Finding the Way
Part Twenty-Four: Urban Renewal
"I really think it could work." Danny waved his fork, heedless of the piece of steak impaled on the tines, as he spoke animatedly. "We just go in as Pathfinder and Compass Rose, and we move the ships to a place where they won't be in the way. Maybe an artificial breakwater, maybe further out to sea. All I'd need is for the Mayor to sign off on it."
"Now I'd pay money to see that," Aisha declared, somehow not letting the act of speaking interfere with her eating. "It'd be like the time you dropped that ship on Lung, and saved big bro." She grinned. "That woulda been so cool, the look on his face when he saw that fuckin' great ship just falling out of the sky on top of him. BAM!" She smacked her hand down on the table, making everyone jump.
Amy's glass toppled and began to fall, then disappeared in a puff of purple-brown smoke. At the same instant, it reappeared in Danny's hand. A moment later, it moved again, from Danny's hand back to Amy's place at the table. She looked startled; he grinned.
"Aisha, geez, seriously?" Brian shook his head, looking at his sister. "Can we get through just one meal without everything ending up on the floor?"
Aisha rolled her eyes. "Okay, geez, sorree." Then she met Danny's eyes, and a lot of the cockiness drained out of her. "Sorry, Mr Hebert," she mumbled. "Won't do it again."
Danny nodded to her. "That's all right," he replied evenly. "Just don't do it again, all right? And if you could mind the swearing, too, please?"
She nodded back. "Sure thing. But it'd be like that, right?"
"Yeah, it'd be like that," Taylor told her, with a grin at Brian. He returned it, but she was already looking at Danny. "One problem I see, though. Mayor Christner knows how much you want to get the northern docks up and running again, and Pathfinder asking to deal with the Boat Graveyard – or what's left of it, since Leviathan came calling – would raise flags all over the place. How do you do it without outing yourself?"
"She's got a point," Amy commented from the other end of the table. "Vicky and me, we can push for things in our civilian identities because we've been unmasked since day one. But I've seen first-hand how other capes have to keep their superhero and civilian identities separate; if someone really has it in for you, dropping a clue like this could open a whole can of worms."
"'S'right," Vicky mumbled around a mouthful of pasta. She swallowed, and continued. "Sorry. But yeah, Amy's got it right. I met Dean a few times when he was out in civilian identity – Mom being a big-name lawyer and all – and we had to be carefully polite, because everyone knew that Glory Girl was Gallant's girlfriend. So if we, you know, hugged or kissed in public, they'd be all over that."
Danny frowned. "You're right. Some of those guys would jump on that in a heartbeat." He looked at the faces around the table. "Okay. We're all superheroes here -"
" - not one yet," Aisha interjected cheekily.
" - or superheroes in training," Danny continued without missing a beat. "Taylor, you and I are in the Protectorate. Amy, Vicky, you've got experience in being independents. Brian, you've got a few years' experience as a villain. Aisha, you're just plain devious."
Aisha grinned at him. "Damn right."
Danny ignored the swearword. "So, between the six of us, if we can't figure out a way to sell this without outing me, I'd be extremely surprised. Suggestions?"
Silence fell, as five agile minds mulled the problem over.
Aisha shrugged. "Just do it. Anyone asks, you say you thought it was a good idea."
Brian shook his head. "Aisha … "
"No, it's a good start," Danny told him, then turned to Aisha. "But while I can see why you're suggesting it – it would definitely work as an excuse for you, after all – it really wouldn't fly for me."
"I could talk to Mom," Victoria proposed. "Assuming that our last argument didn't burn all our bridges, that is. Maybe she'd have some suggestions."
"Actually, maybe we should just talk to the Director," Taylor mused. "After Leviathan, I'm fairly sure she thinks we walk on water."
"Hm." Danny thought that over. "You know, maybe that's not a bad idea."
"Yeah," Aisha put in. "If Miss Piggy suggests it -" She broke off as Danny glanced sharply at her. "What?"
"Please don't use that nickname for Director Piggot again," he requested. "It's rude and unpleasant."
She squirmed in her seat, not enjoying the admonishment. "I didn't make it up," she mumbled. "Heard a couple of Wards."
"Hmm." Danny rubbed his chin. "It's still not a nice thing to say about her. After all, she could have said no when I offered you and Brian a place to live."
She blinked. "Shit. She could too. Uh, sorry."
He nodded, accepting the apology. "But you're right. If Director Piggot made the suggestion, phrasing it to 'get rid of that eyesore', then Christner wouldn't have much choice but to let it happen."
Taylor frowned. "What? Why would he even oppose it?"
"It's not so much the Boat Graveyard, as reopening the ferry," he explained. "The administration shut it down years ago, when the gangs were really starting to expand into Brockton Bay. They used the excuse that the ferry made it too easy for criminal types, such as drug dealers, to move from one end of the city to the other. Now that situation's settled down, but the money that would be normally used for the ferry is now being used for the pet project of the moment."
"Wow," Brian commented. "And I thought being a villain was evil."
"I've occasionally wondered why capes don't actually run for office," Danny noted. "Especially Thinkers."
