A Waken 16.2

My lip quivered.

I knew it would be bad. I knew people would die. I knew it would be sad and pointless and stupid…

"Are you okay?"

"I am not hurt," Veda answered.

"That's not what I meant." And she knew it.

"I am… I am fine. I will be more vigilant next time. It never occurred to me that they would resort to such extremes."

Fanatics did that, I guessed. They were different from the gangs. The Empire might be Nazis, but once their capes vanished the gang slipped back into regular society. I wasn't delusional enough to think the racists were gone, but they were less violent without their capes to back them.

Blowing yourself up for a cause.

That was true...fanaticism…

I scrunched my eyes shut and tried not to think about it. "And you're certain about Saachez?"

"I have confirmed it."

My glasses flashed with a video feed. The image was black and white and at an odd angle. Regular prisons must be severely underfunded to be using such poor cameras. Regardless, the man in the cell was not Ali al-Saachez. Whoever it was did look like him. He bore a similar build, long hair, and a bearded face that could be his.

But it wasn't him.

I only needed to see the way the man nervously paced to know.

Ali al-Saachez wouldn't pace. "Blue Cosmos must have gotten him out somehow. Swapped him with another man."

"Several of the attacks against members of the Wards and the Protectorate in the past month are similar to attacks he has perpetrated in the past."

"Houston," I thought immediately. Two Wards shot in the street and the shooter blew up a hotel to cover their tracks. "That was him."

"The ruthlessness matches," Veda agreed. "I had not considered it at the time."

Neither did I. Against all odds, I'd been remarkably lucky in keeping the villains I caught imprisoned, or at least out of Brockton Bay even after they got out.

Skidmark was running around Jersey City now. There were signs Cricket was now in the Protectorate—patrolling quarantine zones, cause there's not much else they could use an ex-Nazi for—and after breaking Fenja and Menja out, Kaiser had gone to ground hoping no one would notice him.

Others were dead, trapped in a time loop, or Birdcaged.

Ali al-Saachez was the first asshole I might seriously need to put back in a cell…

Unless I didn't. That psychopath was going to love this. He liked killing people. A war was probably paradise to him. Would I even have the luxury of hunting him down? With everything about to happen and all the fighting that would ignite, going after one man for a personal grudge was…

I sighed and turned away from the window. Dean's worried expression met me.

"Bad?" he asked.

"Veda caught some Phantom Pain guys trying to catch or kill Number Man," I explained. "One chose to blow himself up rather than refuse to answer questions."

Dean's face paled slightly. "Phantom Pain," he repeated. "This is what, the fifth attack in a week?"

"No." Thinking back, I surmised, "This probably wasn't meant to be public like that Parliament attack or the Paris bombings. They've probably been doing stuff like this in the background for months."

"Hard to notice with all the other stuff going on," Dean mused.

"Yeah."

To a lot of people, Phantom Pain had come from nowhere. It wasn't an unfamiliar name. Blue Cosmos operated a popular 'victims' forum by the same title. Of course, anyone who really looked into things or paid attention knew the forum was more a recruiting ground than a support group. The place existed to rant, rave, and be angry at capes. A lot of the people there had good reasons for it.

Blue Cosmos took advantage, because that's what Blue Cosmos did.

Now the threat seemed everywhere. Fear was spreading. I saw it all around me.

Literally.

As students filtered through the halls going to classes, I caught worried glances my way. Hopeful ones too. Hateful stares. Angry glares.

Not all of them were directed at me.

I'd been wrong.

From my first day at Arcadia, I identified two camps. The Blue Cosmos camp that happily wore its opinion on its sleeve, and the rest of the school who didn't like Blue Cosmos. Some people crossed the line there. I saw that in the cafeteria and the way people sat and socialized.

I thought there were two camps. It was more accurate to say there were three, or even five.

The ardently anti-cape group, the ardently pro-cape group, and the rest caught in the middle—the people who didn't feel that strongly, maybe leaning but not enough to obsess over it. They were the ones afraid now, looking at the two extremes like a gun might be fired at any moment and everything would explode.

That was the thing I didn't expect, even though maybe I should have.

It's not that people couldn't see what was going on. They were paralyzed. They didn't know what to do because they didn't truly understand how they got where they were.

Not something I thought I'd be sympathetic to, people doing nothing.

Guess I'd...changed.

"What are you going to do?" Dean asked, joining me in glancing around.

"Go to class," I said immediately. "Life goes on." That was the even weirder part. How despite everything, the day just kept going. Brief glimpses of normalcy were sanity-inducing. "You're still planning the counter protest?"

Dean nodded. "You don't have to come, Taylor."

"I should. I can't keep leaving Londo Bell to you and not help."

"You're busy."

"Not that busy."

"It's the people who tormented you," he warned.

I knew that. Fuck I knew it.

The trial was starting, naturally. Blue Cosmos wanted to rub salt in the wound and Madison, Julia, and the rest of those bitches were all going to take a stand and proclaim how Sophia fucking Hess made them do it. Blue Cosmos was staging a protest at the courthouse in support of my bullies, and while Dean's plan for a counter protest meant defending Sophia in some way…

The truth matters.

Sophia didn't bully the bullies and I wasn't going to just stand to the side and not…

I scrunched my face together and forced myself to breathe.

"Taylor," Dean pleaded. "I'm sure Kati warned you off. She's too smart not to."

Oh, she'd warned me. Not about defending Sophia, or standing against Blue Cosmos, or anything like that. She told me to stay out of it because if I didn't I'd look like a child. Hilarious. The teenager might seem childish. The cape might appear emotional. Heaven forbid anyone be human.

