"Freeeee!"
Aisha smiled as she sang the blessed word, charging out of the school building and nearly running a couple of other students down. Finally, she was done with this boring waste of time for another day. And there was only one more day of it until the weekend, which was even better.
"Hey, crazy girl!" another somewhat older student shouted as he dived out of the way of the hurtling Aisha. "Slow down, you nearly hit me!"
"Missed though, right?" she shouted back, spinning around and running backwards for a few steps while spreading her arms wide. He glared at her, but didn't reply, so she spun around again and headed towards the gate and the sidewalk. It had stopped raining earlier during the afternoon, although it was still very breezy which made it pretty chilly too. Splashing through the puddles left behind she dropped into a steady jog, heading towards the city center with her backpack bouncing on her back.
Ten minutes later she'd slowed to a fast walk, not because she was tired as such, but more to conserve energy. Overall she was in pretty good condition and could easily jog all the way home from school although at the moment she was heading in the other direction entirely.
Looking around, she orientated herself, then took the next right turning, before going left again. Her destination soon hove into view. Appreciatively sniffing the breeze blowing from the bay towards her, she homed in on the bakery half-way down the street. When she reached it she looked at the large poster in the window with a smirk, shaking her head in amusement. Cloak looked back, holding a large box of doughnuts and with one of them half-vanished into her hood. The camera flash had very clearly shown that the garment was completely without occupant, although the bite out of the pastry tended to show the opposite.
Even the photo was somewhat eerie, especially if one was aware of the circumstances. It looked very weird, but oddly enough not like a special effect. She wasn't sure quite how that was pulled off but it was a nice touch. Once she'd inspected the poster she headed inside, joining the surprisingly large crowd around the counter. An awful lot of them seemed to have cameras to hand, which made her grin after a moment's thought.
'Bet none of them have gone walkabout with Cloak,' she mused with satisfaction. Her new friend seemed to have quite the fan club, based on what she could see and hear around her. And this place seemed to be the unofficial headquarters of said club.
When she reached the front of the queue she looked again at the menu board behind the register, snickered under her breath, and said, "One Cloak Special, please."
The guy working the register didn't bat an eyelid, instead turning around and preparing her order with quick efficiency. Shortly thereafter, box of pastries in her pack, one of the contents in one hand, and a bottle of coke in the other, she was happily munching away while walking towards the PRT building. With any luck she'd be able to sneak in and have a look at this new Ward at her press conference. Even if she failed, it would at least be interesting.
And she had doughnuts, so all was good for now.
"Nervous?"
Dinah looked at her mother, then smiled.
Nervously.
"No, of course not," she said, trying to convince herself. Her mother giggled, adjusting her clothing a little, before leaning forward in her chair and giving her a quick hug.
"I'll believe you," the older woman said with a smile back. "The question is do you believe yourself?"
Taking a deep breath, the young girl nodded firmly, adjusted her hat to a rakish angle, and turned to inspect herself in the mirror on the wall. Fiddling with the mask that covered the top half of her face down to just above her mouth, she replied, "I do. I think."
Gently moving her daughter's hands away, her mother carefully straightened the mask again. "Leave it alone, and it'll be fine," she advised. Dinah nodded again, doing her best not to fiddle. The thing wasn't really uncomfortable, but it felt weird and she was having trouble not playing with it.
"You look nice," her mother added. They studied the reflection in front of them, which showed a small figure wearing a dark blue skirt down to around her knees, cut so the sides of the skirt were longer than the middle, coming down past her knees by about the amount the center was above them. There were black leggings under it leading down to practical ankle boots with a very slight heel, and a lighter blue top above all this. She had a narrow leather belt around her waist with a silver buckle in the shape of a percent sign, something that she'd come up with herself as a fairly subtle nod to her power.
She'd actually wanted a dragon's head, thinking of her own stuffed dragon, but the PRT people had been nervous that this suggested she was associated with the Family. Dinah herself had no objection to that at all, feeling that it was a good association with new friends, but they'd insisted it wasn't suitable. Hence the change, which had ended up being something that weird Mr Chambers seemed to like.
On the left side of her top a small Protectorate logo was visible, also in silver. The overall effect was feminine but businesslike, in her view, and less girly than Vista's costume. And much, much better than the horrible thing Mr Chambers had tried to get her to wear. She rolled her eyes at the memory.
