Interlude-Blood and Chrome

I felt the electricity in my blood, the cold fire that I just used to try bringing back one of my subjects radiated outwards hitting me. I paid it no mind beyond the physical mix of pain and pleasure it momentarily caused. The spark of lightning was still contained in the ampoules and other protective equipment that I had in my lab, so there was no reason to worry.

My office was shut to intruders, not even Aisha was allowed to be here when I tinkered. Normally, the girl was just outside the door, just in case. But today she decided to spend some time with her brother. A wise decision. Positive for me as well, as it allowed me to do some of my riskier work without having her over my shoulder worrying herself needlessly.

I checked back on Subject Alpha-E1-009.

Huh, dead.

Ah, wait there was a twitch.

Huh, just a muscle spasm.

Damn. It's dead.

I got the electricity ray, which was on top of the reinforced glass tank, out of the way. I reached my hand in there and took careful possession of the rat corpse. I brought it to another table and started to dissect it. After, opening its chest cavity, I started narrating what I was seeing and doing. My voice, that was rebounding off the tiled walls of my lab was also being recorded through my new audio equipment. After eight other subjects dying, finding the cause of death was simple: tumours had grown in the rat's stomach. They pulsated still, despite the rat being dead, with an ominous green light.

After confirming the cause of death was the same as the other eight rats that took the E1 serum I threw the poor thing into the trash.

In the beginning of my experiments, Aisha and I had carefully disposed of the bodies of the 51 rats, 30 pigeons and three garden snakes that had valiantly sacrificed themselves so that the first Alpha serum could be successfully made. Nowadays, they ended up in the trash and cremated in some far-off abandoned warehouse. The number of animals dead due to my experiments had diminished a lot, thankfully, my hesitation and inexperience being slowly replaced with clinical knowledge and methodical precision. My raw materials were also better than before and so was my equipment. I was sure that with them I would build something grand, something actually good.

Despite all of that, the series Beta-A1 and Alpha-B3 were still one of the most memorable chem-tech successes of my career as a tinker.

Such a shame that serum Alpha-E was proving to be so difficult to make.

Tired of failure for the past three hours I decided to pause my work and went to check my computer for the info I asked Jack to gather. Human subjects were hard to come by. I know I am able to do body modifications and enhancements, my current body is irrefutable proof of that. Although, I still had to take the damn Beta-B2 serum every day. In the past, when I had to patch myself back, I didn't have the resources I have now, so my self-surgeries were all made with pancake mixers and kitchen knives. The continuing partaking of my own serum to make me physically strong and fast in order to fight didn't help in that situation. Until now, beyond certain weapons and pieces of armour I made when we hunted down the Merchants, my focus had been on advancing my chemical formulas.

Now, I am paying the price for all of that.

Eventually, when I succeed with Alpha-E, I will be able to return to top shape.

Until then I only need to find a buyer for my body-mods. I both want and need the practice before doing it on myself and… well… I needed to see if my theory worked.

Ok, think Taylor think… I said in the privacy of my own mind you already narrowed down all the options for other potential buyers. This is the only one left. Cranial doesn't need my mods and Glance is already a customer. That weird cult thing that Coil had information on might be interesting, but it seemed like I would fall in a rabbit hole if I contacted them, so they are out. There was that tinker in Indiana, but… I really didn't like his propensity for show boating. He is very likely to spill his guts if someone questioned him with a bit of force. I definitely won't sell to Bonesaw, that is just a quick way to die. Shame, both of our specialities would synergise quite well.

Whatever. I already narrowed down as much as possible. Damn, Mike really was right: it's hard to make a profit when I have morals. If I wanted, I could be building a damn weapon for the next Endbringer fight or at least some drug to help the injured. Instead, here I am bickering to myself about my lack of human subjects. Goddammit. Is it my power messing with me, or just the drugs? I tried not to sigh, I knew what I had to do, the only thing that I could do, was contact the buyer. For the fourth time this week I tried not to think how much of a blessing Coil's money turned out to be.

I took a deep breath, picked up my phone and dialled the number on the computer screen.

It was ringing.

"Da?" They picked up!

"Good…" I checked the time. "…evening. Is this Mr. Uri Gherlorot?"

"Yes, that is me." The Russian accent was practically movie worthy. "Who is speaking?"

"This is Duchess Sera, I believe you have heard of me? Through our mutual acquaintance?"

"The tinker?"

"Yes, I was told you were interested in my body modifications?"

"Da, they sounded like exactly what I was looking for."

"Good. I have read your resume, both the public one and the more… classified one. I believe you are exactly what I was looking for as well. Have you seen the schematics of the various mods that I have sent to Accord?"

"I have. I was told these tinker tech mods did not need maintenance from a tinker. Is that true?"

"Yes, the majority of my tech is fully reproducible by normal humans. If you find any professional mechanic, he'll be able to help you, if anything happens. Of course, the safest option is learning how to maintain its upkeep by yourself. It'll be no different than maintaining a gun or a car, depending on the complexity and size of the mod requested, of course."

