A Waken 12.4
"Just assemble the components as they come out of the printer."
Veda shut off the monitor.
"The Haros can handle it," she said.
"I've assembled the frame." My eyes turned to another monitor and that monitor promptly turned off. "We'll ignore armor and weapons for now and just focus on getting the core parts working right."
"That course is sound."
I watched as all the monitors cut off.
"You know this is my workshop?" I asked.
"I am aware. If you do not leave now, you will get no sleep and be tired at school."
I turned back to the tables and reached for my soldering iron.
"Just let me—"
Before my fingers touched it, Orange flew from the side, grabbed it, and rolled away.
"Orange!"
"Serpentine! Serpentine!"
"This is a coup!"
"Viva la revolution," Green chirped, "Viva la revolution!"
"You should get some sleep," Veda reiterated. "You have school in the morning and most of the work is in the printers right now."
…
The fuck was I thinking?
I climbed into Exia for the trip home. I'd pushed things to four in the morning. With a quick trip back I could get some sleep before showering, eating, and going to school.
Then I could leave school and get back to work.
My hold on Exia's controls felt weak. Good thing I was accustomed to going without sleep still. I didn't have to for long.
I did need sleep. Easy not to notice how tired you are while tinkering.
I think Veda liked seeing me go to school. Or maybe, she liked seeing me do something other than tinker and plan to fight villains. Dad liked it to.
They were happy with me living something closer to normal.
That did make me feel happier too, I think. Despite my desire, I'd failed to really get things right with Dad. Seeing Veda cared always made me feel better.
Maybe there's something to be said about doing something because it made other people happy. I didn't really know if I was miserable with it or just uncomfortable. And that's just another self-justification, isn't it?
I'm too tired for this.
I got into the house and got some sleep. Not enough, but enough that I wasn't bumping into the walls getting to the bathroom for a shower. Or while eating another of Pink's breakfasts.
"You got in late," Dad noted.
"Got caught up in something."
I checked on the project with my phone. Veda and the Haros didn't need sleep. They continued the work in my absence and the Tieren's frame was half assembled back in the workshop corner.
Barely a week and a half and I already want to skip.
Rationalizing to myself, the frame would keep being assembled for the next few hours. I couldn't do much with it at the moment anyway. Taylor Hebert might as well get to work while Newtype waited.
Not that I knew exactly what Taylor Hebert needed to do.
My Arcadia problem. Not really an Arcadia problem, really. More of a world problem. The school's divisions weren't any different from the city's in a lot of ways.
It couldn't stay that way.
The solar array would be a massive project. Tens of millions of workers. Tons of materials. If we remained divided as we were, it wouldn't work. Worse, it might become a new place for lines to continue dividing people.
Nothing would really change. We'd just take all our old problems somewhere new. Easy to recognize but how the fuck do I fix it?
I knew Newtype couldn't do it. A cape—and only a cape—could never cross the line. She'd always stand apart. I'd planned on rebuilding Taylor from the start. Emerging at some point to do the things Newtype couldn't do.
But everyone knew Taylor Hebert was Newtype.
Kind of a hitch in the whole scheme.
"I'm going to head to the workshop after lunch," I told him as Dad pulled up to Arcadia to drop me off. "Finish what I was working on."
"Don't pull another all-nighter. You do need to sleep."
"If it makes you feel better, Veda and the Haros went rogue on me and made me go home."
Dad turned his head as I opened the passenger side door.
"They did?"
"Yup." I stepped out and closed the door. "Bunch of traitors."
Dad looked at me with a solemn smile through the open window.
"Well, at least someone can convince you to do something for your own good."
He drove off. Not in a rush but because me standing there staring was awkward for both of us.
Speaking of things that aren't simple.
I made my way to my first class.
After the running on Monday and lots of sit-ups, push-ups, and pull-ups Tuesday, we were mostly done with the Presidential Fitness stuff. Coach Zabi said we'd do the round halfway through the semester and again at the end. He wanted to see everyone improve and that would be an A.
Easy A. I never appreciated PE at Winslow. I avoided it to stay away from Sophia.
