Saturday, January 29, 2011

Carol Dallon, AKA Brandish, entered the kitchen at seven AM to make coffee to wake herself up for the day, to find her only biological daughter sitting at the kitchen table in her costume looking somewhat disheveled, staring into a bowl of soggy cereal as if it held the secrets of the universe.

"You're up early, Vicky," she noted, yawning widely, then putting some coffee beans in the electric grinder and turning it on. The loud noise drowned out any response her daughter made for a few seconds. Filling the coffee maker with water and beans she turned it on, then rummaged in the refrigerator for the milk.

Turning around holding the bottle she saw the blonde girl hadn't moved, holding the spoon in the cereal but not doing anything with it. "Are you OK, Vicky?" she asked, somewhat concerned. The girl's expression was fixed in a blank stare that was a little unusual. Normally it was fairly lively and animated, Victoria Dallon was nothing if not outgoing.

Eventually her daughter looked up. "I think I did something really stupid last night, Mom," she said quietly. Her expression changed to one of confused sadness. "Really stupid."

Carol inspected her, then turned to the coffee maker, which was making grunting sounds now as it expelled hot dark liquid into the pot. Waiting until it was full she turned the machine off, took the pot, a mug, and the milk to the table, then sat down across from her daughter. Preparing a mug of coffee she looked up. "Tell me," she instructed, more or less gently, as the young woman was clearly upset.

"I had another fight with Dean yesterday," Vicky began after stirring her cereal around for a bit, then dropping the spoon and pushing the bowl away with tired disgust.

"Why?"

"I… don't really know. He was being vague and distant like he was worried about something and he wouldn't tell me what, but that's not all of it. I just..." She shrugged, and sighed. "I don't know." she repeated.

"You over-reacted to a perceived slight and stormed off again?" Carol knew her daughter. Sullenly, the girl nodded a little.

"I guess. Maybe. Yes."

"All right. That's unfortunate, but hardly unusual. It's what, four times in the last month?" Smiling at her Carol sipped her coffee, then added a little more milk.

"It's not the fight that's stupid..." Vicky began, then caught sight of her mother's expression and stopped. "OK, maybe it is. I'll have to go and apologize to him, he didn't really do anything and he'd just bought me this nice bracelet." She raised her wrist to show it off. "I forgot to take it off when I changed and left."

"That was silly, dear," Carol noted with a frown. "You could have lost it in a fight, he'd have been annoyed. It looks expensive."

"I know. That's part of it."

"What's the other part?" Clearly whatever it was seemed to be disturbing Vicky.

"I met a new cape yesterday. I… may have been looking for a fight and over-reacted."

Carol stared for a few seconds, then sighed heavily, putting her coffee down very carefully and folding her hands on the table. Fixing her daughter with a look that had brought many a plaintiff to the point of near tears in court, she asked slowly, "What did you do, Vicky?"

There was an uncomfortable pause as the blonde opened her mouth, then closed it again.

"Victoria Dallon, what did you do?"

"I… sort of jumped to conclusions, that she was a villain, because of how she looked? Then was really rude to her?"

Raising an eyebrow while inside she felt a sinking sensation, Carol waited.

"And… I may have threatened her? A bit?"

There was another pause. Carol sighed again.

"And… I sort of… poked her? Three times?"

"Are you asking me or telling me all this, dear?" the older woman grumbled, finding the annoying questioning tone irritating. It was a sign of how nervous her daughter was that she was falling into that idiotic Californian stereotypical cheerleader upspeak, which she personally thought sounded like the speaker didn't know what they were talking about.

"Telling you, I guess?" Vicky smiled a little for a moment, then went blank again as her mother fixed her with another look. "Telling you."

Leaning back, Carol picked up her coffee cup and took another sip from it before returning it to the table, not taking her eyes from the girl, who fidgeted. "Who was the cape?" she asked in the end.

"She said her name was Saurial. I've never seen her before although I recognized the name, I saw it on PHO a couple of days ago. I didn't read the thread much."

