Chapter 8-Interlude 2
Knowledge is power.
These three words define the general strategy of most cape fights. Ultimately, success comes down to bringing the right powers and tools to a battle. For Tinkers like Armsmaster, this maxim was even more important. For him, bludgeoning his way through the opposition was rarely an option. After all, without the right gadgets, he was little more than an ordinary man. A well-trained and equipped one in the peak of physical condition, but still a man.
A man who was perfectly susceptible to the damnable virus that he was working on. In spite of all his efforts, he was still no closer to a vaccine or a cure. Nothing that could reverse the monstrous transformation of its victims. The best he could do was a neutralization device that could slow its spread in a small radius around it. Even for that, he needed Dragon's help and the Corpus's research. Still, something was better than nothing. At least he had something to show for his damn headache.
No, Armsmaster couldn't allow himself to think like that. He was better than this, dammit! He should be better than this. He was the head of Brockton Bay's Protectorate and the second-best Tinker in the world. Why couldn't he find a solution for this?
"Colin?" Dragon shook him out of his thoughts.
"Sorry, just thinking."
"Glaring at the samples won't make the answers come to you any faster."
Armsmaster frowned. She was right, of course. She usually was. "I know. It's just… I don't like being beaten. I'm the miniaturization Tinker. This should be right up my alley. I need to cure this thing, and soon. Lives are at stake."
That wasn't even the worst part. The longer curing this thing took, the more time Kaiser and his cronies had to take over the city. Ultimately, this mess was just a distraction from his real work. The supervillains weren't going to sit idle while he played doctor. Armsmaster had hoped to capitalize on the ABB's unexpected defeat and give his career the boost it needed, but with this virus taking up his time and the Wards having been taken away, it became increasingly unlikely that the city would improve at all.
"Not just lives, is it?" Of course, Dragon saw right through him. Always did.
"Nobody wants Kaiser to take over the city, Dragon."
"I'm just hoping you don't do anything rash."
"We're on a time limit, in case you haven't noticed. Brockton Bay can't deal with an epidemic on top of its other problems." He immediately regretted saying that. Not the content, but the tone. Social interaction had never been his strong suit and he had ruined friendships before by saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. His partnership with Dragon was something he didn't want to lose.
"Colin…" She said, slowly. "This virus scares me. Seriously scares me. The Corpus crippled this thing and it still looks like something Bonesaw would unleash if she felt like destroying a city. I can't even imagine what its original form is capable of."
"The ancestral strains are not a concern, Dragon. According to the Corpus's files, they were destroyed. Alad may be insane, but even he knows better. Keeping something that dangerous is in no one's interest, not even his. If he were crazy enough to hold onto it, he'd have an army of assassins, and probably a few of your suits, chasing after him."
Dragon smiled softly, but her face soon hardened. "He could have been lying. Kid Win's report suggests that he expected the base to fall into our hands. Any data you found is suspect at best."
"True, but I can't think of any reason why he'd hold on to it. Alad might not follow the unwritten rules, but letting something this dangerous loose out of spite would be idiotic, even by his standards. It's asking for a kill-order."
"There is always a possibility that Alad doesn't fully understand what the virus is capable of."
"He did manage to cripple it, Dragon. Thoroughly. He couldn't have done that unless he understood, at least to some extent, how it worked. As far as I can tell, the core programming has been significantly altered. Particularly the codes that regulate the viral particles' replication systems. I'm not saying it's harmless, but with the measures we've taken thus far, I doubt it'll become the S-class plague it could have been."
Dragon didn't look convinced. "Alterations can be reversed. Alad's people made only 36 changes to the coding and the virus mutates almost like a living thing. It's just a matter of time until it reaches its full lethality again."
"The probability of that happening is smaller than I can calculate. One or two corrections, yes, but all 36? Impossible. Not without directed intervention by someone else."
The other Tinker frowned. "Have you seen the results experiment 7-delta-R? Expose one sample of converted tissue to an electrical stimulus and one right next to it shows a reaction. I think there is some sort of communication between the viral particles when bonded to host tissue, even when they are part of two different organisms. Almost like a neural network or a hive mind. Not to mention experiment 18-gamma-Q, the full body conversion."
