and draw their fire!"
Sending my drone back from the garage door, I decided I couldn't spare the time to do this the old fashioned way. Glory Girl was tough but I had no idea how much she could take and she hadn't fought the tank the last time we faced it. Targeting the garage door, I launched the first of my nanite missiles.
The nanite cloud that erupted from the missile all but pulverized the door, leaving a jagged, six foot wide hole leading into the smoke-filled garage. Sending my drone back in, I hit the edges of the hole and burst through while trailing pieces of the door.
I made it maybe five feet past the garage door before I was hit dead-on by a mortar round from the Merchant tank.
Pushing my way past the series of warning messages in front of me, I sent my drone the order to deactivate the magnetic clamps holding the missile unit. Not a moment after the launcher was shoved out of the way my combat drone hit a rack of car parts. An engine block on the lowest shelf proved too much to handle for my drone's battered armor, ripping through the right-hand side and leaving a jagged tear through the whole machine. The last bit of momentum from my fall tore the damaged section clean off the rest of the drone when I hit the concrete floor, leaving a trail of damaged machinery in my wake until I finally skidded to a stop.
Hell no. New Wave needs to trust me, I can't lose here and Glory Girl still needs my help. I won't back down, not now. The Merchants come to an end tonight, New Wave will listen to me, and I can finally deal with them. I can't afford to sacrifice the drone, to look like I'm abandoning them. Briefly muting my own connection, I turned to attention back to our own living room, where I was sitting on the couch pretending to watch TV.
"Dad! Grab one of the engineering drones and get over there. My drone's just been taken down, I need something to repair it!"
Not waiting for a response from him, I turned back to my wrecked drone's viewpoint only to watch the Merchant tank come to life, engines roaring and smoke belching out of the exhausts on its back.
I'd crashed not far from the tank itself, but while that made it more difficult for them to use the tank's weapons against me they obviously had something different in mind. A loud grinding noise sounded from the tank as it started to move, turning in my direction.
"Shielder! Block their machine guns so Glory Girl can move! I've got this!"
Before the Merchants could capitalize on downing my drone, several blue half-spherical energy barriers flickered into existence over the tank's smaller gun turrets. Switching my viewpoint to the single camera 'eye' of my missile drone left on the floor, I tried to aim for the tank's main gun only to see a mildly singed Glory Girl fly into view, pounding on the front armor of the tank while trying to stay out of the guns' line of sight. The heavy steel plates were bending and twisting underneath her blows, but despite her attacks the machine was still slowly making its way forward.
"Oh! You! Are! Not! Leaving! Damnit!"
With her position, she was unable to see the shields keeping the smaller guns from attacking her, or the small group of Merchants hurrying along the far side of the garage. Shielder's view was blocked as well, as the boy stayed as far back in the corridor he had taken position in so the Merchants wouldn't focus on him.
"Glory Girl, get back! I'll deal with the tank, get ready to intercept the Merchants, they're making a run for it!"
I was fairly confident we could capture them even if they took one of their cars, as we had at least two fliers that could outpace them. Switching back to my sensor view, I watched as Brandish's icon moved down the stairs in the other side of the building, joining up with Flashbang and Panacea downstairs. We were almost done, and all it took was one drone that was easily replaceable.
When Glory Girl still hadn't responded a few moments later, I checked the system overview for my drone and realized the speaker systems in it had been destroyed in the crash.
"Shielder, call out to Glory Girl to back down from the tank. My drone is broken but the launcher still works, I'm going to try to take out their main gun and I need her to stop the Merchant capes from escaping."
"Got it. Hey Vicky! Get back, Revenant's about to shoot that thing! Head to the other side, the Merchants are trying to get away!"
A moment later, Glory Girl abandoned her punching routine and shifted
"Blow this thing to pieces and I'll get right on it! I don't want to get shot in the back, once is enough!"
Wait, she actually took a hit from that thing and she was still fighting? Damn, I knew people were calling her the next Alexandria but I thought it was mostly just hyperbole. Regardless, now that my line of fire was clear...
