Chapter 2

Hopefully I was about to get my parahuman medical license. That would allow me to act as a doctor in many respects though the specifics were decided on a case by case basis. Mine would probably allow me allow me to make diagnoses and administer treatments, but not write prescriptions.

"Hello I'm here to get my parahuman medical license." The receptionist told me to wait in the lobby. A minute or so later Renick came out and called me back to his office.

"Good morning Aceso. Panacea confirmed that you can heal people effectively and that means all you need to do is sign that you will not use your powers to harm people while you claim to be healing them." He handed me a packet with a line at the bottom for me to sign. As much as I hated her, living with Carol had taught me to read these things. It said what the deputy director claimed with a few more things that I was fine with, like not using my powers to unmask people, so I signed.

"Thank you," Renick said, collecting the papers, "I'll go get your license." He left to get a nice piece of paper stating that "The Parahuman Response Team East North East certifies that Aceso possesses the qualifications prescribed by law and is hereby granted a license as a parahuman physician and surgeon."

I thanked him then looked at the piece of paper and smiled. This would be very useful.

"You're welcome. Now that you are a licensed physician were you thinking about healing people at Brockton General Hospital?"

"Yes, among other places. I don't see a reason to only work at one place."

"Of course. I thought you should know that the PRT and Protectorate could help immensely in managing patients and keeping anyone who might want to harm you from doing so." Ahh, the recruitment pitch. I was hoping I would have a bit more time before I had to deal with this, but they would want to get to me early.

"I suppose that does sound useful, but I was planning on selling my healing and I'm not sure the protectorate would be amenable to that."

"If you did join the protectorate you would certainly be paid a sizeable salary."

"I would prefer to be able to control my business."

"I understand, but I don't think the local villains would allow you to do that, especially a powerful healer such as yourself."

"Well if I do happen to have issues, I'll be sure to join the Protectorate immediately," I drawled.

I looked around at my tree house. Not that it was in a tree. Well actually it was in a tree. It just wasn't up in a tree. I had made a big box out of living wood around my original tree, okay?

This was actually pretty cool. I had been planning to move into an apartment when I could afford to, but this was a good way to show off my powers to customers and I could change it whenever I wanted.

First, to make my bed a bed and not just a mattress on the ground. I made sure to put little swirly things on the bed posts so it looked nice. I should also add some sort of temperature control, but I wasn't really sure what I needed. It wasn't too hot or too cold last night so I would cross that bridge when I came to it.

Actually, wait, there was definitely an immediate problem: oxygen. There were no windows or openings in my little room so there was no way for new oxygen to get in. It hadn't been a problem yet because it was a decent sized room and I had only been in here for 10 or so hours, but if I was going to stay here for any length of time I needed a way to get more oxygen in here. I could just make a window, but I didn't want animals or bugs to come in here, especially since Skitter was still around.

I could try to make the trees photosynthesize the carbon dioxide into oxygen, but taking the CO2 from inside the room and the sunlight from outside would be very difficult. It would also take way too long; I would consume oxygen far faster than a few trees could produce it.

A filter to let oxygen in and CO2 out without letting anything else in would be good. I made millions of microscopic holes in the roof to let air pass through, but ones that were too small for even water to get through.

Was air flowing? I had the cells on the walls of the air holes grow cillia to try and feel the passage of air and they did seem to be feeling a breeze.

Next was a toilet. I didn't want to have to hike back to civilization to go to the bathroom without squatting in the woods. I didn't have the infrastructure to make plumbing at the moment so I can just make a septic tank. I created a small alcove under ground and made sure it was sealed so it wouldn't leak into the ground water. I made tubes from one corner of my little room down to the alcove. I would need to make a bathroom later since I didn't really want to be able to see the toilet all the time. I took some of the bacteria in the air that tend to decompose feces and put them on the inside of the tube. I made the tree start producing some sap with compounds the bacteria would eat and sent it down the tube.

I also put some scent gland things I remember seeing in orchids around there too so it wouldn't smell as bad when I started using it. I also made a toilet over the tube so there wasn't just a random hole in the ground in my house.

Okay, my house was less bad now so I should probably work on figuring out how I would advertise my business. What should I do? I could stand outside the hospital and tell people I could heal them. No, that was really dumb and probably illegal.

