Step 5.12
I wallowed in self-pity just long enough for the PRT troopers to tell me I needed to go with them.
Of course everyone saw me grab Count by the throat, because fuck me.
Ramius' hands came down on the table. "You cannot assault foreign dignitaries!"
I sat still, and made my displeasure clear. Arms crossed over my chest, back straight, a nice little frown on my face. My anger went both ways. I resented being dragged into a fucking interrogation room, and I resented losing control of myself. It's exactly what Piggot wanted, and I gave it to her.
"At least tell me why you did it," Ramius pleaded. "Give me something."
My hands tightened.
I hated that I lost control of myself. I hated the little room they stuffed me in. I hated the obvious one way window on the wall, and the camera in the corner. I imagined Piggot watching with amusement from somewhere, a bag of popcorn and everything.
She said I'd fuck up eventually.
I hate it when people I hate are right.
And for what?
The man had cancer. Assuming Count only manipulated instead of manipulated and lied, nothing I did mattered. Sam Stansfield either died tonight or in however many months. Dean survived as a contrived result of my running from a room, but that didn't help.
Someone died in front of me, again.
I failed, again.
"It doesn't matter," I mumbled. "Can I go now?"
Ramius frowned. "Just because Count isn't pressing charges doesn't mean Piggot can't have any filed."
"Not much I can do about that now," I mumbled.
Some things can't be changed.
Ramius slumped back into her chair. She pinched the bridge of her nose, inhaling sharply.
"Damnit, Taylor. Piggot was about to let it go. There wasn't enough consensus for her to get what she wants."
Did telling the truth help me here? I didn't even know how Count knew the things she knew, other than "thinker bullshit." What I'd seen of her so far, I figured she must be a precog like Dinah. She seemed to have more specific information though, like how to find me in my civilian identity.
Damn it.
I should have pressed her sooner.
Which is the thought that led me to realize the bitch purposefully avoided me. Which just brought the anger back. I bit it back. I'd figure something out to deal with Count after extricating myself from a small room under Piggot's watch.
Except I didn't have a clue on how to do that.
The door opened, the PRT sergeant from the Pavilion sticking his head into the room.
Ramius straightened her back and stood up. "Sergeant?"
"Ma'am. Word came down from the Director." He nodded to me. "She's free to leave."
"What?"
Ramius and I asked the question at the same time.
"I just do what I'm told," the sergeant said.
"It's my fault." The door opened wider, and Count pushed past the man. I scowled at her smile, and she said, "This was a misunderstanding. I'm sorry it's gone this far."
"And the Director gave this an okay?" Ramius asked.
"I insisted."
Ramius turned, glancing to me like she wanted an answer.
I rose in response and walked to the door. The sergeant stepped aside so I could pass.
"What do you mean by misunderstanding?" Ramius asked.
"I'm afraid I said some unfair things," Count explained. "I think the young heroine took them for insults." I scoffed and stepped into the hall. "As I said, a misunderstanding. I'd hate for the young lady to be in trouble on my account."
"I see," Ramius mumbled.
"Again, my apologies."
Count started following as I went down the hall. I picked up my pace, but she maintained a perfect five paces behind me. Ramius and the sergeant kept more distance, but not enough that I'd risk saying anything.
What is her game?
Or rather, how much did she know?
How much did I know?
She knew a lot about me. Did she want to lord my identity over me? Assault charges? Use the threat of exposing information to threaten me into doing something for her? That thought gave me a small chill.
"What happened to Mr. Stansfield?" I asked.
"He died."
I wanted to grab her throat again. She fucking deserved it.
"He's at the morgue," Ramius said. "We've detained those you captured, and the shooter. He's a member of the Empire, but we're not sure if he's connected to the other four."
He was, but how? No way Kaiser sent him to shoot anyone. Not like that. So, who hires an Empire thug and sends him to kill an old man?
Actually, a lot of people came to mind.
Blue Cosmos, maybe. Lone gunman. Someone who just hated Blue Cosmos. A lone group of radicals. Too many possibilities.
"How did you know?" Ramius asked.
"Know what?" I asked back.
"That something was wrong?"
"I—" Fuck.
I thought Count warned everyone about the threat, which she didn't. Now Ramius would yell at me for not saying anything.
