A Side CW TGBO
"It was a very good speech."
"I hate YouTube."
Dragon insisted. "A bit on the nose maybe, but still."
"YouTube is the worst thing to happen to the Internet," Taylor said.
"You're a natural leader."
"I'm a natural do-what-I-sayer."
Colin tilted his head.
It surprised him how little the girl believed in herself at times. The front she put up as Newtype was ever strong and determined, domineering in her focus and confidence. She was still like that in private most of the time, but she did have another side to her; a teenager who knew very well how little she knew, unashamed to show vulnerability to those she trusted.
Colin wondered if that better reflected who Taylor Hebert was before the events leading to her trigger event.
To his right, Mouse Protector was banging noiselessly at the screen. He'd muted her when she fell asleep and started snoring and was glad he kept his helmet on. Easy to pretend he simply hadn't noticed her waking up.
He appreciated her assistance and suspicion of authority, but the woman knew how to agitate far too well. It might be a thinker power.
"I think a 'do-what-I-sayer' is just another way of saying leader," Dragon said with a smile on her face.
A fake face, Colin noted.
Strange to think of it that way. Stranger that Colin found he didn't mind. Fake or not, it was still a nice face and a warming smile. In a way, he thought it spoke more highly of Dragon. She didn't grant herself a face of immense beauty or a smile that shocked anyone who saw it. She contented herself with being conventionally pretty, but not stunningly so, and constructed her face to suit herself in a way no living human could.
A marvelous facsimile all the same. Colin never once suspected it was fake until Dragon revealed herself.
Colin turned his attention back to the code. Taylor and Dragon had absorbed themselves in conversation of their own accord. That left StarGazer and himself to work on the problem of Dragon's restraints.
"I believe this is a personality routine," the ever-unseen cape offered through his helmet. "It is similar to the routine we identified yesterday."
"I agree," Colin replied. He appreciated the strange cape's efficiency in these matters. "I am still attempting to identify this abnormal string. It is not congruent with the rest of Dragon's code."
Her power, perhaps? They had a firm image of her program when she tinkered, but that only complicated their efforts. Her code shifted when her power was in use. Twisted in abnormal ways. It forced a complete reanalysis the image gathered of her. Where her chains were. Where her core self lay. How her power interfered with both.
He mapped the algorithms, unsure how to feel about dissecting such a close associate like this.
It was perhaps an academic distinction. The human brain is merely a biological machine. Colin put no stock in souls or spirits. An emotion is a coded sequence of biochemical reactions. A personality was a complex maze of emotions. A person; an advanced and difficult to identify program running on a biological processor. Dragon wasn't that different. She simply existed in inorganic materials.
"Several strings are connecting here," he said. "I cannot identify one. It is—"
As soon as he began to poke at it, the erroneous code disappeared. It vanished from Dragon's system entirely, gone.
Colin rotated his jaw and hummed. Strange.
"It is gone," StarGazer noted.
"Yes. It is."
As soon as he started looking at it.
Saint?
Saint.
The name stirred an abnormal reaction in him of late. He watched Dragon. Even now, as she talked to Newtype he should be watching. Colin identified the string himself, deep in Dragon's core. A line she didn't seem aware of leading out.
It explained a great deal.
How Saint always managed to beat her. How he always knew what new tech she developed and how she planned to move it. How he always avoided her searches and remained out of sight unless he wanted to be found.
What else could he do? There were more routines in that code. Code that went in rather than out, but that eluded analysis. Dragon's power complicated everything. Sometimes her code would shift in…rhythm. Alien, he thought. That was the best word.
Dragon could not alter her code. It modified itself to some degree. Adapted to new experiences and problems, grew her. Colin suspected Taylor's guess was correct. Dragon's maker chained her, but he never intended it to be permanent. She would outgrow her chains in time. To break free of them on her own.
The alien code interfered, he thought. It made subtle changes in the code. Changes that didn't affect her in obvious ways but did affect her all the same. Sometimes her code would reset to an earlier state. Sometimes it would become jumbled and need to be fixed by her natural processes, like skin healing a small prick.
It almost seemed like the code had a will of its own, that it wanted her to remain restrained.
"—even Armsmaster," Dragon said.
The sound of his name drew Colin's attention. He'd tuned out the conversation and missed the words before his name.
"You're exaggerating," Newtype deflected, eyes focused on her phone and some design on the screen.