A suit.
What a weirdo.
The hat was nice, though. She liked the hat a lot.
Whatever, she could live with this. It was even slightly reminiscent of Saurial's armor, if you looked at it the right way. Dinah found it a little funny that apparently no one else had noticed. Or at least mentioned it. She'd have been quite prepared to have something that looked even more like that if the chance had presented itself, although even there she'd have preferred her normal jeans and T shirt. But that was apparently too casual for a superhero. As if she was going to be wandering around outside beating up villains…
Slightly wishing her powers allowed that option, since it looked like it might be fun, she shrugged mentally. You got what you got, and even with the headaches her power was still pretty cool. On the whole it was better than no powers at all, although she'd have liked to have more control over it. Being forced to answer was a pain in the ass.
Director Piggot had made it very clear to the other Wards when she'd been introduced to them that they were to watch their speech around her, and under no circumstances play pranks involving asking questions that she would have to answer. The older woman had been looking steadily at Dennis the entire time she'd been talking, making it abundantly clear who she thought was the most likely potential culprit. The red-headed boy had looked distinctly nervous at the basilisk-like glare even though he was normally pretty much irrepressible according to Missy.
She'd also been told that similar warnings had been given to everyone else she was likely to come into contact with. Partly due to worries about her own safety, and partly due to not wanting to waste her power on silly questions and then find out too late that she couldn't answer something critical at the right moment. It was a rule she was fine with, since those headaches were very unpleasant at best. Even though she'd grown accustomed to them to a point and had a fairly high pain threshold she still didn't want to push it.
Hopefully, at some point, maybe her new friends could help with that? Ianthe had seemed to think it might be possible. But for now, she had to grin and bear it.
A tap on the door preceded Miss Militia opening it and sticking her head inside, her eyes showing she was smiling under that scarf. "It's getting close to the event, Prospect," she said in a kind voice. "Are you ready?"
Dinah nodded, adjusting her hat again just a little, to make sure it looked exactly right. Just like Saurial's. Satisfied, she gave her reflection a wave and turned around. "I'm ready," she replied.
"Great. Follow me, then, please." Both Dinah and her mother left the room as Miss Militia held the door for them, then trailed after her through the corridors of the PRT building to another room on the next floor up. The heroine held the door again and waved them in.
"Good afternoon, Prospect," Armsmaster said in a calm even voice, standing up from where he'd been sitting at the table in what looked like a conference room. Dinah looked around quickly, seeing it wasn't particularly interesting, although it did have a lot of technology built into it all over the place. Director Piggot was still sitting at the table with a pile of paperwork in front of her, next to one of the people she recognized from the PR department and had been introduced to a while back. Mr Garson, if she remembered correctly. He was studying her with an approving expression on his face, making her smile briefly at him.
She turned back to Armsmaster as everyone else watched and listened. The Tinker picked up a small box that was on the table, opening it to reveal something he'd mentioned the last time they'd met. "As we discussed the last time these communication earplugs will hopefully allow us to minimize any potential issues with the press conference. They will add a delay of three seconds to what you hear, which will allow a handler to interrupt any questions you may get asked that would trigger your power. This can be overridden if required, and they will also act as standard PRT comms earpieces. Dragon and I are working on a more effective solution using a neural network speech recognition system which would hopefully remove the need for a third party to filter out the relevant queries but it's a complex task we haven't quite finished yet due to other priority matters."
She understood most of that, although she once again thought the man wasn't very good at talking to kids. He probably didn't get much practice, she mused as she reached out and picked up one of the small earpieces. It was exactly the same color as her skin and she assumed it would be completely invisible when it was in her ear. Both of them were a weird shape, which had been produced using an unpleasantly cold goo that had been squirted in to take a cast of the inside of her ear canal. The PRT tech who had done this told her it was the same thing that was used for making custom hearing aids, which was more or less what these things were.
"Cool," she muttered, squeezing it gently and feeling the rubbery substance squish in her fingers.
"Indeed," he said with what was almost a smile. He seemed to like his work being appreciated, which she could understand. "Please sit here and I'll fit them for you."
"OK." She hopped up into the nearest chair, glancing at her mother who was standing next to Miss Militia, both of them watching her.