"I warned her," Count said. "I confess, I arranged for her presence at the concert in the first place specifically to handle the matter."
I stopped, glancing over my shoulder and glaring from behind my visor. The woman gave me a small smile and folded her hands behind her back.
"And you didn't say anything?" Ramius asked.
"It was rather sudden," she lied. "My power doesn't really work promptly."
Bullshit.
Ramius frowned. She continued following us into the lobby, and then turned toward the reception desk.
Count followed me out into the lobby. Now she seemed to be waiting, but for what? She maintained her pleasant smile, and stood there like she expected something.
"I'm not apologizing," I said.
"That's fine."
"I could have saved him."
"Maybe. That's not how it happened."
I snarled. How badly I wanted to do something to wipe that smile off her face.
"He didn't have to die."
"No one has to die," she replied. "For what it's worth, I couldn't have told you any more than I did. The nature of my power is limiting."
I scoffed. She knew the man had cancer. She knew my fucking name. That I gave the tickets away. Like hell she didn't know enough to help me save Samuel Stansfield's life.
"I only know what I must do to reach my goal," she explained. "Example, right now my power is telling me that to reach my goal, I must state that I only know what I must do to reach my goal. I don't know how, or why."
I raised my brow.
I pegged her for a precog. That power sounded like precognition, but precognition that skipped the actual future seeing and went straight to how to do something. Actually, that power didn't make a lick of sense.
"It didn't always work that way," she added. "Circumstance has left me with far less flexibility than I once had."
And her power told her to say that? Wait, why is her power telling her to say that?
"I have no idea," she said with a widening smile. "It would seem, not making an enemy of you is important to my goal. Curious. I've made many enemies over the years. My power has never directed me to make amends before. Very curious."
Amends, she called it. Right.
She must be satisfied with that somehow, because she nodded to me and started walking away.
Did I forgive her?
Well, if that's really how her power worked, then what was I supposed to do? Keep being angry about her doing what little she could? That wouldn't be right.
Or she handed me a load of bullshit to manipulate me. Goal, don't make Newtype my enemy. Thing to do, saying the old man who just died had cancer. Yeah, that'll get the brash young heroine off your back. That tracked.
"And what is your goal?" I asked. "Protecting Relena Peacecraft?"
Count continued walking. "No."
Then Relena was just a piece in her goal? That's…fucked up.
"Peace," Count mused. "Peace for all time."
I raised my brow.
A voice behind me said, "Here."
I turned toward Ramius, my saber and phone in her hands. Green circled my feet. Guess they'd held him at reception too.
I took my phone and saber. They both seemed fine.
"Why did she do that?" Ramius asked, watching Count as she left.
"To make amends, according to her."
"For what?"
"Doesn't matter now."
I made a quick exit. I didn't want to deal with Ramius, or Piggot, or even Dad. I wanted to just sit down, but five steps out of the building I stopped.
Two PRT troopers stood nearby. They gave me a cursory look, and then kept standing.
"Dean?" I asked. I quickly corrected myself, saying, "Mr. Stansfield, what are you doing here?"
Dean lifted his head and looked up at me.
He sat on the steps leading down to the street, hands folded in his lap. His eyes looked bloodshot, and so did his suit. Blood stained the dark colored material, a few holes obvious in his back. I heard the gunshots again in the back of my mind.
"Sorry," he said. "I—They wanted to ask me some questions but I didn't really…I don't know. I'm just…"
Crap.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I tried."
"I know. It doesn't feel real, you know?"
Mom… "I know."
I did know, and looking at his face I knew exactly what he felt. I debated whether I should say it, but I decided saying it at all would be enough. He'd at least know I really did understand.
"He's not going to be there in the morning," I said. "I'm sorry."
Dean nodded. He licked his lips a little, and hung his head.
"I thought I was ready. I thought, I'd be ready when…I thought there'd be more time."
He trailed off, but my brow was up.
"Ready?" I asked.
"Hmm? Oh. I don't know"—he stopped himself and sighed—"Doesn't matter now, I guess. He was sick. Didn't want me to be surprised when he passed."
So, Count isn't lying?
"I told him he didn't have to die," Dean said. "I thought about asking Amy—uh I go to school with Panacea—for help." Dean shook his head. "He said, he wanted to do something important, and he wanted to see my grandmother again. He didn't want to be healed. Wouldn't even consider chemo."
