A/N: Chap 16 review responses are in my forums as normal. If you can find it over tthe continued comments from Chap 14. Also, though I absolutely hate doing it, I feel I have to do the following:
Trigger Warning: The following chapter has some content that might be difficult for sensitive readers. Assuming, of course, that I have any sensitive readers left. That said, the shoe people have been waiting to drop arrives in this chapter. Suffice it to say, do not expect rainbows and puppy dogs from anyone named Bastard Son.
Chapter Seventeen: Not This Crude Matter
Yuki and Taylor moved into the annex that Sunday. They stored the tent, the camping shower and toilet in the middle examination room, where they also put their camp kitchen, cooler, and food supplies.
The third examination room, closest to the church, they set up as a cramped bedroom. They put their cots together and then used old wooden planks and an air mattress to make something resembling a real bed. The only thing they couldn't easily store were Taylor's furnace and the materials to make a second, larger furnace when they had space. Those she kept in the hallway at the end of the clinic. She and Yuki rigged a simple curtain to keep their personal quarters out of sight of clients.
After talking to Jorge about some of her ideas and her need for materials, he tasked his eldest son to drive her to the city salvage yard.
Maria's oldest brother Raul was twenty—a younger version of his dad. He had a little bit of a belly, but he also had the short, stout build and callouses on his hands that spoke of strength and hard work. He didn't say anything as they drove in the old, beaten pick-up truck south and west of the Exclusion Zone.
Eventually they reached what looked like an old industrial complex of warehouses and a few cooling towers in the distance. The Duwamish river ran on the edge of the property in the distance. Raul stopped at a guard post set within a high chain-link fence.
The heavy-set, bored-looking guard in the post looked up from her book and glanced from Raul to Taylor, who's hair was bundled up in a baseball cap and whose eyes were hidden behind red shades.
"Lopez. Haven't seen you in a few weeks. Just the truck and trailer?"
"Hey, Myrtle. Yeah, just the truck and trailer today."
"Fifty."
Raul handed over the money and then drove toward one of the huge building that dominated the ugly gray patch of crumbling cement.
"Used to be a steel plant," he explained to Taylor. While he had an accent, his English sounded clear enough. "Now the city uses it for salvage. Twenty-five per truck, another for a trailer, fifty for a large truck, a hundred for a semi, and you take whatever you want. Best deal in the city."
Taylor felt her stomach twist. "And this has been here the whole time?"
Raul actually laughed. "Yeah. Since Leviathan."
"I could kiss you right now," Taylor muttered.
"Don't. Maria says your girlfriend is crazy."
It felt odd for someone to casually mention that she, Taylor Hebert, had a girlfriend. More importantly, she felt a strange little tingle of apprehension that she had a reputation even among her friends. "Little bit, yeah."
The salvage yard was an absolute tinker's dream. The row of old refrigerators and freezers along gave her the material she needed to make vaporators. She wouldn't normally have used copper tubing, but with a thin sheath of silicate coating it would work just fine for her purposes. The stacks of old microwaves recovered from the various exclusion zones almost made her mouth water.
Raul helped her move items, since she couldn't dare risk using her powers. After the third fridge, she made a show of helping him physically, while lightening the load with her power. He was still sweating by the time they got to the microwaves.
"So, did Jorge come here for supplies when he was building my clinic?"
"Yeah, we used a lot of recovered lumber. Salvaged most of the windows ourselves. The roof tiles were remnants we got from local contractors. He knows how to save money and do work fast."
The place had everything—literally everything that could be found in a home. Appliances, rugs, bedframes, bicycles. Enough cabinetry to stock a hundred kitchens. They even had a lot of abandoned or destroyed cars and motorcycles in a separate junk yard. Taylor viewed some of the tireless, casually tossed motorcycles, momentarily envisioning a swoop bike soaring through the city at hundreds of miles an hour, but dismissed it as impractical until she had more time, money, and resources.
"I'm definitely coming back," she told Raul breathlessly as they finished loading up both the truck and trailer with old refrigerators, microwaves and a roll of tin roofing material.
She climbed into the trailer with some of Raul's ties to secure it all when she sensed a parahuman walk up and call a greeting to Raul in Spanish.
Taylor squatted down below the side of the trailer, ostensibly to tie something, but mainly to peek through the old wooden railing of the trailer at the newcomer without being seen.
The cape appeared to be around Raul's age, but he was slightly lighter-skinned and much heavier. Rather than Raul's small beer belly, the new comer was simply fat, with corduroy pants that barely stayed up and an old black Metallica T-shirt. He'd pulled his long, greasy black hair into a ponytail and wore a pitiful excuse for a beard, but large chunks were barren where he just didn't have the whiskers to pull it off.
"Raul, good to see you, my friend. How are you? How's Maria?"
"Maria's doing great. And so is Clair, since we both know you were going to ask."
