Step 9.6
Coil's arrest didn't make the news outside the Bay. Fair, I supposed. He wasn't a big name, even in Brockton Bay. Lots of people much older than me had never even heard of Coil. Throw in the capture of the last free member of the Teeth—a nationally known violent gang—and it made for small news.
Good for Rune, I guess.
Hemorrhagia and some unpowered creeps apparently thought it would be fun to jump 'Orbit' and two other Wards during a regular patrol. That earned her a free bug swarm and a trip to being smacked around by two cars and a dumpster. Weaver and Rake might be fresh Wards, but Rune was an experienced cape. I image hanging around Hookwolf is good experience for dealing with the Teeth. For once she'd done something good with that.
Whenever Butcher finally showed back up, it would be without a gang. At least for a little while.
Still, someone did take time to give me a congratulations call.
"Thank you," Dragon said.
"I can't prove it," I admitted. I moved some of the chemicals around. I wasn't used to doing traditional chemistry, let alone bio-chemistry, but I was slowly getting the hang of it. I think. "Coil succeeded in deleting most of the information from his servers."
"The scrambler targeted strong electromagnetic waves at the hard drives," Armsmaster noted. "Very little data was recoverable."
"StarGazer has a pretty good memory," I replied, "so she managed to grab a lot of it from when she hacked into the system. All I can really prove with it is that Coil sourced tinker-tech from places other than Toybox and bought things other than weapons. He acquired some medical equipment around the time I think Cranial came into the city, but I can't prove it was for her."
I never figured out what he was hiding in that big room, and I didn't know why it unnerved me so.
"The hypothesis is sound." Armsmaster stood over the computers in the center of the room, carefully ignoring those in the corner beyond sight of any cameras. "The PRT and Protectorate would probably never say anything regardless of outcome. We don't make a habit of clarifying which villains are guilty of which crimes."
"I know," Dragon acknowledged. "But it means something to me. The woman I knew started Toybox for the sake of children with nowhere else to go. However lost she became, I can't fathom she'd ever purposefully put their lives at risk."
I didn't want to argue with her. Cranial kidnapped kids. That in itself put them in danger, never mind whatever the hell she did to them. I definitely didn't catch how invested she was in Cranial back during the battle with the Merchants.
"The children are still at large," Armsmaster pointed out.
"I've been looking for them passively," Dragon revealed. "That hasn't turned up much. None of them have attempted to contact their families, and none have been spotted outside Brockton Bay. For whatever purpose, they are sticking together."
"You people really know how to make this boring," Mouse Protector groaned. "You guys know that?"
I turned my head away from sight of the cameras and frowned.
She's enjoying this.
"Perhaps we should tell some jokes?" Dragon suggested.
This is the joke.
Despite her comment, Mouse Protector was grinning like a mad woman. Fortunately, Dragon apparently didn't know that. Armsmaster said she didn't poke her nose where it wasn't requested. That's the whole point, really. Even though she could basically go anywhere, Dragon respected privacy. She didn't enter a system unless given explicit permission. Something she and Veda had in common, most of the time.
Fortunately, Dragon bought the easy excuse for Mouse Protector's presence. Mouse Protector's version of easy.
"Because it's inexplicable," Mouse had said. "And everyone is going to ask why I'm doing it, and that's why I'm doing it!"
She is bizarrely good at lying.
Dragon tried to offer her own time, but that would defeat the point. Fortunately, everyone seemed intent on trying to see Armsmaster and I as reluctant to admit we liked each other. Which is bullshit, but Armsmaster had the idea of using that, so we did. We let Dragon think we were trying to get along on our own with no need for a proper referee.
Thinking back to the last thing Dragon said, I replied, "If their goal was to take revenge on Coil, they might make an attempt to gain access to his cell.
I glanced over my shoulder, making like I was looking at Armsmaster, but really looking past him. My eyesight wasn't phenomenal even with glasses, so I couldn't see the screens in the corner of the room. We were passively recording Dragon's code. Passively, to avoid drawing her notice.
The conversation was just a dirty pretense. Mouse Protector knew it, and she just couldn't help herself. Or something. Honestly it was kind of annoying how she kept making comments only Armsmaster and I really understood, at Dragon's expense. I didn't really need her to make me feel any worse about what we were doing
"They did get out of the PRT building. Would they be able to get in?"
