A Waken 14.3

My hair was finally past my shoulders.

It wasn't much, but it was something. I swept my hair back with one hand and gone! The tips could not be seen past my shoulder. Victory.

The bathroom was pretty nice. The heated floor took me off guard. No dancing with my feet to avoid a chill after a hot shower. And the hot water heater clearly beat the one back home. I got to just stand under the spray and enjoy the pitter patter.

It's also as good a place as I'd find to conspire because Dragon would never peep.

I brought my hair forward and started wringing it out with a towel. "So Tattletale says?"

"I'm right here," the thinker said in the background.

"She says yes," Aisha confirmed.

"The PRT would see that coming," I muttered.

"Not with Teacher inside the Think Tank," Veda proposed. "He could easily point them the wrong way."

"The summer child is right," Tattletale called. "The big douche somewhere in the middle sea could easily point their eyes the wrong way so they don't see what the hands are doing."

I turned my head, fingers mid-run through my hair. "Middle sea?"

"Yeah, he's somewhere in the Mediterranean."

"How do you know that?" Veda asked.

"Because an Endbringer has paradoxically never attacked anywhere in the Mediterranean in the last eight years, and given the significance of Rome, Istanbul, and the Suez, that's just weird."

"He's not shitting where he eats?"

"Basically."

"And that's all you're running on?"

"I know you're used to knowing more than everyone around you, sweetie, but I'm around you now so you're gonna have to adjust your expectations."

This was weird. Working with Tattletale was weird. And fucking annoying.

We weren't going to find David today or this week, and even if we did we couldn't let him keep winning battles before the war began.

"Back to the point," I suggested. "Fine. Corrupt troopers. There's bound to be plenty around here. Which one do we want?"

"I'm working on it," Tattletale and Veda said at the same time.

Right. "Know what, let's find a corrupt trooper or two and set them up. An investigation will rule out they aren't actually up to anything but the possibility will rattle some trees. We'll make it an anonymous tip."

Lathering soap into my hair, I added, "StarGazer, can you slip into the local network and at least see what they're watching for?"

"Yes, though I will need some time to avoid Dragon's detection."

"And people say I'm the villain."

"You are the villain," I countered.

"Well, yeah. And somehow I'm not the one proposing we frame some troopers for something that isn't true just to rattle some trees."

"Whatever Teacher's planning is going to get people killed. If one corrupt trooper has a bad day in the course of trying to stop that, I'm not shedding a tear."

"You're using Johnson and Johnson then?"

I rolled my eyes.

"Take care of that, and I'll go play nice with the Wards for a few hours."

"Because that's important," Aisha mumbled. "A thought. Why don't we just tell the PRT that someone is going to do something sometime somewhere in three days?"

"The PRT already knows," I said. "Me telling them when all I know is that something will happen does nothing but risk revealing what we're doing."

"Are we sure they know?"

"We have no itinerary for the week," I pointed out. The PRT not having a neat and orderly event? Bullshit.

"But the movements around the city clearly indicate there is something in the works in the PRT and Protectorate," Tattletale revealed. "So technically, it would be more appropriate to say you have no official itinerary for the week."

"They're not that stupid. They have to know by now that Teacher is gunning for them and that doing nothing will end them. Nothing motivates a bureaucracy like existential threats."

"And," Tattletale chimed in, "Teacher can't possibly hide something big enough it would affect this many capes from so many cities. The white hats already know something is up. They're swimming in red tape and moral righteousness, they're not incompetent."

It was smart in a way.

No official plan for the event, no guide to how to blow it up. No one but the top of the PRT and Protectorate probably knew what was going to happen for the next five days. I had to assume Teacher knew about that though, and I needed to do something. The PRT's plan, whatever it was, wouldn't work.

Aisha sighed. "Okay, fine. Next jerkass question: why do we care what is going to happen to the Wards? I thought you were all ready to let the PRT burn."

"The PRT. Not the people in it." Beyond that, "If Teacher is trying to undo the Wards, he's doing it for a reason."

"He wants to break the big time heroes," Tattletale proposed. "He'll be flushed for recruits if he can bust up the largest cape organizations in the US."

"When they know he did it?" Aisha questioned.

"Teacher will probably reappear as Eidolon," I guessed. "The first one. The one who fought the Gold War and quit Cauldron because they didn't stop after saving the world."

It's what I'd do, if I were a completely amoral monster with no conscience.

"Agreed," Tattletale agreed. "We'd look insane trying to suggest he was Teacher. Even if we tried to prove it, he'll probably have his own way to discredit us in turn. We'd be fighting a war of words that at best goes fifty-fifty."

"And even if we can't save the Protectorate and the PRT, we can save the Wards. Keep them alive at least. Keep them in the fight when it all comes crashing down."

"Teacher wants them to give up," Tattletale stated.

She'd given this thought. We both had, I guessed. "He's set himself up so that he wins no matter how things turn out."