That last one was sickening, even to Armsmaster. That said, it was an excellent demonstration of what this thing was really capable of. At its full power, the plague was supposed to rapidly transform its victims while connecting them with some sort of hive-mind, but the Corpus had stripped that ability as well. "While I can't deny that there's some form of both intra- and inter-host communication, I'm not convinced it's much of an issue. Given the instability of the converted tissue, I'd be very surprised if this virus is more intelligent than the average mosquito, let alone able to turn someone without extensive outside help."
"Unless it's really intelligent and low-balling its true capabilities. Wouldn't be the strangest thing either of us have seen."
Armsmaster scowled. "A fact I'm very well aware of."
"Then there's everything else." Dragon continued. "How does the virus convert host tissue? Why is Banshee still alive when every cell in her body is infected? How are she and the virus related? We know so little about it."
An alarm went off. "Well, we'll have more samples soon enough. We're going to breach Alad's lab in fifteen minutes. Hopefully, we'll get some more answers."
"Are you sure it's safe, Colin?"
"Our job never is, which is why we're wearing hazmat suits. I'm also bringing my entire team, along with the neutralizing device, just in case we run into any surprises. We'll be fine, Dragon. I've taken every precaution I could." As an afterthought, he mentioned: "Thanks, though, for caring."
She smiled in response. "You're welcome. Stay safe." The monitor shut down and Armsmaster was alone again. Time to start packing. He put on his armor and attached a rebreather to his helmet. His suit itself could easily be made air-tight, just for situations like this. He also created an outer layer that diffused heat, making it less susceptible to Corpus energy weapons. In theory, anyway. There hadn't been much time to test it.
With his tools in hand, he rounded up his entire team. Considering how their previous engagement with the Corpus went, Armsmaster wasn't about to take chances. Taking the entirety of Protectorate ENE was probably overkill for what couldn't be more than half a dozen men with Tinkertech, but he'd rather be safe than sorry.
He even brought Red along. Technically, she wasn't part of the Protectorate (yet, if Armsmaster had anything to say about it), but the chance to take another heavy hitter with him was something he couldn't resist. God knows his team needed more people on the front line. Besides, Red should earn her keep, just like everyone else. Even the woman herself agreed with that.
"Our task here is to clear out the laboratory the Corpus gang left behind." Armsmaster told his people. "Due to the risk of biological contaminants, we will all be wearing NBC-cleared costumes for the duration of this mission. Additional countermeasures have been put in place to minimize the danger, but I request that you be careful nonetheless."
"What kind of opposition will we face?" Miss Militia asked.
"We estimate that there's approximately half a dozen Corpus soldiers left. However, because the lab is built inside an old bunker deep underground, we can't be sure. Assume that the enemy will be hostile and ready for us. If they aren't, don't take any chances. We have seen what these people can do when we hesitate. Anything else?"
Dauntless raised his hand. "What exactly do you mean by 'biological contaminants'?"
Armsmaster frowned. Knowing what was in there wouldn't help. In fact, it'd only make his people worry about things that they can't control anyway. Nevertheless, the question was asked and not answering would be even worse. "The Corpus were working on some sort of metamorphic virus that can rapidly convert organic tissue into more of itself. Considering that the base has been without power for quite some time, there is a possibility that the virus may have escaped containment. However, we will be wearing hazmat suits and I have built a device that should render airborne concentrations of the virus harmless."
"So, metamorphic virus…You mean like a zombie plague?" Assault said. "'Cause it kinda sounds like a zombie plague."
"Considering the nature of the virus, the term 'zombie plague' would be quite applicable."
"You're kidding."
"No."
His team looked a lot more worried than they did before. Goddammit Dauntless. Why couldn't that idiot just keep his mouth shut?
"I don't suppose we could tunnel to an adjacent universe, right?"