Now I kind of wanted to play Dodgeball. With Lafter on one team and Bigot 1 on the other. That would be a game of Dodgeball worth playing.
"No dodgeball," Coach Zabi said.
Ah, disappointment. We meet again.
A few groans echoed around me.
At my side, Lafter leaned over and asked, "Is that my fault?"
"Maybe," I whispered back.
"None of that groaning!" Coach Zabi snapped loudly. "This is physical education, not physical playtime!" He paused. "Though you will do a lot of playing. We'll be starting each day with a mile."
A few groans surrounded me. Again.
"All of you should be able to do that in four to seven minutes. From there, I'm happy to let you all pick your activities as a group but they will be group decisions. If you can't make up your minds yourselves then I'll be making the choice for you. Now. Start running!"
We started running.
I wasn't accused of cheating at least. Though I did get glares from certain people as I lapped them. I ignored their gazes and just focused on setting an even pace.
"Hey."
I turned my head. It was one of the track kids. Think I heard someone call her Miria. She'd been in front of me moments before, but had slowed down to let me catch up.
"Hi?"
"Do you play basketball?" she asked.
"No."
"Really?" She looked me up and down. "You're so tall."
"I guess. Why are you asking?"
"Because we're setting up a basketball game after this and we need ten."
Wait— "Are you asking me to be on your team?"
She gave me a confused look. "Yes? Do you know the rules?"
Um. "Throw the ball into the hoop?"
"Good enough."
She picked up her pace and ran ahead, catching back up with the other girl from the track team whose name I didn't know.
I kept running, trying to figure out what just happened.
Someone just asked me to be on their team. That never happened to me. Ever. Not even before the bullying. Then again, I'd never been particularly fit before.
When I finished my mile, Miria and the other track girl were waiting.
The other girl asked, "Do you know how to dribble?"
"I know what it is. Why—"
Miria jumped in. "Do you know what a center is?"
"Someone in the center?"
"Just stay close to the ball and the net," Miria explained. "You're tall and your arms are long. If someone tries to shoot the ball, knock it aside. If they miss and it bounces back catch it and pass it to one of us. If you get the chance knock the ball away. Just don't tackle anyone or anything."
"You're serious?"
"Why wouldn't we be?"
They were serious.
As others finished their mile, some started gathering by us. A few I already knew. They glared at me or pretended I wasn't there.
"Do we have ten?" one asked.
"I asked Taylor," Miria replied. The girl—I didn't know her name—didn't look at me but her shoulder's tensed. Miria either didn't notice or didn't care. "She's never played basketball before."
"Wait, really?" someone else asked. She didn't glare at me, but she did avoid being near me. Like I might explode or something. "You've never played basketball?"
"I was more of a reader," I admitted.
"Of what?"
"Victorian and Gothic." I looked around, noticing everyone—most of them strangers—was looking at me in one way or another. They felt close, even the ones standing ten feet away. "Wuthering Heights. Jane Eyre. Frankenstein."
And now I feel self-conscious about my reading choices.
Turns out being a celebrity and talking to people is as awkward as being people and talking to a celebrity.
"Classic stuff," I offered. "My mom was an English teacher."
Miria waved someone down as I'd given my answer, and shouted, "Okay that's ten! Let's go."
The group started moving and after a brief moment I followed.
It felt too normal in a way.
For most of the first week—and up until now, really—people tended to either stare or ignore me. Few tried to talk to me save the people I already knew. It seemed like a sudden coin flip in a way. From nothing to 'oh hi, do you want to play Basketball with us'?
The ball started moving before I knew anyone was starting.
Miria pointed at it and told me to try and stay in front of the ball whenever the other team had it.
I tried at first.
Didn't help that the people who seemed annoyed by my presence all joined up on the other team. Bridget—people on the other team kept calling her name—crowded me. If I moved away, she moved forward. And she looked at me with a look that reminded me of Sophia.
Like an animal that smelled weakness.
Fuck.
Apparently, 'center' was very literal. I was supposed to be near the ball. I was always surrounded and I felt a familiar feeling of being unable to move.
The game provided a perfect chance for someone to try and hurt me. Hit me with the ball. Shove me with a shoulder. Trample me under foot. I opened myself up to it.
