Glimmer 1.6

"Hello, this is the PRT information line; how may I help you?" It was rapidly becoming clear that the PRT put a lot into training its responders. Also, I was spending too much of my time talking to them.

"Hi," I said, drumming my fingers idly on the table as Dad watched me from across it. "I'm Annatar. I want to talk about joining the Wards."

"Oh!" the responder sounded excited, and I didn't blame her. I doubted calls like this came in often. "Well, I'll let Director Piggot know immediately. Procedure for a new parahuman joining the Wards is to have a minimum of one in-person interview here at PRT HQ. When can you have that meeting?"

"Today, if possible," I said. "Any time works."

"Are you not in school?"

"I took the day off for this," I said. "My dad gave permission."

"So, he knows about your identity?" the responder asked rhetorically. "That's good—we require parental permission to accept a parahuman into the Wards, in most cases."

"I figured," I told her. "Can the Director meet me today?"

"I've already sent her a message," the responder said. "If you'd like, I can call you back—oh, wait, I've got a response. Yes, she can meet you. How does 9 AM sound?"

An hour and a half from now. "That sounds fine," I said. "I'll be there. Should I bring my dad? And should I come in costume?"

"Ideally, you should bring your costume but enter HQ out of it," said the Responder promptly. "That way, no one can connect you to the guardian who's bringing you. You can change inside."

"I can't carry my armor around. It's too bulky. Will they be able to get it out of the car?"

"Oh, of course," the responder said quickly. "I'll have PRT officers waiting at… which ferry would you rather take?"

"The north ferry, if possible."

"I'll have a PRT squad prepared to covertly load your armor onto the ferry when you arrive, then," said the responder. "Would that work?"

"That should be fine," I said, smiling over at Dad. "I'll be at the station for the 8:40 ferry, then."

"Great!" the responder chirped. "I'll get things set up on our end. When you arrive at the ferry, tell the officer on duty that your ticket number is… 80-459. He'll help you load your equipment. Tell the guy at the front desk the same thing, okay? That's eighty, forty-five, nine."

"Eighty, forty-five, nine. Got it. Thanks."

"No problem!" she said happily. "Good luck on your admission to the Wards, Annatar! I'm Kylie, and I'm looking forward to working with you!"

"Yeah," I chuckled. "Looking forward to it."

-x-x-x-

Dad and I walked into the Protectorate HQ together. The Rig was a veritable fortress, on a level I'd only peripherally imagined. The force-field was just the start: tinkertech turrets, air superiority vehicles, and probably a whole lot more that I couldn't see.

Honestly, I was a little jealous. I wanted a big impenetrable fortress, too!

I chuckled to myself at the petulant thought as Dad and I approached the front desk. The guy behind it was talking to an armored PRT trooper, but he turned to us as we approached. "Hello," he said. "How can I help you?"

"Hi," I said. "My ticket number's 80-459. Can you help me?"

He nodded, his blank smile unchanging. "Right," he said. "I'll tell the director you've arrived. You should have someone here to escort you in just a couple of minutes."

"Thank you," I said politely. "We'll wait here."

I led dad to the chairs along the sides of the lobby and we sat. As we did, he put his arm around my shoulder. "You doing okay?" he asked softly.

I smiled up at him. "I'm fine, Dad," I said. "Don't worry. We've got this."

"Ticket 80-459?"

I looked up. Blinked a couple of times.

"Dauntless?" I asked, still blinking.

I thought the man smiled under his helmet. "That's me," he said. "Please follow me."

Dad and I stood up and followed the man out of the lobby down a side corridor. As soon as the automatic door slid shut behind us, he turned to me.

"Okay, Annatar," he said, "before we continue, I've got to tell you a couple things."

"All right," I said, slightly stiff.

He grinned under his helmet—I could tell because the fabric that covered his mouth shifted. "Nothing bad, don't worry," he said. "First, because you're a known master, the base was put into level 0 M/S—that's master/stranger, by the way—lockdown the moment we got confirmation you'd walked in. You understand?"

I nodded. Of course, I knew that I couldn't master anyone right now, without Vilya, but they didn't. Nor did they need to.

