Chapter Forty-One: Cleanup on Aisle 14
April 10, 2011
Colin had dealt with a lot in his lifetime, both as a man and as a cape. So when his… when Fi had come to him and told him she'd accidentally discovered Coil's identity, he'd been willing to believe her. The parallels between Thomas Calvert and Coil were compelling, and he had faith in her word that she hadn't gone looking for the information on purpose. She gave him only an abbreviated explanation of how she'd stumbled on the damning evidence, but the exact details weren't relevant at that point.
He'd wonder later about the possibility that her "luck" in finding the information was orchestrated, after they saw how the encounter turned out.
Believing that Coil was a full-fledged time traveler? That was a little harder to buy. There was only one documented time traveler, and a myriad of powers that could mimic the effects. To a certain extent that's what precogs were, really. But once he realized that Fi needed to think of Coil in terms of a time traveler in order to take him seriously, he'd stopped protesting. It wasn't particularly relevant, in any case.
Suddenly, Fi was very much in support of his mandated two days of preparation for the confrontation with Coil. She grasped the idea of pre-establishing a preferential timeline immediately, and immediately described a technique she called informational nodes. The two plans fit together like puzzle pieces. They would prescribe certain pieces of information which would be nearly impossible for Coil to discover independently or verify, and only give that information up under certain predetermined circumstances.
It wouldn't help them capture Coil, like the timeline nodes would, but it would give them insight into how his power worked once the sting was done.
Outlining three days' worth of constantly-escalating circumstances went surprisingly quickly when your partner understood the necessity of planning for the worst even as you were hoping you didn't have to use it. The tactical decisions about what to keep from Clockblocker were also obvious to them both.
Spending the next two days in the shadows of the operation was surprisingly refreshing. As the Protectorate team leader, he'd spent the last several years either in the thick of action or in his lab, preparing mechanical solutions to new problems. He'd become accustomed to leaving tactical planning in the hands of Miss Militia, Dragon, and even the PRT captains he worked with, not because he wasn't good at it but because that was something they could do, whereas tinkering was something only he could do.
Out-maneuvering a thinker of unknown caliber was a challenge he welcomed, though the potential consequences weighed on him.
In the end, the plan had gone off as well as they could have possibly hoped. Armsmaster had sucked in a harsh breath when Coil called Contract "Sophie." Sophie wasn't her real name, and wasn't in any way associated with her. The only way he could have gotten that information is if the lie came from Contract herself.
Sophie must have been from an informational node; though Contract hadn't told Armsmaster about it, it made sense that she would have provided a way for herself to know if Coil had used his power to discover her name. How had Coil uncovered it? Had she confronted him in his own civilian identity? Did he know about the blackmail they had planted? Did he know Jason's identity?
Contract absorbed the information without breaking character. Armsmaster fed Vista the next number, and the unique nature of Dinah's power, filtered through Vista's ability to lie undetected, meant that Coil felt safe enough to demonstrate his probability manipulation. Armsmaster prepped the attack signal for 1:03 AM, while Contract played Coil's game with the quarter, drawing the encounter out while she waited for the flash.
From all appearances, they had managed to maintain the element of surprise, which he hadn't expected after hearing Coil call Contract by a civilian name, true or not.
Contract immediately closed quarters with Coil, the two of them fighting with short-range knives, while Armsmaster ordered the PRT squads that were currently running night drills in the docks to re-direct to the Wards' location.
He climbed on his motorcycle as he watched Contract wrestle Coil into a submission hold, then use him to threaten the suddenly-present Undersiders. The gambit didn't work, and in the melee that followed Armsmaster clearly heard the crunch of Coil dislocating his own shoulder to get away from Contract. Then her display went blank.
Armsmaster did not speed up, as he was already traveling at the fastest speed allowed by the terrain, traffic, and equipment on hand. He did not call for extra backup, as by the time they arrived the situation would be over one way or another. Instead, he waited with as much patience as possible while the Wards back in their base scrambled to find the best camera feed. They'd all been watching Contract's camera view since she was engaged with Coil, and now they were flipping through the PRT helmet and dash cams to find a better angle.
Finally, whoever was running the feed settled on one of the van's dash cameras just as Armsmaster turned down Lord's Street. It gave him a general idea of the layout of the battlefield. Hellhound's monstrosities were nearest the cargo doors; Grue's darkness was dissipating beyond them. A number of men were still struggling with Beetle's swarm near the center of the room. A pair of figures that might be Coil and Contract had just gone down in the far background of the camera shot, and were now struggling on the ground.
Vista got the dogs contained as Armsmaster turned from Lord's Street onto Equine, just blocks away from the warehouse. He roared through the broken doors, taking in the scene with his own eyes, but it was basically the same as the image. The fighting was done, more or less. He braked just as much as he needed to, to end up next to Contract, Coil, and Intrepid who was crouching next to them.
Contract looked up at him, her eyes unfocused and her mask in pieces. "I think I'm going to puke now," she slurred. Head trauma, he diagnosed, concussion or worse.
Then she made good on her threat, the heaving so violent it threw her to her hands and knees, so that she ended up crouched over the legs of the moaning Coil. Armsmaster used his halberd to discharge an electrical pulse through the villain, knocking him unconscious. Then he held out a hand to Contract. She stared at it a moment, before she understood the offer and let him pull her to her feet. Armsmaster stood up at the same time, dismounting his bike.
A girl who looked like Dinah Alcott and was therefore Vista was approaching with Tattletale and the PRT medic. "Look this way," the man demanded as he stepped into the ring of heroes. Contract was still looking up at Armsmaster dazedly. He pointed her towards the medic, since she couldn't hear his attempts to get her attention, and watched out of the corner of his eye as the man shined a light in her eyes. The rest of his attention he turned to Intrepid.
"Report."
"Bitch...I mean, Hellhound's dogs are trapped by Vista. Grue is tased, Regent and Circus are both foamed. Coil had nine other men with him, all apparently unpowered, and all foamed or trapped by spider silk." Intrepid glanced at Beetle as he said this, and she nodded decisively.
Vista took up the report next. "Grue has been seen by the medic and cuffed. Tattletale has surrendered quietly. She's formally requested sanctuary and a probationary hearing, and of course protective custody."
Armsmaster nodded; he'd expected that request, although he hadn't yet decided if he would recommend her for sanctuary. Protecting the girl while she was in direct danger from Coil was a much easier call than wiping away all her past crimes because Coil might still have people who answered to him.
Still, that would ultimately be for a panel to decide. His decision would have a great deal of weight with the board, but it wasn't a choice he had to make now. All he had to do for tonight was ensure she stayed safe.
"Sergeant Ripply," he called to one of the PRT officers who didn't appear to be doing anything at the moment. The man snapped to attention and stepped up. "Take Tattletale into custody. She is to be considered both a flight risk and at personal risk of attack. Log also her request for sanctuary. Read her the relevant rights and responsibilities."
By the time Tattletale was out of earshot, Contract had decided that she was finished with the medic. "You're kidding me, right?" her voice carried, partially as a function of its pitch and partially because she was speaking louder than necessary. "The bullet tore straight through, it's fine."
"Lieutenant Dale, what is Contract's status?" Armsmaster cut in. The medic answered exasperatedly.
"Obvious head trauma. A concussion at best, but she needs to be watched for possible hematoma or hemorrhage. Two broken ribs,"
"Cracked," Contract corrected a moment later, proving that she was reading his lips as he spoke. Dale didn't pause, only acknowledging the comment with a glance as he continued.