"Why did you think she might be a villain?" Carol couldn't place the name, but that wasn't surprising, she didn't keep up much with current gossip.

"She's a giant lizard, mom! Over six feet tall, with a long tail, scales, and big teeth. Dark blue costume with a gold dragon's head on it."

"A case 53?"

"I don't know. Maybe. She sure doesn't look normal or even human, though."

"Capes can't help what they look like if their powers change them, dear, you know that. There's no call to jump to conclusions about it."

"I know. I'm sorry, but it was a shock. She was walking around on the edge of a building downtown, talking to herself, then dropped something off it. I was… really pissed off, and when I saw her..." She sighed and shrugged. "I may have sort of waded in without thinking."

"What did you do?" Carol winced. "You didn't hit her, I hope."

"No. I asked her who she was." Vicky swallowed hard. "Or what."

Covering her eyes, Carol shook her head. "Oh, wonderful. What a brilliant introduction. Then what?"

"I asked her whether she was a hero or a villain. Loudly. She said hero, and told me to check with the cops if I didn't believe her." Vicky looked down at the table with an expression of shame on her face. "I… sort of insulted them as well. She seemed so sure they'd back her up and it annoyed me. The last time I talked to a cop he was really rude."

"As I recall you had just managed to destroy his car by hitting it with a dumpster you threw, dear," Carol sighed. "Completely missing Krieg with it. He was standing on the other side of the street laughing about it, which didn't improve the situation."

Her daughter's face flushed a little at the memory. "All right, go on. What else?"

"I asked why she was on the roof and why. She said she was looking at the view and having a snack. I told her I didn't like her then poked her. A bit. Only three times."

"You… poked… her?" Carol asked in a somewhat incredulous tone.

"With my finger. She was wearing some sort of armor and didn't really seem to mind. Or notice, actually." Vicky looked embarrassed as her mother covered her eyes again.

"Oh, Vicky."

"Then I…" She stopped again, but continued when her mother looked hard at her, ducking her head in shame. "...called her an overgrown newt."

Sighing, Carol shook her head. "What did she do?"

"Called me a speciesist."

"There's no such word."

"That's what I said!" Vicky yelped. "But she said there was. Then she grabbed my wrist and held it when I poked her again, before she pushed me across the roof and asked me to stop doing it and go away."

"She pushed you?" Carol was more than a little surprised at this.

Vicky nodded with a troubled expression. "She's strong. Really strong, and fast too, I could hardly see her hand move. I was flying so there wasn't any real grip but even when I tried pushing back she kept going. Then she let go with another push and asked me to go away."

"Did you?"

She felt like she was cross-examining a witness, one who was both guilty and reluctant.

"I… told her I was keeping my eye on her, then flew away." Vicky shrugged. "That's it. I found some E88 idiots trashing a store, beat them up a little, then went and sat on the top of the Medhall building and tried to calm down. Then came home. I was half-way back when I realized how it would look to an outsider, and started calming down and thinking about what I did. I couldn't sleep so I've been sitting here half the night, worrying about it."

Shaking her head in despair, Carol replied, "I really thought we raised you better than that, dear. You could have managed to get us into serious trouble. Hopefully this Saurial will accept an apology, which you will give her if you see her again. And mean it."

The girl was silent, but nodded. There was something about her expression that made Carol's heart drop again.

"What else?" she asked slowly.

"I didn't realize until I got home..." Vicky said, before stopping for a moment. "She was wearing a little camera on her head."

"Oh, fuck." Carol stared in horror. "You mean she caught all this on tape? Just fucking fantastic." She didn't even feel ashamed about her language, she was so startled and worried.

"I couldn't see a light on it which is why I didn't really notice it, so maybe it was off?" Vicky replied, sounding hopeful.

"We have no idea if it was or not," her mother sighed. "Some cameras don't have lights. Vicky, I've told you and told you, always assume cameras are recording! Don't do anything in front of one that will bring disrepute to New Wave. We're under a microscope all the time we go out in costume, you know that, and even a lot of the time otherwise. This could be very bad for public relations."