"Explain?" Aisha asked.

"He's set up a no-lose scenario." I threw my hair back and shook it out. "Through Blue Cosmos he can get into the government. As Eidolon, he'll be able to step in after the Protectorate comes crashing down."

"He'll be playing both sides against the other," Tattletale agreed. "He'll drive a war to force everyone into his path of evolution through conflict."

"That's stupid though," Aisha declared.

"We know."

Tattletale said it, and the way she said it made me wonder.

What's the real endgame here?

All these years of effort. All this death. Everything he knew.

The man used to be a hero.

Was world domination all he really wanted?

"I have to go make friends," I murmured, somewhat petulantly I admit. "Is the princess there?"

"Don't call her that," Tattletale chided. "She hates it, and no. She's doing what you're doing and has a meeting in an hour with some business types."

"Then I guess we'll talk tomorrow. Get some names. If we have names, Imp and StarGazer can start following them to see what comes up. We're not rolling in time."

"Busy, busy," Tattletale mused.

"The future doesn't make itself."

"Technically it—"

I hung up and took one last look in the mirror. I leaned in, watching my eyes. I could have sworn I saw something for a moment, but it was probably just anxiety. Social situations weren't easy for me, my apparent success in them aside. Maybe.

My last foray social interaction ended with Gloria dead against a wall and Noelle impaled on my sword.

Deep breath.

Taking a step back, I reentered the room and started getting dressed. Green shook my costume out as he removed it from the dryer and Red ran one of those fur rollers over it. Not sure why. I hadn't been near a cat in weeks. Never mind that, I didn't actually need a shower.

It was just a way to be sure Dragon wouldn't overhear anything.

Priorities.

Chevalier was right. The Wards were the future. I wasn't going to be able to fight every villain in the world as much as I might want to. Londo Bell needed time to keep growing. It couldn't take up the mantle overnight, and maybe all the responsibility falling to one group was just part of the problem.

The Wards needed to stand.

More than that, they needed to start learning to stand on their own.

I wouldn't stand by doing nothing.

Little mental chant complete, I grabbed my costume and put it on. Bodysuit. Boots. Gloves. Visor.

My eyes hung on the jacket for a moment.

I'd redesigned it, turning it into a close E-Carbon copy of Gloria's jacket. It was a stupid thing. A gimmick even. I barely knew her. The jacket didn't even look all that different from my old one. Gloria probably bought hers off the rack and gave it extra padding, for all the good it did her. Visually, the new design ended higher on my torso. It was a more sporty look, I guessed.

It still made me feel better.

I'd get Teacher and I'd get the Simurgh. Maybe someday, I could undo whatever was done to Francis Krouse too, and Noelle's friends. They'd have a chance to live. I'd give that to Noelle.

There was less I could give to Gloria. Her name, and her father's, as a symbol of unity. Her face on Celestial Being's website, to respect the one thing she asked of me. A jacket like hers seemed self-serving, but it made me feel better. Made it easier to feel like I wasn't going to forget what happened.

She didn't deserve to be forgotten, even if the news talked about her for all of a day and then never mentioned her again.

I put it on, and collected the tool pack from my bag.

"Red, Green. Let's go."

"Let's go, let's go!"

I started toward the door when it opened.

"—sorry. I should have been more professional."

"You should have."

I looked back and forth between Kati and Colossus. The fuck?

Colossus smiled and started, "It's just, you're really pretty and—and I'm starting down that road again aren't I?"

Kati looked past him and noticed me staring. "I suggest taking the exit."

The man's face turned red as he smiled. "I uh, get overly enthusiastic. Sometimes it's a good thing!"

"I'm sure."

What is happening right now? "Are you seriously still bothering—"

Colossus jumped and turned to face me. "Oh, uh—"

Kati interrupted. "I'm a big girl, Taylor. Thank you, though."

I blinked.

She turned her attention back to Colossus. "Your apology is accepted and appreciated. Next time, try flowers and letting the other person have a chance to talk."

The man and I stuttered. "Next time?"

"Flowers?" Colossus asked.

"It's a universal gesture of attraction and appreciation," Kati noted. "I like tiger lilies."

"O-Okay!"

"You can't be serious," I mumbled.

Kati crossed her arms over her chest and waved one hand down the hall.

"I should go?" Colossus asked. Kati nodded. Colossus nodded back and started down the hall. "Tiger lilies, huh."

I waited till he left earshot and repeated my question. "You can't be serious."

"Your mother would be proud of you for standing up for me, and I do appreciate it. You don't need to worry about me though. I can look after myself."

That was not the point. "But—"

Kati stepped into the room and let the door close. "If I could offer some impromptu dating advice Taylor, the line between sweet and obnoxious is a fine one, but one that some consistently struggle to find. If you happen across someone who can about-face when it's pointed out and apologize without diving into excuses, it's not the worst use of your time to give them a chance to do it right."

My opinion stood. "You can't be serious."

