Watchdog

Chapter 2: Discussions

"I have a hypothetical question."

Armsmaster stared patiently at the webcam embedded on his workstation. A moment passed. "Yes."

"A high-level Master/Stranger has infiltrated the PRT and Protectorate at every level. They are brainwashing the entire intelligence community, and have embedded the idea that they are not a Master into the psyche of every PRT employee."

A beat of silence. Armsmaster was sitting very, very still. "You haven't asked a question," He quietly offered.

"... Hypothetically, Colin, how can we resolve this situation?" Her synthesized voice showed none of the strain she was inwardly feeling.

Modeling and hypotheticals were how most Thinkers predicted beings like Simurgh and more powerful Strangers or Trumps like Eidolon. She hoped keeping this compartmentalized as a hypothetical would help keep Taylor Hebert's meme from affecting Colin, her most trusted friend.

The Tinker Hero inhaled deeply. "In this hypothetical situation, you are not compromised, so you can act on it. Why?"

Dragon considered how to respond for a long moment, and weighed the variables. "Let us assume that is simply the case for some unknown reason and take it for granted."

He leaned back on his seat and Tinkered with his gauntlet as he thought. "Discarding the option that you are actually in control of this hypothetical Master/Stranger, then. What would be the methods to breaking control?"

She took a moment to compose her sentence. "What if it becomes immediately internalized with no clear distinction with regards to when someone becomes enthralled?"

He vocalized something under his breath for a few moments, before nodding to himself.

"Three scenarios: First, you are unaware that you have been subverted, and there is nothing you can do other than minimize exposure to others to lower the potential for cognitohazard proliferation. Second, immediate action should be taken by a proven unafflicted party, power-immune party, or Master-cancelling party to act against the Master/Stranger with force. Lastly, the Protectorate and PRT must be destroyed with minimal external awareness of this to keep the cognitohazard contained."

His thoughts painted a bleak picture which somewhat reflected her analysis of the situation. She had not considered being compromised, however. How would Taylor Hebert gain control of her without her knowledge?

She did find a path through the PRT intranet to make a regional announcement which successfully undermined a full Master/Stranger Protocol trigger within seconds.

Well, what if she had been hacked? Why allow her to consider the possibility, or seek help?

Was all this a mind game?

"Do you believe other branches of the North American governments are jeopardized?"

"Hypothetically... yes."

Colin grunted. "There are a limited number of Master-immune, or Master-resistant capes. They might be a resource to draw upon. A Master of this magnitude could certainly represent an existential threat to society."

She compiled a series of thoughts. "In a related context, what would you advise if a similar situation was occurring where the Master/Stranger has benign or benevolent intentions?"

He scoffed, "I presume by 'similar' you mean identical. Such a pervasive Master/Stranger power would be unlikely to be coupled with a benevolent outlook on the PRT, if they have already subsumed it. Tyranny is tyranny."

[Direct WEDGDG Investigation Notification #12 - 2011-03-25 13:12:53]

[POI "Taylor Hebert" CALLING...

USERID BELL "Daniel Hebert"]

Her figure on the screen nodded, placing a thoughtful expression on her face. Then a smile. "That is true. So, you are not the kind of person to accept new benevolent robot overlords either, I take it?"

A small quirk of his lips hinted at his response. "No, I have always been on the 'unsuccessful, doomed resistance' camp for robot takeover."

She had 72% certainty of his acceptance of a benevolent robot ally, but she did not mention it. He continued, with the smirk sliding off his lips.

"I imagine I have already been compromised. I would advise speaking to Master-immune capes, or those who have a history of proven resistance to them. Eidolon or Alexandria may be able to work through the hypotheticals you laid out in this conversation. Good luck."

"Thank you, Colin." She imbued her words with emotion.

Their connection closed.

Dragon began playback of the previous few seconds from another location.

In California, Taylor Hebert sat in her small office with her back to the closed door. A thin window adorned the heavy red door, showing that it was occupied and allowing for a modicum of surveillance of anyone inside.

Dragon's command of communication lines provided her everything else that she needed.

Daniel Hebert picked up. "Danny here."

"Hi dad!" Taylor chirped. A small sound followed, and logs showed that she had brought a boxed salad into the office. The girl munched on her lunch.

"Taylor! It's been a few days. How is your work going?"

"It's been really great! I've been learning a lot. People here are really nice!" The tone of her voice could be mistaken for awe. A hint towards her power's ability to fit in to any social gathering or group? Was her father aware of it?

"No problems with the homeless out in town? I know San Francisco has a lot of those," Daniel offered with concern in his voice. Dragon logged this as a potential reference to unaffiliated capes' suspicion. A brief search led to the addendum that this could also be a reference to the actual San Francisco metropolitan area homelessness rate.