While my launcher wasn't angled perfectly for shooting at the tank, my missiles were fast and maneuverable enough that the angle gave me little difficulty. My second missile struck the tank right on the armored front grill, sending a gray cloud of nanites into the vehicle's internals. A moment later, the behemoth came to a grinding halt as a good chunk of the vehicle disintegrated into blackened ashes. A large gout of flame flashed out, scattering the dust across the garage before revealing a four foot wide hole in the armor plating. Foul black smoke billowed out, occasionally giving me a view inside at the burning remnants of the engine block.
The last missile I had brought left the launcher and curved upwards, ignoring the hole cut into the tank by my previous shot. Instead, it hit the mortar at the top of the vehicle, eliminating the last weapon the Merchants could use against us that we had no counter for. Switching from the launcher back to my tactical view, I spotted Brandish and Flashbang besides Shielder. Panacea was hanging back in the living areas of the building, probably going over the beaten and tied-up Merchants to check for any serious injuries.
"Everyone, the tank's mortar is destroyed! Shielder, keep blocking their machine guns so the others can move into the garage."
"Got it, Revenant."
"Vicky, watch your aura."
Glory Girl said something, but I couldn't make it out from the connections I still had. No doubt complaining about not being allowed to go all out. How had a Brute like her never crippled someone? I wish I could get that kind of control, I was still stuck on the 'excessive force' level right now...
The group moved together, heading over to the car with the three Merchants. Shielder stayed back a bit, keeping his eyes on both the tank and the rest of the group.
As Glory Girl pounced on the half-stripped car the two Merchant leaders and one of their flunkies had climbed into. She said something that I couldn't make out from my launcher or over the phones before punching through the windshield and ripping it off. She tossed it back behind her as Brandish and Flashbang took position to each side of the car.
"Surrender, Skidmark. Your car doesn't even have half of its wheels, you're not going anywhere. It's over."
"Suck my sweaty shlong, you shit-stained skank! Alliteration bonus, yeah!"
A moment later, Glory Girl jumped and came to a stop a few feet above the car as blue lightning crackled across the car's surface. Some kind of defense system? I saw Flashbang create a pair of his spheres to launch, but before he could do anything else Skidmark's mad laughter was cut off as the entire car vanished with a sudden rush of air. The three members of New Wave were left standing around a spherical hole in the concrete.
No. Nononono! They did not just get away again! I needed this!
"New Wave, what the hell just happened?"
"Did... did they just disintegrate themselves?"
"Nah. That was a teleporter for sure. Looks just like the Terminator, except we're seeing the exit instead of the arrival. Gotta be, see? They just popped out everything in range of their gizmo, and no doubt got dropped a distance off with all the missing concrete. Good thing you backed up, Vicky, you could have lost a finger or two just now!"
Shielder, having seen the commotion from a distance, headed over while excitedly talking into his own phone. Flashbang spoke up next, the first time he'd really interacted much with the rest of us this night outside of combat. He still didn't really sound like his heart was in it, honestly.
"No, no, that's... that's all wrong. That was a time machine, not a teleporter, that can't be it."
"Well, yeah, but seeing how we're all not dead because our grandparents were killed or something, I'd say we're pretty safe. Besides, it's Squealer. You think someone like her could build a time machine?"
"Well, that's just great. Revenant, can you see them on your sensors? See if you can figure out where they went, we'll start collecting the unpowered mooks. Also, I'd rather not stay in this garage longer than necessary. The tank's stopped shooting but I'd rather there be a little more than my cousin's shields between us and those guns."
I'd started going over my sensor coverage already the moment I realized the Merchants got out, but without luck. My coverage was steadily expanding, but there were still bits of the Docks and Trainyard further north that I couldn't see. I'd been too busy establishing my workshop and getting the missiles for my drone. And now I would need to deal with that as well. Fortunately, dad wasn't too far out with the engineering drone so I could start repairs soon.
"I'll see what I can do Brandish, I-"
"Agh! No, get off of me! Let-"
"Amy?! Shit, get back in there. Revenant, did you miss one of them or-"
"No, no, I'm fine. One of these guys woke up again. He's ahh... I dealt with him."