Count wasn't lying. Which meant, what? She told the truth about her power, and she didn't know exactly what would happen? No, she still could have told me it wasn't Relena who was in danger…unless she didn't know that at the time?
Turning my attention back to Dean, I didn't know what else to say. Only time can heal loss, and even then it's not like I'd ever fully get over mom.
"I hope he sees her," I offered. "Your grandmother, I mean."
Dean nodded. He forced a smile on his face. "Me too. Sorry for dumping all this on you. I just needed to sit for a bit."
I raised my head and looked around. The street wasn't busy, but a few people came and went. They seemed to pay more attention to me than Dean. The troopers maintained a stoic silence. Impossible to tell where their interest lay with helmets over their heads.
Whoever killed his grandfather might still want him dead too.
"Is anyone coming to get you?" I asked.
"Oh, no. No, I'm just going to walk over to the center. I have a room there. Spare clothes. I don't really want to go home right now."
Would they try and finish the job?
Killing Dean after the fact, in a whole other incident might draw unwanted attention. Maybe make it look like even more of a conspiracy. Someone who set up an assassination, and a backup assassination, couldn't be that reckless.
Not something I wanted to chance.
I glanced to the troopers. They shook their heads. No intention of escorting him then, or he refused their offer.
"I can walk with you?" I asked.
"That's okay. I don't think you'd get a very warm reception. Blue Cosmos and all that."
"You don't seem so bad."
He smiled weakly. "I try."
I didn't want to force him, but I definitely didn't want him to go alone.
sys.t/ navy red pink
sys.t/ follow Dean
sys.t/ make sure he's okay
sys.h[ny]/ okay okay
sys.h[rd]/ going going
sys.h[pk]/ watching watching
The three of them broke off from the formation above.
"Green can go with you. He'll go his own way before you get there. Just far enough to make sure you're alright."
Green rolled over to him and popped his ears.
"Hello hello!"
Dean sighed and waved his hand. "Alright, thanks."
sys.t/ watch him
sys.v/ I will
Orange and Purple followed me. Short of a sniper, or a gunman in a crowd, the Haros should be able to keep Dean safe.
I'd be more careful this time.
Two Haros traveled ahead of Dean, checking the streets for any signs of potential trouble. They'd investigate any they found and Green could steer Dean away.
He'd probably be okay. If someone really wanted to manufacture a tragedy by killing him too, they missed their chance to do it cleanly.
I pulled out my phone and called Lafter. The troopers wouldn't let her ride to the HQ building with me, seeing as I was technically under arrest.
"Hello?" she asked.
"Lafter?" I asked back. "Where are you?"
"Oh, is this your one phone call? Neat. Wait, why are you calling me instead of a lawyer? Never mind. Hold tight, we're coming to rescue you!"
"I—What?"
"We're coming to rescue you," Vicky said. "Well, mostly we're going to show up and badger Piggot until she lets you go, but that's sort of a rescue."
"If you ignore the dictionary," Amy mumbled in the background.
"Also," Lafter said, "flying is so much fun!"
Flying? With what, Glory Girl?
I shook my head. "It's fine. They're letting me go."
"Who was that?" Lafter asked. "Is that the smug lady?"
"Um. Okay. If y—"
"Wait!" I glanced back behind me.
Dean walked the opposite direction, Green keeping pace at his feet. "Follow Dean."
"What?" Vicky asked.
"I second that question," Amy said.
"He's walking to the Blue Cosmos center in Downtown," I explained. "From the PRT building. I offered to walk him there, but he turned me down. Green's with him and I have three Haros following—"
"But you're worried someone might try and cap him?" Vicky asked. She sighed. "Yeah, fine. We'll follow him from above. He'll never know we were there."
"Really?" Amy groaned.
"I don't want him dead," Vicky admitted.
"More flying then?" Lafter asked. "Sweet."
Well, if Dean wasn't safe before he'd definitely be safe now. Vicky to smash anyone who tried anything, and Amy to patch him up if they got close. Plus Lafter.
Best I could do.
I worked my way back to the workshop. I ignored passersby and anyone trying to get my attention. The last thing I wanted was to stop for selfies. Not tonight.
I slipped in through the back, opening and holding open the door.