My mind and experience immediately jumped to questioning if Miria set me up. That's what Emma would do.
"Taylor."
I flinched as she came up beside me.
"Just take the ball," she said with a smile. "Reach in there and grab it. Then bounce it to me."
Was that a set up?
What am I doing?
I hated feeling this way again. Remembering all the times the Trio ruined my life. Made me feel small. Fuck feeling small.
If they wanted to fuck with me, let them.
Bridget moved the ball toward me, again. Except I didn't back up. Newtype didn't back up, and for all the confusion between the two in my mind, Newtype and Taylor Hebert were the same person.
They had to be the same person.
I stepped into Bridget and reached out. My fingers scrapped over the ball. I didn't grab it.
I did knock it from her hands mid-dribble.
Miria came up from behind Bridget and caught the ball.
Bridget snarled and turned, but the ball was already going over her head.
Max—not Anders—caught it and moved two steps before bouncing the ball to someone else.
"Like that," Miria affirmed.
Huh
Turns out being tall and thin does have a use.
I was the second tallest girl in the class. The tallest was Miria's friend and on my team. Once I started knocking the ball away, no one really seemed able to stop me.
Not that I always did it well. A few times the ball just went to another member of the other team. I kept at it though.
No one stabbed me in the back. Felt ashamed at how relieving that was. Especially after someone tried to stab me in the front.
A boy on the other team threw the ball at my face and almost hit me. I could handle stabs from the front though. I saw it coming and ducked.
"Hey!" Max shouted.
"My hand slipped," the asshole said, smugly.
"Bullshit!" Max snapped. "You—"
"Problem?"
Max froze and everyone turned. Coach Zabi loomed behind him.
When did he get there?
"It's nothing," I said, before Max could mumble out a response.
The coach gave me a skeptical look but I held my ground. Max looked like he wanted to say something but Miria shook her head at him.
After a brief awkward silence the game started back up. Coach Zabi lingered for a time but eventually stalked off. Having a teacher step in and defend me constantly wouldn't help.
The game didn't go on much longer.
The last point was scored after I grabbed the ball from Bridget for the dozenth time. It went to someone else on her team, but I kind of just made it my mission to bat it away as much as I could. I moved toward the new ball carrier, and when they tried to bounce it past me I slammed it into the ground.
The ball hit the floor and Max took it. He turned on his heel and threw the ball into the air.
"Ha! Net!"
He didn't get the ball in the net.
Tracy catch the rebound off the rim and she threw it back.
"Next time, Max," Miria promised.
She patted his back right as Coach Zabi called for everyone to get themselves ready for the bell.
Miria turned to me. "Worth it to see Bridget get smacked around."
"All I did was hit the ball randomly."
"It's good enough. We'll teach you how to dribble next time."
I felt dumb for thinking she was setting me up. Most people weren't Emma. They didn't know how to screw with me like she did.
As I moved to the locker room, Lafter pulled up alongside me.
"Did you win?" she asked.
"I didn't really keep track," I replied. "What did you do?"
"Not much. Kind of worried baseball or soccer or basketball would become a disaster."
"Just be on the team opposite the assholes."
Bridget gave me the stink eye as she rushed past, turning her head to keep giving it to me as she pushed the door open. I forced myself to relax and suppressed my paranoia. Most people weren't Emma. They didn't dedicate themselves to ruining my life.
Then again, I wasn't sure where Bridget fell in that mix. She didn't have any personal relationship to me. None of the people who glared at me did.
They just hated me.
How do you deal with people who hate you?
Dad loved me and I still didn't know how to deal with him. Beating them up didn't seem like a viable option. They weren't criminals or monsters. Just assholes.
The question continued to occupy my thoughts into math. Sutherland didn't cause any trouble for me. He targeted someone else.
"This is why it's important to come forward with questions," he pandered. "We went over integrals on the first day. I don't expect you to be able to solve them yet but you should at least understand the basic idea."
I scowled.
Mostly, I couldn't tell what was an act and what wasn't with Sutherland. He never went out and just insulted someone. No, he played favorites and demeaned some students in front of the whole class.