Kati grinned. "Worst case scenario, I get free flowers. Besides, I like being chased."

I mean—I suppose I didn't really see Colossus as anything more than obnoxious. He definitely gave me Veder vibes and I just couldn't see why Kati wanted to give him another chance…

Then again, Colossus took a hint when it was thrown in his face. Greg never could.

"And I'd add," Kati continued, "you seem the type to decide who you like and pursue them rather than wait for someone to pursue you. So you may want to keep that line in mind. It really is hard to see sometimes."

My face turned red, and I had quite enough awkwardness for one day already. "Dragon invited me to a thing."

"I'll stop embarrassing you then." Her face turned more serious. "Stay on your toes. Glenn was cagey, but they are up to something around here. Nothing nefarious I'm sure, but it's not in their interest to make you look good. If you want to stand out while you're here, you'll have to think on your feet."

"I figured."

"I'm checking a few things. I might have some ideas later."

I nodded and got going.

"Crush, crush."

"Hush you."

"Hush, hush."

"I don't have a crush on Hush!" I'd never even talked to him!

"Protest, protest."

"You're cruising for a reprogramming."

The hallway leading to my room was mostly empty and out of the way. Probably some pedantic attempt to sideline me there. It wouldn't work. They probably knew that. They did it anyway.

That's the game we were playing now.

It's when I got near the arena that I started finding crowds. Mostly troopers, staff, and a few Protectorate members. Not many Wards. A few looked at me, but none said anything about my roaming the halls.

That was one hell of a vote of confidence, or maybe they were hoping I'd do something stupid.

Dragon gave me directions, which I followed to an elevator.

"Hello," a small voice greeted. I stared for a moment, and then felt instantly bad for it. The boy's oversized lips turned up in a smile. "It's okay. I know how I look."

"I'm still sorry."

He kept smiling and the four mechanical arms holding up his body moved over to give me some room. His head was misshaped in an uncanny valley sort of way. Skin was too tight in some places and too loose in others. His nose, brow, and lips were exaggerated, and his entire head seemed larger than his actual body. The arms were part of a suit that held him aloft, with a brace around his neck.

"Bough," he said.

"Newtype."

"I know."

Green and Red followed me in and Green jumped up and grabbed onto my shoulder.

"Big arm, big arm!" Red circled him and added, They both waved their own admittedly similar arms, serpentine and winding.

I grimaced. "Sorry."

"It's okay." Bough raised one arm and bent it as if to flex.

"Upgrade! Upgrade!" Fuck.

"What floor?"

"Forty-third."

One of the mechanical hands lifted off the floor. It was clawed with rounded tips, four fingers spread evenly around a circular base. One tip pressed the button and the elevator door closed.

He bowed his head slightly, and in his small voice whispered, "Thank you, for telling us the truth."

He'd been at the call then. I bowed my head. "Noelle—Façade—is the one who knew."

He nodded. "You still told us. Some think you want to use us too but I asked Weld. He says that's how you are."

Guess I succeeded there. "I know what it's like to be on the bottom." I nodded back and looked at the arms. "Bough, you're a tinker?"

"Yes."

I looked closer, remembering what Judge said about my power. With a name like Bough, and from what I saw, I guessed that making limbs and such was his specialty. A simple but probably flexible power. Useful, given his physical limits. Reminded me of Trainwreck.

"What city are you from?"

"New York," he answered.

Not one of the invited Wards?

The elevator came to a stop and I realized it was the only lit button on the panel.

"Guess we're going the same way," I said.

"Maybe." I stepped off and Bough followed behind me. "Do you know Dragon?"

"Yeah."

"I've never talked to her before. I was surprised. Everyone told us lots of capes would be visiting for the week, but it never seemed like it was something we were supposed to be a part of."

"Dragon seems to be doing this on her own."

We went down the hall and I noticed three other tinkers ahead. I didn't recognize them, but they turned right ahead. Same turn we needed to make, just past a few rows of cubicle areas in the open floor stretching from one end of the building to the other. It was huge; put the PRT building in Brockton Bay and Boston to shame.

"Busy around here," I observed.

"Always is," Bough replied. "Interesting talk around the water coolers. Good way to spend time. People from all over the world are here."

The Big Apple, America's great melting pot. Pretty sure great-gran Hebert came over through Ellis Island. Did a family history project about it once.

We made the same turn the tinkers did, and came face to face with a pair of troopers.

"Bough."

"Jim. Tann."

The trooper who didn't speak nodded. He swiped a card over the panel above the doorknob and pushed it back with his foot. "Straight ahead, kids."

We passed through the door, and entered a long hallway lined with grates and reinforced doors. "What is this place?"

"Free space," Bough explained. "Gets used for something new every couple years. Dragon's got it right now."

"She has a lab in New York?" To build wha—

We passed through the door at the end of the hall, and I raised my head.

Green and Red rolled ahead of me. "Whoa, whoa."