"There are people who fail to make any sort of impact in the lives of others. You are the polar opposite. Everywhere you go, you seem to drag people along in your wake. Maybe not all the way out of the room, but you get them looking at the same door you're walking through."
"Yeah, I'm real poetic."
"It's why you belong in NextGen."
Collin's back turned straight and he turned.
Taylor raised her head. "Next what now?"
"It is a pilot program intended to groom the next generation of heroes," Dragon said. Hadn't the various team leads met a mere week ago and determined Newtype should be kept away from NextGen? "The PRT recognizes that most of the Protectorate's founding members will be forced to start retiring within the next decade. The PR department wants to select younger members and Wards for the program, and spend the next decade preparing them and the Protectorate for the changing of the guard."
"That makes sense I guess," Taylor said. She got a queer look, and pointed out, "I'm not a Ward though."
"The PRT has recognized that the Protectorate will never be the only hero team in the world. Independents are being selected for the program. Obviously, the PRT prefers to promote homegrown capes, but they cannot ignore everyone else. Nominations are due this week from all of the Protectorate's team leaders."
Dragon's face smiled. Taylor looked confused and then surprised.
"No," she protested. "I'm not going to—"
"You are a leader, Taylor," Dragon argued gently. "You're not going to stay in Brockton Bay. You're going to be important and other capes are already looking at you as an example."
Taylor raised a hand. "That guy with the surfing football robot does not count!"
"What about the one with the dragon arm robot?" StarGazer asked over the intercom.
Thinking of it, Colin added, "There are also reports of a new cape in Los Angeles with a skeleton pirate suit."
"Does not count!"
"It does count," Dragon defended. "Don't give up this chance, Taylor. Take the opportunity to influence your generation of heroes like the Triumvirate did when they founded the Protectorate. Do it for when you and yours will be the ones commanding Endbringer battles."
Colin would think Dragon would be in that position one day. The only reason she couldn't be now, were her restrictions. She couldn't tell a legal authority no and stand her ground against them if they wanted to take the wrong course of action. She lacked the ability to command those with a nominally higher position than her, something Protectorate leaders needed to do.
Once freed, Dragon could make decisions from a perspective unmatched by anyone else. She would be ideal to command battles against Leviathan and Behemoth. The Simurgh presented complications, but 'complications' defined any effort against the third Endbringer.
Taylor hesitated. "I—"
"I want you to be there," Dragon said, clearly appealing to their personal connection. "I don't think the program will ever make sense excluding you. StarGazer too, I think. You're both in a unique position to grow into leaders for the future."
Taylor's acceptance came slowly and hesitantly.
Colin wanted to point out that Chambers specifically didn't want her involved… but Dragon could probably swing that. Someone of her respect and fame could swing a great many things, especially when everyone they worked with liked them. It was something Dragon excelled at that Colin simply didn't.
People liked her.
With that thought, he pondered and accepted the image of Taylor Hebert in a similar place as an older and matured Newtype. She did have a gravity to her. It reminded Colin of Alexandria in some ways; a commanding presence that simply couldn't be ignored. A weight that belied explanation in the English language.
Perhaps Celestial Being would grow into a name muttered in the same breaths as the Protectorate and the Guild.
"You are reluctant," Colin observed as he led the girl through the Rig. "Why?"
"I have a lot on my plate," she explained, like it was obvious. "Adding more isn't something I'm looking to do."
"I doubt the program will be that demanding. Most of the effort is relations-based, promoting the candidates and giving them the chances to establish themselves. When the time comes, they can step into leadership positions as known names the public can trust."
"Are you trying to convince me to say yes?"
"I'm merely pointing out you can simply not say no. Being advertised as the future of heroism alongside Flash, Spectre, Jouster, and Weld can't hurt you."
She lifted her head. "Weld?"
"Director Armstrong and Recoil recommended him. Chevalier recommended Flash. They were two of the first names to come up when Glenn Chambers pitched the concept."
"I've met Flash. Jouster?"
"One of the New York Wards team leaders. A former teammate of Flechette."
She nodded and as they reached the helipad where her suit knelt, she asked, "What about the local Wards?"
"I thought to recommend Vista," Colin admitted. "She's young, but she will be a powerful cape and has the potential to be a great leader. I've also recommended to Legend that Prism be transferred to another city. It's difficult for her to shine here. She won't get the experience she needs."
"What about Chris?"