In an effort to salvage team morale, Armsmaster added: "As I said, Dragon and I have developed a device that specifically inhibits the virus's ability to affect organic tissues. If it works as well as it did in the lab, we should be fine." He neglected to mention where the technology had come from or that neither Insight nor Panacea had much faith in the device. Then again, what did either of them really know about Tinkertech, anyway?
The team didn't look much better, but it was something. Enough that Armsmaster decided to move out. When they were within five minutes of their destination, he called the PRT agents stationed at the remains of the Corpus base.
"Report."
"Nothing special, sir. No sign of the enemy and the sensors aren't picking up anything either. Just the locals looking a bit off." The trooper replied. "All got this weird thousand-yard stare to them. Creepy."
"Very well. Carry on."
"Are you sure about this?" Miss Militia whispered to him.
Armsmaster frowned. His second-in-command rarely questioned his orders in the field. "This laboratory is a ecological disaster waiting to happen. We have to take it down sooner rather than later."
"I was talking about Red. She's made great progress, but I'm not sure bringing her here is a good idea. In case you've forgotten, she sort of has an axe to grind with the Corpus."
Ah, that. He'd been expecting a question like that. "It's a test for her. I want to recruit her, but I need to know if she's able to work with us. Consider it stress-testing. If she can handle this without an emotional meltdown, she'll be ready to join the Protectorate."
Miss Militia frowned like she usually did when she thought he was being to callous with the people under his command. "She's not one of your halberds, Armsmaster. Putting her on the spot like this isn't right."
"Maybe not, but it's the only way to be sure. Besides, what's the worst that could happen? There are no civilians present underground and the Corpus are two steps from a kill-order anyway. If she snaps, we can stop her before anything of value is lost." The team had arrived at the lower floor. Armsmaster inspected the lock on the blast door separating them from the lab. "There's something wrong with the mechanism. I'm going to have to cut it open. Stand back." He hefted his halberd and switched on the blow torch module. A white-hot plume emerged from the tip. Satisfied, he sliced a man-sized hole in the door. "Red, push it open."
The other parahuman nodded and pushed the slab of metal through. What he found inside defied all his expectations.
The lab itself was a mess. All the equipment looked trashed, including the devices that looked like containment cells for whatever they were studying there. There was no sign of the Corpus themselves. Instead, he found things that looked like clams and sponges. Grey and red organic looking growths covered the floor. Swarms of orange particulates wafted through the air. There was a large tumor-like pile in the corner which looked like a Corpus soldier had melted on the spot. What the hell were the Corpus working on? Why did he felt like something was watching them?
Armsmaster steeled himself and stepped through. He had a job to do, after all. He carefully collected a few of the clam-things for further analysis.
Dauntless was the first to find his voice again. "Okay. Not what I expected."
"What is this stuff?" Triumph said, trying his best not to step on anything.
"A good question. Here's a better one: where did all the mass come from? There weren't enough Corpus soldiers to make this much. Either the virus can generate biomass out of thin air or it found another source. I don't like the implications."
The team cautiously investigated the room. The all-pervasive sense of dread never went away.
"Red? Red, are you alright?" Miss Militia asked. "I know it's hard being here but…"
"The Corpus are not my concern. Not anymore." Red snapped back. "Judging by that poor soul in the corner, they already got what they deserve."
"You know what this is, don't you?" Armsmaster asked. If being here had jogged Red's memory, who knows what mysteries she might be able to solve.
"I…I'm not sure. The memory is like water; every time I try to take hold of it, it slips through my fingers, but…I think we should leave. Leave and burn this place."
"Probably won't help." Dauntless called out from the other side of the room. "I found a tunnel that's not on the map. It's covered with goop just like the rest of the place. Setting off a bomb here won't be enough."
"Agreed." Armsmaster said, gruffly. "We need to find out where it leads. If we start blowing up rooms, who knows what kind of collateral damage we might cause."
The team shivered. Eventually, Assault asked: "So, who wants to go down the creepy tunnel first?"
"Afraid of the dark, Assault?" Battery teased back. She kicked over a few of the clam-things before saying: "It's not like these things are doing anything. We'll be fine."
