Investments 14.9
"Okay, I think I know where you are," Taylor told me over the comms. It was nearly two in the morning, but we'd finished the calculations, ran them through the base's computers, and now it was ready for showtime.
"And that is?" I asked, looking across the vast expanse of white in every direction, the temperature well above freezing. "I'm in Utah, aren't I?" I'd been jumping with Area Teleportation, trying to find a serviceable spot. It needed to be wide open, fairly level, and away from people. This seemed to be all three.
"If by Utah, you mean Bolivia, then yes, you're in Utah," she informed me. As we'd worked our way through astrophysical calculations, she'd gotten a little sarcastic, but she was so much help I didn't care. We'd had to teach ourselves, but once we kinda knew what we were doing, we could help get Zilla to crunch some of the numbers. I still wasn't sure we'd gotten it right, but that's why we were going to make several attempts.
"Okay, I'm currently looking East, what direction should I be at instead?" I requested, following the directions she gave me as she plugged in my location to the formulas.
"Shit, you're closer to the equator, that changes things. Gimme a sec," she informed me, having me turn around, fine-tuning my exact heading, the sound of clacking keys in the background. Okay, you ready? We're gonna want to start at a forty-two degrees up, tell me when you're ready. Remember, you can make it bigger-"
"But I can't make it smaller," I finished, double checking I was pointed in the right direction. I could shift the construct to the side slightly if I needed to, but no more than a degree or two without compromising structural integrity. Floating up, I focused, the ground starting to ripple wildly, like the solid expanses of salt were stormy seas. Over a hundred meters of steel started to rise from the ground, forming an enormous rectangular base. From that base rose an equally long tube, a latticework of supports forming from below it, one end grounded on the foundation plate.
I built it up, higher and higher, slowing it down. Reaching into the cargo-style pants I'd turned my costume into for this, I flew to a position perpendicular to my creation and pulled out a protractor, which I carefully lined up to the structure I was extruding. I could take my time before I started, but I had no idea how long I'd have after the first shot. This wasn't going to be quiet. Taking out the measuring tape, I checked everything was the proper lengths, laying down the base Speed Zones with care. For what we were doing, there could be no 'close enough', as a mistake of inches might mean a change measured in dozens, if not hundreds, of miles.
Able to feel the Speed Zones, I carefully checked the patterns, dismissing and re-applying three that were mis-aligned. Once the base layers perfectly matched the models we'd made, it was much easier to double them, triple them, quadruple them, and keep layering them down until I hit nine deep. Nothing on the twenty or so I'd used against Leviathan, it was still far more than my pistol could handle, and over a hundred of them would have. . . compounding effects.
I'd been made aware, over the past eight hours, how incredibly off my initial predictions were. While I could get a fairly good sense of terrestrial distances, I'd thought I could picture interplanetary distances as well.
I'd been wrong.
Thankfully, I had the power to make it still work, but this was going to attract a lot of attention. Taking one last minute to check everything, I sighed, moving to the grounded end of the tube. I'd originally thought I'd use the power of my own enhanced strength to make this work, but I'd tried to find a way to throw within the required parameters, only to discover, to my chagrin, that I couldn't. The minute differences in muscle movement of each throw would tilt, twist, or spin the projectile. For anything within a few miles, it wouldn't be an issue, but we weren't working on that small a scale.
I slipped out the first Mark Dart from a pocket, focusing hard, and trying to make a Mark that'd last as long possible, dumping a great deal of energy into it. Or, at least I hoped I was. I could've just been staring intently at it, doing absolutely nothing, for all I knew, the power having a max charge I'd hit seconds ago. With the teleportation anchor inscribed, I grew the metal closed, protecting the metal spike's precious cargo. Stepping forward, I placed it to the first Speed Zone, the only single layered Speed Zone in the entire assembly, feeling it trying to drag its payload down the tube. The firing zone had been Taylor's idea, something to direct the shot while also acting like a soft cap, keeping air and debris from being drawn through the length of the tube, though it needed to be staggered slightly from the rest, to keep the depressurized zone between first and second zones as a buffer.
Holding the Mark Dart fast against the pull of the firing zone, I closed my eyes, paying close attention to the feedback Momentum Infusion gave its user. Instead of pouring power into it, then forming it like clay on a table, I approached the paradigm from the other direction creating a mold in my power that would take momentum until it was full, and not a newton more. The power filled, and filled, and filled, more than I'd given anything short of the Leviathan fight, until it was ready.
