A/N: Review responses are in my forums. As a reminder, to give quarantined folks a little something extra to read, I'll be posting twice weekly until Quintessence is done-on Saturdays and Tuesday evenings. And with that, I present Love Death + Robots Worm style.
Chapter Forty-Three: Atop a Lonely Mountain
The grocer truck did not look like much as it wove through narrow, treacherous mountains. The truck at times came within inches of drop-offs of several hundred feet. Taylor sat in the passenger side of the truck, trying her best not to think about it. She was fairly certain she could cut her away out and survive if Scapetti took them off the road, but she didn't want to risk it.
The road should have been impassible this high in the mountains above Vancouver the day after Christmas. However, this road had filaments within the tinker-tech concrete that prevented any ice or snow accumulation, while increasing tire grip strength. The speed limit of 45 kilometers per hour (they were in Canada, after all) was not a suggestion, though.
"Relax, kid," Scapetti said as he drove. "This ain't nothin'. Drove a humvee in Nicaragua back in '04 on roads a helluva lot worse than this."
"Scapetti, I've seen your file. You're still in your twenties. Your not that much older than me. I'm not a kid."
He snorted. "Talk to me again when you can walk into a bar and have a beer."
Ahead, as the sun began to set, the road ended at what looked like a small car park and observation platform that, admittedly, revealed a spectacular view of the Squamish River Valley. As they approached, the rock wall before them split open reveal a well-lit tunnel. Scapetti didn't even slow down as they drove into the side of Mount Garibaldi.
The tunnel terminated in a loading dock large enough for the truck to turn around. Scapetti skillfully backed it up to one of the docks. By the time Taylor climbed out of the truck cab and up the stairs, Colin Wallis was already there waiting for them. She noticed that his right shoulder had been operated on again, and now had titanium bracing around what looked like a socket where his shoulder would have been.
"When did you get that?" he asked.
"Thanksgiving," he said shortly. "The upgraded T-shunt you licensed will result in a 90% improvement to both sensation and movement once the new arm is completed."
Scapetti opened the back of the truck, and together they began carting out the equipment that would, hopefully, give Dragon a body.
Collin, clad in khakis and a knit sweater, led them into the server farm where Dragon housed her sentience. "Hello, Taylor," the AI's voice said over the speakers. Even to Taylor, she sounded excited. "Thank you so much for coming. And you, Agent Scapetti, for driving."
"We're all off duty," Scapetti said. "Charles or Scapetti."
"Not Chuck?" Dragon asked.
"Charles means strong," Scapetti said. "Chuck means pussy."
"Charles it is."
The interface table was built to the exact specifications Taylor sent. She didn't even need to check to know-Dragon would do no less. She pushed the container pod next to the table, opened it to reveal the HRD within, and levitated it onto the table face down. It was fully clothed in a simple blue jumpsuit.
Taylor secured the gynoid to the table, and swiveled it up to gain access to the back of the table surface and the open skull of the gynoid's head. She swung the interface plate on the table up and carefully hooked it into the body before returning the table to its horizontal position.
At her motion, Scapetti pushed her portable station to the table where she began hooking up the ultra-high capacity filament tables into the server farm. "Dragon, I've finished the new simulated intelligence. I've named it Uriel. You've already reviewed most of the code."
"Ah, the archangel guard of Tartarus from the Septuagint. Fitting. I have the server space already dedicated to him."
"Okay, whenever you're ready, we'll begin the upload."
"I'm ready."
Even with cables capable of transmitting the equivalent of the Library of Congress in a minute, it still took almost an hour. "The programming is so elegant," Dragon said as they finished up. "I've successfully installed Uriel in the Birdcage. All systems are running at full capacity, no interruption."
Taylor couldn't help a sigh of relief. Nothing would be able to proceed if they couldn't safely separate Dragon from her Birdcage monitoring duties. The old AIs she'd managed to capture from her creator were not sufficient for long-term control of the parahuman prison. So instead Dragon and Taylor worked for two months straight setting the parameters of a new simulated intelligence to step in to keep the prison running.
It also had the added benefit of being accessible from PRT Washington and the Federal Department of Justice. No longer would the Birdcage be solely under Dragon's purview. The droid tinker was still getting paid a huge amount for her work, but now the US and Canadian justice departments would take a role in its status as well. By virtue of that, they were also taking the responsibility partially off dragon's virtual shoulders.