To Taylor's shock, the parahuman blushed. "Good. Glad she's doing okay. Tell her I said hello, okay?"
"Who, Maria or Claire? My friend, if you never call her, she's not ever gonna talk to you."
"Right. Yeah. So, what are you doing?"
"Helping a friend."
The cape looked over the trailer and bed of the truck. Taylor couldn't tell if he saw her or not, but she didn't feel any real threat from him in the Force.
"With what? Five old fridges and freezers, a pile of old microwaves? Metal? Dude, better be careful or Nuevo Familia might think your friend's a tinker or something."
Suddenly Taylor felt her stomach clench with a sudden surge of fear. Did Raul know who she was? Not her name, but the fact that Taylor Hebert was a wanted Birdcage escapee? If he said her name…
"Nah, it's for Quintessence. She healed my sister, so Papa and I are doing her a favor."
"Dude, I heard about that. Think she could help me lose weight?"
"Nah, you just need to cut back on the burritos and beer, man."
"Yeah, probably. Well, look. I didn't hear anything about Quintessence being a tinker, but they're a big deal. A healer and a tinker? Capes watch this place like a hawk, and when they see something like that, they assume it's a tinker and they fucking go after 'em. I mean, heard. Ever hear of Energon? With the Protectorate?"
"Yeah."
"When he was a kid, Nuevo Familia and Tekiya almost started a war trying to snag him. Tell this Quintessence to be careful. I know she has that clinic north of the line, but if people think she's a tinker too, they may not care."
"I don't think she's a tinker. She doesn't build crazy shit or anything. But I'll let her know."
"Cool. Maybe I'll call Claire."
"Worse that could happen is she tells you no, my friend."
"That'd be pretty bad. See you."
Taylor sensed him retreating, but didn't dare rise up to look. Raul drifted back to the trailer. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Prefer not to be seen by…certain people."
"You mean other capes?"
Taylor finally stood, staring at Raul's knowing smirk. "You know he's a cape?"
"That's Ricky Jablonsky. Everybody knows he's Energon. Reformed villain and all that. Figured you didn't want to any Protectorate around."
She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Thank you. And thank you for helping me today. I'm ready to go."
"You won't tell your girlfriend you kissed me, right?"
"Nope. She's a little crazy, you know."
Raul laughed as they climbed back into the truck and headed back to the church.
~~Quintessence~~
~~Quintessence~~
That night, while Yuki did the dishes after Taylor cooked their dinner, she sat in the hallway floor with a towel laid out in front of her. The towel was filled with hundreds of small intricate parts.
Closing her eyes, Taylor lifted a single hand, and before her the parts—all of them—floated gently into the air.
"The crystal is the heart of the blade."
While the crystal might have been the heart of the blade, the diatium cell and the insulation were the guts. She didn't know where the memories that drove her were coming from; she didn't understand how she knew what she did, other than the dreams that drove her at night. The words came without memory, while the parts came together as if by magic rather than the Force.
"The heart is the crystal of the Bendu."
Bendu. She almost stumbled in her task. Something about the word reverberated through her mind and soul. It felt right and proper. She did not know what a Bendu was, but she somehow knew that it was what she was becoming.
The two synthetic adagan crystals took on a light glow under her power, reflecting herself in the Force. She set them in a duel mount next to the synthetic diamonds of the same exact size.
Under the guidance of the Force, the power vortex rings wrapped themselves around the diatium power cells above the gyroscopic balance; the inert insulation wrapped itself around the vortex. The casing of the handle bent itself perfectly around the insulation at the urging of her power.
"The Bendu is the crystal of the Force."
The energy gates mounted themselves to the emitters of the power cells; the primary crystals mounted itself to the energy gates within the crystal chambers. Above it, held by the magnetic charge and the focusing activators, Taylor mounted the green focusing crystals.
She was conscious of Yuki drifting out of their room, enraptured by what she must have felt through the link the two had formed as her training advanced. Rather than interrupt, she sank to the floor and stared with an enraptured expression.
The two coils that made up the cycling field energizers of each saber framed the energy channel into the magnetic stabilizing ring which formed the fields which would contain the blade—all the difference between an overpowered one-shot laser gun and a recycling, constant blade. The micro-welder reached into the two assemblages, securing and fastening. The center and final casings wrapped themselves around the crystal energy chamber and the cycling field energizer coils. The magnetic ring screwed into place with the flange out to one side and the emitter shrouds perfectly positioned.
"The Force is the blade of the heart."
Two lightsaber handles floated in front of her, complete but raw in appearance. The welds looked crude and dirty. There was no material for a hand grip. But the blades themselves, she felt, were finished. The last act was securing the grip, a polyurethane material she found at the home improvement store.
She took each blade in hand and took a deep breath. Only then did she glance at Yuki. The other girl sat with her lips parted into a silent "Oh". A tear ran down her cheeks.