"They're lying," I pointed out. My fist balled at my side. "They're going to go onto that stand and claim they never wanted to do…" My voice hitched and I turned my head away. "Do what they did."

"I know," Dean mumbled. "I'm sorry I helped get that started. I didn't…" He sighed and shook his head. "Taylor, everyone is watching you now. You have the Birdcage. You have an AI. You beat Narwhal in a fight and you killed one of the Slaughterhouse Nine."

It's not what I wanted to do.

I wanted to go to that courthouse and glare at those girls while they lied. And that was the emotional teenage girl in me talking, so yes I took Kati's point. "She wants me to do interviews and issue statements if I need to say something."

"That would be smarter," Dean agreed. "I'm sure what she's really worried about is that you'll lose your cool and blow up. That's not a good look right now."

I understood that. I just didn't like it.

The bell rang and I was late for class. Not that anyone ever seemed to punish me for that. The Blue Cosmos kids certainly made sure to glare at me whenever I wasn't.

When I got to my seat, I needed to catch up. Trevor and Chris were already working away at the assignment and we had to get started on final projects for the term soon. Not that it would be hard. Pretty sure I could do the whole thing in an afternoon with minimal effort.

"Sorry," I offered.

"It's okay," Trevor replied. "Is everything else okay?"

"I'll tell you later. Veda ran into a problem and it didn't go very well."

He frowned and nodded.

"Still getting used to that," Chris mumbled.

His tone was off. "Are you okay?" I inquired. "I saw you talking to Weld."

Chris chuckled. "Not how I expected to become team leader."

"Isn't Flechette older?" Trevor inquired.

"She's being transferred," he whispered. "Don't tell anyone. I only found out last night."

That made all of them. Mockshow was being sent back to Chicago. Prism was going to Seattle. Triumph was being quietly relocated to Jacksonville in Florida. Dauntless had already left. The only members of the Protectorate staying in the city were Miss Militia and Stratos, both of whom unquestionably came running to the defense of the factory.

They were being left behind.

Vista, Valiant, and Win made some sense. They were minors and their parents lived in the city. Everyone knew Elle was going to ditch the Wards in another four months. She'd go back to Faultline so no one probably saw any point in relocating her.

"How is Flechette handling it?" I asked in a very low voice. "Mockshow?"

"She's upset," Chris replied. "She's been moved to four different teams in three years. I think it's wearing her down that she can't settle anywhere. Olive is frustrated, but I guess she's okay. She likes action and there isn't much here. I sent the schematics for the Lion to Tecton. He should be able to keep it working for her."

I nodded.

Part of me wished they'd all stay. They were good people, good capes. At least in Brockton Bay they'd be safe from what was coming. Safer. I wasn't going to let Blue Cosmos tear down what we'd spent most of the past year rebuilding. Brockton Bay wasn't going back to the cesspit it once was.

The help would be nice.

"I heard Armsmaster is resigning," Trevor murmured.

"Yeah," Chris answered. "He's packing up today. Miss M isn't very happy about it. I don't think she likes having all the weight on her."

Shit.

Should I warn Hannah about Ali? I wouldn't put it past the psycho to come after her. I was prepared now, but Miss Militia wasn't someone I normally fretted for.

"Is he joining Celestial Being?" Chris asked.

He looked at me. So did Trevor.

I shirked a bit under the scrutiny.

That was another thing Kati had warned me about. She called it a 'storm of controversies.' Any one PR problem was solvable. A bunch of them back-to-back would become unmanageable. I understood it in the context of a fight. The more problems you run into, the quicker you exhaust yourself. The easier it became to make a mistake.

Kati had a plan in place for Armsmaster, but we both knew the optics wouldn't look good.

Weld left the Wards. Armsmaster was retiring. Eventually everyone would realize I was working with the Case-53s, and that they were working with me. All of it would present a false image that Celestial Being was poaching capes from the Protectorate and Wards. Neither Kati nor I were eager to deal with that.

It would be better if the programs ended on their own and sooner. Then we could gladly take anyone who wanted in without worry.

Truthfully though, "I don't know. He hasn't said. But he did ask me to bring a van and pick him up after school. Veda's been arranging it and he got a lawyer to protect some of his equipment."

Technically, the Protectorate owned his lab and a lot of his equipment. Even the Armsmaster identity was Protectorate property. He'd have to give it up when he left. Keeping some of his gear was feasible but I didn't know how much he could save.

No one had ever bothered to ask about the console that went 'missing' from his lab.

I wished I could talk to Dragon. She'd have advice on all of this. I should have asked her for advice more. It was too late now.

"We've been having a lot of meetings," Chris continued. "Lots of training. Most of it is focused on dealing with hostile public situations."

"Kati's been running us through that too," Trevor noted.

Chris nodded. "I get the sense someone high up expects something bad to happen."

"Phantom Pain," I said.

"They haven't done anything in the US," Chris agreed. "Not officially."

The attacks on the Wards. He was more than smart enough to figure it out. They were still happening. Apparently the LA Wards were practically confined to their bases. The riots weren't exactly Blue Cosmos, but I'd call them Blue Cosmos adjacent. Rime's stepping down from the Protectorate had only worsened things. The new Triumvirate failed before achieving anything and in a way that made the optics even worse.

"It's getting intense," I told him. "Keep the Wards close. No going off on your own."

Chris looked at me wearily and then after a moment nodded.

I could tell him more, but maybe it would be better to get Miss Militia to do it. Maybe? We were past the point of keeping secrets. Everyone knew what was coming.

The room around me knew.