"Tilt your head to the right, please," Armsmaster instructed. Obediently she did as requested, holding still as he carefully pushed the left earpiece into place. "This applicator tool will also remove them, it connects magnetically to the device," he explained, glancing at her mother who nodded. "They're safe to leave in for extended periods, the polymer used is fully bio-compatible." Dinah could only hear him from her right ear, the left one was completely blocked by the thing in it.
Satisfied after a few seconds of work, he asked her to tip her head the other way. Moments later both were installed. She couldn't hear anything but the sound of her own pulse at this point. Stepping back he picked up a small remote control device and pressed a button on it. "Can you hear me, Prospect?" he said, his voice coming through perfectly. She nodded.
"Yes, it's fine. Before you pressed that button I couldn't hear a thing."
"Excellent. Obviously, this is the override mode. I will now test the delay mode." He prodded another button. "Can you hear me now?" This time she could see his lips move and only heard his voice after a weirdly unnerving pause. She nodded again.
"Yep. Oh, wow, that's really freaky." She could hear her own voice inside her head, and then again through her ears three seconds later. "Testing… Testing… Hello, I'm Prospect..." She giggled at the effect which was going to take some getting used to.
Pressing another yet another button resulted in her hearing him again, only this time his lips barely moved. "This is the comm-link mode, I'm speaking to you via secure PRT radio. Is the reception adequate?"
"It's perfect," she replied, smiling. "Very cool indeed."
"Good." He switched her earpieces back to override mode, then turned to Director Piggot, who had been watching silently. "That should be a suitable interim solution until Dragon and I finish the enhanced version."
"Thank you, Armsmaster," the severe looking blonde woman replied with an approving nod. "As usual, first rate work." Dinah noticed with inner amusement that although he tried to hide it, the comment pleased the Tinker. He straightened up a little and nodded back, before sitting down once again and picking up some sort of computer tablet which quickly absorbed his attention to the point that he practically ignored them all.
The director seemed to stifle a tiny sigh, turning to look at Dinah, then her mother. "We'll be heading down to the public arena in ten minutes. Mrs Alcott, you can either watch from here on the big screen over there," she waved at a huge monitor that made up most of one wall, "Or from behind the scenes at the event itself. We won't put you somewhere that's visible to the public, since it's a security risk having you even peripherally associated with your daughter. There are people who might well go to some effort to note anyone at the press briefing who wouldn't normally have any particular reason to be there."
"I understand," Dinah's mother said, sounding a little sad but not too much. She put a hand on Dinah's shoulder, looking down at her. "Sorry I can't watch it from the front but I'm proud of you, dear."
"I know, Mom," the girl replied, placing her own hand on her mother's.
"If you need to use the facilities, now would be a good time," Miss Militia put in with humor in her voice. "Trust me, that's one pressure you don't want when talking to the press."
Snickering, Dinah nodded. "I'll be fine, I went before I changed."
"All right."
The director and Mr Garson, who was in fact named Mr Garson so she'd remembered correctly, went over the sort of questions she was likely to be asked, as well as the sort they hoped she wouldn't be. They told her the correct form for answering, information she'd already had the last time, and also mostly things Uncle Roy had talked to her about. He was really good at handling the press and made it look easy, something she was very impressed by, so she'd listened carefully. Once the pair had gone over everything, the director checked her watch. "It's time. Let's get down there. Mrs Alcott, if you could go with Mr Garson please, he'll take you to the viewing area in the PRT recording studio. Prospect, please come with me."
Standing, the woman headed rapidly towards the door, Miss Militia with her and Dinah coming too. She looked over her shoulder to see her mother heading in the other direction, also looking back. They smiled at each other then went their separate ways.
Aisha studied the problem with care. There was the PRT building, that was the public entrance, and those were the PRT guys who were watching very carefully as people went inside. The reception lobby was easy enough, people could simply walk in off the street and wander around inside, but she could see that there was a stream of obvious press people heading to one side through a set of doors towards what she assumed was the place that they used to introduce new Parahumans.
From the news she remembered it was a large conference room, half the size of the school gymnasium, with a sort of stage at one end. Sometimes they did this outside in good weather, but it was much too windy and wet for that right now, as well as cold.
"Hmm," she mumbled to herself, nibbling a doughnut. "Tricky."
