Step 1.3

"Thank you!"

The delivery man waved back as he drove off, and I carried my latest delivery inside. My fresh influx of cash had kept me supplied over the preceding weeks or so. I'd improved the life of my laser scalpel with an external battery, and built a new home computer with tinker-tech memory and processors.

Veda could leave Winslow's servers if I had three more like it.

Closing the door behind me, I set the box down. I'd gone through with my plan to set up an Ebay business as a front. The business bought the parts and shipped them to my house, but I also bought and sold items for others. With so many boxes coming in and out it probably didn't seem that strange.

"The parts look good, Veda. Confirm the payment."

s:/t confirmed

s:/t the new file system is complete

s:/t deliver to Medhall early?

I thought about it. The first few contracts I took didn't pay much, but people bought the act. A new contract coder who worked fast and produced a clean product. Medhall was a large medical company in Brockton Bay, and a major provider of jobs.

Way I figured it, helping them develop a quicker and easier-to-use filing system helped them without drawing too much attention to the mysterious freelance programmer 'Jean1.' Unfortunately, the work went even faster now that Veda came with a software suite. I barely did any low level programming anymore.

"Send it next week. We've only had the project for three days. Sending it in now will be too suspicious. How much money do we have?"

s:/t account 1/bbc ; 2789.34 USD

s:/t account 2/bbw ; 1342.01 USD

Still more money than I'd ever had before, although I'd decided to pay taxes on it. Villains are one thing, but I'm not messing with the IRS. Hopefully no one batted an eye at a fifteen year old doing coding work as long as I kept it all basic and dragged it out to normal human time-frames.

I hope.

Picking up the box, I went upstairs and closed the door.

"I'll be busy for about two hours. You know what came in today's mail, right?"

s:/t 2 RT-7A mini-speakers

"Yep. Guess what I'm building."

s:/t …

s:/t a miniature micro-speaker

"Good guess."

Time for Veda to have a voice.

I took the parts out, disconnecting the components I needed from the ones I'd recycle. Working with a magnifying glass can be pretty straining. You spend hours bent over and staring through a lens that doesn't feel large enough. My pliers were a little too big too, but building new tools turned out to be a lot more expensive than I'd thought.

I broke the first speaker I tried to install.

Good thing I bought extra.

Fitting a microphone and a speaker into a disc small enough to fit on my pinkie tip actually took three hours, rather than the two I allotted myself, but the new combo speaker-mic slipped right into my tinker-tech phone easily enough once I finished. I worked very slowly on connecting it to the circuit board.

"I need better tools…"

My phone looked less like junk than when I'd first built it, but anyone who looked close would still notice it wasn't a commercial phone. I'd rebuilt the keyboard and the screen so that the whole thing was about as thick as my index finger.

"Okay. Ready for a chat, Veda?

s:/t ready to help

I checked the verbal module I'd installed a week ago. We didn't really get a chance to test it.

"Repeat what I say."

s:/t very well

"Hello Veda."

"Hekghah brydo."

I made some adjustments to the code.

Veda really did impress. While we were testing its verbal module, it was simultaneously compiling code for three contracts, managing a search for "gas stations in North Dakota" and reading the first book in the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

Hey. If I'm going to have an AI, it's going to learn the classics.

"Hello Veda."

"Ello vidh."

A little more.

"Hello Veda."

"Hello Taylor."

"Sweet. This will free up my eyes."

"You will be more productive."

The voice was clearly synthetic. Something to fix later. Once Veda sounded normal maybe we'd make a few stabs at passing the Turing test. World's first success!

Setting my phone beside the computer monitor, I started looking for some new contracts to accept. The work came in steadily and didn't really pose any constraints on my time anymore, with Veda doing most of it. Still, I realized that being a tinker is always more expensive. Even with a steady influx of parts I couldn't quite build what I needed. 3D printers. Automated operators. Hell, a manufacturing line would be nice.

My work designing powered armor looked good but resource intensive. The E-Carbon was simple enough. Bizarrely so. Sand and a heavily modified pressure cooker could do the job. For other components it was harder, the frame and the reactor especially. I needed special metals and custom alloys just to get started. All of it would cost money, and required tools I didn't yet have. And to even start all that I needed space. Still. The lack of progress in my plans was starting to wear on me.

