Signal to Noise

13

"Somehow, that seems like cheating."

"So what you're saying is, you want one."

There was a pause, before Armsmaster nodded. "Absolutely."

Rolling my eyes, I laughed. "Fine. Gimme like five minutes and some scrap parts."

Rolling out from under the bay I was working in, I moved over to the man's work bench and pulled together some parts that looked like they'd work. Roughly five minutes later, I flipped the tool around in my hand and offered it to the man. "There you go. One telekinetic universal multi-tool."

"Thanks. This should replace about four tool boxes," he admitted.

"Only four? Ha! No. I haven't had to touch a physical tool since I made one," I countered, laying back down on the cushioned and very comfy creeper and sliding under what was shaping up to look more and more like a bike the longer we worked on it. At least, in this configuration…

"How are you for time?"

Checking my timer, I hummed. "I've got another half hour or so before I need to take a break. Let's keep at it."

The man nodded and moved around to the top of the big bike frame. "Very well."

"So, how's Gearbox doing?" I asked as I began installing some kind of physical gyro auto-stabilizer to keep the thing balanced, regardless of the mode it was in.

"Better. She's out of quarantine and has passed all of the tests put to her. Panacea gave her a clean bill of health on her latest checkup. Physically, she's fine."

"Physically," I emphasized.

The man sighed. "Mentally, she's… 'in a dark place.' She's seeing a therapist, but it will take time."

"Mm. Yeah, it always does," I mused quietly. "Just be there for her. That's all you really can do."

We worked in silence for a few moments before he asked, "What about you?"

"Hm? What about me?"

"After everything with the PRT, I mean."

"Ahh." I considered it for a moment before sliding the creeper around to work on something else. "Eh, I'm… fine? I don't trust them, at all—or the Protectorate. Not as a government body. There are people working for the PRT and Protectorate I like and trust, but the organization can crash and burn for all I care. I think Emily tried to strong arm me and made a bad call, and maybe some of what happened was a run of bad luck and coincidences. I'm willing to let things stand as they are between me and her as long as the hostilities are over. Other parts were just plain enemy action, on the part of Sophia Hess and later, higher ups within the PRT."

I considered it for a moment as I let the psychic screwdriver tighten down what I was fastening in. "Okay, so I've picked up some new… security precautions. I scan my home when I come in, but that's just good sense in Brockton Bay. I have Enola keep watch over me when I sleep—but again, Brockton Bay. And okay, I don't go to the PRT office anymore or deal with uniformed PRT officers except at a distance outside the range of their sprayers. Also, I no longer turn my personal shields and NBC filters off—at all, ever, for any reason. And I sleep in my costume, just in case…"

Pausing, I stared at the vehicle above me. "Huh."

"The Protectorate offers help, for those capes who need it. It's free to members, but there are reduced rates for friendly capes. I can pass along the contact information, if you'd like. I believe that, given everything that has happened with the PRT, you could persuade Director Piggot to see to it that any fees are waived, given the PRT's involvement in causing any… stress or lifestyle changes you've had recently."

"Nn," I grumbled as I shoved the crawler out a bit harder than I really meant to and bounced up, floating over to the work bench as my timer went off. "I'll… think about it."

Looking up, the domino mask clad man nodded. "The offer will stand."

"Thanks." Sighing, I reached up and scrubbed a hand through my hair. "My timer just went off. I'm going to go grab lunch and take a break. I've got a meeting scheduled for today anyway, so I'll be back in a couple of hours." Considering whether or not I should tell him, I shrugged mentally. "It's with Kaiser. We're just going to talk on neutral ground. I'll send you my tracking data just in case, but please don't send someone by unless something comes up."

Armsmaster frowned. "Talk with Kaiser about what?"

I shrugged. "Fuck if I know what he wants to talk about. As for me, I'm going to tell him the same thing I told Ryuu last week: leave me the fuck alone and don't give me an excuse to rain down blue lasers."

"Blue being sleep? How does that work, given blue is a higher energy than red—"

"The actual 'laser' part is outside the visible spectrum. The coloration is a layer over the top of it. It's theater, basically. Red is a more aggressive color. Blue is agreed upon by almost everyone to be non-lethal. Green for healing, and so on," I explained. "Anyway, I'll be back."