Panacea's sudden brush with danger served to shake us out of our shock at Squealer's latest trick, and my allies set out to collect the remaining Merchants while I got up from the couch. I didn't have anything to do to get rid of the nervous energy left after our failure, and I didn't want to take control of the drone dad was bringing. He already felt like he should do more, I didn't want to rob him of the little bits he could do to help.
=======================================================================
Fifteen minutes later, Panacea, Shielder and Glory Girl were helping me by dragging all the broken pieces of my combat drone over to where my engineering drone was making some improvised repairs. Shielder had said something about my engineer looking even worse than the combat model when it had arrived, but I'd honestly not been paying a lot of attention. At the time, Panacea was getting scolded by Brandish for disregarding her safety and the way she'd taken down the Merchant that attacked her so I had stepped in to try and defuse the situation. My meager social skills proved too limited to really fix things, but I'd managed to get the girl permission to help with gathering my drone's remains so hopefully they could calm down a little.
"Ten minutes until the PRT gets here. That OK with you, Revenant?"
"I'll be OK. Thanks for looking out for me, Brandish. At this point I don't think it matters that much anyway, the Merchants definitely know there's a new Tinker now and it's only a matter of time before the news spreads to the other factions. We'll never catch them in time."
"Agreed. However, that does bring up something we've been discussing with the team. It wouldn't have been as much of a problem if we'd captured Skidmark and Squealer today, but we can't keep doing this."
Wait, what? Was New Wave quitting, abandoning me? Had I taken too long before I told them about me? They had to trust me, take my side over...
"I genuinely appreciate your efforts to protect my daughter today, and we'll do what we can to help recover your drone. But that doesn't change the fact that we're the ones taking the risks here and we need to consider what we're going to do. We can't keep pushing the Merchants without completely driving them into a corner."
"You're going to give up, just when we've almost won? We're making so much progress, even if they escaped we've still taken down that tank and we have a dozen Merchants arrested."
"No, we're not giving up. But we do need to change our approach. Your vendetta against the Merchants has left them all but broken, but it's also making them desperate. They will escalate if we keep pushing them and the city is already destabilizing as it is. The ABB is smelling blood in the water, and they're making moves into the Docks to test the Merchants' defenses.
"Shouldn't we keep pushing then, eliminate them once and for all? The ABB... they'll need time to move, and Lung can't be in more than one place at a time. We can arrest the last of the Merchants, and then it's over."
"It wouldn't work, Revenant. Having someone like Squealer escalate will only lead to more danger, for us, for any ABB they end up fighting, and for any civilians caught in the crossfire. We haven't even seen Whirlygig yet, and they aren't as coherent a group as the other gangs are so that part of the Merchants is bound to still have some surprises in store. I know how easy it is to feel like you can completely take out a gang like this, but the situation in Brockton Bay is far more complex than that. Taking out villainous parahumans will do a lot to help the people of the city, but the gangs are ultimately just a symptom of the city's decline."
For all that I wanted to reject Brandish's words, to say that we could fix the city on our own... I couldn't. Not without ignoring everything I'd seen from Winslow and dad's efforts for the Dockworkers Union. People did need an alternative to the gangs. But the Merchants were much more than just a way to fix the city for me, they were a way to fix my life.
"I understand. I'm... sorry, it's just not what I expected. I have some ideas for helping the city as well, but that will take time to do and I need to be an established hero before I can do that."
Even if I wouldn't or couldn't sell my weapon systems, establishing a factory for mass-produced Tinkertech generators and anti-gravity systems should be doable, at least. Except I would need PRT approval first... it all came back to the PRT, in the end.
"Look, I understand you're trying to be the best hero you can be, Revenant, but we can't simply be your personal shock troopers. Let the Merchants be for now, focus on keeping people safe and stopping the gangs from taking advantage of the changing status quo. We'll start hitting them again after things quiet down a bit, give them a little time to recover. You can still work on mapping out the gangs' properties, but we won't attack them. It just means that when we do strike against them, we'll be better able to keep things contained and at the same time make sure they can't escape somewhere else like what happened today."
"Sorry, I just don't really see the point in waiting for the criminals to come to us if we already know where they are. Don't we have a responsibility to do what we can?"