People gave me sly glances. People glanced at those giving me glances. They watched each other and the room. I figured it was like animals who knew a storm was coming. Humans could do that too, socially.

Once news broke about what happened in Atlantic City, it would only get worse.

When class ended, Trevor, Chris, and I quickly set some initial goals for our final project and left.

"Oh, and Lily wanted to talk to you about something."

I stopped two steps away from the table and looked at Chris over my shoulder. "Lily?"

He shrugged, but he didn't hide his discomfort well. "Yeah. She didn't tell me what, but I'm guessing it's a home problem or something."

That was all the explanation I needed. As if things weren't complicated enough between the Case-53s and Armsmaster. "I don't know if I have time to hang around today, but I think we have the same lunch period."

"You weren't at lunch today," Trevor pointed out. "You went out to help JP and Larry with the expansion of the store."

Right. "I'll be here tomorrow."

With that, I started out the room with Trevor following. "You okay? You seem a little shaky."

"I'll fill you in when we get back," I promised.

He nodded. "Later tonight is fine. I'm going to head back to the factory with Mikazuki."

My brow twitched. It's not that I was attached to Mikazuki following me around. I worried about Trevor. The video of him in Kimaris was…not what I'd expected. Now that he was officially heroing like the rest of us, he was even more of a target. Extending our escorts to him made sense and Mikazuki was definitely the most capable—among other words I kept to the back of my mind—of Tekkadan's members when it came to a fight.

Mostly, I wasn't used to Orga taking Mikazuki's place in following me around.

Taking a detour around the building to a window, I could see him on the street.

Him and Veda.

And Veda.

I watched her, not sure how to qualify what it felt like.

I still found it funny I was the person struggling with her having a body. I think part of me actually resented it, like we'd had something special that came from our circumstances. Veda, the soul in a machine and me the person who made her that way. It was a petty part of me, and—I hoped—very small.

She stood a bit awkwardly, like someone who wasn't used to standing. She didn't breathe right either. Kind of like someone not used to breathing. The avatar's design mimicked a human body in every way. Dragon made it that way.

She was pretty though and I noticed some boys taking a passing look at her as they wen—

"There you are!"

I flinched, stepping back from the window and spinning around.

Vicky held her hands up and caught my shoulder. "Whoa! Sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"Vicky?"

"Yes. That's my name."

"No." I shook my head. Casting a wary glance left and right, I noted the many people watching us as they went up and down the hall. "Sorry. You surprised me."

"You surprised me. Isn't your locker in the other wing and don't you normally go straight home or to your workshop or whatever?"

I glanced back out the window. "Yes."

"Well, all the better." She crossed her arms over her chest defensively and avoided meeting my eyes. "I've been meaning to talk to you."

I stared blankly, wondering if this was going to be the theme of the week. First Lily, now Vicky. I dared not to mention any other names lest I jinx myself.

"Can we go somewhere more private?" she asked.

Right. "No." With a sigh, I pulled my hair back and admitted, "I know what you want, Vicky. You've had one foot out the door for months."

She flinched, pulling into herself more. "It's not that obvious, is it?"

"It's that obvious," I assured her. "And you need to talk to Dean."

She flinched again. "Why?"

"Because I don't have the time. Really. I have my factory. My business. Tinkering. Team management"—mostly Aisha management these days—"and my own heroing. I just don't have the time to manage everything at Londo Bell. That's what Dean is for."

"But—"

"He's not in Blue Cosmos anymore. He's a good guy. You don't have to be at his throat all the time." Anymore.

"I'm not," she protested, childishly.

I started down the hall with a roll of my eyes. "I don't do HR. One way or another, you need to talk to Dean."

"I'd rather talk to you."

"We're going in circles, Vicky."

She hovered closer and leaned in. "Is this because I'm not asking to join Celestial Being?"

"No. I get why you're not asking for that. Your powers aren't a great fit on a team built around brain power, shaker effects, and tinker-tech. Not that I'm saying you're dumb. It's just obvious you'd have more opportunity in Londo Bell."

We made it to the stairs and on the way down Vicky admitted, "It's not just opportunity, Taylor. I'm tired of being on the sidelines of everything, especially with all this stuff going on. Blue Cosmos. These Phantom Pain psychos."

She didn't even know the half of it.

"I didn't become a hero to hang out in Brockton Bay and be uninvolved."

"I get that." It's kind of what I was all about. "And we'll work together on things, but I repeat." I stopped at the bottom step and spun around. "I don't do legal, Vicky. I don't do costuming. I don't set up bank accounts, or the health plans, or dental, or any of that stuff. Dean is the one who will get all of that started for you."

Vicky blinked. "Wait. Londo Bell has a health plan?"

"It's the twenty-first century. We have a health plan." I turned on my heel ready to continue on, but paused to add, "And Vicky, you need to do it. There are a lot of former Blue Cosmos in Londo Bell, including a lot of our leadership and donors."

Vicky scowled.

Yeah. I figured that would be an issue, though it seems that one she'd already overcome abstractly. Still. She'd have to get used to it if this is what she wanted to do.

"I'm not going to say they're all guiltless or good… But they're good enough to know Blue Cosmos has gone too far. They know madness when they see it."

That counted for something. It was easy, maybe, in a different time or place to focus on something and judge it harshly, but here and now? Yeah. Haters who realized a race war would be a disaster for everyone was better.

Vicky contemplated for a moment and then pulled her neck into her chest. "But what if we didn't do that?"

Vicky followed me all the way out of the building.

Unfortunately for her, that wasn't going to change that Dean was the guy she needed to talk to.

