72 Cakewalk
I was overdue for a trip out into the city. Sure, I had left in my civilian identity over the weekend, but time had been moving differently within the Workshop. It wasn't just the acceleration provided by the computer core, though breaking past the limits of what the human brain could endure had taken something that was already disruptive to an entirely new level. Even setting aside the hundreds of hours of research, training, and instruction that had happened, there had been a series of major projects, projects that completely changed the way I functioned as a cape.
The work I had done had brought the Celestial Forge into existence. The impact of that act was still rippling through the outside world, but frankly I still hadn't really adjusted to what it meant. For me, Survey, Fleet, and the Matrix were still there, just like they'd been from the moment of their creation. Only this wasn't one of their incremental improvements, it was a fundamental change of the nature of their existence.
When you were caught up in major change you didn't really have a chance to appreciate its significance. The dynamics of my team, of my relationships with the people closest to me, had changed fundamentally. I needed to take some time away from that to let the impact really sink in.
There was a lot that needed to sink in. Sure, it was only a walk around the city, but it was the closest thing to some time to myself I had had in literal days and subjective months. Honestly, I was looking forward to it. Time to myself was something I always treasured when I was growing up. Sure, the conditions in the Workshop were in no way comparable to my home life, but it was still nice to get a bit of time with my own thoughts. To connect with the people that I knew outside of the workshop, and check on the state of the city.
I exited the entryway, stepping through the closet door and into my dingy apartment. The place was nearly empty, with almost everything of note having been moved to my workshop, then mostly replaced. It would probably be a good idea to fabricate enough replacements in the event someone else saw the place for whatever reason.
It was work I'd have to farm out to the Matrix, and that would come with caveats about the quality of what needed to be produced. I couldn't make anything with numerous enhancement powers triggering, and while the Matrix could perfectly assemble items on an atomic level, they still preferred a certain level of quality that would be distinctly out of place in my old apartment. I sent a message to my duplicates, asking them to work out the details before I closed the door and sealed off my Workshop.
Only not as sealed off as it used to be. The Extranet allowed the Workshop to remain online, meaning direct communication with the Workshop's systems and everyone who remained there was still possible. That was a relief. I'd become somewhat reliant on having access to those resources and cutting them off was a big part of the reason I'd kept the link in Garment's shop active for so long. Sure, I was accessing it through the internet, but it was still a means of live communication with the workshop and everyone in it.
For the first time in days, I stepped out of my apartment door. I didn't think my lack of activity would go remarked by anyone, particularly with everything else that had been happening in the city, but it was good to maintain a presence in line with my old routine. Really, the indifference held towards neighbors was one of the few perks of my apartment. Add in the fact that I accessed my apartment through a converted fire escape and it was fairly easy to pretend the rest of the tenants didn't exist, which was roughly the same level of regard that I seemed to get from them.
As I descended the steep metal stairs leading to the street I felt the forge connect to the Personal Reality constellation once again. This time it was a pair of small motes called Sky Simulator and Fly a Kite. Sky simulator did exactly what you would expect. It replaced the drab cement ceiling of my storage space with a completely realistic simulation of the sky. It was indistinguishable from the real thing, but the barrier was still in place. It was one of those soft limits, like what surrounded my volcano. Just a point that you couldn't move past, but one that didn't present any solid surface.
Since I now lacked a solid surface to attach things like lighting fixtures, the upgrade had also added street lamps to the floor of my storage area. It was one of those odd points of consideration that seemed to be built into the Personal Reality improvements. It wasn't like I couldn't have addressed that problem myself, but it was kind of nice to have it headed off.
The second ability, Fly a Kite, removed the soft barrier from the 'ceiling' of my storage room. The limit still existed, I couldn't build past it or store anything beyond the 100-meter point, but I could freely move up into the sky. Reports from my duplicates showed they were currently testing how high it was possible to ascend through the newly opened space, and so far the answer seemed to be 'yes'.
Or at least 'yes' as so far as it counted as being in the sky. If you go high enough that things would start to count as space rather than atmosphere you'd run into the same soft limit as surrounded my volcano. You could get past the Kármán line, but you weren't going to be simulating low Earth orbits within that space.
Considering the storage area's current appearance, the smattering of upgrades had left a decidedly odd arrangement. There was a square concrete pad, 800 meters on a side. Two opposite sides were open to a seashore and lakefront respectively, which extended out to another 800 meters of open water. The roof appeared to be completely open to the sky and could even be transferred, but the remaining two walls remained that dull, concrete material. It gave the appearance of an immense canyon and honestly came off as more unnatural than it had with just the boxed in waterfronts.