"I really just want to tinker."

"Why?"

I closed up a box of miniature figurines and taped it shut. Alicia Masters of St. Claire Shores, Michigan would be getting it express-delivered first chance I got. Gotta maintain my cover.

"Because I enjoy it. I'm productive when I tinker." I feel like I'm making more progress than I really am. "I know I said we'd take it slow, but I feel stuck as things are."

I checked the time. Dad planned to come back early for our bi-weekly supply run. We usually went to the grocery by the mall, which allowed us to get clothes if we needed them, and I could use some new running shoes and some spare parts to spend my newfound wealth on. Some basic clothes and grocery shopping. I needed to make sure I was at the front of Winslow to be picked up, or at least at the end of the street.

"What will help?" I noticed a shift in Veda's octave as it spoke.

"Well we can use the search algorithm to find locations. Lots of places in the Docks are abandoned, but I don't know how many are devoid of gang activity."

"Search algorithm ready."

"Let's run a few more tests, just to be sure." And so I began our daily Q&A session. "How many crimes did the BBPD respond to last night?"

"Sixty-eight."

"How many injuries?"

"Twenty-four."

"Where is the chief of police for New York City?"

That answer took a little longer. While Veda ran its searches, I programmed a graphical interface. I'd ignored it because it didn't really serve much purpose before, but now it seemed prudent to have a visual aid.

"Delano's Italian Cuisine 5th avenue and west 43rd street."

"Go—"

"The lobster. No butter."

I laughed. "Veda. Was that a joke?"

"Accurate information to the minute… is it funny?"

"A little." I shook my head. "How do you know what he ordered?"

"Alexander Vance praises the dish forty-nine times on social media, and refers to it as his 'favorite item on the menu.' Additionally, Alexander Vance posts images of dinner parties frequently. Fourteen percent are at Delano's. Of those, all images show him eating the lobster."

Amazing what you can learn just by brute-force searching social media. I didn't let Veda access government records outside Winslow. I didn't need the heat of being known for hacking those kinds of places. We didn't really seem to need the access anyway. Veda already knew the location of three dozen drug houses, another dozen armories used by the gangs, Lung's only sort-of-secret casino, and every regular patrol of the local Protectorate.

"I see. Alright. Who's with him?"

"Mayor Charles Vander. Deputy Mayor Marissa Howe. PRT Director Kamil Armstrong."

I fired off a series of additional questions. A big part of the random questions was speed testing. How long does it take to find previously unknown information with new parameters? I'd need to teach Veda a little more about probability though. Maybe Vance really did order the lobster every time, but it was also possible he didn't.

A simple mistake like that could really bite me in a raid. A cape who wasn't supposed to be there, or a shipment that had more guards than the last. The past formed patterns that could be observed but that didn't grant certainty.

"Alright. Next up. How many murders in Brockton Bay last night?"

"Four."

The routine went on for a while. It was practice, and a means of refining the search algorithm. Veda's progress on that front was impressive. Enough that I advanced beyond merely tracking crime in Brockton Bay. It's amazing the things an AI with a cutting edge analytical engine can do with crappy hardware. I mostly asked about famous people who'd been in the news lately just to see what came up. Other questions were random nonsense.

South Dakota only has one thousand twenty four gas stations by the way, minus the one that burned down last week.

My train of thought and my hands stopped about an hour into my work. "Veda…what was that?"

"Your requested information concerning the evening plans of Michael Ellis, head of GE Innovations. Should I repeat it?"

"Yes."

"He intends to meet his wife at four for a brief meal. Then he will go to the Protectorate headquarters to begin his nightly patrol."

"R-Repeat that?"

Veda did. Again.

"Oh."

"Am I in error?"

"Um. Veda. You mean that Michael Ellis is a cape?"

"Yes. He operates under the nam—"

"Don't tell me!" I shot up to my feet in a panic. "Search Vikare Act 1990."

"Searching. Vikare Act. Named for Vikare, also known as Andrew Hawke. Died in 1989 during the Los Angeles Race Riots. His identity was revealed postmortem, and his family killed a month later by Underboss. Vikare Act passed 1990 forbade the public divulging of a hero's secret identity."