I paused halfway to the door and sighed. "Ugh. Fuck it. Send me the shrink's contact info."

"Will do."

With that, I tossed a wave after me and floated out, heading for the exit.

The meeting place was empty, aside from the staff. I checked my display for the time and found I was right on schedule—which meant I was being made to wait. "Alright, fine," I muttered as the waitress came over. She was kind of cute, in a plain sort of way, but had a certain quality to her demeanor…

RBF. She had a massive case of resting bitch face.

I sent her a smile anyway. "Hi," I waved, and she dropped a notebook and pen onto the table, along with a menu.

I frowned for a moment as I studied her. She gestured towards her ears then shook her head. "Ah," I nodded, and looked over the menu. Making my choices, I wrote them down.

Dr. Pepper.

Double cheeseburger.

Mustard and ketchup only.

With fries.

Bring ketchup, leave bottle.

Thanks~ 3

She took the pad, read it over, then nodded and walked away. I settled back into my seat and pulled up my neural interface. Checking the contact info Armsmaster had sent, I considered the name. It seemed vaguely familiar, in the way I felt like I should have known the chick acting as the server for this place was deaf. Canon knowledge, barely remembered.

Not good enough.

Pulling up my chat interface, I sent a message off to Tess.

Claire: Hey, Tess. Got a minute?

She waited a whole minute and thirty seconds before responding, during which I opened up a few windows and pulled up the local news, along with PHO. I know. I timed her responses.

Tess: Sure, Claire! What's up?

Claire: Armsy told me to go see a shrink.

Tess: *blink* What…?

Claire: Well, more like he recommended someone. Jessica Yamada. Know anything about her?

Tess: Hmm… I know she's on retainer to the Protectorate, Wards, and PRT. I heard she was brought in specifically to speak with Gearbox, because she couldn't stand being alone with a man. I don't know much about her cases or patients, but she wouldn't be on the payroll if she wasn't good.

Claire: I dunno, that's almost more of a mark against her…

Tess: Come on, Claire. Don't just blow her off like that. If you need or want help, you should talk to her. Or me

Tess: Or anyone, really. As long as you talk to someone.

I raised an eyebrow. Don't think I didn't see that. Or that I don't see that you let me see it.

Claire: I'll think about it.

The bell above the door rang and I looked up as a man in a business suit wearing a metal helmet, along with two beautiful Nordic-looking women, strolled in. I waved once as the waitress returned with my burger. Turning to her, I sent her a big smile as I cut my burger in half and poured out a not insignificant portion of the bottle of ketchup onto my plate.

Claire: My meeting is here. I'll talk to you later. Thanks, Tess.

Tess: Any time, Claire.

I waited for Kaiser to sit down. "Azazel. Sorry for the delay."

"Kaiser," I nodded. "It's fine. Just means I get to start lunch sooner." I turned for a moment and smiled up at the two blondes. "Fenja, Menja. Looking good, ladies."

One nodded while the other smiled. Turning back to Kaiser, I asked, "So, this is your meeting. I'm listening." With that, I dipped my burger in ketchup and took a bite. "Mmf."

Kaiser hesitated for just a moment before nodding. "Very well. Firstly, let me start by saying that was nicely done with Lung and Oni Lee. Though, it would have been better had you finished the job. As it stands, either Ryuu or the rest of the ABB will probably break them out."

I nodded. "I'm aware of the possibility. But that's on them, not me." I popped a ketchup delivery vehicle—that is, a fry—into my mouth. "Mm. Nice. Not often you find a whole cut fry that doesn't suck, or that isn't mush."

"Quite," he murmured. "On to my proposal, then. The Empire is looking for any capes willing to join our ranks, but especially Tinkers and Thinkers. You're proven yourself strong and a versatile Tinker. Additionally, given your history, and your visible alliance with New Wave, I believe our goals and values align—if you are, perhaps, a bit misguided on who your true allies are. You would be paid handsomely for your services and any materials you need to Tinker supplied, along with a secure laboratory to tinker in."

"And what are those? 'Our' goals? 'Our' values? Just so we're on the same page," I asked, before taking another big bite out of my juicy burger, finishing off one half and moving onto the other. I hadn't been expecting much but was pleasantly surprised here.

