Maincraft

by codekinguu

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2. Chapter 2

****Spawn 11

Starting a walking patrol from the north end was a new thing. It seemed to upset some of the Merchants. Within a block or two of openly patrolling, we'd gained a lookout or two following.

"Another ahead on the left.", Miss Militia spoke on the comm. I had no skill at the sub vocal speech thing yet so I just grunted. I was watching the right while Vista moved ahead with her a block, then I would step forward and match them. The idea was that I could see anyone stepping out behind us, and anyone trying to hit me from behind would be grasping air as I moved.

I could see how having Vista along made it worthwhile to do this on foot. We could step from building to ground and back up. We stopped on a rooftop to look around. Since Vista put us up here, my little light trail effect didn't show where we'd got to. Miss Militia was playing her gun sight around, looking for the ambush she was expecting.

"Hey, are those Uber and Leet's carts up there?"

Looking ahead to the real Boardwalk sections, the lit touristy end, I could see the two doing spinouts in front of a small crowd. They were racing up and down a length of the wood structure with a little ramp at one end. One would go partway up the ramp and then stall to fall past the other coming up.

"Looks like a show night, but keep an eye out. Occasionally their idea of working the crowd turns more like robbing the crowd." Militia pointed out.

Tapping Vista, I pointed down in the barely lit alleys where several Merchant thugs were all together. There were bats out, and now a gun. It looks like our ambush, unless they had multiple groups out.

Vista was raring to go but Miss Militia held us back. "We'll call it in."

"Awww." then Vista glanced at me. "More training before we engage right."

"Yep yep."

I took it in stride. Various Wards had pulled me aside and mentioned that the first two or three patrols would be frustratingly quiet. I turned the other way and there was a really dark spot on the roof one building further back of us. I walked a few steps that way and felt a kind of menacing lack of sound. But the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I reached the edge of our roof and saw part of the road between this building and the one more north of us. The top of the building was engulfed in total blackness.

Pulling a torch out of inventory I tossed it lit across to the other roof. It was bright as hell, and then suddenly nothing. I heard it skid across the gravel and then other gravel crunching noises and a couple whispered "shit!" exclamations.

Then something really big, four legged and covered in bone plate and exposed muscle jumped across. The light was back and blinding as it dropped the torch at my feet. And sat down. You could have heard a pin drop if it weren't for the sound of at least fifty pounds of tail thumping the roof as it wagged.

The darkness across from me dropped suddenly. Several figures were there, along with three other beasts as big as the one looking at me, at the torch and back at me. Expectantly. I reached down and picked it up, eliciting a delighted whuff of noise. It bounced as it tried to guess which way I would throw it.

Behind me Vista and Miss Militia were too focused on something else. "I see a gathering of gangers there. At least twenty in ABB colors.", Militia was saying -I could hear it over the comms. "AH, it's Lung. He's in his mask and jeans, and looking to pound on someone."

"That is very bad if you happen to be the someone." Vista added. It dawned on me I couldn't hear them except over the comms- Vista must be doing something to bring that side closer to them, so it made me that much further away to balance.

An anxious abomination of bony horror bounced in front of me, breath almost enough to act as a weapon. Fine, I tossed the torch off to my left, down along the road. It bunched its feet under it and leaped into the open air after the stick. The other three leaped after it from the other side. Joyfully they pounded down the half block or so that I'd tossed it.

Across the rooftop I saw a guy in motorcycle leathers and a helmet helping a manly looking redhead girl up. She was nursing an egg on her head and groaning a little. I don't think the first toss hit her, but maybe the bone-tank-dog thing had knocked her over getting it?

There was another guy in a Ren Faire getup, white shirt, a small crown on his head and white mask with a black teardrop under one eye, and a scepter. He was golf clapping at me and nodded. A girl was helped up, purple spandex and a facemask. She had been under the ahem bigger girl? Ow.

Both girls immediately looked down the road to where the bony things were rough housing about who would return the stick. The winner grabbed it, the light going out part way, and turned to the closest person in view. That happened to be an ABB ganger on his butt trying to scoot away from them. With my luck I probably hit him too.

The monster thing dropped it at his feet and bounced. I could hear it whuff at him, frantic to have it thrown. Think terrier, only horse sized, in full stick fetch mode.

"Just. Throw. The. Stick !" I yelled out.

There was something strange coming behind him. The buildings were lighting up like a mob with real torches were coming. I heard some gunshots, and lots of feet. The guy on the ground grabbed my torch and threw it behind him, trying to run as the monster things ran after it. He just got knocked down again -oohhhh- and stepped on.

It had quieted down near me, so I heard the conversation across the street to the other roof top.

"Quick, call them back!" Motorcycle helmet, he was watching them and me, back and forth.

"Fiii canf't, fmy lipf is Sfplit! Canf't fwhistle!" burly redhead.

"Oh crap, she's a Ward." Spandex. "She can WHAT? Ow! Ow owie!" she wrenched her view away from me to where the dogs had gone out of sight. The light bloomed again. Must had found a new stick thrower. Then the light went out completely except for some flicker from real torches -maybe a car fire. Fwoosh, a gout of flame shut up past the corner.

Three of the four shot back into view visible because the fourth was behind them, running like mad and on fire. I mean like covered in fire. Ohmigod. The figure following them around the corner I had heard of. There were warning posted all around the docks to avoid fires at night and not to annoy big Asian guys. The three monsters were bounding up the walls to get back to the group on the other roof. The fourth seemed blinded, or maybe disoriented. It was heading for me.

Dropping a water cube out of inventory I was about to throw when my shoulder twinged. I didn't let go. It would have sailed off into the night.

"No! Let her. It will put out the fire." purple spandex was saying.

Ren faire dude dropped his scepter down a little and waved me to proceed. The monster thing was halfway up, having trouble as it was moving by feel. It was stuck on the edge, the first mostly on its back and head. I blur stepped close and broke the water cube over it like an egg into a bowl.

There was a lot more water in there than I expected. Fhewww, seawater too. Ah one of the cubes from Bay walking out to the Rig. The fire was out. I had a moment of pure terror switch to calm horror as it shook its head and then licked me up the face. Starting somewhere around my chest. I was still three feet away. Ah! The horrors of late night internet surfing haunted me yet. Ick.

It could see again and turned to hop across the space of the street to the other roof. That rooftop spewed darkness again, starting to cover the group.

"YOU!" a new voice called out. It was on fire, only mostly human looking. Growing. Did I mention fire? "h'M gon to hkill hyu!" The head grew another notch, breaking a strap on his helmet which opened two pieces attached to a skullcap. The whole thing slid off to fall to the ground.

He was looking at the patch across the street. I felt the world do a weird dolly zoom effect as Vista put a whole lot of space between me and the edge of the building. She and Miss Militia were standing stock still in the 'shhhhh' pose, finger to lips.

In the sudden quiet, the sound of the water pouring off the roof was loud. A grunt and a thump as the flaming figure, now sporting stubs of wings and a metallic sheen. He looked around angrily as the group there was gone, the darkness fading into wisps.

Still angry, he turned and locked eyes with me.

"They went that away!" pointing to the right.

His face swung the way I pointed then slowly back to me. "hYou 'll do..."

"Get out of there!" Miss Militia said over the comms, her and Vista already in motion. "Go to the Boat Yard and lose him." I think they stepped down to the street on their side of the building.

Lung crouched and leaped for me. I stepped to the side, which for me was the length of the building and partway down the fire escape. He pivoted and threw fire after me. I tossed a water block back over the edge to him as he pounded closer.

A splash and a roar of anger followed me as I stepped and stepped again. Nope. Nope. All the Nope. Steam puffed outward then flared as fire whooshed into a great ball. I was at street level and three steps took me out of the lit areas toward the waters. Screw following the coast, I headed right across the water, cutting across the dark water of the beach. The seawall blocked the light from the street, making my own path highlighted with the glow from my armor on the path behind me. It was a direct line across water to the Market area, staying to the right to skirt population.

I got to the shore at the market, and turned to see something taking flight, flames and wings. Okay, running now, rubbernecking later... Straight through the Market and into the Boat Yard, I homed in on the place where I'd mined the boat. Balls of fire shot into the hulks of old boats, not really close, but not far enough away. Not really much left that is flammable, but his fires didn't need fuel so much. Just beyond that was the big container ship partly on its side.

He was getting pretty big now, maybe fifteen feet or so tall. Okay, I didn't have my measuring tape with me but he couldn't fit through the cargo doors on the deck of the container ship I took refuge in. As he struggled in, I mined a bit of the wall out and replaced it with a steel door. He got through into the hold. Looking around for me he roared and flared up a lot. I'd just stepped around and up to the cargo doors. I created a cover and placed -welded to it kind of- the sound muffled mid roar. The flames shot out of holes in the deck as he vocalized his anger again. I found one above him, seeing a huge eye looking up at me from the cargo hold below. The hole was only a foot or so wide. I dumped every seawater brick in my inventory down on him and then sealed the hole there as the ocean took him momentarily. The explosion of steam shook the cargo ship, gouts of white finding any hole.

The short time it took him to choke and cough his way back to being able to breathe again was the time I took to beat feet out of the Boat Yard. I paused only to switch armor sets to one of the drab looking lower strength ones. This time there was no light trail behind me screaming -'follow me!'. I put a warehouse or three between me and the open area leading out toward the Market and checked for watchers. I swapped to civilian clothes, regular shoes for the moment.

Making my way along the back ways into the DWU facility was easier than it should be. Long ago they could post watchmen at both gates. Now, only the front is under watch, and I was able to skirt the lit areas where the one cheap CCD camera monitored.

I got to the building where the secret door was and found the keyhole after some fumbling. I was tired as hell coming down from an adrenaline rush. With the door closed behind me I walked down the stairs to sit in a dust cloth covered chair. I finally noticed the comms had gone silent it only dawned on me that I'd swapped it along with my armor set before I left the Boat Yard.

Switching back to my glowing suit set, including the earpiece, there was a lot of chatter on the line. Something about cordoning off Boat Yard itself until heavy hitters arrive.

Then console piped in. "Wait, I got a signal on Mine! She's further out, down by the DWU. Mine, call in if you are okay." Dennis's voice sounded concerned and then relieved.