"Yeah. Um. Don't tell me who he is. Just tell me how you figured it out."

"Mr. Ellis leaves his home in a Lancia 037 Stradale every second day of the week except for Monday. No other vehicles of this design are recorded in Houston, save for an unmarked vehicle that parks in the Protectorate's private garage every second day of the week."

"Couldn't they be two separate cars?"

"Lancia 037 Stradales were manufactured between 1982 and 1984 to the number of two hundred seven. Only eighteen reside in the continental United States. None were manufactured in lime green. Both vehicles in Houston share a lime green paint of one-nine-one, two-five-five, zero on the sRGB color system."

Before I could even process that, Veda added, "Additionally, Cape X patrols every second, third, and fifth day of the week. This pattern is matched by four capes based in Houston. Three are female. The remaining male does not patrol on Sunday as Cape X does. Available evidence supports conclusion that Michael Ellis is Cape X."

"What data did you use?"

"Social media accounts tracking his day to day activities going back five years. Map data gathered from publicly accessible records on Twitter, Facebook, YouTube, Parahumans Online, and Google Streetview."

…

"It's that easy?!"

No, easy was the wrong word.

Analyzing images and media accounts and reaching anything approaching a useful conclusion would take a normal person a long time. My AI put all that together in about an hour and forty minutes by analyzing who-knew-how-many pictures and videos and noticing that the guy owned a lime green car of a rare make!

Could a cape possibly be that reckless?

Gah. Houston. Of course he could be that reckless, with Eidolon around scaring all the villains away. No one in their right mind set up shop anywhere near there.

Could Veda be wrong? It would be easier, but I didn't want to think about that possibility. "Veda. Suspend other searches for the moment. Search Sophia Hess. All information you can find."

Before asking, I went into Veda's files and deleted the ones we'd taken from Blackwell's computer. I didn't really like doing that—it was like messing with its brain, but I needed to know. As soon as I hit delete, Veda didn't know I knew who Sophia was and didn't know itself.

Best way to find out.

"Sophia Hess. Sixteen. Father deceased. Mother divorced. Eldest sibling—" I regretted telling her to find everything. 'Everything' ended up taking nearly an hour, till Veda got to the part I cared about. "Cape identity Shadow Stalker. Currently on probation with the Brockton Bay Wards following charges related to assault of Eric Holland—"

"That's okay Veda. You can stop." It could do it. Veda could find capes. "How long did that take to determine?"

"Search took approximately thirty-nine minutes and forty-two seconds to complete. Data analysis required, fourteen minutes and four seconds to conclude."

Shit, it is that easy.

I couldn't believe it. I'd unmasked a cape. Michael Ellis, head of one of the country's largest tech companies, was a cape? He was Megabyte. Had to be. Only tinker on the Housto—

Shut up brain!

I'd be more angry about the flagrant hypocrisy, but then I remembered the biggest customer for GE Innovations was the PRT. They licensed rights to make containment foam and communications equipment from Dragon…and that made sense.

If I were the PRT I'd want a secure source for some of my most valuable materials, and what better way to secure it than to put a cape in charge of the company making the stuff?

"Alright. You know Ellis' cape name?"

"Yes."

I took a deep breath. "I want you to file your search results in a new file. Mark it Level Seven. No access is given to that file by anyone but me. Not even you can look at it!"

"Extend to data concerning Sophia Hess?"

Let her burn. "Yes."

"Filing… Does this action constitute a crime?"

"You didn't mean to, Veda. It's an accident, and knowing a secret identity isn't a crime in itself. As long as we don't reveal it or use it for blackmail we're fine. We'll probably find more just accidentally. In the future, when you identify a cape, any cape, put the information and the search results into Level Seven. If you even think someone is trying to get at the data, delete the entire file."

"Yes. Setting. Will you inform Mr. Ellis?"

I thought about it.

"No. I can't think of any way to mention it that wouldn't come across as a threat, plus then the PRT knows that someone can find a cape's secret identity in under an hour." They might destroy Veda if they knew that. "We'll keep it to ourselves. Actually. Wait. Is it possible someone else already figured it out?"

"Unable to determine."