I know a lot of so-called heroes no longer care about something like that. New Wave was supposed to be different, wasn't it?
"Yes, but there are more ways to help than merely waging a war in the streets. The kids have been talking about getting back into regular patrols and that they wanted you to accompany them. Giving people hope can be better than simply arresting criminals."
"I'm not sure if you've noticed, but my gear isn't particularly PR-friendly, Brandish. I'd just as likely scare off any civilians we encounter than I would inspire them. I'm no good for patrols."
"For all that they joke about it, Glory Girl and Shielder certainly seem to disagree and they're the ones most enthusiastic about the idea. We also think it would be good for you to take a more visible role in the cape scene instead of only working behind the scenes."
"Ah. Accountability and transparency, right? Speeches, signing books and playing with the children at the mall included? I'd have to buy some spandex first, I'm afraid, I think I'm all out."
Brandish actually laughed at that, a somewhat surreal sound from someone I'd only ever experienced as cold and professional.
"Well, I suppose having to listen to our preaching is a hazard from working with New Wave, but we do genuinely believe in what we're saying. Don't be too harsh on yourself, even scary heroes can be well loved, even heroes whose color palette is almost entirely black. Just think of Alexandria. Besides, we'd love to actually shake hands with our benefactor one of these days. Give it some thought, all right?"
"Hey Revenant, I think we've got all your pieces. Is your hunk-a-junk working again? The light-show's pretty but there's an awful lot of parts lying around."
"Ah. The job calls, I hear. Shielder, do please be considerate, I'm sure a lot of work went into those machines. Brandish out."
"Hey Shielder. Yeah, it's working. It's not perfect, but I've got one functional engine and I'll be able to carry the rest of the pieces back to my workshop. Thank you for getting all the parts. Oh, and thank Panacea and Glory Girl for me too, please."
"No problem. Oh, wait, Glory Girl wants to say something to you, one second, I'll give her the phone."
"Heya, it's me. Just wanted to say thanks for busting me out today. I'd give you points for style but then you got your robot blown up so it would be in poor taste. I hope you can fix it all right,"
"It's the least I could do, I thought the tank wasn't occupied and it would be safe. I almost got you killed because I was wrong."
"Oh, you didn't miss anything. The tank was empty, Squealer simply used some sort of remote control to have it shoot me. By the time I realized it was her, there were bullets flying everywhere and I was stuck until you bailed me out. You know, I could get used to having a buddy to watch my back. Just don't watch it too closely, I do have a boyfriend."
Wait, why would I even need to know that? Did she think I was flirting with her? Was she flirting with me? What?
...awkwaaaaaard.
"Ahhh... Sorry, I- ahhh, I hope you don't take this the wrong way but-"
"Nah, I'm just messing with ya. Well, not about the boyfriend thing, I do have one of those. But you need to lighten up a bit, mom's filling the seriousness quota just fine on her own. C'mon, we arrested a bunch of drug dealers, you did a dashing rescue and everyone had a great time except the Merchants and they don't count."
"Thanks, I guess. It just feels like we lost today, like we did something wrong."
"Yep, that sentiment right there is what I meant. Please oh please prove to me it's not a Tinker thing. You need to enjoy it more, embrace your heroic awesomeness or you'll just turn into another Armsmaster. Oh hey, you gonna stick around for the PRT this time?"
"I think I'd rather not introduce myself as a half-broken heap of scrap, thank you very much. I'm keeping the phone lines open just in case though, so if you do need me here I can head back right away. I'll have to get the drone back for repairs first though, so it might take a little while."
"Still playing the shy little Tinker, huh? Ah well, suit yourself. I'm gonna see how we're gonna gift-wrap the goons and if mom and dad aren't secretly trying to leave us out of it. Ciao! Hey Ames, you coming along?"