"Sorry about that. I switched armor sets to dim the light trail I was leaving. I left Lung in a sealed cargo ship with a few thousand gallons of seawater to play with. He flash steamed it and took himself out of play for just a bit. I ran." Even I could tell I was babbling.

"Deep breaths, Mine." I heard Miss Militia say.

"All right, there is no Ward trapped in there. Cordon off the area and stay out of sight. Cancel the call for help from New york. Try to get any homeless you spot to a safe distance. Dragon, please bring the suit in anyway, we may still need to negotiate with Lung. I will monitor until you arrive, but I am turning my comm off, going to text only..."

I heard the ping announcing a direct line. "Mine, where are you exactly? I am nearly on top of you according to the GPS, but the building is unoccupied." Miss Militia? Oh damn, I never told her about locating this place.

"Coming." I stood up and took a step, blurring my way up the stairs. I stopped before opening the door and took my comm off the set into hand, switched to stealthier armor -dark brown and woody then put the comm back in my ear. "Ground level, an alley leading to a plain brick wall."

I palmed my PRT phone out of inventory and hit it for light. Two missed calls -oh boy. I heard the crunch of gravel and waved my phone face around a bit past the door.

Vista and Miss Militia approached. "Come on in. I was meaning to show you this place. Found it when I tunneled up this way to make a way out of the house for in costume exits."

Vista followed in easily skipping down the stairs. I guess knowing you could only fall a foot by choice gives her a lot of confidence on stairs. Militia swung the door almost shut and then opened it to come in.

"That is really good camouflage Mine, how did you do…." she got a look at the rest of the room's dust cloth covered furnishing, deep red carpet, paintings and oak paneled walls. "If your powers did this, I am going to call bullshit again."

"No. Actually." I rubbed the back of my head, "Er, finder's keepers?"

Vista cried out "Marquis!"

Militia had a large bore rifle out panning it around in a flash of green. I smirked a little but then noticed the sword and shield in hand and quickly banished them into inventory. When I looked back, Hannah had also switched to a handgun -which is as close to disarmed as she gets in the field. We exchanged looks and turned to Vista who was staring up at a painting.

The painting showed a man in a chair, no a _throne_ made all of bones. He had a mask on, but was wearing a smoking jacket and pants and was holding a snifter of brandy in it. Miss Militia felt around the room edge and found a light switch. The lights turned on dimly at first, then grew in strength.

"I've heard about the man. He was sent away before I came to the Bay. There was a notation in a file I read that said he had multiple hideouts that he used to stay out of the way of the cops and the original PRT groups or the Brockton Bay Brigade. He was eventually captured at home of all things when he stopped shuffling for a while." At our looks she added sheepishly, "When you don't sleep, it leaves a lot of time to read."

"Console here. Is Mine okay?", this sounded like Triumph.

"Yes. We are with her. She seems fine. We are out of sight near the DWU, in one of her tunnels." Miss Militia noted.

"Got it. Armsmaster is on scene where Lung was last sighted. It looks like he is tuckered out. He is about halfway down to regular size, banging around and knocking things over. Armsie has his comm off and Dragon is relaying to him in text form -they were nervous Lung might overhear chatter giving away your position -or his."

We were looking around the rooms. It seemed like someone must have been taking care of things for a little while after Maquis got sent away. The dust covers showed that clearly. The power was still connected, making me wonder if there was a connection to the DWU itself. Let's see, fifteen years ago, dad was still the assistant, not the head man of the union. This might predate him entirely.

"The key?" Militia asked.

"It was inside the key box inside the doorway."

Vista piped in, "Where did you come in?"

"There, you can see my door in the paneling over there." I gestured.

"Did you leave it open?"

Alarmed, I turned and she was right. The door was open. Fuck! Closing the door, I looked around frantically and spotted a dumbwaiter kind of arrangement going up to the dock level. There were storage rooms on that side, I think. The top of the dumbwaiter cage is open, so something might have shimmied up the shaft.

Sword out now. I held it ready as I leaned in to look up. Vista had the dagger I gave her out. Miss Militia switched to a bigger pistol but eyed Vista who stuck out her tongue. "You are a bad influence on her, you know." She said to me, smiling to take the edge off it.

"I think I know where to go to find the top end of this dumbwaiter. I can't let something from the tunnels wander around up there. It might hurt someone." I was heading for the stairs, and they followed. Outside, I stepped around the building, to the dock side and went up to the loading ramp. About a block away, the water access for unloading was visible. Here the buildings were open on one side for easy moving of cargo up to a level to load trucks. Storage areas for cargo prepared to load or just in to be transferred to other trucks were closed rooms here. I used the map to find the one that should contain the dumbwaiter. Just as I was about to check the door I heard a muffled thump behind me and spun.

There was one of those huge bone and muscle dog things there, along with purple spandex girl. She was holding a lunchbox in one hand and a small pistol in the other.

"Hey there!", she said sliding down the side of the thing and standing next to it. The gun was down, not menacing me. She seemed pretty relaxed. "No worries, just being careful. We -as in the Undersiders- want to say we are sorry you got chased by Lung. Our bad, as they say."

-Sword is made of seven separate weapons overlaid dimensionally. Armor will protect from fire, makes user less affected by gravity while falling. Boots allow user to move to any position in reach in a step.

"Ow." She paused, looking to my right. "Can't really look at you. My power tries to figure out yours and just gets overwhelmed, you know?"

"I can't say that I do." I chimed.

She focused on the window and went white. I heard the glass breaking, the window to the storage room I'd been about to enter. A black fuzzy form the size of a beach ball, with legs in all directions and red glowing eyes landed and scurried for her. Her pistol was rising, but it was the dog monster thing that stepped forward and stomped with both front feet. The spider was now a flattened furry mess.

"Thanks 'Gelica." Spandex chuckled. "My hero." she looked down again after a moment. Setting the lunchbox on the ground. "If you weren't attached, we would be offering you a position with us, but I don't _think_ you can leave the PRT so easily." she put a funny emphasis on think there. "There's two grand in there, direct from my employer, to help change the mind of anyone we ask to join. It's yours, even if you have other plans, for getting Lung off our tails."

She was stuffing her gun in the holster when she stopped and looked again at where the spider had been. It was evaporating. In it's place was a small vial of red liquid and a jewel. Her eyes behind her mask went wide.

"Go ahead. You killed it anyway."

-Vial contains nanotech solution keyed to recreate damaged body using available DNA as sample. Uses organic material present to recreate host material -lasts for 24 hours and self destructs. Diamond, star cut, worth $12000 on open market. Spider was programmed inorganic shell that dissolved after damage accrued. Vial will reconfigure to avoid distinctive look after acquisition.

She stepped closer and reached down, picking up the vial which changed to a juice box as the others had. "A heal potion. Seriously?" then she picked up the jewel. "And a cut diamond worth six times what is in the lunchbox? You are such bullshit…" But she didn't put either down again.

"Um, any moment now, Miss Militia and Vista will be looking for me…"

"Right, right. Leaving now, truce in effect until gone. Name's Tattletale by the by."

"I'm..."

"Mine. I know, I always know." She mounted the dog thing, saluted to ride out into the darkness.

The crunch of gravel alerted me to Vista and Miss Militia coming around the corner. "Was that Tattletale?" Militia asked. "That explains the darkness over the area that hid which way you went. And also made us have to cautiously walk it. Grue, that's the cape that does the darkness thing, does something that disorients the senses within his field. Vista couldn't use her power in it."

I nodded, seeing as she didn't stop for me to answer. "She said thanks for diverting Lung away from them, left a lunchbox with money from their boss, the dog monster killed the spider I was after. Oh and she got a heal pot and a diamond from the drop." I was ticking points off on my fingers.

Vista was getting ready to give me the puppy eyes again. "I didn't get any jewel drops."

Forestalling her I tossed her a green jewel -Emerald? Peridot? I don't know my gems, but it was a cut stone so whatever -jewel.

"Oh. It's beautiful. I am soo going to mount this on my helmet."

I could see Miss Militia reaching for it, but apparently Vista could too as the distance between them stretched out to twenty feet or more. "Nuhuh. Somebody wants to walk back to the Rig."

"Somebody has a car parked right around the corner." Militia quipped back.

"Down girls. That could be paste and glass for all you know."

"Being able to reconfigure matter into other materials, even if it comes with insane rules, is too important to play dress up over!"

I popped out a pair of sapphires -blue things I think are sapphire- the size of peas. "Not even if they'd make really popping earrings that totally go with your eyes?"

She wavered. "Well…"

"Give in. Let go and become one with the jeweled side…" Vista said to her side, using the Emperor voice from Star Wars.

"Fine. But you turn over one to Armsmaster for testing." she hissed, snatching the sapphires and pocketing them.

"What color are Dragon's eyes?" I said waggling my eyebrows.

A voice came over the comm I had only heard a few times. "I would prefer Topaz myself. Can you produce any kind or is it random? And why did you ask?"

"Busted…" whispered Vista.

"It's kind of random, though there were a bunch in a chest … Might have topaz -that is yellow, right?" I was shuffling through the gems and money page of inventory. "As for the other, the Wards think you two are an item. Sorry about prying."

"Interesting. And yes we work together a lot. Closely." her voice on the comm faltered. "Not close enough by a longshot."

"Ouch." All three of us echoed.

Dragon rallied, "Let's take this off comms, he is about to…"

"Attention, PRT and Protectorate affiliates. Lung has rejoined his gang and is clothing for a return to his home. Break off surveillance and stay out of their way. Nice job Mine in leading him out to the Boat Yard. Regroup at the downtown offices and debrief." Armsmaster was all job. I bet Dragon prompted him to say nice things -or maybe he had a program to ghost write his speeches.

Miss Militia turned off the live feed from her comm and mine, whispering in my ear. "If it's said near a device figure Dragon can listen in."

"I heard that." a voice came muffled from my pocket -my PRT issue phone!

We chuckled and headed back to the Marquis room to change into civvies. For Militia that was just some glasses, and ponytail, reversing her jacket to a nondescript blue lining, and moving her holster inside the jacket. I wondered about Missy -Vista- but she took off the armored dress and folded it up until the whole thing was small enough to fit in a daypack.

"Heh, space is my bitch." she quipped.