Mary seemed aware of what was happening.
She lowered her hand and avoided looking Sutherland in the eye. All she wanted was to understand the notation. Math twisted people up enough when it was algebra. Calculus added a whole bunch of new symbols and Sutherland explained none of them.
"We're going to have our first quiz soon," Sutherland said. "And I'm worried some of the class isn't quite getting the material."
He turned and started writing on the smart board.
"So, we'll be having some extra homework, just to make sure we're covering our bases."
Mary paled slightly. Heads turned her way, mostly the BC crowd and the 'favorites'. Sutherland singled her out. Then he blamed her for everyone getting extra homework.
I almost snapped my mechanical pencil between my fingers.
"Yeah, that sounds about right." Vicky sighed when I asked her about it. "Amy had his algebra class freshman year. She told me to avoid him at all costs."
"I'll keep it in mind," Weld whispered on my other side.
"Did Amy tell anyone?" I asked.
"Of course she did," Vicky answered. "But you saw it. Sutherland's low key. He never does anything that he can't play off as 'natural'."
Weld and I both stared.
"Pun intended," she added.
Winslow isn't the only place in the world with shitty teachers. Just turns out it was home to the shitty ones who couldn't hide it.
What exactly did I plan to do about it?
If I wasn't at Arcadia to make a difference, why was I? That was the plan. Taylor Hebert, stepping up and changing something. Be the person she wished and screamed for everyone else to be and without her suits or her team.
Most people didn't have those things.
I doubted I'd be nearly as successful as I was without them.
I needed to set a different kind of example, right?
Did I go to Badgiruel? If I did, would anything happen? I knew plenty about evidence. If I went running without any I'd get nothing. Sutherland did play it smart too. He didn't do anything obviously wrong.
If I reported him he'd play it off as me being unreasonable or damaged. Anyone who knew my background might believe it. The poor bullied girl reacting to a teacher she didn't like.
A recording? Of what? Sutherland teaching a class badly?
Blackwell would fucking laugh but she was right. I needed proof of something to get anything done. I couldn't make the same mistake as before. I couldn't lay down and accept it. I needed to do something productive.
Like finish the Tieren prototype.
I knew how to do that.
"Welcome to the shit show," Vicky mumbled as English ended. "I'm not gonna say it's worse than Winslow, but I'm guessing it's not as amazing as advertised."
"Understatement," I mumbled.
"Winslow?" Weld asked.
"Another high school," Vicky said.
"Yeah, the one that had that incident last spring. I saw it on the news. I mean—"
"It's where I went to school before Arcadia."
Weld didn't offer an immediate response.
And there's that question again. Would he figure it out? Newtype and Taylor Hebert, same person as the girl in the locker. Not exactly a great mix with the image I'd been building for myself.
Just coming up with all the answers today, huh Taylor?
"We'll have our first round table on Firday," Mr. McCrae said. "Be sure to read through the first five chapters. Should only take an hour or two."
I closed my notebook.
I'd spent most of the class doodling armor configurations for the Tieren. Veda already had something but the thing remained on my mind so I kept tinkering out ideas in the back of my head.
Starting to think I use tinkering to avoid my personal problems.
"See you later," Weld said with a wave.
"Yup." Vicky floated out of her seat gracefully and lingered. "Hey, Taylor."
"What?" I asked as I rose from my seat.
"Um." She avoided looking me in the eye. "You eat outside, right? During lunch?"
"Yeah."
"That's nice. Maybe I'll join you. Things can get a little loud in the cafeteria."
Vicky looked away. Guilty. My stomach twisted up, a half dozen possibilities rushing into my mind and I didn't want to deal with them. Not at the moment.
"I'm probably going to eat at the workshop today," I admitted. "I started something last night and then StarGazer and the Haros kicked me out. I really want to finish it."
Then Vicky looked me in the eye. "Oh. Right. Busy tinker stuff." She floated forward and past me. "Another time then."
I watched her go and breathed a sigh of relief.
What is it with people not coming out and saying whatever it is they obviously want to talk about?
"Were you guys talking about Sutherland?"
"Yeah," I said, turning to face Dean.
He frowned. "What's he doing?"