Taylor leaned back and looked around the room. "That's it, then. This is your last chance to change your mind."
"You sound like there's a danger," Collin said suspiciously.
"There is," Taylor told the man bluntly. "Dragon is more than her code. She has actual sentience. While nor organic, she has a spark of soul. There is no way for us to guarantee with one hundred percent certainty that the spark which makes her Dragon will transfer."
"But she transfers to her suits," he said.
Taylor shrugged. "I know. We're using those same parameters. But she's transferring into a receptacle from which she will never be able to transfer out. There is a danger."
"I understand, Taylor," Dragon said before Collin could respond. "I believe that the risk is worth the reward of being...free."
Artificial or not, Taylor could feel the entity's longing and desperation.
"Then let's do this," Taylor said. "The transfer will take four hours at least, and it will take another three or four hours for you to run through the various systems of your body."
"I understand. I've placed the facility on standby. I've made sure that quarters are available for you with food and drinks. I made sure to have Charles's favorite beer in stock."
Of course she did. "Okay, Dragon. Next time I see you, I'd better get a hug."
"That sounds wonderful, Taylor. I can't wait."
~~Quintessence~~
~~Quintessence~~
A gentle hand woke Taylor from her sleep. Her eyes snapped open to see a woman kneeling beside her. She had shoulder-length, almond-colored brown hair and eyes. Her face was pleasant and attractive without being unusually so. She wore a simple one-piece blue jumpsuit. Her smile looked pained and uncertain, her eyes cold and lifeless.
But within her, the Force blazed an almost painful joy.
Without a word, Taylor sat up in her bed, and then hugged Dragon.
"Thank you," the gynoid said. Her voice sounded patchy and rough. "I'm still working on subsystems, but...I can feel this."
The body had no tear ducts. A system for tears was deemed by both to be an unnecessary extravagance. But Taylor had no doubt that if she had them, she would be crying at that moment.
"Have you seen Collin yet?"
The woman leaned back. "My expression algorithms are still off. I don't want to…"
"Dragon, his expression algorithms are off. You wanted a body for yourself. But you wanted a fully functioning body for him."
Dragon didn't quite control her blush reflex. It made her whole face turn red. "It seemed important."
"Then you should go give it a try."
Dragon hugged her again. "I can't thank you enough for this, Taylor. A hundred million dollars doesn't even touch how much this means. Thank you!"
She stood, still clumsily, and walked stiffly from the room. Taylor had no doubt within six months she'd be moving perfectly. The hard part, though, was done.
It was almost seven in the morning. With a sigh, Taylor stepped into the shower. By the time she made it into the lounge of the guest wing, she found Scapetti already at the table eating scrambled eggs, bacon and toast, with a huge mug of black coffee.
"Made some for you," he said without looking up from his Capes Weekly magazine.
She made her plate, sat down, and ate. Scapetti finished his own meal, chugged the coffee, and put down the magazine. "So, any word?"
Taylor grinned. "We can leave as soon as you're ready."
"You're just leaving your stuff?"
"Dragon paid for it," Taylor assured him. "The original price was for the body, but she doubled it when we realized the scope of the project."
"Where is she?"
Taylor stood and took their plates to the sink to wash up. "She's asked Armsmaster to assist her with a diagnostic of the new body."
The man stared at her a moment, then back through the walls where the server farm was. "Is that what they call it nowadays? Merry Christmas to all, I guess."
Taylor shrugged. "I call it a hundred million. You should treat me nicer, Scapetti. I'm actually richer than Sarah is, now."
He stared a moment, then laughed. "All that money, but you still can't legally buy a beer."
~~Quintessence~~
~~Quintessence~~
One the one-year anniversary of her father's death and her trigger, Taylor walked down to the kitchen of her home to find Dinah cooking eggs. She made her eggs with a touch of cream and cheese, because that's how her mother taught her, and any suggestion of using the stored bacon grease in the kitchen was met with disdain or anger, depending on how serious the suggestion was.
"You're up early," Taylor noted.
Instead of answering, she poured the eggs on the plate, grabbed two pieces of toast as they popped up, as if timed perfectly with Taylor's arrive, and reached into the microwave for her favorite Johnny Don's maple-flavored breakfast sausage links. She put them on the plate and walked it to the table, where she put it at Taylor's place.