I switched my focus to the partially repaired combat drone, ignoring the rest of their banter. I had other things to do, and I honestly didn't really feel like chatting anymore. I carefully activated its flight systems and the drone gained altitude as it should, but I still wanted to be careful. I'd already received enough damage today, and if I broke something again I wouldn't be able to get it fixed before the PRT arrived. And they'd have questions for sure. Tinkers were... popular for a reason, and while they'd learn of my powers pretty soon from interrogating the Merchants I wasn't sure what they'd do if my drone was still around when they arrived. They probably wouldn't be so blatant as to try and seize it, but I'm not taking any chances. Call me paranoid, but I'd been betrayed too many times already. Especially by them.
Dad was piloting the engineering drone back outside, leaving me to collect the last fragments of my drone with my transport clamps while I listened to New Wave's chatter over the phones. Part of me couldn't help feeling betrayed by them even if I understood their reasoning. They wouldn't follow my directions anymore, and without the joint actions against the Merchants I was left without a clear goal or way of fully earning their trust. I had to get them to take my side, even against people they'd worked with for years...
Would this be enough?
3.3
Three positions at just above minimum wage for a technical position that needed both skill and experience. There was a time when he'd have called it outrageous, extortion, a disgrace to everything the city stood for. Nowadays, Danny was glad there were jobs at all. As usual they were only temporary positions, but they'd help keep people afloat.
Collecting the paperwork and stapling it together with a small list of names to contact about the position, he got up from his desk and headed outside. A little ways down the hall, he knocked on the old wooden door and headed into the small office occupied by Henriette, the sole remaining secretary for the Union.
"Henriette? I got some more paperwork for you if you have the time. Dobson's agreed to our terms."
The older woman turned to him with a weary smile. They'd worked together for a long time, and neither had survived the hardships of Brockton Bay's decline without their share of cynicism. She was one of the best they had, and she'd even managed to get the other girls of the 'paper-pushing princesses' other work when they had to let them go at the Union. Even so, the Union was slowly dying and they both knew it.
"You're on a roll today, Danny. Don't go too fast now, we're not the youngest anymore and I'm not sure it's good for your eyes. Slow and steady wins the race."
"Well, the pile of printouts on my desk was getting high enough I couldn't see the door anymore, so I figured I might as well do something about it, hmm? Besides, it's good to actually have something to show for it. I'll do a few more, we can use all the good news we can get."
Two new contracts today, possibly five employed people to offset last week's almost complete lack of opportunities. Seventeen more contracts that might have been doable but never went anywhere despite his efforts. Eleven jobs that he suspected were fronts for gang activities and would most likely leave his people at the mercy of the police, the PRT or the other gangs.
"Oh, I don't mind, dear. At this rate I might actually have to start calling around to get you some more paperwork to deal with. Any preference for where to find your daily dose of disappointment? Maybe some government work this afternoon?"
"Hey, as long as it's an honest job and they pay for it I'll take a look."
"No problem. Oh, I hate to bring this up right now seeing how you're doing now, but I'd like to stop a bit earlier today. My daughter's coming to visit with her little girl for a few days and I didn't have the time to make sure the guest accommodations were set up this morning."
"Ahhhh, I see. That was... Emily, right? Will you need any other times off the rest of the week as well?"
"Emmera, actually, but thanks for trying to remember. And Claire's almost three now, they grow up so fast!"
Yeah. They do grow up fast, just not always the way you want.
"Anyway, I don't think I'll need any other time off, we're mostly planning to go visit Captain's Hill and the museum this weekend. They'll have their own fun until then, so no need to worry about me."
"It shouldn't be a problem, I'll leave anything important on your desk so you can take a look at it in the morning. Family's important, after all."
They chatted for a little longer, going over the contract and his candidates, the state of Brockton Bay itself and some of their worries for the Union. Eventually, he excused himself and headed back to his own office and the work that was still waiting for him. There was only so much social niceties he would allow for himself, so long as his people still depended on him.
Sitting back down behind his desk, he eyed the remaining pile of papers. Taking the top form and looking it over, he tried to get back into his rhythm. GHB Transports, looking for a certified lift truck driver to help in their magazine, and two more support staff for the work floor. Placing the sheet of paper on his desk and spreading the other pages out alongside it, he stood back up and looked at the whole series.