"What was that?" Yuki whispered.
"Memories, I think," Taylor said. She spoke softly herself, feeling somehow fulfilled and empty at the same time. "My power came with memories. I don't understand it all. I don't know what they mean. But the furnace I built? These? They're not tinker tech, not really. I think they're just advanced technology. And when you're ready, you'll build one of these two. I've already set the furnace to making the parts for you."
"Because my power is like yours?"
"Yes. I'm…I'm not sure what a Bendu is, but I think it's the name for those with powers like ours. And you are going to be Bendu, just as I am. I know it. And as soon as I have a lab and space to work, I'll build a larger, more efficient furnace, and they'll be no limit to what we can do."
Before either could say anything else, Taylor's phone dinged to let her know she'd received a text. She summoned it to her hand without a thought, entered her password, and stared at the message from Entourage in confusion for a moment.
Then worry.
"What is it?" Yuki asked.
"We need to get in costume," Taylor said. "Our heavy, darker costumes."
"But…why?"
Taylor forced herself to take a calming breath. "Bastard Son is on his way over."
"Who…wait, the Bastard Son? The guy who leads the most violent cell of the Elite?"
"Yeah."
"But…why?"
"We're going to a meeting. Let's get ready, he could be here any minute."
"At least you have your lightsabers," Yuki noted.
"Yeah. Come on."
~~Quintessence~~
~~Quintessence~~
Taylor and Yuki stood side-by-side in front of the clinic. Taylor had on a new costume she'd ordered from Masquerade just for the possibility of something like this happening. Rather than bright, showy colors, she'd had Mr. Oldman's people create pants and a tunic of a dark brown shade that went well with her hair, boots that rose to her knees with a flexible leather, but hard soles and steel tips in the boots, and a new helmet inspired by Alexandria's, that left her mouth bare, but hit her face behind a tinted visor.
Better yet, Yuki dressed identically. The only concession to her base power was that underneath her clothing she wore a skin-tight neoprene suit that was close enough to her skin that she could take it with her when she went ghost. Getting it on her was an adventure.
A white, stretch limousine pulled into their parking lot. The driver climbed out, towering above the car. Obsidian, again. Taylor felt like calling out his name in greeting, but paused when she felt just how nervous the large man felt. Even in his suit, tie and masquerade mask, she could sense Obsidian's discomfort as he climbed out of the car.
Next came a tall, gaunt man in a formal tuxedo, complete with tails and a top hat that put him at over seven feet. Even with six inches on Obsidian, his thin build made him look like a walking stick.
The last man out wore a nicely tailored pin-stripe suit and leather shoes that even to Taylor's uncultured eyes looked expensive. The illusion of class ended about the time her eyes reached his great spike of almost fluorescent green hair. He wore a hockey mask that had been painted to resemble a crazed happy face with a bleeding hole in the forehead, with the mouth section cut away.
Two more men climbed out behind him. Neither wore masks and looked like a pair of Godfather extras in their off-the-rack suits. One carried an aluminum bat, while the other was tossing what looked like a large hammer. Everyone out of the car were capes, she sensed, but those two. And yet, the most danger the Force warned her of came from those two.
Bastard Son empowers objects that give their users inhuman skills with the object.
From what she'd read on PHO, he had no limit to how many objects he could empower, and the objects retained their power just as long as he wanted them to. He was considered by many one of the most dangerous capes in the country. The story went that if you were a marine with automatic weapons and ten other marines behind you facing a little girl with a spoon given her by Bastard Son, you were a dead man.
"Heh. Looky here," Bastard Son said with a patently face Cockney accent. "Entourages' girl at last. What say you, Nonpareil, have you had the pleasure?"
The gaunt man in the tux shook his head.
"I've not had the pleasure, though our colleague here has met her more than once." He tipped his hat to Obsidian.
"Well, let's have a look at you, heh?" Though he looked short next to Nonpareil and Obsidian, Bastard Son stood a little over six feet, and so had several inches on Taylor. She met his gaze squarely through her mask.
"I was told to expect you," Taylor said. She forced her voice to remain even. "What can I do for you gentleman tonight?"
"Quite the polite one, heh?" He walked right up to her, leaning forward into her personal space. "Agnes said you had potential. Nonpareil back there says you're paying your dues like a good little girl. Are you a good little girl?"
"The Bratva didn't think so."
He glared at her for a long, pregnant second. Then, abruptly, he laughed.
"That's my girl. You're fucking Elite now, you don't take shit from anyone. Except me, of course. Or the other Governors. Who's this lass?"
"This is my partner, Yurei."
"Partner? When'd you get a partner?"
"When she helped me get off the Russian's boat."
He stepped into Yuki's space. Taylor could sense her friend start to stumble back in alarm from him, but knew that would fail his test and stopped her from moving with a Surge of the Force.