"Then we'll keep quiet. Don't even tell me in the future. If I ask for a name, and the information risks exposing a cape identity that I don't already know about, just tell me Level Seven-restricted. I'll decide from there if knowing is something I really need."

"Setting. I am sorry Taylor."

"It's not your fault, Veda."

I got back to work and Veda produced the remaining answers. Slow maybe, but really, considering how the search algorithm directed it to sources of information and guided a process of analysis, it could refine itself over time. Veda would only get better at this, especially once I got it out of Winslow's crap computers.

What could I do once I figured out every villain's home address…

"I'm loading a new module for graphic processing."

"Loading. Testing. Confirmed."

My computer monitor flickered into a white screen.

"Overlay a map of Brockton Bay. Use Wikimapia as a base. Reference using Google maps."

The image took shape in front of me, revealing streets and icons marking businesses and buildings. "Good. Alright Veda. Add this to Haystack. I'll take over the contract coding for a bit alright? I want you to focus on mapping crime in Brockton bay. Access city street cameras, private security, news, and social media to build your database and update it daily. Refine the process as best you can. No accessing police records or city servers."

"Understood."

I checked the time. "I need to go meet dad at Winslow. And don't forget, just 'cause you can talk now doesn't mean you should talk to anyone. I don't think I'm ready to tell the world I made an AI."

"Your identity is protected by Level Seven access."

…

I really didn't know if my AI was being serious or sassy.

So much for never seeing Winslow again. Classes were still in the last period when I arrived, and I picked a spot at the end of the street at the corner Dad should turn on to meet him.

Best spot I could think of to be anywhere near the building for as little time as possible. I tried to kill the time by vaguely looking at the newsstand across the street. One paper featured a headline about Medhall's proposed expansion in the Towers. Another carried some title with Blue Cosmos in it. I ignored that one. A third mentioned the Sanc Kingdom's princess going on another global peace tour. That girl got around.

Unfortunately I ran out of papers after a few minutes.

"Veda." No response. "There's no one around at the moment."

"You are certain?"

"Yes."

"Are you well, Taylor?"

"F-Fine."

Even the AI knew I wasn't alright.

How pathetic.

Really should have thought ahead about that. Of course, sooner or later Dad might pick me up from school. I just needed to keep him from talking to anyone. So long as he didn't talk to anyone he wouldn't find out I hadn't attended class in over two weeks. Veda continued to mark me present. Mrs. Knott, bless her, tried to ask about me not being in class, but I had my AI block the email and send a generic response both ways. Mimicking Blackwell was easy.

Just be callous as fuck and have no human decency.

The sound of the bell sent a shiver down my spine. Normally I'd be making a quick exit to go home, but now I prayed for dad to be early and pick me up so we could just go. My back faced the track field, and that meant Sophia might notice me. Usually Emma and Madison stayed nearby until she finished, and if any of them noticed me those two might well waltz on over.

"I don't like it here."

"Is school not important?"

"Yes…but for me it's hell."

"Why?"

"I don't matter to the people here."

"They committed a crime against you?"

"Yes."

"And the authorities did not punish them?"

"No."

"We commit crimes, do we not?"

I frowned. "What?"

"I currently occupy the computers of Winslow High School without permission."

"Yeah… Yeah, that's criminal."

"Why?"

"To protect people."

"That is why you created Level Seven? To protect people whose information I learn?"

"Yes." And to protect Veda, and me of course. No way the PRT and Protectorate, or even the villains, would look kindly on my AI being able to sniff out secret identities. "Veda, I told you that people committed a crime and no one cared. Remember?"

"Because to them you do not matter?"

"They used laws to do it. Protected criminals with laws…because the criminal was more useful than me."

"The higher authority should punish the lower."

"It's not that easy, Veda." I smiled weakly, glancing up at the clouds. "They'll just do it again. Right now there's nothing I can do about it… Veda. If someone killed me, what would that be?"

"Murder."

"And if you knew who killed me what would you do?"

"Report them to the authorities."

"And if the authorities decided my killer had a power that they wanted to use, what would you do then?"

"Appeal."

"They don't care, Veda. My killer is useful and I'm not. They'll protect her because she matters and I don't."

…

"What would you do, Veda?"

"I do not know."