"Welcome back," Veda greeted.
Purple and Orange descended from the sky and entered behind me. I looked around the old office space, contemplating a bed. Not much point now. I needed to find a new place for my workshop anyway.
My phone rang as I closed the door.
"Ramius?" I asked.
"Sorry," she replied. "Dragon called looking for you. Something about Guild business."
Guild business? What did that mean? "Okay. I'll call her when I get the chance."
"Are you alright, Taylor?"
"I'll be fine. Promise."
I ended the call and stuffed my phone back in my pocket.
My fingers lingered for a moment, but I sighed and ignored it.
So, bed in the new workshop. Two actually. Lafter needed better accommodations while I worked things out.
I set the Haros' cradles on a table and straightened a few tools. Didn't really need to.
I checked on Dean to be sure. Fine so far, and the Haros didn't see any problems ahead.
The Haros saw Vicky flying overhead, Panacea held in a bridal carry while Lafter clung to the flying heroine's back.
Leaning back in my chair, I stared up at the dozen unfinished and half-made designs. Right, tinker's block. Like writer's block, but more frustrating because lives hung in the fucking balance. Of course, even with a suit Samuel Stansfield would still be dead.
I wanted to relax and not deal with anyone, but now I didn't know how. My tinker's block remained. I didn't feel like sleeping in a chair. A strange sensation, wanting to do anything and yet not feeling like doing anything at the same time.
"Are you alright?" Veda asked.
"I'm okay," I said, again. It wasn't a lie, not really. I'd get over my latest failure like all the others. Just a matter of time. "Only frustrated and brooding for a bit."
Nothing wrong with a little brooding. I'd bet a little brooding from time to time is healthy.
"I have researched colon cancer," Veda revealed. "You could not save him. If not tonight, then in coming months he would pass."
"I know."
Knowing I couldn't change it didn't make me feel any better.
"I watched him die, Veda. Whether or not he'd die anyway, months later? That doesn't matter." I closed my eyes. "It shouldn't matter."
"Why?"
"Because he was a person. People deserve better."
"I mean, why do you feel responsible? It was not your fault. You know it was not. Why is it your responsibility?"
Ah, that kind of question.
"Because someone has to be. If not me, then who? Count maybe, but if her power really works like she described then she only knows what to do when her power tells her to do it. I should have been more prepared."
Past two weeks might as well be summed up as such.
Did I set a record for setbacks? No other capes sprung to my mind thinking about how much of my own progress I'd destroyed. I saved Relena, but only after a dozen plus deaths. I caught Skidmark, but the Empire and ABB smelled blood in the water with his incarceration. I lost my suit.
Another gang war in the making, and no suit at hand to help me curtail it.
I can't even save one old man.
No one deserved to die. Sure as hell, no one deserved to be gunned down.
And why? Not by Kaiser. A master? Greta acted weird, but she might just be a bad actor. Blue Cosmos wanting to keep him from going against them? They might work with an unpowered thug, especially since I already knew about Teacher.
…
Teacher.
I sat up, gears turning.
Whatever he intended to achieve by unveiling Shadow Stalker, I foiled it. Or, at least I seemed set to foil it.
But people acting strange, shifting in personality? I didn't remember her name, but Ramius implied the PRT leaker was the last person anyone expected to be behind it. Dean and his grandfather seemed shocked by Greta's behavior, and she insisted she didn't do anything after I caught her. I thought her denial a bad act, but what if she really didn't know what she'd tried to do?
But how does screwing over Samuel Stansfield get Teacher anything?
I cursed.
Because he was going to break from Blue Cosmos, publically.
Absentmindedly, I pushed a hand into my pocket. Fingers slid over the surface of my phone, closing around a narrow cylinder and pulling it free.
I turned the syringe in my hand.
If they wanted to poison him, why have a shooter?
A backup plan maybe, or something else?
Did the bigots feature in Teacher's plans too much for him to risk such a split? What if his presence in the group wasn't just a one off thing? What if it was more pervasive?
Actually…Blue Cosmos did everything but make the PRT's life easier. A standing body of people ready and waiting to always oppose the Protectorate and the PRT at every turn. People who bought into inane conspiracies and nonsense. The perfect patsies for a master manipulator.
Could I prove that?
"Taylor?" Veda asked.
"Hmm?"