"'We must secure the existence of our people and a future for white children.'" I nodded and motioned for him to go on as I chewed and swallowed, before picking up the other half. "As for our goals… You see it. Anyone with eyes sees it. The degradation. The moral decay afflicting not just our nation but the world itself. The world slipping further along the path of degeneracy by the day. Rampant criminality. The constant propaganda in the media. The subversion of our values, twisting our tolerance to tolerate what should, by definition, be intolerable. Rampant homosexuality. Promiscuity. The rise in sexually transmitted diseases. The sowing of confusion over the roles of men and women, and the very idea of man or woman. The ever growing and festering racial animus towards good and decent races of white people. The influx of third world 'refugees' with each Endbringer attack—though at least those from overseas have tapered off thanks to Leviathan and the Simurgh; one of the only things to be thankful to those monsters for."

I popped the last bite of my burger into my mouth as I let him go on, dissecting his pitch down to a basic TL;DR version: blah blah feign racial solidarity, feign concern towards common talking points among his members (I'd know, I'd had Enola listening to them for a while now so I'd know what to expect), yadda yadda we're the same and you should side with us because we should all stick together.

Except not only did I have metaknowledge, I had my own personal spy watching their every conversation and every byte of data going in and out of every device owned by an Empire member. There were some people who truly bought the rhetoric, but for the most part, it was just like every other gang—people grouping up for mutual safety, even if they disagreed with the rhetoric behind closed doors, because in Brockton Bay the alternatives were the druggies or the human traffickers. It was a case of people picking the best out of a bunch of bad options, because everyone could see how ineffectual the actual law enforcement, PRT, and Protectorate were. And Kaiser was the absolute worse of them. A hypocrite who cared only about himself and his profits.

Even back when I was getting dicked around by the PRT and had hit the lowest point in my life, when I really would have taken his hand if he held it out—I still would have hesitated, knowing what I knew, and started immediately looking for a way out. As it stood, I wanted nothing to do with them. I was in a position where I could not just refuse, but set terms myself.

Really, the only reason I was letting him talk was to make a point: he had wasted my time so I would waste his—before I told him the reason I'd bothered to show up at all.

"What I want is a world without any of that—but I would settle for a country. You've already begun the work by removing Lung from the board, I ask for your help to continue it. We'll remove the ABB from the city, followed by the Merchants. The Empire will secure Brockton Bay. Once that's finished, we will only have the Protectorate to contend with—and they're no match for our numbers or the strength of our members."

Picking up my cup, I sipped my drink as he fell silent. Humming quietly, I sat it down. Picking up my napkin, I wiped the grease off of my hands.

I made him wait.

I couldn't see his face, but given the way his hands flexed slightly, it was pushing his buttons. "That's it?"

"What do you mean, 'that's it?'"

"What's your endgame here? Okay, so you get rid of the competition. Then what? You want to secure the city… from what? Who? I mean, you can't exactly declare an entire city a 'whites only' area, nor can you run out everyone you don't like. You have more capes, sure, but the police and PRT together outnumber them and your own forces by a significant margin if they called a full muster—something like three to one. That's not even counting all the gun-toting American citizens who would flip their shit if you started going door to door or something—if you actually manage to rile the general populace up, no amount of capes is going to save you. You simply don't have the manpower to realistically hold a city—not in the way you're describing.

"And, if things get bad enough, the Protectorate and PRT can always call for backup from out of state. Also, there are plenty of locals who, while they would otherwise like to be left alone, if it came down to it and they were forced to choose between the status quo and the people wanting what sounds a lot like cape rule with some twists, they would choose the side that let them keep enjoying bread and circus. Or, in this case, choosing between legal authority and the group that might decide to start putting people in camps."

"Do you also believe in the tales of lampshades, soap, and roller coasters straight into ovens?" Kaiser rolled his eyes under his helmet. "We aren't planning to put anyone into camps. Push out the undesirables, certainly, but there will be no exterminations. With your force field technology, it would be easy to do exactly that. The Docks were just a small scale demonstration. We could section off the city and go block by block the same way you did with the Docks."