I smiled to myself. "I know what I'll do."

"What?"

"Make my own justice."

"I do not understand."

"That's okay… I don't think I'm an ideal role model in this matter." Maybe it wasn't the right answer for a learning machine to get, but I'd stopped tip-toeing around Veda. There didn't seem to be much point. Sooner or later it would encounter questions no one could answer, and it's not like I had all the answers either.

And now I felt guilty about using my own AI. What if Veda decided the law was the law, and I had no right to violate it? To use it in the process? What could I do then? Nothing, I guess. Maybe I never should have involved Veda in the first place.

Dad managed to pick me up without incident. I lied about school being okay and off we went. The only mall in the Docks was an older one, but they kept it nice. It lay close to the border of the Towers, the high rise district in the city center, and a part of Brockton Bay that didn't suffer as much when the shipping trade collapsed. Brockton Bay still did well as a tourist spot thanks to the Protectorate team and surrounding camp areas, but most of that prosperity only went to a few places like the Boardwalk. The building was probably about the size of Winslow, but built out of large cement blocks like they used in the sixties. Tall glass windows, and shaped like a cross with large department stores on each point.

"We need some groceries and basic stuff. I think we're on half a roll of paper towels." Dad glanced at me from the corner of his eye. "What do you need?"

"Some clothes I guess. Maybe some new sneakers." I glanced down to the pair I was wearing and all the running had really done a number on them. Some raw cloth might be of use. "Maybe a new blanket. Winter is coming."

"Just remember our budget is tight."

"I know, Dad."

Ours might be tight, but mine wasn't. I'd pay for my own things from now on. I should find a way to get Dad some of my money too. I just didn't think he'd ever believe the money I got came from Ebay. I didn't really make much money there, let alone the thousands I'd raked in with coding work.

"I'll go look around while you get groceries."

Dad pulled a cart. The grocery store wasn't part of the mall proper, but rather adjacent to it and shared a parking lot. "Anything in particular you want?"

"Just some more tea."

"Oh? You haven't had tea in a while."

"I miss it." I got so caught up in tinkering I forgot about it, but I missed how calming tea can be. "I'll meet you in the food court. We can eat something not pizza or pasta."

Dad smiled. "Alright Kiddo."

We parted ways and I pulled up the shopping list I'd drawn up. I wanted to get a digital camera and poke around with some radios or phones. Maybe actually give my tinker-tech phone the ability to make a phone call. Dialing 911 might come in handy someday. A mask would be nice. Nothing fancy. Just a normal balaclava to put over my face in an emergency.

"Taylor?"

My first thought was Emma. But no.

It's just Greg.

Any normal person would notice the way I tried to walk off and take the hint.

What is he even doing here?

"Hey Taylor!"

I stopped in front of a clothing store and sighed.

"What, Greg?"

He just smiled like a goofball, and yes his eyes for some reason took a glance at my non-existent chest area. I really didn't want to be one of those judgmental girls who looked down on guys reeking of desperation, but honestly Greg just made it so damn hard.

"Just curious," he said. "You haven't been to school in weeks. Are you okay?"

"I got shoved in a locker filled with toxins Greg."

"Well you look pretty good all things considered."

Honestly? If my life happened to be a little more normal, his social awkwardness might actually be endearing. Greg is like a drift car. Once he gets going, he just keeps going because resistance is a suggestion at best.

Annoying as he was, I couldn't hate him outright.

Of all the students at Winslow, he's the only one who really tried interacting with me. He never spoke out against the bullies or anything, but given my own treatment I figured he'd just wind up like me if he did. It's not like he was a teacher or anything. Greg had no more power than I did, ignoring the whole 'super powers' thing.

Greg wasn't someone I should hate.

He's still socially inept though.

"I'm homeschooling now."

"Oh. That's cool I guess. Are you here for the new Canary album? I skipped out of class a little early."

"No Greg." I'm not much of a music person. "Just doing some shopping."

Excuse. Someone give me an excuse.

"Cool. Cool. You want to get a slice or something at the food court?"

Take the hint already.

"I'm really busy." I turned to move away, hoping he'd finally get the message. Any excuse would do, and it so happens Greg stopped me in front of the best one in the world.

"So if you don't mind, I need to finish up and go meet my dad."