I could introduce myself on PHO and try and get people to come get healed by me. That sounded like it could work. I could also talk to Faultline's Crew and get business from them.

Now to walk two miles to the library. Yay.

My PHO introduction had gone as well as could be expected.

I had gotten a "verified healer" tag after showing the mods my license and people seemed excited that a new healer existed though some people were pessimistic assholes and thought the empire was going to strongarm me into joining. It's hard to fault them since it's happened before.

At least seven people did say on my thread they were going to come to Brockton Bay because I would increase their chances of getting healed. I would have plenty of clients if I had seven out of city customers within five minutes of announcing my business.

Since the only way people had of getting in contact with me was PHO I would need to check it fairly regularly and get a better system as soon as I could afford a phone. I would check my messages in a couple hours and see if anyone was ready for me to heal them today. I figured I would at least have a few people to choose from.

First, I wanted to develop ties here. Someone I could call if I got into trouble. The Protectorate was good, but was incentivised to get me to join. New Wave was also an option, but as far as they were concerned they didn't know me. Except Panacea and she thought I had hit on her. I would need to clear that up with her pretty soon, but that didn't keep me safe in the short term.

The best option I saw was Faultline's Crew. They were reliable, weren't likely to pressgang me, from what I knew of them, and I was something they almost certainly wanted. Who didn't want a healer?

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Private message from Aceso:

Aceso: Hello Faultline I'm interested in purchasing your services in exchange for healing.

Faultline: What kind of services?

Aceso: Protection

Faultline: We're willing to talk. Meet us at Somer's Rock.

Somer's Rock was on the other side of town and I can't afford the bus. Public transport is finally available again and I can't take it.

Somer's Rock was a dingy little bar that I was somewhat surprised hadn't collapsed yet. Both because it had been a meeting place for capes since before I was born and because, obviously, no one had ever paid to make sure it was structurally sound. Which actually made sense—why would you put money into a building which would be destroyed in a cape fight any day now?

I swung open the door, watching a couple of paint chips fall to the ground, and stepped inside. Sitting in the chairs surrounding the largest table in the center of the room, facing me imposingly, were Faultline and her teammates: Newter, Gregor, Spitfire, and Labyrinth.

Faultline wore an interesting mesh of riot gear and a dress. She had a full face mask and a bulletproof vest while also wearing a skirt. Maybe it was a bulletproof skirt? That would be kind of cool. She was sitting in the center of her team between Newter and Gregor with her arms folded. She couldn't use her power to directly hurt me, but if she opened a hole underneath me I didn't have much of a counter.

Gregor was to Faultline's right. He was a big guy with translucent skin and a big belly, which I knew was something he could use to mix up chemicals to spit at people. I could probably design some bacteria to break them down if it came to a fight, but I don't think I would have enough time if he hit me with acid.

Newter had bright orange skin and dark red hair, though I remember it being pink. Did it change or did he just dye it? Either way it added to his strange color scheme, which was topped off with his eyes. They were light blue, corner to corner with no sclera. I couldn't see it, but I knew he had a tail that he sometimes used to deliver the hallucinogens in his sweat to people during fights.

On the far left next to Newter, Labyrinth appeared to be relatively present; she was looking at me and didn't have the dreamlike expression I noticed last time I saw her. Her power was crazy strong. She could replace her entire surroundings with another dimension. Tattletale had used her shaker power in conjunction with Scrub's to open a portal to another Earth; no one had done that since Professor Haywire decades ago. She was also pretty cute.

Spitfire was next to Gregor and wearing a full body red suit. It reminded me of a cross between Harley Quinn and a hazmat suit. It was almost certainly fireproof. If it came to a fight, the sterilization from her fire would be annoying, but I did know a little bit about thermophilic bacteria so I wouldn't be too out of luck.

Their positioning was a fairly obvious intimidation tactic, would have worked on me when I was fifteen, but most of the people I met in the Birdcage were far scarier.

I figured the best thing to do in this situation was to not let them see my nervousness, even if it came from worry that the deal wouldn't work out instead of their intimidation attempt.

I walked to a chair opposing Faultline and took a seat. I'm not sure if I should be the one to start the conversation or if I should wait for her to- Faultline began talking, interrupting my train of thought.