"Missy, language!" Hannah shot back.

I swiped to my Taylor jogging suit and just looked at them as they rolled their eyes.

"Whut?"

As we started walking out, I noticed one more picture, Marquis without a mask and a little girl. It was tucked into the frame of a portrait of a woman with a haunted look in her eyes, brown hair. Why _did_ she remind me of Panacea?

We headed out after clicking off the lights. It never dawned on me to check under all the furniture dust cloths. Red eyes followed us up the stairs.

****Spawn 12

The morning dawned brightly and it was beautiful. Still no school. My public announcement was set for Friday night. Oh, and I have group therapy today. Right. The good feeling, yes they are gone.

I did some harvesting -if you could call touching stacks of veggies and have them pop into inventory 'harvesting' and found only a few of the berries were ready, but the rest was a good crop. Seems like the amount I can carry has increased, maybe it just expands based on how much area I've got planted? I may have to test that thought…

I had the morning to myself, and well my school situation would not be resolved until the placement tests were graded out. Of course, with PRT backing, I would be able to attend Arcadia, but I wanted to enter in classes I would continue to take -not interim ones I'd leave after a week.

But here I had a chock full set of ingredients and some time to play. I even had a little money to spend that wouldn't be traced back. The lunchbox contained a note as well saying that their boss was Coil, a b-list gang leader that mostly used mercenaries with Tinker tech weaponry. The Undersiders was one of two groups reporting to him, and he had moles in all levels of the PRT. I tabled that thought to bring up with the Director well, directly.

So, I've got all the veggies. I need the meats. Sounds like a trip to the Butcher is in order.

There is only one real meat market to speak of in Brockton Bay. It is deep in Empire 88 territory. I mean, of course there are others, but I just don't want to skimp on a real dish. This does not look like a job for Taylor-me though.

This would pretty much be my first open use of powers in the daytime -as me anyway. I can't count running around looking like Velocity really. I took the bus downtown as Taylor and went to the library. I got a few looks because it was a school day, but I went into the stacks and down to the basement.

This was the special section, the morgue if you will. They had newspapers still, microfiche and films. No one went down here much anymore. Not with the internet. But until it was all scanned in and converted to bits, it would remain a source of information they kept intact. In the very back, the one room they did lockup was the reserve section -old books in climate controlled containment. I wasn't heading there, but having been here often with mom years ago, I knew where the bathroom on this level was.

Going into the bathroom in the basement was a trip back in time to the seventies. I listened a moment to be sure it was all clear and switched to stealthy armor. It was wood based, looking woven kind of like basketweave. Leaf shaped slats formed a helmet that held my hair back. Retracing my way up by the stairs I left using the side doors. Heh, this armor had a green cloak of leaves and so I was leaving the odd fluttering leaf behind me.

On the street I headed out. It was only a few blocks down the street to German Town Sausages. They have a storefront for regular customers but around the back is the old style market. Dad used to come here for sides of beef for the DWU cookouts. Well, back before things got so tight. I rolled up and went to the desk, waiting in line behind some folks dressed as chefs, here to pick up orders.

I was looking at the daily listing on the chalkboard. Hmm. Looks like a side of beef is just under a thousand. The diagram of cuts was very interesting to me, almost felt like a recipe forming there. Oops, they were all looking at me now. The two in chef gear had stepped aside and the guy at the desk cleared his throat.

"Yes, Miss?"

"Hi. I don't have an order in, but I'd appreciate if you could give me a side of beef and whatever is leftover in a sampling of large sausages, and pork. I opened the lunch box and took out the two thousand and stacked it in front of him. "Can you fill this order now?"

He started a little. "Um, yes. We can. Where would you like it delivered? A side of beef is a significant buy, are you sure you can handle that?"

"I can take delivery of everything here. If I could borrow a table, I think I can do the cuts myself." I dimpled, just a little curtsey in that, thankful this helmet showed my lower face.

"Well now, I hadn't heard of a cooking cape." A new voice came through. A rather large guy, all muscle from the waist up based on the definition hiding behind the apron. "I'm Yanush, I run this place." He sized me up. "You know this is neutral ground, right?"

"I'm not here to fight anyone. And if they don't bother me, I won't bother them."

"You ah, look a little petite to be tossing around a load like that. How are you going to -oh are you a teleporter?" He waved me to follow him inside.

Following him and casually popping the now empty lunchbox into inventory I answered. "I don't teleport no, but I do have a sort of inventory space I can put things -lots of things. You can call me Mine."

He chuckled and I braced for the Abbott and Costello reference. "It's a week or two early for Valentine's, but I'm flattered -and married." Oh gawd, there are two ready made jokes on it! He chortled a bit but quickly added. "Sorry, can't help but tease a bit. Here is my own workstation. If you can do half of what you claim I may want to hire you out sometime."

It was a butcher block the size of a table. Next to it was a cart at the same height, steel with rails on three sides to retain cuts. A track in the ceiling let him bring meat from the cooler right into the area. I could see plastic slats covering the door, he shrugged through them and eased a huge slab of meat my way.

"So, have you cut meat before?"

"No, but no time like the present hey?" I turned and looked at the diagram in here. "So, do you normally cut off pieces and work with them or take pieces from the whole?"

He guffawed at that. Turning, he opened a drawer and brought out a set of knives reverently. "Do you have your own set…"

I was standing there with my sword out. Tapping the meat with it, sections disappearing straight to inventory. I took the hind leg off to inventory and brought it out to the table again. Tap, Tap. Sections came free according to the chart. Small sections, fat and sinew removed or left behind.

"Um, Well then. There is a waste container to the side there."

"Waste not, want not. I have recipes that use just about everything here. Right down to the bones. It's really helpful to have the diagram though, thanks." I did have to make a fork tool on the fly to help but it only took a second. I needed it mostly to keep the sections from rolling over as I targeted others. "This is a really nice block. I may need to get one of my own."

"Sure. So how long you been a cape now?" he asked quietly.

"Oh, maybe a couple of days now. Yeah, it's total bullshit. I get that a lot." I smiled, now taking steaks off the mid section a tap at a time. "You mind if I wrap some of these?"

His nod was mute. I could just see several other workers outside, looking in with their jaws open. He pointed to a roll of butcher paper. I tapped it and made the whole roll disappear.

Yanush grunted. "How does that work?"

I paused, it was work after all. At least it drained me as much as doing the work would have. "I can cross things in my inventory. Paper plus sirloin and ..." I popped out the wrapped sirloin on my hand. It was the biggest steak I'd ever touched really.

He was sweating looking over to the other room. "You know I have a son, about nineteen. He's a good worker, handsome and all ... if you need a boyfriend ..?"

"Down boy! I came here for a side of beef, but this is what I had in mind." I snickered and gestured again with my sword to the hanging remains. All joking aside, I could probably take the whole slab into inventory and section it faster there… Doh.

"Okay, I need to wrap this part up. So let's take this internal, kay?" The next tap took the front half of the side of beef completely. Hmm Room issues to work with, probably have to expand the farm zones if that's how it worked.

"Darn, too much corn and melons." I thought I was talking to myself but Yanush chuckled.

"You got corn and melons, in this season? Do you take barter? I have some lobsters in from the bay to trade." He was playing along now probably humoring the demented cape.

I checked things in inventory. Ah, it's the size thing. Using the worktable tab required some empty space to work with. The rest of the meat was stacking nicely together. Right. Okay, corn and melons, yeah there were some oddballs leaking into separate stacks there. I brought out four large cylindrical watermelons onto the counter with the drawers. A basket of corn just less than a bushel.

Yanush dropped his jaw nicely. Before was just bullshit, this was fucking magic to him. With the extra space I sectioned out the rest easily, bones to bones, meat to meat, sinew to well whatever stack that was.

While I was distracted with the internal shuffling, some of the workers wheeled in a selection of pork products and sausage. And a box of lobsters, ready for shipment. I shuffled out a few more bushels of corn to get all that in place. Might have to drop some of that boat somewhere soon.

"Whew. I think I will be needing to drop some other inventory items soon. I ahem ate a ship yesterday… And it's going straight to my hips."

That got a nervous chuckle. Yanush gave me a card to call ahead any orders I wanted. He also got my PRT phone number and the email associated with it when I said I would likely have some overstock on the veggies.

Heading back out front to go to the Rig, there was a contingent of Empire goons across the street. Floating above the street was a man being held up by two ghostly copies of himself and flanked by four more copies, was Crusader.

"Welcome, my dear. What brings you to the Empire?" he seemed confident of his position.

"Crusader, right? Does Kaiser know you are bothering customers of the businesses he claims to protect?"

He looked poleaxed. "But, You entered and came out with no packages…"

Yanush came out then, followed by two boys, pretty hot after all. May have to look into that 'son' of his… Ah. Another time.

"Neutral ground! You should know better than to mess with my customers."

I turned and waved Yanush back, winking. To Crusader, "Can we keep this just between us capes here? Tell the burly boys to go back to whatever rock they crawled out from under."

"Oho! You have confidence for one so young." he turned and waved his gang bangers off a ways. "Yes, do go back. I do not think we will be needing you for this whelp."

I switched armor then to the good stuff, the glowing chest plate and metal helmet. Sword out and my squared off shield. Yanush backed off thankfully as the others did.

I stepped out onto the thankfully clearing road. From this angle I could just see the rig, to my right out in the Bay itself.

"Now then, we can …" Crusader was talking to air. I had left in a blur of lime green light, heading down the street. "Hey!"

A voice in my comm spoke up as I put the third block between us. Dragon. "That was sneaky. I approve. But you may not like the discussion Miss Militia is currently planning. There are rules of engagement for the Wards you will need to catch up on. If you didn't have therapy scheduled this afternoon I would bet you would be in that class."

"Were you monitoring that whole time?"

"Oh no, I just thought it prudent to remind you of the therapy session. Which you will be running late for unless you do your water running trick again."

Oh crap. Inventory full! "Um Dragon, is there somewhere by the ferry that I can dump a load of pure metals? I need the space for the seawater if I have to dig my way out again."

"Pure metal? You mean like the kind your sword is made of?" she sounded interested now.

"Well, that and about Ten tons of salvaged steel from that boat yesterday. A few hundred pounds of brass, aluminum, wood. You get the idea."

