Chapter 5-8

The next hour was spent following Red around while Miss Militia and the good doctor told her everything she wanted to know. Whatever doubt I had of Red faking her amnesia quickly disappeared. She really didn't know anything at all about Earth Bet, even things that you should know just by being alive. If someone told me she was from another planet, I wouldn't have bat an eyelash. Nevertheless, I didn't really know what to make of her. Her power was just…odd. Somehow, she had armor just like mine. No, identical to mine. It didn't look the same, though I couldn't tell how much of that was the result of Alad's tinkering, but it seemed to function in a similar way. If Panacea would have a look at her, I'd put money on her saying that Red's got the same nanites I do. I don't know how I knew this, but I just did. It made me uneasy.

Sure, having similar powers wasn't entirely unheard of. Fenja and Menja, Kaiser's valkyrie-themed bodyguards, had identical powers, but they were supposed to be twins. New Wave's Pelham family all had some variation of light, flight, and forcefields, but once again, they were closely related. As far as I knew, Red and I were not. She might not remember her past, but I certainly did. Our family was small and I knew for a fact that I didn't have a long-lost older sister or cousin somewhere.

So why do we have the same power? Was it just dumb luck? Had the army of monkeys finally managed to type up the works of Shakespeare?

Too much to think about.

"I hate to say it, but the Boxheads just aren't very high on our priority list." Miss Militia said, apologetically. "I know it's hard to see from your perspective, but there are worse people out there, Red, worse than a crazed Tinker. Besides, when we do hunt him down, we want him alive. Don't take this the wrong way, but I don't think there'll be anything left of their leader after you're done with him."

Red glared furiously at the heroine and clenched her fists. I put my hand on her shoulder, which seemed to calm her down, if only a little. "If you say so. Why do you call me 'Red'?"

"Well, because your armor is…well…red." At least Miss Militia had the decency of looking a little embarrassed. "I know, it's kind of silly, but I've got to call you something. If you don't like the name…"

"Names are a meaningless string of syllables designed to distinguish one human from another. What you call me is irrelevant. 'Red' will be fine."

The doctor smirked. "Well, that's one way of looking at it…"

Red. I suppose calling her that doesn't make much sense without the armor, given that there was nothing red about her. She was very tall, with unnaturally pale skin, blue eyes, and shaved brown hair. Strangely enough, she didn't have much in the way of scars, aside from the horrible-looking wounds where the devices enter her body. I guess her body heals them just like mine does. Her build was vaguely catlike, graceful and athletic. If I had to compare her to anyone I'd met so far, I'd say she most closely resembles Sophia, of all people. That said, the two carried themselves completely differently, which is probably why I hadn't made the comparison sooner. Sophia was aggressive, predatory, and sadistic. Red, on the other hand, was cautious and in spite of our best efforts, suspicious and afraid, even if she did try to hide it.

It made me wonder what Sophia would have been like if someone tortured her. Would she break and become a completely different person? Would she actually become tolerable?

Nah, she'd probably get off on it or something.

I excused myself soon afterwards. Red didn't seem happy to see me go, but honestly, I'm sure she'll be fine. She was in good company, after all, and while I don't mind helping her, the last thing I need is someone developing a fixation on me. Besides, if I don't get something in my stomach right now, I'll probably keel over. When was the last time I had something to eat? Dinner last night, I think. Not being able to eat while in costume was really inconvenient.

I put on my civilian clothes and sat down in the break room with a big bowl of cereal and a mug of coffee. In spite of my nap, I was still tired. Well, at least I could catch up tomorrow, unless something horrible happened in the mean time. Not like I had that much to do. Eh, maybe I'd pop by, see how Red's doing. Yeah, that's a good idea.

"Seriously, breakfast at three in the afternoon?" Dennis bellowed. Great, just what I needed. "Taylor, Taylor, Taylor…Partying all night? I thought you knew better than that."

Carlos was right behind him, looking very displeased with his second-in-command. "That 'party' got seven people killed, Dennis. Show some fucking respect, you insensitive dick."