I shook my head. "Okay, so with my tech, maybe you could feasibly roust those you don't want and keep them out. But those that remain? Your people have a reputation that's impossible to shake. To the point that just throwing around the accusation of being a 'nazi' is a slap word used to shut down arguments and put people on the defensive—a shitty arguing tactic, but it works against people who care, which is normal people who aren't wise to that trick. The stain won't ever wash off. You won't ever have the support of the masses, or even most of the people you claim to be looking out for. Any movement that starts from the position of 'Well, we're nazis, but…' is doomed to failure from the start. Even white nationalists distance themselves from you guys."

"But it is that very fear, the ingrained reaction—the brainwashing—of that racial guilt by association that we are fighting against. And the system, the 'people' who spread it."

"No. You, the Empire, are not. You're just a gang, trying to use the former glory of a much larger and more successful organization, along with some international connections, to give yourselves some semblance of legitimacy. That is Allfather's legacy—what he left to you. But it was always going to fail." I shook my head. "We're just going around in circles and I'm not going to argue ideology with you. So, I'll cut to the point." I looked between the three of them. "You all know my name. It's been on the news, so there's really no hiding my identity. But just to get the formalities out of the way, I'm Claire." I pointed to Fenja. "Jessica." To Menja. "Nessa." Then turned back to Kaiser himself. "Max."

His fists clenched and the girls looked like they wanted to go for their weapons and the only thing stopping them was that this was neutral ground. "How do you know that name?"

"I'll get to that. Listen. I'm going to tell you the same thing I told Ryuu, when her brother tried to kill me. I don't want anything to do with the gangs or the Protectorate. With playing cops and robbers. I'm personal friends with New Wave because they've done good by me, mostly. But at the end of the day, this?" I gestured down at my costume, then to the twins, looking unsure where they stood. "I'm just not interested. I only put on the costume because it's the only thing you people understand."

Sighing, I continued, "I, and some people I happen to like, live here. I can't feel safe, or feel like they're safe, if people are constantly shooting up the city, driving around on the sidewalks, and generally treating the whole thing like a big game with no consequences. So, I'm instituting consequences—and unlike the Protectorate, I can and will back them up. And again, I'll tell you the same thing I told them. No more violent crime—and that includes dog fighting. No forced prostitution. No more hard drugs. You and I both know it's chump change compared to what you're getting from the big building downtown anyway. Beyond that, I don't care. It's a free country. You're free to say and believe whatever you like."

"You would turn your back on your own people—"

"Don't give me that 'for the volk' shit, I'm not one of your fresh-faced recruits you've had your people talking up your organization to for weeks or months. You've got some pretty words there, but you don't believe in any of it. You're in it for the money and we both know it—your father and sister were the true believers, you just inherited the throne and the following. And do you know how I know you're not a believer? Simple. You've had this power, your position, for years. And what have you done with it? Poisoned your own people with drugs. Got many of them arrested or killed through your 'war' on the other gangs and the Protectorate, and introduced many of the rest to a life of crime. You, Maxwell Anders, are a cancer to your organization causing it to slowly rot away from the inside, and corrupting any and all of the ideals you claim to support in order to make a quick buck and use your people as muscle. Violent thugs. It would be better run by someone like Purity—dissolved, taken underground, international ties cut, and the whole thing rebranded in order to distance themselves from your reputation. But only after cutting out the other tumors—removing the criminals and criminal elements.

"As for me personally? While the outside fits your ideals, the inside doesn't. When I got my powers, I got a little something extra. The life and times of another person, from another place and time. I'm literally a man trapped in a girl's body. Powers—gotta love 'em, right? They always find some way to fuck you over in the end. So here's a twist for you: If I liked men, I'd be homosexual mentally. I like women, which makes me homosexual physically. Pretty sure I don't fit in with your group, even if I am the right race. And even if I had my dick back, I wouldn't join. You don't practice what you preach. You're a hypocrite. You say you want better for your people, but instead of making a community and uplifting and protecting them as you should be doing if that was what you really wanted, all you've actually managed to do is drag them down into the muck with you and paint a huge target on their backs and anyone remotely associated with you, including the ones who just happen to live in Empire territory but who aren't even members. So no. Thanks, but no thanks."

Putting his hands on the table, Maxwell Anders made to stand. "I think we're done here."