"A number of other bruises to the abdomen, with the associated risk of internal bleeding. Additionally, significant blood loss from her head wound and from a gunshot to the shoulder."
"It nicked my shoulder," she corrected again.
"She needs to go to the hospital as soon as the ambulance arrives," Dale finished.
"It's on its way," Armsmaster said, knowing that the Wards back at base would have put in the call as soon as the hostilities ceased and protocol allowed them to do so. He sent a message to Clockblocker to confirm and got an affirmative answer immediately.
Contract rolled her eyes, which would have been more convincing if Intrepid hadn't immediately had to reach over and grab her good arm to help her keep her balance.
"Why don't you sit down?" the Ward offered as soon as Contract was looking at him. She cocked her head, but was able to figure out what he'd said before he tried to repeat it.
"Sitting down is a really good way to faint when you stand up," she declared woozily. Her tone made Armsmaster nearly certain that it was the head trauma talking. It would be amusing if it wasn't indicative of a very worrying injury.
"Check on Coil," Armsmaster order Dale as he waved over two other officers so that he could give them detailed instructions for how, precisely, to contain the villain.
A message from Clockblocker informed Armsmaster that Dinah Alcott had been safely recovered from her hide-away, which explained Beetle's distraction. At the risk of keeping Dinah within Coil's sphere of influence, he'd told Contract to have Beetle keep her within the range of the girl's bugs so that they could keep an eye on her. Dinah Alcott had wandered up to one of the PRT officers on perimeter duty and was now being escorted to the huddle of heroes.
Armsmaster turned toward Intrepid in the moments before she arrived. "Ride with Contract to the hospital and stay with her until I relieve you."
Then he turned to deal with the matters which no one else could handle, and trusted Intrepid to deal with his ward.
At Armsmaster's insistence, Coil was transported directly to the PRT holding facility after receiving only field-level medical treatment. He had also ordered Panacea contacted directly, unwilling to risk letting Coil escape in the looser security of a hospital. When he pulled into the loading bay behind the PRT van that had transported the prisoner, he found Piggot and Eidolon waiting instead.
"Armsmaster, you better have a good goddamn reason for waking me up at two in the morning," his director growled.
Armsmaster didn't answer her immediately, keeping a sharp eye on Coil as the two PRT officers who were handcuffed to him pulled his drugged body out of the van.
"Why is he sedated?" she demanded, and without waiting for a reply she continued, "and why did you have personnel running drills in the Graveyard on last minute notice?"
"Coil is a high-level Thinker," Armsmaster reported succinctly. "He has been responsible not only for his own crimes in Brockton Bay, but has also paid and blackmailed others into committing crimes on his behalf. On Tuesday afternoon, a Ward was approached by one of Coil's victims. She had reason to believe that Coil had spies operating in the PRT. I authorized a one-week closed investigation to examine the possibility. You see the results." He gestured to Coil's unconscious form.
A muscle in Piggot's jaw was ticking, but she understood the priorities in such a situation. "Put him under master/stranger protocols," she ordered.
"I strongly recommend we keep him sedated as well," Armsmaster told her. "It is possible, though unlikely, that he is actually a time traveler. More likely and almost as worrying is that he can manipulate probability. Whatever his power is, his spies have operated within the PRT for eight and half years without being detected."
She nodded sharply, and Lieutenant Dale nodded back, accepting the order. "Before you take him," Eidolon said, stepping forward hesitantly with his hand out. Piggot waved him on, and Eidolon touched Coil's costume. Green light washed over them both, presumably healing Coil though he didn't come out of his sedation.
Eidolon paused, his body language hesitant, as his hand hovered just over Coil's arm. "Is there any reason to believe that Coil might have been in contact with Nilbog?"
Piggot stiffened up, her entire demeanor sharpening. She, more than anyone, understood the level of threat implied by the idea that someone might have slipped in and out of the perimeter around Ellisberg. "What do you mean?"
Eidolon shrugged, lowering his hand very slowly. "I have tried to heal some of Nilbog's victims, in the past. They are beyond any of my healing powers, but they all carry similar markers. Markers present in Coil."
"He might be an original survivor?" Armsmaster speculated, judging that this is a guess he might have made even if he didn't already known it was true.
"If he isn't, he's been in contact with and is possibly aiding an S-class threat," Eidolon countered. "We can't take any risks when it comes to Nilbog, particularly because we can't deal with him. He's untouchable."
"What are you suggesting?" Director Piggot asked with deadly calm. Eidolon didn't answer immediately, perhaps intimidated by the force of her presence.
"We need to know if he's an original survivor of Nilbog's wrath. This is an S-class situation," Eidolon said, dancing around the actual result he wanted.
Piggot wasn't the kind to mince words. "Unmaskings are only authorized in S-class situations in the case of reciprocation. This is not an S-class situation, and Coil has not violated the unwritten rules." The scorn she felt for the code among capes was apparent from her tone, but she wouldn't violate it either.
"Ah…" Armsmaster turned in unison with Director Piggot and Eidolon to find Kid Win hovering on the edge of the circle of PRT soldiers waiting for their next orders. He clutched a clipboard, and when he had their attention he approached, holding out the paperwork to Director Piggot.
Kid Win cleared his throat, clearly intimidated by the presence of his superiors, but continued. "Clockblocker asked me to bring this down. It's a copy of the unmasking order. He said… well, I mean, Contract's an S-class cape, and Coil called her…" He glanced at Eidolon and changed what he was going to say, "Coil tried to use her civilian name against her."
"You didn't mention this why?" Director Piggot demanded, looking at Armsmaster.
"Coil did not use Contract's actual civilian name. A close approximation, yes. And he did seem to think it was her secret identity, but he was mistaken."
"The intent was still there," Eidolon interjected, grasping on this justification. "And I agree with Clockblocker's logic: as an S-class cape, Contract's safety is an S-class situation. In combination with the possible weakness of the defenses around Ellisberg, this is certainly grounds for an unmasking order."
Armsmaster watched Piggot's face, as her struggle played across it. She had no fondness for the unwritten rules, and Nilbog was a particularly difficult subject for her to be objective about. On the other hand, her duty required that she uphold the law in its particulars. Finally, she took the clipboard from Kid Win and pulled out her cell phone.
"I will wake up Director Costa-Brown and explain the situation. If she decides to instate S-class protocol, that is her call. Wait here," she commanded as she walked off to give herself a hint of privacy.
"Why are you in Brockton Bay?" Armsmaster asked Eidolon directly, as soon as Director Piggot was out of earshot. Kid Win took a step back so that he was next to the van, but didn't leave entirely. Eidolon certainly saw him, but didn't protest his presence, and Armsmaster decided not to say anything either. His social software indicated that allowing the young hero to listen in would boost his confidence, and Kid Win's new technology had done well in the field, even if he hadn't been able to be there directly.
The other hero shifted, and the social software indicated guilt or embarrassment were the most likely causes. "I have been using a precognitive power to check in on Intrepid from time to time. I saw he might be in danger tonight, and I assumed that the other Wards might be also." Armsmaster inferred that he meant Contract specifically.
"I came immediately," Eidolon continued, "but when I arrived here at headquarters, Director Piggot informed me that you'd woken her for an after-action report. I would like to offer my healing to Contract. You said she was in need of a hospital?"
"I will escort you there after I debrief with my director," Armsmaster decided briskly. Protocol demanded that a closed investigation be opened to the PRT as soon as possible. Coil's spies were probably still in the organization, but with Coil himself and nine of his mercenaries in custody, it was time to unseal the file. And while Armsmaster couldn't physically stop Eidolon, he would do whatever he could to keep him away from Contract, particularly without supervision.