The lab wasn't a lab. It was a hangar, and sitting at the center was a large shuttle. Long and sleek with swept wings. Thrusters were mounted on the rear flanking a large bay door, and a pair of turrets toward the front. It was big. Big enough to carry all my Gundams, all the Tierens, and a whole platoon of Troopers.

"Dragon built this?"

"Indeed I did."

I didn't even take a moment to say hi. I started circling the machine. It stood on a trio of struts at the center of the floor with several simple robots and waldos beneath it. She must have assembled it in New York. I could see the materials.

"What is it? Transport for Hashmal?" Why build it in New York?

"I could use it for that," Dragon replied. "More directly though, I'm rolling out a fleet of these ships, intended to support the Guild, the Protectorate, and the Wards. One of the biggest problems we all face is getting to an incident before it's over. We simply don't have enough movers who can move groups."

And the PRT was preparing to show off the new toys, just like with the Dragon's Teeth.

Turning, I spotted the other three tinkers who entered ahead of us. They were at the front of the ship, pointing and talking. One, a girl in silver and purple armor glanced at me for a moment. She quickly looked away.

"How can you support an entire fleet?" I asked. Bough came along beside me, poking at the belly of the craft. "The Dragon's Teeth too."

"A cape named Masamune. He's a tinker specialized in mass production."

My jaw slackened. "There's a mass production Tinker?"

"Rumor has it, the Super Sentai were supported by a particular tinker who never appeared in public. He was supposedly quite talented. Recruiting him was a challenge until we convinced Kaze to talk to him."

Kaze used to be Black Kaze, the only member of the Super Sentai to survive Kyushu. Well, second, apparently. Now the PRT was preparing to roll out an arsenal of mass production tinker-tech, from ships to troopers. That was hardball. All the Wards and capes and all this tech. An awful lot of effort for a week with no itinerary.

"This is amazing," I admitted all the same. "How many are there?"

"Only five at the moment," Dragon answered. "I'd show you the interior, but to be honest I rushed the exterior and made it flight ready, so the cabin is a bit of a mess."

"So…all the parts are visible?"

Bough turned around.

It didn't take long to get Dragon to drop the back doors. By then, more than a dozen tinkers had arrived in the room. Most of us ended up taking a jaunt through the interior. It was messy but not impossible to traverse. The lack of an actual floor or wall panels meant we could see the engines, the power conduits, the mechanics.

When Chris finally arrived, he went right in and started looking. "Wow."

"Hey," I greeted.

"Hey. This is cool."

"Yeah."

Dragon asked everyone not to touch anything and we weren't. I still got down close to some of the main processors to look it over. Most of Dragon's tech I'd seen had a local server that she could operate from, and the ship was no exception. It did differ from her suits in that attached to the processor was an integrated backup, just like the one we'd designed for Hashmal.

I doubt any other tinker would notice, except maybe Chris?

"How's your day been so far?" he asked. "I mean, it just started but…"

"It's started good," I answered. Rising up, and looking around the interior of the ship, I knew what I could do. "There's something I want to try."

The lab was a lab. Fabricators and printers were present, as well as some raw materials.

"Can I use some of this, Dragon?"

"Go ahead. I've finished with most of it anyway."

I wasn't the only one. More tinkers were filtering into the room. Most went to the ship first. A few went to people I assumed they knew. A small group was already gathered around the fabricators and looking over things.

We all thought alike, apparently.

"You brought your tools too?" Chris asked.

"I wasn't going to leave home without the basics. I want to experiment with what Judge said during the trip here."

He laughed. "You think he was onto something?"

"I think I want to find out. Why not now?"

The capes already over on that side of the room were absorbed in looking things over. Tools. Pieces of equipment and armor. Scraps of paper.

I found the idea of no itinerary weird. The PRT had to have something in mind. It was clever, especially if only the tip-top knew what was going on. Chevalier could have asked Dragon to do this without anyone else ever knowing beforehand.

Get all the young Tinkers in one room and let them socialize. I did spot a few adults off in one corner, Gina among them. PR reps to take some pictures no doubt, maybe get some questions and answers for press releases later.

No one plotting to attack the Wards could figure out a good plan when they didn't know where the Wards would be beforehand.

I looked the equipment over, figuring out most of it in a few moments. Moving between small groups didn't make it easy, but it wasn't hard.

"What were you thinking of trying?" Chris asked.

"Something simple I guess."

There were a few novel parts in Dragon's ship, but one aspect of it had been drawing my curiosity.

Dragon phased her armor dimensionally. It was thicker and harder than it seemed. She folded it and shunted it off. It was good, and explained why Saint's stolen suits were so tough, even if she'd devised better versions of the technology over the years.

I was curious, though. Dragon's power let her toy with dimensions. Maybe toying with that would help me with my own dimensional explorations. We'd finally managed to get 00 to form a stable GN field with two drives, but how that translated to getting me to Administrator's world was still a question mark.