"You said you wanted protection. Protection from what?"

"I'm a rogue and we don't tend to last long. The only rogue in the city is Parian and that's just because her power doesn't have a lot of utility for the Empire. And even then I've heard they're making moves on her. My power would be very useful for them and I'm not confident I can chase them off constantly. I don't expect you to beat the entire Empire, just help me chase off whoever tries to fuck with me."

"'Whoever tries to fuck with you'? That's a pretty broad category," she commented.

"I'm still gonna want your help if the ABB or the Merchants come after me. If the PRT gets pushy we can negotiate a separate agreement," I said, shrugging.

"That's a very large request in exchange for healing when none of my team are even hurt. Unless you can help Newter and Gregor?" she asked. The two case 53s looked at me a bit more intensely.

"I can't. I might be able to change them temporarily, but they'd be back they way they were within a day," I admitted. Neither Gregor nor Newter look particularly surprised, but they did seem a little disappointed. That was true, but I did have a way around that. I could mess with their powers, the way I did to Skitter's, which could allow me to change their appearance permanently. I doubt they would go for it, though, as I still wasn't especially experienced at using my trump rating and I didn't want to give away that I had one anyway.

"Then I don't think what you're offering is worth what you want," she objected. I thought she was understating how much she valued my power, which isn't surprising. You don't want to look too excited during negotiations.

"You're a mercenary group. You're almost guaranteed to get injured eventually, and given the size of your team that would put you all out of action. Avoiding that must mean that you pass up on a lot of the better paying jobs you get offered. I'll also throw in a little extra, some tuneups and stuff: stronger bones, stronger skin, better vision—that kind of thing."

"Would these 'tuneups' apply to Newter and Gregor as well, since you said any changes you made to them would revert within a day?"

"I… actually don't know. I haven't tried making these types of changes to case 53s before. I don't think there's any kind of risk, so if they're up for it I can try and follow up with them the next day."

"We'll think about your offer and get back to you in a couple days," Faultline announced.

"I'll see you then."

The Humbert Hotel was one of those luxurious hotels that probably cost $500 a night. Perfect. I would get to healing more than just the super rich, but right now I need the money so I picked someone who seemed rich, a Mister Ross. He told me to come here to room 251 in New York. I had spent the rest of my money to get on a train and get here, so if this didn't turn out I was gonna be in a tight spot.

The decor was a little gaudy, but less so than I would have expected. There was a large chandelier and some paintings that looked like they were from the renaissance, but there were also some plain black chairs that looked pretty cushy.

The front desk was made of some dark wood, maybe mahogany, I don't know. I walk up to the man behind the desk and ask where Mr. Ross in room 251 is.

"If you take the elevator just over there," he points to the left "and go all the way down the hall it will be on the right."

"Thank you." I nod at him and go to the elevator.

The hall to Ross's room was pretty nice. It had some paintings of landscapes that reminded me of that painting with melting clocks, I didn't remember what it was called.

Okay, here it was, room 251. I knocked on the door and after a couple of seconds an older man, 50 or so, opened the door

"Hello I'm Aceso. I believe your son requires my services." He looked pretty grumpy; maybe I woke him up? No, he'd responded way too quickly for that. I supposed it would forever remain a mystery.

"Yes. Please come in." He pulled the door the rest of the way open and turned hobbled back to a chair and sat down. What was that walk? Did he have a broken foot or something? That would explain the grumpiness. "Jonathan! Can you come here please?" A boy came from a room to the right and looked at me for a second then, looked to the man. "This is Aceso. She's whom we came here to see. She can cure schizophrenia."

Jonathan looked at me and blinked. Tt was kind of creepy. His lack of expressiveness made him kind of seem like a doll and fall into the uncanny valley. I forced a smile and walked forward and put out my hand.

"Hello Jonathan, how are you?" I was pretty sure my smile was convincing, not that I could tell from his expression, which was still completely blank.

"Hi." He shook my hand and I took a look at his brain. The most obvious thing was that his cerebral ventricles, the pockets of fluid in his brain, were a bit large. Second was a little part of his frontal lobe called the medial frontal cortex, which was really close to the middle of his brain, but that didn't matter. It was small. Not tiny, but a little goes a long way especially in the brain, and his was like 7% smaller than normal. There were a couple of other parts that seemed small and his dopamine levels seemed high for just standing here. Did he think I was cute or something? No, there were none of the other signs of arousal.