Dennis turned pale almost immediately. "It did? Seven? But…oh, crap. I just got here. I didn't know…I'm so sorry."

"It's fine." I replied, a little more angrily than I would have liked. "Don't apologize to me. Apologize to the grieving families."

Before Dennis could say anything else, Carlos said: "In all seriousness, though, is everything alright?"

I leaned back in my chair and sighed. "Well, the dead aren't coming back, so no, not everything's alright. We sent the Boxheads running, though. Plus, we managed to rescue a woman they've been experimenting on and got some good intel on the group's capabilities, so I suppose that's a good thing."

"If you can call a villainous Tinker 8 a good thing…" Carlos muttered.

"But at least we know how screwed we are if we run into them again. Knowledge is power, after all, and maybe we can stop them without losing people the next time."

"I guess…But Taylor, that's not what I meant. Are you all right?"

Was I alright? Good question. "I'm alive and unhurt, so I'm not complaining."

"I meant mentally, are you alright?"

"Carlos…"

He held up his hand. "Let me finish. I just talked to Velocity when I came in. When saw you last night, you were covered in blood. When asked about it, you said, I quote: 'Umm, it's not mine'."

Dennis couldn't hide his surprise. "You're shitting me." I couldn't quite tell if he was impressed, amused, or horrified. Not sure which one I wanted it to be either.

"I'm not." Carlos replied before turning back to me. "Look, Taylor, I think you might be a little in shock." I nodded. It had crossed my mind, after all. "Seeing people die, even bad people…You don't just walk that off. It's not something you should take lightly."

"Carlos, if I was in shock, I shouldn't be feeling anything, right? I feel relief that we got Red out in one piece. I feel bad for the troopers that died and their families. Honestly, I don't think I'm in shock. Does being in shock even work like that? Anyway, yeah, I don't feel bad about being covered in someone else's blood. I don't feel bad about the villains getting shot either. They tried to kill us. We defended ourselves. End of story. I just don't see what's left to discuss."

"That's even…never mind, it doesn't matter." He sighed, sounding like my dad sometimes would when he tried to get a point across but couldn't bring himself to argue anymore. "You are going to talk to an adult about this."

"Carlos…"

"That's an order. Death is serious business and you're not shrugging it off."

"Speaking of crazy people…" Dennis interrupted. I ignored the not-so-subtly hidden remark. "I heard that they're giving Tattletale the grand tour later today."

Carlos sighed, probably annoyed that Dennis completely derailed the conversation. "Tattletale's gone into retirement. Rather, we're giving Sarah Livsey…"

"I thought her name was Lisa…"

"Assumed name. Her real name is Sarah, and we're going to be giving her the grand tour later today. Or rather, I will be, since I'm team captain and that's sort of my responsibility." Carlos shot an annoyed glare in Dennis's direction. "Laugh it up, Dennis. You'll be team captain soon enough."

"You know that won't mean he's going to act like it, right?" I said, shoving a spoonful of corn flakes into my mouth.

"All too well, but at least he won't be my problem anymore. Anyway, like we agreed earlier, we're going to pretend we trust her, which means not wearing our costumes."

"Like it would make any difference." Dennis snorted. "What, she's like, super-Sherlock, or something, right? She'd figure out our secret identities in minutes anyway, along with the fact that some of us don't like her very much."

"Nevertheless, we're going to give Sarah a warm welcome and find a way to make this all work. Understood?"

"Yes, boss." Dennis replied in defeat. I guess he still wasn't happy about it.

"Good. Rest of the gang's coming soon. We'll meet in thirty minutes in the conference room." Carlos nodded and walked off.

"Still can't believe you and Dean talked me into this…" Dennis muttered.

"You mean how Dean and I got you to stop pissing and moaning about something we can't change?"

"Yeah, that. What's the point of bad orders if you don't get to piss and moan about them? I mean, that's my whole appeal! Without my pissing and moaning, I'd be…"

"Tolerable?" I offered.