"Doubtful," Armsmaster retorted. "Their escape was aided by timing and surprise. They showed no signs of aggression during their detention, so we kept them under lower security. Now that the entire PRT and Protectorate are present, it is unlikely. I also suspect Coil would work against such an end for his own benefit."
That did give me a small smile. The idea of that asshole using his power to help the PRT and Protectorate to save himself was amusing.
"We're aware of his power then?" Dragon asked.
"Yes," Armsmaster replied. "He can split time and pick whatever outcome he wants. We were able to test it fairly safely, and he offered no resistance."
It explained why he succeeded against all odds. He got two tries at everything. The perfect power for a mastermind. It surprised me he showed it off so readily. The Think Tank. The bastard probably hoped the PRT would shuffle him off somewhere quiet and unseen to be made use of. Worse, I suspect the PRT might do that. It was their MO, and 'Orbit' making the news only hammered that home for me.
Rune, if I were to take Tattletale at her word, wasn't a monster. She was someone who ended up in a rotten situation that kept getting worse. I could identify with that in my own way, so I could offer some rope to her. She was young too, and young people did stupid shit all the time. Maybe away from the Empire, she'd turn out better.
Coil though?
A man who plots the murder of children as a fucking stepping stone isn't redeemable.
"He called it controlling the future," Armsmaster continued, "but I take that as mere posturing."
It would explain why he would want Dinah. He went after her in a lot of possibilities, though it escaped me how he could become aware of her or the nature of her power. With the ability to do everything twice and pick the outcome he wanted, a precog like Dinah would be a huge advantage. Fuck, he could even burn up all her questions in one timeline and then pick the other and ask them again.
He could completely get around the limit in Dinah's power.
That really stung in a moment where it was a major problem. I could only ask her so many questions, and I expected Lung to act before I got the chance. Just another reason to show up at the Rig and work on Armsmaster's tranquilizer formula.
Lung had been too quiet for too long. I didn't like it and I'd need a few more days to quiz Dinah on all the questions that needed answering. All I knew at the moment was that he'd do something soon. Of course he would. I barely needed Dinah to confirm that.
With Coil gone on top of the Merchants, and the retreat of the Empire, the city was Lung's for the taking.
He only needed some inventive way of dealing with me. And my bet was that 'way' involved bombs and a tinker named Bakuda. He held her back last time, and that was a mistake. If she'd been there the two of them might have overwhelmed Astraea and Queen. I imagined only ego prevented that.
Lung wanted to win on his own and it cost him.
"We should consider that the children may not be motivated by revenge," Armsmaster suggested.
I took the proffered opportunity and ran with it, "If not revenge, why stay in the city?"
"Question." Mouse Protector raised her hand on her screen. "If Coil screwed Cranial to get the Merchants taken out, how would the kids even know about it? It's not like they're psychic or something."
"Because—" I paused. Shit, that's a good point. How would they know about it?
I dismissed it at the time, figured they found out somehow. But, if we were really getting into the gritty of it, how would they know?
"That still begs the question," I continued, "why stay in the city?"
"We never secured whatever computer system Cranial was using," Armsmaster proposed. "It's possible the children have access to resources she hid away."
"For what?"
"What did Cranial want?" Mouse asked in reply. I glanced at her image on the monitor. She'd lost that stupid big smile and seemed oddly serious. "No one ever figured that out, right?"
"She babbled too much," I answered. "Nonsense. I don't know that she really wanted anything."
"She wanted to tell me something," Dragon offered. "She was about to say something before…Before she died."
"There? That doesn't really say anything."
"I don't think she was saying there. She was about to say Theresa."
"Theresa?" Mouse Protector asked.
"Oh." Dragon silently stuttered for a moment. "My name…My name is Theresa."
"Cranial knew your name?" I asked.
"I told her, early in my career. Toybox was the only real source of tinker material outside of the Protectorate and the Protectorate didn't yet have a Canadian branch at the time."
I tried to think it through, but I came up blank. There wasn't enough information. Dinah might be able to provide something, but Lung preoccupied my thoughts at the moment. Even with an arsenal of tinker-tech the kids had avoided a fight rather than pursue one. If it stayed that way, they would stay lesser priority than the ABB.
But what if they didn't?
I remembered that look in their eyes. When Cranial died they didn't shed a tear. Instead, they looked like they'd move heaven and earth. For what? What did Cranial make them to do?