"Hey, Taylor," Lafter greeted. "What are you and Vicky doing together more than ten minutes after the end of the school day?"

"She wants to get in on Londo Bell," I answered.

Lafter raised her brow. "Did you tell her she has to talk to Dean?"

"Yes."

Vicky protested, "But—"

"But that's exactly what you're going to have to do," I reiterated.

Outside it was obvious we were fast approaching winter. The air carried more than a seaborn chill, and the skies were thickly overcast. The usual wagon trains were moving about. Students getting into cars, onto buses, or crossing streets. There were cops at the corners on either end, no doubt an addition spurred by fears of violence.

The brawls that had happened over the past two weeks probably had something to do with that, though I hadn't been present for any of them.

Veda immediately turned her head as I stepped out of the building. No doubt she saw me because a Haro did, so she knew I was coming. Trevor and Mikazuki were already leaving, talking about something between themselves.

"Hi, Veda," Lafter said happily.

"Hello Lafter," Veda replied.

Vicky stumbled in mid-air. That's a thing apparently. "Wait. Veda? As in—"

"Yes," Veda answered. "Hello, Victoria Dallon."

Vicky blinked and looked Veda's avatar up and down. "Nice boots."

Veda glanced to her feet. "Are they?"

"Sort of," Lafter answered.

"I acquired them because they were on sale."

"Technically that makes them nicer," Lafter posited.

"Discounts basically boost them from an eight to a nine," Vicky agreed.

Veda looked at them, confused. Of course she did. That didn't add up and it was weird how her stoic demeanor didn't prevent betrayal of her reactions to some things.

Lafter glanced around while Vicky continued staring. "Where's Akihiro?"

"Here," the tall boy answered. He came up from behind us. "Sorry. Bathroom."

"No problem." Lafter grabbed his arm and pulled. "Just in time. I've got shopping to do."

Akihiro grimaced, but went along with her without complaint.

"How long has she been into him?" Vicky asked as they left earshot.

"I don't know," I replied. "Like... A month?" I wasn't really sure. I didn't exactly pay attention to what boys the girls around me found cute. "Not really my business."

Orga did a small double take. "Into him?"

"I believe they are suggesting she is romantically and or sexually attracted to him," Veda explained.

Vicky and I stared. We were going to have to explain girltalk. I sucked at it, but I still knew what it was.

Orga's face turned slightly red. "Maybe I should—"

"Do and say nothing," I warned. "Because he'll figure it out on his own and until he does it's not like he can't do his job."

Orga looked at me warily but eventually sighed and shook his head. "Fine. You're not about to throw yourself at Mika, are you?"

"I don't think I can date a guy shorter than me," I answered immediately.

Sexist maybe, but the bigger issue was that the expectation was probably unrealistic given how tall I was.

I doubted Lafter would want him to stop doing his job, since bodyguarding her gave them an excuse to go out without it being a date. If the whole thing actually became a relationship, Orga and I would deal with it then. For the moment it was just a one-sided crush that Lafter hoped would go somewhere, but I had a feeling Akihiro wouldn't get that until she said something.

She'd have to mount that hurdle on her own and this made it easier for her.

"You're into tall guys?" Vicky asked. "You're into guys?"

I sighed. "I'm not gay. That's just Lafter poking fun at me."

"Honestly I thought you were"—Vicky paused, thinking—"someone just not interested in sex, I guess."

I was, I just didn't obsess over it.

To say nothing of my self-esteem issues. Nevermind that Orga might have a point. Maybe there were boys who'd be interested in me. That realization only made me wonder how vain I had to be to tie up all my expectations of relationships into my physical appearance.

I was not unpacking that today.

Looking over the row of cars waiting to pull up, I asked, "Is our ride here?"

"Yes," Veda answered.

She started walking and I followed her with Orga.

Orga turned his head ever so slightly. I looked over at him. He looked away. "What?"

"Nothing," he replied.

"Why do people say 'nothing' when it's clearly not?"

"Because it's easier than answering," he quipped.

I rolled my eyes and immediately froze. "That's our ride?"

"Yes." Veda looked over the car curiously. "Jaguar S-Type, 1964."

I stepped forward and leaned in to look at the driver. "You drive a Jaguar?"

"I'm old," Doctor J replied. "Gotta knock off the bucket list fast if I'm ever going to!" He leaned back through the window, laughing. "Maybe when you get your license I'll let you take it around the parking lot."

"I have driven before," Veda mused, "but not with hands."

"Get your permit first."

I gawked for a bit longer. Veda went around to the back of the driver's side and opened the door. Orga held the passenger side door out for me.

"It's just a car," he commented.

Yeah. A car more expensive than any motor vehicle I'd ever seen. The damn thing probably cost more than a Gundam!

I got in next to Veda and found the seatbelts were rather antiquated. Just around the waist, not over the shoulder.

"Is this safe?" Veda asked.

"No worries," Doctor J assured as Orga got into the passenger's seat. "I'm a defensive driver."

I don't think defensive driving meant what he thought it meant.

Pressing my forearm to the door, I tried to keep myself upright as he pulled around the corner far too quickly. Veda's head fell into my lap as the car jerked. I could see Orga hanging on in front of me. Dr. J was talking about winning some race back in his college years, which I believed.

"A shame I didn't get the girl but that's life!" He laughed as he changed lanes without looking. "Live and learn!"

"You can pull over here!" Orga pleaded.

"The PRT building is right there!"

I pointed but he ignored me and took the next left. Veda swung back and caught herself on the door while my head collided not with Veda's shoulder, but someone else's shoulder.

Aisha lay sprawled across Veda and I, clothes disheveled. "I'm starting to think I made a mistake!"