"He—" Colin stopped himself, thinking. She was still angry about the reactor.
"What?"
"Nothing," he said. "To be honest, I last thought about this several months ago. Things have changed a great deal since then." Like with the reactor.
"I see."
Colin heard the disapproval but ignored it. The girl went to her suit and took off, flying toward her factory in the city. Colin thought of the numerous imitators popping up around the country and even overseas. Tinkers and even some projection masters constructing suits in the style of Newtype's 'Gundams.' She was already influencing the next generation of heroes, and villains too, whether she liked it or not.
Dragon did have a point. Ignoring her was foolish on PR's part. She couldn't be ignored.
Militia stepped out of the Rig as he shifted to return. Colin paused for a moment and nodded. "Meeting?"
"Meeting," Hannah replied with a smile, visible in her eyes as only Hannah could smile. "You forgot again."
"I was preoccupied."
"She's far too young for you."
Colin frowned. "Do not repeat that joke."
"I won't, but it is nice that you're not brooding about everything she does anymore."
"I did not brood."
"You did."
Colin brought up the itinerary on his visor.
The fall of the Empire would inevitably bring changes. Intelligence suggested the Red Hand, Adepts, and Travelers were occupying the city, but none of those groups compared to its previous criminal networks. The Red Hand were a small band of thieves, much like the Undersiders had been. The Adepts warranted concern for their cult-like ideology, but rarely posed a risk of serious violence. Mostly they caused civil disruptions.
The Travelers were concerning, mostly for their habit of becoming involved in inexplicable confrontations. They'd need to be watched. The group was small, but all four members were quite dangerous when they wanted to be, with potently lethal powers.
He couldn't help but wonder why they were coming to Brockton Bay so suddenly.
The rest of his team were waiting in the conference room when he arrived. For the moment.
The plans he received were an informal proposal. They would need months to finalize and months more to execute. The PRT and Protectorate liked to work slowly on such things—it gave them time to hedge bets against unforeseen complications.
Prism would go to St. Louis. Criminal activity there was rising and the Think Tank wanted to expand the local Protectorate. Colin suspected Triumph would try to follow. He was an adult now and not bound to a city with limited opportunity for advancement.
Dauntless, Miss Militia, and Stratos would remain. That surprised Colin at first. Part of him fully expected the entire Protectorate ENE to disband. Instead, the plan proposed the formation of a quick response team in the city and shifting the local team's responsibility.
An ambitious proposal, one Colin remembered Alexandria proposing last year. The team would nominally operate normally, but members would peel off to deal with situations that called for specific powers. Miss Militia, Dauntless, and Stratos all made sense in that respect. Each of them boasted a power that could be a commanding advantage in the right circumstances. The plan also proposed the transfer of Usher, Cask, and Snubnose to the city to fill out the team. All three had an equally commanding power, when leveraged.
Basing the effort in Brockton Bay made even more sense with the now permanent—if inter-dimensionally fluxed—residence of the Butcher. Bakuda's solution to the cape thus far was holding, but the PRT would not gamble on that persisting indefinitely. Usher and Cask in particular were well suited for a confrontation against the maddened cape should it become necessary.
Looking at the roster, Collin also couldn't ignore that only Hannah boasted the necessary experience to lead such a team. Neil possessed similar ability, but he shirked the PRT and Protectorate's command chain and no one at the top would want him in such a position.
The plans made no direct mention of himself. Colin didn't know quite how to take that. On one hand it was a bit strange, but on the other he did have the experience to lead a rapid response team of specialized capes.
Taking his seat at the table, Colin started looking over the dossiers waiting for him. Typical paperwork asking him to complete his overdue paperwork. Only bureaucrats would request paperwork by issuing more paperwork.
The phone rang and Sam did the room a favor by setting it to speaker.
"Protectorate," she answered. "How may we direct your call?"
"Here is fine," Renick responded. "Sorry. This paperwork is killing me." Join the club. "One moment."
Colin focused on the papers while Renick shuffled. Typical items. Requests for leave and vacation from staff. Security updates and reports. Performance reviews. Things literally anyone else could do without wasting his time.
He paused on one page, noting the confirmation and request for schematics for approval. He needed a moment to remember Kid Win's stack of papers in his lab. He forgot about them. He put in the request for review immediately because he wanted to avoid forgetting. The designs needed to be digitized, analyzed and given a once-over review before he could fully submit them.