"Second," Dauntless continued, "Every single person who was made aware of the connection between 'ticket 80-459' and the cape Annatar has already signed an NDA. Unless the PRT or Protectorate has a leak, that information is not leaving this base unless you get a kill order on you at some point in the future. Which, seeing as you're a hero, is unlikely."

I nodded. "Thank you for telling me," I said. "I appreciate the measures you're taking to maintain our privacy."

He chuckled. "We've all been there," he said. "Two identities are hard to keep track of as it is—no need to make it harder on our Wards. The important thing is that those NDAs are not contingent on you joining the Wards. You're free to walk out at any time, and no one can reveal your identity legally. You understand?"

"I do."

"Great." He clapped his hands. "Now, do either of you have any questions?"

"I have one," Dad said. "No one's asked our names, I notice. Is that another privacy thing?"

Dauntless nodded. "A name's probably a better way of finding someone than just a facial profile," he said. "The less we know, the better, until such time as your… daughter?—no, don't tell me—decides to unmask to us, if she does. So, no, I'm not going to ask your name, or hers. From my perspective, she's Annatar, and you're Annatar's guardian, and that's it."

"Okay," Dad said. "That makes sense. It must get hectic, sometimes."

"It's been worse before," Dauntless confided. "Sometimes when a new Tinker is recruited, we need to close a whole road to get their stuff moved in. Annatar seems to be traveling light, for which we're grateful."

I chuckled. "Okay, I have one now," I said. "Why did I need to bring my costume at all? If I'm already mostly unmasked to a couple of you, why not the Director and Armsmaster?"

"I mean, because why should you?" Dauntless shrugged. "I think it's mostly a legal thing. The PRT directors have to report everything back to the chief director's office in DC, so Piggot doesn't want to know about your identity unless you decide to join up. This means that she doesn't have to have an extra clause in her contract, basically. Besides," he added conspiratorially, "I think it's part of the recruitment pitch. They let you meet with them in costume so you're comfortable when they make the offer."

That latter sounded like a much more likely explanation to me. "Surely that's a bit dangerous, though?" I asked. "What if a cape used the admissions procedure to get a shot at the Director, or Armsmaster?"

Dauntless raised an eyebrow at me. "Careful asking questions like that, Annatar," he said lightly. "Wouldn't want us getting suspicious. To answer your question, though, the office you'll be meeting them in is on a hair-trigger to flood with containment foam if you make a threatening move. Obviously it's not safe, because this is capes we're talking about, but it's not exactly a prime shot at the Director either."

"Fair enough," I said. "Oh, uh, I'm not planning to assassinate the Director. Just in case you were wondering."

He laughed. "I wasn't," he said, "but thanks for letting me know. Come on, your costume's this way."

He led us down the corridor and into a small room. On a counter against one wall, my armor was laid out.

"Do you need us to step out?" Dauntless asked politely.

"Nah," I said. "I'll put it on over my clothes. Just give me a moment."

Piece by piece the bright mithril armor covered my scrawny frame. Piece by piece, Taylor dropped away, and Annatar came to the fore. First the boots, then the thighs, then the tassets and plateskirt, then the chestplate and backplate. Then I slipped my arms into the upper armguards, and then the lower armguards.

I still didn't have my gauntlets. Fuck.

I gathered up my hair deftly and slipped it through the hole in the back of my helmet, then took up Aeglos in my right hand.

I turned back to Dauntless and Dad. "There," I said. Do I look like a cape now?"

Dauntless snorted. "Well, I'm jealous," he said. "think you could make me some of that?"

I grinned. "Maybe," I said. "We'll talk about it once I'm a Ward. Now what?"

"Now," he said, "I take you to the Director's office. You're going to have to leave the spear outside, I'm sorry to say."

"I figured."

-x-x-x-

Director Piggot was a large woman. That was what struck me first. It wasn't that I was unaccustomed to seeing people who were overweight, or even that she was all that fat—I'd know plenty of much heavier people—it was that this was the woman in charge of the local branch of a sanctioned paramilitary outfit.

Her hair was bleached blonde, and her skin was an unhealthy pale. Then I met her eyes—as hard and grey as steel.

Suddenly, her position made a great deal more sense.

"Annatar," she said. Armsmaster gave me a nod from behind her. "Come in, sit down. Your guardian is outside?"

"He is."