Eidolon picked up on Armsmaster's subtle hostility, if his uncomfortable body language was any judge, but Piggot approached before he could answer.
"The Chief Director agrees with your concerns," she told Eidolon with cool professionalism. She turned to one of the nearby soldiers. "Unmask him."
There was an awkward moment while the PRT employees tried to find a hidden zipper or another way to remove the costume easily, before they resorted to carefully cutting it off him. When Coil's face was revealed, the reactions were immediate. Armsmaster kept his visor pointed toward the villain, but watched Piggot and Eidolon instead of confirming what he already knew.
He saw the moment that Piggot recognized Thomas Calvert, and noted that Eidolon didn't seem surprised by the immediate upheaval and widespread recognition among the PRT squad. Armsmaster wondered if there was such a thing as an Ellisberg marker, or if he'd made it up just to get Coil unmasked for his own unknowable reasons.
"What is the meaning of this?" someone demanded, and Piggot pinned them with a withering stare. The murmurs died away abruptly as she took control of the situation.
"Coil is to be sedated for the next twelve hours, and kept under the strictest master and stranger protocols. Raise headquarters to threat level yellow. Effective immediately, all squads are to work double with non-standard backups. No one goes anywhere alone. All tips, suspicions, and testimonials are to be submitted to Internal Affairs."
Piggot turned back to Armsmaster and Eidolon, who were standing at attention waiting for her to finish the immediate measures. "Did you know?" she asked Armsmaster without hesitation.
"We had our suspicions, and there was circumstantial evidence, but no. We didn't know for sure."
"We?" she pressed.
"Contract uncovered the initial clues and brought them to me. The full details are in my preliminary report, which is waiting in your inbox. We did not inform the entire team."
Piggot's face softened ever so slightly as he mentioned his charge. Concern, according to his software. "I assume from Kid Win's presence that the entire Wards' team was involved in this fiasco?" she asked wryly.
Armsmaster nodded. "It made sense to leave the investigation in their hands. They were isolated from the possibilities of spies, they are under less scrutiny than PRT investigators, they had the resources required, they had the trust of the confidential informant, and they were underestimated by Coil."
"Then I will debrief with whichever Wards are still in the building, and with the others as they return from the field. Go take care of Contract, then report back to me afterward."
Armsmaster had already sent her the file, minus a few unnecessary details such as the fabricated "evidence" of Contract's future betrayal. It would not have held up under close scrutiny regardless, but it was better not to put thoughts into anyone's head.
Piggot walked out of the bay, leading Kid Win by a heavy grip on his shoulder. Armsmaster immediately turned his attention to Eidolon, who was eying him just as attentively.
"You've been watching Contract?" Armsmaster demanded as soon as they were alone.
Eidolon hunched his shoulders a bit, and the social software indicated guilt. "I owe her. I didn't want to intrude, but if she was in danger, like tonight, I wanted to be able to help." The lie detection software, which he'd uploaded to run in conjunction with the social interpretation, didn't flag any of that as false.
Because of the draws on processing power, he could only run one program at full capacity at a time. He'd compromised by thinning out the social program, and recalibrating the lie detection so that it only recognized and flagged straight, complete falsehoods. Together, they generally served him well, but Eidolon had the advantage that he could be using one or more thinker powers to fool the programming.
"What have you seen?" Armsmaster asked, trying to think if there was any way he could politely refuse to let Eidolon see Contract. He wasn't sure what her reaction to Eidolon would be, but it couldn't possibly be good, even if he was there to heal her. Could it?
"Nothing," Eidolon insisted. Armsmaster waited for the LIE flag to appear, but it didn't. "I flick the power on once a day to make sure Intrepid will be safe for the next twenty-four hours, then turn it off. Circumstances in Houston mean that there's been a bit of a gap recently, and when I checked tonight I saw imminent danger. I teleported straight here."
"And you're here to help out of the goodness of your heart?" Armsmaster pressed again. In his experience, people generally didn't go out of their way to be helpful without expecting some sort of reward. He'd never noticed Eidolon acting particularly charitable, above and beyond his duty as a hero.
"As I said, I owe her."
Armsmaster studied the other hero for a while, but there was no way to know if he was lying or not. He also doubted he could really keep Eidolon away from Contract if he was determined. "Follow me," Armsmaster commanded, climbing back on his motorcycle.
An orderly was waiting for Armsmaster when he pulled up to the hospital's front door, and he was escorted directly to Contract's room. Eidolon followed two steps behind, and Armsmaster didn't tell him not to, not yet anyway. For the hospital to have had someone on look out for him, the situation might be more serious than he'd initially assessed.
When the elevator door opened on the fourth floor, Contract's voice was audible almost immediately.
"Admit it, I'd make a wicked space pirate," she said. Armsmaster headed directly for the sound, noticing that a doctor was hurrying towards him from the other end of the hall. They reached the door to Contract's room at about the same time, as she answered whatever unheard response Intrepid had made.
"No, I'm not wasted. Believe me, I am a mean drunk. I only get silly on pot."
"I'm not sure you should announce that," Intrepid told her, glancing between her, lying on the bed, and the small crowd gathered in the doorway of the private room.
Contract was lying on top of the hospital sheets, dressed in a thin gown and domino mask, which was haphazardly tied on over her head bandage. Intrepid was sitting on the foot of the bed, facing the door. His tinkertech weapon was in his hand, but resting on the bed. It had twitched when Armsmaster first came into sight, but remained lowered when he was recognized.
Armsmaster approved of that level of awareness.
The doctor entered the room once he was sure Intrepid wasn't going to protest, and Armsmaster followed him. Eidolon hovered in the doorway, and Intrepid's grip tightened on the gun, but he didn't raise it. Armsmaster considered asking Eidolon to wait in the hallway, but there was still the outside chance that Contract needed immediate healing, despite her apparent good humor.
"What is her condition?" Armsmaster asked the doctor.
"Significant head trauma and internal bruising are the greatest concerns. She's on IV fluids to help her make up for blood loss, though she's refused all pain medications. She needs to be admitted for observation for the next several days to be sure there is no risk for complications."
"Take your diagnosis a-"
"Contract," Intrepid cut in, putting a hand on her leg which probably did more to quiet her than his actual words, "you've made your opinions known."
"How significant is the head trauma?" Eidolon asked, and if Armsmaster's software hadn't diagnosed his tone as concerned, he would have thrown him out of the room then and there.
"We suspect a subdural hematoma."
"Suspect?" Armsmaster cut in.
"Contract is refusing treatment," Intrepid volunteered.
Armsmaster turned to Contract, but she was looking from one face to another. She'd lost the train of conversation. He waited until her eyes were on him, then asked clearly, "Why are you refusing treatment?" Her forehead scrunched up, so he elaborated, "For the subdural hematoma."
"I'm not refusing treatment, I'm refusing an MRI on account of the metal screws in my body, as I tried to say multiple times."
The doctor cleared his throat, "Ah, I should have been more clear. A CT is used to scan for head trauma. Metal won't cause any issues."
"Or I could just heal her?" Eidolon said, as the doctor picked up the clipboard hanging from the foot of Contract's bed. The doctor paused, his pen still hovering over the board and its pages.
"Is Contract in immediate danger, or can we have a moment to discuss?" Armsmaster asked the doctor. The man glanced uncertainly from hero to hero, then shrugged and put the clipboard back.