Make things better.

Chris followed me around as I looked. "What do you need?"

"Offering to help?"

"Tinkering itch. Not sure what I'd make. Might as well help out. Think that's why they have us all in one room anyway."

I nodded in agreement. "Then let's tinker. If nothing else, it'll pass the time and I'm sure Gina will get some great photos."

I didn't normally tinker by the seat of my pants, but that was refreshing in its own way.

There was a work table off to the side no one was near, and Chris helped me gather some basic materials. I'd gotten a good look at how Dragon did it. How could I make it better?

"You could rearrange the converters," Chris suggested.

"Yeah. A spiral would be good. Natural channel for the power flow."

"Would that work?"

"I've done it before. Can you hold this?"

"I can try but—Yeah, that's not gonna work. Have you considered building another pair of hands?"

Huh. Fortune smiles on the bold.

Red and Green were busying themselves bugging the PR people for pictures. Supposedly. Really, they were getting pictures of me and looking for anything suspicious. One big upside of the Haros' silliness was that no one took them seriously. Unfortunately, that also meant it was best not to call extra attention on them and let them do their thing.

So, "Hey, Bough."

The tinker's tinker-tech arms leaned his body and head over. "Hm?"

"Could we borrow your hands real quick?"

"Sure." He skittered over. Those arms of his were surprisingly quiet when he wanted them to be. "What did you need?"

"I'm trying to assemble this regulator here."

"The converters are a few too many for me to hold alone," Chris added.

Bough nodded. "I got it."

He gently edged Chris aside then produced two more arms from his back. Little and thin ones with smaller talons. Standing on just two of his limbs, the other four closed around the pieces I was working with and held them in place.

I adjusted the focus on my beam saber and turned the tiny spot welder on the pieces.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

"Let me grab the next part," Chris said. "It should be ready."

"Thanks."

"Dimensional shunt?" Bough asked.

"Yeah. I'm testing a theory about my power."

Not sure how well it was working. I couldn't say if my version of the device worked any better than Dragon's. It just worked differently. Did that qualify as better? Suppose I'd have to compare.

Where were those—

I turned around, watching as two Wards exchanged angry whispers with Chris. I knew they were angry because one was sneering at him, and the other glaring at me.

sys.v/ Vanbrace
sys.v/ Halberd

I frowned. "Could you watch this for a sec?"

"I can." He looked toward the scene and frowned. "Maybe we should tell Dra—"

Huh.

I stepped forward without a word. One of the tinkers, Halberd, according to Veda, had raised his voice a bit. I couldn't make out what he said but others apparently did. They turned toward him, and then they turned toward me. Except they turned to where I'd been standing rather than where I was walking and looked surprised.

"Win," I called. "Something wrong with the machine?"

"No," Chris said quickly, glaring at Halberd. "Just having a—"

"Taking orders from her too, are you?" Halberd snarled.

He had a British accent, and his armor was very reminiscent of a certain Tinker I knew. Given the name, I'd guess he was an Armsmaster fan. It would help explain why he said 'her' like he meant 'bitch.'

Chris sighed. "Calm down—"

"She doesn't even belong here," Vanbrace snarled. It occurred to me she spelled her name wrong. Veda didn't make typos. Also, she was glaring at me and I silently wanted to pick at something because this was reminiscent. "She's not a hero."

Chris started to speak, which I appreciated—huh, now I'm pulling a Kati—but I interrupted. "Is that part done?"

"Yeah," he answered immediately, though he didn't look away from Halberd.

I gently took it from his hands and tried to ignore the scene. "Looks good. Let's—"

"My brother goes to Cornell." I raised my head and looked at Vanbrace's visor. "Bakuda could have killed him and you're protecting her!"

Well, I didn't try to avoid making a scene.

I turned the part in my hands, very aware of the crowd that was watching us. Capes. PR people. The Haros. Dragon was somewhere too, and I didn't think any less of her. I set myself up for this. It wasn't her job to bail me out and I didn't want her to. She knew that.

I could make excuses. Explain my reasoning. Provide all the justifications.

It wouldn't change anything.

Bakuda still hurt people, and I was telling the world to let it go.

"Then go to Brockton Bay and get her," I said. "And come up with a really good plan for dealing with me."

Halberd snarled in a very Armsmaster way. "You'd side with a villain? You call yourself a hero—"

"I'm on everyone's side. Everyone has a reason. Everyone has an excuse. Right and wrong isn't as simple as a TV drama. So go ahead. Come to Brockton Bay and bring her to justice, if that's what you think is right." I turned my back to them. "I'm not going to stop you from trying."

"You said—"

"I said I wouldn't stop you from trying." Not like I could.

I wasn't going to argue. There was no point. Either we'd fight it out, or we wouldn't. Maybe the PRT set this up. Dragon would never go along with that, but given her condition the choice wasn't exactly hers to make.

"Why?"