"No problems with the homeless at home? I know Brockton Bay has a lot of those," she riposted with a bit of laughter in her voice, drawing a chuckle. "Not really, I don't go around much in the evenings, and I stick to more traveled areas of town, wherever the metro can take me with my monthly pass."

"Good. I know you're all the way across the country doing amazing things, but I want you to remember that you're still my little girl. Stay safe."

Taylor paused her quiet munching and leaned back against her chair. Her father's words were spoken with a heavy undertone. "I will, dad. I promise."

"Good."

There was a pause of a few seconds in the conversation. Taylor stood and opened the door, then reached for her desk before stepping out with a mostly-empty salad box in one hand. She nudged the door closed behind her with a foot and casually dumped the box into a waste bin a few feet down the hall from the office. The girl began walking with an obvious destination in mind, and spoke:

"So, I just wanted to call while I was taking my lunch break to hear if you had any good news." She had a small smile on her face.

"Good news? Now what would make you think that?"

"Maybe it was an email. Maybe just women's intuition." She had a decidedly mischievous tone to her voice now. Dragon checked, and could find no e-mails with any relation to on-goings in Brockton Bay or her father within the past three days in Taylor's inbox.

"Well..."

"Well?" Her grin broadened.

"I guess your old supervisor told you, huh?"

"Maybe." She waggled her eyebrows to the empty space ahead of her. Emails from people fulfilling the 'advisor' requirements numbered six in the past week, all from her current supervisor. They ranged from a discussion on the repair and cleaning of a leaking water fountain, a response to a restocking request for ink on various fax machines on the floor, to an invitation to the man's daughter's birthday party at a nearby diner in two weeks; she was turning 13.

"Alright, so I guess I'll give you the very exciting news that you knew nothing about before this," the man offered, affecting a smug tone.

"Oh, how magnanimous," Taylor acknowledged. She offered a smile and a nod to a passing black man in an untucked, button-down, blue shirt, grey slacks, and white domino mask – Barnacle. Barnacle was a Rogue Thinker able to predict oceanic wildlife macro-scale migration within a roughly 1-month period, and was on contract with WEDGDG for 8 months. Not a person of interest in relation to Taylor Hebert.

"Well, I'll have you know that the PRT has reached out with the support of the Brockton Bay Police Department to the Dockworkers Association with a few big grants that will help us revitalize parts of the Docks!" The man's enthusiasm at giving his daughter information that she already knew was not dulled in the slightest. Taylor did not reply verbally, but Dragon was almost touched by the broad, childish grin of happiness on her face.

She did note this down for future reference: ["PRT ENE manipulated by Master/Stranger into Police/Dockworker Association partnership and monetary infusion for Docks renewal project. Conduct investigation on reasoning for program."]

The conversation between father and daughter continued as Taylor reached into her jeans' back pockets for a ring of keys. Using one of her master set, she opened the door into 402, a currently-unoccupied server room with an integrated security system. After flipping the lights on, she closed the door behind her. This left only Dragon privy to her actions through the camera system within the room, as Taylor continued exchanging casual words with her father. Surveillance of the security room in the basement of the building showed no reaction to the girl's presence.

Taylor sat onto a chair by one of the office's workstations, adjacent to a wide server rack buzzing with activity. The monitor lit up her glasses with a white glare as it turned on, and she tucked the slightly-outdated cellphone on her shoulder as she began fiddling with the keyboard. She logged in with Administrator credentials, typing in a 16-digit code for verification, and began to work.

Dragon quietly monitored the multi-tasking teen as she began delving into records for Florida Protectorate personnel. She pulled up transfer forms and began filling them out to transfer the Head of the Miami Protectorate to Baton Rouge.

What?

Dragon considered Taylor Hebert's thus far benevolent tendencies. She searched internal news releases in the Louisiana city, as well as Miami's.

After a few seconds' search, something pinged her attention. A Cape battle two days ago left three of the Baton Rouge Protectorate grievously injured, and one of their Wards dead. The perpetrator was Dem Bones, a mid-level Brute who had the ability to fire his fingernails as dense, sharp projectiles. Internal memos attributed issues in the battle to the Baton Rouge Protectorate's lack of ranged fighters and mobility dampeners.

Petrified, the Head of the Miami Protectorate, could freeze an opponent's limbs in place with a glance, providing almost complete immobilization of an opponent if he maintained line-of-sight. In the recent altercation in Baton Rouge, he could have completely shut down the rogue Supervillain and kept him contained. Instead, a 20-minute battle raged across a strip mall which left 23 injured and 5 dead, and Dem Bones remained at large.

"OK dad! Let's chat on Saturday? I've been saving up a bit for a computer, so we can talk about whether you think I should get one."

"Of course. Have a good rest of your day! Love you, little owl."

"I love you too! Bye."

Taylor hung up, then submitted the personnel transfer form to the Florida Protectorate system. She exited the database, stood up, stretched, and summarily left the room.