"And how terrible would that be?" He exclaimed, hoisting his arms into the air. "A guy named Clockblocker who isn't a pain in the ass? They'll give me responsibilities. They'll make me do stuff. I might actually get something done for once."

"The horror." I deadpanned.

"Just think about it: wherever would we be without me dragging us down?"

"Good point. A nice and peaceful Brockton Bay is truly a terrifying thought. In all seriousness, though, be nice to Tattletale, okay? She's not Kaiser."

Dennis shook his head. "I don't know, Taylor. I still think we're going to regret this. Anyway, have a nice breakfast. At three o'clock in the afternoon. Sleepyhead."

I sent him off with a one-fingered salute. Dennis is an ass, but there are worse people to have as a teammate.

As promised, we all gathered in the conference room, sans costume. While we were chatting and having small talk like usual, I could tell that most of us were feeling more than a little agitated. Part of me felt sorry for Tattletale. She wasn't going to get a warm welcome here.

"Just so that you know beforehand," I heard Carlos say down the hall "we've had some bad experiences with probationary Wards in the past. They're going to be slow to trust you."

"Which basically means that they'll hate my guts. Figures." Tattletale, or Sarah, replied with a snort. "Lemme guess: Shadow Stalker? Don't act surprised. Wards don't get reassigned without warning unless they screwed the pooch somehow."

"I am not at liberty to say anything about that. I also recommend not trying to live up to your old cape name. I don't know how the villains do it, but around here, it won't win you any friends."

"Fair enough. So what's your opinion?"

"On you?" Carlos asked. "I believe in second chances. I don't believe in thirds. Don't screw up."

Then, the door opened and the two stepped through. I had to do a double-take when I saw Tattletale without her costume. She seemed about a year older than I was, with long, blond hair tied in a pony-tail. She also looked nothing like the supervillainess I apprehended a couple of days ago. I knew it was her from her voice, but still… I never realized that a simple domino mask, some make-up, and a different hairstyle could change someone's appearance this much.

"Wards, meet your new teammate." Carlos said. "Sarah, the Wards."

We were all quiet for a moment. I guess nobody wanted to make the first move. Not even me, as I quickly realized. I shook my head. Being her most vocal supporter, it only made sense that it'd be me who…

"Hello Sarah. I'm Browbeat," John said, having bulked up a little with his power. Some sort of intimidation tactic? No, he was being too nice for that. "But you may call me John. I'm looking forward to working with you."

Huh. Didn't he hate the idea of having Tattletale on board? Now that I thought about it, she was quite good looking, wasn't she? Did John…Yes, he did. The smirk on everyone else's face confirmed my suspicions.

It also confirmed that boys will be boys and that I'm a massive idiot. At least he was a good icebreaker.

Sarah looked mildly uncomfortable, like she was trying to suppress a grin. "Likewise. I prefer Lisa, if you don't mind."

John smiled in return. God, this was getting embarrassing. If nothing else, though, Sarah, or Lisa, didn't seem overly malicious at first glance. That's probably a good sign. I guess she was the more cultured variety of supervillain.

I stood up and said: "Hi, I'm Taylor. We already met in costume."

Lisa smiled wryly. "Yes, we have. Banshee, right? Guess I still owe you one for taking out Lung. Pleased to meet you under more…pleasant circumstances."

"Better than dragons and homicidal clowns…"

"Yeah, sorry about the clowns. Circus was a hired gun and gets a little angry sometimes, but she's got her uses. Hope you didn't stomp her too hard, right?"

"Well, I kind of broke her wrist…and her ribs…and maybe her eardrums too." I admitted. "But she did come after me with a knife and a hammer, so I guess she got what's coming to her. Wait, Circus is a she, right?"

"I'm…not sure, to be honest…"

"Wait, seriously?" Carlos asked incredulously. "You can tell someone's favorite brand of toothpaste from their toenail clippings, but you can't figure out a person's gender?"

Lisa shrugged sheepishly. Carlos started laughing, and soon the rest of us followed.

Yeah, we were going to get along just fine.