"Firing in ten, nine, eight," I told Taylor, counting down as I wrapped myself in an Acoustokinetic barrier. We wasn't sure what would happen when the projectiles exited the end of the device. The darts would be projected by Momentum Infusion, but the secondary effects of firing something like that were likely to be. . . extreme. Laying a hand on the tube, I extended a malleable shield over the length, firming the air around my hand into a defensive shell. The shield didn't want to cover the entire thing, and I had to force it to cover the structure, the power seeming to fight me as it did so, but I made it work.
With luck, even if the worst happened, I wouldn't be too badly injured, though I wasn't looking forward to having Panacea regrow something of mine again, even if it were just a finger. Running metal through me and hunkering down slightly, I added another shell of hardened air around me right before I hit zero in the countdown, and let go.
Unlike before, time didn't seem to slow down, my sight not kicking into overdrive to let me observe what was going on. No, in the space between heartbeats there was a loud ringing crack, a strong breeze, and the entire thing shuddered, which did in fact drain a shield, but that was it. No massive shockwave that I'd barely survive, no noise so loud I'd be hard pressed to keep it from shattering the ground around me. On some level, I almost felt cheated.
Where's the kaboom? a silly little part of me questioned. There was supposed to be an earth-shattering kaboom!
Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth – okay, I absolutely would, but I'd so later – I opened up the hardened air around me and moved back out, with my protractor. "Okay, first shot fired. Next?"
"Forty-six degrees up, and half a degree more to the north," she told me, "and work fast. You set off an alarm."
Making the proper growths, as I'd practiced in micro, with the new support to keep the structure stable, I asked, "Why?" Honestly, this wasn't nearly that bad. Stowing the half-circle, I pulled out another Mark Dart, dropping an anchor in it and closing it up as I made the mental mold, pouring Momentum inside.
"Because you're lighting up Zilla's sensors, and probably everyone else on the western hemisphere," she informed me. "Not sure what sensors, but the system pinged a warning to everything on it. Overwatch is better at this than I am. We should've asked for his help," she added, as an afterthought.
Letting the Momentum fill, I had to admit that was likely correct. At least I took solace in the fact that I wasn't the only one who'd overlooked that fact. "Next time we will. Firing in five, four, three."
Having cycled another shield, I stretched it out over the slightly larger structure. It fought me even more, and I hoped it'd stay intact all the way to the last shot, but if it broke we had a plan for that. Two, actually, depending on what it was that gave first.
This one went off as well with an identical crack, as did the next three. With only two left, and having been doing this for ten minutes, something finally gave way. As the sixth shot went off, at a sixty-two degree angle, the shields I'd been trying to get to fit pulled back at the last moment.
With a loud crack, the entire thing sheared off from the base falling to the ground with a titanic crash. I stared at it for a moment, my Acoustokinesis having muffled the sound as my Aerokinesis had desperately tried to soften the impact.
"What was that?" Taylor asked as I flew over the barrel, ripped free of all grounding. It didn't look damaged or cracked, which was something, but I still had one Mark Dart left.
"Supports are gone," I muttered, trying to figure out what to do. We'd expected some of the supports to go, or to have a failure in the barrel. If it was the first, I was supposed to regrow them, and the second called for a full abort. "
Taylor's question of "Which ones?" was expected, likely staring at the 1/100ths scale model we'd built.
"How long do I have?" I asked her instead, trying to figure out what to do.
I could hear a growl of annoyance on the other hand, as well as more tapping keys. "I don't know! I figured out some of the basics, but I've been busy. We should've asked Overwatch. Or even Theo, he's got more experience with this than I do!"
"Next time," I promised, having an incredibly good, or incredibly stupid idea. Flying back to the base, the supports having spread in multiple directions as they failed, I asked, "What was the last heading, compared to when we started?" As she gave it to me, I grew a line in that direction, growing a pole as far away as the barrel was long, with a long wire leading back to the base. Measuring it quickly, and making it a bit more, having messed it up, I went back to the barrel. It was too big for me to cover with one shield, though now that it was just the barrel I might be able to make it work. Doing so with one hand, I slipped out the last dart, priming, enclosing, and filling it with Momentum.
It'd probably miss completely, but it might hit. Growing a handle at the back, I set it against the base, and used the wire as a guiding post, the seemingly weightless barrel still awkward as all hell to move. With everything ready, I was just about to fire when Taylor shouted "Lee, something coming. From the West!"