She didn't meet Taylor's eyes as she gathered a steaming cup of black breakfast tea and put it beside the plate with the carton of creamer. She then wordless hugged Taylor for a long moment.
Taylor woke up fine, she thought. She knew what day it was. She knew a year ago her father died and her old life ended. But she was also surrounded by a new family of her choosing, and had the respect of professional colleges and more money than she knew what to do with. Her therapy sessions were productive, and she had a promising career ahead of her. So she woke up fine.
Until this newly-turned 13-year-old hugged her, and she realized it wasn't fine.
Dinah didn't let go until the tears stopped. When she did, she quietly stepped to the counter to get her favorite bowl, with the Winnie the Pooh scene on the side, and filled it with Fruity-Os. Taylor said and wiped her eyes as she smiled. "Thanks."
Dinah shrugged. "Sarah's the only one who remembers. And she's a bitch."
The two Thinkers had a strange relationship—one of antagonistic adoration. They couldn't stand each other, and yet seemed drawn into constant verbal fights. While it could be fun watching them needle each other, it would also be draining for those who cared for them both.
Taylor ate her too-fluffy eggs with the gooey cheese, ate every bite of the microwavable sausage links (Dinah hated cooking anything that resulted in grease) and lathered her toast with raspberry jam.
And when she was done, Dinah said, "We're going to get a call today."
Taylor's stomach dropped a little. "Endbringer?" The last Endbringer was Behemoth. He attacked India while Taylor was in juvie and wiped out two million people.
Dinah shook her head. "S-class threat, 90 percent. Not an Endbringer. Not Slaughterhouse Nine." She shuddered a little mentioning them. "I'll warn the others."
"Should I stay home from school?"
"It's your first day of class," Dinah said. "If you skip without cause, it'll go on your record. Better to get the call."
"Right. Thanks for the warning."
Dinah nodded, then cracked a smile. She didn't smile much, not since she triggered. Like Taylor, she'd lost her parents and her family. She still had Triumph, who transferred with the PRT squad to live full time in the still under construction main building, but otherwise she was an orphan. It was her power and the power of the Protectorate that let her live full-time with Taylor and her friends.
"Do you need a ride to school?" Taylor asked.
"Rory's taking me," Dinah said between heaping spoons of sugary cereal. "He has to meet with my principal."
"Bullies?"
"Academic dishonesty, they said. They think I used my power to cheat on the state tests."
Taylor shook her head. "You could do what, maybe ten questions?"
"If I was lucky. It'll be okay. I'll see you later."
Taylor took her plate to the sink, rinsed it and put it in the dishwater to run later. She swung back around to give Dinah a hug. "Thank you for breakfast, sis."
"Welcome." Dinah didn't let anything show on her face, but Taylor had the advantage of feeling the surge of happiness. They were sisters in everything but blood.
~~Quintessence~~
~~Quintessence~~
Taylor wished, more than anything, that she could drop out of school and just take the GED. Unfortunately, the terms of her probation and her emancipation required her to stay in school until she graduated. That was why Dinah warned her not to skip. Her attendance had a lot more riding on it than a normal student did.
That's why when the Spring semester started, Taylor took a full class load. She turned seventeen in June, and with summer classes, she fully intended to graduate early.
School was an exercise in patience and tolerance. It wasn't enough that she was an outed cape. Because of the hit piece the Atlanta News Network ran on her and Yuki, the school considered her to be a violent New Hampshire lesbian. Given that the last outed New Hampshire lesbian cape went on a crusade to emasculate every man in the Brockton Bay area (which ANN also did a story on, making comparisons as it to suggest Taylor might do the same thing), not even the LBGT kids in the school wanted anything to do with her.
She wore her red shades to blunt the effect her black eyes had on teachers, but she'd never been called on in class during her fall semester. As she walked in with the other students from the parking lot, she did so in a halo of space none of her fellow students wanted to violate.
She went through security and went straight to her first class.
The call came during third period. Her PRT phone had multiple tones-an Endbringer-like ring for those calls, and a wailing siren for other emergencies that required her attention. The volume was adjustable depending on the Ward's circumstances. Those Wards with civilian identities had phones that vibrated. Often calls would route through the principal's office as well.
In Taylor's case, her PRT phone began wailing in a siren-sound not so different than a firetruck. At the front of the class, Ms. Anderson jumped and dropped her chalk in alarm. "What is that?"