"There is a locked yard behind the ferry itself. Drop what… Oh never mind. Just ride the ferry in with the group, your therapist is just boarding."

By that point I was almost at the ferry itself. They started going but I shot out into the water and hopped a wave to land in the back of the boat itself. It was relatively empty but my boarding brought out the cameras in spades. I nodded and let them catch a few shots as I caught my breath and then blur stepped up to the front reserved for the heroes -and Wards, thank you very much.

There was another girl there, a little over my age by the look. She didn't have the dark costume -or dark skin for that matter- like Shadow Stalker, but she did have a big stinking Tinker crossbow. Her hips were covered in pouches with reels it looked like, and her bolt case looked like she could swap out the tips. She returned the look and nodded. The ferry was louder than I remembered and bumpy. And, oh yeah, sword and shield -swiped them into inventory to have hands free to hang on as it got really going.

"Armsmaster would be very interested in some of the metal you mentioned." Dragon piped in.

"

Drop by his lab on the way out from therapy. I am pretty sure the group session will be in the gym today."

I waited, trying to be heard over the ferry in motion was not worth the effort. Besides, I was enjoying this as the first ride over _as_ a Ward, as someone that belonged there. As it slowed down, the ferry leveled and the sound dropped to reasonable.

The girl with the big crossbow nodded to me. "Hey, I'm Flechette, out of New York. I got transferred down here as of today."

"Cool. I just joined up myself. My debut is Friday night. Call me ... Mine."

I waited, hand on hip. No joke.

She looked puzzled. "Hey listen, I started out with the name 'Foil' and had tin hat jokes for my first six months as a solo. When I joined the Wards, I changed it to Flechette." She grinned past her wraparound visor, showing pearly teeth, "I'm not one to throw stones." She paused a moment, "Besides, I'm a salad fan and I hear you have a mean garden. How do you feel about bamboo sprouts?"

I laughed a little. "Haven't tried them yet. The way my power interacts with plants they may grow too fast for that. Yeah it's that weird."

The ferry docked and we debarked. Right after us a couple PRT employees debarked and joined us in the elevators. I had to shuffle a bit to get my id ready. I'd forgotten which set of clothes had them in it.

One of the women gave me a searching look as she waited for the elevator now that we were in the PRT only section of the base.

"Are you Mine?" she asked. At my nod she continued. "Oh good, no reason to round up any strays then. Flechette here knows me already, Vista is waiting in the gym. Battery and Miss Militia are going to join us as well today. I am Dr. Jessica Yamada. I am one of the staff psychotherapists mandated by the PRT. That puts me slightly less than the PR group on the dislike list." She smiled and then faltered when I didn't grin like Flechette did.

"Don't mind her doc. She had a name already and as you saw her costume is obviously power based. That means PR is 'hands off' until the debut. Next session she will be more aware of how PR drives the minds behind the scenes." She said that in ways that made me shiver for some reason. "See? She gets it already."

The door opened and the gym was there. Vista, Miss Militia and Battery were all there, wearing shorts and white t-shirts. Flechette grabbed a bag, tossed it to me and took one herself. It had shorts and a white t-shirt. She headed for the change room off to the side. I followed in and found a stall to change in.

"Is this shoes or no shoes?" I asked over the wall.

"MMmmgh." pause, rustling noises. "Shoes. Best not to use ones that you care getting mussed though. She likes messy games."

"I heard that." Dr. Yamada said from the stall just down from us.

I swiped out my jogging suit to make room, then put the shorts and shirt in and moved them to a clothing slot. Then I moved my armor over and the shirt-shorts on. I grabbed my sweatpants and shirt and bundled them up. The shoes I was wearing now were from my clothes, the boots went with the armor. Too much to track.

As I stepped out and brushed my hair -that I had in inventory as well as a basic purse set- and put it up, Flechette came out and glanced at my sweats in disbelief. Without her costume, the Asian heritage was more pronounced. I kinda thought she was Hawaiian before.

"That isn't your armor, is it?"

"No. My inventory is full up so I had to move this to my civilian slot to put it on. That meant dropping something else." I smiled as she mouth something suspiciously like 'bullshit'. "By the way, Taylor."

"Lily."

We walked out and found another six or so women in the shorts and shirts combo. They had a similar look to them, so I assumed PRT Troopers or employees.

"Ladies, I am Doctor Jessica Yamada." She looked younger in shorts. "Today, we are going to loosen up some inhibitions with a couple games. Some of you are capes, and won't be using your powers today. Some of you are not and will also not be using powers." A chuckle there.

"The point of this is to introduce you to people you will work with, and perhaps get a little messy." She laughed. "Okay, in your waist tags are numbers, a 1 or a 2. Those are your teams."

For the rest of the day it seemed we ran relay races with eggs on spoons. Colored eggs, around cones. Every little misstep seemed to be designed to add colors to us, the cones had paint on them as did the tires we had to step through. There were strips of plastic hanging down that had paint. Sooo much paint.

As we got paint on our hands we ended up transferring it to the others in turn. I caught on to the trick of it, happening to bump the handle on the cones as I passed the hula-hoop on in the chains. Tipping a cone into the path of the opposing team. It became more about getting the other team dirty than about winning the heats.

And then there was the variant of telephone, where we each gave a message in a line to the next. The difference is that we were _supposed_ to garble it. Swapping words for others to see if we could mangle the message. But we all mangled the words almost the same way because we couldn't hear the next down the line.

"Watch out for the one armed man." Became.

"Watch out for the one armed woman." Became.

"Watch out for the one armed child." Became.

"Watch out for the one armed boy." Became.

"Watch out for the one armed man."

Doctor Yamada stood in front of us, just as streaked with paint as the rest. Her face had a nice streak of blue to it that I swear Vista used just a hint of power on her. "And so we to learn from this that intentional mistakes can have a more predictable result than accidental."

"Ladies, this is the first step. You have worked with one another today. You will all be working with me and with others. You will also be working with each other. I hope you can learn to accept the fact that the world is a dirty place out to make us all the more dirty outside and in…" She gestured at a streaked arm and face and hands. "Who among us is without the marks of the world today?"

Then she turned and knocked the lid off a garbage can that had been sitting there, added during the different events. There were others around the room.

"And now, the final fact. When the day is over and the grime is built up, you come home and you get to wash it clean." With a smile she picked up something from the can. I spotted Battery, er Jessica and Hannah drifting back to the edges as well, dipping into the cans for colored globes. Water balloons! The melee was extensive. Vista cheated a bit to help us three claim a can of our own, but that only meant we were targeted by three different groups.

It did help clean the colors off a bit. You could tell after a moment though. Flechette tossed balloons into the air seeming like random, but the came down to strike the heads of assailants without a miss. And it was always just enough doubt as to where it came from that they were not sure who sent it. I grabbed the lid and used it like a shield.

There came a point when we ran low on ammunition. The other groups nodded and appeared to call a truce to drag their cans closer to us. Vista spread them out but they just kept coming. Since I saw Hannah and Jessica holding back I felt it was time to flex a little 'muscle' myself. There is a reason why capes are known to be competitive.

As they got close enough to charge I reached into inventory and pulled a _fresh_ water cube. Just as they ran in to go for it, I popped the cube and a wave of water hit them like a firehose. It got all the way to the back and just splashed Hannah a bit.

There was a moment of silence, then one started laughing. It caught and spread to several others. Pretty soon there was a roomful of very damp women -okay soaked like rats. The door buzzer sounded and someone pounded on the door itself. Like one, every woman in the room scrambled for the changing room -all except me.

Unlike them, I didn't have to worry about a wet t-shirt situation. I switched to my armored, helmeted form and walked to the door -visible in the small window as a vague shape. As the rest made it in -no doubt helped by Vista shrinking the distance to it. Hell, she might have made the change room bigger too. There just wasn't the room for them all normally.

Going to the door and opening the latch I found Assault.

"Hello poppet. Have you seen my wife about? She said she'd be in the group thing until three and it's like three fifteen."

"They are changing out of some wet clothes."

"_All_ of them?" he waggled eyebrows.

"You are such a perv! Vista is in there too."

He had the grace to cringe a little. "Oh. Well, image ruined. Thank you very much." He seemed to be grinning still. He started to push past me and I just held up another water globe, treating it like the grenade I knew it was.

"Assault, I have here a compressed block of seawater. If you persist, I will see how you handle the entire hallway filling with it. I am betting kinetic control doesn't cover area denial."

Something must have shown in my eyes as his narrowed and then his eyebrows went up and he backed off slowly. He got about twenty feet down the hall and turned to run down it like I'd set fire to it.

I heard snickering behind me and saw Battery and Miss Militia were some of the first changed and walking my way. Okay maybe he saw them coming. I heard Miss Militia ask Dragon if she could have all footage of the training exercise restricted, but would like a gif loop of me facing down Assault.

"Oh my, yes. Of course, the water bomb attack -suitably edited- will be added to Mine's listings."

Armsmaster straightened up from his workbench. He had not been sure before but now it seemed that whatever strange space Mine's powers took things was almost entirely made up of nanomachines. Anything taken there was adjusted by them. It wasn't pure matter conversion, but rearrangement on a scale beyond comprehension.

The Stringgun was the kicker. There were still maker marks on the original barrel where it was not adjusted. The areas that were changed were infused with defunct nanomachines that were inert within the material now.

The vial of healing that had been used on Hess supplied a mix of nanomachines that had been active for twenty four hours after the seal was broken, and anything organic touching it was 'fixed' to perfection during that time. Afterwards they simply broke down into their component trace elements to be absorbed into the body. Efficient. Magnificent.

The ideas presented to him morphed and changed. Nano thorns? Like using nuclear energy to power a steam ship. Like destroying ant piles with dynamite. The logic behind these structures would take time, and effort to create even the most basic. But with Dragon's help, perhaps.

The most astounding thing though was that the Stringgun could be recreated with current materials. The string itself was just fibers aligned like plastic, polymer chains that unwound and set solid as heat was applied. The containment foam mixture that morphed from one chemical chain to another as it set was beyond him still, but taking an existing mixture in capsule form around the strings? Child's play. His way could pack more in, but he could see the original form in front of him which could be churned out like nuts and bolts.