I looked up at a boy to my right, big and tall, with bulky armor. Unlike Vanbrace and Halberd, he didn't look angry. Not happy, but not angry. He seemed set, standing with a few others and watching me.

"Why are you protecting her?" he asked. "You must have a reason."

I watched him for a moment, trying to reassess if this might be a PRT set up. Some way to make me look bad with all the PR people right over there. Awfully sloppy if it was, and how would they get a bunch of Wards to go along with it with straight faces? Most of those watching seemed legitimately confused and uncomfortable.

"Because," I started, "Forecast has seen her kill Behemoth."

And the confusion rose with that statement.

"The world is a mess," I continued. "Ever since she came to Brockton Bay, Bakuda has avoided confrontations with capes except when pressed." Most times by me, technically. "She helped put Lung away. She helped keep him away, and the Empire too. She dealt with the Butcher, permanently. If she's a villain she sucks at it."

Someone started to say Cornell, and I quickly replied, "And don't pretend for a second you weren't a mess when you triggered. We all thought about doing things, about solving our problems in all the wrong ways. Most of us realize how stupid that is, fast."

I stopped.

In an instant something was wrong.

Chris bowed his head. The boy in bulky armor looked away. Even Bough got contemplative. They all knew what I meant. The difference between us and Bakuda was that Bakuda actually tried to do something stupid. She was lucky the Protectorate stopped her before it escalated, otherwise I wouldn't be able to defend her. Wouldn't even want to, I thought.

But Vanbrace...she reacted strangely.

My gaze narrowed, and my lips parted.

She never triggered.

There were two others in the room whose reactions struck as odd. A boy in bulky gunmetal gray armor, and a girl in green and black gear. Not armor. Military in style, but more padded. She had lots of gear though.

They didn't trigger.

They got their powers from vials, and I knew it. Somehow, I just knew I was right.

And there was a revulsion in my stomach at that realization. Powers weren't a consolation prize, but they were something. A sign of life's cruelty. A constant reminder of weakness and pain. A sense that in some way, I had my powers for a reason.

I didn't get them from a bottle. And how did they get the bottles?

sys.v/ Gigear and Matchlock

I had an idea exactly how they got those bottles. Maybe not all three, but if I were a betting girl—

Focus.

"Bakuda isn't that different from us. We came to our senses sooner than she did, and by the time she had the chance the PRT was threatening to send her away for life unless she signed up." I glanced back at Vanbrace and kept a straight face. "You're right. If you want to make her pay for the crimes she committed, go ahead and try."

I quickly turned back to Bough before I could give something away.

"There's no going back at that point, though. Maybe you should consider if she's really worth it, and then ponder the chance that I'd already considered all that before saying a thing."

I continued on my way, aware of Chris right behind me.

Veda fed me info as I walked.

Vanbrace and Halberd were local—members of the New York Wards. Neither was invited, but neither was Bough. While the week was ostensibly for NextGen, it didn't seem anyone was trying to keep the local Wards away.

Gigear was from Seattle, and Matchlock from Houston.

Wards had been attacked in both those cities.

And now they were here.

Maybe Teacher didn't plan to use corrupt troopers at all. Why bother, when he could use corrupt Wards. I should have thought of that. It was blindingly obvious now that it occurred to me.

"Taylor?" Chris asked.

"I'm fine. I knew that would happen eventually. Bakuda managed to avoid killing anyone herself, but she didn't stop the ABB from using her bombs and she ran from custody after Cornell. There were always going to be people angry at me for speaking in her favor."

"Are you okay?" Bough asked.

"I'm fine."

"Sorry about that." His mechanical arms made room as I approached, making way for me to start fitting the new part. "Halberd is a big fan of Armsmaster. He doesn't like you much." Ironic, given that Armsmaster and I weren't feuding anymore. "I didn't know about Vanbrace. We're on different teams."

"Different teams?" Chris asked.

The bulky tinker-who I hadn't noticed following us-explained that there were so many New York Wards, they effectively maintained a half dozen different teams. They didn't always interact directly with one another. They even all had different access points for the tram system, which was an interesting detail.

"That wasn't as convincing as you might think," the bulky boy warned. "Not that I don't know what you mean."

"I didn't exactly come prepared to be ambushed."

"They don't mean it that way."

I gave him a skeptical look. "Most of us don't mean it that way. You're just… You're hard to read. When you first appeared and made waves, you seemed like this really hardcore justice at all costs type. Now you're making nice with Bakuda and Blue Cosmos."

"I am not making nice with Blue Cosmos," I protested.

"That new group you're making has a lot of people who were and still are in Blue Cosmos," he responded. What? "You didn't know about that?"

"No. Is this—Sorry. I didn't ask your name."

"Tecton."

…Tecton? My back straightened and my face turned a little red. I did try to hide it.

"Grace said something, didn't she?" he asked.

"We should blame Grace for the awkwardness," I suggested.

"I can do that."