"What are you doing?"
I looked down. I'd gotten up at some point and started building something.
Some kind of centrifuge?
I continued working.
"I want to know what's inside this syringe," I said.
"Is that not evidence in a murder?" Veda asked.
"Yes."
"Should it not be handed over to law enforcement?"
It should, but, "I have to know."
Veda didn't protest further.
Count said she knew what to do, but not how or why she needed to do it. She only knew having me at the concert helped her reach her goal. Peace for all time she said? Peace for all time, what did that mean?
Teacher created chaos everywhere. People got hurt and died, and for what? What endgame did he want? Maybe something that got in the way of Count's goal. Maybe just random destruction. Either way, something about him might get in the way of Count's goal enough her power interceded.
So what's in this vial?
"Dragon is calling," Veda said.
"Put her through," I mumbled, not really paying attention.
"Newtype?"
"Mhm?"
"Oh. I know that response. Am I interrupting?"
"Working on something."
I closed the panel on the side of my centrifugal spectrograph and turned to look for a test tube. I got a few from my haul of Leet's stuff. Never used them much since I didn't do a lot of fancy chemistry.
"Are you doing well?" Dragon asked. "I wanted to call you after everything that happened last weekend, but we've been preparing for the next Endbringer attack and I've found myself absent time."
Right, Endbringers. Almost that time, and it should be Leviathan next. I needed to put something together or I wouldn't be able to help.
"I'm okay," I said. "Frustrated."
"I know the feeling. When I lost my first suit, well, not to be dramatic but it felt like losing—"
"A friend?" I guessed. That's how it felt for me, somehow.
I pushed the start button but nothing happened.
Sigh.
"Yes," Dragon agreed. "Yes, a friend. Well, I have something that might cheer you up."
I opened the panel and poked around inside the machine. "What?"
"You're aware the Guild maintains a bounty system for certain kinds of capes?"
"Yeah." I fixed the loose wire and closed the panel again. This time, when I hit start, the machine started. "I've heard about it."
Mostly S-class capes. The Nine, Heartbreaker, others. I heard Kaze was on the list once, but got removed when she switched sides. The Guild acted as a global group, so unlike the Protectorate they went basically anywhere that didn't explicitly forbid their presence.
"Ali Al-Saachez has a bounty," Dragon stated.
My head went up, my machine momentarily forgotten as I returned to full awareness of my surroundings.
"What?"
"Ali Al-Saachez," Dragon repeated. "Not that we knew his name, but he has a Guild Bounty, ever since the murder of Tinker Soldier in 2007. The Protectorate isn't allowed to accept Guild Bounties. StarGazer, Laughter, Forecast, and you are the only other capes who participated in his capture. Well, and Chariot, but he seems about to join the Wards so it wouldn't really be appropriate."
I nodded. "How much?"
"Seven hundred fifty thousand dollars."
If my jaw could dislodge itself and fall to the floor it would have.
"Seven hundred fifty thousand dollars?" I asked.
"Yes…He's responsible for, quite a few deaths. Elusiveness and difficulty in gathering any information on him resulted in the bounty going rather high."
Seven hundred fifty thousand dollars.
Seven hundred fifty thousand dollars.
"Seven hundred fifty thousand dollars," I whispered in disbelief.
"It is a rather large amount," Dragon agreed. "Do you want it?"
"I—" Did I want it?
Stupid question.
Of course I wanted it, with Seven hundred fifty thousand dollars I didn't even need to wait for Blue Cosmos' lawsuit to go through or anything.
Only, "It's blood money."
"You wouldn't be the first to think that," Dragon admitted. "Or the first to turn it down, if you do. We don't keep the money in such cases. If you'd rather, I could direct the funds to a charity of your choice."
He killed people, and I'd get paid for it?
That thought turned my stomach.
But, after retaking my seat, I couldn't ignore how much I'd be able to do with $750,000. I needed to turn that sum in itself over several times just to make sense of it. Dad could work his entire life and he'd never have that much money. I could work my entire life, in a real job, and not have that much money.
Enough money to build a new suit, dozens of suits even. I could buy the land for the factory, start hiring. Enough money to start building the Haros, and I'd already proven my software worked. I just needed to tinker proof a final design.
For the tomorrow you aspire for.