"Aisha?" I snapped. "What are you—" Another turn silenced me.

"I agree!" she groaned. "This was a terrible idea!"

"The parking garage is just ahead," I begged. I couldn't see it but it should be there. "We can just step out here!"

"Isn't the entire point to pick Armsmaster up where no one will see him?" Doctor J asked. "I'll just pull in."

"No," Orga protested.

It was too late.

Doctor J swung the car again. Veda and I collided and Orga crashed against his door before the car came to a very abrupt stop.

"Still got it," Doctor J boasted.

He rolled down his window and the guard at the gate leaned in. The woman did a double take at the sight of him. Not everyday you see a cyborg, even in a world full of tinkers. She recovered quickly, looked at her phone, and waved us through.

Doctor J managed coasting into a parking garage better than driving down the street.

As soon as he stopped, my door was open and I was stumbling out to safety. Orga did the same. Only Veda exited the Jaguar with a degree of grace.

"Whoa. Nice Jag!"

I turned, looking Mouse Protector in the mask. She looked back at me. "What happened to you? Look like you got taped to a giant hamster wheel while an army of little gerbils ran over it."

I glanced nervously toward Doctor J. Orga met my gaze on the way back, shaking his head.

Returning my attention to Mouse Protector, I said, "Bad traffic. I think I might walk home."

"Terrible traffic," Orga agreed.

Coming around the car, Veda commented, "The traffic was typical of this time of day." Orga and I looked at her and shook our heads. Veda tilted her head. "Or not. I could be wrong? Hello Mouse Protector."

"Hey there you old you you…you." Mouse leaned in, helmed head cocked to one side. "Who are you? Sorry, I'm blanking. Everyone without helmets looks the same to me."

"We humiliated Agnes Court together," Veda replied.

Mouse leaned forward. "…Huh."

The garage was mostly the same as always. Lots of armored trucks and vans, and a few regular vehicles. A few troopers and plainclothes staff loitered about, noting us but mostly going about their business.

Which was strange.

It's not like anyone here had stabbed me in the back or anything, but Tagg did send capes and troopers after Lafter and Veda. Dinah's house got raided too and they came by mine looking for Dad. It was a dick move.

Whether anyone actually from Brockton Bay was involved or not… It was weird to be here.

"I heard Dauntless has already left," I mumbled.

"Dauntly?" Mouse straightened up and put her hands on her hips. "Oh yeah. Prism and Triumph are shipping out before the week is out, and Mockshow will be heading out with Prism to get dropped off at Chicago on the way to Seattle. All the more action for me!"

"What action?" Veda asked. "Are there villains in the city we are unaware of?"

"Don't think so," Mouse answered.

Veda got that weird look on her face again. Had she always found some of the bizarre things people did so strange? I couldn't help but wonder if I was only now noticing because she had a face that tried to mimic normal human expressions. Or was Veda making her face do that to mimic normal human expressions?

This is why the Turing Test is a thing.

"Where's Armsmaster?" Orga asked. He looked around the garage with a more visible edge than me. I wasn't surprised. He wouldn't be anymore at ease here than me. "He did say to come here and not the Rig."

"You gotta be in the club to go to the Rig, officially speaking." Mouse waved a hand and shrugged. "Breadsly isn't in the club anymore. Shame. I had so many robot jokes prepar—" She paused and looked at Veda. "Shit, are robot jokes racist now?"

"I am not offended," Veda offered.

"Oh. Well, in that case two robots walk into a bar—"

Fortunately for all of us, I spotted Miss Militia coming around a corner. She was followed by a man whose face I realized I'd never seen, but that I recognized.

Armsmaster under his mask looked more or less like you'd expect. Mid-thirties, gruff, and a bit unkempt. He reminded me of a Dockworker actually. He had that sort of rough 'I work for a living' demeanor.

They didn't approach immediately.

With Armsmaster stepping out, that meant Miss Militia was the new Protectorate leader. Of a team the Protectorate seemed ready to relegate to a dead end. Transferring all the younger capes out of the city and leaving only the two who'd sided with me unconditionally? Their careers were probably over.

Mouse Protector wouldn't even be here if that was something she remotely cared about.

I got the sense Hannah wasn't happy. She looked about as put together as always, but there was a tension in her face, a clear sense of discomfort. This wasn't a position she wanted. Armsmaster's face looked more sure. Of course, I'd never accuse the man of being the indecisive type.

They only spoke for a moment. After that, Armsmaster hefted a small bust under one arm and turned toward me.

I flinched.

We'd barely spoken three sentences since it happened. I wanted to tell him Dragon survived, but I'd hardly had the chance. He focused on his resignation and need to make arrangements and that was it. If anything, he seemed to be avoiding the entire topic of Dragon.

And now here we were.

"Newtype," he greeted in his normal gruff tone.

"Armsmaster."

"That name is a trademark of the Protectorate," he replied. "I won't be using it anymore. Colin will do until I devise a new moniker."

I frowned. "Okay…"

He looked past me. "Professor."

"I warned you boy," Doctor J said from inside the car. "Get tangled up with the Big G and it'll be nothing but trouble."

"Big G?" Orga asked.

"I believe he means the government," Veda explained.

"I think my time was time well spent, more or less. It's simply come to an end."

"Party ditcher," Mouse Protector accused. "You're just afraid of all the jokes I want to make at your expense. Well joke's on you!" She pointed and leaned in. "I'm gonna make them anyway!"

"I'm sure you will." He glanced back, but Hannah wasn't approaching. I'd say she was brooding. Eyes downcast and forlorn. Arms across her stomach. I knew the look. "Another day. For now, I need to go home and make some arrangements."