"Good. Very good." There was the sound of a lighter being turned on and the intake of breath to light a cigar. "How much for an extensive modification?"

"How extensive?"

"My legs, you see? Since the war with those china capes it has not worked well. My entire lower body has gone to der'mo, yes? I want all of it gone and replaced."

"I beg your pardon? You wish to replace your entire lower body?"

"Yes. Is it not possible?"

"Yes, yes, it is possible. Difficult, but possible. Anything else?" I was sure if the man asked for some brain mods I should be able to entice Cranial for a joint project. Unfortunately, Cranial's tech was pure tinkertech, but we would make do.

"My right hand and lower arm. An explosion took them, you see?" An outtake of air. "Blasters are such a pain to deal with."

"Very well, Mr. Gherlorot. I believe we can come to an agreement. Are you still enjoying Accord's hospitality in Boston?"

"Da, Mr. Accord has been very good man to me."

"Alright, Mr. Gherlorot. Now, I feel I must inform you that this will most likely make you the equivalent of a parahuman, depending on the mods you wish for. According to the US-Canadian Parahuman Treaty, it is illegal for a person to be wearing, consuming, or otherwise utilizing any object or be, knowingly and voluntarily, under an effect, either created or granted by a parahuman power with the objective of giving/obtaining temporary or permanent effects similar or equal to parahuman powers on a non-parahuman person, without a certified license and special authorization by the proper authorities. With me giving you these permanent mods, if you get caught committing a crime, you will be judged as a powered human in the court of law. Is that all understood?"

Thank God, I was able to spit out the entire subsection of that law in one breath. I had to sit down and read the last few Law publications on the legality of my tinker work. Surprisingly, a lot of it was more inspired on Teacher and his thralls than actual tinkers producing and giving out their stuff to other people. Makes sense if you take in to account that tinkertech tends to break down or needs maintenance regularly.

It was also interesting to note that this law also applied to Othala, who could grant regeneration. The E88 sent Othala and Victor to Behemoth and Leviathan fights to help the wounded and because she needed to be certified as a healer to be there, she got said permission by the authorities. And while it meant that if she ever got caught and sent to jail, she wouldn't be accused of the crime that this section of the law stated, it also meant that whatever goons she ended up granting one of her "gifts" couldn't be prosecuted for it. Loopholes, am I right?

The PRT being what they are I am sure they will cover that legal caveat in the next… let's be generous and say: decade.

Also interestingly, the most recent laws coming out were more on bio-tinkers and/or wet-tinkers, that ended up messing about with unpowered people, like Bonesaw… or now like me, I guess.

"Da. And money is no problem, I'll pay what is needed." Came a very satisfied sound from the phone.

"Very well, then I advise you to acquire a cape name for yourself. In the meantime, I shall inform Accord of our agreement. He will most likely arrange for transport for you to my lab. When are you free? Such an extensive surgery will take time."

"I was dispensed from Mother Russia's army, Duchess, I have nothing else but time."

Yeah, I know. I read your resume. Sure, that's a bit sad, but now you are just wallowing. I wasn't going to touch that topic ever again, though, not even with a ten-foot pole.

"Very well as soon as we end the call send me all the information on the mods you want. And we shall meet in three days."

"Understood. Do svidaniya, Duchess."

"Goodbye to you as well, Mr. Gherlorot."

Click.

Thank God, that went extremely well, I thought to myself.

I put the phone on one of the cleaner tables, as I went to one of the corners of my lab. Finally. This way I would be able to repay my favour to Accord by giving him a new enforcer, gain some money and experiment with the rest of my speciality.

Three birds, one stone.

I took careful premeditated steps towards my cleanest table and picked up the metal bottle full of tea. Taking a gulp, the warm liquid heating my insides, I thought about what I was going to do for the next two and a half hours until dinner. Spitfire already threatened to ask Trainwreck to manhandle me out of the lab if I spent more than seven hours a day in it.

Putting the bottle back down, I decided on focusing on Project Viper. It would be a nice conversation to end the day. I could even do something at the same time while I am at it.

There was the sound of a deep beep coming from one of the corners. With a sort of unreal hurry that only panic can give you, I bounded to that corner.

After a bit of fiddling and hurried writing of passwords, I could finally see what was happening. The machine registered several off-key patterns while studying the project. Strange, but nothing serious. The patterns were marked by each expulsion of content of one of the protein tubes. I pulled the records to examine. Excess of protein? Excess of something that's for sure. Something that is going in with the protein.

After a few more seconds I found the problem.

The body was producing too much energy without actually wasting it.

Thank, God. It's nothing bad. I thought. Maybe I should get other types of beeps.

Actually… That is pretty good. It means that everything that needed healing already has been, so the body no longer needs to replenish itself.

The vat standing there in the corner, connected to the machines, was bigger than I was. I approached it carefully. Full of greenish liquid, it was a masterpiece of a joint project between myself and Glance. The silhouette of the thing inside barely visible with the number of tubes going into it.

"Don't worry." I said putting my left hand on the glass. It was cold. "Soon, we'll be together again."

I felt my left hand close into a fist.

"You will live again."