"Something about a system," I remembered. "And a source."
"It's too vague to make anything out," Armsmaster stated. "Even the insane tend to operate on some kind of internal logic, however incoherent it might be to the sane. A search through Cranial's history may provide clues. I seem to remember a number of rambling PHO posts from years ago."
"Right before she was accused of the first kidnappings," Dragon said. "I remember."
"Would PHO still have posts from that far back?" I asked.
"Maybe," Dragon replied. "The CyberStrike attack in 2004 did a lot of damage to major websites, including PHO. The site had to be almost completely rebuilt. It would have been around that time."
"StarGazer could go looking," I suggested. "She's good at finding things."
"I'll probably have an easier time with it," Dragon said. "I'm a moderator on the forums in my free time."
"You're a—" Oh shit Dragon is Tin Mother. Fuck, that's really damn obvious when you have the pieces. "Right. Okay."
"I have a bad feeling about this," Mouse mumbled.
How incredibly vague.
"And don't you have school?"
I lowered the machine in my hands and looked at the time. Damn.
"School is important," Mouse added. Her big goofy smile was back. "And I'm supposed to be a role model, so I cannot in good conscience recommend skipping. In current company."
Armsmaster and Dragon both frowned.
"What?" Mouse asked. "I'm doing it aren't I?!"
I sighed and put the device down. I was in the middle of trying to improve the speed of the tranquilizer without improving lethality. Not something I currently knew how to do, but my power was working it out. Never needed to do much chemistry before, least of all bio-chemistry.
Honestly, I was ready to go back to making a plaything of physics.
"A transport can be arranged," Armsmaster offered.
"It's fine. I need to pick up Lafter, anyway." It's time to do something for her. "I didn't get much done with this." I indicated the table full of his tranquilizer research. "My power is still filling in a lot of blanks."
"It can't be helped. Dragon, do you have time?"
"Yes," she answered. "Though it's not my normal hat."
Leave it to Armsmaster, I guessed. He'd be able to keep Dragon occupied for a while with that and we'd record more of her code. We'd identified a number of lines that seemed to never change. Her restrictions, I thought. We needed more.
The longer I looked at Dragon, the weirder it got. She wasn't like Veda.
I let Veda rewrite her program almost entirely. Only her kill switch never changed, along with her other two core attributes. Be for others, and never stop asking questions. From those three pillars, she could change anything. I made Veda like a…Like a pyramid. I made the base and she built herself piece by piece.
Dragon was more like an empty box. The lines of code that built the box, those were her restrictions. I thought. The more time went on, and the more I looked at her, that seemed the best fit.
Dragon said she remembered being a simpler program long ago, before her maker died. He regulated his programs. Controlled them. Maybe he feared AI, or maybe he wasn't ready to take the step. Dragon's code reflected that in a way. An empty box with some basic do's and don'ts to guide her actions, and the box learned and taught itself.
And somewhere along the line, the box learned to recognize itself and gave herself a name and identity all her own.
Richter…You never thought she'd grow this much, did you?
I don't think Dragon knew, and I didn't have a way to tell her without revealing what Armsmaster and I were doing. I couldn't do that, not until we found a way to free her from the prison I felt convinced Richter never intended. It put a new perspective on things.
I'll tell her.
Armsmaster left the lab long enough to get me to my suit on the helipad.
"Do you think she bought Mouse's excuse?" I asked.
"Dragon is not deceitful," he said surely. "And she struggles to see that in others. Which I don't say to imply she isn't insightful. She is, but her instinct is to trust and see the best in others."
Well, that would explain why she likes you. "I'll look at what we've record when I get the chance. Time isn't being very friendly right now."
We parted ways and I flew to the factory. After parking Astraea in its dock, I found Lafter on the couch and Kati talking to her.
"All I'm asking is that you don't mention 'nads' or any variation thereof," Kati said. "Not on TV at least."
"I'm just saying a good swift kick usually takes most people out," Lafter replied.
"And I'm all for fighting dirty as long as we don't make a habit of talking about it."
"Prepping for the news spot?" I asked.
Kati sighed. "Trying."
"She's talking at me," Lafter complained with a point of her finger.