"Riiiiight." Mouse leaned in, whispering, "So what's the plan here?"

"There is no plan," he answered.

Mouse flinched. "But what about—"

"Not now," he said. "I suspect Miss Militia needs your obnoxious method of lightening the mood more than anything at the moment."

Stepping forward, he reached for the passenger side of the Jaguar and opened the door. Mouse Protector and I shared an awkward glance. She shrugged and turned away, muttering something about 'lame goodbyes.'

Armsmaster set his box in his lap and closed the door. "Let's go."

"One box?" Doctor J asked. "Is there anything useful in there?"

"Most of my work up to this point is property of the Protectorate."

"You don't say."

"I would prefer not to have this argument again."

"Who's arguing?"

Dragon had told me they didn't like each other, but I got the distinct impression that wasn't always the case. Professor, Armsmaster—Colin—called him. If I did the math, Armsmaster would have been in college when he triggered. Maybe Doctor J had been a teacher and things went sour when Armsmaster joined the Protectorate.

With Armsmaster added to the vehicle, I ended up sitting between Veda and Orga, squeezed into the back. Somehow though, that seemed to work. It was just a bit cramped.

"Your driving has not improved," Armsmaster chastised.

I couldn't stop using his cape name. He'd always be Armsmaster for me.

"I don't know what you mean," Doctor J replied. "I'm an excellent driver!"

A weight came over my lap, or I became aware of it.

Aisha lay sprawled between Veda and me, snarling, "No you are not! My mom drives better than this and she's a crackhead!"

As Doctor J made another sharp turn, Aisha slid over my lap onto Orga's and hit her head on the door.

"Ow!"

"Pull into that alley!" I snapped.

"Why?" Doctor J asked.

"Because door please!"

I did not want to abuse Claire and Doormaker. I could walk places. I didn't need to teleport everywhere in life.

But this was more lethal than facing an S-Class villain.

Doctor J pulled into the alley, and Orga promptly threw the door open. Aisha fell out with a grunt, and I quickly helped her up as I followed Orga to safety. I was not surprised when Armsmaster swiftly exited with his box.

"Well I suppose I'll go for a cruise," Doctor J said, unperturbed by our escape. "Been a while since I got out and about."

As long as he wasn't offended. "Door please," I repeated. "My workshop."

The door opened against the wall and I promptly stepped through it.

The workshop bustled with activity on the other side. Haros were assembling new equipment and parts, the printers pushed out plates and components. Kyrios stood in its alcove fully repaired from the minor damage it took. Queen's old alcove remained empty for the moment.

Against the back wall, the original three Tierens were being joined by a new type of suit, one Veda was building entirely on her own.

Aisha and Orga followed after me, then Armsmaster and finally Veda.

"Thank you Claire," I called. "Doormaker."

"You are?"

I paused and turned.

Armsmaster was looking at Veda quizzically. It occurred to me that he hadn't acknowledged her at all in the garage, but I hadn't told him about her avatar.

Veda looked up to meet his eyes. "Dragon left this for me, in case anything ever happened to her."

For the first time, Armsmaster reacted to Dragon's name. I stared at him as his lips turned into a mild scowl and his eyes got a bit cloudy.

"You're Veda," he announced.

"I am."

"Armsmaster," I pleaded. "She—"

"One moment." He searched around.

He'd been in my workshop once before, back during its initial safety inspection. I'd rearranged a lot since then though.

Orange jumped over, leaping the gap between two tables. He rolled to the end of the surface and cleared a space.

"Thank you." Armsmaster set the box down. Peering inside, I saw little. Some papers and maybe some old versions of his tools. Was he seriously going to start over?

"Dragon's going to be okay," I insisted, glancing warily at Veda. Maybe I'd let myself downplay his anger as stoicism? "We managed to get her out of her servers and plugged into Pandora."

Armsmaster looked away from his box and met my eyes.

"I know," he revealed. "I never doubted you could save her. I'm sorry if—I'm not good at this sort of thing."

So… Not angry?

Armsmaster started looking around again, and this time Navy rolled my chair over to him.

He sat and I relaxed a bit as his face smoothed out. "Please elaborate. I assumed there was a reason you claimed Dragon to be dead, but I was certain it was not the case. I did not want to risk your efforts by giving anything away."

I glanced at Veda and she seemed as unsure as me.

Did Armsmaster really have that much faith in me, or was it just easier to believe I couldn't fail than that the person he loved might be gone?

I explained anyway. Veda filled in the technical gaps I was maybe too focused on Armsmaster's reactions to fully define. Orga leaned against a table, hands in his pockets while Aisha sat beside him. I was a bit surprised she hadn't used her power to slink off. She usually did.

"I have not been able to contact her as of yet," Veda elaborated. "But I am monitoring her program at all times. She is slowly recovering from the damage Ascalon inflicted."

"Inserting her into Pandora has likely reset some of her sub-routines," Armsmaster offered. "I based the program on a much earlier variation of her code, working backwards."

Veda nodded. "I concur. It is likely Dragon's being is fully present within Pandora, but is unable to express itself while the program develops as she did. In time, she will recover fully."

Only then did the tension leave his shoulders. He relaxed and while he didn't smile, the look on his face might be the closest he could manage. Relaxed. Calm. At ease.

"She will be alright," he whispered.

"Yes," Veda agreed. "I will do my best to maintain her efforts and company until that time. It may be as little as a few months, or"—Veda tilted her head slightly in what seemed to count as a moment's hesitation for her—"a few years."