Though, given the frequency at which improvements arrived from that constellation, it would probably be a temporary thing. Something that affected the final walls, or another size increase would address the jarring elements of that arrangement.
And then, what? I'd have some kind of pocket environment inside my Workshop? I mean, I was halfway there with the volcano, but that had always seemed like something that was adapted after the fact, a non-standard use, rather than a primary function. My volcano had the appearance of open vistas surrounding it because that's what you would see from a volcano. It was different having a private portion of reality whose primary purpose was emulating the natural world.
In the grand scheme of things, it was a minor problem. Concerns over what I was going to do with an advancing ecology that was developing in unpredictable ways. Compared to the situation in the city, with the Undersiders, hell, with my own body, it was inconsequential. Still, I would have to deal with it at some point, even if that was just a decision over what I was going to do with it.
With those concerns partly addressed, or at least delayed, I set out into the city. It was lucky that none of the major damage had hit the area around my apartment or Garment's shop. At least, not directly. That was kind of the nature of the attacks. This wasn't some storm or natural disaster that caused an even spread of damage. It was a series of discrete incidents, each incredibly devastating, but largely contained.
Largely. Some spread beyond the confines of the individual strikes. The most notable would be the fire from last Tuesday night. Even after everything from 'The Ungodly Hour', that still stood out. In retrospect it was obvious how coordinated it had been. What seemed like any other flare up from Lung was actually a carefully timed sequence of encounters, each building on each other until Lung reached a point where every opposing force had to disengage.
Then the fires, normally just collateral damage from one of his rampages, started building on each other, combining and growing. It wasn't helped by the fire service being on skeleton crews after all the responders who were injured in Bakuda's first round of attacks. Once people realized how bad it was it was too late for them to do anything. Honestly, it had almost been too late for me to do anything.
If I hadn't been tied up with Dragon for half the night I would have been able to see what was happening, step in when things got out of control. Instead, with that fight down to the wire, I'd had to rush out at the last minute and try to fix things. Wide scale flame alchemy, something that was entirely experimental at the time, but stood as the only effect that could put out the inferno before it consumed half the city.
It would have consumed Merchant and Empire territory while having minimal impact on the ABB holdings, but it wouldn't have stopped there. Survey had detailed assessments of what we had been able to prevent that night. The significance of my intervention had been lost on the general public, helped along by the Protectorate and PRT not drawing attention to how bad things could have been.
The only real discussions were about the mechanics of how the fire had been suppressed. The theory that it was some new power developed by Dauntless fell flat following the Ungodly Hour, which just led to a great deal more speculation. It was only one of dozens of mysteries floating around, but Survey had documented the analysis, including second by second timelines of events and compilations of available footage. Nobody had traced it to me beyond wild speculation and a certain process of elimination, but they had plotted things out enough to map the borders of the transmutation circle and come up with some theories of the activation pattern.
With the debut of the rest of the Celestial Forge there was additional speculation, questions about whether the effect could be attributed to one of the other members. Really, I wasn't keen to come forward about any of the details of that event. I'm pretty sure my 'mercenary' image was hanging by a thread, being attributed as some quirk of mt tinker specialization rather than a serious vocation. Revealing my acts regarding the fire would be another blow against that, but really, I didn't want to confirm another ability for the legions of analysts that were obsessively picking over every point of data they could get. I doubt revealing the ability to transmute matter would seriously surprise anyone at this point, but I'd rather avoid adding any more fuel to the fire,
As I moved further away from my apartment more signs of damage became apparent. Most of the widespread destruction was fairly mild, the result of riots, looting, street violence, or just accidents resulting from over a week of panic worthy events. The services that would normally address superficial damage had been stretched thin, cut off, or needed in more critical areas. That car that had been totaled from crashing into a lamppost probably would have been removed if the city was in a better state and the roads were completely passable. Now, anyone who would have been able to deal with it had bigger problems calling for their attention.
Then, further out, you could catch sight of the real disaster areas. I already had a perfect mental map, so I knew what to look for. Otherwise, the signs probably would have gone unremarked. A flickering just visible at the end of a street signifying the sustained flames from one of Bakuda's more persistent bombs. Slight chemical smells in the air from a strike three blocks upwind that had been contained rather than cleaned. Even sporadic signs of the damage from my own dust trails. The removal of the active elements following the 48-hour restoration had done nothing to reverse the damage caused.