"Have one of the nurses page me when you're ready, but don't take too long," he said, and Armsmaster made sure to note that his nametag claimed he was Doctor Hall for future reference.
Then it was just the four of them.
"What's going on?" Contract asked, while her hands moved in sync with the words. Armsmaster's own studies were coming along slowly, hindered by his other obligations, the limited availability of independent study materials, and the rarity of practice time. He was pretty sure she was using ASL not because she expected an answer, but to remind them all that she was deaf.
Eidolon stepped forward far enough to close the door, but didn't approach further. Armsmaster was glad. There was no way for him to physically stop Eidolon from being here, which was part of why he hadn't seriously protested the hero's presence. Even so, Eidolon knew that he wasn't welcome and was treading carefully. For now.
"Why are you here?" Contract asked, looking at Eidolon. With his face fully obscured by his hood, she wouldn't be able to see his answer, but she seemed determined to ask anyway. To the surprise of the entire room, Eidolon answered her both audibly and in sign.
"May I use a thinker power on you, so that we can communicate? This power allows me to be understood by my audience. I have found it an effective translation tool."
Contract's face twisted, and Armsmaster could tell she wasn't happy but couldn't read what she was feeling. His software didn't read it either, so it wasn't as simple as reluctance. "Yes. Answer the question."
"I want to offer to heal you." Contract scoffed, but didn't interrupt Eidolon as he continued. Armsmaster didn't know enough ASL to say whether Eidolon's motions matched his words, but nothing he signed stood out as wrong either. "I saw that Intrepid might be in danger, so I teleported to the Brockton Bay PRT. Armsmaster was minutes away with Coil, so I elected to wait and come with him."
Contract looked at Armsmaster abruptly. "Coil?" she asked, ignoring Eidolon for the moment.
"He was unmasked to protect you, after he tried to use your secret identity against you," Armsmaster told her, deciding not to be any more specific for now. Coil was out of their hands, and she would need to accept that. He signed, Everything's okay. I know his name, not knowing how to say anything more complicated than that. "He is being held in custody, under sedation, and under master/stranger protocols."
She nodded at that. Then she turned back to Eidolon. "Why should I let you screw around with my body? What could possibly make you think I'd trust you?"
Confusion, the social software reported. "You trust me to hold back the Endbringers, but not to heal you?"
"You've got billions of reasons to hold back the Endbringers. And more than a few possible motivations to screw with me."
Eidolon shifted. Earnest, the software read his body posture. Concerned. Honest. "I owe you my life and more. You paid the price to end my greatest mistake. I watch your teammate to protect you, nothing else."
"And yet your thinkers write weekly reports trying to ferret out my deepest secrets. What is the logic there, anyway, now that you know that at least some of my secrets are actually yours, too?" Her tone was acidic, and her hands moved crisply and rapidly as well, reflecting her anger.
Eidolon continued to address her in both languages, and it was clear from his voice and the violence of his motions that he was upset, too. "I swear, I did not know that report was still being written. I told Costa-Brown to shut down the think tank. I will evidently be having words with her again when I leave here."
"I wish I could believe you," Contract shot back as soon as he'd finished speaking.
"I would die rather than betray you after what you've done for me," he replied just as fast. Again, Armsmaster waited for a LIE dialog that didn't come.
Contract's eyebrows raised at that, and as she stiffened in surprise she jostled something, resulting in a hiss of pain.
Intrepid pointed to a large red button by her bed. "Take the stupid pain meds."
"And be more dopy than I currently am? Maybe I can start chatting with the dancing elephants and embodiments of Death instead of just seeing them."
"Are you hallucinating?" Eidolon demanded, with a tone that Armsmaster would have called angry if his software hadn't flagged it as urgent and concerned, again.
"So not the point," Contract insisted.
"Hallucination can indicate a very different severity of head trauma -"
"-I'm not seeing elephants, okay? Jeeze. Keep your pants on."
"Contract," Intrepid said as he touched her leg again. "Let him heal you. If he really wanted you dead, this isn't how he'd do it, right? And what else is he going to do, with two witnesses and a hospital staff to hold him accountable?"
"You would not believe the shit you can get away with by screwing with brain chemistry," she told him.
Intrepid's face constricted and Armsmaster's software flagged surprise and confusion. "I thought you couldn't be mastered?"
Contract shot Intrepid a hot glare, and the software reported that the hero felt immediate regret. He obviously hadn't meant to let that slip, having forgotten that no one else in the room knew that detail.
For his part, Armsmaster suppressed the desire to step forward with interest. This was an aspect of Contract's power he hadn't heard about, but he didn't want to alert Eidolon to the fact that he'd been ignorant.
After a moment, she shook her head. "I have some reason to believe that I am guarded from a complete loss of self. The source isn't totally reliable, and I haven't tested it for obvious reasons. I don't think Eidolon is really the powerhouse I'd like to try to outwit, my first time out of the gate."
Armsmaster sent a memo to himself to investigate whatever she was referring to.
"It doesn't work like that," Eidolon tried to assure her.
"Says the trump with access to a billion different powers," Intrepid said, which wasn't helpful in convincing Contract to accept healing.
Intrepid glanced at Armsmaster, who decided to nod back. He agreed that Contract should accept healing, but he wasn't going to push her while her injuries were not life-threatening. Intrepid seemed to be playing both sides of the issue, helping Contract think through the choice while her logic was potentially impaired.
"Is there any way you'd let me help you?" Eidolon implored. The software gave Armsmaster readings of guilt, desperation, and concern.
"Uh, no. Because if you tried to master me and it did backfire on you? The underlying theory is that I'd lash out, subconsciously, and be willing to kill to defend myself. Most probably on the level of soul annihilation. So either I end up mastered, or you end up dead. I don't want to deal with the paperwork for either scenario."
Armsmaster wondered what sort of circumstances would lead to the development of such a theory, and then wondered how Contract could so surely distinguish between "dead" and "soul annihilated." It wasn't something he'd pursued after the events of March 19th, but perhaps that had been an oversight.
"I think she's made herself clear," Intrepid said.
Eidolon, however, wasn't willing to give up. "What if we made a contract? I swear never to lie to you, ever again, if you'll let me heal you."
"It doesn't work like that," Contract told him, with a sad smile. But something about this plea had reached her where the others hadn't. "I don't suppose you've got some sort of broad-spectrum shaker-type healing that could be applied to the entire hospital rather than just myself?"
Eidolon had displayed such powers exactly once, in the aftermath of one of the earliest Endbringer fights. The lack of its reappearance was one of the primary pieces of evidence to suggest that Eidolon's powers might be weakening, or at least that individual powers could be exhausted.
Eidolon paused, considering, then nodded. "I have been keeping it in reserve, but if that's what you'll accept, then so be it. I need to get permission from the other patients in the hospital." He turned to leave.
Armsmaster exchanged a glance and nod with Intrepid, then followed Eidolon out the door. "Panacea is a regular at this hospital; all patients sign wavers when they are admitted. Any nurse can verify if there are any abstainers currently in residence," he told the other hero. "Why are you willing to use something you've held in reserve for so long?"
Eidolon glanced up and down the corridor, but they were alone. With a Ward in residence, this hallway had been cleared of non-essential personnel. "For one, while the hospital will be a challenge, it won't exhaust me. For another, healing Contract is a matter of extreme personal importance to me, as I've already stated."
Holding back, flashed across his display. "And?" Armsmaster growled out, tired of the politics.