I swallowed. Too much money, with too much good at stake, for me to ignore it even if it turned my stomach.
"I'll take it."
"Of course. Do you have a bank account? I'll remind that you will owe taxes on this reward as income."
I nodded. "StarGazer, can you set all that up?"
"Yes," Veda said.
I felt dirty, but I'd get over that too.
Seven hundred fifty thousand dollars. A crap ton, even after accounting for what I'd lose to taxes.
And now I have an opinion on progressive income tax. Funny.
I raised my head.
"Dragon, do you know anything about a cape going by the name The Count?"
"The Count? Hmm. Guild files list her as a cape from the Sanc Kingdom. Relena Peacecraft's informal body guard. Curious. I don't have a picture of her."
"Do you know what her power is?"
"We only have her listed as a thinker."
Just a thinker, then?
"Why?" Dragon asked again.
"I had a run in with her."
"I see…Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't know anything happened tonight."
Guess she looked up the incident. "It's okay. Things happen."
"Are you alright?"
How I hate that question, and all variations of it. "I will be. Just brooding a bit."
"She will get over it," Veda confirmed.
"There's nothing wrong with a little brooding," Dragon offered. "I've done it myself. What do you think you did wrong?"
I raised my head. "Did wrong?" I asked.
"I find it helps to ask myself what I did wrong. We're capes, not perfect beings."
What did I do wrong?
I assumed Count's warning pertained to Relena. Yeah, that was a mistake.
I didn't for a moment consider anyone else as a target. The people in the crowd, Canary, New Wave, the Stansfields. Pretty sure I saw Max Anders in there. More than a few people might want to hurt him.
I didn't watch the crowd closely enough. I let my guard down after stopping Greta. I shouldn't have.
I should have asked Dinah one fucking question. If I'd just asked what happened to Relena tonight, I'd have seen she wasn't the target.
"A lot of things," I said.
"That is unfair," Veda protested. "You did what you could with what you knew."
"I need to be better than that."
My machine dinged behind me.
I spun around in my chair and looked at the readout.
Not poison. I mean, it could be in the right dose, but looking at the chemical make-up and letting my power decipher it that didn't seem the main purpose.
A freezing agent?
"Everyone makes mistakes," Dragon said. "Don't strive to never screw up. Strive to never screw up the same way twice. And then be ready to screw up in whole new ways."
"It's called life," I mumbled.
"Exactly."
I pulled the test tube from my machine and pushed aside some papers to clear some space. Dinah's drawing of the Yashima and Celestial Being logos caught my eye.
We're not perfect beings?
I set that thought aside and looked at the test tube.
A compound that froze the blood and internal organs from the inside out.
Someone wanted to freeze Sam Stansfield?
No, someone wanted to shoot Sam Stansfield without killing him.
They only planned for Dean to die.
"Dragon, I need to go. Sorry. Something came up."
"Is it something I can help with?"
"Not right now."
I let Veda continue talking to her.
My attention turned to the bank of monitors over my work station. Dean entered the final stretch on his way to the Blue Cosmos building without any sign of trouble. Would he be safe there?
What's the point of killing Dean, but saving Sam?
Break the old man? Or maybe, make him reconsider speaking out against Blue Cosmos?
Arrange a shooting, and then inject him with a freezing agent that will keep him from dying. They probably set someone up with a counter agent. An EMT, nurse, or doctor. Someone to erase the evidence before anyone noticed.
Dean dies. Sam backs off his newfound tolerance. Or maybe not. With Dean dead, the more radical parts of Blue Cosmos might shout Sam down. Keep the group on its current course without any threat of a shifting direction.
"Veda, I need Dean's phone number."
"Searching."
I set the test tube down. "And I need Dragon."
"Hmm? What?" Dragon sounded confused. "Newtype, what's going on?"
"Do you know any Tinker who can produce a freezing agent?" I asked. "Something that can freeze a body while leaving it outwardly normal?"
"That sounds like something Glace could come up with," Dragon said.
"Glace," Veda identified. "A member of Toybox."
Toybox, again.
My hands tightened. First that asshole and his weapons, and now this?
"What's going on?" Dragon asked.
"Samuel Stansfield wasn't the target," I mumbled. "When I stopped his driver, she was holding a syringe. It's a freezing agent. I think whoever set up the hit wanted him to survive and Dean Stansfield to die."