The city had a long way to go. Seeing it in person was vindicating. It helped reinforce my resolve and confirm I had made the right decision, taken the correct stance at the summit. It also reminded me of the importance of following through. If anyone thought to test the limits, see how far they could push things before the Celestial Forge would step in, well, I wasn't inclined to be charitable. That fact that I would most likely be coming down on drug dealers or Nazi drug dealers was just icing on the cake.
If they stepped out of line. So far the gangs had been quiet. Well, for a given value of quiet. The Merchants were still having their parties and the Empire was still holding rallies and meetings. Not overtly, but when you had an advanced A.I. monitoring every publicly available form of communication she could generally put together pretty good estimates of what was happening. No doubt they were trying to consolidate before any major action.
Huh. It might seem like they had been circling for ages, but not everyone in the city was experiencing things at a rate several hundred times faster than normal. For everyone else it had been less than a day, not several months. The fact that they had made as much progress towards mobilizing was a testament to how seriously they were taking things, not evidence that they were dragging their feet or being overly cautious.
I smiled to myself as I turned down the street towards my gym. That was the kind of observation that should have been blindingly obvious, but was easy to overlook when you were blitzing through training and construction projects at a massively accelerated rate. Yes, the gangs would be moving as quickly as they could, but even then, it would take days to get their forces ready, not to mention the need to secure intelligence and find their target, something the Teeth would be making as difficult as possible.
My power failed to connect to a large mote from the Magic constellation as I put those thoughts out of my head. I needed to check in at the gym, both as a metric of how the city was managing and as one of my few social contacts outside the Workshop. That was something I really needed to maintain to stay grounded, especially with everything that was happening.
The gym was less of the mad house it had been the last few times I had seen it, but that wasn't saying much considering. It still felt more like a cross between a community center and a distribution hub than the hardened sports facility I remembered. That said, it wasn't the 'all hands-on deck' situation that I'd stumbled across on Saturday. Probably because nobody had dropped another quarter ton of baking supplies on Mrs. Gartenberg.
I recognized plenty of familiar faces from my work on Saturday. Playing handyman while trying to nudge organizational systems into place had seen me interact with just about every part of the operation. Lots of people recognized me on sight, including a few calling me by name despite the fact that I definitely hadn't been introduced to them.
As I moved I kept a quiet awareness in the back of my mind, moderating every power that wanted to run free. The perfect stride of Efficiency was altered to approach something more human. Classy Contortionist's showmanship was muted, keeping the flare from breaking out. Trained motions of a half dozen innate martial arts were restrained, less someone notice a combat ready stance. With conscious effort, all the signs that marked me as Apeiron, even out of costume, were contained and suppressed.
As I worked my way into the gym I couldn't help but notice that those systems of organization and distribution were still in place. Literally couldn't help but notice. Divine blessings were like that. It shouldn't have been surprising that a system put in place with the Blessing of Administration hadn't fallen apart the second my back was turned, but I had figured you would need some kind of documentation or hierarchy holding things in place. All I had done was drop a few hints and shift things around to the extent that my limited access and authority as 'maintenance guy' allowed.
I guess I hand underestimated the people manning the operation. Really, they had no reason to go back to a methodology that was more frustrating and less efficient, even if there was no clear idea of how the new system fell into place. Actually, the fact that no singular person was championing it probably helped with its adoption. That saved it from ego clashes and personality conflicts. It was nobody's singular accomplishment, rather something that everyone could rally behind.
It was also a little unnerving. I had set a system of organization into place and seen it fully adopted with no conscious awareness from the people carrying it out. Okay, it wasn't a master power. I was only helping them manage an incredibly difficult situation, but the fact that this kind of thing could be abused was something I was firmly aware of. My work towards Mental Fortress helped deal with or reframe a lot of my issues, but concerns over master powers would always be a thing. Issues from a trigger like mine tended to stick with you.
It wasn't that I was concerned I had created some kind of memetic effect, it was the fact that I was pretty sure I could create some kind of memetic effect. I was capable of everything the PRT had initially been worried about, and right after the point when they had finally stopped pushing those concerns.