"Contract just admitted what I have suspected for the last two weeks. Her power is at least partially subconscious. That means her head injury could be compromising her control. Why did I sense danger to Intrepid in the next twenty-four hours, if Coil is already in custody? What could endanger him now?"
Eidolon was speaking quietly, and even so he avoided saying anything that could be used directly against himself or anyone else, but the implication was clear. Those with bleeding in the brain had been known to suffer extreme mood swings and loss of self-control. Armsmaster didn't think that she would lash out at Intrepid regardless, those two were thick as thieves, but the point about subconscious control was worrying.
"Panacea will be on duty in just a few hours," Armsmaster hedged, but Eidolon was already shaking his head.
"She can't touch the brain." Eidolon paused, then muttered, "I'm going to go find a nurse," and left Armsmaster standing in the hall with his thoughts.
Armsmaster had thought of Contract as powerful. He'd considered her stubborn and cunning. He'd observed more than once that she knew things she shouldn't and used that knowledge in unpredictable or inconvenient ways. She'd frustrated him on occasion, when she wasn't being amusing or impressive.
He'd never labeled her dangerous, however. Not since she'd surrendered to Alexandria peacefully in New York City. Even when it was revealed that she had the power to release Behemoth, he'd been more wary than actually concerned. It was hard to be properly cautious of someone who showed so little aggression, who lashed out verbally but never physically, who capitulated to the PRT and his own authority, and who had so often retreated directly to his lab, to seek his help.
That veneer had already been challenged many times over the past four days. She'd shown a hidden viciousness rare in most heroes, a pragmatism that he kept closely regulated in himself. He'd begun to suspect that she was not a normal teenager, even by the standards of parahumans. Contract was deadly, and wasn't afraid of that part of herself, even if she kept it controlled.
Contract had absolutely refused to give Coil the slightest chance to extract himself, even if it meant preparing to endanger herself and go after him at home, alone and technically unauthorized. She'd played the part of an anti-hero without a misstep and without needing much help. She'd threatened to kill Coil, even when she had to know that the chances of the hostage gambit failing, as it had, were much greater than succeeding, and her knife could have been jostled by any of a hundred circumstances. She'd cut the man's nerves and tendons, potentially crippling him for life if Eidolon hadn't healed him.
The key wasn't to wonder which face was true, but to realize that both were possible. The subconscious that could mold itself into either the PRT Ward or the avenging killer was the same subconscious, and it was that subconscious that controlled or at least influenced her deals.
A wave of refreshment and energy swept through his body, and Armsmaster assumed that Eidolon had gotten the permission he needed. At this hour, there would be no visitors to the hospital. Assuming the staff kept a parahuman release on file on the premises, there'd be very few independent permissions to request. Even so, Eidolon had managed to get authorization suspiciously quickly, and hadn't officially received Armsmaster's explicit consent. He'd have to mention something to him, to prevent the future potential for scandal to the PRT.
Armsmaster turned and re-entered the hospital room, closing the door behind him again. The two Wards were as he'd left them, talking at a more reasonable volume. He assumed that Intrepid had told Contract that her previous pitch was carrying.
They both glanced up, but Contract was in the middle of a story and she didn't stop talking as she waved her hello. "...Tylenol is pretty much useless for anything more than a sprain, plus it's killer on the liver, and we didn't have that much of it regardless. But we had to hike right back through the same wild patch on the way out that we passed coming in. So yeah, you try saying no to drugs with a bone sticking two inches out of your leg."
"Medical marijuana?" Intrepid joked back. "That's your story?"
"And I'm sticking to it," she informed him archly. Intrepid shook his head, then glanced between Contract and Armsmaster.
"I'll just go watch the door," he muttered, then left them alone.
Armsmaster stepped forward, then paused awkwardly. He needed to debrief Contract, as the ranking parahuman in the field at the time of the encounter with Coil. He needed to debrief with her as a minor who had been undercover. He needed to inform her which pieces of their plan he had expunged from the records before she debriefed with Piggot.
He needed to be sure that she was alright after her encounter with Eidolon, and the obviously difficult subsequent decision to allow him to use his powers on her. He probably ought to follow up on the revelation about her master-resistance, and ask if she had any guesses about the reasons for her thinker-resistance.
But he was also her legal guardian. Was he expected to show sympathy first? Even if it further delayed what needed to be done? Even when Contract had previously given few if any indications that she wanted sympathy from himself or anyone else? How did one show sympathy to a minor, who was legally his ward, and who had been his partner in a detailed and successful operation against a powerful precognitive opponent?
This was why he'd accepted Hannah's offer to help him co-lead the Protectorate.
Before he'd made up his mind where to begin, Contract reached up and took the domino mask off, scratching at the skin underneath as she spoke. "How much trouble are we in for unmasking Calvert?"
"It was Eidolon who pushed for it. He used your security as an excuse, but Director Piggot is a smart woman, and she asked me on the spot what we knew. I admitted we had suspicions and circumstantial evidence. However, since it was not either of us who raised the issue, there shouldn't be any repercussions."
"Let's hope it's that easy," Contract agreed. There was a brief knock on the door, and she pulled the domino mask back on while Armsmaster opened the door. Beetle was standing in the hall, with a large shoulder bag.
"Piggot sent me to bring you this, and to collect Intrepid for debriefing," she said, holding out the bag. It seemed to contain clothes, presumably for Contract. Three PRT officers were covering the hall, ready to relieve Intrepid from his watch.
"Director Piggot," he corrected Beetle, and she blushed so heavily it was visible between the open mandibles of her mask. He didn't say anything more, retreating into the room. There was no need to re-issue orders which his superior officer had obviously already given.
He handed the bag to Contract, who started rooting through it immediately. She extracted the glasses he'd made for her, and a cell phone to pair them with, then replaced the domino mask once again, this time peeling off the no-longer needed head bandage.
"The doctor should be by soon to double check Eidolon's work, and then we can return to the base for debriefing," he told her.
Contract nodded her understanding, pulling the clothes out of the bag and sorting through what Beetle had brought her. It seemed to be one of the many versions of her costume.
"Is there anything I shouldn't be honest about?" Contract asked him.
"I have omitted the fabricated betrayal evidence. As for lying? No," he said. "We made the correct choices for the situation. It's protocol for an internal investigation to go over every judgment call made in a closed investigation to avoid the appearance of corruption or impropriety. You'll be questioned multiple times. That's not an indication that you're in trouble."
"Thanks for the heads up. What are the chances we do wind up in trouble?"
"The biggest obstacles will come from the Youth Guard. The Wards are not meant to be an investigative team. You technically had the authority to do as you did, especially because I was overseeing all of your work. However, they will be very… concerned that five Wards ended up on the front line while the Protectorate was asleep."
"Youth Guard… Triumph mentioned them but I haven't seen them around anywhere. What are they exactly?"
"They protect the interests of the Wards. Technically, most of you are too young to have even a part-time job, let alone one so risky."
Her face and voice were extremely skeptical. "The Wards have their own CPS?" The disdain in her tone made it clear that the comparison was not kind.
Armsmaster recited the justification that had been offered to him every time he tried to resist the meddling of the watchdog organization. "The Youth Guard provide important balance and advocacy within the PRT."
"Did they have anything to do with Sophia getting away with murder?"
"No."
"You mean not directly," she elaborated. Armsmaster didn't refute it. Keeping the Youth Guard out of the Wards' base probably had contributed to Renick and Piggot's reluctance to crack down on the girl more than they had.