The girl nodded, looking upset. "I know."

"You really made a bad impression."

"I know."

"And acted in an irresponsible manner that I find disturbing."

"I know, mom! I told you that, remember? I was pissed off, and not thinking about it properly. She guessed that I'd had a fight with my boyfriend somehow and that made it worse. And she completely ignored my aura which was just weird and a little scary. I'm sorry."

"Sorry may not be enough this time, dear," Carol sighed. "How did Saurial react?"

Vicky frowned slightly. "She was… calm and polite, even when I poked her. I could tell she was annoyed, at least a little, but she didn't really do much except ask me to stop and go away, then grab my wrist when I poked her the third time. She seemed… reasonable, I guess, looking back on it."

Nodding, Carol sipped some more coffee while she thought, her daughter waiting for her. "OK. As I said, if you run into her again, apologize. Sincerely and respectfully. Don't mention the camera in public. I'll make some inquiries and see if I can get her contact details, then see if I can politely ask for any footage to be destroyed, if she doesn't mind, please and thank you."

She sighed yet again, shaking her head. "I don't like having to go cap in hand to anyone, especially because of something my hot-headed daughter did without thinking it through. PLEASE think more carefully next time. You have no idea what she's capable of, aside from the fact that she's obviously much stronger than common even for a cape. You don't want to find out the hard way that she's actually got a counter for your powers. You know as well as I do that you're not actually invulnerable, not after the first hit."

"She doesn't know that," Vicky noted. Her mother glared, making her shrink back in her seat.

"Not the point."

"Yes, Mom."

"Go and change, and take a shower. You've got E88 on you. I'm going shopping and you're coming with me, I want to keep an eye on you for a while."

"Yes, Mom." Obediently, the young woman got up and headed upstairs, while Carol finished her coffee.

"Oh, Vicky," she mumbled, then poured herself another one.

"Dad?"

"Yes, Dear?" Danny looked up from making bacon and eggs, finding his daughter had at least this time not grazed on the latter raw to the point there were none left. He still found this new habit something that slightly turned his stomach but she seemed to enjoy it and there were no apparent ill effects, so all he was doing was buying twice the normal amount these days.

"Who owns the wrecked ships in the bay? And the ones in the graveyard?"

Inspecting her for a moment, he went back to the frying pan when the sizzling sound changed tone, flipping the bacon over and pressing it flat with the spatula.

"Technically, the city, I think. Most of them were seized as bankrupt assets after the rioting when half a dozen shipping companies went under. The rest of them were sold to the city for salvage but for one reason or another, that never happened. There's at least a couple of million dollars worth of scrap lying around out there, probably much more, but it would cost even more than it's worth to dredge it up and cut it into small enough pieces to take away, so no one ever bothered. All the really valuable stuff was salvaged early on, like copper, brass, electronics, that sort of thing."

Flipping the cooked bacon onto a plate with a couple of sheets of paper towel on it to absorb the excess grease, he turned it over a couple of times, then put it in the warm oven while he cracked four eggs into the frying pan and pushed the lever of the toaster down.

"They also recovered almost all the fuel and oil on the ships, which is good or that tanker going down would have caused a hell of a mess. It was mostly empty anyway, only a few thousand barrels left on board, since it had nearly finished pumping a load to shore, when the rioters hijacked it, ran it aground, and sank it across the entrance to the bay blocking the deep channel. The rest was removed by the company that owned it a month or so later but the ship wasn't worth salvaging by then. It was a pretty old vessel even at that point."

He watched the eggs bubble for a moment, then looked at her. "Most of the ships in the graveyard have been completely stripped by various people or capes over the years, so there's not much left but rusty hulls now, although some of them are actually in quite good condition. They could be refitted and refloated if someone wanted to spend the money, I suppose, but no one seems to care these days."

Ladling bacon grease over the tops of the eggs as they sizzled in the large pan, he waited until the yolks skinned over, then sprinkled them with paprika in the manner that Annette had shown him. When they were done, he put the toast which popped up right on schedule on two plates, slid the eggs on top, then added the bacon from the oven, along with some fried tomatoes for him and some fried mushrooms for her. Taylor was sitting at the table listening and watching with an interested expression.