It wouldn't have been so bad if not for the words of my duplicates hanging in my head. Mantra. Mantra was power on a level unfathomable to most people, power that even I only had a handful of ways of achieving. And none of those methods were as 'easy' as Mantra. Aisha may have made an offhand joke, but cape cults were a thing. If I wanted, I knew I could start one with barely any effort, and the display before me, the way my light touch of organizational blessing had perpetuated without my guidance, it showed that I could actually manage a cult, and do so to a shocking level of effectiveness.
No matter what my duplicates said, I didn't want a cult. Setting aside the many, many concerns with emulating religious figures, accepting prayers created obligation. Sure, plenty of people would happily see it as a one-way street, an ego boost or free source of power, but that was overlooking the nature of Mantra, the reason why normal people could create divine energy.
Mantra wasn't about faith; it was about devotion. Ritual and time were enough for any creature with a soul to generate Mantra, because of the significance of the act. Of taking a portion of your life and devoting it to something else. That sacrifice of time, or potential, or something that you would never get back offered willingly with no return, that was divine. And it was something that anyone could do. And that was why I couldn't trivialize it.
The thing was, I didn't even need to be the focus of the prayers. They could be devoted to a group I represented or a category I filled. That was the reason why I was able to obtain Mantra from the rituals of the servo-skulls. I wasn't what they were specifically praying to, but I was connected enough to count. By carefully structuring the way the 'religion' was built I could fully insulate myself from direct accountability, but that wouldn't change the significance of what was being done. I would know, and that was enough.
Plan B, at least according to the duplicates, was to expand the principles of the skulls' religion to the wider planet. Technically, we were already qualified to act as fully ordained members of the faith, so it was entirely possible to preach the faith of the Omnissiah and reap benefits from that. Introducing a religion from another inverse was really only slightly better than starting my own cult, but unfortunately Plan C was a distant contender.
Prayer was capable of producing general Mantra, but it wasn't the only source, just the most reliable one. I had a Mantra affinity, which meant I had another option when it came to collecting Mantra.
Emotion.
Specifically, the emotion of pride. For me, pride greatly enhanced the power of Mantra, but it was also power in itself. A person feeling emotion corresponding to one of the Mantra types could provide power in the same way as someone engaged in prayer. The only problem came from the intensity and duration of the emotion.
Pride was a difficult emotion to manage, much less induce. I could feel flickers of it around me, points of energy that could provide power to my Mantra related abilities. Without support infrastructure I could only draw from a range of about a mile, and within that range only had the vaguest sense of where it was coming from. There was actually a decent amount from the gym. People proud of the work they were doing, or their accomplishments. Proud of the effort that was being put in, or the way they had made it through the darkest days of the city had seen in a generation.
But pride, particularly that type of pride, was a flickering, inconsistent thing. Stable mantra generation needed sustained emotion, and the bursts of genuine, sincere pride rarely lasted more than a few minutes. Major accomplishments could sustain things a bit further, but to truly take advantage of things you would need to fall back into manipulation.
Saying pride was difficult to manage was only half true. Pride that drew from genuine accomplishments, personal achievements, and significant victories was the purest and most intense, but it wasn't the only type that could be harvested. There was the other side to pride, that paper thin pride that sprang up as a defense against shame. Pride used to ward off reality, to avoid facing the unpleasant truths of a situation. The pride that had people clinging to it as a defense and rebuttal. A shell against the world, rather than a foundation on which to build your life.
That was the kind of pride that I could induce. That anyone could induce, easily. It only took some comforting lies and assurances and you would have people holding themselves up above circumstances, action, and accountability. The idea that I could probably draw significant power by walking through an E88 rally wasn't a pleasant one. Though, if I was being honest, the same emotions were probably at play with the Merchants. Really with any group that needed to create a false sense of bravado with their members.
Large scale harvesting of pride Mantra could close the gap, providing I could get enough infrastructure in place. It was an inconsistent thing, but spreading the net wide enough should be able to secure the million sources needed for level 5, at least for short bursts. It was an interesting question. What percentage of the planet feels a particular emotion at any particular time? I'm sure Survey would be quite happy to take on that question.
I was jolted out of my musings on weaponization of emotional energy on a planetary scale when I nearly ran into Jackson. I hadn't seen him since Garment's Debut event last Monday, a full week ago. The toll of the last seven days was visible on his face, but he seemed to be maintaining fairly high spirits.
"Joe!" He called, briefly clearing a path from the bustle of bodies around us with careful and controlled movements.