Stand up to him. Earn his respect.
"What's your power, heh?"
"Stranger/Breaker," Yuki said. Her voice didn't tremble, but it was softer than normal. "And…some of Quintessence's power."
Bastard Son stepped back with a quizzical frown. "Some of her power? How's that work?"
"She partially triggered off me, I think," Taylor said. "She has her primary power, and a secondary power of mild telekinesis. We're exploring what other of my powers she may have gained."
"Fascinating, heh there, Nonpareil?" He glanced over at the gaunt man who merely shrugged. "So, my girls, you're wondering why we're here? Elite's showing the flag. Been a parley called, we're going. If the Parley pans out, we're going to be going into a nice little party in Portland. The governors want you in on it. Consider it a way to pay off our initial investment."
This man thrummed with danger in the Force. He was a threat to her and Yuki, as dangerous as the Bravta. He also had political power over her-power that could be used to destroy her life with nothing more than a phone call to the local television station. Danger or not, Taylor felt she had no choice.
"I'm at your disposal."
"Good girl. Come on, then. There's plenty of room for you two in the paddy wagon."
They all piled into the limousine. The two unpowered men rode up front with Obsidian, while Bastard Son and Nonpareil took the forward-facing rear seats, leaving the back-facing rear seats for Taylor and Yuki. A black-tinted glass wall separated the front seats from the rear compartment.
"So, heard word you and the Uwibami had an exchange, heh?" Bastard Son said when they'd settled in. He reached into an ice chest built into the floor between the seats and removed a can of beer, drinking almost the entire can in one long pull. "He convinced the Tekiya to wait before coming down on your skinny ass. Time was up, though."
"What does that mean?"
"No site can be gang neutral unless there's a parley. Well, there's a parley. It's not about you, but we'll bring it up. Or Uwibami will, heh?"
"Nuevo Familia recognizes I'm neutral," Taylor noted.
"Heh! Nah they don't," Bastard Son said with a snort. "Tell 'er, Nonpareil, heh?"
"Nuevo Familia considers you theirs," the gaunt man said. "The girl you healed is the sister of one of their lieutenants."
Raul was a Familia lieutenant?
"Heh, while we're at it, do a bloke a favor, will you?" Bastard Son tossed his beer can onto the floor and held out his hand. "Wrist has been bothering me. Broke it a while back—little tussle went wrong. Think you can fix it?"
Again the danger pulsed in the Force with an almost tactile feeling to it. She thought at that moment that it was a test. Just like Agnes Court's broken leg. If she refused, or did a bad job, he would attack her. Doing her best to ignore the screaming warning in the Force, she leaned forward to take his wrist.
She completely misunderstood the warnings. Just as she started to grab his wrist, Bastard Son flipped his hand, gripped hers, and then yanked her violently onto his lap. The movement was so unexpected, even with the Force guiding her, that for a brief second when his hands reached under the fabric of her blouse and grasped painfully at her chest, she didn't know what to do. Not at any point, in the Force of her imagination, did she imagine this possibly happening. Why didn't Gabriella warn me?
That moment lasted only a split second. She was Bendu, the Force was her ally. She started to reach for her saber, but she wasn't fast enough. In that split second between shock and response, Nonpareil tapped her arm and Yuki's leg. She knew nothing about his power at all, but upon his touch her body went utterly limp, refusing her commands completely.
"So this is the little whore Entourage showed you up for, Nonpareil?" Bastard Son sounded both indignant and smug.
"Indeed," the gaunt cape said. His voice, in contrast to his appearance, sounded high-pitched and slightly effeminate. "The governors agreed Seattle was mine once we ran Overmind out. Entourage violated the Board rules. We can't touch her—not with Agnes's patronage. But as you surmised, her underlings are fair game."
Inside her mind, Taylor screamed and cursed at her body for betraying her. She felt nothing in the Force at all from her own limbs, though she felt the monster's cold, calloused hands groping her.
"Well, those Russian blokes saw something about her. Let's see what's under the hood, shall we? Aye, that's the ticket. You'll do for an evening's entertainment. The boys'll enjoy your little friend there."
Taylor could not command her own body. She could not grip her lightsaber and stab this monster in the chest. Whatever Nonpareil's power did to her, it robbed her of all control over her own body. It didn't rob her of the sensation of a man beginning to rip her costume off.
A strong arm held her across her chest while with his other he fumbled with the wide belt at her pants. She was trapped again, and in those dark seconds it felt almost as if she were back again in the locker.
Trapped.
I am more than my body. I am more than this crude matter. I am Bendu. The Force is with me. And this... will... not... HAPPEN!
Though her body would not move, the Force was still with her. She gathered it into her mind, letting it fill her soul until she tingled with it's potential.
And then, in the Force alone, she SCREAMED.