Taking the plates over, he put hers in front of her then sat down with his own breakfast, picking up the glass of orange juice at his place. "Why are you interested in that?"

"I was wondering if anyone would mind if I cleaned it up."

He choked on his juice, then looked at her wide-eyed when he finished coughing.

"Excuse me?" he queried, shock on his face. She was grinning a little at his reaction.

"I went and had a look at the tanker last night," she told him, amused as he stared. "It's not that heavy. I could move it out of the way."

"You..." He shook his head hard and tried again. "You think you could move that enormous thing? It must be a good thirty to thirty five thousand tons empty. Not the biggest tanker by a long way, there were some absolutely immense ones back before Leviathan screwed things up for everyone, but it's not exactly small. From memory it's over seven hundred feet long."

"It's pretty big, sure, but I managed to push it a few feet to the side without all that much trouble," she smiled.

He choked again.

"I put it back," she added.

"Good," he replied very faintly after several seconds. Staring in disbelief he finally shook his head. "Did anyone see you?"

"I doubt it, no one was around except for a little fishing boat with one guy in it about three miles away," she replied. "He didn't seem to notice. I sort of bent the propeller shaft, though. It's not very strong."

Shaking his head in wonder, he kept staring at his daughter as if he'd never seen her before. "How big were you?"

"I think about a hundred and fifty feet long or so?" she replied thoughtfully. "We came up with a swimming version of the combat form with a longer tail like an alligators, which made moving around underwater really easy and fun. I could spend hours doing that if I wanted to relax. I was probably about… maybe eighty feet tall if I was standing upright? My head was just under the surface there, it's shallower than I thought."

"Unbelievable. Just…," he groped for the words, then weakly repeated, "…unbelievable."

"After I tried moving the tanker I went for a swim outside the bay for a while," she went on. "I probably went a few miles out, the water gets a lot deeper quite fast then levels off. Maybe five hundred feet or so? It's covered in mud with all sorts of garbage lying around in it. Lots of fish and other things."

"Good god," he finally said. "How deep could you go?"

She cocked her head, then replied, "Varga said all the way to the bottom in the deep parts."

"That's insane," he remarked, not knowing what else to say. "Even a whale can't dive that deep. Hardly any machines can either."

"I can. I don't know why I'd want to, from what I've read there's practically nothing down there except rocks and mud, but he said I could if I wanted to. He suggested it would be more comfortable at full size but it's not particularly hard." She looked pleased while he gaped.

"I was thinking I could push the tanker into deeper water pretty easily, and get it out of the way. I could probably shove it up onto the shore somewhere if that was a better idea, and cut it into smaller pieces with my sword. Would that help?"

There was a long pause during which she started eating. After a while he did the same, thinking hard.

"If you just went and did it, there would be… a lot of questions," he finally said after several minutes. "Not that anyone is going to ignore it anyway, but it would be a better idea to do it in an official manner rather than just heaving the thing to the side." He shook his head again, then cut some more bacon, chewing it thoughtfully. Swallowing, he went on, "If you're actually serious about it, I'd need to talk to the mayor and see if I could get him to sign off on it. He'd probably go for it if it didn't cost the city anything."

"Could we sell the metal if I get it to shore?" she asked curiously. "The money would help the DWU and other people."

Putting his fork down he picked up his glass of juice, taking a drink, then leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling. The idea was… interesting. The mere fact that they were seriously considering his beloved but obviously insane daughter turning into a monster from the depths big enough to give Leviathan pause then casually pulling a Suezmax-class tanker onto the shore was surreal, but she seemed certain she could actually do it.

Eventually he looked at her. "I need to talk to a few people. Carefully and discreetly. Please don't go throwing cargo ships around for fun just yet, dear. But I think you might have found something socially useful to do which could help a lot of people. More so than hitting things very hard."

She snickered, cutting her egg up. "I can do that too," she replied with a giggle.