"Good. I'm sure you understand—neither Armsmaster nor I want to so much as see him until we know whether or not you're interested in joining the Wards."

"I am," I told her firmly.

"Truth," Armsmaster confirmed. A lie-detector of some kind, I imagined—no wonder he'd detected my dodges two nights ago.

"Good," said Piggot, "but it's not that simple. Why do you want to join the Wards?"

I took a deep breath. "Short answer, I want to be a hero."

"Truth," Armsmaster said.

"And the long answer?"

"I need a team," I said simply. "I need a team of people who I can trust to have my back, because my powers are made for group work. I didn't want to be a villain, New Wave is a family team, and none of the other independent heroes in this city have enough members or real viability to give me what I need."

"All true."

"So we're your last resort?" Piggot's voice was a little hard now.

I snorted. "Technically you were my first resort, since I haven't approached anyone else yet," I said. "But if you're asking whether I buy into all your rose-tinted PR materials and advertisements, the answer is no."

"Truth."

"Care to explain why? What don't you like about us?"

I bit my lip. "I've had… bad experiences with adults who were supposed to be in charge of me," I said. "Organizations responsible for me. I don't trust them, as a rule."

"Truth," said Armsmaster.

"What kind of bad experiences?"

"My trigger event, for one."

A moment of silence.

"Truth," said Armsmaster flatly. "Could you please explain?"

I grimaced. "I'd rather do it after we decided whether I was joining up," I said. "It would… probably unmask me." The locker had been all over the news. It wouldn't take long for them to connect 'girl shoved in a locker and put into a psych ward for trauma' to 'Taylor Hebert.'

"Truth," Armsmaster said. "Director?"

Piggot nodded. "Now, you told Armsmaster you were a master on Sunday night. Can you explain you master powers?"

"The first thing you need to know about my powers," I said, "is that they're modular. I can't use more than one… set of powers at a time, and I can't switch in the field. Not without setting something up that I haven't done yet." A pouch to hold my Rings might have worked, but it might also have been an easy target, and the idea of Lung getting his hands on a Ring of Power because I'd been careless and it fell off my belt sent a chill down my spine. "I can, however, give my modules to my allies. Or I should be able to—I haven't tried yet. And I don't want to until I really trust someone—personally. They're not small powers." I cleared my throat awkwardly. "So, uh, if as part of my contract I'll be expected to hand those out to people whenever I'm ordered to, that's going to be a dealbreaker."

"All true," Armsmaster said.

"The contract is negotiable," Piggot said. "We'll get to that later. One of your… modules… contains the master power you used?"

I nodded. "By the way, did you recover the guy?"

"We did not, unfortunately," Piggot said shortly. "We believe the ABB retrieved him."

I grimaced. "Damn," I said. "I told him he'd be released if they got him, too, but I hope he doesn't get too badly hurt over this."

"Truth," said Armsmaster evenly.

"I figured," Piggot told him, and her voice was dry. "Can you give us any details about how your master ability works?"

I nodded. "I can… dominate weak wills," I said. "I basically put myself into a contest of wills with my target. I doubt I'd be able to master either of you, but an ABB gangbanger who's gotten used to just obeying Lung and never thinking for himself was easy pickings."

"Truth," Armsmaster confirmed.

"We'll decide on what rating to give that later," Piggot said. "is that all that module can do?"

"Not even close," I said through a huffed laugh. "Elemental control—pyrokinetics, aerokinetics, that kind of thing—minor precognition… probably a couple other things I haven't tested. The Ri—the modules' powers come to me when I need them, and I already kind of know how to use them."

"All true."

"Is that the module you're using now?"

"No," I said. "Right now I'm using one which gives me and my allies protection from master abilities and from despair, as well as enhancing my strength and giving me a sort of inverse-stranger power that demands respect."

"Truth."

Piggot exhaled a long breath. "Jesus," she muttered. "You realize you sound like Eidolon right now, don't you?"

I blinked. "What?" I asked blankly. Then I thought about it. "Oh, hell."

"How many of these modules do you have?"

"Three," I said. "But I can add more. I've got plans for twen-nineteen in my head. Sixteen more."

"Mostly true. Nineteen is a lie."

"Twenty, then." I grimced. "I don't like the last one."

"True."

"Plans?" Piggot asked sharply. "Are you a tinker, then?"