She could lift one of the press IDs easily enough, but there was no way that anyone was going to believe she was a reporter unless they were both blind and stupid. Despite what people said about the PRT she was pretty sure they were neither. She looked around, seeking inspiration, then watched as a large van pulled up outside the building and stopped. It had the logo of a large Boston TV station on the side, one she was very familiar with from her dad watching the news. The woman who climbed down from the passenger side was also familiar as a reporter she'd seen any number of times.
The back doors of the van opened and two big guys started unloading and setting up some equipment, while the dish antenna on the roof of the thing slowly folded up with a whine of motors, then swiveled around to face roughly south. It hunted back and forth a little, before stopping. Moving to a better position she could see right inside the vehicle, which had a good dozen monitors above a console built into one side with several seats facing them.
'Cool, just like a movie,' she thought with interest, watching as a technician connected cables to panels, the other end being handed down to one of the guys outside. Quite rapidly they had a complicated camera set up on a tripod, the reporter and one of the other guys talking in front of it while referring to a clipboard with a thick stack of paperwork on it.
Aisha's eyes drifted towards pile of equipment the two men had unloaded. Some of it was now in use, but there was a certain amount that had been put on a sort of cart thing which looked like it was destined to go inside. She thought about it and decided that they were probably going to have a camera outside and another one inside, rather than carrying this one around with them. It made sense to her. She knew from watching TV that sometimes this sort of thing was done with hand held cameras, but a formal event often had much larger and more complicated ones. They were sometimes visible on the broadcast itself.
The thing that was relevant about all this was that cart. It was a metal one about a yard tall, with a flat top and four large tires which looked like they were designed to easily roll over rough ground. The lower part of it had on the side she could see from where she was a pair of doors, and it obviously had a storage compartment there. This was proven when one of the techs opened the door and put a box of cables inside the thing. Her brief glimpse of it suggested it was mostly empty…
Looking down at herself for a moment, she looked back at the cart with her head on one side in an evaluating manner, then finished her doughnut. Looking both ways, she crossed the street when the slow moving traffic left a gap, then idly headed towards the van, looking around like any other tourist. There were lots of them watching the news van and the other cars and trucks stopping to disgorge people outside the building.
She stopped a few feet from the entrance to the PRT building and studied the scene. How to do this?
Sidling closer to the van while innocently peering up at the building, she jumped a little when there was a screech of brakes followed by a lot of swearing. She, along with everyone else in the area including the PRT troopers who were supervising the arriving press people, looked to see that a cab had tried unsuccessfully to wedge himself past one of the other TV vehicles, this one the local Brockton Bay channel, and was now involved in a vociferous argument with the driver of the truck in question.
The cameraman from the Boston channel turned his camera to point in that direction, looking amused, while the blonde reporter shook her head. One of the PRT guys started going over to sort things out, an annoyed expression on his face.
Aisha looked around and smirked. Sometimes life just handed you what you wanted. Moments later the side door on the equipment trolley softly clicked back into place.
Missy brushed herself down, making sure her costume was immaculate, then leaned over and flicked a crumb of chocolate chip cookie off Dennis's costume. "You shouldn't be eating now," she told the boy with a look of exasperation. "You know there are cameras all over the place downstairs. We need to look good."
The red-head shrugged, reaching for another cookie. She slapped his hand. "Hey!"
"No. Wait until later."
"You're really strict," he complained, which made her grin.
"Someone has to be. Stop it." When he reached for the cookie again she exerted her power a little and made the box end up about forty feet away. He stared at it wistfully then sagged a little.
"Meanie."
"Idiot."
"Yeah, I love you too, Missy." He poked her on the forehead, making her giggle. But she still didn't let him have another cookie.
"We need to get down there, guys," Carlos announced, coming back from his quarters, still combing his hair, with his helmet under one arm. Putting the comb down he pulled the helmet on and adjusted it. Missy looked him up and down and gave him a thumb's up. Moments later Chris and Dean came in as well, both already fully costumed. Dean's power armor looked freshly polished, glinting a little under the light from the windows.
"Put your mask on, Dennis," Dean suggested. Dennis was still glancing at his cookies which Missy was keeping firmly out of reach, but sighed and nodded.
"Try not to embarrass us, OK?" Carlos requested. Dennis tilted his head in a quizzical manner, which didn't fool Missy or any of the rest of them.