I remembered him mentioning working as a bouncer, and those skills were on clear display. Survey offered a full analysis of his employment history, which I declined. In response to an inquiry, she confirmed she had completed similar assessments for all members of the gym, as well as related individuals and support staff. Somehow, the universal nature of her intrusiveness made it less disturbing than if she was singling individuals out in some kind of profiling scheme.
"Hey Jackson. You look…" I paused to find the right words.
"Like shit." He said with a smile. "I know. Been practically living out of this place since Thursday." He looked at my expression. "Bomb hit my apartment building. Everyone's okay, thank God, but the place isn't livable. Haven't had anyone check it out officially, but you can tell it's unstable. I've been crashing here, and everyone else has been finding what they can."
"Sorry to hear that." I said, feeling a bit self-conscious of my own near-immaculate state.
He just shrugged. "Could have been plenty worse." He looked over at me. "Heard you're staying with someone?"
There was a suggestive edge to his question. "Oh, yeah. My place is okay, but I'm helping a friend who was hurt in the attacks." Technically true for Garment.
He glanced over me. "Seems to be agreeing with you." He commented with a grin.
I smiled and rubbed the back of my neck. Even under my concealed cybernetics and illusion effect, Aphrodite's blessing refused to be completely suppressed. "I guess. Things weren't as bad as they seemed, which was lucky, all things considered."
That seemed to sober him up. "Lot of that going around. You hear about Casey?" I nodded and he continued before I could reply. "His wife's convinced it's a miracle. Either she's right, or the doctors were way off the mark. Damn lucky either way. Course, she's been working non-stop since then." He said with a smile. "Like she's trying to make up for it."
"Really?" I asked.
"Really." His eyes traced through the crowd until he spotted someone. "Hey, Meg!" He called, and waved over an auburn-haired woman. She had a bright but tired face and clothes stained by a range of baking supplies and sweat. When she picked her way through the crowd Jackson gestured to me. "You had a chance to meet Joe yet?"
"Haven't had the pleasure." She said, taking my hand. I shook, grateful that the effect that concealed my cybernetics was more than just surface level. "Heard you made a big difference on Saturday."
"I just patched up what I could." I said quickly. "I know the rest of you have been doing the real heavy lifting."
She shrugged. "Well, it seems like it was a big help." She looked around. "Things have been going a lot smoother since then."
I shrugged. "I guess when you deal with the little problems things can kind of fall into place." They nodded at that, then something seemed to occur to Jackson.
"That reminds me. Doug wanted to talk to you about something." He said.
"What, more repairs?" I asked, "Or is something wrong with my earlier work?"
That almost seemed amusing to them. "No, some new project. I should get you to him. Meg, I'll check in with Casey when he gets back from that delivery."
"I'll send him your way. Joe, nice to meet you." She said sweetly, then turned to hurry back to her work.
"She seems nice." I said as we made our way through the bustling gym.
Jackson let out a snort. "Yeah, Casey's a lucky bastard and doesn't let anyone forget it."
I nodded along, then paused as I spotted a round faced boy struggling with stacks of boxes. "Hey, is that Theo?" I asked.
"The new kid?" Jackson asked. "Yeah, he's been putting in a lot of time here. Showed up early today and's been working like he's dealing with something heavy."
"Oh." I said, feeling my passenger's concern. Not a cape yet, but potentially one. And dealing with something bad. "Any idea what it is?"
Jackson shrugged. "Don't really ask. Not the first time someone shows up and intentionally burns themselves out. Only difference is he's hauling supplies rather than working the heavy bag. Best not to pry into that stuff."
I nodded. Despite my concerns on the matter, it was the exact sense of distance that I had found so appealing about this place. There was a sense of peace about it. Having a place where you didn't need to get into any personal stuff, just followed the rules and pushed through your workouts. If I could catch Theo later and give him a chance to talk that would be for the best, but I didn't think I would get anywhere by prying.
Of course, based on how my own circumstances had been circulated, they were clearly happy to share anything you volunteered. It was basically 'pick your level of privacy', covering everything from them barely knowing your name to having your entire history as common conversation.
"Hey, is Mr. Laborn still working from home?" I asked. Between Aisha and Survey, I knew that he was, but it was better to have an official source for that information.
Surprisingly, Jackson looked slightly uncomfortable with the question. "Oh, yeah. That."
"What?" I asked.
"Uh, nothing serious. Just family stuff." He said quickly.