I let go of his hand, before things got too weird. I don't think I was shaking his hand for more than three seconds. Probably. I stepped back and looked at the two of them.

"Okay! So what are you asking for specifically?" I asked

"We want you to cure Jonathan's schizophrenia along with whatever other mental illnesses or disabilities he may have," the man replied. May? Do they not know? I suppose they could suspect he has something else going on but they can't tell because the schizophrenia obscures most of the symptoms. Or they're just keeping their options open. Or both.

"Do you have reason to believe he has anything else? Just so I know what to look for."

"He has a bunch of the symptoms of bipolar disorder, but they're pretty similar to schizophrenia's."

"Okay thank you for telling me. I can cure the schizophrenia and the bipolar if he has it for $800,000." Stay calm. I picked him because he's rich. It's a lot, but not the most expensive surgery around. Heart transplants are about twice as much.

"That seems pretty high," the man grumbled.

Don't panic. "It is, but I'm offering a cure for something that the only other treatments are symptomatic and they're not that great either." He definitely going to pay. He just wants to see if he can get a better deal easily. Smile and seem confident.

He stared at me, considering.

"Fine." He stuck a hand out. I shook and realized that he did in fact have a fracture in his second metatarsal.

"Do you want me to fix your foot too? I can do it now for just like two thousand." I probably should have done this before I gave my price, but too late now.

He blinked. "I didn't know there was actually wrong with it. I just stepped on a rock."

Stepped on a rock!? Did he jump on it? "Damn, what kind of rock did you step on? Never mind. Yeah, you have a fracture, you want me to fix it?"

"Uh sure."

I grabbed his arm and got the osteoblasts to start replicating and made more osteocytes to fix whatever I didn't get around to and finished it up with some lining cells.

"OK, done. Give it an hour and you should be good as new."

"Wow, thanks. I had the impression that you worked slower than that." Shit! I completely forgot I was supposed to be super slow! I guess I'm glad that I didn't bother to make everything perfect.

"It was just a hairline fracture. If it was an actual break it would have taken me days." I said, looking away and trying to seem bashful.

"It is still very impressive. You can do it that easily for Jonathan?" he asked.

"The brain is much more complex, but I am confident." I walked over to the boy and held out my hand. He hesitated then gave he his hand. He was clearly nervous, going by his brain chemistry, though it seemed similar to worry. It was probably how paranoia showed up with my powers.

To actually cure him, the most obvious thing to do is correct the structural deformities I noticed earlier. I grew his superior temporal gyrus, his medial temporal cortex, and his medial frontal cortex. That mostly took up the space that was left open to the cerebral ventricles, but now I needed to let the fluid that was there drain so as to avoid hydrocephalus. I shoved it into the bloodstream. That's where it's supposed to drain to anyway, his kidneys will deal with it. I also fixed how his dopamine system worked and filtered out the excess in his brain. Oh! I guess that's why he had a bunch of dopamine in his system earlier, it's part of his schizophrenia. Finally I got rid of his paranoia and broke up some of those neural pathways to make him less likely to be paranoid in the future. I may also have skrewed up a couple of memories, but human memory is super fallible anyway.

One last sweep to check if I missed anything. I guess I didn't really miss this, but I'll fix up this cavity any way and… Done.

"You are officially cured of schizophrenia. I would recommend using your brain a lot in the next few days to get your new brain tissue doing things, though everyday life might be just fine for that purpose, so I guess you can skip that if you want to. If you have any more symptoms let me know and I'll take another look. I very much doubt you will though."

Jonathan smiled at me, then it widened into a grin, then it widened even more and he started laughing. He lurched forward to give me a hug, which I accepted. I wasn't that surprised, but I was glad that I could see positive effects so quickly.

"Thank you. Thank you so much," he cried into my shoulder. The man sat staring at us, slack jawed. He probably hadn't seen his son act like this in a while.

"Yes. Thank you. I can't tell you how grateful I am for you bringing Jonathan back to me." He started getting choked up toward the end.

"I'm glad I could help." This was less trying than I remembered it being. I thought I was desensitized to the gratitude years ago, but I had to admit, it was kinda sweet.