"Then it's all Grace's fault."

"Yup."

Teenager stuff. Ugh. Well, at least he was mature about it and as awkward as I was. Which only made me feel more awkward. Yey. "You're from Chicago then?"

"Yeah. And people aren't necessarily excited about Agnes Court either. She's not as bad as some of the Elite, but we find her name coming up in a lot of shady stuff. Never enough to prove she'd done anything wrong, but—"

"I get it. I'll look into it. I told her when we made our arrangement that I wouldn't tolerate any more legal greyness. I'll ask Dean about the moonlighting. That sounds like a good excuse for spying and mixed signals. It's not what we want."

"Dean Stansfield?"

"He's not a bad guy," Chris said. "Really. We've been over this in the Bay too, but he's not that kind of person. He takes after his grandfather. They weren't about the hate."

"They were still in a hate group," Bough noted.

"For some people, it was never a hate group," I replied. "Just a group with hateful people in it. They hoped it was something they could combat before it took over."

Bough looked thoughtful for a moment. With his appearance, he probably dealt with Blue Cosmos all the time. Was this like lecturing a black man about racism? That's not what I was trying to do.

He nodded though, and turned his attention back to the device on the table. I was admittedly eager to move on myself rather than argue about this.

Maybe that was a bad call.

If I'd been openly confronted about Bakuda and some of Londo Bell's past membership… It wouldn't just be the Wards who thought that. The Protectorate. The PRT. The Public. I wanted to let our actions speak for us, but actions without words might be too ambiguous to give a clear message.

Maybe just a few words.

"It was kind of you to ask rather than be angry," Veda offered.

Tecton flinched and did that looking around thing. Eventually he noticed Green sitting by his feet and looking up at him.

"Oh, hi."

"Hello. I'm StarGazer."

"I figured. Sorry, I know you were there. Easy to forget, though."

"I am accustomed to it."

Tecton nodded and turned his attention to the table. "Moving on. What are you making?"

Eager to change the subject, I answered, "Dimensional shunt."

"Like the one on the ship," Chris clarified. "One of the capes we rode in with suggested her specialty is 'making things better' and she wanted to test it."

"You don't know your specialty?" Tecton asked.

"I've only ever had a few things I couldn't build. Never had much reason to press and find out."

"You're looking to see if you can make a better version of Dragon's device?" Bough inquired.

"I was," I mumbled. "My own tech gets better, but I would think that's typical." Bough, Chris, and Tecton nodded. "I hoped toying with someone else's tech would work, but I'm not sure if I've improved on it or simply made a variation."

"Is there much of a difference?" Chris asked.

Hm. "Maybe not. Still, though. It sounds right, the way Judge put it."

"We could try something else."

Tecton looked around the room. "Welp, seems like it's tinker time."

I'd become somewhat forgotten while everyone else gathered around tables and machines. Vanbrace was still glaring at me, but other than that the focus was elsewhere. A few people were looking toward the doors, and my brow rose when I turned my attention that way.

"Who is that?" I asked.

Tecton, Bough, and Chris all looked.

"Ursa," Bough answered. "Aurora. She's nice."

"She's not a Ward."

"No."

Then why was she—

The door opened and Mouse Protector walked through, followed by Armsmaster and Rebound. Suppose the latter should be around since Eidolon—the new one—was here too and they were married. But why were any of them up here?

"Welp, it's no good," Mouse Protector said in a very loud voice that drew everyone's attention. She kicked a chair out of the corner and dropped into it, practically shouting, "Uppercrust is in the hospital and it looks like he won't be leaving even if he makes it through the night. Damn shame."

Uppercrust? The head of the local Elite. Supposedly one of the more upfront members of the group. We'd been talking about him just a few hours ago. Crap has it been hours?

"Looks like Eventus will be taking over now," Mouse continued. She reached behind her cape and produced a bag of popcorn. "Total waste of breathe, right Ursie?"

It was then that I noticed Aurora didn't seem happy. She was glancing around the room worriedly. Uncertain.

"Breath," Armsmaster corrected. He didn't shout, but the entire room had fallen silent so I could still hear him.

"You know what I meant! It's just sad. We all know Eventus won't play ball the way Uppercrust did. Guy might have been in it for the money, but he wasn't a total piece of shit. Eventus is a member of the Bastard Son fanclub! It's going to suck, especially if he kills Aries and takes over all the local Elite!"

So Uppercrust, a big time Elite member who cooperated with heroes, was in the hospital. I remembered something being said about his health before. I guess the next in line was far less likable?

"Aries is Uppercrust's lieutenant," Veda told me in a low tone. "Eventus is a rival. They've been feuding of late. A few battles in the streets. Some arrests one seems to have facilitated against the other."

The two were fighting over who would take over when Uppercrust died then. Why were they discussing that—

"And the worst part is that we even know exactly where Eventus and all his asshole friends are," Mouse announced. "This nice warehouse complex up north, a few storage and shipping spots. Great for smuggling About a dozen capes and goons on guard. We could totally take them."