"Family stuff? What, that thing about Aisha working for Garment?" I asked.
"No, not that… He trailed off and seemed to be considering how to phrase things. "Some stuff came out the other night. Nothing we need to get into, but it got back to him and he's working out how to bring it up." I gave him a confused look. "Don't worry about it. I mean, it's not like people didn't suspect… Anyway, he'll probably be tied up until he's cleared the air."
I nodded and fell silent. Aisha hadn't mentioned anything, but she'd barely been home since the ABB attack. I should probably ask her if there was anything going on with her brother that she needed to deal with.
Eventually we pushed into the back rooms and found Doug at his desk wrestling with a mountain of paperwork. I extended a greeting as Jackson slipped back into the gym proper
"Are you doing alright there?" I asked, peeking at him through a gap in the stacks of paper.
He just huffed. "I know how to run this place as a gym, not as the half dozen other things it's filling in as while the city pulls itself together." He sank back in his chair and looked up at me. "Good to see you again." He quirked an eyebrow. "You do something with your hair?"
Aphrodite strikes again. "Just trying something different." I said, deflecting as well as I could.
"Well, it works for you." A gleam entered his eyes. "That you're 'friend's' influence?"
"Sort of?" I said, trying to move the conversation along. Thankfully he got the hint and dropped the subject. "Jackson mentioned some new project?"
Doug let out a breath. "That makes it sound a lot more ambitious, but sure, let's call it a project." He took a breath and sat up in his chair. "Right, you know how old trucks can go into the blackout zone?" He asked. I nodded and he continued. "Crews have been going in, mostly to clear roads, but they've also been helping people recover stuff from their homes."
My stomach twisted. The area hit by the I-Field wasn't fully residential, but there were more than enough houses affected by it. I knew full well how damaging that could be.
"Was there a lot of damage?" I asked unnecessarily.
"Some places got damaged, but for the most part people just had to clear out when the field went up. The recovery's been focusing on personal effects and the like, but anything electronic is fried." He explained. "They've been clearing that stuff, appliances and electronics, along with the other debris. It was going to be headed to the landfill, but I talked with some of the crews and they've been dropping anything that's not complete scrap at the yard of that closed bakery."
"Wait, the place where I fixed the truck?" I asked.
Doug nodded. "Already has some tools there, so I figured, if anything could be salvaged…" He let out a breath. "Honestly, I'm not expecting miracles here, but everything they pull out of that place is written off anyway. You've got some real talent. I know it's not exactly your field, but times like this a working fridge could mean the world to a family. If you get a chance…"
"I'll look at it. See what I can do." I promised. It was a real chance to mitigate the impact, or at least a small part of the impact of what was unleashed on Thursday. Major appliances were not easily replaced, especially for people who lived in that section of the docks. Really, it wasn't so much a question of whether I could fix them, it was how much I could get away with.
Doug must have seen something on my face because he cleared his throat and leaned forward. "Look, I really appreciate that, and it'll make a big difference, but don't push yourself too hard. I don't want you pulling another all-nighter like you did with the truck."
"I didn't pull an all-nighter on that work." I protested. From Doug's face I could tell he clearly didn't believe me.
"Whatever you say, but as a heads up, Garment stopped by earlier." I raised an eyebrow and glanced towards the back. "Okay, her lawyer stopped by. I met with her out back after the initial chat. She didn't want to disrupt things, which after last time I do appreciate. Anyway, she's doing a fundraising thing down at the Regency Center this Wednesday. Was asking for volunteers to help with set-up and managing the event. They're looking to do some internet streaming thing, so I dropped your name." Doug handed me one of Survey's business cards.
"Thank you." I said, accepting the card.
"I know everyone's pressed, but this kind of thing, especially if you're doing technical stuff, it can open doors. You should consider it."
"I will. Definitely." I replied.
He smiled slightly. "Not that she's going to be short on volunteers." His eyes dropped to the paperwork before him. "And part of this mess is her fault." I raised an eyebrow. "They're trying to get the funds directly to shelters, kitchens, and groups working on the ground. So, if this works out we could have all the resources we need, providing I can get through this paperwork."
"It's going to make a difference?" I asked.
Doug nodded. "That lawyer lady, Mertens." He smiled slightly. "She knows her stuff. Talked me through how to set this up, and decent odds that Mrs. Gartenberg will have it triple checked by the end of the day, but yeah, it'll make a difference." He leveled his gaze at me. "Which is why I don't want you killing yourself on those repairs. If you can manage something, great, but save the miracles for Wednesday."