"Don't screw this up for Dinah," she warned him, frowning. "I like her. We need more girls around here. And if you do something silly I will be very annoyed." She leaned forward as menacingly as someone about four and a half feet tall could manage. "You wouldn't like me when I'm very annoyed."
Dennis snickered, as did Chris. "Ooh, scary Vista," he replied, chuckling.
"Do you want me to draw some graffiti in your room, right over your bed?" she asked sweetly. He went very still. "I have some really neat new designs. Want to see?"
There was a distinctly uncomfortable pause. "I'll be good," the boy finally replied in a small voice, after swallowing hard. She smiled, nodded, then turned and marched towards the door.
"Come on, then, we'll be late." The others trailed after her, all of them staring slightly. She could feel it and it felt nice.
She was definitely going to have to mention this to Saurial, who would probably find it really funny, she thought.
"Is it me or is she getting sort of... worrying?" She heard the quiet whisper from Dennis and suppressed a grin.
Lisa slowed her virtual bike, weaving in and out of traffic, which was pretty dense now both due to the proximity to the rush hour and to the main hub of the city. She was heading back from picking up a very good coffee and a sandwich, having gone about a mile away from the plaza which had the PRT building on one side and city hall on the other, along with a number of other admin-type facilities around it including the largest bank in the city. Approaching from a different direction than she'd left from put her on the opposite side, very close to the PRT building and coming from more or less the rear around the side to the front.
She could see a lot of people and vehicles milling around outside, Dinah's debut as Prospect attracting the usual media circus. The announcement of a new Ward was always a big deal and it hadn't happened around here for a while, which merely piqued interest. The much lower level of Parahuman activities recently had added to that and the result was the press came from as far away as Boston and New York, based on what she could see and what her power was telling her.
Her appointment with Armsmaster, Dragon, Director Piggot, and a number of technical people was scheduled for just after the event itself. She'd have expected them to want to wait a little but as far as she could work out they were so busy right now they were hard-pressed to find a slot. Yet at the same time, probably at the suggestion of the pair of Tinkers, they were very interested in acquiring some Family technology. Since she was interested in seeing the event herself, she'd decided to attend the public viewing area which was easily arranged using her Family backing. All she'd had to do was mention it to Armsmaster and he'd emailed her a pass moments later.
The press conference would only last about twenty to thirty minutes depending on how many questions the reporters had, or at least how many the Director had the patience to allow. Probably not that many, knowing the woman.
Pulling in behind one of the cars that had parked to disgorge some functionary or other, she deactivated the bike and dropped the control bar into an expanded pocket, looking amused when several people gaped. That never got old. Moving easily through the crowd of tourists and random passers-by who were watching the goings on and taking a lot of photos, she approached one of the PRT troopers who was standing around keeping order among the chaos.
"Lisa Wilbourn, from the DWU," she said politely as he looked at her when she stopped in front of him. "I've got a pass for the press event." Reaching into an inside pocket she pulled out the printed pass and showed it to the man. He took it and scanned the 2d barcode with his phone, glancing at the screen. After a moment he nodded.
"Thank you, Miss Wilbourn, you can go in. Take a left after you pass the reception desk."
"Where all the other people are going?" she asked with a grin, taking her paperwork back.
He chuckled slightly. "Exactly. You'd be surprised how many people can't work that out."
Snickering she moved past him and followed a team of techs from the same Boston TV studio who had made the very-soon-to-be-aired Family documentary, one of whom was pushing a cart full of recording equipment. Moving past him as he stopped to ask one of the other PRT people inside a question, she went a few steps further before her power poked her.
Mild steel cargo cart
Mass 41.8 pounds empty
Pneumatic tires at nominal 35 psi, rear right tire has faulty valve, losing air at 0.02 psi per hour
Contents: 3 off triple-sensor HD cameras, 5 off TV lenses, 400 feet of optical interlink cable, 200 feet of multiconductor data/power cable, 1 off Aisha Laborn, 2 off power units, 1 off signal distribution unit, 2 off disassembled tripods, 1 off toolkit, 8 off 9-terabyte solid state hard drives, 1 off mixing desk, 1 off master sync unit, 1 off short range high bandwidth wireless link transceiver, 3 off…
Lisa blinked as her power reeled off dozens of facts about the otherwise ordinary cart. These days it tended not to simply randomly spout facts unless she deliberately asked it to, unlike the tendencies it used to have of giving her information whether she wanted it to or not if she looked too hard at anything.