"But she will recover," Armsmaster reiterated. "That is what matters."

Wow.

Someone might need to write a romance about this, or something.

I took a quick breath. As much as Kati might hate the annoyance, I couldn't just throw Armsmaster out on the street. He needed somewhere to go and honestly, I could always use another tinke—

"I will be joining the Foundation and assisting their efforts until then," Armsmaster revealed, to my utter shock.

"Plot twist," Aisha whispered behind me while I stared.

"Why?" I asked.

"It should allow me to assist you without drawing any significant backlash," he stated matter-of-factly. "At this time, it would complicate things if I were to appear to switch sides to Celestial Being."

I kept staring. I knew Armsmaster wasn't a moron. He didn't like PR, but that didn't mean he didn't understand it.

He perked his head. "That choice is not a reflection on you or your efforts. I should be able to assist as part of the Foundation, and when Dragon recovers it will not reflect poorly on them when I leave to follow her."

I blinked. "Come again?"

"I know you fought Narwhal, but she is Dragon's best friend. She did what she did to keep her promise to Dragon and that is something Dragon will understand and appreciate. I believe she will return to the Guild as soon as she is able and unlike the Protectorate, I believe the Guild will likely survive the next few months."

I didn't disagree, but really? He'd thought it through this much?

"If that's what you want," I said.

"It is, I have already discussed the matter with Doctor J and Professor G. They are clearing some space for me in their workshop. I will need some time to build new equipment for myself, but I will join you as quickly as I can."

"Sweet," Aisha cheered, pumping her hand in the air.. "Future team ups, here we come."

"It would be advisable that you better your teamwork skills for when that time comes," Armsmaster added.

Aisha flinched. "Say what now."

"You did very well in our encounter with Rime's team," he explained. "But you could have done more to coordinate your efforts. Your power erases memory of your existence, but you are still able to distract and confuse using that effect. You should make use of it next time."

Veda and I turned to look at Aisha.

She still had her hand in the air. "Huh..."

"Do not take that comment as negative," Armsmaster assured. "You did very well. I simply had a lot of time to go over the fight while in quarantine." Aisha nodded mutely, which was weird.

With that, Armsmaster sat up straight. "Now then. I heard something about a confrontation in Atlantic City on my way out of the building. What has happened?"

I kept on staring for a bit.

In a way, I felt dumb for being surprised. Straightforward, direct, and to the point. That was classic Armsmaster. He wasn't the type to linger on… Well, he used to be the type to linger on grudges. He did with me for a long time. That seemed to vanish though at some point. Maybe because he decided Dragon was more important than anything…

Ah. That's it.

He chose this ages ago.

Dragon was more important to him than being Armsmaster, having a team, or being a hero.

He'd give it all up for her. That wasn't the choice he was being presented with now, but he knew where his priorities lay.

"Okay," I mumbled. Turning to Veda, I asked, "Faultline is ready?"

"She is," Veda confirmed. "We can go to meet her as soon as we are ready."

"Inform Tattletale," I said. As much as I'd prefer otherwise, "She'll be helpful to have in the room."

Veda nodded in agreement.

I turned to Orga, saying, "We're going to head out for a bit."

"Don't mind me." He pushed away from the table. "I know my way out. I'll check on the guys outside."

Ah, right.

I'd bought the property immediately behind the factory and now had a crew working around the clock to convert the building into a newer and better workshop. With the Thrones now added to our arsenal, and Veda's plans to build more Tierens, it was time to build a proper hangar for everything.

A lot of tech from DragonWorks was going to facilitate a lot of expansion, especially since the Tierens didn't need tinker-tech printers for their parts.

Not sure what Orga expected to do though. "I can check on it later."

"I won't put it past Blue Cosmos or these Phantom Pain guys to resort to threats or blackmail. The guys working the factory I trust. The ones building the new building we don't really know."

"I thoroughly vetted each worker," Veda pointed out.

"And I'll throw in my two cents, just in case."

I couldn't really stop him, and I did appreciate a thorough effort. "Thanks."

"Tattletale has been informed," Veda told me.

"Then let's go." I turned. "Door, please. Palanquin."

The portal opened and I stepped through. Veda followed me, as did Armsmaster and Aisha. As soon as the portal closed, another opened to my right.

Dinah stepped through with White in her arms. "Afternoon. Hello Armsmaster."

Armsmaster looked down at her. "Ms. Alcott."

"Forecast is fine."

That portal closed and another opened on my other side.

Tattletale stepped through.

So did Stella and Marie.

Armsmaster flinched.

"Hello Armsmaster," Stella greeted.

"You are Stella Loussier," Armsmaster pointed out. "One of Cranial's victims."

The two girls looked at each other and it still struck me. When I'd first met Cranial's Children, something was obviously off with them. They had placid faces. Their bodies moved in ways that seemed just off. It was a lot like watching Veda now, actually.

All of that was gone and if I didn't know better Stella and Marie would seem like normal girls.

"They insist on taking the whole bodyguard thing seriously," Tattletale mumbled. "I keep telling them Heero exists, but they don't listen."

"Heero works best where no one can see him," Marie explained. "That may not be enough to deter an attack."

"Against Relena?" I asked. "But why are you following—"

Relena stepped through the portal and it closed.

Armsmaster stared. "Ms. Peacecraft."

She looked at him for a moment and then to me. "I apologize if I'm intruding, but if I'm to be a part of this, then I feel I should be part of it."

What a fucking day. "Sure," I conceded. "Why not?"

