Subduction 1.3

Daria was finishing her bacon and eggs when Hebert stumbled into the kitchen. "You drugged me. Again."

"Yes."

She sat down at the table. "Thank you."

"No problem." She pointed at the kitchen, "help yourself."

Hebert poked around the cupboards settling on a sugary cereal and placed a kettle on the stove. She found Emily's tea bags and Daria made a note to buy more. Emily got tetchy if anyone messed with her belongings.

Hebert seated herself prompting Daria to ask, "What happened?"

"His spirit... at first I thought it was like a chimera." Hebert grimaced and put her spoon down, "It had pieces that didn't fit together right. But I looked closer and... skin made of flayed flesh, fur matted in filth, maggots crawling under the skin, all stitched together like Frankenstein. Then it spoke and I don't remember what happened next."

"You started screaming. Knocked over your dinner."

"Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. So you can't fix Newter?"

"I... um... think I can. But I have to fix the spirit first. I'm not sure how I can fix it... but I think I can. Maybe."

"We'll put that in the long term category then. Labyrinth is going to be back at noon. I want you to take a look at her. Her power, it causes certain issues. It pulls her into her own little world mentally and then she pushes that world physically out into ours.

"The longer she is in an area the further her range increases and the more familiar she is with the area the faster her range increases. The best we can do is to move her to a hotel every week and rearrange her room while she's out. It works passably well, but if you can help her it will be a big relief."

"She isn't like Newter, a Case 53?" Faultline shook her head. "I should be fine. Visiting hours start at nine, so if I could come back at noon?"

"That works," she slid a phone and key across the table, "Here, key to the employee entrance. It's best that you don't come through the front again. The phone is paid up to the end of next month, call the first number if, for whatever reason, you're questioned by a cop or hero."

"Johnson, Johnson, and Johnson?" Hebert asked.

"Lawyer. Quite good. Had clones of himself flash grown in the nineties before it was made illegal. You now have them on retainer."

"Won't they know I'm a villain if I can afford to keep a lawyer on retainer?"

"They'll just think you're with the E88. Since the only cape they have around your age is Rune, and she's blonde and half a foot shorter, they'll just think you're a courier or something. The Johnsons do a lot of work for them."

"I don't want anyone to think I'm a Nazi!"

"It doesn't matter what they think. It only matters what they can act on. They can't do anything to you for having the same lawyer as Kaiser, but if you talk to them—like you talked to Armsmaster—they can throw the book at you. If anything happens say you want your lawyer and shut up. Just sit there twiddling your thumbs until a Johnson gets there. Do you understand?"

"Don't talk to the cops. Ask for Nazi lawyer. Got it."

"The Johnsons aren't Nazis. They just take their money. I'd suggest you get used to it."

Hebert looked sullenly at her Cheerios. She'd get over it, eventually. Or perhaps she wouldn't have to. Faultline poured herself a second cup of coffee. She considered the possibilities the newbie presented. Perhaps the merry band had just moved out of the mercenary business.

"What can your power do to Tinkers?" Faultline asked.

"Don't know. Haven't met one."

"What about Armsmaster?"

"Oh, right. Didn't get to talk to his spirit. Or even get a good look at it."

Faultline paused a moment to think, "Don't come in at noon. Take the rest of the day off and be back here at six."

"Tomorrow morning or-"

"Tonight. No one should be up at six in the morning. Yes, I know, you still have to be up for school then. Sucks to be you." She smirked around her mug.

Hebert crunched her cereal loudly in response, abruptly stopping when Gregor entered.

Newter was exotic. Wild coloration, cut muscles, and a carefree attitude, if he could touch people he would have many paramours, tail or no. And he knew it. Gregor however was hairless, skin partly translucent, coral growths sprouting from his skin, his fat didn't make him look chubby so much as it made him appear bloated. The overall appearance was of a decomposing corpse washed in with the tide. He offered Hebert his hand. "This the new girl? Hello, my name is Gregor."

To her credit she took it without any signs of hesitation. "Taylor."

"Faultline said you could help me and Newter?"

"Maybe. I think so."

"That would be nice." Gregor puttered around the kitchen preparing his breakfast. Some sort of hippie rabbit food that Daria didn't even try to understand. "You can see powers?"

"Yes."

"What does Daria's look like?"

"British schoolmarm with a butcher knife."

"Heh. And mine?"

Her nose wrinkled, "You don't want to know."

"Perhaps, then, it is best that I do not."

"I really have to get going."

"Hold on. I'll drive you. No buts, you said that visiting hours start at nine, it would take you more than an hour by bus and I assume that you'll want to shower and change clothes too. Just give me a minute here and then we'll go."

Gregor watched her exit, "I like her."