Assault looked at his wife with feigned shock in his eyes. "You did not just say that."
"Say what?"
Armsmaster wanted to interfere, but he knew better than to try. You didn't control someone like Assault, you managed him. He could let the man have his fun. Letting Assault make a few jokes often helped team morale, especially in situations like these. Battery would keep him in line if it went too far.
"Puppy, have you ever watched a horror movie? Like, any of them? You never say 'everything's gonna be fine'. That's like covering yourself in barbeque sauce and taking a dip in a pool full of sharks."
"This isn't a movie, sweetie."
"Seriously? Look around: abandoned lab, scientists vanished without a trace, meat moss growing all over the walls. We're totally in a horror movie. We should have brought DeShawn and Clockblocker with us."
"I'm going to regret asking, but why?"
Assault looked at her like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Standard horror cliché number one: Black dude dies first. So, we take a black dude, have Clockblocker freeze him so he can't get hurt and the rest of us will be fine."
"Your logic is infallible, Assault." Battery deadpanned. "Now shut up or you're sleeping on the couch tonight."
"Yes ma'm."
Finally, Armsmaster had enough. "Velocity, scout ahead. You see anything, run back. Don't take any chances."
The speedster nodded and went on his way. He'd…
You should not exist.
Armsmaster froze on the spot. He felt a presence in his mind, like a soft pressure in the back of his skull. What the hell was that?
"Am I the only one who…"
"No, Assault, you're not." Battery interrupted.
"Good, cause, you know, this whole mess isn't creepy enough."
What was that voice? It wasn't a voice in the conventional sense. Armsmaster hadn't heard anything, at least, not with his ears. Rather, it was like a collection of thoughts, coalescing into words. "Telepathy. We're dealing with a telepath."
"Oh, great." Assault scoffed. He tried to appear aloof, but even Armsmaster knew that he was scared out of his wits. "So we're dealing with the zombie-Simurgh. Anyone else think we should just run like hell? My vote's still on the adjacent universe thing."
It wasn't the Simurgh. Armsmaster had fought that monster before, and what he was feeling right now wasn't like it. "We're not running. Whatever is down there, we can't let it run free. We take it in or take it out. Do you…"
So quick to turn to violence. Our old enemy has not changed.
Armsmaster looked to his teammates. They were hearing it too. He gritted his teeth. This was arguably the worst possible situation for him to be in: squaring off against a potentially hostile cape with unknown powers. There was no way of telling if his team could even beat this thing.
On the other hand, running wasn't an option. They were the Protectorate and this was their job. At the very least, they should press on and gather intel.
Before he could give the order, Miss Militia spoke up. "We're not your enemies. My associates and I are part of the Protectorate, an organization founded to help people like you integrate into society."
You are not like us. We are not like you.
"Please, we just want to help."
Then cease your pointless struggle and let us fulfill our function. We know what you are, usurper. We have seen what the taint does to the worlds you desecrate. Flesh against Flesh, fields of ash, an entire civilization reduced to cycles of bloodshed. You are a breach in the Void and a danger to life everywhere. You must be stopped.
Armsmaster scowled. Whoever was speaking, he clearly had a chip on his shoulder. "Look, we don't want to fight you. We're heroes. We protect people."
How can you protect anything, when you are the very danger the world must be protected from? Even in this place, we can see it. Our brothers had vanquished this taint, and yet, it returned. Meat torn from ancient bones, seasoned in blood. A final insult to the long dead. It may come from a different source, but the taint is the same.
He took a deep breath and tried to remember his training. Dealing with new capes was always a challenge. He just had to be patient. "Let's try and find a peaceful resolution to this problem. What do you want us to do?"
Die.
Suddenly, the presence disappeared. So much for diplomacy.
"Well, that was ominous." Dauntless quipped. Then, Velocity appeared in front of them.
"Sir, we have a problem. The tunnel leads to a larger network. It stretches for much of the block and it's infested with creatures. There's about fifty of them coming right for us."
"Fifty of what?" Armsmaster demanded.