"Not quite," I shook my head. "Sit. I owe you a demonstration. The same one I gave to Ryuu, and why she agreed to my terms." He didn't sit, but he didn't go anywhere either. I nodded. "Pick a place. Anywhere in the city."

"Here."

I nodded and a hologram sprang up between us, showing us the interior of the restaurant. "Pick another."

He turned fully towards me. "Outside the PRT headquarters." Another hologram. I gestured again and he said, "The inside of my office."

Another hologram, and I smiled. "Knowledge is power, Max—as you well know. I can see anywhere in this city. Moreover, I can strike anywhere I can see." A thought to Enola had a view of the goons outside waiting in the car. "Mind if I borrow one of your men? I won't hurt him, promise. This is just a demonstration. Completely non-lethal. He won't even wake up with a headache."

Max crossed his arms over his chest. "Very well."

"Enola, put that guy there to sleep," I said, tapping the man sitting in the passenger seat of one of the cars. A moment later, a blue laser streaked out of nowhere and hit him, and he promptly slumped against the window. "Now, I can do that any time I wish. Anywhere. To anyone. Clean up your shit. Stop causing problems. Beyond that, I don't care what you do. You have," I checked my countdown for Ryuu, "eighty-three days to comply, or I will rain blue lasers over the city. Into every business, every home, every hidey-hole you've got. And then, I'll drag you out—not kicking and screaming, but sleeping soundly. I'll deliver every last one of your people to the police and Protectorate. As for me, do you know what I want?"

"What?" he ground out.

"I want to be left the fuck alone to Tinker in peace. Like the hermits and sages of old, I want to fuck off to my mountain and do my thing. You clean up your act and leave me alone, I leave you alone."

I could hear his teeth grinding. "And what of the Merchants?"

I shrugged. "I don't care, so long as it isn't bloody. After the ABB, they're the second biggest blight on this city. Why don't you talk to Ryuu about that? Work together to take them out. Or don't, and in eighty-three days, I'll deal with it myself. Either way, when the dust settles and the Merchants are gone, I don't want to hear about any fighting over territory. I can always launch more blue lasers." Standing up, I dropped some cash on the table to pay for my bill and the tip.

"We won't stand for this," Kaiser growled.

"Then you'll lie for it. Asleep. In a puddle of your own drool while you're being carted safely off to the authorities. Your choice." Snapping my fingers, as though I had forgotten something, I added, "Oh! And if I die? It's red lasers and they go off immediately, targeted at whichever group attacked me. Just like the one that blasted the top off that cistern to get down to Gearbox and root out that nest of ABB. I would say you could ask Shadow Stalker what the red ones do to people, but you can't. Cause she's dead."

"Who do you think you are—"

"I just wanted to be left alone. You asked for a meeting with me. You got it." Turning back to face him, I continued. "Your people attack me, they go to sleep, they get turned in. You try to break them out, you go to sleep, you get turned in. You try to call in outside help, they go to sleep as soon as they cross city limits, they get turned in."

Kaiser jerked his hand to the side, yelling, "You're willing to just disregard the unwritten rules?!"

I stepped closer, before leaving the ground, floating up to his eye level. "Well, let's see," I began counting off on my fingers. "Had my identity exposed to the authorities the moment I triggered. Arrested. Arrested again. Attacked and nearly assassinated in my own home, which was then burned to the ground. Identity disclosed to the media and aired for everyone to see. Forced to fight my way into a kangaroo show trial that would've seen me 'caged, before finally dumping enough evidence on them that they couldn't dismiss it. The 'unwritten rules' have never applied to me, Max. Why, why should I even pay them lip service when it comes to anyone else? No, at this point, I'm just done. Done with heroes and villains, done with the game. The only thing I give any fucks about is the Endbringers. Beyond that, I just don't care. As long as I'm left alone."

"And if you're not, your solution is 'lasers for everyone.'"

"Now you're getting it!" I grinned, before floating for the door and tossing a wave over my shoulder. "Be seeing you! Twenty-four/seven, three-sixty-five, with lasers charged up and ready."

I knocked on the door and waited, pulling my (real, not holographic) jacket tighter around me. I had turned down my temperature control a bit so I could actually enjoy the cold and the feeling of real clothes other than my costume for a change.