I really should have seen it coming. I could respect Kati. As far as PR went, she was a good fit for me. She was willing to let me do my own thing and work with me as I did it. She wasn't too pushy and instead of giving me reasons to not do something, she usually gave me reasons I should do it. Maybe that's just manipulation, but it's manipulation I can live with cause it gives me room to be me.
Lafter on the other hand, naturally poked at Kati like she poked at everyone. Kati for her part seemed less patient with her than Dinah, Veda, or me as a result. I couldn't blame her. Lafter is kind of an acquired taste.
"Kids watch TV Lafter," I said. "Let's not encourage them to kick people in the balls on national television. We'll keep it as a trade secret." I glanced at Kati. "When are we scheduled for the spot?"
"Tomorrow night," Kati answered. "One hour on Radio 98.8. It's not TV, but it's what we have."
The PRT had booked everything for a PR blitz faster than I could even inform Kati of what happened. Probably helped that they had an entire staff for the job. I was thinking of getting Kati an assistant or two. She shouldn't be managing everything for four capes—five including Trevor—and an entire business by herself.
"I'll keep Lafter on her best behavior," I promised. "We can probably slip Forecast out of her house for a sleepover as cover."
Kati nodded. "I'll let the station know. And I'll keep hunting for some time on TV. The PRT is taking this more seriously than I'd expected. They've booked out all the normal talk shows, but I think I can get us something."
"Thanks." I turned to Lafter. "Come on. Time to go."
"Go? Go where?"
"School."
Lafter raised her brow. "What?"
"Time to learn. Let's go."
"Wait. Hold up! When I kept joking you're a mother hen I wasn't serious!"
"Too bad. I'm completely serious."
Green rolled toward me, dragging a bag behind him. I picked it up and dropped it in front of Lafter.
"You'll need some pencils and a notebook."
"What?!"
"Come on. Veda is driving."
She got up and followed me to the van. "But I don't do school."
"You don't, or you haven't?"
I'd already heard that the nuns did give her an education. Ever since she ended up with me though, that stopped. She didn't want to stay with the sisters and put them in danger.
Her lack of legal residency made going to an actual school dicey.
In no small part though, that was my fault. I only looked at Lafter as someone to help me in my goals. I never forgot she was a person or anything, but I sidelined a lot of what a person should have. Kind of rotten of me.
"You're not going to do this forever," I said. "You're not like me, unable to live any other kind of life."
Lafter said it herself. She was along for the ride to see where it went, and when the time came she'd go her own way. Maybe not in the disappears forever sort of way, I hoped, but in the way that meant putting the mask away and living her life.
"That's going a little far," she mumbled.
"I don't mean it as a bad thing." No. I think it's a good thing. "You shouldn't be trapped in here all day, save for cape stuff and occasional outings when the opportunity presents itself. It's not fair and I should have done something about it before now."
Orange came up and jumped, holding out a piece of paper. I took it from his hand and read it over.
Getting Lafter a green card would be hard. The government had been cracking down on illegal entries over the course of a decade long global refugee crisis. There were too many people with nowhere to go.
It helped if someone was willing to stick their neck out.
"You need to fill this out."
I handed Lafter the paper after she got into the van. I noticed she was protesting, but not making any real effort to not come with me.
"What is it?" She took the paper and started reading.
"It's a special application for residency," I explained. "Ramius faxed it over. The PRT uses it for capes when it suits them."
Lafter blinked as Veda pulled out onto the street.
I directed Green, Orange, and Red to follow us. I'd become wary of attack the past few days. Queen was loaded into the van and ready to go, but Lung or Bakuda could still do serious damage in a surprise attack. Even with Dinah giving that an all clear, I wanted to be careful.
"Um," Lafter mumbled. "Who is Hannah Waltfeld? And Armstrong…"
"A Protectorate member and a PRT Director need to approve the paperwork," I told her, "and I wasn't going to ask Piggot. I asked Director Armstrong and Miss Militia if they'd be willing to sign off so you can get legal residency."
Nothing in the rules specified everyone involved needed to be from the same city. I felt kind of rotten asking Miss Militia, but she didn't protest at all. She seemed eager even.
I wasn't born here either, she said, and I only get to be an American because of the kindness of a stranger. I'll do it for someone else. I've seen enough of Lafter. She's a good hero, if a little odd.
I considered once getting fake papers for her. I didn't agree with the government's current policy, but it was a moot point. Lafter's identity was known and fake papers wouldn't protect her if anyone decided to be a real asshole about the fact she wasn't born here. I needed to do things the proper way, or rather, the capes-get-special-treatment way.