I started walking and Dean followed. I told him what I'd seen of the man the past week and a half. Hadn't thought of that. I knew someone decent in Blue Cosmos. Someone who would be angry at a teacher abusing his students subtly and casually.
"I'd heard his classes could be weird," he mumbled, "but I didn't know it was like that."
"Really?"
He shook his head. "Easy to overlook things when you don't want to think about them."
I raised my brow. "Can you do anything?"
"I don't know."
Figured.
I continued onto Anatomy, eager to get my last class out of the way so I could get back to the Workshop.
If only it were that easy.
"Hey," Chris said.
"Hey."
Fuck.
I waited till we got our lab assignments. We couldn't talk, but notes should work.
Armsmaster did tests on your reactor.
I wrote it on a piece of scrap paper.
No one would be able to see it, though they might notice the tension on my face. I'd been so shocked I ran off and got to work. Didn't really spend much time on the questions. How long has Armsmaster known the reactor had a working theory behind it? Why hadn't he said anything before?
Chris wrote his response on the corner of a notebook page.
Was there something wrong with it?
No.
I hesitated for a moment, but I…felt that twisting in my gut again.
I really did feel guilty, didn't I? I'd already betrayed him by lying once and I didn't want to do it again.
It can be built without tinker-tech.
I didn't look so I didn't know how he reacted to that. Chris didn't write anything for awhile. Trevor gave me a quizzical glance but I shook my head toward him.
Ok.
Ok?
I glanced to his face. He seemed contemplative. He poked the end of his pencil into his cheek, staring at the note I'd written. Trevor shifted beside me. Picked up that something was up.
Aren't you angry?
I tapped the page.
Why?
He's known for months. He didn't say anything.
I just brought him the schematic last night.
And he told me as soon as you left.
Chris paused.
I quickly wrote the question.
How did he figure it out? When?
Chris frowned.
I didn't ask the immediate follow up question.
Why would he keep it a secret?
I worked with the Foundation to start an energy revolution in the GN Drives. The solar array would take decades to construct. Maybe a century. Necessary materials didn't exist outside the hands of tinkers.
I'd never live to see it, even if I died of old age. It would take a century to come to fruition, maybe more. Working cold fusion? That was an energy revolution right now.
Chris eventually wrote a response and gave me an even look.
What happens in Middle East when this gets out?
I raised my brow.
He wrote again.
I get it. It's weird and Armsmaster is kind of a jerk. But maybe he has a good reason? Did you ask him about it?
No. There was no good reason for hiding that for months. Maybe less bad reasons, but no good reasons.
Do you want to talk about it? Writing it down is kind of weird.
I shook my head no.
"Something wrong?" Trevor whispered.
"Just trying to figure out this part," Chris said, pointing somewhere on our worksheet.
Trevor looked between us. I shook my head again. I slipped the paper I'd written on away. Chris did the same.
I didn't ask.
Thinking back, when Chris and I worked on the reactor Armsmaster still hated my guts and I hated his. Things were different now. We didn't like each other but we didn't hate each other either.
Dragon took precedence over that stuff and in the wake of helping her everything else fell to the wayside.
And I didn't ask Armsmaster. I rushed off to start the project in my shock and excitement. Only thought about how he must have known for months later.
Thinking about it gave me another idea for the arrangement of electronic components in the fixed head that would save space. And another for how to mount non-tinker-tech weapons.
And I'm tinkering to avoid dealing with something. Again.
I avoided my locker. Still didn't want to see Gladly. I could only handle so much at once.
Figured I should talk to Armsmaster. He'd probably be awake and working on something. If I called him I could work and talk at the same time.
Get an answer, rather than assuming one.
I left Arcadia and started walking down the street.
The Haros watching the school would split up. A few would stay to watch Lafter, Trevor, and Charlotte. At least one would follow me.
I couldn't discount the possibility of being attacked in the open now but at least I was well equipped to handle it.
A block down from the school I turned into a parking garage. I rode the elevator to the top and when I got out Exia was already being lifted out of my van. I kept the suit nearby and Kyrios too.
If anyone attacked us at school the Wards were there, but I wanted suits as close as possible.
