2.2
"How was it?" Taylor asked.
"The yesterday's fight or the talk with my parents?" I responded then continued before she could cut in. "Either way the answer's the same – painful."
It was Wednesday morning, three days after Lung had been captured and the day after the fight on the PHQ.
Winslow was still closed so Taylor and I had agreed to meet at the Daily Grind, a coffee shop near the main library. I made note that my friend preferred tea to coffee. I did too, at least in my original body. But this Justin liked his sweet coffee, so that was what I was drinking.
"I heard a little about your parents not being happy. They talked to my dad."
"Thus the all-hands meeting this evening." I sighed. "I have a feeling they're going to gang up to make a strong push for us to join the scouts." I made air quotes with my fingers for the last word.
"I still don't know if that's the right idea, at least not yet. And given that the scout house was attacked yesterday, I'm not sure they can make the argument that they're safer than the alternative." She blew on her tea then took a sip.
From Taylor's tone I guessed that Danny had been pushing her the same way my parents had been pushing me.
"Did you see what happened this morning?" she asked after a minute of silence.
"You mean the missile attack on Dragon?"
"Yeah," Taylor confirmed. "Can you believe Bakuda tried to shoot down Dragon. I mean if she had succeeded, she probably would have killed Lung and Oni Lee any way, not released them."
"Maybe she assumed Lung was tough enough to survive and Lee could have teleported away?" I suggested.
"Or maybe she likes being in charge of the ABB and wanted to make sure they were out of the way."
"That's a very cynical perspective," I argued. "Somehow, I'd hope that there's some level of honor even among murderous gangsters. You know … that sounded better in my head."
She snorted quietly then smiled.
"Still, I'm glad she missed …"
"Three times," Taylor gloated.
"Three times," I allowed. "Not for the sake of Lung and Lee, but just in case they could have survived the attacks. I'd rather not see them back in town."
"Yeah, the Birdcage is a much better place for them both," she replied. "And now, maybe things will quiet down a bit."
Unfortunately, that did not prove to be the case. Despite not being able to rescue Oni Lee or Lung before they were removed to the Birdcage by Dragon – a delicious bit of irony I thought – Bakuda and the ABB continued targeted attacks on the PRT and what turned out to be Empire Eighty-Eight targets. And both organizations returned fire, hitting known ABB assets.
The gang capes seemed to be staying out of it that day, leaving the probing attacks to the normal troops. That did not preclude civilian casualties, as innocents got caught in the crossfire. The Wards were sent to patrol various areas to try to spot attacks before they could begin, with the Protectorate heroes held as a response force, but the gangs avoided them.
Taylor and I were in the library following the events on the local net feeds. Seeing report after report of attacks throughout the Downtown and Docks neighborhoods and not being able to do anything about it was frustrating. We could hear staccato gunfire echoing in the distance.
"Can't we something?" I almost begged.
"Do what?" she replied in a whispered hiss, looking around to make sure no one was listening. "We can't attack anyone as we don't know where they are or are going to be. If we try to follow the gunfire they'll almost certainly be gone by the time we get there, unless you can teleport to the origin of a sound. We can't defend anything except the PRT HQ and they have that pretty well covered. And we promised our parents to wait to go out until after tonight's meeting, unless we were attacked ourselves."
"I know," I said with a sigh. "I just hate doing nothing when people are getting hurt."
"Me too," she agreed. "I'm going to head home. We're not getting anything done here and I have some things I can be working on."
"Let me go with you," I offered. "I'll head home from there."
"You don't need to. I'm sure I'll be alright."
"I know, but we might be able to talk with more privacy."
"Ok." She still sounded reluctant, but I thought it was because she did not want to be seen as needy or a bother.
Once we were out of the library we started walking. There were buses, or I could have apparated us, but Taylor wanted the exercise.
"We both need to be in better shape if we're going to be heroes," she said, then looked at me. I resisted the urge to flex. "At least I do, and the exercise won't hurt you, even if you don't need it."
"No. That's fine," I assured her. A few minutes later, as we turned onto an empty street I asked her, "So in your ideal world what would you do with your powers? Don't think about your father or me or anyone else. What would you want to do?"
"Like I said, I want to be a hero. I want to help people and fight the bad guys. I know it sounds simplistic, but at its foundation isn't that what a hero does?"
"Fair enough. But there are different ways to help people and fight crime." I replied.
"Not that many. If I'm a cape I can't just join the police or be a doctor or a social worker. Besides the fact that those take years of education and training, capes are more or less prohibited from working in those fields. No, the choices are to join the Wards, join another established team, start a team, or work as an independent."
"Alright. What are the advantages and disadvantages of each, in your opinion?"