He sent the results of his tests to Dragon, knowing she very likely had them already. She was in his systems as often as he was these days, noting code he could clean up. She was amazing really. Now why hadn't he told her that yet?

His heart rate rose. The monitor in front of him changed to a view of her face, the cyber connections she fuzzed out for other people showed in his image for her. The connections and tubes that kept her in her lab in Canada, a concession to his interest in helping her well being. He'd even offered to bring her one of Mine's potions, but there were issues she said. Issues that meant a pot might not fix her before her own connections to life support broke down.

There was a faint hint at a lie there. Something in omission. Perhaps a little fear of body shaming. There had not been a Case 53 Tinker known to date, but that did not mean there could not be one.

Her face looked at him and she brought up the time. "It's nearly four in the afternoon Colin. You haven't slept in twenty four hours, nor eaten since that snack at two AM."

"I am done for now anyway. The notes are on the way, the scans on the Stringgun weapon. You can start manufacturing right away, there isn't a piece of it that can't be made by standard machinery. In fact, several components are off-the-shelf."

"Really?!" she crowed, "Wonderful. I wonder if it could be scaled up as well? A rope cannon maybe..."

"Frayed knot."

She paused. "Did.. Did you just make a joke? Oh, Colin you need some sleep badly. After a sandwich. Turkey. Milk. Stat."

He stood up. She had the backdoor access to his armor, and she was not averse to using shocks from his feedback system to remind him of her waypoints. Turning toward the door, he wondered if Mine had gotten around to bringing in more tomatoes and lettuce. They made for some very good sandwiches...

****Spawn 13

Dad came home to a different house than he left, without really knowing it. The old style house was wood clad in metal siding. I was mining out the wood from the inside, to just inside the cladding and replacing it with metal from the boats. Good solid metals. I left the glass intact, but generated diamond material lining, all while pretending to be washing them with a bucket and rag. I made short work of that damn wooden step, of all of them really. I carried out stone blocks from inside the house to lay in place, and my bricks do _not_ need cement to stick together.

The front door was replaced with a metal one with it opened to the furthest position. I just took it into inventory, crossed metal with it pulled it back right into place a whole lot more sturdy than before. Back door the same, although where the glass was, I sealed it with diamond as well.

When dad arrived he trudged in and shut the door with a clunk.

"Clunk?" He opened it again and felt the weight of it swinging. He rapped the glass and it also sounded -off. "Honey? Have you been remodeling?"

"Yes Dad."

"May I ask why?"

"Well part of it was I needed to drop a lot of metal from that ship you wanted mined out. I figure the extra structural support will help if you get targeted by the gangs. They sometimes find out who the family of a Ward is. Or hell, just a random drive by."

He looked up to the ceiling which had a slightly more textured look than the interior walls. "And the upstairs?"

"I was getting there, but I also had to do justice to this."

Dad's eyes got so big it looked like one of those black velvet paintings involving clowns and puppies. He wasn't nose blind, but the oddity of the house was enough to confuse the carnivore in him. The T-Bone steak I was moving to his plate. It was not overlapping the lip of the plate. But it was the biggest plate we own.

I had given him something he had missed terribly. Tears of joy were in his eyes. "Oh, that is soo good. And the horseradish…" He stopped talking for some time, at least coherently. I refilled his tea and ate a little off my own. But it was hard to put a dent in it for me. Snacking the whole time I was working on the house -carrot sticks mainly- was going to be an issue. It was a good thing any food I put into inventory was time frozen effectively. Put it in hot and take it out the same.

He got a strange look in his eyes. "Kiddo, how did you pay for this?"

"Don't panic dad. There was a fight that I was close to. Lung was involved and he sort of set his sights on me when he couldn't grab the Undersiders. I led him up to the Boat Yard and made myself scarce."

He choked and had to cough a bit to clear his throat. "L-Last night?" He kind of waved toward the yard, "I heard the PRT and I saw the news. It just didn't dawn on me that you were in the thick of it."

"Dad, he couldn't lay a finger on me. I can do a pretty solid Velocity impression. Heck, Crusader didn't even get a chance… And I shouldn't have mentioned that." I trailed off as he took a long drink to cover the redness in his cheeks.

"Why don't you tell me all about last night and today…" It was not a question.

He wasn't all that put out when I glossed over the rage dragon chasing halfway across town. He looked alert when I said I had a place to hide near the DWU. The butcher shop had him looking down at the half of his steak again, nibbling. When I told him how I got Crusader to send off his thugs, he smiled. Especially when I told him I hightailed it out.

"That won't work twice. But at least you got the once out of it." He squinted at me. "So why are there flecks of paint in your hair?"

"Ah. Well that was part of some group therapy opener sessions. All women from the Troops, the Protectorate and the Wards. I met Shadow Stalker's replacement, one hundred percent improvement there, and got to meet Battery with her hair down. And I got to play a little with my powers against others."

"Well training is all good. But the house?"

"Its an urge now dad. Tinkers have it worse, but for me the inventory gets too full. Bam, I just got to do something with it. There is a link to how much I can carry and how much farmland I have going. Both are going up, but it feels like I'm missing something. As for the house, it makes me feel safer. It is safer for you as well."

Dad got up, walked into the living room. He opened the drawer to his little desk and fished around in the back of it for a coffee can. From that he pulled a false bottom and took a key out. It matched the one I had for the brick door to Marquis's clubhouse.

"You found it right?" He was waiting for me...

I held up my copy of the key. He relaxed, letting out a whoosh of breath.

"I was there you know. He'd sent me to close it up and put up the covers. He was retiring, his daughter living with him. Marquis was turning everything legit and proper when the Brockton Brigade jumped him in his own home. He knew they'd got his real identity then. If he had run, his daughter, all his people would be rounded up and sent away for being accomplices."

He sighed. "Yes, he killed. No he didn't do it wantonly. To him it was a responsibility. Noblesse Oblige. He made the rules, he kept them. No one dared to commit a rape. No one embezzled old ladies -well not into the street. It's ironic that the Dallon girls, the mothers not the current generation, they owe him their lives."

"What?" I asked.

"Yeah. The crew that kidnapped them were out-of-towners looking for a score. Kidnap some girls, maybe send something of theirs home all bloody to speed up the ransom. Marquis let it be known if there was any body parts sent through the mail, he'd be sending some male parts by special courier." Dad chuckled. "We were sent to watch the site, the cops were practically dragged into position nearby. We caught two of the thugs and left them for the cops. Next thing we hear, the girls had triggered and tore the place up themselves."

"Marquis sent them a bottle of champagne when they got married. Brandish took it as a threat, not as it was meant. He approved. Heroes who wouldn't all disappear when there was a threat elsewhere. He meant them to keep the streets safe in the daytime like he was doing at night. Until his ex showed up with a daughter in tow." He stared into a glass of ice that had been filled.

"Honey, you should know Marquis left the lair, bunker, whatever you want to call it. He bequeathed it to anyone or any group that would protect the Bay. He admitted his way wasn't the only way… It was just the only way he knew."

"You. henched. for Marquis?" I found myself sitting down now. "And no one knew?"

"Some guys. My old boss. Most have retired and moved on by now. Severance package was okay, but most of mine went into this house." he looked around. "At least I got severance. Your mom just quit Lustrum's gang and ..."

"Whut?"

"Okay, could have done that better. Your mom was a henchwoman... It's how I met her. She was a second for Lustrum. She quit when Lustrum started getting too physical, to into the beatings. You know how your mother was!"

"I thought I did." a pause "Wait. So that story about meeting in a college bar was all bunk then?"

"Well, it was a bar yes. And we were meeting under neutral rules -Somer's Rock. And she was still in college then..." He dodged the pillow I tossed at him.

He got back on track reluctantly, "When the lights came up it caused a light to come on in my office, one that is supposed to keep me posted on his coming and going. It hasn't lit for a long time." He laughed. "One of my first jobs was taking food deliveries and bringing them around to the dumbwaiter. We fixed the window by the way." He gave me an eyebrow.

"Oh crap! One of the spiders got out that way."

Dad shuddered. "Tell me I won't need to sweep with baseball bats ready every morning."

I thought about it. "You might want to steer clear of downstairs then. They spawn wherever my tunnels are, and something is opening doors."

He looked past me to the basement door, slightly ajar.

"No worries. I have been sealing the floor every time I go in and out here. They can't open walls or ceilings." Internally I added, 'yet'.

As it got fully dark and the other houses in the block turned out lights, I started swapping blocks out for the wood out to the cladding again. At this level it was vinyl siding out there. Mostly this was a matter of perfecting what was there, adding a nice thin layer of diamond as needed. This was less for 'load bearing' structure and more for protection from the elements. The added insulation effect meant we wouldn't have to run the heater half as much.

The roof was trickier.

I got all the lights shut off with Dad's help and assurance I could have it back in just a few minutes work. I took out Mr. Swipey in the attic and took down the roof in a couple big swings. The practice on the boat helped. Then I set the edges to the house and up to the ridge beam, and just set sections between. This was reformatted shingles on the outside with a thicker section of diamond inside and intermingled. Because I got the 'recipe' for each section as I pulled it in, I was able to recreate the wiring just the same.

By morning, 'Fortress Hebert' was immune to small arms, fire, and probably flooding. I slept just enough to count, waking refreshed and as Dad was leaving for work I added a single deep column up through the center of the House and down through the sealed zone. It had air passages in it that were only an inch wide, a slew of them really, to provide circulation without infiltration.

I finished and left the house in time to catch a morning bus to Arcadia. While I didn't have classes there, yet, I was able to sit in on a lecture and research in the library for a good part of the day without issue. It was known that I was a student transfer, and that was good enough for most.

I rode to the Rig in the same van that picked up Dennis and Chris, an unassuming taxi van driven by a familiar female face. She high fived me as I walked by to get in, getting a strange look from Chris. Dennis was engrossed in his phone, totally unaware of his surroundings. He didn't even notice me until we were pulling in and he was bounced into me on the seat.

Red faced, he got out and made for the ferry building quickly. They had to change in there. I swiped my costume form on while behind the building, zooming out a few hundred feet and then back around to the front of the ferry as if arriving from a longer trip. All the thought I'd put in worked out as I stopped with just a little hop as the last bit, leaving a little momentum from the starting step and getting a nice little scrunch of sliding gravel at the end. This made the illusion of continuous speed all the more believable. So cool.