I didn't like it but it wasn't for me. It was for Lafter, who deserved something for all her faith up to this point.
"You can get a green card and you won't have to hide in the factory all the time. Your identity is known, but our reputation is firm. Anyone who goes after you in public will have Gundams beating them into the ground and I think most villains have figured that out by now."
And we'll be rid of the one I think is arrogant enough to try soon enough.
The city was changing. No more Merchants. No more Coil. The Empire in retreat and the ABB on its last leg. Crime was down across the board. Businesses were doing better. People could hold their heads high again and feel safe in their own skin without open criminals on every street corner.
Just driving through the little market district in the Docks, and seeing more people there than ever before confirmed it.
We're close.
Lafter stared at the paper in silence for most of the trip. I didn't even know if she wanted to be American or anything. She'd openly declared herself German in front of Othala, despite the complete lack of any sort of accent in her voice.
The van pulled into the PRT garage with a brief wave by the troopers at the entrance. We got one of the VIP spots by the doors, Ramius and Miss Militia waiting for us. Lafter fixed her eyes on the flagged woman as we got out, the paper still in her hands.
In a low voice I said, "It's her real name."
Lafter paled slightly. "Oh."
"Embarrassed," Green chirped. "Embarrassed."
"Hush you," Lafter hissed.
Of course, nothing on the form actually said 'Protectorate Hero.' Part of the PRT's endless and confusing labyrinth of paperwork. As the form made its way up the chain, Miss Militia's real name would be noted and that was all that was needed.
I walked forward, Lafter for once a little meekish.
Ramius and Militia greeted us and led us into the building.
"Did you want any help?" Militia asked. "With the form?"
Lafter didn't answer at first. Miss Militia kept quiet, which I appreciated. I don't think Lafter was ready for that and I didn't want her to feel too put on the spot.
"No," Lafter answered. "I can finish it."
"Just fax it back to me," Ramius said. "Or you can hand it in before you leave. I'll walk it to processing."
"Right…"
We arrived early again, so Lafter and I were the only ones in the room. Miss Militia didn't linger, which I think was easier for Lafter. As soon as she was out of sight, Lafter reached into the bag I gave her and found a pencil to start filling out the paper.
Lafter Frankland, born 1994. Frankfurt, Germany.
That sort of thing. It's a basic form really. Pretty sure you could fill it out not even knowing English for the first part. Probably purposefully. The PRT didn't turn down capes who wanted to help, which only made my unease more prominent. There should be some standards. Lafter started as a vigilante targeting abusive parents. She didn't kick off her cape life with money laundering and blackmail and top it off with pedicide.
Fucking Coil.
His power was good. Success in Brockton Bay proved it but damnit there should be standards. The PRT would extend leniency to Rune. Fine. Rune was a stupid kid doing stupid kid crap in the worst possible way. Even Sophia for all her monstrous inhumanity was nominally heroic in the most bullshit of ways. Fine. Fine.
But Coil?
I didn't notice the tension in my body until the door opened.
"Hey," Weld greeted as he entered. His eyes glanced over to Lafter. "Decided to join us?"
"Hmm?" Lafter raised her head from her paperwork. "Oh, it's the tin man." Kid Win followed in behind him. Lafter pointed her pencil. "And the cowardly lion!"
"Lafter," I groaned.
"It's okay." Kid Win—still hard to think of him as Chris, weirdly—shrugged. "I liked the cowardly lion."
Weld laughed. "I've probably got plenty of tin in me anyway."
He took his seat, the solitary wooden chair in the room. He glanced at the form in front of Lafter for a moment and smiled. Armstrong's name maybe, or perhaps he filled it out himself at one point. Ramius did say the most common use of it was for Case-53s. Lily, Olive, and Jet Steel came in next, taking their seats.
I raised my brow as Green climbed onto the table. "Where's Missy?"
"Here." She walked into the room looking a little worn down and pulled out her chair between Lafter and Olive. "Hey."
"Sup," Lafter replied.
"Tired."
"You okay?" I asked with a frown. The PRT usually took keeping the Wards healthy seriously. She looked exhausted.
"Hectic day," she groaned, planting her face on the table. "PR sucks."
"PR?" I asked.