"The Wards are the obvious choice, but they work under pretty strict government control. From what I've read on the net they are, for the most part, restricted to public relations patrols and events and are only allowed into combat in specially controlled circumstances."
"There were Wards involved in both the fight against Lung and defending the PHQ from the ABB. Those didn't look especially controlled to me."
"Yeah. I have read that the Brockton Bay Wards see a lot more combat than Wards in almost any other city. Maybe it's because things are so much worse here, or maybe Armsmaster has a different leadership mentality. I don't know. But, even with that, they still seem to spend most of their time patrolling the Boardwalk, Lord's Market, SoLo, and other high-profile, low-danger areas."
"What does that come out to in terms of pros vs. cons?"
"Pros – resources, training, connection to the Protectorate, a paycheck and scholarship, and backup in a fight. Cons – regulations, public relations, little or no autonomy, and teen drama."
"What was the second option you mentioned? Another established team? Given that your dad's not going to let you leave Brockton Bay, what options are included in that? New Wave or the Enforcers?"
"The Enforcers got rid of their last cape member at the end of last year. Now they're just mall cops with attitude. New Wave is the only established independent team in the area. There are a few others in New England, but the closest is still too far – Manchester or Worcester probably."
"What are the New Wave pros and cons then?
"Pros – good people, powerful but not a lot of overlap with my powers, good reputation. Cons – They require open identities. I don't think I could do that with Dad. Also, they're basically two related families. I don't know that they'd accept anyone not related. And while I think Shielder's cute and all, I'm not ready for a marriage of convenience, or whatever they're called. I don't really think they're an option."
"What about starting a new team? The PRT already think we've done that."
"Yeah, with Merit." Again, she gave an amused snort. "That's a possibility, but we'd need to find sponsorship to pay for a headquarters, supplies, communications, equipment, transportation, legal protection, insurance – both health and liability, and who knows what else. I know your family's rich, but that seems like a lot to ask."
"What if sponsorship wasn't an issue. What are the pros and cons?"
"Pros – independence, except from our parents and sponsors…" She paused, her brow furrowing. "I'm not really sure I can think of any others. We'd have no backup, few resources, and no experienced people to learn from. Also, unless we could recruit more capes, we'd just have the two of us and that's not enough to stand up to the E88 or any other big gang. I don't know enough about the Merchants, the Undersiders, or Coil – but I'm not sure we could take them either. I do think we'd own Uber and Leet."
"That's something at least," I said. The picture she painted was not a cheerful one.
"Don't get me wrong," Taylor continued. "You're stupid powerful and versatile. I can attack from the shadows and keep somewhat of a distance so I, or we, might be ok for a while. But ultimately, I, or we, would have to find or build a bigger team. There are just too many sharks out there for us to do much more than pick off the minnows with just the two of us."
"But you still want to spend some time picking off those minnows before joining the Wards."
"I just don't want to put myself into another situation where I'm going to automatically be the bottom of the ladder – socially or professionally." Her voice was tight with tension. "We're talking about a team that already has an Alexandria package, a flying tinker, an armored blaster, a girl that can walk through walls, and another that can warp space itself, as well as her partner that can stop time. All I've got are bug. That's not going to get me any respect unless I show people what that means. What I can do. That's why I want to work independently first. So I'm not swept into the garbage along with my bugs when I get there."
I thought about her arguments. This was not my world. If I put it into Wizarding World terms, would I want to join the aurors? Put up with the incometence and stupid laws of the Ministry?
No. But I did join the DA and I did fight in the Last Battle.
I was a Hufflepuff. Teamwork was our thing. But that didn't mean I needed to join the government team with all its politics and bureaucracy. If I did not have a family to worry about, revealing my identity and joining New Wave would not have been a bad choice. But I did, and I couldn't risk them like that.
The range of effects and capabilities my magic and new body offered me, along with my relative maturity and social confidence, meant I didn't share Taylor's worries about finding a place in the Wards. But I could not discount them for her. I don't think any of us had a good grasp in the true scope or utility of her abilities. But I knew that her mistreatment at Winslow had all but destroyed her self-confidence and her faith in others.
I wondered if her trust in me was somehow engendered by the same force or agent that had brought me to this world and given me powers the previous tenant of this body had not had. That was not a comfortable thought. I determined I would be worthy of her trust.
Which meant I needed to help her in her quest for validation.
"I think everything you said made sense," I started as we neared her neighborhood. "While I believe you understate, if not underestimate, the value of your power, I can agree that others may dismiss it without giving you the opportunity to prove its utility. On the other hand, Miss Militia and many of the Wards have already seen you in battle and in the cleanup and rescue efforts. Even the beach party showcased your value. I don't think anyone is seeing you or your bugs as garbage at this point."