'Wait, what was that one?' she thought in a rather startled manner.
1 off toolkit
'No, not that one, you trolling pain in the ass.' She scowled internally. The damn thing had been hanging around Taylor and the Varga far too much, they were a worse influence on whatever it really was than she was and that was saying something. 'The other one.'
1 off Aisha Laborn
'There it is,' she sighed mentally. 'Oh, for fucks sake, you little nuisance. How the hell did you get in there?'
She got a sort of immaterial shrug back.
Random distraction on street due to minor traffic collision allowed for surreptitious entry to cart
Cart used as discreet entry vector to PRT building
Likely intent to attend press conference due to low boredom threshold and curiosity
Will be discovered when cart undergoes routine security scan at door to conference room
"Of course she'll get caught," Lisa grumbled under her breath, very quietly. "The PRT aren't idiots, and right now they have no sense of humor at all."
PRT unlikely to press charges due to current high workload and low priority of offense
"But it will embarrass Brian and possibly the DWU and the Family," she sighed. "Damn it."
She looked around, trying to work out the best method to extract her friend's little sister from the trouble she was about to find herself in, while moving a little closer to the knot of TV technicians, who were now discussing where to connect their equipment with their PRT counterpart. Glancing over at one of the elevators as the display over it showing what floor it was at changed and attracted her attention, she got a helpful hint.
Wards arriving in four seconds
'Aha. A distraction. Thank you,' she thought, quickly shuffling to the side to conceal herself behind a group of new arrivals that got between her and the nearest PRT staff member. She checked the position of the cameras, her power helpfully telling her all sorts of things about who the people monitoring them were likely to be concentrating on and when. It seemed oddly cheerful and if she'd been forced to explain it, would have said it was having fun.
As soon as the doors to the elevator slid silently open, Vista and the other Wards stepped out and looked around. She could practically feel Clockblocker thinking up something inappropriate to say, something Vista apparently also managed as she stepped heavily on his foot as soon as he began to speak.
Grinning a little, Lisa waited until everyone was looking over at the new arrivals, every camera in the hands of every press member in the lobby swinging that way. The blonde woman from the Boston TV station started heading over, waving her cameraman after her, which set off a rush to interview the wards before the conference. 'Wonderful,' she thought, following along in the mass of people going towards the conference room and the Wards, who were being ushered in by a somewhat harried looking PRT woman who was simultaneously attempting to fend off the reporters. There were now so many people in the lobby it was getting hard to move without bumping into them.
Arriving next to the cart, which the lead TV guy had resumed pushing, she quickly arranged to nudge someone else into its path. The poor man she'd picked on grunted in pain as it smacked into his knee, the guy pushing it stopping abruptly and apologizing as he got a filthy look and some quiet swearing. At the precise moment her power told her there was the maximum chance of no one seeing, Lisa reached down, flicked the door open with one hand and stuck the other one inside, grabbed the shoulder she found without trouble, and yanked.
Smoothly guiding the now-exposed Aisha, who was looking extremely startled, to her feet next to her she turned around and shut the door with her leg in the process of moving away. "Smile and keep quiet, Aisha," she hissed out of the corner of her mouth as she dragged the girl with her, getting as much distance from the cart and tech as she could before he investigated the sound of the door closing. A glance back showed he was peering down at it with a puzzled look but apparently decided someone must have accidentally kicked it on their way past. Shrugging, he went on his way, heading towards a door to the side of the main entrance to the conference room, the PRT tech leading and his colleagues bringing up the rear.
No one seemed to have noticed anything amiss.
'Still got it,' she thought with a hidden smirk. Amy's boosts had made that sort of thing a lot easier, she was far faster and stronger than before, not to mention with reflexes that would make an Olympic athlete cry and look for her mother. 'Hopefully that wasn't caught by the security cameras.'
View of cameras obscured by crowd for 1.45 seconds during extraction
Near-total confidence no usable recording produced
'You're pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?' she thought with amusement. There was a definite sensation of smugness that came and went from somewhere, increasing her amusement for a moment. Looking down at the shorter and younger girl who was staring at her, a fixed smile on her face and both shock and guilt in her eyes, she sighed audibly.