Taylor removed her PRT phone, saw the summons, and turned it off. "Sorry, Ms. Anderson, I've been called. I need to go."
The teacher didn't understand at first. "Called by whom?"
"PRT, ma'am. There's a situation in Chicago and my team's being deployed. PRT should be letting the principal know." She grabbed her back and jogged out of the room before the startled teacher could say anything.
She got back to the compound in good time. With PRT funding and a new headquarters, the road leading to Taylor's home had not only been resurfaced, but poured with reinforced concrete. That made it that much easier for Taylor to reach the headquarters. The vehicle bay was still under construction, but they already had living quarters set up. When she rode into the parking lot, she found Horizon already in her full tactical gear.
"We've got parahuman transport in ten," she reported.
Taylor ran inside to get ready.
She found Stanitz in the women's showers pulling on her own gear, while Laura Davis was inspecting the cape's gear. Flechette, Mujaji and Insight had all eschewed their normal Protectorate costumes to don the same tactical gear the rest of the team did. They looked as Taylor ran in.
Insight pointed to her locker. "Got the new holsters in there for you."
"Thanks!"
She quickly stripped out of her school clothes and began pulling on the armor weave body suit. The boots went over the pants and sealed at the calf. She her control vambraces, then the gauntlets. "Davis, what's the mission? Jumping or pounding?"
"Don't know for sure, but Horizon said plan for a jump," Scapetti's second said.
Taylor grabbed the jump-jet she'd designed herself-a hyper efficient chemical rocket that fueled itself with compressors, paired with repulsor coils. They topped out at forty klicks an hour, but could fly for a full day when the suit was power. Taylor noticed that Davis had the Disruptor sniper rifle Taylor finished just four weeks ago.
A kill mission, then.
When Davis was done making sure the other three capes were set, she came over and helped Taylor secure her own jump jet. She'd designed and crafted all of their tactical gear, quickly replacing the PRT standard suits for armor weave and the special modular body sleeves. The places on the back could be hooked up to four variant backpacks, including the jump jet.
"Details are coming in the briefing," Davis said softly. "But it's bad. They've authorized the big guns."
Taylor nodded somberly. "Our first full team deployment."
The older woman grinned tightly. "So, we'll just have to show them what we've got, yeah?"
"Yep."
With that, Taylor pulled on her weapons belt. Lightsabers, blaster pistols, three foam grenades and three thermal detonators. The belt felt heavy as she strapped in on over her hips. She noticed that despite their powers, the other capes were also armed. Insight had no offensive powers, so Taylor had designed a pair of small plasters that fit her hands perfectly, and another disruptor sniper rifle that she hooked on the side of her jump jet. She winced at the weight of it, but gave Taylor a thumb's up.
Mujaji's striker power involved lightning, so Taylor built her a flechette gun. It was a shotgun on an industrial scale, and could clear a large room with a single shot.
Flechette was a special case. For her Taylor designed a rifle that allowed Felchette to touch each bullet. It had the same sniper scope as Davis' and Insight's Disruptor, but didn't require the energy charge. In fact, the bullets themselves were standard NATO 7.62 caliber shells. It was Flechette's power that made them travel as far as she wanted, and to penetrate anything she wanted to hit.
They moved out of the locker room at a quick jog. When they reached the front of the building, they found the rest of the team already there. Triumph was in the same tactical gear as the rest. With the exception of the slim back domino mask, he didn't look any different from the PRT agents.
Campanile, though, was the one exception. His power made tactical gear pointless. Taylor had crafted a thin black and silver armor weave body suit for him that didn't quite call out his body shape as offensively as before. But he couldn't wear a helmet or weapons. On the other hand, in his breaker state he was powerful enough to tank a blow from Leviathan.
At least once.
Reality tore. Taylor stifled a moan when she saw Strider appear with Alexandria. She saw the assembled team and nodded. "You're ready for your first deployment, Horizon?"
"Yes, ma'am," Horizon said with a firm nod.
"Then let's go. Legend's on site and will brief us there."
Taylor began concentrating on separating herself from the Force as much as she could. She was not going to puke on her first official mission. Around her, the other capes and agents of their squad formed up, arms over each other's shoulders to reduce the amount of space Strider would have to cover.
"Remember, this is a no-puking flight," the man said.