"I know, dear, I've seen the video."

"Hey, speaking of that, I met Glory Girl last night. She was in a shitty mood and shouted at me. I had my camera on, want to see it? It was… weird."

Shaking his head, he smiled. "All right, but you should probably delete it afterwards. You don't want to get New Wave annoyed at you if you can help it."

Shrugging, she nodded. "OK. I was going to erase it anyway, but I thought you might think it was funny. She went red at one point. I have no idea why but she was really pissed at me, then she flew away."

"Strange. Maybe she doesn't like lizards?"

"Why not? I'm adorable as Saurial," she grinned, making his roll his eyes then get back to his breakfast before it got cold.

"To me you're always adorable, but other people might not see it the same way," he smiled.

"Thanks, Dad," she told him, finishing her bacon, then getting up. "I need a shower. I'll see you in a little while."

Watching as she disappeared, the end of her tail vanishing around the corner of the doorway, he shook his head in wonder. "Clean up the ships? She thinks big," he muttered in awe.

"Thanks, Dad!" she yelled from upstairs, making him snicker, then get back to eating as he heard the shower start.

"Hi, Dean." Vicky's voice was considerably less cocky than usual. Dean sat up from where he'd been lying on the sofa reading a book on his day off duty, checking his watch. It was just after lunch. He was a little surprised, normally the young woman took at least a couple of days to cool down, so he wasn't expecting to hear from her until Monday at school.

"Hi, Vicky," he replied as these thoughts went through his mind. "Look, I'm sorry about whatever I did last night to upset you."

She was quiet for a moment, then replied, "It wasn't your fault, Dean. I over-reacted."

This really surprised him. She'd never apologized like that before. From the tone of her voice she was genuinely sorry as well, not just saying it.

"That's nice to know, I guess," he said a little uncertainly. "Are you all right? You sound… tired."

"I'm exhausted," she said. "I didn't get any sleep worth mentioning last night and was sitting in the kitchen thinking for most of it. Then Mom got really annoyed with me when I told her what I did and took me shopping with her to keep an eye on me. We only got back just a few minutes ago." Her voice became aggrieved. "She wouldn't let me fly, I had to walk everywhere! Walking is so slow!"

Grinning, he tried not to let the laugh he was keeping quiet come out in his voice. "Poor Vicky. Having to walk like the rest of us. What a come down."

"Exactly!" she giggled, sounding more cheerful. "You get it. Why can't Mom? Walking is for peons, not someone like me. You know, cute, pretty, stylish..."

Letting the laugh out, he got up and walked to the window, looking out to see if the snow had melted yet, which it had. The day looked fair although overcast. Peering at the clouds and wondering if it would start snowing again, he nodded even though she couldn't see it.

"I understand how it would disturb you, you poor girl. So why were you having trouble sleeping?"

There was a long pause.

"I fucked up," she finally admitted in a low voice.

Worried, but not exactly surprised, he asked, "How? This time, I mean."

"Oh, thanks a bunch, Dean," she snapped, sounding like her old self for a moment. He said nothing, waiting. Eventually she sighed again and carried on reluctantly, "I met a new cape, insulted her, technically assaulted her, insulted the police who she seems to respect in front of her, then threatened her."

"You did what!" he yelped, shocked despite himself. After a long moment, a horrible sinking sensation grew in the pit of his stomach. "Vicky, please tell me this cape wasn't Saurial..."

"How did you know?" she asked, surprised.

"I thought of the worst cape that could be considered new to insult and she was the first name that came to mind," he groaned. "Oh, god, Vicky, what did you do. And what did she do?"

He listened to the story with incredulity. By the time she finished, sounding meek and worried, he was sitting on the sofa again shaking his head in wondering amazement. Neither of them said anything for a little while.

"Do you know her?" Vicky finally asked.

"We've met. Vista and I ran into her down town on Tuesday night and talked for a while."