Having a supercomputer wired into your brain sounds a lot scarier than it actually is, initial hallucinations not withstanding. He still wasn't quite sure if he would keep it or if he'd ask Taylor to take it out eventually, but she had been right about how it could help him with his job. Maybe he'd get used to it, eventually, but until then he'd make do.
<00:00:01 – Playback paused>
The entire world slowed to a crawl and he sat down to review the offer. By the time he was done looking it over digitally, he'd bring out the red pen and start noting down details they might have to work on.
Hmmmmm. This contract wasn't too bad, actually. He was pretty sure there were two or three guys with the license they needed, and the pay seemed reasonable as well. If anything, there might be a little room to negotiate, dropping the pay a little but perhaps getting an extra position out of it instead. He couldn't be seen as too desperate or they'd assume he might lie about the qualifications, but still... something to keep in mind.
Picking up the phone, he went to dial the company's number before stopping. Maybe it would be better to arrange a meeting instead, have the talk face-to-face instead of over the phone. He was better at negotiations in person, and he found the implant could help him there as well, letting him remember or review contract details without having to look through the papers themselves.
It was part show of course, but looking competent would reflect well on the rest of the organisation and that was easier to do if he was there in person. The Dockworkers Union wasn't very big or powerful, but they'd managed to get by with their reputation for being capable and honest, hardworking people that didn't do business with the gangs. You get a Union man, you get a man you can trust.
It would have almost been a joke to him, if it didn't hurt. The Dockworkers prided themselves on reliability, and yet his own daughter didn't trust him. He might not be the smartest man in the city, but Danny Hebert was no fool. He was helping Taylor, certainly, but he wasn't helping. Piloting the engineering drones, supporting her when they were working with New Wave so she could focus on the fights, being responsible for the calls to the PRT when they had captured gang members to drop off... it wasn't anything she couldn't do herself.
The drones could fly on their own just fine, with the higher thinking speed they both had she could easily deal with anything he did during the fights, and the PRT... she would have to face them eventually. He was just keeping her from confronting the true problem. The only real difference he'd made was when he tracked down Squealer by looking for possible workshops instead of following the dealers like his daughter had, and even that had merely sped their plans up a little. It was really just busywork, and the worst thing was that he didn't even know if she was doing it on purpose. She didn't trust anyone anymore, and even as her father she might simply see him as just another part of the rest of the world.
He'd recently started going through Taylor's designs, hoping to find a way to actually make a difference. Having someone look at them with a different perspective might help them find a way to solve the lethality problem of the weapons or work with New Wave's suggestions. The first idea he'd come up with was a shield projector built into a rifle of sorts, so it could essentially punch opponents with a moving shield bubble. Unfortunately, while forcefields were a Sci-Fi classic, only one of his daughter's designs used a shield. He'd given up trying to turn it into a gun after he got a sense of the shield's size, turning a multi-story tower into a gun was just a tad beyond him. Simply flash-forging a wall segment around a target as a counterpart to the PRT's foam weaponry proved equally impossible. The engineers didn't really care much for obstacles in the way of anything they built, and tended to simply disintegrate and reclaim whatever they had to so they had space for the new structure. It wouldn't be very non-lethal if the only difference between leaving a thug 'tied down' or 'decapitated' was if the guy was moving when they started the process.
Still, he might be able to use something similar, turn defense mechanisms into a weapon of some kind. He hadn't really looked at the naval units yet, maybe some sort of anchoring system would work, or a sonar system modified to serve as a sonic weapon? Perhaps he could also get a modified ship hull as a cargo freighter, kick-start Brockton Bay's oceanic trade again. He was sure the construction potential of his daughter's technology could be used to clear the Boat Graveyard, and having a working dock would be a good step towards revitalizing Brockton Bay. Having jobs again would make such a huge difference to the city.
Putting the phone down, he leaned back and sighed. Might as well do some Tinkering now, leave the paperwork for after lunch.
He wouldn't finish the entire pile today anyway, otherwise his beloved and beleaguered secretary might really get exhausted trying to keep up. He honestly didn't know if she could match a cybernetically sped-up Tinker brain, but she was the type to try regardless. Of course, she didn't know about it and there was only so much faster he could work without drawing too much attention. It was probably for the better that Henriette would go home early today, she wouldn't realize he wasn't working late or taking some contracts home with him like he used to sometimes.