Armsmaster decided to change the topic. "You handled Eidolon very well."
"You mean I successfully refrained from wringing his neck? Well, the three broken ribs and their associated pain helped dissuade me."
Joke, his software told him. He'd calibrated it to warn him if it detected jokes mentioning physical harm, as these were sometimes the most difficult for him to figure out on his own. "If I had been more certain of a method of stopping him from coming, I would have," Armsmaster assured her.
Contract shrugged. "According to PHO, he's been spending almost forty hours a week as a healer of one form or another, on top of his normal crime-fighting duties. It's not totally out of character for him to be here."
"You were still extremely cautious," Armsmaster pointed out. He approved of her caution, but was curious about the apparent contradiction.
Contract shrugged again. "Mostly I didn't want him to end up dead. Not that it was likely, I mean even if he did try to chemically program me the chance that I'd register it and the chance that I'd react that way and the chance that my source was being truthful multiplies out to like, 1 or 2%, but it would still be awkward to try to explain to Piggot."
"Director Piggot," Armsmaster corrected her, and made a note to mention the disrespectful habit to Clockblocker, who was its most likely source.
"That's what I said," she said with a teasing smile. Then it dropped away. "Sorry, I just forgot. Anything else you wanted to talk about before the doctor arrives?"
"How did Coil find the name Sophie?" Armsmaster asked. For the sake of operational security, there were certain details that had only been known by one individual. He had been the only one who knew what the attack deadlines were. He'd left others details in Contract's hands.
"I can't say for absolute certainty. I was pre-resolved to only give up that name if I had to confront him in his own home, so the most likely scenario is that he ignored us, I confronted him in his home and implied that I only learned his name after he stood us up, and he promptly went back in time to protect his name.
"It's also technically possible that I was captured and tortured and chose to give up the name despite my resolve, although I somewhat doubt Coil's ability to break me in just a few days given what I have endured in the past. A third possibility is that Coil somehow plucked the information from my mind at the time of the encounter in the warehouse. I was half-expecting to hear it. Everything had just been too easy up to that point."
Armsmaster considered that time travel would partially explain why Coil had known to call in sick to work before their plans had been in motion. "You're certain that he's a time traveler?"
Contract lifted both hands and made weighing motions with them. "He's a time traveler; he's a scary precog. He manipulates time, he manipulates probabilities." She dropped her hands. "At some point, you give up on the details and just classify him as sufficiently dangerous."
"We're going to have to interrogate him at some point," he mused, trying to think it through.
"After he's been sedated for days, right, so that if he can go back in time and does so, he doesn't just walk out of the unlocked room?" she interjected. When Armsmaster gave her an irritated glance meant to convey that he was not an idiot, she nodded her head and moved on. "Well, we do know some limitations. For one, if he was all-powerful he wouldn't need a precog like Dinah."
"Does this have to do with why you asked him for thirteen coin flips instead of four, as I suggested?"
She grinned. "I kept my camera pointed up so that I was the only one who would see the quarter and know the results. Operational security. Because the results weren't what I said they were." Armsmaster waved her on, before she could get caught up in her own gloating.
"I planned my twelve answers as soon as I understood what he was going to try to do. First one, I'd answer honest. Second, I'd look at the other side but still answer honestly. Third toss, I'd lie. Fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh I would answer heads either way, with at least one more looking at the other side for showmanship sake. The eighth toss I was going to be honest again. The ninth I'd say tails no matter what I saw. I figured he wouldn't want to do the last three after that, so I'd flip them myself and report the truth, whatever it was.
"We didn't make it to the eighth toss, as it so happened, but we still learned quite a bit. He didn't know what the quarter was going to say. I got a head, a head, a tails which I had pre-resolved to lie about, and then the four that I said I'd call heads regardless? Two heads and two tails, just like you'd expect."
"So he knew what you told him, but nothing else."
"And he manipulated the first three flips, so chances are his power would have let him manipulate all thirteen if I hadn't screwed with him. Statistically, if he is going back in time, he had to be prepared to do it thirteen times or more, plus whatever else he was using it on besides our little show."
"Maybe he's just able to foresee his own future with extreme accuracy."
"At an accelerated or compressed rate? Because he called into work sick at 5 am, and I didn't confront him in his house until after 8, if I was able to follow my predetermined timeline. At the very least, we didn't text him until after twelve so that's seven hours of foreshadowing."
"A sufficiently dangerous opponent," Armsmaster conceded. A second knock, firmer than Beetle's had been, alerted them that the doctor had arrived.
"Come in," Contract called, not bothering to cover her face. Armsmaster frowned, and sent himself a memo to discuss her secret identity with her when an appropriate opportunity presented itself. The whole situation had started because Tattletale had recognized her. He pointed to her domino mask, and she slipped it on grudgingly as the doctor entered.
"Ah, my apologies, I could have waited," he stammered, noticing that she was still tying the strings.
"No, I'm fine. Come run your tests."
The examination was perfunctory. Based on the delay before he'd come, the doctor had probably already examined several other recipients of Eidolon's healing and trusted the hero's work. After many repetitions of "Does this hurt?" and "No." the man shined a light in her eyes, and asked her to pass a few basic coordination tests.
When he was done, she grabbed the bag Beetle had brought and retreated to the room's toilet to change in privacy.
Doctor Hall didn't leave immediately, as Armsmaster had assumed he would. "I don't consider it my place to say anything, normally. But might I recommend outfitting her with a full helmet?"
Armsmaster swallowed his frustration with yet another person who considered themselves an exception to a rule they had just acknowledged, and forced himself to wait, knowing the doctor would either chicken out and leave or explain himself in the silence.
Doctor Hall chose the second response. "It's just… Intrepid said she's had at least two other serious head injuries in the past. Repeated trauma, even healed by a parahuman, can have lasting effects."
Doctor Hall now had Armsmaster's full and undivided attention. He'd worry later about the fact that Intrepid knew more of Contract's medical history than he did. "Is there anything specific we should look for?"
"Prevention is really the key. But if she's dizzy, or unusually moody, has any loss of vision or hearing, any nausea, or if she seems to go into shock, you need to bring her back here immediately."
"Should she wait for a medical scan?" he asked. Piggot wouldn't like the delay, but Armsmaster was not going to put Contract in danger over a test that would take only a few minutes, particularly with no one else waiting for the machine.
"I would prefer her to, yes. If she can be persuaded."
Armsmaster wondered just how belligerent Contract had been before he arrived, because Doctor Hall seemed almost wary of asking her. Before he could follow up further, the heroine in question emerged dressed in her normal uniform.
"You need to have an CT before we go," Armsmaster informed her, speaking deliberately so that it would be easier for her to read his lips, since her glasses had been replaced by the domino mask.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she shrugged as though it wasn't a big deal. Armsmaster decided to count that as a win. He sent two soldiers with her to radiology, assuming that Piggot had asked the detail to track his movements as well as Contract's, for accountability purposes. He and his trailing escort made their way to the administration window.
"I need a copy of your normal admittance forms, as well as whatever you use to track medical history," Armsmaster told the woman behind the desk. She gave him a look he couldn't interpret, but gave him what he asked for. He turned away, just as his software prompted him to thank her.
Even he knew it would be awkward to turn back and do so now, so he strode away instead. He did remember to thank Doctor Hall, when the man escorted them out of the building.
Armsmaster followed the PRT van back to the headquarters building, writing and rewriting his list of things to do, once he was cleared to do them. It had already been a long week, and a long night. Now he had several long days of interrogation to look forward to.