"What the hell are you doing here, Aisha?" she asked in a low voice, barely audible over all the people talking at once, and the intermittent PA announcements from speakers in the ceiling.
"How did you know I was in there?" the girl asked, not answering her question. "Let go, you're crushing my shoulder." She tugged futilely at the grasp Lisa had on her, which the blonde didn't relinquish for a moment.
"Nope. I'm not taking my eyes off you for a second," Lisa replied with equanimity. "You. Here. Why?"
"I wanted to see the new Ward," the girl said in a slightly sullen tone. "School was boring, I've been looking forward to this all day." She brightened up a little. "It was a good way to get inside, right?"
"Until they checked the cart, you idiot," Lisa grumbled. "Didn't you think about that? Their security is pretty damn good and at something like this you can guarantee that they'll scan everything that gets anywhere near the Wards. They'd have found you and god knows what would have happened but I doubt you'd enjoy it."
Aisha looked worried again, nibbling her bottom lip. Apparently that thought hadn't crossed her mind.
"Oops."
"Yeah. Oops." Lisa scowled at her. "Now what do I do with you?"
"Why are you here anyway? I haven't seen you for over a month." Aisha stared at her as they came to a halt near one wall of the lobby, out of the way of the people still entering the conference room. "Heyyyy…" The girl studied her with suspicion. "Are you at the DWU with Brian?" She snapped her fingers, looking enlightened. "You're in his gang, right? I bet you're staying there too."
Lisa put her hand over the girl's mouth and bent down. "Shh, we don't talk about things like that in public. Especially in the middle of the goddam PRT building lobby! Got it?"
She wasn't surprised that the girl had worked it out. No one had ever accused her of being stupid, only very easily bored and with the attention span of a gerbil on amphetamines. But here and now were hardly the right time and place to talk about such things, even if the PRT didn't care about the former Undersiders these days. She wasn't keen on her civilian ID being compromised after all.
Under her hand, Aisha nodded frantically. She carefully lifted her hand, ready to slap it back. "Sorry. I didn't think about it."
"Try to, please." She removed her hand entirely, then rubbed her forehead. "Damn it. OK, come on, better if I take you with me so I know where the hell you are. It's safer for everyone, probably."
Aisha looked pleased and just a little smug.
"And afterwards we're going to have a nice long talk about what I'll do if you try this again..."
The smug went away very quickly. Lisa grinned with a certain amount of malice, channeling Saurial as much as she could. Aisha paled a little, but fell into step beside her obediently as she began walking towards the conference room entrance.
"I've got doughnuts," the younger girl offered as they went inside, Lisa showing her pass to the guard at the door, who waved them both through after checking it. "Want one?"
It was meant as an apology, Lisa knew, and she nodded.
Missy slipped through the door at the side of the stage in the conference room, glancing around. It didn't look any different than when she'd been sitting where Dinah currently was, one of the PR people talking to her in a low voice while she nodded occasionally. Director Piggot was discussing something with Miss Militia and a man in a suit, another one of the PR department if she remembered correctly. They were referring to a stack of paperwork as they talked.
Dinah spotted her and smiled, lifting a hand. She went over and smiled back. "Hey, how's it going, Prospect?" she asked quietly. "I thought you might need a friendly face." Missy waved back in the direction she'd come from. "I remember what it was like, I was pretty nervous."
"I'm OK," Dinah said, sounding slightly apprehensive but covering it well. "Armsmaster made me these cool ear things to help stop people shouting stupid questions at me." She pointed at her left ear, tilting her head a little. Missy could just make out something deep in there, like a hearing aid, but it was only visible if you looked for it. "Is everyone out there?"
"The boys are in the front row," Missy confirmed. She grinned a little. "I told them to stay."
Dinah grinned back. "Neat. Dad would say you run a tight ship."
Buffing her fingernails on her costume, Missy looked modest. "I do my best."
They shared a giggle. "Are there a lot of people out there?" the brunette asked, her voice quavering a little.
"About a hundred or so, I think," Missy confirmed. "The room's full. It's been ages since the last Ward was introduced here, and I think all the fuss with the Family has made people really interested in Brockton Bay. Especially with everything that happened with the Merchants and that horrible smell on the weekend."
"That was nasty," Dinah grimaced. "I never want to smell anything like that again as long as I live."