"Right. You can count on me." I said. That got a genuine smile out of him.
"Glad to be able to. Now…" He fished out a keyring with a few familiar padlock keys on it. "That place isn't exactly secured, but this will get you into the toolshed. Take a look. If there's anything you can get working let me know and we'll see about getting it where it can do some good."
I thanked him and accepted the keys. It was considerably easier to slip out of the gym than into it. I made my way over the familiar site where I repaired the truck and took stock of the damage wrought by an active I-Field.
Mostly, it was large appliances. Refrigerators, kitchen ranges, even the occasional washer or dryer. The edges of the yard had smaller devices, countertop kitchen appliances, TVs, and stereos. I could instantly assess the damage through my Analysis sensors. Anything with delicate electronics was fried. Anything that had been active at the time the field went up was lucky to have not caught fire.
I could fix anything, but this was a case where I very much needed to restrain myself. Plenty of the appliances had damage that would be impossible to repair without replacing major components. Some guy fixing a burnt-out circuit board with nothing but basic tools was going to set off alarms.
The restraining factors actually simplified things. Divide the work into what was technically possible for a skilled repair man. Then plot out a reasonable work schedule, based on estimated repair speeds from dedicated work. I could flag what could be reasonable and technically accomplished within a window of time, and make sure to have it done. Displaced civilians get a few appliances back and I dodge suspicion.
There was more that I could accomplish, even with the items that were beyond hope. I had enough scrapping and recovery powers to make the entire exercise trivial, but if I kept it at a minimum level I could just remove the failed parts and flag what was needed in terms of replacements. They would need new components, but a single circuit board was a lot cheaper than a new washing machine.
Projects for later. I could hand that off between Survey and the Matrix to plan out. For now, I had more important work to do. I felt the Knowledge constellation pass by and my power brush against an enormous mote, one of the rare powers that outweighed even the strongest ones I had obtained. As a consequence, the reach that had built to a peak level kept growing, advancing past what would be needed to secure any of the major powers.
I smiled at that. A new power was on its way. Barring a disruption, some interruption from a smaller mote, I would be able to secure another major ability. Another way to manage the tangled mess of powers and schemes that was playing out in this city.
I took a breath, confirming that I was unobserved through the Dragon Pulse and my advanced sensors. With a pulse of energy, I tapped into my subspace pocket and drew out my costume. The concealment effect of the elven cloak hid me from hostile eyes as the rest of the clothing and equipment settled around me, but this cloak had an additional feature.
The focus items built with the Arcane Craft could bind and manipulate any mysterious force. Forces that functioned along set rules and systems of operations were the easiest to manipulate, but it wasn't limited to magic, psionics, or biotic powers. Anything that counted as mysterious could be affected. And the power from my Dark Slayer style was very much a mysterious force.
The style functioned through the manipulation of demonic energy, controlled to an insanely preside degree in order to teleport and conjure weapons. One of the main challenges with the Arcane Craft was pairing items to appropriate applications. In this case, when it came to either vanishing or producing items seemingly from nowhere, you couldn't do much better than a cloak.
The cloak was a divinely enhanced arcane focus designed to empower my Dark Slayer power. A teleport that could normally only manage a few hundred feet at its absolute maximum was suddenly much less limited. Concealed by elven art and empowered with large scale teleportation I could jump blocks at a time. Just the kind of movement I needed to set access points for my Key Link.
I swirled the cloak around myself and, with a surge of demonic energy, vanished to my first target door. I smiled as I prepped the key. Beyond the scattering of doors used in aimless concealment, I was now ready to pepper the city with access points. The city, and as far as I could push this teleport. I had hours until my sister got off work and I could finally call her. With that coming up, I was damn well going to flex my enhanced powers and enjoy this trip as much as I could.
Jumpchain abilities this chapter:
Sky Simulator (Personal Reality) 100:
This replaces your boring drab ceiling with a completely realistic sky simulation… or a non-realistic sky simulation if you prefer the universe to look like something out a Bosch painting. Since this means you won't have a ceiling to attach anything to, all your lighting options now come with Street Lamps. Note that this does not add any height to your Personal Reality.
Fly a Kite (Personal Reality) 100:
While this doesn't add any usable height to your Personal Reality, it means that all the sky space is free for use for flying kites or hot air ballooning