Turning to see it, there was a dark lizard-like figure moving with almost supernatural speed over the white salt-flats, coming for me. It didn't look that bad, until I realized the reason I didn't sense it was that it was very very far away. A state of affairs that was quickly changing, but I had at least another five seconds before I had to do something about it.
With the last Dart filled, I aligned and fired it like I'd been planning, draining both shields as I suddenly felt the weight of the enormous barrel. Running out of shields, I used the Crystalline shields on both hands to catch it before it fell all the way, not protecting it but merely encasing it in a lift field, turning it around towards the oncoming beast. Pitch-black, and with three pairs of multi-jointed limbs, closer up it looked almost nothing like a lizard as it bore down on me, mouth opened in a hissing screech that I reflexively lessened.
As I was going to destroy the firing assembly anyways, I saw no reason not to waste this opportunity. Growing a spear from the ground, the width of a Mark Dart I picked it up with Aerokinesis and slotted it into the firing zone, holding it still with my left hand as my right grasped the handle.
The creature rushed passed the edge of the barrel and I groaned, having taken to long to set up the shot. Moving forward even faster, ready for the kill, I didn't bother being fancy, lifting up the enormous barrel and slamming it down on top of the creature.
The Force of the blow, accidentally enhanced by the crystalline shields, smashed into the ground, crushing the creature less then a fourth its size, before the barrel cracked, light flaring from the end as the broken Speed Zones discharged.
Yeah, I thought, maybe trying to shoot a spear out of the escape velocity gun wasn't my best idea. Then again, smashing the thirty-foot-long lizard thing with a several hundred-foot-long, several foot-wide metal rod wasn't exactly force-appropriate either. I'd hit it right across the back, its head and part of it's torso all that seemed to be left, but I didn't bother to try to pick up the broken barrel again, just dismissing the other Speed Zones with several flashes of light, which shone out through the cracks I'd made.
Staring at the. . . whatever that was,I, once again, felt a little disappointed. "Monster down," I announced, and I could hear Taylor sigh. Shrugging, I manifested two suns, one running over the foundation and supports I'd created, one slowly eating up the barrel, lighting up the area with deep purple light. Whatever I'd crushed wasn't quite dead, and shrieked as it burned, trying to lift the remains of the barrel as it screamed from multiple mouths, seeming to have one at ever major joint. It struggled with a chorus of shrieks, only to be covered in molten steel and fall silent.
Less than a minute later, all that remained of my work were three long scorch marks on the ground. "Firing done, returning to base," I announced, focusing on Marked Teleportation. I could feel the small, densely packed cluster of Marks in Brockton Bay, and the seven Marks on their way out of Earth's atmosphere.
Focusing my power, I disappeared with a pop, going home.
Sending Taylor to go to bed, the Mark Darts, if our calculations were correct, not hitting until late tonight, I was left with a lot of time to kill. Reading over my brother's reports, he'd started exploring the area around him in more detail, finding several more relatively harmless anomaly, and having accidentally found a way to neutralize a more dangerous anomaly, was doing several more 'dry runs' before he went ahead and put a stop to it.
While not what I'd asked him to do, I did appreciate the help, and I could let him do so in good conscience. While my brother would sacrifice his men if there was no other way, he'd not waste their lives if he could help it, even if it slowed him down.
I approved.
With the time I had, I grabbed a training room, instead of one of the power testing labs, and took a bit to actually read the manual. Well, skim the manual, as it was huge. However, I did find what I was looking for, specifically small turrets that fired everything from paint to bean bag rounds. Selecting the latter, I got to work training my shields, and finding their activation requirements.
They naturally sprang up whenever a projectile was going to hit me, but not if it was barely going to miss. More than that, when I did my level best to not pay attention to my Aero and Acoustokinesis, they still automatically sprang up even if I didn't know the shot was coming. Though, with more thought, I couldn't be sure if that was actually true or if while I was not paying attention, my Shard still was.
Either way, my power automatically activated. I was seeking to stop that, or at least be able to repress it. It didn't go well. Working with it expressly didn't accomplish this, though I was able to put myself into a state of mind where the shields would automatically dismiss themselves after blocking the shot. The process was still slow, taking a third of a second, during which I couldn't make new shields. While I could make several shields at once, or dismiss several shields at once, with my limit being four at a time, I couldn't simultaneously create or dissipate shields. Also, while it was nearly 'blink and you'll miss it', they weren't fast enough to just be a blue flash, the distinctive hexagons forming.