"Me neither, I nearly puked," Missy muttered. The PR guy, who had moved a little further away to let them speak, nodded, his face showing he agreed entirely.
Both of them turned around as the Director approached, the others behind her. "Are you ready to meet the public, Prospect?" she asked brusquely, although it didn't seem personal. She just tended to be a bit abrupt. Missy didn't think she'd ever consider her a friend, the difference in age alone seeing to that, but she certainly respected her a lot. Director Piggot was pretty bad-ass if she wanted to be.
"Um… Yes?" Dinah replied in a slightly hesitant manner. Missy put her hand on the slightly younger girl's back in a show of support, making her look mildly grateful. "Yes," Dinah repeated more firmly. "I am."
"Good. All right, you know the plan. Wait for the signal, come out, wave to the hyena… I mean, the press, and then walk over to stand next to me. Mr Garson will make sure your earpieces get cut if any fool asks something they shouldn't, if that happens, just look like you think they're an idiot and wait. Normally they'll give up at that point. Be polite, but don't show fear, I think they can smell it." She actually smiled a little as Dinah laughed. Missy was amused, as the woman did seem to have become noticeably less tightly wound since the weekend. Harried, true, but in a sort of pleased manner.
She wondered why, but that was a question for later. Possibly it had something to do with the way Shadow Stalker wasn't around any more? That was enough to cheer her up considerably, even with the threat to that poor Hebert girl and her father.
"I can do that, Director," Dinah assured their superior.
"Excellent. Miss Militia, if you'll accompany her, please?" The heroine smiled under her scarf and nodded. "Vista, please return to your place. And see if you can keep Clockblocker quiet."
Missy saluted in as ironic a manner as she could, did her best to click her heels together, then spun around and marched off. She was almost certain she heard a faint chuckle from behind her.
"I wonder how Lisa's getting on with the sales pitch?" Taylor commented as Amy parked outside the BBFO office and switched the engine off.
"Considering her abilities, never mind her own intelligence, she could probably sell sand to people in a desert," Amy snickered as they got out. "I pity them in a way."
Taylor grinned. "It would be interesting to see who would come out on top between her, Roy, and Danny." Going to the door of the office, 'Saurial' unlocked it and went inside, Amy following. "If they were all working together on something the world would just give up on the spot."
"They are all working on something, really," Amy replied, closing and locking the door again, then heading for the coffee machine. "This whole city is finding that out, even if it doesn't really know the details."
"Good point," the blue-scaled lizard girl chuckled. The small dragon form of the Varga appeared draped across her shoulders and nodded wisely.
"We have a fearsomely effective team," he noted with satisfaction, relaxing as Taylor rubbed his head softly. "It pleases me."
"It pleases me too," Taylor told him. "OK. What should we do next?"
"Same thing we do every day after school, Brain," Amy remarked with a smirk as she unlocked her workroom and went inside. Taylor started laughing while the Varga nearly fell off her.
"Confuse the hell out of everyone?"
"That's it." Thirty seconds later a violet-blue and much larger lizard came out, grinning. "We have a gift for it, after all. Be a shame to not use it."
Both aspects of her friend nodded wisely. This was true.
"Let's go and see what the boys are up to later. Before that, though, I have an idea I want your input on," Amy continued. "Make one of those glass board things and some pens. I need to sketch some ideas out to see if they make any sense." Taylor did as requested, tossing the other girl a pack of markers. Amy uncapped one and approached the free-standing board. She began drawing as both Taylor and her demon watched with interest, and growing smiles.
"Very cool," the former said after a moment. "Very cool indeed."
"I thought so. Now, I was thinking about a power source, that was the big problem, but then I realized you'd solved it accidentally last night..."
"Ooh, yes, good point. Can we use that?"
"I've already cracked the direct consumption of electricity," Amy nodded. "True, this is a big jump in output, but we figured out how to do it overnight. I think."
"We?"
"Me and my power."
"Ah. Have you given it a name yet?"
"No. You weirdo."
"Why not?"
"I… no, we're not going there. Shut up and listen. What I need is like this..."
Taylor grinned at her demon, who was sitting on her shoulder and watching intently, then both of them began making suggestions and modifications, the trio soon thoroughly enjoying themselves while perverting the natural order of things.
As they did every day after school.