"Zombies, sir. I don't know what else to call them. They're like the love-children of a human and one of these clam-things, can't tell if they're converted humans or a Master's creations. Some of them walk on two legs, others on four. All of them are pissed, though. I don't know what happened, but we really stirred the hornets' nest." Suddenly, an inhuman screech sounded from the tunnel. "Oh, and they're fast too."
Armsmaster turned on his motion sensor and it immediately lit up like a Christmas tree. Velocity was right: the tunnel was crawling with those things and they were closing in fast. Too fast to outrun. Too many to fight. Worse, there were more signatures surrounding them. The creatures were probably trying to create another entrance. "Guess we'll have to hold them off, then. Velocity, did you…"
Before he could finish speaking, the monsters poured out of the hole. Immediately, his team jumped into action. They huddled together, using their powers to keep the creatures at bay while throwing up a barrier of containment foam. For now, they seemed to be holding them back.
Then a large, tree-like creature tore through the wall and threw a grappling hook at Battery. It took hold of her leg and dragged the screaming woman into the oncoming horde. Miss Militia shot the creature with a high-powered sniper rifle while Red pulled her back with a grappling hook of her own. Armsmaster tried putting the creature down with a taser, but to no avail.
The Tinker swore under his breath and charged. Protocol said to take them in alive, but the creatures left him little choice. He brought his halberd down on the nearest creature he saw and cut it in half. To his shock, the front half kept crawling towards him. Armsmaster swung his halberd again, this time through the skull. It didn't get up again. Another creature jumped him, sending the Tinker sprawling onto the ground. He got back on his feet and stabbed it in the eye with a blade hidden in his glove.
The next one was hit with a taser at full power, stunning it for a moment, long enough for Red to grab it by its malformed head and shove her claws into its throat. She spared him a moment's glance before tearing into the next one.
"Armsmaster! The civvies have gone feral. I need to pull out, there's too many of them."
"Negative, hold your ground. We can contain this."
"Like hell we can. You got five minutes to get up here, or there won't be a PRT team left to save your sorry ass."
Miss Militia had traded her rifle for a grenade launcher and fired into the crowd. More holes appeared in the barrier as other tree-creatures started breathing some sort of green, corrosive gas onto it. The heroes were holding them off the best they could, but it was becoming clear that it wasn't enough. There were too many and the creatures were tough enough to warrant low-to-mid ranged brute ratings. As much as Armsmaster didn't want to admit it, his team was outmatched.
They needed to pull back and return once he'd developed the proper tools to deal with this threat.
"Everyone, fighting retreat!"
Armsmaster's team didn't question his orders. One-by-one, they pulled back, covering each other as they withdrew. Only Red stayed behind, too occupied with ripping the monsters apart.
"Red! Get over here!"
The parahuman's glare met his for an instant. Then, she turned around and screamed, stunning the monsters in front of her. Some variation of Banshee's sonic pulse ability? The Tinker filed the thought away for later. Red was already through the door.
"Militia, seal the passageway!"
The heroine produced a massive rocket launcher and fired at the ceiling. Soon, the laboratory collapsed and the rest of the horde was beneath the rubble. They were safe, for the moment. With the PRT being overrun above, though, that wouldn't last long.
"That won't hold them for long." Miss Militia admitted as they were running to the trucks. "It's only a matter of time until they cut through the debris."
"I know."
"Assuming they don't simply take the other way around like the ones attacking the troopers." She turned around and fired another rocket at the ceiling, collapsing the room behind them.
"I know."
"Then what are we supposed to do? There must be nearly a hundred of them in total, and that's just after a few days. I thought you said this wouldn't happen."
"I was wrong!" Armsmaster snapped back. "I was wrong. That happens. Right now, we go back, gather more intelligence, and figure out a new plan of attack." The moment he left the building, PRT vans came screaming through the streets, followed by a small army of the creatures. "Alright, everyone inside. Go!"
Militia fired another flurry of grenades into the crowd, thinning the enemy ranks, but not enough to disperse them. "What the hell does it take to kill these things?" She muttered mostly to herself.