She lowered her head and hid behind her hair.
"The question is – is that enough? If you think you, or we, will end up in the Wards, how much more do you have to prove before you'll be ready?"
I held up a hand to forestall her protests. "I'm not arguing that you should join now. I just want you to think about what your goal is. How much of a reputation or a record do you need to feel comfortable moving on? Once you know that, you can proceed towards your goal."
"Yeah. Ok. That makes sense. And I'm not sure how much is enough. I'll have to think about that. What about you? What do you want, in an ideal world?"
I want to go home!
The spontaneous mental cry and sharp pain in my heart that accompanied it surprised me. I thought I was resigned to my displacement, if not fully reconciled with it. As true as it might be, it was not an answer I could share with Taylor, or anyone in this world.
"I … I don't really know. I agree with your thoughts on the advantages and disadvantages of the various options. My experiences yesterday showed me that we're joining a very dangerous game. One I'm not prepared for in terms of combat training or knowing how to work with the existing players. I got shot at by the good guys because I didn't know how to approach them or communicate with them safely. Oni Lee wouldn't have been able to hurt me the way he did if I hadn't been foamed by Velocity first."
"Shit!' Taylor cursed.
I sighed.
"Whether it's as part of the Wards or some other team, I want more communication, planning, preparation, and training. And I want it for you too. I'd hate to see you get hurt like I was yesterday. I'm not saying you would, but we'd both be better off working with others. And like you said, unless we find enough sponsorship to build our own team then the Wards seem to be the best option."
"Is that what we tell the parents?" she asked.
"Probably. It's the truth and lets them know we're not just being impulsive or stubborn. We've thought this through. And we've come to an end goal they're likely to support. It's just getting from here to there that we may disagree on."
"Sounds like a plan."
A plan which, of course, did not survive contact with the … well I hesitate to say the enemy, but the parents.
When we arrived at Taylor's house. She invited me in. The almost ancient answering machine they still used had a light flashing, indicating a message. Taylor played it.
"Hey. It's Dad. I just got a call from the Finches. They both have to work late tonight so we've rescheduled the important talk until tomorrow evening. Winslow is supposed to be open tomorrow. Do what you need to get ready. I'm going to be late tonight as well. Don't wait dinner for me. See you when I get home."
"Ok," Taylor said.
Checking my phone, I found a text from my mother saying basically the same thing. I showed my friend. "Looks like we are on our own. You want to come to my place? I can fix us some dinner."
"No, that's ok. I've got food here and I want to work on my costume some more. Check over my homework. It's been so long I have no idea what's actually due."
"Alright then. I'll see you tomorrow. You want to meet before school? Chat a bit if anything interesting happens overnight? Say 7:30 by the drop off. Melissa will insist on taking me, I'm sure."
"Ok." She dropped her head, but I could see a light blush. "See you then."
Nodding, I disapparated back to my closet.
The parents had not returned home before I went to bed.
As happened almost every night, I found myself watching the now familiar superpowered space bats fighting each other, massive Godzilla-like monsters, and a glowing bat that seemed to sweep away cities with a wave of his golden wing.
On waking my mind tried to make sense of the recuring nightmare. It was growing more familiar, though I could not decide if that was simply because of the repetition or if there were connections to my current extraordinary situation. As the nightmare had started when I came to this world, I could not help but think they were related.
Later that morning – Thursday – I got out of the SUV with a wave to Melissa and looked around for Taylor. My power sense picked her up before I saw her. She was standing in the shadow of the entrance, half hidden from the crowd of students milling about the lawn and spilling into the student parking lot.
"Hey," I said, offering her a low wave so as not to draw too much attention.
She nodded and started towards me, carefully scanning the area for dangers. I realized, based on the history she had shared with my mother and me, that this school had proven much more dangerous to her than the mean streets of the city. Nothing there had sent her to the hospital for a week.
I strode to join her.
As we reached each other the squeal of car tires burning on asphalt sounded from the parking lot entrance. Both of us looked towards the sound.
An SUV with a red and green dragon painted on the hood and sides stopped and five young men and women stepped out. Two had long guns that looked military. The other three had shotguns, like what my British father used to hunt birds.
"Hey skinhead fuckers!" one boy shouted, drawing the attention of a group of E88 gang members.
As the nazies dived for cover the ABB members opened fire. The assault rifles were shooting quickly, but not machine gun quickly. Just as I had noticed when the ABB attacked the PRT HQ, where the shotguns fired, explosions equivalent to a blasting curse detonated. My father's guns did not do that. I suspected Bakuda had been distributing special shells.
"Get down!" Taylor yelled. I let her pull me to the ground, making sure I was covering her.