"Why?" Dragon asked.
"Because Samuel Stansfield wanted to speak against Blue Cosmos, publicly."
"That's…unlikely."
"It's the only way this makes sense."
"Newtype, that would imply that Blue Cosmos arranged a hit against one of its own members that hinged on tinkertech. Blue Cosmos hates capes, and they don't trust tinkers. They'd never hire or buy from one."
"They would if someone else was pulling the strings," I said. "Someone like Teacher."
"That…Do you have any evidence to support that?"
"I—" Crap.
Dragon knew about my power, but how much did she know about my situation? I knew at least one pet had to be in Blue Cosmos in Brockton Bay. Someone fairly high up, manipulating things. Knowing that though entailed details about my identity. Not that I didn't trust Dragon, but I didn't want to just give things away.
"I need to talk to Ramius," I said. "Sorry."
"You know something?" Dragon asked.
"It is sensitive," Veda said.
"It is. Thank you, Dragon."
I called Ramius and told her what I found. After being chided for hanging onto important physical evidence in a murder case, she told me to bring the sample to the PRT immediately. Armsmaster could confirm my findings and then she'd start a case file.
"This is much more serious," she warned. "It implies Teacher's presence in Blue Cosmos isn't opportunistic, but pervasive."
"Exactly. I might be able to find out more. Dragon said this kind of substance could be produced by Glace. I can contact Toybox and—"
"No, Taylor. Don't. This is bigger than you now."
"But—Does this jeopardize our plan?"
"Maybe. Maybe not."
Fuck.
"I need to talk to Piggot," Ramius sighed. "This elevates the situation to something much direr. Don't. Do. Anything. I mean it. Teacher isn't a gangster, or a thug. He's an international terrorist. Sit tight. Wait for me to call you back."
She hung up, and I stared at my phone for a moment.
Don't do anything?
Has she met me?
I sat down and started thinking.
What do I know for sure?
"Taylor," Veda warned.
"I don't do nothing."
Honestly, you'd think people would notice.
But I can't keep making the same mistakes, not this time. I need to take things slow, figure them out from every angle. If Teacher wanted to use Blue Cosmos to sow chaos in the world, then I couldn't ignore him.
There'd be no room for someone like him in a world made right.
"There's a pet in Blue Cosmos," I mumbled. "Someone plotted to kill Dean, but not his grandfather. They bought tinkertech from Toybox to do it."
Not enough. I needed more.
Information, that's how I've been winning. It's how I'd keep winning.
"Number found," Veda announced.
I dialed it and held my phone to my ear.
"Hello?" Dean asked.
"How badly do you want to know who murdered your grandfather?"
He gave me his answer and I hung up. Of course he said yes, just in more words. I'd work out the details with him later. Investigating the local branch of Blue Cosmos would be easier with Dean on my side. If he felt the same way Samuel did, then he'd help.
How much to tell him though? I didn't need Blue Cosmos knowing my identity.
And I needed to keep up with everything else. I couldn't make that mistake either, sacrifice what I'd achieved pursuing one goal recklessly. The ABB and the Empire would move against the Merchants. Victor and Alabaster would be moved to their cells soon, and I needed some way to keep the Empire from busting them out. Same for Skidmark and the Merchants.
And there's an Endbringer coming.
I need a suit.
I sat down, staring at my mess of designs and not sure where to start.
Opening up YouTube, I started hunting through some of Canary's music videos. Not something I'd have thought of before, but my mind felt clearer while she sang. Like I could focus on how I really felt.
What I really wanted.
"This one."
I hit play and let the music start.
Turning back to the designs, I closed most of them out. A few didn't even have a name and I didn't want to worry about that now.
I needed to focus on what I needed in the moment, the capes I expected to fight plus Leviathan. The Full Armor system would be useful. It's modularity meant I didn't need to tie the entire design into it. I'd simply let it expand on the base model.
Something flexible, like O Gundam, but more refined.
"Veda, open a new project file."
"File name?" Veda asked.
A name?
Something more impressive than O Gundam maybe? I pulled up Google and did some searching. I found a few names, but most were actively in use by a cape somewhere. I did not want to wade into that legal gray area.
One name came up clean though.
I liked it.
I closed the search engine and got to work.
"Astraea."