A moment later, I heard locks being undone. Finally, the door cracked open and a face peered out. She was Asian, Japanese I think, with short black hair and light brown almond eyes, wearing a maroon sweater and a set of…

Pajama pants?

"Hello? How can I help you, miss…?"

I sighed. "We spoke earlier, Ms. Yamada. Claire?"

The somewhat older woman smiled and nodded, opening the door wide. "Come in, come in! And please, just Jessica." I made my way inside and she closed the door behind me. Looking around, I found the place full of half-empty boxes full of things. "Please excuse the mess. I've been busy settling in. I don't even have my own office yet, which is why we're doing this out of my home. You don't mind, do you?"

"It's fine," I shook my head. "It's… homey. Comfortable."

"Good! Good," she nodded. "Can I get you anything? Coffee, tea—"

'Or me?' my mind supplied and the corner of my lips twitched.

"—soda…" Yamada's eyes narrowed as she noticed. "You thought something lewd."

"Me? Never," I denied, putting on my most innocent face. The woman didn't buy that for a moment. "Soda would be fine, please."

"Have a seat," she gestured towards her couch and made her way into the kitchen. I dropped onto the couch and she came back a moment later with a Coke. Opening it up, I took a sip while she cleared off the recliner beside the couch and sat down. Picking up a notebook and pen, she opened the notebook and took out her phone. "Do you mind if I record this?"

"That's fine. I'm always recording anyway," I waved her off.

She raised an eyebrow and turned on the recorder on the phone before setting it down and started writing in the notebook. She was using shorthand and something like a code, but Enola easily cracked it for me and told me everything she was writing about me as she did it.

-Sexually attracted to women. Flirty but not aggressive.

-Says she's always recording. Paranoia?

Looking up when she finished scratching, she asked, "Just so we're on the same page, I'm going to ask some quick questions." I nodded and she began. "You're a parahuman, correct? What kind?"

"Yep," I confirmed, popping the 'p,' before letting the hologram hiding my glowing eyes drop for a moment before bringing it back up. "Tinker."

-Dismissive of parahuman status? Resentful? Tinker.

"And an active cape?" When I nodded, she asked, "Your cape name is…?"

"Azazel."

-Azazel. Look up later. Sounds biblical. Ominous. Egotistical.

"But you prefer Claire?"

I shrugged. "Honestly, I think the whole 'putting on costumes and using fake names while playing cops and robbers' thing is stupid. But it's the only thing these idiots understand. It could be some hilariously fun and sexy full contact cosplay, but people take it way too seriously."

-Disdain for cape culture. Feels like she's separate from it, but forced to interact. Considers other capes idiots. Overinflated ego?

-Thoughts turn towards sexualizing capes. Aware she's sexualized and fetishized as a young female cape, plays it off as a joke?

"Alright, Claire. Why don't you tell me about yourself?"

Chuckling, I asked, "You haven't watched the news lately?"

"I've been busy, and before I was called to Brockton Bay to handle a new patient, I was in New York, so I haven't really seen your local news. Sorry," she apologized with a smile.

-Check news reports later. Surprised I don't know of her. Either something big, or an inflated sense of self-worth. Narcissism is a typical Tinker/Thinker tendency. Combine that with typical teenager self-importance… About average for a Ward.

With a nod, I decided I was done. I wasn't okay with her little notes and comments and I didn't like the idea of someone trying to dissect my brain. So, I decided to fuck with her a bit before I blew the joint. "Well, let's see… I enjoy Tinkering, cooking—"

-Irreverent. Sarcastic. Combative/non-cooperative.

"—and reading novels curled up next to a cozy fire. I don't enjoy being in the cozy fire—not so cozy when you're in it, I've learned."

Jessica blinked.

"I don't particularly enjoy being shot through the titty with a broadhead, then having my house doused in gas and set on fire with me in it."

Her eyes widened as her pen stopped scratching.

"Or being arrested and foamed by the PRT and left for days in a tiny cell without food or sleep."

Oh, that is a nice 'what the fuck' expression you've got there. But wait, there's more! Behold, the cluster-fuck that is Claire's life and weep.