"What did you think about her?" his girlfriend asked, sounding worried. "Will she erase that recording if she actually made one?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes shut, Dean sighed. How the hell was it that Saurial, whoever that girl was, kept coming up in his life so much recently? "She… probably would. If you asked very politely. She seemed reasonable enough as long as you stay away from the subject of her family. She's a bit touchy about that."

"Is she dangerous? Do you know what her powers are?"

"Stronger than you, faster than you, can make enormous swords and hammers that are impossibly heavy and apparently unbreakable out of something no one seems to know anything about, some sort of super senses, can climb buildings like they're level ground..." He trailed off as she gasped. He didn't say anything about their suspicions that Saurial was a Changer on top of all that, even though he now knew for sure it was true. Especially because of that.

"I really wouldn't pick a fight with her, Vicky," he added quietly. "You can fly, she can't, but if she gets her hands on you she could probably unscrew your head and eat it."

"Shit," the girl on the phone whispered. "I sure can pick them."

"That you can. I suggest you mean it when you apologize. I don't think she's someone you want as an enemy."

"Do you think she'd accept it?"

"I think so, but you should probably wait a day or two before you go looking for her to let her cool off first. Don't leave it too long, though." After a moment's mutual silence, he asked, "Do you want me to come over?"

"No, not right now," she replied, then yawned. "I need some sleep. I'll call you later."

"OK, Vicky. Sleep well."

She hung up, so he put his phone down next to him and leaned back, shaking his head. "Fuck me, Vicky, I warned you your temper would get you into trouble one day," he grumbled. "I hope Saurial is in a good mood the next time you meet her."

"Any idea what it was?" Armsmaster asked, looking at the image of the woman's face on the screen in his lab. She shook her head looking troubled.

"No, not really. The readings were… very inconclusive. The passive sonar network was returning extremely odd readings, they kept fading and then reappearing somewhere else, and don't quite match anything in the database. Seismographic readings suggest something moved underwater near the mouth of the bay, or possibly just outside it, and there were intermittent readings that went a little more than ten miles out into the Atlantic, near the sea bed. The thing that best fits the data is some form of underwater slippage or mudslide that sent debris down to the continental shelf and along it for some distance. It's a known phenomenon although not that common in such shallow water."

"Could it have had anything to do with Leviathan?" This was his biggest fear and one that gave him nightmares. Brockton Bay was very vulnerable to the Endbringer, due not only to its location but its geological makeup.

Dragon shook her head again. "No, definitely not. I'm tracking him off the coast of Australia at the moment, he's poking around deep under the Indian ocean for whatever reason, moving slowly."

"Good. Well, I'm curious, but it doesn't seem to be an immediate threat, so I think we just log it and move on. If it happens again, though, we should investigate. Do you have any submersible drones available?"

"Nothing specifically for that sort of job right now," she replied. "I'll look into designing one just in case."

"All right. That sounds acceptable." He smiled at her, about the only person he ever did that with, and got a smile in return. "Now, have you looked at the information I sent you on that… substance… that the new Cape Saurial apparently possesses the ability to make?"

Dragon's expression immediately became intrigued. "Yes. It looks impossible, as you said."

"I was holding a piece of it, right up the point it vanished, so it definitely exists. Do you have any theories?"

"Nothing that doesn't seem entirely nonsensical, no. We need a sample. Do you think you can get one?"

"I've asked all the Wards to request a small piece of it if the opportunity arises," he replied slowly. "I also asked that they wait until they know her better. I think she'll probably respond better to them than if I approach her, the reports suggest she is in the same age group and probably gets on better with her peers than adults. That is the normal situation with teenagers."

She looked calculatingly at him for a moment. "Hannah told you to do that last part, didn't she?"

"Yes." He sighed faintly as she smiled in triumph. "It seems inefficient but she knows more about how people work than I do, I'm well aware of that. I'm prepared to follow her advice in this matter."

"Even though you really want to run out, find Saurial, and bug her until she gives you some supermetal to play with..." Dragon grinned as he sighed again.

The conversation moved on to other subjects after that, both Tinkers soon deep in a conversation about miniaturized propulsion systems.