At least Coil was in custody.
Coil remained in the custody of the Brockton Bay PRT for almost precisely twelve hours, before he was transferred to New York to await court martial or trial. Director Piggot had decided almost immediately that Coil needed to be tried as Coil so that he could be sentenced to the Birdcage.
However, since trials were open to the public, and there was a chance that Coil's identity could come out in the process, there was some pushback from higher up the chain of command, namely Chief Director Costa-Brown and the other regional PRT directors who had employed Coil's men after they proved their worth in the Brockton Bay squads.
Armsmaster learned all of this second hand, through Miss Militia, whenever she stopped by to update him. He was confined to isolation until the initial investigation had been completed, and he spent most of the time drafting designs (by hand, since as a tinker he was not allowed access to anything electronic during an enforced period of isolation) and making lists and plans for when he was cleared. The two of them were able to iron out the details of their co-leadership, formalizing habits that they'd fallen into in the last two weeks, and ones they'd developed in the years before that.
The investigation itself was more straightforward than he'd hoped, with the exception of the contingency plans and preparations that he and Contract had laid out, in case of escalation. They were given some leeway for having not carried them out, but no one he talked to seem to really understand. The plans had escalated based on the recognition that they would be unnecessary unless Coil himself had escalated first. Faking the death of the Protectorate leader, having Brockton Bay declared to be in a state of emergency, and luring in the Triumvirate had not proven to be necessary, but that didn't mean that they could have guaranteed from the beginning that it wouldn't become necessary.
Because he and Contract were both under scrutiny, they were confined to their respective PRT quarters rather than being allowed to go home at the end of the very, very long Sunday.
Fortunately, on Monday, Director Costa-Brown herself got involved and the questions began to die down. They were both released from custody, though the official clearance for full duties might take two weeks or longer to be processed. Unfortunately, Director Costa-Brown also declared that Coil would be tried in a closed court martial as civilian Thomas Calvert.
Contract cynically commented that he would be free within the week. Armsmaster was slightly more optimistic, but only in regards to the timescale, not the ultimate result. It was a shock to them both when he was found dead in his cell, apparently a suicide, the first day he was allowed out of sedation. How he'd managed to kill himself while under master/stranger guard was someone else's problem.
April 13, 2011
"Did you sleep well?" Colin asked as Fi emerged from the den of his apartment, which they were still converting into her full-time bedroom.
"As well as ever," she deflected.
"Which means?" he pressed. He had little patience for the extended back and forth when Fi clearly knew what he was asking.
"I'm glad it's Wednesday? Finally?" she opened the fridge and started pulling out ingredients. "I'll take a nap after therapy," she conceded. Colin stayed quiet, leaving the silence as invitation.
While he waited, he returned his attention to the report he was reading. Miss Militia had arranged for those Wards cleared for duty to join various Protectorate teams on patrols for the rest of the week. It was good to show the colors after the press release scheduled for later this morning, when they'd be officially announcing Coil's capture, with a very small note about his eventual fate.
"Do you ever dream of your trigger event?" Fi asked. Colin looked up, but she was focused on whatever she was chopping. Potatoes, most likely. She seemed to enjoy a large breakfast. She was wearing her glasses, so Colin answered her while she was still looking down.
"Very rarely. Perhaps once a year, or less." He considered adding some detail about the event itself, but couldn't think of anything he was comfortable sharing.
"I've been dreaming of it a lot," she volunteered.
"What does Dr. Yamada say about that?"
"I haven't told her yet."
Colin knew he ought to chide her for that, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. He could count the number of people he'd confided his trigger in on one hand with fingers to spare, and all of them had been capes.
The silence stretched, then Fi started talking again. Listening seemed to be enough, so Colin set aside his report and just listened as she stumbled through what she wanted to say, never looking away from her task.
"After Behemoth, I dreamed of it every night. Not a direct part of the cost, but... a consequence. Like having to leave home. They haven't stopped."
Fi had come to him, for help in drafting an email to Eidolon regarding Behemoth. He'd been hoping that with that contract over, she might be willing to speak of it, but so far she hadn't done so. Now wasn't the time to push her on it.
"I feel like there's something I'm supposed to be seeing, some detail I'm not noticing. I just wondered if all capes felt that way, maybe."
"I don't know," he admitted. "Miss Militia asked me the same thing once, but when I told her I rarely re-lived my trigger, she didn't elaborate. You might talk to her."
Fi shook her head. "She's your partner, but I don't really know her that well."
She dumped whatever she'd been cutting into a pan, and breakfast aromas started drifting through the apartment.
"You allergic to onions?" she asked, taking one to the sink to wash.
"No, though I don't prefer them." From the smell, Fi was making breakfast potatoes and eggs.
The first few days in the apartment, he'd tried to cook for them. It felt like something he should do. On the third day, Fi had taken the spatula out of his hand and informed him that he was officially banished from the kitchen. After a bit of confusion and hurt feelings on both sides they'd finally managed to communicate.
Fi liked cooking, it relaxed her, and she didn't want Colin to feel obligated to do something he saw as a tedious chore. She didn't dislike his cooking, though they both agreed it was bland, nor was she ungrateful for the effort. She just didn't see why she shouldn't do something she enjoyed that they both benefitted from.
Colin picked up the pad again, but closed the report and opened the scans he'd made of the hospital's paperwork. "That reminds me," he said as casually as he could, "as your legal guardian, I need to be able to provide your medical history."
The rhythm of her chopping didn't change. "Alright, ask away," she said after a long moment. Colin tapped the record command into his phone, so he wouldn't have to try to fill in the information as she talked.
"Any allergies?"
"Not that I'm aware of. A little bit of painkiller tends to go a long way, so I avoid it when I can, but as far as I know, I'm not allergic to any foods or medications."
"You mentioned marijuana in the hospital. Have you taken any other drugs?" he kept his tone level, not condemning. Whatever she had done was in the past, it was in the past. If he judged her, he was less likely to receive honest and helpful answers.
Fi paused again, but it was just so she could stir the potatoes frying in the skillet. "I have been drunk precisely twice, and used marijuana for less than one day as a medically necessary painkiller. I have never taken any other recreational drugs. I've had a variety of pain meds prescribed to me, which I tended not to take as I previously mentioned."
Colin glanced back down at the forms. "Any previous surgeries?"
"A couple. I've had my tonsils and appendix removed. One broken bone that required screws to set properly. Right leg."
"Any other physical traumas?"
"Fractured bones, sprains, bruised ribs." She seemed focused on her task, her tone totally casual.
"Intrepid told the hospital you'd had two previous head traumas."
She stopped, set the knife down and turned to look at him. "Head traumas? Jason and I haven't discussed my medical history… oh. Yes. I have had previous head traumas."
The confusion dealt with, she reached for the knife again, but then paused, and visibly forced herself to face Colin, meeting his eyes. "I suffered a concussion the same day as my trigger event. I tend to forget about it, because it pales in comparison to everything else that happened that day. The other is probably referring to when I was kidnapped and tortured, two years earlier. I had access to a pretty good healer a about a month after I escaped from that situation, so I wasn't accounting for any of the physical traumas I suffered during that time or before. Should I list them anyway?"
Part of Colin wanted to say yes, to know what she had endured. But he could see that the thought of recounting it to him was not an easy one, so he shook his head. "Doctor Hall mentioned that even healed head traumas could cause long-term issues, so you might want to see a specialist. But for now, I think it's safe to assume that's in the past, especially since his tests didn't show any warning signs."