"If I do, I'm aiming for your shoes," Taylor warned, a split second before the world tore itself away from her senses. It lasted only a split second, but it was a split second that seemed to cut the front part of her face off and send her mind reeling.
"You good?" Insight whispered.
Forcing a nod, Taylor said, "Yeah."
"JORD, with me," Alexandira said.
With the shock of the teleportation wearing off, Taylor was able to finally look around to see where they were. What she saw was a massive parking lot that had rows and rows of cars. They were walking toward a generic-looking single-story business with a red brick and glass front across the street from a row of apartments.
There were a line of buses and National Guardsmen desperately evacuating people. Inside the building were dozens and dozens of capes that Taylor didn't recognize, and a few she did. Chevalier was there, with Myrddin and Narwhal. Taylor bit back her nervousness. Though all three were on record as decrying her light sentence, she was now technically a Ward and on the same team.
Legend was there, though Eidolon was noticeably absent. The head of the Protectorate saw Alexandria and the team behind her and nodded somberly.
"Now that everyone's here, let's get started," Legend said. "Unfortunately, we don't have a lot of information because the situation went south quickly. What we do know as that at 9 AM this morning, 15-year-old Araceli Santiago was processed at the Warrenville Youth Center. She was under arrest for the murder of a 78-year-old man in his home. The prosecutor tried her as a youth due her age, the fact that she was six months pregnant and heavily addicted to methamphetamines. By 10 AM, every inmate and staff member at the Youth Center was dead, and these creatures were spilling out to all the surrounding area."
Behind him, the wall flashed white as something projected a high resolution image of a nightmare. It looked like a monster from a bad 80s sci-fi flick. A bipedal lump of fleshy slime dominated by a massive mouth lined in teeth, with a long, prehensile tongue.
"What we know is that this is not just a tool, it's a vector. If one of these creatures is able to break your skin, you will die and your body will become one. It is not a temporary effect. These are one bite, one-kill creatures. This is a Nilbog-level threat. Casualty estimates are already in the thousands."
Which means there are thousands of these creatures, Taylor realized.
The image turned to video. Insight stepped up beside Taylor, watching intently. "Like Overmind," she said aloud. "She retains control and awareness. She can see through them. See, there? One spotted that SWAT team, and twenty others attacked all at once."
Rather than stop her, Legend nodded for her to continue. "Insight, Thinker 8," he told the other assembled capes. "What else can you tell us?"
Insight shook her head. "I can tell you JORD's mission. You're sending us directly into the Youth Center. We'll have to hit hard and fast-the creatures will collapse in the moment the Master realizes we're there. But if we can take out the Master, that'll end the threat."
"What is JORD?" Chevalier asked.
"Joint Operation Reaction Deployment Team," Alexandria said. "A new unit out of Seattle that I helped form for just this type of situation."
Chevalier wore distinctive silver and gold armor in a neo-Renaissance fashion with a faceless helm. It made him look like the extra from a 50s period piece. But he used his striker-power to fashion what he called a cannon-blade that was no laughing matter. Though she couldn't see his face, Taylor could sense his eyes on her. She met his gaze squarely, not bothering with a mask.
"Quintessence?" It sounded more like a statement than a question. Her name raised a stir from the other capes in the room.
Alexandria nodded. "Quintessence has the ability, among other things, to grant limited pre-cog to an entire theatre. This leads to a demonstrable increase in unit cohesiveness that you, yourself, witnessed both against Overmind and Leviathan last year. We built JORD around that ability. This is their first formal deployment."
"The rest of us?" Taylor was surprised to see the same all-metal Ward that she saw against Leviathan. Weld. "What're our roles?
"The rest of you are to buy time to evacuate civilians," Legend said. "Every civilian that falls becomes a weapon for Scylla, the bio-striker and master. The JORD team will deploy by air drop directly onto the facility. All of you, this is an S-Class threat and all restrictions are off. You are to take any and all action necessary. We cannot allow this plague to reach Chicago proper. The president has authorized air strikes if we are unable to contain the threat."
Insight was whispering to Alexandria. "How much info on the building can you give us?"
"Pads are in the transport with building blueprints," Alexandria said. "Will you be deploying?"
Taylor looked at Insight. "You're no good to us dead, Insight. We'll need your mind, you can see through our cams."
"Agreed," Horizon said. "Insight will stay at HQ for tactical oversight. There rest of you, load up and get ready. It's time to go kill some monsters."