"It's the red tape," Vicky replied wisely. "They'd much rather a problem they can punch, or shoot with a big-ass raygun."
Amy giggled, Brian and Taylor chuckled, and Aisha laughed out loud. But Danny nodded. "I do believe that you may have the right of it there," he mused. "Cape powers are designed to solve problems fast. Tinkers build things in their workshops, by eye, that would take a team of engineers a decade to even come up with a preliminary design for. Thinkers routinely solve problems that would have a think-tank of normals scratching their heads. But run that into the stone wall that is bureaucracy …" He shook his head.
"So you'll talk to her about it?" asked Taylor.
Danny nodded. "Sure thing, kiddo. Tomorrow, I guess. If I approached her tonight, she might get a little annoyed, and it can wait a day."
"Good idea," Brian agreed. "Oh, and Aisha, just so you don't disappear at the end of the meal, it's our turn to do the dishes tonight."
Aisha wrinkled her nose at him. "You suck."
Taylor grinned and put an arm around her briefly, ignoring her squeak of surprise. "Cheer up. We got raspberry swirl for dessert."
Aisha's eyes opened wider. "Oh, uh, finished," she declared. "Can we have dessert now?"
"Not until you actually eat all the food you piled on your plate, earlier," Danny responded. He'd learned not to use phrases such as 'clear your plate' with her. It generally got cleared into whatever receptacle Aisha felt was most convenient.
Aisha knew not to argue; she applied herself to eating once more, and she didn't say another word until her plate was actually clear. Brian and Taylor shared a grin; it was perhaps fortunate that she didn't catch them at it.
The Next Day
"The Boat Graveyard."
"Yes, ma'am," Danny replied. He was in full Pathfinder costume, standing before Director Piggot's desk.
"You want to … clear it." The Director seemed to be having trouble with the concept.
"I believe I can, ma'am." He paused. "After all … Lung."
She fixed him with a firm gaze. "Believe me, I will never, ever forget what you did to Lung. I don't think anyone will."
"Yeah, well," Danny agreed. "But I'm not doing it to show off. I want to do it to clean up that area. Show that it can be fixed up, that Lord's Port can be brought back into operation. Reopen the ferry. Bring jobs back into that part of the city. I'm chairman of the Dock Worker's Association, but some days it feels like it's in name only." He paused, taking a deep breath, trying to let the frustration bleed off. It wasn't the Director's fault, after all.
"I do hear what you're saying, Pathfinder," the Director noted. "It's a good idea. And the Graveyard is indeed an eyesore on the city." She tilted her head. "But why do you need me to speak for you in this matter?"
"Because I've been pushing for improvement in that area for years," Danny told her. "Mainly, getting the ferry back into operation, but as Chairman, to get more work for the Dock Workers. If Lord's Port can be reopened, that will be a step forward. The Docks gets more money coming into it, people move back in, police start actually patrolling, crime rate drops … "
" … and the PRT's job gets easier, yes, I get it," the Director noted. "But you don't want to be seen to be suggesting it as Pathfinder, because too many people would connect you to your civilian identity."
He nodded. "Fortunately, someone's already suggested it on the PHO forums, so you could easily mention it to the Mayor, and put it out there that you're willing to let me give it a try. After all, the whole concept of keeping our joined power level under wraps is blown since Leviathan."
"That could work," she decided. "I'll raise it this afternoon. I've got a meeting with Christner then."
He smiled. "Thank you, Director," he told her. "I really appreciate this."
"No, Pathfinder, thank you," she replied. "It's rare that I see a cape wanting to use his power to do something as mundane as urban renewal. Normally, it's destructive, rather than fixing something."
"You have a point," he admitted. "I guess it might be because I got my powers later than most; teenagers are dangerous enough without powers."
She rolled her eyes. "Oh, god," she muttered. "You have no idea."
He grinned. "Which is why I vastly prefer my job to yours. Even though all of my charges are well over drinking age, and indeed have the frequent habit of getting into bar fights."
Try as she might, Piggot could not stop a reluctant grin from crossing her face. "Oh, get out of here," she snorted.
A nod in her direction, and purple-brown smoke billowed up around him; when it dissipated, he was gone.
He's a good man, she mused, even if he is a cape. He's definitely dedicated to the job, and to Compass Rose. This is the least I can do for him.
Her computer pinged as a message dropped into her inbox. With a suppressed sigh, she turned back to the ever-renewing stack of paperwork, both hardcopy and electronic.
Well, when I accepted this job, I knew it wouldn't be for the entertainment value.
"Hey, Taylor, wait up!"
She stopped and turned at Dean's shout. Other heads had turned as his voice echoed up and down the school corridor, but they quickly lost interest.
"What's up?" she asked, as he jogged up to her.
"Can I talk to you for a minute?" he panted.
"Just one minute," she told him. "I've got class to get to."
"Me too," he agreed. "It's about Vicky."
"Oh god," she realised. "She only just recently broke up with you, didn't she?"
He nodded. "Yeah. Look, I just need to know. It was for Amy, wasn't it? Not someone else?"