Leaving them to work, I folded my legs, meditating in mid air as I looked inwards instead. Flying over the ocean of Purple & Red Flames that represented my power, the many other, smaller powers islands of variety in the duochrome sea. The White and Gold of Vicky's ability pulsed, a small stream of power feeding into and out of it, likely surging every time I got hit, the stream being my flight.
Moving past it, I found the Teal & Neon Yellow complex of Flames that was Projectile Protection. Every time it projected shields, it pulled on the greater whole of my base power, and every time it unmade them it pushed power back into Unlimited Shard Works. Watching it function, I tried to draw down on the power being fed to it. Not uncoupling it, because I knew that wouldn't work. . .
I tried uncoupling it anyways, but the power was obstinate, not letting go. With my assumption checked, I moved back to drawing down on the power flow. The copied ability obviously didn't like me doing so, resisting my attempts, but I could do restrict it. Holding that frame of mind, I opened my eyes, and the projectile shields were gone. The bean bag rounds weren't enough to drain even my malleable personal shields, and I ignored the slowly growing pile of little bags around me.
Going back to that other place I stopped holding back, and the power sprang back into life, a quick check confirming the shields were forming and dissipating as normal. Drawing the energy feeding back into the ability back again, it was easier this time, and once it was off-line I tried to keep it that way.
Letting go, it seemed to work, only to slowly slip back to an active state once again. Trying to make it work once more, it stayed longer, but It still failed. Over and over I tried different methods, the power getting easier to manipulate the longer I worked with it, finally making gates of Flame I could control, one for each of the thirty connection points it had to the greater power. Shutting them all off starved the power completely, but it unfortunately didn't unhook the power. A single connection was enough to make a single shield, though it took several seconds to form, and it was a weak thing, stressed by a beanbag round hitting it where the normal ones barely registered the hit.
Experimenting with them, the shields didn't start to automatically deploy until twelve gates were open, and then it would only make a single, full-strength shield. Closing one more, nothing happened.
Fully aware that limiting myself to a state where it took a meditative trance to activate my protections was fucking stupid, I practiced opening and closing those mental gates, scaling my power up and down until I could do it with a few seconds of thought, while flying.
Trying to do a similar thing with a different power, like Metal Projection, failed as it lacked the gate setup I'd created for Projectile Protection. I'm gonna have to do this for every single power, aren't I? On a whim, I looked at the White & Green power of Acoustokinesis, an enormous lake of power compared to the small pools that were the minor slotted abilities. Trying to find the connection points, I stopped counting after I hit three digits. Could I make gates for it? Probably. Would I? Probably not. It didn't auto-activate, so I didn't have the need, Task complete, I came out of my meditation, cleaning up the piles of spent ammo, and left.
Checking my phone, I was surprised to find I'd been at it for nine hours, my stomach grumbling now that I was finally paying attention to it. Punching in the cafeteria floor into the elevator's controls, I considered what to make. It was early afternoon, but I hadn't eaten. Would that make this breakfast, or lunch?
The elevator stopped, and a man I didn't recognize wearing a suit and with a briefcase stepped inside, nodding to me as he greeted, "Vejovis." Not sure what else to say, I just nodded as he leaned over and typed in his destination. We both stood, in silence, until the lift came to a stop, and he stepped out, walking down the hallway, another woman who I didn't know walked up to him with a tablet computer, asking him about something as the doors closed and the elevator started to move again.
"Overwatch?" I asked the air.
A moment later Quinn's voice came through the speakers, "Yes Vejovis?"
"Have the new hires arrived yet? The ones who are going to help us set up the base?" I questioned.
"I sent you an e-mail," my lawyer's voice dryly remarked. "Yes, they have. I've directed them to set up in general housing, and they've been instructed to stay out of your way, directing questions to me."
My 'Your Vizier is attempting to usurp you!' mental alarms were going off, but I ignored them. Checking my phone, I had, indeed, received an email stating all of that. "Ah, my apologies, I was busy."
"I understand, as I am also quite busy. Was that all?" he asked, reminding me of why they were here in the first place.
"No, that's all," I replied, as a new email popped up, and I tried to remember who the hell Sherrel Bailey was.