It was still plausible that he was just putting some extra effort in instead of cheating, but he'd have to be careful nobody realized the true cause of his progress. The Union was worth putting in the effort, but showing off a possible parahuman power was an easy ticket to a visit from the gangs. If that happened, and they didn't take no for an answer... what then?
Taylor could easily stop them if she went all-out, and with the kind of weapons she was using now it would only lead to everyone escalating. God, he wasn't made for this kind of thing, the subterfuge, the lying... this wasn't him.
He hoped things would get better once Taylor could switch schools, take things more slowly instead of following this hell-bent drive for power, for control. But the future he hoped for was not the one that common sense told him was coming.
=======================================================================
My seat had been fouled again today, but it slightly backfired on my tormentors' as one of the boys in class was sick, leaving his seat available for me to take instead. I was adjusting to the experience of having a window seat by enjoying the view outside the second floor window. It was certainly more entertaining than class itself, regardless of whether I focused on Mr. Smith's endless droning or the chatter beside or behind me. Physics just couldn't hold my attention like it did before... well, before everything.
I felt a slight impact to the back of my head, and resigned myself to untangle yet another spitball out of my hair. It had been a while since they'd resorted to this kind of juvenile nonsense, but the number of successful pranks was steadily declining and I'd gotten very good at dodging them during lunchtime. It seems Emma had rekindled the school's awareness that yes, my hair was about the one part of my appearance I appreciated. Unsurprisingly I was now suffering the consequences.
After unceremoniously tossing the spitball onto the floor, I turned back to the window to watch the rooftops of the buildings outside Winslow. The view wasn't great, but Winslow was built on a slight hill and it was just tall enough. So long as it wasn't raining, the second floor left just enough height to see across the rooftops of the smaller buildings in the area. In the distance, the towering hulk of Brockton Bay General Hospital could just be seen through the haze.
"Taylor, are you paying attention or are you just watching everything outside?"
Oh, crap.
"I am, Mr. Smith. I mean, I'm still listening and paying attention, not just looking outside."
"Well, in that case I'm sure you'll have no problem explaining what I just discussed. Feel free to use your own words, it's important that you understand the subject properly and don't simply parrot my own words back at me."
I could hear snickering from behind me, no doubt people were getting ready for a bit of entertainment at my expense. I'd have to be careful to be less obviously distracted from now on out, but if they were expecting me to resort to some half-wrong jumble of physics words they'd be sorely disappointed.
Taking a few moments to collect myself as though I was considering my words, I went over the recording from the past half minute of class at breakneck speed. Together with my slow-motion view of the blackboard, Mr. Smith's words were more than enough for me to piece everything together.
"You were explaining the principles behind the right-hand rule in electromagnetism. Electrical current flowing through a wire creates a magnetic field, if the current in the wire flows in the direction of the thumb the magnetic field is oriented along the other fingers. The opposite happens if a current flows in circles along the direction of the fingers, and a magnetic field is generated that points upwards along the thumb. Ahhhhh, that's if you use a right hand to model it, should I use clockwise or counterclockwise instead?"
The class had fallen silent at my explanation, and I realized I had still made a mistake. Being a loser was normal for me, but with my poor grades and the repeated theft of my essays and projects, I wasn't the kind to excel at school. Not anymore at least. But there's more than one kind of loser. A little ways behind me, I could hear the first whispers start already. Madison, by the sound of it.
...oh god, she's such a nerd! ...teacher's pet! Hey, how'd she... Showoff! ...blow him later for a bit of extra credit... Pffft, anyone could have-
"Thank you, Taylor, that was better than I expected. Still, in the future please do keep your full attention on the board. I don't want you to set a bad example for the rest of the class as they might not have your listening skills."
Yeah, not a snowball's chance in hell anyone will let that slide. Looking stupid was one thing, but accidentally forcing everyone else to play the good student for the rest of the hour? I'm going to pay for that, if not right away then eventually. The rest of the class went about as well as could be expected after that, though at least there was some novelty in the whispered insults.