I checked on the project as I climbed into Exia and closed the chest around me.
"Did I miss anything?" I asked.
"The Tieren is progressing," Veda replied. "Most of the primary frame is assembled."
Good. I could get straight to work.
I lifted off the roof and into the sky.
My eye noticed the shimmer.
Or not.
It stretched from one roof to the next moving away from Arcadia Middle School.
I zoomed in on the shimmer.
"I might be delayed."
Exia turned at my command and followed the shaker effect. It stretched across another street as I got close. She noticed me and turned, raising one hand as I grew close.
"Newtype," she greeted. Is she thickening her voice? "Hi."
"Hi…"
She wore a costume, but not her normal one. It looked thrown together. Well thrown together, but thrown together. Not professional at all.
Army surplus was my first thought. Everything was black or green camo. Cargo pants and boots, a harness with lots of pockets and straps over a hoodie. She wore gloves with open fingers and hid her hair under a hood. Add the bandanna she wore Miss Militia style, and only her eyes were visible.
"Fancy meeting you here," she said.
"Fancy." Is she trying to pretend she's not her? "Shouldn't you be in school?"
"Um. Shouldn't you?"
"Half-days."
"Me too."
Still?
"Do you…Okay"—her voice hitched—"I'm going to stop. This isn't working."
"Not particularly," I agreed.
I checked all my cameras to be sure no one saw us. My suit might draw attention but Missy's power would be harder to notice from street level.
And I'd feel guilty if I didn't ask. Didn't need more of that.
I landed Exia and took a knee. Once I'd gotten out of my suit, I waved Green off from landing next to me. Someone needed to watch surrounding buildings, just in case.
I turned to the girl and asked, "What are you doing, Missy?"
She sighed and pulled the bandanna from her face.
"Patrolling." She pushed herself atop a vent running the length of the roof and sighed. "Trying to, anyway. Dauntless doesn't work mid-day so…"
No one from the Protectorate would see her running on rooftops.
"Please don't tell anyone you saw me," she pleaded. "They'll figure it out without you."
"And what are they going to figure out?" I asked.
She didn't answer me at first. It's not like I wanted to rat on her or anything. After what the PRT and the Protectorate let happen, I wasn't surprised to hear Vista was taking a break. Didn't surprise me she'd thrown her own costume together and decided to go off on her own either.
Miss Militia did say something once about her, that she didn't see herself doing anything else.
"Is this because of what happened?" I asked.
"No," she answered. "No and everyone will think it is and that's why you can't tell them."
"Then what is it about?"
"I just want to see it for myself."
"See what?"
She nodded toward the roof edge, and the city beyond.
"That. I want to see what it's really like. No hand holding. No one telling me what routes are safe. No one saying I'm too young to know what's going on."
She frowned.
"I don't know what's going on. No one ever let me learn."
I raised my brow.
That made sense. Of a sort. I did have plenty of thought out reasons for not joining the Wards and being constantly managed was one of them. The Wards were too micromanaged for them to ever do much of anything.
Unless someone let some villains attack them that is.
Go me.
"It's not like there's any villains anymore," Missy said. "I'm not dumb enough to go after Bakuda on my own."
"You want to go after muggers and petty dealers growing weed in their closets?"
"That's what it's like now, isn't it?" She looked back to the city. "For people just trying to live their lives?"
Suppose I didn't much see the point…And fuck I didn't see the point. Someone getting mugged at gun point by a junkie shaking for their next fix would care. Someone burying their parent or child who OD'd would care.
People are the only thing that should matter.
"You want to do that?" I asked. "Just patrol and chase petty crime?"
She shrugged. "For now."
"Are you leaving the Wards?"
"I don't know." I didn't get more than that, but the look on her face said she really didn't know. "I want to find out what being a hero is for myself. For now. I'll decide the other stuff later. After I know what I want."
I sighed. "I won't tell anyone, except for one person. Ramius."
Missy flinched. "But—"
"A Ward going off on her own in a new costume and going by another name? That's a sensitive matter. Really sensitive. She can't take that to anyone but someone at the top."
And the PRT right now didn't have a director. Murrue said they might not have a replacement for another few weeks.