Faultline smiled, "She seems like a good kid. Too naive and trusting. I need a pretext for meeting with Über and Leet, Gregor. What toys do they have that would be worth purchasing?"

"I do not know. It would be better to ask Spitfire, she watches their show."

"Ask her. Brainstorm and get me a list in, say, two hours." Faultline placed her mug in the sink and followed after Hebert.

Hebert lived in a neighborhood that could be best described as aspiring to middle class. The houses were small and any visible cars were old. But the yards were maintained, there was no visible graffiti, and while the cars were old they were also still in one piece. Taylor ran into her house and Faultline followed. Faultline poked around as Hebert quickly showered and dressed. The house was obviously beginning to fall apart at the seams. Mail had been piled up in a corner, the sink was full of dirty dishes, a thin layer of dust along the shelving, and a faint scent of mildew in the air.

The drive to the hospital went through both ABB and Empire territory. Despite the ongoing gang war the street were clear. It was made apparent why as Armsmaster and Velocity passed their car twice. The Protectorate were patrolling in force, trying to quell the violence.

"So, um, why only the goggles?"

"Hm?" Hebert had made a few attempts at small talk on the drive, but they hadn't risen beyond the conversational level of weather and local sport's team.

"The goggles. I mean, I could tell that you're somewhere around five foot six, white, black hair, might even be able to pick you out of a line up."

Right, ignorant newbie."There are some people who say the PRT has a file where every cape's civilian identity is stored. I find that doubtful. Too high of a security risk and if they really need to know they have enough Thinkers on payroll to find out anyone's ID in less than an hour. The costume is just there to give them plausible deniability."

"But if they know who you are-"

"They don't come after us in our civvies for a number of reasons. Escalation of cape fights. Endbringers. Politics. Some people say they go too far, that they give men like Heartbreaker carte blanche. Either way it works out well for me."

"So I don't have to worry about the PRT?"

Daria nodded, "As long as you maintain a weak pretense of keeping your identity secret. The IRS, now that's a different story. They don't have any idea of who's a cape and who's not. More capes are unmasked and subsequently arrested because of the IRS than any other organization."

"Oh. Wait, if you knew that I wasn't a mole than why did you drug me?"

Daria looked over at Hebert. Did she really think, honestly think- She guffawed. "Mole? Some hero in a villain group acting as a mole? That... that would have to be the dumbest thing anyone ever could... mole. That's funny. No. There's a bunch of reasons we drugged you. You might have been there to try and take us over or to steal or any number of numbskull things. Besides new triggers are always a little cuckoo."

"I feel like I should take offense at that."

Daria shrugged, "People trigger at a low point in their life. The sort of point where you wonder if it's better just to end it all. And then you get super powers. Everyone is a little messed up at that point. You triggered a little over a month ago, you seem to be doing fine. Considering that your first instinct wasn't to dress in spandex and fight—I'm going to guess—against tyranny and villainy, it seems that you're a bastion of sanity."

Daria left Hebert to work through the new information for the rest of the drive.

She pulled over a block away from the Anders Memorial Hospital. "A few things: Ask your dad if you can get a job. Tell him it's as a dishwasher at the Palanquin. He'll ask if you're worried about paying for the medical bills. Tell him no, but you need some spending money and you need to start saving.

"When you come back tonight bring a few changes of clothes and toiletries.

"And don't talk about switching schools. At all. A wealthy philanthropist will contact your father in a few days, you know nothing about that and it'll be a pleasant surprise. See you at six."

With Hebert dropped off Daria headed back to the Palanquin. She put together her notes, research, and thoughts together with the recordings of her interviews with Hebert. A quick bout of shopping at army surplus stores and she arrived at Riviera's at noon.

"Emily, how was it?"

"Decent. Still going to want me to stay away?"

"For the next week or so. Business after lunch."

"Of course." One did not go to Riviera's and spoil the food with tawdry affairs. Emily had her usual steak and lobster, Daria electing for a tuna and ordering the same for Elle. There were reasons to stay in Brockton Bay and Riviera's always showed up on that list.

Finished and waiting on dessert they moved on to the meeting. "I'll be taking Elle back with me. There's a good chance I've found a cure."

"The new girl?"

"Yes. Here's what I've got so far," Daria pushed her purse under the table with her foot.

"Is it actually going to be worthwhile? I mean, people like that are usually bad news."

"Read what I've got on her. It looks like a small, controllable side effect. One she doesn't even want to use, if I'm reading her right, she can't control the boys."

"Then why am I stuck in a motel if you have them?"

"Independent verification. Trust me, this has the potential to set us up for life."

"One week."

"One week. Come on, Elle, let's get you home."