I raised my hand towards the firing gangsters, preparing to throw a shield between them and their target, when my companion jerked my arm down. "No," she hissed. "Your secret. You can't expose your family like that."
"But the people."
She looked at the dead and wounded on the pavement and obvious uncertainty swept over her.
That was when the Empire goons started returning fire with the guns they'd retrieved from their vehicles. The ABB thugs quickly retreated into the SUV, two taking wounds as they fled. Even before the doors were closed the vehicle had started accelerating out of the lot. Several bald gunmen ran after it sending a hail of lead down the street. Once the dragon decorated SUV turned the corner, the Empire members gave up and hurried back to their own cars to give chase.
Soon the parking lot was quiet except of the moans of the injured.
Taylor dragged me into a clump of bushes in the middle of which was a small space where, according to the scattered trash, smokers and other delinquents often hid from prying eyes. "Now change and go. No one can see in here."
"What about you?" I asked.
"I'll hide and scout the area." She pulled out the earpiece I had gotten for her when I gave her a phone as part of her costume. By itself it looked like anyone else's phone accessory. "I'll be on comms."
I nodded and quickly transfigured my clothes. A quick disapparition and I was running in from the opposite side of the parking lot. I spent the next several minutes trying to heal those that I could. For three of my fellow students, it was already too late.
Soon teachers and staff from the school were running around trying to do something.
"Stop!" I yelled. "This is a crime scene. Call the police and some ambulances, but keep everyone else away."
"Who are you?" asked Coach Gilbert, an older man in athletic wear.
"Manifold. I'm a hero."
"The fixer!" another teacher, one I did not know, yelled.
"Just keep everyone away. I'm trying to stabilize the injured," I said and turned back to my task. I did not have time for chit chat.
Needless to say, school was canceled for the day.
I took Taylor back to my house. If the gangs were doing drive-by's at a public school, then Taylor's house, which was in ABB territory, was too dangerous for her. She agreed, after we had picked up her completed costume.
Once we were at my house, we turned on the news and started checking the net. The Winslow shooting was getting a lot of coverage. It was unusual, even in gang-ridden Brockton Bay for schools to be the target of that level of violence. People were wondering if the hospitals or churches would be next.
On PHO, just after noon, rumors started coming in about an incident of some sort at the PRT Headquarters building. Some posters were calling it an explosion, others just a flash of light. Within the hour reports started coming out from people supposedly within the PRT claiming that there were injuries, possibly even fatalities inside the building. Some said that half of the Wards were killed. Other asserted that it was Protectorate heroes that had been injured.
"Should we go and offer help?" I asked. I hated doing nothing.
"Remember what happened when you went in unannounced at the PHQ. You could try to contact Miss Militia, but I'm not sure this is the time to be bothering her."
It was at 2:37pm when two videos appeared on PHO in the Brockton Bay board. We only got to see them because we were actively scanning the board for any new posts, Taylor on one computer, me on another right next to her. We had gotten down the process of her reading even numbered threads and I would read odd numbered ones.
That means that she saw the PRT video, and I saw the E88 one before they were pulled by the moderators. I almost wished we hadn't.
In the video I watched the Empire capes were gathered in a warehouse, along with thirty to fifty – it was hard to get an exact count – men in gang colors. It was all shown from the perspective of a single person. He, I assumed because the only women I saw in the room were capes, was moving through the crowd towards the platform where the parahumans were assembled.
"Jackson," Stormtiger snapped as the camera approached. "Where the fuck have you been. I've been trying to call you all night. You don't fucking ghost me. Not in the middle of a fucking war. Your old lady doesn't even answer her fucking phone. Were you on a date or something?"
The cameraman veered away from the topless cape towards Kaiser. But Stormtiger grabbed him and pulled him close. From the side of the screen, it was apparent this had caught the attention of some of the other capes. One of the twin giantesses stepped closer to the scuffle, putting her growing body between the camera and the Empire leader. Cricket also started moving towards the conflict.
"No! I've got to get to Kaiser!" the cameraman yelled. This caught everyone's attention.
"Bomb!" someone yelled. Stormtiger, the giantess, and Cricket all closed in almost simultaneously.
Then there was a flash and the image on the screen froze. Two seconds later it blacked, and the video restarted. Before it could play through a second time the post disappeared and was replaced by a message from Tin Mother explaining its removal for violating PHO's rules against posting criminal acts.
"Oh god!" Taylor gasped. I looked over and saw she was watching a similar video. On her screen it looked like electricity was arcing from the camera person's perspective. I saw Director Piggot, who I had seen on the news several times, along with Aegis, Vista, Shadow Stalker, and an unfamiliar man in a suit all being shocked by the same purple lightning that had downed Velocity.
Her video cut off and was replaced by the same message from Tin Mother.
Something was very wrong.