"Get it?" I asked.
"Um, yeah."
"I'll give Dinah a phone to give you," I proposed. "She can slip it into your locker at school. If you run into trouble—and by trouble I mean anything that looks like it could put you in the hospital—call Ramius and then call me. Alright?"
"Yeah. Okay."
"At the very least some Haros can show up." Felt a bit hypocritical thinking that. Who was I to decide someone was in over their head? "What name are you going to use?"
"Haven't really decided." She got up from her seat and tied the bandanna back around her face. "I've kind of been leaning toward Warp."
Warp?
"Why that?" Did Missy remember something?
She shrugged. "Because I warp space. Not very creative, I know."
"It's fine. I'll make sure you get that phone. And don't get put in the hospital, please. I don't want to feel terrible for not going straight to Armsmaster or Miss Militia."
"I won't. And thanks for not going to Armsmaster or Miss Militia the moment you saw me."
"I get it. I was trying to decide what it meant to be a hero for awhile."
She turned to look at me.
"What did you decide?"
"A hero takes responsibility," I said, "and acts." Lives with the consequences.
She'd be okay, for now. There weren't any villains around and Dinah didn't predict the arrival of the Red Hands, Adepts, or Travelers until after Behemoth's attack. She'd be fine chasing petty street crime for now.
With someone handling that I wouldn't have to.
Win for her, win for me…Fuck I need to stop doing that.
Missy was thirteen. She shouldn't be running around without anyone watching her back, even if it was what she wanted. If she got ambushed or disabled in some way, that would be on me.
I climbed back into Exia and tasked a Haro with following Missy.
If something happened, I'd know about it.
Aisha could help too.
Missy started running, stretching the roof out to the next one and crossing over.
I called Ramius first thing on my way back to the factory.
"I see," she said after I'd explained. "You're right. It is sensitive, but I doubt 'there's no director around' will fly as an excuse if something happens."
"I'm handling it," I told her. "I have a Haro watching her and I'm going to ask Imp to keep an eye out. She'll be okay and if she's not I'll be there. Dragging her in and telling her not to do it isn't going to make things better."
"I know." Ramius sighed. "Can you get her to use routes?"
"Maybe. Why?"
"Because I can make sure members of the Protectorate, Wards, or PRT are nearby. Not close enough to see her, exactly, but close enough that if something happened they could help."
I nodded to myself. "I can work that." Maybe feed Missy information about small time crime from Veda and let Ramius know what I told her.
"Let Missy do what she needs to do, but with a safety net?"
"Yes."
"I can do that. What if she decides to leave the Wards?"
"Technically only her parents can do that, but that's a fraught area where Vista is concerned."
The PRT was already compelling Labyrinth to be a Ward. They'd probably do the same to Missy if push came to shove. Well, at least they'd have each other.
And maybe I could 'poach' Vista when she turned eighteen or I convinced her parents I could do better. A powerful shaker would always be handy.
Something to keep in mind.
The PRT wouldn't be my friend forever anyway.
I got back to the workshop and went straight back to work. The Foundation left me a few messages saying they'd sourced the Palladium I'd need. Helium wouldn't be too hard to get.
Figured we'd finish the frame first. We could run a power cord to it from the workshop to test things. Getting non-tinker-tech cold fusion up and running would take me a bit. I'd have to brush up on some stuff I knew I learned but hadn't thought about in awhile.
When you work with GN particles, other sources of energy start feeling a bit mundane.
Only problem was I couldn't find anything.
Literally.
"Orange. Where did you hide my tools!?"
Little traitors.
You don't mess with a tinker's tools.
I lost almost an hour waiting for the Haros to return everything from their hiding places. Only just got started when Kati came down the steps.
"Taylor?"
"What's up?" I asked, already working on fitting some electronics in place.
"Taylor. You need to check the news."
I stopped.
I didn't ask why. I already knew.
I reluctantly put my tools down and started back to the house. Dad already had the TV on when I entered the living room. Red and Pink sat around him.
My face was on the screen.
And so was Sophia's.
The caption at the bottom read, "Brutal Bullying Campaign Births Hero."
Flattering.