"Don't think I enjoy dating teenagers, because they overreact over stupid shit and then cheat on you… because when I told Panacea I was a dirty old man trapped in a girl's body, I meant it literally and she misinterpreted that as meaning it metaphorically. But I'm pretty sure a sexy older woman would turn me down for being jailbait."

Her expression shifted from 'what the fuck' to befuckled.

"I know for a fact that I don't enjoy having my rights stripped away and being treated like a criminal. Don't really like having the media, social media, and every idiot with a camera treating me like I'm either a criminal or just looking for an excuse to label me as one. Not that I care what they think, but the fact of the matter is that other people, namely law enforcement and PRT, care and those opinions can change the way they interact with me. Really don't fucking like being attacked by an overgrown lizard and having my ass broken. Also don't enjoy negotiating with nazis and debating over the finer points of why their organization sucks."

At this point, I didn't really think there was any way I could surprise or shock her more, but I decided to try anyway. So I aimed a little closer to home. Namely, herself.

"Oh, and I really, really, really don't like when the person I've come to for help immediately labels me as having an 'overinflated ego' and being a narcissist."

Jessica's eyes went wider as she looked down at her pad.

"Yeah. Three-hundred and sixty degree view inside a very large range, and a VI that can crack chicken scratch, shorthand, and code. So. I'm going to leave, and I won't be back—"

"Claire, wait, I—"

I glared, again dropping the hologram over my eyes. She fell silent. "I'm going to leave. You're going to delete that, right now, while I watch. I could do it, but I want you to do it."

Her hand shaking slightly, Yamada picked up the phone and stopped it, then deleted the recording. "It's deleted."

"Great. Thanks. You can keep the paper notes. You know, in case you'd like to frame them. As a reminder of what not to do in the future. Having opinions of your clients is fine—you're… only human," I paused, frowning at the thought for a moment, before shaking my head. "But maybe in the future, keep them up here," I tapped the side of my head.

"Claire, I'm sorry—"

"Don't care." Turning I headed for the door. "Thanks for the drink."

Closing the door behind me, I left the building, then took to the sky. Remembering what Sarah had told me, I chuckled to myself and made my way to the top of the abandoned hotel. Creating myself a comfy little shelter from the cold and warming it up, I settled in on a hardlight couch and looked up into the sleeting sky.

My phone interface rang with a video call and I groaned as I checked the caller ID. Picking it up, I asked, "What's up, Tess?"

The mousy-looking AI girl appeared to study me for a moment before smiling hesitantly. "So… I saw your tracker leave Ms. Yamada's. You weren't there long…"

"Yep."

She was silent for a few moments, biting her lip in a way I found adorable, before asking, "Want to talk about it?"

I considered it for a moment before shaking my head. "Nope."

"Okay," Tess nodded.

"Wanna watch a movie?" I asked. "I wanna watch a movie."

The AI smiled. "Sure, what did you have in mind?"

I hummed quietly as I pulled up the local fare. "How about… Casablanca?"

"That's really old."

"I think you mean 'a classic.'"

"Sure," Tess chirped. "I'll—"

"Have you got the gear built to interface with my holo setup from over there, in VR? Pretty sure I sent you the code." It wasn't the full dive VR stuff we had been working on, just hooks for making a hologram on this side and a sensory array as opposed to a full artificial environment.

"I did!" she nodded eagerly. "I've been wanting to try it out!"

I imagine she did. Full sensory replication for use with 'virtual reality equipment' for interacting with the real world. For a normal person, it would be like putting on a VR helmet and being somewhere else, fully able to experience their senses. Telepresence, basically. For an AI… it would be like having a real body, at least for a time.

"Alright, tossing you an invite."

A moment later, a mousy brunette popped into being on the couch beside me. "Oh!" And then immediately shivered. "It's cold!"

"Yeah, sorry. Hang on, I'll—"

She practically threw herself across the couch and curled into my side. "Ahh, better," Tess sighed. "So. Movie?"

I shook my head and brought up a huge screen in front of us. "Right."

And so my plan begins. Lure in the sweet, innocent AI girl with IRL time. An innocent cuddle in the cold here. An arm around her shoulder there. A bit of kissing later, and then…

I'm going to hell for this.

Worth it.