I was on the ferry waiting in the PRT zone when they trooped out in their costumes. Missy -er Vista- was there as well, having been dropped off by an Accel driver. Fun fact, they tried to start a driver company like on Earth-Aleph called Uber. But Uber himself had filed Trademark rights beforehand and got to keep his name. So instead they used Accel -annoying a small time hero out west who had not Trademarked theirs.

Dennis plopped down by me where I stood waiting, lounging on the bench. "I hear you have Quinn Calle representing you. Do you know if he filed Trademark paperwork on your name?"

"Yes, he mentioned that right away. I was just thinking about it really, after seeing the Accel car pull out."

"Good thing that. Somebody on Earth-Aleph just launched a game… It was in Beta, and a final version and a real company backing it means they will have some lawyers to come calling. If they were from here I'd swear they had Precogs looking at your powers when they made it."

He held up his phone. On it a tiny into screen was showing a pickaxe wielding blocky protagonist. It was called Minecraft.

"Holy fucking shit."

"Language!" Miss Militia was walking up.

Dennis tilted the screen so she could see it. "I take that back. That _was_ an appropriate reaction after all. Possibly with a few words in other languages for emphasis. This might make your debut more tricky."

I didn't bat an eye. "Quinn Calle is handling my paperwork."

"Oh. Right. Well, never mind then." She seemed to relax, so I did as well.

The ferry ride took longer than yesterday, with Dennis making the occasional comparison to my powers and the game. Skeletons check. Armor, sword check. Had I made a house and bed yet? Check, but I didn't tell him that. Torches, farming, spiders -check-a-rooney. Creepers? What the fuck was a… oh, green explodey bastards, check! Then check the corners, check the closets and definitely check behind you.

Reaching the PR offices, I heard the arguments before I even opened the door.

"The name stands."

"But we can't have a Ward running around with a knock off of some video game!" loud reaction guy.

Mr. Calle. "The paperwork is dated three days ago. They didn't go public until today. Too bad for them."

"Their lawyers are citing prior claim for the Alpha and Beta versions!" loud reaction woman.

Mr. Calle. "If we were naming a game it would matter. They didn't file for the Trademark because it would have cost them money. Now it _is_ costing them, we own it." He had seen me come it.

"Young lady, we will not…"

I raised a hand forestalling them. "...be having a Ward debut if her name is changed one iota. You signed the paperwork on my contract. Is the PRT going to default on my terms? Then I will be walking." I knew my lines for this by heart. 'Not one stinking inch' is a family motto, we have it embroidered and hanging on the wall -It's a union thing.

"Fine. But that costume, surely we can…" loud guy again.

"Have you actually read the stipulations agreed on?" Mr. Calle sighed and flipped a copy open to the appendix. "See section 4a and b."

"...As the costume is not a costume, but a function of the power itself, there is to be no PR influence pushed on changing the costume. 4b For the same reasons, weapons are at the party of the first part's determination based on situation. For events without direct contact, any are acceptable. Where contact with civilians is intimate, weapons will be non-bladed or unequipped." He spluttered... He spluttered again! I am so glad I thought to record this! Clockblocker will love it.

Hmmm. I might get in trouble if I leaked it to PHO. I wonder if it would be worth it.

"Mine, you know that any video recorded on PRT equipment is theirs to censor at whim. Use my phone…" Mr. Calle handed me his phone so that the image barely jittered -it was already recording.

A heavyset man in the most garish mishmash of plaids and bright colors I'd ever seen waltzed in, clapping slightly. "Ah there she is. Mine! Haha. Just had to say it." he smiled and then thin lipped turned to Mr. Calle, "Quincy. Glad to see time hasn't blunted your weaponry."

"Oh no, I can't claim this one. Her Dad is the rep for the Dock Worker's Union, man. Put away the steamroller now and put on kid gloves for all our sakes."

"Really? That does explain some things. Well, places darlings. We have just enough time to run through our lines once before heading out to the downtown offices."

Once he said.

We went through it five times. Each time with one thing or another finding fault. We did it once more on the ride in the helicopter over.

Glenn Chambers, a name to inspire fear in the heartiest PRT troop, cape or Ward. More so of the Wards.

As we waited for my debut, he slipped up next to me and asked me how many costume combinations I had so far.

"About four really. It could be more over time."

He shivered with delight. "Oh the marketing treasure you are!" His smile grew wider. "Got..to..have..them..ALL!" He positively beamed. With that he pushed me toward the light and onto the stage. I didn't forget my lines, only stumbling a little when the Wards parted for me to walk out of their midst.

Glenn was off to the side as I spoke. I swear his eyes were glowing more than my armor was.

A/N Apologies to Grrlpower -I haf borrowed a joke, yes.

****Spawn 14

The party was fantastic. The press release detailing what I _could_ do, I was less happy about.

"But they have listed things you can do." Hannah had driven me home my civilian ID and hers. It was not about the steaks, really. It was the target practice.

"Yes sure. Mover 4 speedster along the ground. Striker 3 Healer through produced potions. Shaker 4 Able to move items to storage and return them later…" I paused and looked at her. "They were going to name me Ambulance, weren't they?"

"Nooo. There was a lot of leanings toward 'Medic' or 'Elixir' though. They are really hurting for a healing cape and were dead set on shoehorning you into that slot." She was finishing a snack. I'd tried tortillas before doing bread.

"Then it's just as well I never showed them I can process grain and make flat bread internally or they'd have tried to call me 'Mana'."

Hannah snorted, following me down into the basement. She got prepared with an airsoft gun. Not as many of those fit her power's definition of weapons -even her paintball options were overclocked 'goddamn-that-hurts' level of pressure. But they did have the benefit of being high rate of fire and quiet. We didn't want a repeat of the other night so soon.

As I opened up the floor it became obvious she was a good choice going in. The red eyes showing, well there were lots of them. I had my own shooter prepared, a fresh jar of 'hi-there!' loaded in. Mine wasn't so quiet, but it sounded like a blow dryer.

The regular spiders were all there. As were a few additions. Pig dudes riding the spiders. They could take more hits, but were otherwise nothing special. Ahah, maybe that's what was opening doors! These guys had hands.

We cleaned the line down to the clubhouse. Skeletons in the mix. A few sporting jackets with - colors? No. fucking. Way.

"Um, did you notice that group was being led by a skeleton wearing a green and gold jacket?" I tapped Militia -when in costume, think of the costumed self- to break her out of the focused mode she'd been in.

"Oh. Yes. ABB colors. Makes sense since we are below their area." She was smiling and sweating. Even with me doing all the 'picking up' there had been a good number in the 2 miles we'd passed through. I was getting a lot of webs -which my power filed as 'string'. Maybe six low level heal pots. A glowing switchblade -really? Power no, just no.

There was one outlier near dad's end. It shambled but there was flesh on it. My first shot to the chest didn't do much so I tracked it up to the head and then it dropped. Unlike the skeletons which at least had a goal, the zombie looking thing just sort of shuffled along. It barely acknowledged me until I got close and stumbled in from the side.

"Hmm. Rotted brains. If the skeletons are ABB analogs, then the zombies must be Merchants." Miss Militia smiled. "Your power seems to be consistent anyway."

"What do you mean by that?"

"The room in the Rig your plants are in contained the processing area we had setup the last time we brought in a bigger group of ABB for questioning. The rewards were slim so we never went for the low-tier members again like that -but your power recognized it and that's why you get skeletons. I'm just glad we didn't have you setup a plot near Lung's cell."

"You had Lung on the Rig?"

"Once. Most of a night. It was rebuilt with an option to eject the whole cell block if we choose to now. Catch him soon enough in the process and take away his enemy? Drowning becomes an issue…"

"Changing the subject, you want to stay for dinner?"

"That depends of course. What are you making?" She seems interested at least.

"Well there is a box of fresh Lobsters in inventory -it won't go bad or anything, but it is just begging to be used." I noted innocently.

"If you are trying to butter me up…" she looked back at me and her eyes gleamed, "That is just the right kind of butter. I'm in. Have you done bread yet?"

"No, well nothing more tricky than tortillas. Can you do biscuits?"

"I can indeed do biscuits. Too bad you don't have cows." She waxed thoughtful. "I wonder if you raised cows on your grass, would you get milk to match your carrots?"

"I'd be willing to try, but it would have to be someplace close enough that I can swing by and clear any spiders, or Skeletons etc that show. Mostly at night, mostly." I finished with a Newt voice from Aliens.

She shuddered.

"Too soon?" I asked.

"Just thinking there may be some bigger monsters to show. If your spawn points react to gang members, just imagine how they would to cape villains?"

Danny was closing up his office for the night. Taylor had texted him about heading home after the debut. It was annoying that the PRT asked him not to attend. One of the proudest days of his life -and that was why they didn't want the parents there. Might have outed her just by the width of my smile.

It was odd to think she would be spending more time out than in at night now. It shouldn't be a problem for her as her sleep requirements were less than an ER doctor's. Going out to his old beat up car, Danny avoided making eye contact with the one skinny loser on the corner.

Merchants had been scouting the area, looking for easy scores. Danny moved his short bat from the back seat to the front before he let his car get moving. He pulled even with the guard shack and waved to Tony inside. Tony was nursing coffee and had a phone in hand.

"Done called the PD about our little wanderer there. Too early for them to be on the move. Unless they figure all the capes be on the south side with the new Ward coming out. Then again they might be hosting a flash mob."

Danny considered that tidbit and noticed another three of four merchants posing on a rooftop across the way. "Tony. Leave your coffee and get in the car. They're targeting the dock offices."

Tony, being an older sort, took his time and pretended to put something in the backseat. Danny heard the thump and gunned the engine, Driving backwards into the main lot, he turned the car and then revved forward. Dousing the car lights, he turned a corner and stomped the brakes hard.

"Get out and stay in that alcove in the back, I'm going to leave it in drive." As Tony got out, Danny blessed the little bat for its size. He stuck his car in neutral, put the bat against the gas between the pedal and the seat and got out. Closing the door, he tossed his lunchbox back into the car to tap the old shifter out of neutral into drive. Stupid thing had almost killed him more than once, it was justice that it saved him now.