She nodded sharply, and took a deep breath. His willingness not to push had not eased her tension as much as he hoped. "There are two other medical facts you need to know, both related to my trigger event."
He nodded, inviting her to sit with a wave of his hand, but she didn't move from her spot by the stove.
"I was raped, and as far as I can tell, I haven't aged a day since I triggered, six years ago." As soon as the declarations were made, she turned back to the potatoes, flipping and stirring them with quick, easy motions.
Colin just watched her, trying to decide what he was supposed to do with a proclamation like that. Fi was… twenty-two? Or had she aged as part of her triggering process, and was now catching up with her physical appearance? Had she been raped as a child or a teen? Did it matter? Had she known her attacker?
The silence lingered, for once not easy, as most silences between them were. Colin tried to think of something he could say, anything really, but he was too afraid of saying the wrong thing. Eventually, Fi took up the slack.
"I don't know how old I am. I was found sixteen years ago, more or less. I was suffering complete retrograde amnesia. I could speak, read, write, do basic math. I knew scientific and historical facts that were unusual for my apparent age, but not enormously so. I had no idea who I was and no memory except for two or three days of wandering by the road. They estimated my age to be about eight mentally, and five physically. They compromised at six.
"I was kidnapped eight years later, and I triggered two years after that. I stopped aging. And for the past six years I've been treated as a totally independent adult. It's equally valid to say that I am fifteen, or sixteen, or eighteen, or twenty-two, or twenty-four. I hardly know, myself."
"I'm sorry," Colin finally choked out. He wasn't sure what else to say.
"I don't dwell on it. Just seemed like… well, you might need to know."
"Alright." Fi reached up and took two plates out of one of the cupboards. She didn't seem to notice his inadequate response. Situations like these were why he'd insisted she have a therapist. He just knew he was screwing this up.
"As far as medical stuff goes," Fi said as she carried the plates over to the table, "I can't think of anything else the doctors would need to know in an emergency. I'm not sexually active, so no need for birth control and the associated potential complications." Colin felt vaguely like that comment ought to be awkward, but Fi carried on blithely. "I used to give blood whenever I could, which isn't often when you weigh a hundred and ten pounds soaking wet. Since I lost two inches, I weigh closer to ninety or a hundred pounds, but I've been meaning to research the blood banks around here anyway."
"The weight limit is a hundred and fifteen pounds," Colin volunteered. Vista complained every time the PRT ran a blood drive.
"Figures," Fi muttered around a mouthful of egg and potatoes. "What else do doctors want to know?"
"There's a whole list of vaccines," Colin told her as he manipulated through the forms with his left hand, eating with his right. The heavy, awkward moments were behind them and he wanted to keep it that way. "Family history, which you won't have, exposure to exotic places and animals, sexual history, religious preferences or considerations," Colin paused as his brain caught up with what his mouth was saying as he skimmed along.
Fi just shrugged, however. "I went to a couple public schools, so I'm recent on childhood vaccines up until age ten. I don't even know if people get vaccines after that, but I do keep recent on my tetanus shots. I guess we could probably find someone who could test my blood to make sure I'm not missing anything. Doctors can tell everything from your blood.
"I've never been outside the US, but I have had my fair share of encounters with the animal kingdom. As far as sexual history goes, it's just the rape. By the time I recovered from the trauma, I realized that my age was getting weirder, and life was busy. I'm a Christian - Baptist, specifically. Is that all? Hospital clipboards usually look weighed down with a ton of papers."
Colin promptly decided that if the sixteen-slash-twenty-four year old girl wasn't going to make a big deal out of the questionnaire, he wasn't going to either. "Well, not having any family history cuts out a great deal of the bulk. And since I assume you'd mention anything like cancer or kidney stones, the rest seems pretty obvious."
"I'll let you know if I remember anything else, but I think that's all." Fi dug into her breakfast, eating a portion at least as large as his at the same efficient rate which he used and which Miss Militia had once described as "intimidating." If Contract was true to form, she'd be eating an equal portion again in a couple hours.
When their plates were scraped clean, Colin collected them and carried them to the kitchen sink. Fi reached over and picked up his pad, examining the forms. She flipped through them, then asked, "Promise me something?"
"What is it?"
"If the worst happens, I want to be cremated. Total burn. Every hair, every drop of blood." She hadn't looked up from the papers. Colin had read the forms as he scanned them, he knew they did not ask for final wishes.
"Alright."
"Thanks." She set the pad back by his empty chair and stood up. "I should do some of my school work."
He nodded, running water over the dishes before he set them in the dishwasher. Fi brought her laptop out to the table, and they worked in comfortable silence until Fi wandered back into the kitchen to make her mid-morning meal.
"Want a sandwich?" she offered even though she knew he wouldn't be hungry. Dragon said making offers you knew would be turned down was a way of being polite.
Colin cleared his throat. "No, thank you."
"When do you think the gag order will be lifted?"
Colin set aside his work. Fi liked to talk when her hands were busy, and from her tone this would be an important discussion. "Coil's identity will probably always be classified."
"No, I meant, when can I discuss the case with Jason?"
Colin took a moment to remember that Intrepid's civilian name was Jason. "We should be released to duty in a week or two. Is there something in particular that's bothering you?"
"I owe him a hell of an apology," she said as she sliced fruit for a salad. Colin waited, and she filled the silence with barely a glance in his direction. "He was really angry that we were willing to use Coil's identity. I don't think he approved of the nodes either, but… I need to repair that bridge."
"I don't understand. I thought Jason volunteered to take your place?"
"He did. Tactically speaking, it was the right choice and he knew he wasn't in a position to argue with the contingency plan. But he was pissed that we were, that I was, willing to stoop to that sort of thing if it became necessary. I think…" she hesitated, her hands stilling as she considered her words.
"He reminds me of an old-fashioned gentleman in some ways. He believes in honor, and in fighting honorably. In New York, when the Protectorate arrayed themselves against the possible need to restrain me, it hit him hard. He still carries that with him. He thought I was above breaking the code, I guess.
"I not only discarded the unwritten rules, I was prepared to plant the blame on Coil. On top of that, I drug Jason into the whole situation feet first when there wasn't a good exit if he wanted it, which he clearly did. And without knowing Coil's identity, Jason didn't know that he really had crossed the line first."
"Coil asked you to kidnap Dinah out of her home," Colin protested, trying to understand. He'd completely missed this dynamic, despite the close attention he tried to give the operation. "And you and Jason seemed perfectly fine afterward. You were joking in the hospital."
She shook her head sadly as she continued her preparations. "No. I mean, we were, but we weren't. It was forced, and we both knew it. Even affected by the concussion, I knew things weren't okay between us. I was too cowardly to bring it up, though, and Jason was too… too nice, I guess. I don't want this to fester any longer than it has to. As soon as the gag order is lifted, I'm going to go explain and apologize."
Colin still didn't understand why Jason was so upset, but he put it aside as an unnecessary detail. "I'll let you know when I know anything," he told her. Fi flashed him a smile.
She worked in silence, scraping the last of breakfast's eggs into an egg patty for her sandwich. After about minute of silence she said, "I don't know how to be someone's kid." Colin looked up in surprise, and their eyes met. "But we did make a pretty badass hero team."
Colin nodded in agreement, then turned back to the reports and other paperwork that needed his attention. With that one sentence, she'd told he what he really wanted to know. Though she would apologize to Jason, she didn't regret what they'd done. Fi brought her sandwich back to the table and ate as she continued her school work.