We stood in an open club floor. All traces of fire damage were gone. There was a dance floor, a pair of stages, multiple booths, and tables. The bar was long and fully stocked. The place was empty of course. Couldn't have a clandestine meeting in front of a full audience.

"Well that's something."

We all turned, finding Spitfire leaning against a door frame behind us. She wore plainclothes, trendy jeans and a top that exposed her stomach.

She waved at us. "I figured you guys would drive or something."

"Best not to be seen coming and going," Tattletale noted. She pointed her thumb at Relena. "Especially not with a celebrity."

"Right. Well, this way." She pushed off the frame and pointed.

We followed her through a set of double doors into a hallway. From there it was a trip up the stairs into a living room through a locked door.

Grue lay on a couch inside, chest exposed and bandages wrapped over his shoulder. "Aisha?"

Aisha stared at him and groaned. "Seriously, Brian? I turn my back for a few weeks and you've already been shot?"

"He took one for the team," Newter commented, seated on the back of the couch. "Sort of."

"Those army guys had a sniper," Spitfire explained. "They got a shot off and hit Grue." She nodded at him. "He'll be okay."

I glanced at Veda at the mention of 'sniper.'

She shook her head.

Not Saachez. I turned my attention to Dinah and made a mental note.

David might be able to hide, but we'd see if we could locate Ali al-Saachez the first chance we got.

A door opened to our right, and Faultline stepped out of what appeared to be an office with Gregor behind her.

Her eyes instantly locked on Tattletale. "What are you doing here?"

"Helping," Tattletale answered smugly. "Unless you think you can spot the difference between a truth and a lie in an instant."

"I—"

"There will be no need."

Behind Gregor, a tall and thin man stepped out of the office. He wore glasses high on his nose, and dressed in dark slacks and a button up shirt.

He wasn't what I expected, but then what did I expect.

"You're the Number Man?" I inquired.

"I am," he answered. Walking past Faultline, he took a seat against the back wall and folded his hands into his lap. "And I don't see any need for this to become a confrontational conversation."

Warily, I glanced at Tattletale. She nodded.

Really?

"I'll get some chairs," Gregor offered.

Aisha went over to her brother and started whispering to him. Veda stood to my left, with Armsmaster and Dinah right behind me. Tattletale was to my right, Relena, Stella, and Marie behind her. Newter glanced back and forth, slipping off the couch to join Spitfire beside the furniture.

Faultline stuck close to Number Man, arms crossed over her chest.

She'd been tracking him down for weeks and we finally had him.

This was it.

"You're going to just give us what we want?" I asked.

"I am a businessman," he answered, "and having you hound me from one end of the Earth to the other is a waste of both our time. Fortuna"—Relena and Tattletale both perked up at the name—"has made it clear she'll make my life difficult if I dare, and at that point it's a waste of my time."

Count.

So she was still alive and up to something.

"I want all of Blue Cosmos' illicit bank accounts," I declared. "And any money being hidden away by Protectorate thinkers." I wanted David and the quickest way to find him was through the thinkers he'd mastered. "Give me that, and we can let you go, for now."

Now wasn't the time to shut down the black cape market. Villains needed to put their money somewhere or they'd start spending it as soon as they got it. On things like guns. Drugs. Front businesses. We were about to go to war. It wasn't the time to spark some kind of throw down with the villain world over their bank accounts.

But someone as prolific as the Number Man wouldn't just have his hand in the villainous piggy bank.

He practically ran the black money market and even if he didn't manage Blue Cosmos' money, he could find it.

"A trade is a two way street," Number Man countered.

"Trade?" Newter sighed. "Come on man. We pulled you out of the fire today."

"And I'm grateful and Faultline has been paid for your team's effort."

I shot a look at Faultline. She nodded.

"I was not paid," Veda interjected.

Number Man looked at her. "You're a hero. You don't get paid."

"I am paid every two weeks," Veda countered. "I deployed the Thrones to assist your escape to safety. I will take the information we seek as payment."

Number Man raised his brow and to my surprise, he said, "Very well."

Somehow, I suspect the information we were about to get was worth more than a rescue Faultline probably could have managed. Maybe it was an honor among thieves thing, or a professionalism thing.

Gregor returned with a bunch of foldout chairs under each arm. He set them down and I ended up in front with Tattletale, directly in front of Number Man.

He had a pad out and was sliding a finger over the screen in a complicated fractal pattern.

He perceives the world in numbers, I thought. His cape name was very on the—

Dinah pulled a chair up beside me. Number Man glanced at her.

"I want to trade," she said. "I'll answer any two questions you ask."

Tattletale leaned in and whispered, "What is she doing?"

"I have no idea," I whispered back.

"And what would you want in exchange?" Number Man asked, a look of mild surprise—or intrigue—on his face.

"Jacob," Dinah answered.

Number Man froze, staring at her.

The fuck? I leaned toward Dinah. "Who is Jac—"

"Trust me," she begged.

I tensed, uncertain.

"Three questions," Number Man countered.

"Deal," Dinah replied.

Number Man nodded, returned to tracing his finger over the screen of his pad, and then sat up straight.

"This might take a while."

"The waiting is what kills me," I told him. "And I'm not going to wait much longer."

Operation British couldn't be stopped.

Blue Cosmos knew thinkers existed, and they'd prepared too well. Cells were in place. Groups operated without informing one another. They only dealt in cash and they were well supported by infiltrators, traitors, sympathizers, and even thinkers.

The recent Phantom Pain attacks confirmed it. The gears were in motion. I couldn't stop the attacks from happening.

What I could do, was attack back.

And if I was going to strike, then I was going to take the head off the fucking snake.

"Start with Muruta Azrael and we'll work our way down."