As the car started off, the lights came up again -stupid feature really- it drove out into the buildings of the DWU and the rest of the abandoned warehouses or old style storage leading out to the Market in general.

Danny then hustled Tony to the brick door and used the key to open it. Shutting it quietly, he urged Tony down the stairs. He texted Taylor there was crap happening at the DWU and was rewarded with a dootle beep from her phone downstairs. He grabbed Tony and stopped him.

"Tony, you can't tell anyone about this place... " he began.

"What? Marquis's old hidey hole? You are younger than you look Danny. Who do you think brought them the sandwiches before you?"

"I mean what it is now. The PRT are using it as a forward observation base to the Docks. There might be a cape downstairs - so we don't want to seem like we are sneaking down there." Danny raised his voice a bit.

"Keep it down man, the merchants might have back trailed your car once they see it's empty.", Tony wheezed on the stairs, his knees and lungs didn't much like the weather. His wallet didn't much like moving.

Danny caught the sight of the door almost closed and groaned.

I was just closing up with the tunnel at the hideout end when the text from Dad came through. 'Merch atk Dwu. Hiding down stairs.'

Oh the joys of spellchecker. I stepped back enough to speak on the comm. "Merchants attacking at the Dock Worker's Union. Send PD. Am on site, will check for capes."

"Negative Mine. You will wait for reinforcement. Console, roll the vans. I am rerouting." Armsmaster over the sound of his engine, already on patrol.

"Armsmaster, Militia here. I am two minutes from Mine, I will assess with her and report." Miss Militia jogged back my way, and together we opened and entered the hideout below the DWU.

Dad had been watching my door and held up two fingers. "Tony! Looks like they had someone close by."

"Yeah, yeah. Let me see if this old thing still works." Tony was in the corner, by the dumbwaiter. A column there shifted as he lifted it up. It looked like, no it actually was one of those old timey mechanical periscopes like on a World War II sub. How the hell?

"Marquis liked to see who was coming to visit." He chuckled. "Used to really scare the piss out of folks, him knowing they were walking up." He turned and spotted me and Miss Militia. "Speaking of piss." He stepped out of the way as Miss Militia took over the periscope.

"How many did you see Danny?"

"Danny, hey, why didn't you say you were tight with Miss Militia?" Tony shuffled over and sat down, groaning.

Danny looked daggers at Tony a second. "There were four on the roof and one in the open across the street. They don't come out like that unless Squealer is about to … "

Thump swish, swish, swish BOOM. Missiles? WTF!

Miss Militia had to look away from the periscope as the light bloomed. "I hope you were insured."

A badly tuned PA turned on out there, the volume cranking up despite the feedback. A few catcalls whining about the sounds could be heard as well. "Ladies and Shitstains, the Merchants are in the House!" his voice dimmed, then a whistling sound as if he was swinging the microphone by the cord. Thonk, beeeYOING. "Damn. That is a motherfucking Ford. Found On Road Dead. Hahaaa!"

The sound of something big moving into the parking lot, smashing down fences. "I don't care if they are hiding. Bring me the two shitstains ruining my fun."

"The guard shack and fence are down." Militia commented. "Console. Squealer made vehicle on site, cannot tell if it is the stealth job. All I see are the tops of wheels at roof height and some kind of Winnebago. Skidmark is visible and speaking. There were at least twenty gangers visible before her vehicle obscured line of sight."

I was busy at the door. Bringing out my gun, and a pair of wood chest plates that would fit over both men. "Mr. Hebert, over here." Lowering my voice. "There shouldn't be any fresh spawns all the way to the house. Close any doors behind you, shoot anything that moves. Wear the armor just in case. The other end isn't open but it's safer there than here."

Dad looked at Tony, who just huffed. "Nope. Staying here. I can't walk two blocks on this leg." He smiled "Besides, I think I remember the combination to the liquor cabinet. Go on, I'll be fine."

Dad got muley too. "I will keep an eye on him. Might join him. If you go up the dumbwaiter, you can come out the back and not draw anyone to the door."

"Dumbwaiter?" Militia asked.

I opened the door of it, noting it was more like an old style freight elevator or maybe something for moving coal loads. "Looks like it can handle both of us."

She nodded at my gun in Danny's hands. "Good thought. Close that door though or something may come sneaking in from behind you." She winked at Danny. "Wish us luck."

"Good luck." and lower "Be careful."

I looked toward Tony, a man I'd known all my life as Uncle Tony, and he rolled his eyes at me. He knew. But he also knew that he shouldn't know. Right. Deep thoughts for later.

We climbed in the dumbwaiter. Pulling the rope through the pulley system moved us up one foot for every four we pulled. It took a little while but it was quiet and we were able to get into the storage shed. The smashed window had plastic over it, but we could see outside that the light poles in the parking area were bent in three spots. A depression in the snow looked like a tire print.

"They engaged the cloaking systems. Have Velocity do a run by, but not stop."

An orange-red blur shot by and a few seconds later sniggering was heard from the parking area. Skidmark's voice came in full stage whisper, "Find me the motherfucking union guy. He is the lever to move that Mine bitch."

"Console, we have a problem. Skidmark knows that Danny Hebert is a way to control Mine." She looked at me and shook her head. "That has got to be a record for the shortest Ward identity loss."

"I didn't do anything!" I hissed back.

A vehicle door opening showed a rectangle of light floating in the middle of the parking lot. "Skid's! I got Armsmaster coming in on that hog of his, ten minutes, tops."

The sound of glass breaking, doors being forced here and there as the Merchants broke into the offices looking for Dad. My anger built. I pulled out the one Stringshot gun I had put together off the recipe I'd made. Forming it without the off the shelf parts it was blockier and a little uglier, but I didn't care about that. I was loading it, when Miss Militia held out her hands. I almost handed over the weapon, but she wanted the shells.

With a grin, she formed one of her own, smooth and pretty like my first one was. No, this was nicer and all gunmetal blue like all the issue PRT weapons were. "They started production already. Dragon did a limited run of them, but it's enough for my power to count. I can't make the ammo though."

I dropped twenty rounds for her and loaded my gun as well. "Can you plant one in the RV from here?"

She looked at me like I'd sworn at her.

"I mean on Squealer herself. So they can't drive off."

Her face unscrewed and she peeled back the plastic a little and settled down to get a good shot.

"Give me two smoke grenades and I will get close enough to drop them and then take out it's tires. Maybe an axle if I can reach it."

"Console, we are going to immobilize the vehicle and pop smoke." Militia spoke.

"Roger. Disengage right after and watch for Mush." Armsmaster answered, reluctantly.

"Never give an order you know will be disobeyed…" Militia said, "And Three, two, one, go!"

With a bang, the Stringshot in her hand barked and the rectangle of light dimmed.

The PA thumped and we heard Squealer, well squealing. Something about her 'baby', 'the controls' and various curse words.

Skidmark drowned her out for a moment. "Cunt sucking shit faced red white and blue beatch. I see you there you stain toothed ugly…" The Stringshot barked again and he was suddenly glued to the window from of the door he was leaning out. The microphone hung loosely.

I hit the door and took two steps out to the parking lot. Tossing smoke grenades left and right of me I waited a half second to see where the smoke wasn't going. Mr. Swipey in hand now, I took part of the front right wheel off right up to the axle. The whole vehicle leaned to the right front as it turned to put the flattened half to the ground. The front dropped six feet, the main part balanced on three wheels. I stepped to the back wheel, outside of the space where the RV-from-hell occupied. Another swipe took a chunk of the back wheel, as well as where it joined the axle. This time the wheel bent outward and dropped all the way down.

Stepping lively to get clear I saw that the whole vehicle might fall on its right side. A groaning noise showed why it didn't just roll over onto the loading area even as Miss Militia was running clear. The light pole held, but bent significantly as the vehicle bounced a few times and settled canted toward the ground.

Guns started shooting in all directions. Some on the ground from panicking Merchants. Some on the vehicle, firing randomly. Squealer might have gotten a hand free and onto the controls. But at the same time, each shot caused the stealth field to fail momentarily. The many shots essentially outlined the vehicle for me as I stepped up the tire to the back RV door and swung it open.

Bamph. Stringshot put a ganger onto the wall. Shack, Shack. Bamph. Shack, Shack. Bamph. I put two more toward the front of the RV. The chairs bent forward under the shot force, the strings swinging round them. The figure already mostly held was wrapped and pulled back into the seat fully. Not as good an effect on Skidmark, but it did a fair bit to disrupting his concentration on his power. The layers of blue energy faded and he was no longer free of the first set of strings and working on Squealers.

Looking at the console between them and the Tinker gear in it, I reached out with Mr. Swipey and removed a good section of the controls and some of the engine. Okay I was pissed.

"My Baby!" Wailed Squealer.

"If you don't want to be sectioned and or disappear yourself, you will tell me who told you the union guy is the key to controlling Mine."

"Shut your motherfucking mouth!", Skidmark started. I tapped the floor and chair beneath him, dropping him to the ground like a wet sack of potatoes. He _may_ have hit his head on something.

"Squealer. If you want your boyfriend back in one piece you can tell me this now. This is unwritten rules stuff. You don't get the BirdCage for that, you get disappeared and a Vegas funeral."

"It was Coil. Coil Coiiiil." she whined. "He said you were soft on the Union, trying to chum it up. He… He didn't say it was Fa-mi-ly." she was not a pretty woman crying. Okay so she didn't start our very pretty anyway. Meth had done her a disservice in so many ways.

Hmm. Meth was a poison. I palmed out one of my strongest available potions. "Drink this. It will clear your head and make you sleep it off. When you wake up, we can talk about rehab."

She sniffled. "Is it the Good Stuff?" she asked, hope rising.

"Oh, it's the BEST."

"Kay." She drank from the straw greedily.

Miss Militia was climbing up to get in. "The regulars are on the run. Mush took off when he saw the other two go down so quick. Skidmark is out cold, maybe concussed. And very tied up." She paused taking in my position and Squealer sucking the juice box.

"Did you do what I think you just did?" She started angrily.

Dragon's voice cut through the anger like a hot knife. "Mine obtained consent. Just barely legal, but she obtained it."