I didn't look outside anymore.
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Eventually, the bell rang and everyone started rushing out through the door, eager to get out of Mr. Smith's class. I had to walk from further down the room from my different seat, and there were a few more shoves and extended feet on my path than usual as well. As a result, my welcoming committee was already present and ready for me by the time there was enough room for me to head out.
"Did you see the way she was spacing out back there?"
"Yeah, it was insane. Hey, you think she's joined the Merchants? She was all but tripping in class just now."
"Heh, that would be just the thing she'd do, too. New Wave's taking them down hard, so the idiot's joined just in time! What better time to become a druggie than when all the losers are getting rounded up?"
Of course. Why not suggest she was a druggie and completely ignore the fact they just got schooled – literally – by the person they're calling stupid. Wait, crap. They might actually make it happen, too. I'd have to look out for my stuff, they might just try to put some 'drugs' in my backpack or locker. Even if it was just powdered sugar or some such, they'd love to screw me over that way, maybe even get me arrested for it. More paranoia, just what I needed.
God, I so needed this to end soon. I was spending most of my day using the emotional suppression system now, never turning it off completely until I got home at the end of the day. I just couldn't handle it anymore, and I shuddered to think of what kind of mess I would have been without the implant. Would I even be in school now, or would I have just given up?
I pushed on, leaving the snide remarks and laughter behind me. Two more classes, and then I was home free. Computers and Art weren't so bad to be honest, though I'd have to talk to the teacher today so I could plan ahead. I'd finished my art project yesterday evening, so I'd have to bring it along before classes sometime soon so I could turn it in without making it a target for rest of the school.
I made my way through the corridors, heading towards the computers classroom on the other side of the floor while avoiding the worst of the masses. Computers was one of my optional classes and very few people bothered with it, instead preferring the easier classes like art or one of the foreign languages. It was one of the few relatively safe classes I had, since none of my tormentors or their lackeys had this class. Not cool enough, too difficult or probably just not fun enough for them.
For me, it was mostly a chance to keep up to date on the city's cape scene with PHO and occasionally do a bit of Tinkering. I certainly didn't need the time for the projects themselves, I was already way ahead of the rest of the class before I could add my Tinker support to the mix.
Settling down on my usual spot in the back, I prepared to ostensibly work on whatever project Ms. Knott had for us today while tweaking my designs instead. I wanted to get a bit further with Manpower's suggestions today, see if I could find a way to build a small transport drone that could work as a jetpack of sorts. It would probably be little more than an engine block and attachment points for some regular straps and belts, but maybe I could come up with something better instead.
I was still worried it would take an implant to use properly, though, and that was a piece of technology I wasn't sure if I should offer them. Dad knew me, but New Wave might think I was going to Master them somehow, turn them into brainwashed cyborgs like from a bad Aleph movie.
About ten minutes later, I'd finished my programming assignment and built a small but functioning webpage with a few buttons. Ms. Knott was busy with the other students, leaving me alone in my little corner of the classroom. Just when I was about to head onto the internet check the latest bits of cape gossip and prepare to do some Tinkering, I suddenly received a text message from my dad.
Well, then. Looks like I wasn't the only one who was doing some Tinkering for the greater good today. Still, that weapon he talked about... I did remember it, vaguely, but it had never really registered for me. Pulling up the schematics for the aircraft carrier, I tried to get a sense of what the missile defense system actually did. Some kind of high-density electrical charge contained within a magnetic field. Hmmm, it would actually look like one of those wacky plasma globes, a sphere with crackling electricity inside.
The containment field and projector seemed pretty energy consuming so I probably wouldn't be able to make it safer that way. Still, the electrical charge itself didn't seem to have any major restrictions, though there was probably an upper limit that would destabilize the field. I was steadily making my way through a number of old Electrical Engineering books I downloaded a while back, but it was still tricky to predict what my tech would do without actually building it.
Still, modifying the charge itself might be just what I needed to turn it into a reasonably safe lightning weapon like dad suggested. If I kept the main field strength but reduced the payload density...
Oh, yes. I could use this. I could definitely use this.