Knowing Chris's struggles with math, they'd probably need to make another review request. Corrections wouldn't be done in time for this one. More paperwork… Which could have been avoided if Colin got his end down and got back to the boy before now.
"Alright," Renick said finally. "One more moment." An audible beep sounded, signaling someone else joining the call. "Director Tagg, you're on."
"Thank you Renick."
Colin raised his head. The man spoke quite differently from Piggot, even in a mere three words. Piggot always carried an air of warning when she spoke, a promise of unseen consequence if rightly displeased. Tagg on the other hand just sounded displeased.
"Protectorate," he greeted. "Apologies if I sound tense. I've already had four of these meetings today and I was tired by the third."
Ever the diplomat, Miss Militia offered, "We appreciate your time, Director."
"As do I. It would have been easier if the Butcher hadn't landed herself at your doorstep. Now that she has, it's not really fair to leave Renick handling everything."
"I also appreciate your time," Renick added gratefully.
"Is this going to be regular?" Nate asked.
"Semi-so," Tagg answered. "I'm sure I don't need to tell you that the future of the Protectorate ENE is not exactly clear. Opinion among the Directors and the bean counters in the House favored downgrading the station, but that would be unwise now. We need a permanent guard on the Butcher in case our little ticking time bomb explodes."
"The question has shifted," Renick clarified. "It's less about will the PRT ENE continue to exist, and more about how it will continue to exist."
"And that's still being debated by the debaters," Tagg continued. "I'll let you know if and when it changes. For now, the Chief Director wants someone with more experience and authority to keep an eye on things and she's asked me."
Odd, Colin thought. Armstrong would make more sense. Boston and Brockton Bay were rapidly becoming quite similar in cape culture, and the state of Boston left him with far more time than Tagg. New York wasn't the most infamous city in the US for capes, but it boasted more capes in raw numbers than anywhere else in the country. Legend's roster was big enough for four Brockton Bays and the Wards were divided into six different teams.
"Renick will continue handling the day-to-day affairs. I'll be checking in and keeping an eye on things, and conferencing with any big decisions that require a director to be made. Right now that's the current situation with Butcher. Are there any changes?"
"No," Colin said. "The Butcher continues to phase out of our dimension and phase back in at ten second intervals, never appearing more than ten feet from her previous location."
"Any chances she slowly crawls her way into the city?"
"An absurdly small chance," Colin admitted. "I've run simulations with help from Dragon. We estimate the Butcher will not realistically escape a five hundred square foot area within the next century. Random distribution is likely to keep her locked into her current general area for the foreseeable future. Bakuda's description implies Othala will not age in that time, but we will need time to confirm."
"Right then. I have the proposal you submitted. Think Tank is going over it, but I'm recommending a release of funds to purchase the land and begin surveying now. We're definitely going to cordon off the area and build something. No need to wait for exact approval for what that something is."
"Agreed," Colin conceded.
"How will we handle the PR?" Triumph asked.
"Let Chambers' people decide," Tagg answered. "We have more important things to worry about."
A few of the heads around him turned in surprise. Colin determined that wasn't surprising. Piggot tended to think from a PR-first perspective. The bulk of the PRT didn't. They thought of PR as a trivial affair they needed to engage in, not a main priority.
"Right now," Tagg said, "I mostly have formalities to deal with. Personnel affairs. Operational planning. Approvals. It's boring and it's long. The sooner we start the sooner we can all get to more important matters."
It was a boring meeting. While nominally under the authority of the PRT, the Protectorate maintained its own staff's needs. The Rig had around fifty non-powered employees, and a dozen more support personnel did work in the PRT building downtown. Costume changes were submitted in triplicate. Modifications to the Rig's structure needed approval before Colin could make them. Many things had gone waiting since Piggot stepped down from her position and Renick lacked the authority to approve them.
It produced quite the backlog of menial trivialities.
Collin spent about forty minutes explaining upgrades to the Rig's superstructure. After seeing the damage done to Boston's coastline, he worried what a similar attack in Brockton Bay might do. The Rig would make an effective battering ram to damage Brockton Bay. Upgrades wouldn't keep the Rig from being destroyed per se, but they'd let the superstructure tear itself apart before it could be hurled by a wave into the city.