She paused, frowning. "Do you … want … it to be Amy?"
"Look, I don't want it to be anyone," he told her, throwing up his arms. "I want us to still be together. But if it is going to be someone else, I want it to be someone like Amy, who's known Vicky like forever, and who I know loves her, and who Vicky loves back. Not someone who came along five minutes ago."
Taylor nodded. "I get your reasoning. And yes, it's Amy. She and Vicky … they're pretty happy."
"Oh." His gaze dropped. "Good. I mean, not great. But … good. I guess."
Taylor put her hand on his arm. "Look," she told him softly. "You don't have to push yourself to be happy for them."
He blinked. "What? But -"
"Expecting you to be happy about this sort of thing is silly," she pointed out. "It's a big wrench for you. So feel free to be unhappy, disappointed, all that. But they didn't mean to hurt you, so don't go taking it out on them, okay?"
He nodded. "Yeah. I get it. And thanks."
She smiled. "You're welcome. I know what it's like to lose a friendship."
"I guess you do." He paused. "Hey, how would you like to come out for pizza or something, sometime?"
"I … what?" She blinked, startled. "Like … a date?"
"Heh, no. I know you're spoken for." He smiled. "Bring someone. I will, too. We can just hang, and eat pizza. Be friends."
Slowly, she nodded. "I think … I'd like that." Her smile answered his. "Okay, we'll do it. But right now, I gotta get to class."
She hurried off; he watched her go. Thanks, Taylor, for reminding me that I still have friends.
"When's he getting here?" asked Mayor Christner. He adjusted the hard-hat that he wore; Paul Renick understood that the hat had never seen an actual day of use, but that the Mayor kept it in the back of his closet to wear on occasions such as this. Renick suspected that he actually polished it.
"I agreed to let this go ahead, and we're all here," continued Christner. "So where's Pathfinder?" He turned to Renick. "Deputy Director, can't you do something? And why couldn't the Director attend, anyway? She's the one who pushed for this."
"Director Piggot had other matters that she had to attend to," Renick replied. And she's got better things to do than to stand around in the sun with a bunch of politicians, he carefully did not add.Apparently that's my job. "And as for Pathfinder ..."
Purple-brown smoke billowed next to them; when it dissipated, the imposing figure of Pathfinder was standing there, hand in hand with Compass Rose. Renick silently blessed every deity he could think of; that appearance had been perfectly timed with his words.
"Mayor Christner," Pathfinder noted with a nod. "Deputy Director Renick." He let go Compass Rose's hand, and shook their hands. "Sorry about the delay; there was a house fire." He did not elaborate, but Renick was sure he'd see it on the news later. Renick noted that he had the chin-piece of his helmet attached; this gave his voice a slightly hollow sound.
Now that the guest of honour had arrived, Christner was all smiles. "Well, it's good to see you, sir." He turned toward the news crews, who had perked up considerably upon the arrival of actual superheroes at the scene of a proposed superhero event. Christner shook Pathfinder's hand again for the cameras, and then shook Compass Rose's as well. He launched into a speech, which Renick tuned out, while managing to look interested for anyone who was actually watching him; it was a talent of his.
While Christner droned on, Renick glanced around surreptitiously. Perhaps fifty or sixty people had turned up to rubberneck; he didn't know how word had gotten around so fast, save by Christner's media corps. There were a few people from the Mayor's office, including the guy in charge of public works; Renick didn't know his name and hadn't been introduced to him. Pathfinder and Compass Rose merely stood there, facing the cameras, once more holding hands.
Renick didn't quite know why they did that all the time; he had an idea that it had to do with the way their powers worked. Or maybe that they really didn't like being out of contact with each other. In any case, it wasn't a problem. And even if it was a problem, it wasn't his problem; Emily had made it quite clear that Compass Rose and Pathfinder were a team. If Pathfinder went with the Protectorate, Compass Rose came along. If Compass Rose went with the Wards, Pathfinder came along. End of story.
Not that he had an issue with that; he knew some of the things that the duo had gotten up to, and was not going to argue with how they got things done. Not in the slightest.
Christner eventually ran out of things to say, and turned to the pair of capes. "Well, then," he declared. "You know where the wrecks are to go?"
Pathfinder nodded. "We've seen the plans, yes." Compass Rose nodded in agreement.
The Mayor smiled broadly. "Well then, shall we get to it?"
Renick bridled slightly; Christner was trying to give the impression that he gave orders to the Protectorate. But then Pathfinder looked his way. "Deputy Director. Do I have your permission to proceed?"
Hiding a smile, Renick nodded. "Yes, you do. Proceed." And nicely done.
Purple-brown smoke billowed, and then they were gone. They reappeared on top of one of the ships. There was a pause, and then the entire ship was enveloped in the cloud of smoke. Out to sea, on the line of the proposed artificial reef, there was a tremendous splash.
And then another ship disappeared. And another.
As the first of the choppy waves began to break on shore, symptomatic of the tonnages of metal being dropped into the ocean, Deputy Director Paul Renick let himself smile for the cameras.
Oh, yeah. That's how we do it.
End of Part Twenty-Four