I nodded slowly. "Yeah. Like I said, I can theoretically give my modules out to other people. That's because they're made with my tinker ability."

"Tinker 8," said Armsmaster flatly. "At minimum. Also, true."

"High tinker, at the least," Piggot agreed. "Well. You certainly aren't a minor player, are you?"

"On my own?" I asked. "I'm just another fairly strong cape. With a team? I can be a massive boost. I want to use that to help the heroes."

"And that's good," Piggot said. "You'll have to run through intensive vetting, obviously, but that can be done after we sign you up as a trial Ward."

"Intensive vetting?" I asked.

"Master/stranger screening, non-disclosure agreements, and a more security-oriented interview with Armsmaster," Piggot explained. "But for now, if you're still willing, we'd be happy to accept you into the Wards program as a trial member."

"I am. Trial member?"

Piggot nodded. "You'll be allowed to be a member of the Wards for a trial period of one week, during which we'll allow you to take part in all Wards activities, before you actually have to sign the contract. We'll give you the contract immediately, so you can look it over in the meantime."

"I didn't know that trial period existed," I said, surprised. "Why isn't it more public?"

Piggot smiled wryly. "Several reasons, the most pressing of which is that it's recent. It was only put into place by Chief Director Costa-Brown a few weeks ago."

"Fair enough," I said. "Do I still have to unmask to you?"

Piggot nodded. "We can't get you in the system otherwise," she said. "You're willing?"

"Yes."

"Good. Armsmaster, please let her guardian in here."

Armsmaster nodded came around the desk, and opened the door behind me. I turned to watch as Dad came in.

He smiled at me, but he looked a little worried. "You okay, T—kiddo?"

"Fine," I said gently. "Don't worry about me. Nothing worse than I expected."

"Please sir, sit down," Piggot said.

Dad approached. Armsmaster shut the door behind him and came around to his old position behind the Director.

"Now, Annatar," Piggot said. "If you're ready?"

I nodded, brought both hands up to my temples, and pulled off the helmet. "Hi," I said, smiling slightly self-consciously. "I'm Taylor Hebert."

"Danny Hebert," my dad introduced.

Piggot nodded. "Director Emily Piggot, PRT ENE," she said formally. "Now… Taylor. You said something about your trigger event being caused by authority figures?"

I grimaced. "Not caused, exactly" I said. "They just let it happen and let the bitches responsible get off scot free."

Dad put his hand on mine. I took it in my fingers and squeezed.

"You don't mind if I tell you now?" I asked. "I'll be honest, I was hoping you could help me if I joined up."

Piggot shrugged. "I can't make any promises," she said. "But if you want to tell us, I'll be able to tell you what we can do."

"Right," I said, and took a deep breath. "Okay. I go to Winslow High, and I've been getting bullied there."

"Bullied," Dad said grimly, "really doesn't cover it."

"The locker incident," Armsmaster put in. "Yes? We had that flagged as a potential trigger event."

I nodded. "I was hoping you could transfer me to Arcadia," I confessed. "I heard the Wards mostly go there."

"That can probably be arranged," Piggot agreed.

I sighed. "Oh, thank God."

"Armsmaster," Piggot said, looking over at the hero. "This 'locker incident'—I admit I've forgotten the details."

"I'll brief you later," Armsmaster said evenly. "I'd rather not talk in depth about a probable Ward's trigger event while she's in the room."

"Do you think you could help us press charges?" Dad asked. "The school wouldn't even hear a word of punishing the people who did it—said it was Taylor's word against theirs, and no one came forward with witnesses."

"Unlikely," Piggot said. "We don't have any direct jurisdiction there, or over anyone who's not a parahuman."

"It's fine, Dad, honestly," I said. "I don't…. If I can just get away from Madison, Sophia, and Emma, I'll be fine."

"I know, kiddo," Dad said quietly, looking at me. "It's just… it really isn't fair."

I snorted. "Life isn't."

"No," Piggot said, and there was something dark in her voice. "No, it really isn't. Sophia, you said?"

I glanced at her. Her face, which had been fairly set throughout the whole conversation, had darkened into an ugly scowl.

"Yeah," I said. "Sophia Hess."

Armsmaster's voice was cold when he said, "Truth."