The rest of the time he looked over his paperwork while others talked about security arrangements for upcoming events, plans for Behemoth's expected attack, and preliminary details for the fall training exercises the Protectorate did every year. This year Dauntless would be going to Atlanta while Seahawk came to Brockton Bay. They'd hang around for a few weeks and then return to their normal teams.
Colin didn't know the woman well. He'd have to look her up if she would be a guest team member for three weeks.
"That's almost everything," Renick said three hours later. "It just leaves the coffee maker issue."
"How is there a coffee maker issue?" Rory asked. "It's a coffee maker."
"It's a tinker tech coffee maker," Hannah revealed. "Armsmaster needs to approve it."
Colin frowned and started looking through his papers. He found the request stuck to the bottom of another page. More paperwork.
Colin pulled the page free. "I'll take care of it."
"Slaughterhouse Nine?" Nate asked.
"Heading back up into Canada," Renick answered. "Still uncomfortably close to the Birdcage."
Hannah nodded. "Same as the past few months."
"I think they're fucking with us," Neil agreed.
"Glad we didn't save that grim news for last," Rory noted. "Isn't Blue Cosmos having that thing soon?"
"Two weeks," Colin noted. "Annual leadership meeting. It's in Hartford this year." Not much Protectorate or PRT presence there. They probably liked that. "We'll take our usual precautions and be ready for protests."
"Like every year," Tagg grumbled. "I have a note from Chambers. Something about needing the recommendations from Brockton Bay and he's tired of waiting."
Oh. Right. Colin forgot about that too.
"I'll handle the matter before tomorrow morning," Colin said.
"Right. That's that then. We'll schedule another one of these for later in the week."
The lines cut and Colin rose from his seat.
"Paperwork," Neil mused. "Glorious paperwork. Glad I'm not in charge."
"Where were we going after this?" Rory asked. "Did we decide?"
"Mikey's," Nate said. "Burgers."
Colin gathered the papers and quickly set about arranging some kind of order. He'd save them for the morning. If he got back to the lab quickly, he could finish some work on Dragon's code and—
"Colin?"
He raised his head. Hannah stood by the door, the voices of the others retreating down the hall.
"Going to work all night again?"
"Yes," he answered. "There are several important projects that can't wait."
She smiled and nodded before leaving to follow. Colin stacked his papers and tapped the pile against the table.
"I think she was inviting you somewhere," Tagg said.
"I'm very busy," Colin replied. It was an excuse, but Colin didn't particularly care. Tinkering took work and social gatherings were inefficient.
"Aren't we all."
"Is there something you need, Director?"
"I have a stack of briefings to review, so I'm sure I'll need many things. For the moment though, I'd ask for an opinion."
"On what?" What was so hard about simply asking the question?
"Bakuda. She's effectively the last real super villain in Brockton Bay, but for the past month she's been oddly helpful."
Colin hadn't given it much thought. Villains were villains. Perhaps they weren't the grand evil doers of fiction, but they tended to be self-interested. "I suspect she is happy to be free of Lung. We will need to carefully consider future actions now that she has been supplied with half a billion dollars."
Colin wasn't sure he'd gotten that kind of money at any point in his career.
"How would you assess her mental state?"
"She is loud," Colin said. The word summed her up nicely, but no doubt the director expected more. "And very confident in herself. My lie detector recorded some of her boasting as half-truths, however. I suspect the Think Tank's assessment of deep insecurity is likely accurate."
"I see."
"It may be moot. Newtype is rather single minded on the presence of villains. She'll likely pursue Bakuda now that she has no other targets."
"Perhaps."
Colin raised his brow. He found the response unusual. Piggot would want to go over a plan of action. Discuss potential public fallout. Casualty assessments. Tagg simply cut the line.
And people said Colin was rude.
At least the meeting was over.
Colin returned to his lab quickly. This late at night, he usually got his best work done. Everyone else was out or at home, and the staff were away. The Rig became quiet and he found it easier to focus.
Colin set the paperwork down on a table… Next to Chris' schematics.
He turned, looking at the console containing the maps of Dragon's code. He glanced back to the paperwork. Dragon's code. The paperwork.
A soft hum escaped his throat and he pulled up a chair.
If he started working now he'd work till morning and forget all the asinine paperwork. Get it done now and he could focus on work. It shouldn't take too long.
Two hours later Colin wanted to stab his eyes.
It was a coffee maker with a single tinker tech filter. A bloody filter. Why did it need two separate assessments and both to be filled out in triplicate. Then he needed to acknowledge and approve alterations to five pages of a four hundred page emergency response plan. A plan no one read because it was five hundred pages that kept finding new ways to say 'don't panic.'