When everyone was on board, the driver sped off and started racing back to PRT's headquarters. "Director's orders, sir. Taking us right back." She said.
Armsmaster grumbled and turned back to his team. Now that the adrenalin was fading, he noticed that they weren't in good shape. Cuts and gashes, mostly, but some more serious injuries too. Velocity was helping Dauntless with his dislocated shoulder. Assault had a massive gash across his chest. If it had been an inch deeper, he would have been disemboweled. Triumph and Miss Militia looked relatively unscathed, at least on the outside. His own armor was a mess too. He could repair it, but that would take up a considerable amount of time.
Then, there was Battery, lying on the floor and screaming in pain. Looking at her leg, he could see why: the wound had become infected and the tissue around it was slowly transforming. At least the change happened much slower than it did in the lab. Apparently, the Corpus device was working.
"Battery? Battery, listen to me. The wound on your leg has become infected with the virus. It will keep spreading until it's taken over your entire body. Right now, the only thing I can do for you is amputate the leg and pray it hasn't gotten into your bloodstream. Do you understand what I have to do to you?"
Battery slowly nodded. Assault leaned over and said: "Hey, it's okay. Just look at me. I'm here, puppy. It's gonna be alright."
Armsmaster raised his halberd and cut off the leg. Ignoring his teammate's screams and the shocked faces of everyone around him, he cauterized the wound with his weapon's blowtorch module. Halfway through, Battery passed out from the pain. A small mercy, considering what she's been through. He briefly inspected what was left of her leg. It seemed to be clean, but he couldn't be sure. Panacea would have to check.
In the mean time, he'd need more manpower to contain the crisis. "Wards Console. Come in. I repeat, Wards Console, come in."
The reply came almost immediately. Good. Banshee was taking monitor duty seriously. "Console here."
"Recall all the Wards immediately. On duty, off duty, all of them."
"Of course, sir. What's going-"
He cut off the connection, just as the vans drove into the PRT building.
"Whatever happens, just hold on, puppy." Assault pleaded. "Just hold on. Help's on the way, okay? Please don't die on me. Please…I can't lose you. You make it worth it. You make everything worth it. Please…"
As Armsmaster stepped out of the van, a furious director stormed towards him.
"Armsmaster, what have you done?! I'm getting reports of these…things all over the city. Hundreds of them. They're running around, ripping apart anything they can find. My men are barely holding the line as it is. What did you do?" Renick bellowed. "This was supposed to be a simple clean-up."
"Resistance was heavier than anticipated. I did not realize the infected retained stability for as long as they did." What else was there to say? Without that stability, the creatures wouldn't have lived long enough to be a threat.
He was wrong. Dear God, he was so very wrong.
"You said the virus was crippled already! Virtually harmless! Now, look at what happened!"
"Director, I won't deny that the creatures were much more powerful than we anticipated but we can still stop them. We have identified their leader and the strengths and weaknesses of the various strains. If we call in some reinforcements, I can lead a team…"
"It's already out of my hands, Armsmaster. Quarantine has just been enacted and Washington is clamoring for a purge. Unless you can pull a miracle out of your ass, we're going to have to evacuate."
"That won't be necessary. Like I said, we can stop this. I just need more manpower and…"
"We won't get more manpower!" The director screamed. "The higher-ups won't send more people into the city until they know for sure it won't make the problem worse. Hell, I just had to talk Costa-Brown out of nuking the city. I…" Renick calmed himself, if only barely. "We have forty-eight hours. Not a nanosecond more. If the situation hasn't improved by then, the city is doomed. Do you understand?"
"Sir, I want to save this city as much as you do."
The director snorted. "Then find me a solution and do it fast. Take whatever you need just…hurry. Clock's ticking."
Renick stormed off, leaving him in the middle of a crowd of people desperately looking for answers. Answers he didn't have.
Yet.
He would fix this. Armsmaster didn't know how, but he'd find a way. Brockton Bay wasn't going to burn on his watch. He had a goal now. He was going to destroy that virus or die trying.