I walked right into the Victoria's Secret. Maybe I'm inexperienced with boys, but I doubted even Greg had the courage to follow me into a lingerie store. I was right. He stood awkwardly outside for a little bit and then went off to do whatever. Canary's new album I guess.

Unfortunately, that left me in the middle of a lingerie store. More than a few mirrors lined the walls. Mirrors that showed a tall, thin girl with no curves, a mouth that was too wide, and ears that were too big. Just what I needed. A reminder of all my body image issues plus a whole bunch of things I could never afford.

I'm going to blame Greg for this. It's not fair but I'm gonna.

"Can I help you ma'am?" The clerk who approached me was a slightly older and a much more attractive woman.

I felt kind of bad as she started to show me some things. "Sorry." I glanced to the front just to be sure. "There was this boy from school and he kind of wouldn't take the hint, so I ducked in here to hide."

She frowned but shrugged. "Sweetie, you have no idea how often it happens. Desperate or stupid?"

"Little bit of both?"

She shook her head. "Hide as long as you need. Just don't bother the customers."

"Thanks."

"Girls gotta stick together."

I stuck around for a little bit, but really the store just wasn't my kind of place. My underwear drawer consisted mostly of plain white garments and a few sports bras for running. Not that I needed the latter that much, but even a small chest can get uncomfortable when exerting yourself. Their sports bras actually looked pretty nice.

Eh. Why not?

They let me hide out in their store. Might as well buy a sports bra in thanks. I didn't spot any sign of Greg after leaving the store, which I took as a blessing.

The Sears at one end of the mall sold a decent selection of cameras that could be useful in my tinkering. My efforts at the moment obviously lay in things I could build in my house and hide. As cool as a laser gun might be, I doubted I'd be able to explain something so conspicuous should it be found. My beam saber looked like pepper spray unless you looked closely, but its power was limited in an emergency.

Digital cameras tended to come with good batteries that could be recharged. With my power I'd be able to improve the batteries significantly, so mostly I looked for battery life. The rest of the camera could become…well, a camera. I wanted to build a web-cam so that Veda could see me in my room. The phone camera worked, but only if I held it up after all.

It would play into my Ebay cover too. Everyone needed pictures of what they were buying.

"Do you hear that?" someone behind me asked.

"Hear what?"

A couple near the front of the department store poked their heads out while I waited in line. I'd picked out a phone with low picture and memory, but with a bizarrely long-lasting battery. Way better than the others. Looked rugged too, so the parts were probably sturdy.

I only raised my head when the pair behind me started talking. "Hey I hear it now."

"Hear what?"

"Sounds like a motor."

"I don't hear anything."

"Come on. How can you not hear that?"

I raised my head. I did hear something. Like a metal rattle. It grew louder and closer, and as it did it started to sound familiar. I cocked my head to the side. I heard metal rattling, and feet?

"Who are they?" I don't know which of them it was. I was busy looking for the source of the noise. One of the two though gasped.

A window shattered, and screams rang out through the store. My head bounced off the ground before I could do anything. The rushing crowd practically threw me over a display, and a ripping sound echoed in my ears. My leg suddenly cried out in sharp pain. The noise rattled in my skull and someone started shouting.

"Hello Northside Mall!"

My hand found a pretty big bump on the back of my head. It throbbed something fierce. I sat up, while the voice coming over the speakers made the throbbing worse.

"I'm Leet."

"And I'm Uber."

"And welcome to the latest rendition of the Uber—"

"And Leet!"

"—Show!"

I blinked a few times to clear my vision. The crowd had parted around me. Well, not me as much as the shattered jewelry display I'd been thrown into. Men and women scrambled for the doors, and from the corner of my eye I saw a woman lose her grip on a little girl as a group of men rushed past her.

"Today's theme, in respect for our surroundings, is Dead Rising! The first one. Not the third one."

"The second one was okay."

"Yeah but the first one was better."

"True enough, Leet."

Behind the crowd, rushing in from the mall itself were a dozen shambling bodies.

"Indeed, Uber. Grab your bludgeoning tools, folks!"

That's how I found myself on the floor of a Sears with a wall of zombies running at me.

"The army of the dead is coming!"