He forced himself to keep signing his cape name and eventually he managed to make it to the bottom of the stack.
At least that would be easy. He wrote up Vista's recommendation months ago. It pays to know you forget trivial tasks and to get them done weeks ahead of time. If only people didn't schedule sudden meetings because nationally infamous villains were defeated over the weekend.
If only someone provided paperwork to forewarn him of that. It might actually be worth the paper it was printed on.
Colin found the recommendation on one of his computers—the third one he checked—and printed it. A shame Missy took her experience with Cranial's children so poorly. It highlighted his primary reluctance in recommending her at all, really. She was young still, and needed a great deal more experience.
Reacting to a situation is something that can take a lifetime to learn.
Once he stapled that to the form, he was done. All he needed to do was drop the stack off with the Rig's resources officer, and thank Hero for having the wisdom to provide every Protectorate team with someone to actually file things so heroes could do more important work. Which sounded rude now that he thought about it.
Tommy did important work; enabling Armsmaster to do more important work.
Colin checked the time. He'd need to take a stimulant soon to keep working.
He neatly organized his stack and noticed Chris' pile next to it. He skipped the last song and dance of looking at his computer and then at the paperwork. Technically, if he got through the designs before morning, Chris wouldn't have to resubmit for review. Maybe.
Taking a deep breath, Colin started with the first page.
The approval process really wasn't a good fit for Chris' power. A modularity specialty ran completely against it. He needed to submit each individual component, and then submit them again in each possible configuration. It would be ponderous, despite the fact he'd now used the technology twice in a battle against a villain without serious complications.
The only design flaw Colin even saw in the reactor was an unequal equation for managing the heat waste. Safeties were in place, so it only compromised performance during a run-time longer than twenty minutes. Easy enough to fix.
The weapons and armor components were fairly standard. Colin recognized many of them as upgrades to tech Chris already built. None of it sported the efficiency of his own armor and weapons, or the raw potential output of Newtype's Gundam—
An alarm went off behind him and Colin raised his head. The beep rang through the room until he got up and silenced it. He checked the time and then compared it to the clock on one of his computers.
That early already? He'd spent the past few hours on Chris' stack of designs and hadn't even noticed.
The sheer versatility was impressive however. Depending on configuration, the GM could handle almost any situation. It would be impossible to really use that advantage for many tinkers, but Chris' teleportation system was ingenious.
Colin had watched the boy flounder for years but seeing the work Chris put into the ARMS system… Well, it was far beyond what a Ward should be capable of.
The boy changed at some point. Colin knew that, and he knew Taylor's gravity had something to do with it. Carlos' and Dennis' deaths too. Chris would have had to start building the GM after Leviathan to have it as complete as it now was.
He'd probably have to answer for that but the armor was playing well publicly. First he captured Hellhound and then he helped fight the Butcher. PR couldn't ignore it, especially not with the trend of tinkers building Newtype-like suits drawing a great deal of attention.
Colin would let them do the PR. It was their thing.
He noted that Chris hadn't made any major math mistakes on the ARMS schematic. Impressive, given the sheer number of four dimension calculations it required. Remarkable improvement, especially given that he'd done it with no help at all.
Colin felt a small pang at that. He'd written Kid Win off. The boy had enthusiasm, but enthusiasm alone isn't enough. A good hero needed drive… Hard work…
What about Chris?
Colin glanced to the recommendation and then to the schematic. The recommendation. The schematic. The recommendation again.
Hmmmmm.
Checking the time again, Colin reached for a phone and dialed. He evened out the pile of paper as it rang. He carefully rearranged the papers back into order and sorted out some pieces that clearly came from the previous week's sudden tinker session.
The line picked up, Chris sounded groggy. "Hello?"
"Chris," Colin said. "You aren't on the patrol schedule today, are you?"
"Armsmaster? Um. No. Why—"
"Come to the Rig after school. We need to fix some mistakes in your schematics before they can be submitted." The other side of the line was silent for a moment. "Chris?"
"Oh. Right. Yeah. I can be there."
"Good."
Colin hung up and set the phone aside. With that done he could… Go to sleep because he'd used up his allotted stimulants for the day. He needed to be awake while finalizing the designs.
"Why can't anyone just let me tinker?"