"They've been running her hard all day," Weld said. "They really want to capitalize on Coil's capture."
"All I did was move things from A to B," Missy grumbled. "And Laughter caught Coil. I just grabbed his gun."
"All the luck in the world," Lafter whispered with a malicious grin.
"So you helped," Lily noted. "Take your share of the credit."
"It's not my share of the credit though." Missy turned her head my way. "Do you know anything about it? It's weird."
I shook my head.
Olive poked her head with a frown, saying, "At least you got to help. We got put on standby and missed all the action!"
"It was over in a half hour," Weld pointed out. "There wasn't much for us to do."
"There wasn't," Missy replied. "Which makes including me specifically in every press release and all the post-captured tours really weird."
Thinking back, I did hear her name in the news reports about the capture. The PRT mentioned the Wards, but that's just it. They mentioned the 'Wards'. They called Vista out by name as one of the capes who helped capture Coil. It was kind of weird now that I thought of it. Not to diminish Missy's contribution. It mattered, but the press releases and reports mentioned her as much as any of the Protectorate or Celestial Being members.
I wonder if Kati noticed it
It was weird how heavy the PRT was about Coil's capture. I suppose it was the first big thing to happen in which they could claim the leading roll. In the battle against the Merchants things had been too somber for celebration. No one wanted to parade with an entire building blown up by Squealer and all of Cranial's victim children facing an uncertain future. The Great Arrest was more my doing and the PRT and Protectorate just came along for the ride.
Whatever.
They could have their moment. I needed to keep my eye on the prize, and on Lung's next moves.
"I don't get what you're complaining about," Olive grumbled.
"Didn't you say you were tired of being treated like a kid?" Lily asked with a small smile. "You are the most experienced Ward on the team. I think you even said last week that you were more experienced than some members of the Protectorate."
"Me and my big mouth," Missy replied.
"Look at the bright side," Jet proposed. "All the attention being paid on you means I got to nap till noon."
"I'm glad you're pleased."
"It's fine," Chris said. "You can handle it. If I had to guess, when Weld and Flechette graduate into the Protectorate, they'll probably skip Alec and me to make you team leader."
And with that Missy perked her head up.
"What?" she asked.
"Huh." Weld scratched his metal chin. "That actually makes sense." He glanced at Chris. "You'd be okay with that?"
"Missy is the most experienced Ward," Chris continued, "and she's got one of the highest Shaker ratings in the country. I can see her as a leader too." He leaned over and looked across Lafter and me at Missy. "People would think it weird to make a younger member of the team the leader otherwise. They have to get your name out ahead of others to smooth things over."
And that did make sense. "I didn't know you had a talent for PR."
Chris shrugged. "It's not that complicated. I'm not suited for it. That's why they brought Weld and Flechette in. We needed a leader. And no one is ever going to put Alec in charge. Ever. No offense."
"Too much work," Jet replied. "She can have it. Girls with power are sexy."
Missy to my surprise turned red faced at that. I raised my brow but said nothing. Must just be embarrassment. No one could have a crush on 'Jet Steel'.
"Despite being fifty-nine percent of the cape population," Veda said from Green, "women only make up twenty-eight percent of Protectorate leadership positions and eighteen percent of Ward leadership positions. Though, between Alexandria, Dragon, Narwhal, and Cinereal, women in the Protectorate are quite prominent."
"There." Lily grinned at Missy. "See? Go fight that patriarchy."
"When did you get so interested in girl power?" I asked, looking at Green.
"I am merely stating the statistics. Technically speaking, the variance is partially explainable in the Protectorate by the median age of women and when they have their first child, but that does not account for the disproportionate variance in Ward leadership."
I smiled. Leave it to Veda to try math as a conversation starter.
"I hate statistics," Alec mumbled.
"That's because you suck at math," Chris replied. "And I have dyscalculia."
Lafter focused on her paperwork as we talked.
"What's your PR lady like?" Missy asked, looking at me. "She seems like she lets you do whatever you want."
I shrugged. "She's kind of hands off, I guess? She lets me do me. Probably the only kind of PR I'd ever have the patience for."
"Another reason not to join the Wards?" Lily asked with a small smile.
"It's not my thing," I replied.
"We don't really like it either," Olive mumbled. "They always make me do kid stuff with kindergartners."
"Kids need someone to look up to," Weld suggested.