Armsmaster and Ursa didn't disagree, but they didn't do any—

My heart jumped in my chest and a grin spread over my face.

So, that's how they were going to play this.

"Dragon."

"Yes, Newtype?"

Now the heads were looking my way as I turned toward the wall ahead of the ship. "Is that a door?"

"It is. Rather nice view, if you ask me."

"Let's see it."

Somewhere in the wall machines began to rumble. The doors shook and split into four pieces that receded slowly into the corners. Already, a group of tinkers were gathering near the door.

They'd figured it out too.

Of course they did.

The Protectorate probably looked for a few different things in the next generation of heroes. Weld's charming and relatable personality. Chris' earnestness. Judge's raw power potential. Actual leadership skill.

"You think?" Chris asked.

"Since when have I stood around and twiddled my thumbs while the Protectorate just stood there?"

"Shots fired!" Mouse cheered with a laugh. I didn't realize she could hear me. "Armsie, rebuttal!"

"No comment."

"What am I missing?" someone asked.

"Think about it," I answered in a loud voice. Wind began to blow into the hangar and I walked up to the edge. The doors opened up toward the city, facing north. "You think the PRT would really pass up the chance to clean house, when it has over a hundred capes visiting the city?"

Veda began highlighting buildings on my HUD.

"The PRT would be stupid to not leverage all this firepower to make a show of force, promote its intentions for the future, and clean house all in one go."

The room fell silent for a moment, save for the sound of Mouse Protector munching on popcorn.

For a moment, I thought back to Chevalier's speech. I couldn't remember the exact words, but what was it? Something about the Triumvirate not owning the Protectorate? It was an ideal that belonged to others. A broader legacy.

Interesting.

The doors stopped with a thump, and as if a bell were wrung chaos broke out.

"We can't—"

"Why not? Hey, Heavy. Didn't Deduce come with you?"

"Yeah."

"Call her and see what she says. I think I saw Optics upstairs a minute ago."

"Please no—"

"I'll go talk to her. We can do this, so let's do it smart."

"How exactly are we all going to get there?"

"We have a ship, don't we?"

I glanced over my shoulder, smiling as Chris pointed at Dragon's ship.

"It just needs a floor," he said. "Maybe some handrails."

"I am rather busy," Dragon mused. "If you all wouldn't mind doing a little work for me, I'm sure I can convince Chevalier to let you take it on a test flight."

After that, the room erupted in activity.

"Well, someone has to make sure the kids don't get into too much trouble," Mouse Protector declared. "We should bring cameras!"

I let the PR reps get their pictures of the Wards mobilizing for action.

This was unexpected. Faced with imminent destruction, the PRT and the Protectorate chose to find some spine. Faced with the Wards under fire, they chose to fight rather than recoil. More than that, they were giving the Wards the chance to do their own fighting.

It was risky, risky in all the ways I'd expected the people at the top to run and hide from.

"I thought you'd like that." Armsmaster stepped up beside me. "Ten members of the Protectorate are already at the scene, but their orders are to let all of you handle it, unless it becomes apparent you cannot."

"Twenty tinkers with thinker support against a dozen Elite, maybe only half of whom are any good in a fight?" I smiled. "Child's play."

"Hm. If you would watch for Chris. I don't doubt his ability, but anyone can be caught off guard, yourself included."

"We'll handle it." It was so weird seeing him be mentor-ish. "You know, if it had been like this before, I might be a Ward."

Big statement, but it really blew my mind. Sending Wards and teenagers out to do something not only important but that would define the future of the Elite in the city?

It was huge. Insanely huge, actually. It took a moment for the weight of it really hit me. No itinerary indeed. They weren't going to march us about conferences and meet-and-greets.

They were going to have us clear out New York City.

"Perhaps." Armsmaster shouldered his weapon, looking up at my suit. "Perhaps if you'd been a Ward, it would have been harder to convince the Directors to approve something like this. There's pressure, and you're part of it. They know we have to justify our existence or people won't support us going forward."

Something about that rubbed me the wrong way.

No one should have to justify why they exist. I understood his meaning of course. If the Protectorate and the Wards came to be seen as more trouble than they were worth, they'd stop existing. The PRT too. All three groups were doomed, and I doubted they could change that at this late hour.

Still, the fact they were trying was oddly encouraging.

They were ready to fight, and yes. Chevalier was right. The Protectorate was more than just a team, and its members wouldn't stop fighting just because it ended. Some of them maybe, but not all.

They'd keep going, and that's exactly why I was here.

To give those willing to keep going forward somewhere to go forward to, and to let them know there was somewhere to go.

Light erupted from below and the wind whipped my hair up and above my head.

"The Wards no longer have the luxury of being children," he stated bluntly.

Exia's feet slapped against the floor, and my suit rose in full Full Armor.

"No," I replied. "None of us do."