"But why is it always me?"
"Because they don't send me to do it anymore," Missy said with her own small smile.
"I'll strike!" Olive protested.
"Oh, we're not talking about labor today." Professor Katagiri walked in with a big smile and carrying his books. He noticed Lafter at my side. "And you must be miss Frankland. Welcome. Always room for more."
Lafter raised her head. "Huh?"
"If you need any help catching up let me know," he said. "We're only one class in though, so you haven't really missed anything yet. Don't worry too much. I like to make classes engaging and discussion based rather than boring you all with my own voice and nothing else.
Lafter blinked and repeated, "Huh?"
"I suggest taking notes," I whispered.
"Now then," Professor Katagiri mumbled. "I believe we were just about to talk about brute ratings, and how they defy nearly everything we think we know about physics."
"Yeah," Jet mumbled. "Let's talk about that instead of the metal boy in the room."
"I have a brute rating," Weld noted.
"Yes, it is quite varied," Katagiri continued. "Maybe one of the most varied in terms of mechanic and effect of all the power categories the PRT uses. But that's not surprising. The categories are a construct made to assess threats. A power doesn't wake up in the morning and think 'time to go be a master today'."
He turned to us after setting up the projector.
"For example, Ms. Frankland if I may?"
"May what?" Lafter asked.
"What is the difference between a brute, and you?"
Lafter blinked. "Um, I can get hurt?"
"Can you? You've been an active hero for several months, and you've never needed more than basic first aid. Bullets practically move around you, guns explode, people trip. You're effectively surrounded by a force field of 'can't hurt me'. Yet, you're classified as a striker and a shaker by the PRT's threat classification system."
Lafter stared at him. "Maybe I'm just that good?"
I frowned. They classified Lafter? I mean, of course they did. They classified me too. Tinker seven according to PHO, right up there with Dragon and Hero, with a striker, blaster, and mover sub-ratings to account for the Gundam.
"The classifications are arbitrary," Professor Katagiri explained, "and threat based. Your power doesn't enhance your attacks in any way, but you are a striker in threat rating because your power itself makes close combat against you a dicey proposition." Lafter absently nodded. "Another example. Most of you have met Glory Girl, correct?"
The Wards mostly nodded, save for Olive.
"Her body is surrounded by layered force fields," Katagiri noted. "Thus, her brute rating. But, her force fields are also the source of her strength and flight!"
"They are?" Olive asked. "I thought she was an Alexandria package."
"She is," Katagiri confirmed. "But how does Alexandria's power function?" He glanced around and none of us answered. "It's a stasis field, of sorts. She was one of the first brutes subjected to serious mechanical testing by researchers and the surprise discovery of that was that she's not super strong at all. She can bench press a locomotive despite a modest physique because where as other people might seriously hurt or strain themselves trying, her body stays in its exact physical state. It's why she never gets hurt, and why we think she is immune to master effects. How that translates to flight is still something of a mystery."
"Powers are bullshit," Lafter mumbled.
"Exactly!"
Lafter looked surprised by his exclamation.
"It's a meme on PHO, but it's quite literally true. Pardon the language, but powers are bullshit and just because we classify them doesn't mean we understand them. While the PRT uses the classification system for pragmatic reasons, I think it's important as capes yourselves to understand how arbitrary that system is."
"Why not come up with a less arbitrary system?" Missy asked.
"Because powers are bullshit," Jet Steel said. Like Lafter, I think he meant it jokingly.
"Indeed." Katagiri smiled. "As I said, a power does not wake up in the morning and decide to be a 'brute'. We classify it as a brute based on what we observe about it. We're still very early into serious academic research of powers. Non-PRT personnel didn't even get much access to capes before Hero pushed for it a few years ago. But that is a useful question Ms. Biron. Maybe by the end of this we'll have some ideas for a more accurate system!"
"Is this how all school is?" Lafter asked in a low voice.
"Good school," I replied.
Class went on, much like last time. Lafter seemed a bit like a fish out of water, but she talked. Asked questions. Laughed at Alec's jokes. Somehow. I suppose someone needed to find his quips funny.
She didn't take notes, but I guess that was fine.
Despite her cynicism, Lafter liked people. She mocked Dinah's talk of going to school, but she'd do well there. Like a less evil and much friendlier version of Emma. Hopefully one who was less pushy than Vicky. I doubted she'd care much for the learning, but she'd like being able to talk and laugh. I'd broach the topic of getting her into Arcadia later. It would give her the room she needed to make her own life, and to make a tomorrow where she could pick what she wanted instead of tagging around with me for forever.
I'd find something more 'fun' for us to do at some point. Work my way through the identity obstacle. Less work and more play. Get myself back into the swing of actually having friends. For now, this was something I could do for her that could make her life better.
"That is why Newtype has multiple sub-ratings?" she asked.
Katagiri nodded. "Tinkers more than anyone play hell with the threat rating system, often accumulating a list of additional categories based on their tinkering."
"She does not have a master rating."
That got some looks sent Green's way, including one from me.
"No, she doesn't," Katagiri. "To be sure, the invention of her robots"—he pointed at Green—"and her use of them could qualify her as a master, but there we run into what I like to call politics are bullshit."
"I see," Veda said.
"There is an extremely negative reaction associated with Masters," Katagiri pointed out. "And it doesn't help that PHO has become very talented in sussing out threat ratings for capes even when the PRT tries to keep them confidential. Newtype doesn't have a master rating, because she's a hero."
I blinked. "Because I'm a hero?"
"I don't mean to besmirch you of course." He turned to Alec, saying, "Master's are almost universally seen as villainous by default. They have to work hard to shake that conception. Some, like Canary, take extreme care to be friendly and police themselves to be sure they won't hurt anyone even by accident. Others, the PRT simply doesn't classify as such to avoid the stereotype. An example would be Parian."
"She is classified as a shaker," Veda said, "but she makes minions with her power?"
"And they've been observed to be quite durable and hard hitting if she wants them to be," Katagiri pointed out. "But she's a sweet girl and a rogue. The PRT dodges sticking the label on her for the sake of fairness."
"Because power categories are arbitrary," Veda finished.
Katagiri nodded. "Another facet of the topic at hand."
"Would that habit not worsen the problem?" Veda asked.
I blinked.
"Yeah wait a minute!" Olive sat up. "I'm a brute-shaker, but I make minions too. If the PRT only classifies people like Canary as a master, doesn't that make it harder? That's what Heartbreaker and Valefor are!"
Huh. I never thought of it like that. By trying to politely not apply a negative connotation, the PRT inadvertently narrowed the category. The negative perception was enhanced, leaving the capes who couldn't be classified in other ways stranded in a category with some real bastards for company.
"That does not seem fair," Veda stated.
"It's not!" Olive repeated. No one else spoke, but I saw Lily and Missy seemingly agreeing.
"A common pitfall of arbitrary systems," Katagiri said.
I glanced down at Green.
Maybe this will be good for Veda too.
We were maybe forty minutes into the class when the door opened. A man in a suit walked into the room quietly and waved to Katagiri. He kept talking with Lily and Olive as they 'debated' whether or not striker/changer was an appropriate way of classifying some cape named Vantage. Olive brought him up as an example. Someone from Chicago I guessed.
The man walked over to Weld and whispered something.
And Weld looked like he would have gone pale if he weren't made of metal.
I blinked and watched the man beat a hasty retreat from the room. Weld caught my gaze afterward but didn't say anything.
My phone vibrated.
I pulled it from my pocket and clicked the link Veda sent me. My eyes widened and I turned them on Weld. He shook his head and pointed to the door.
We both got up, drawing attention from the rest of the room.
"We'll be right back," Weld said with a good attempt at a strong smile. "Just a technical thing."
We left the room and Weld closed the door.
I turned my phone toward him.
Palanquin ablaze.
"What happened?" I asked. "StarGazer only knows what's hitting the news right now."
Weld shook his head. "I didn't know about the attack, but that explains what Ben told me." The PRT guy I guessed.
"What did he tell you?" I asked.
I skimmed through the article. The report was fresh, only a few minutes old. A fire at the Palanquin, the nightclub where Faultline and her team of not-quite-legal mercenaries lived. And someone interrupted a class to tell Weld something. Only Weld.
My free hand tightened.
"It's worse than a fire, isn't it?"
Weld frowned.
"Yeah. Newter and Gregor are hurt, and Faultline is unconscious. Prism and Dauntless only just got there. I don't know about Spitfire, Ben didn't say…"
"But?" I asked, my heart sinking into my stomach.
"They can't find Labyrinth."