"For twenty four hours she can't use any form of drug successfully. Let her keep her stash on her and lock her in a standard cell. She WILL try to get high, and fail. She will still probably feel the withdrawal -psychological at least- but if she believes it is a permanent effect, it will be." My voice was cold, void of feeling. I felt like throwing up really.

"Squealer is going 'cold turkey'." Militia sounded just a little horrified.

"Remind me not to get on your bad side…" Dragon's voice sounded distant.

****Spawn 15

Lobster had to wait. There were after action forms and a debriefing that went over and over the things they thought could have gone 'better'. Such as us not getting involved and evacuating through the tunnels. Such as leaving Dad to wait until Armsmaster had arrived.

The Deputy Director did not seem very interested in results. He was worried about the PR. He did not want the first thing on Director Piggot's desk in the morning to be me 'acting out'. I reminded him that the direct Intel from Squealer was that Skidmark had been tipped off that Danny Hebert was the means to control Mine. And that as yet, only the PRT and my family had that information.

He responded with one more option, "Quinn Calle also has your identity."

"Seriously? You do realize that the laws of supply and demand go out the window if there is no more supply, right? And that he doesn't get paid for services if there is no one to render the services to."

Miss Militia nudged me. I was having none of that. "It's past midnight. I haven't slept for fourteen hours. I will write up a report and then I will find my way home if I have to walk there over the Bay."

I left the note from the lunchbox with Armsmaster directly. Miss Militia had seen it already, had argued to take it to the Director herself. My thought was that with the proof of a mole in action, there was a chance Armsmaster and Dragon could make real headway.

I got up and left. At that point I might have just mined the door out of my way if it hadn't opened.

Resnick was left with a bad taste in his mouth. That snot nosed, wet behind the ears teenager ...was right. With them in the system for mere days, there should be no way for that link to be made so clearly. His only realistic thought was that if someone had already been monitoring the Hebert family before she triggered. This suggested Hess or maybe that little bit of fluff Barnes.

And then there was the revelation that the Undersiders had been present in her first patrol before the debut. That tidbit had been glossed over because of Lung's portion of the event. There was a Thinker in that group.

Too many loose ends and they all were teenagers. If he had needed any more proof that he was in hell, there was Clockblocker's analysis of the 'game' that seemed to match up distressingly with Mine's powers -and what it could mean for the city if those 'creeper' things got loose.

"Dragon, you have something on this Minecraft game?"

"Nothing more specific than Clockblocker's report. I swear the boy wrote out a thesis worth of work, knowing him he probably will end up turning it in for his Parahuman Studies class. I did find a notation on the boards saying a Minecraft server has been in operation since -duh-duh-dah- the day of Taylor's trigger. You will never guess who set it up either." Dragon's image was inviting him to try.

"Oh no. You don't think…" he started.

"Oh yes, our young one-off Tinker has apparently turned his hand toward a game on demand server. The first game his hot new server was setup for was Minecraft. Uber did a lot of the work -all this is on their own website, so don't say I've been peeking. It also appears they've used the scanned in map of Brockton Bay as the default map."

"Is there a connection?" Armsmaster had his head down now.

Her image faded, to show a list of emails. "Remember the email campaign Taylor reported? How every email account she made got bombarded with hate mail and creepy list requests? She used just about every combination of her name as userid. Compare this to the initial list of players -now this I did sort of hack their server to get- see number four. 'The_Bert' "

Colin shook his head, confused.

"Take out the underline and add a period after the 'T'."

Oh. OH. ohmifuckinggod.

"Exactly." She paused. "Seven seconds and two clues. You sir are in need of another say four hours sleep? Problems? DO I MEAN FIVE."

Armsmaster leaned against the walls and engaged the null gravity field in his armor. It really was a power drain, but here in the lab with his own power broadcast available...it just made sense to relax. The lights dimmed, including his own blue line on the suit.

"Blue light inhibits REM."

Whatever. At least she hadn't started playing the heartbeat soundtra… doo-dooh doo-dooh…

They didn't fly me out, but the harbor police boat to the Boardwalk was a nice change. I went north a little ways and switched out armor suits to the darker one and beat feet for home.

Online, I got a good read on the Minecraft craze over on Aleph and admitted there were some striking similarities. But some things didn't jibe. My boots for one. Not unless mods were in play. I kind of wished my old email accounts hadn't been shut down at Winslow already. I tried to make a new one on PHO specifically and found that 'Mine' had already been locked down by that kind of moderator.

With a selfie on my phone camera from the mine garden showing Miss Militia in the background shooting off-camera -happily no spiders in the shot- I sent one off to Tin_Mother in hopes of being verified. 'Mine_T' huh, I supposed it would have to do.

Dad was fairly supportive of my upgrading him to some armor. I would just have to figure out how to make a cloth armor jacket and pants for him that would stop bullets and knives for the most part.

I did make him take a healing potion and keep it on him. For that purpose I made the vial thin and wide, trying for the look of a hip flask. It was silverish and seemed right when he took it and slid it into his jacket pocket.

Finally, drifting off to sleep.

Only to wake immediately to sunlight and the smell of burning bacon. Daaad.

Showering was interesting. After I was done, I plugged the tub for it to fill. When I tapped the water I got a brick of clean freshwater and was completely dried off. Hair and all. Manton thingey, like Panacea had gone on about. Protected from my own power. Of course, it chose to treat clothes as fair game … so I had a nude ray -er nude pickaxe?- at my disposal. Thoughts of the cute Butcher boy made my cheeks red, and summoned dad up the stairs to show me the burned bacon.

"It just didn't sizzle enough and I thought it wasn't cooked." He grimaced.

"That is because this bacon isn't eighty percent fat, dad." Men. Rolling my eyes. Looking out the front windows I saw News Vans. Lots of News Vans. Dad took his turn rolling his eyes.

"The story that Squealer and Skidmark got captured by heroes right over me -ahem- cowering in a storage closet with Tony has sort of caught on. Way Tony is telling it, he was the hero of the piece -spotting the gang members and the RV-from-hell." He smiled. "And the insurance adjuster says I can get a 2006 model to replace the old fiver."

"Dad, you know that you can afford a much better car once Mr. Calle sells a draught." I started.

He held a finger up to me. "Don't try to con a conman dear. The money from those means I can buy a car that is much better without looking much better. The insurance payout means no one will notice me getting a fresh beater. I just happen to know a guy." he switched to gangstereze voice. "The car we get will be an oh-six body but with a two-kay-ten engine and four-wheel drive. And you can armor plate it like the house -since I know I can't stop you anyway."

Hmm. Car. I forgot all about the front half of that car. And there it is in a dusty page about engines. Oh. Engines. Duh. I suppose I could cobble together a scooter or something for 'Taylor' to ride to Arcadia. Much better than blur-stepping the whole way.

Oh yeah, there is something I need to do. Calling Mr. Calle, I left a message explaining this was my 'new' phone. I was wondering, had my 'grant' money had come in about the new school.

While I was looking at the phone karma bumped me on the noggin. Lily, the Ward I'd met a day ago had decided to involve me -had gone out of her way- and Missy as well, to invite me to a Boardwalk crawl. For clothes. There was talk of going to Parian's. There are exclusive shops tucked into the Boardwalk. Parian had one of the most exclusive of all.

Dad walked over to the fridge and reached up top. He handed me a manilla envelope with a little heft to it. It was from Mr. Calle's office. Oops. There was a checkbook showing a deposit and balance. Suddenly I needed some water to clear my throat after almost inhaling bacon. There were three separate deposits for Eighty Thousand Dollars. And a small deduction of maybe four thousand. The line item said something about registration fees.

I handed dad the checkbook, then handed him the glass of water as he coughed to clear his throat. Fishing out the papers I saw that this was for 3 vials, with the 20% handling fee deducted. There were two other vials still available for sale. Ah, the longer page itemized the hourly fees for the time assisting at the PRT and a much more modest fee for research and legwork by his staff. I slipped that back into the envelope and noticed something stiff still in there. It was a pair of bank ATM cards, plain grey ones, with a magnetic stripe along the side and a small piece of tape on it with a neatly written five-digit pin code. Five digits?

"Dad? I think these go with the account. You might want to keep this one handy when you shop for your car." I pointed at the tape and numbers. "Looks like these have a five-digit pin."

"Well that is weird, but if all the others stop at four it would make it awful hard to guess."

I looked closer and found that if you held it to the light at the right angle, there was an eight hundred number on the card. Cool, I guess I knew who was buying lunch.

The phone rang and it was Mr. Calle's assistant, Nancy. "Miss Hebert? We received your call. Has your account information arrived?"

I cleared my throat. "Yeah, about that sorry, my Dad didn't give it to me until after I called."

"Ah, very good then. The paperwork for Arcadia has been expedited as well. Congratulations on passing your GED requirements, as well as earning college credit in English. The specifics will be in the packet waiting for you on Monday. Your cards are now ...active."

"Um, what bank is this money deposited? I don't want to have fees for using the wrong ATM."

She chuckled politely, "That won't be a problem. The institution involved is accepted anywhere banking takes place, and no special fees will incur. It is not really a single institution, but have no fear for your investments, all of our banking needs are met by BN. You will find your accounts can earn as much as 5% interest if you do not withdraw more than 50%, which is compounded monthly. You will receive your first statement at the end of March."

"Wow. Okay, would you let Mr. Calle know that I have four more vials available by Monday." I was warmed by the interest level going up quickly from her end.

"That is good news. If you would bring them to the offices at your first convenience, we will be able to process them right away. You are aware that Mr. Calle has noted that anytime there is less than three available that the prices doubles?"

More coughing on my end. "I will keep it in mind, thank you."

"Have a good day Miss Hebert." click.

The text had noted that we might have guests along from the new friends they had made. Dad dropped me off at the Boardwalk using the rental car the insurance company delivered at eleven. That was convenient as I thought I might have to go in costume and switch out. Too easy to 'out' myself there. I mean, this assumes that Skidmark had told no one else besides Squealer. As for this Coil person, the PRT think tank had suggested that their involvement was 'fishing' for a reaction since I'd been spotted in the area of the DWU and Danny Hebert had been noted going out to the Rig.

Their answer was part of why I needed to be seen out and about at the Boardwalk today. I'd loaned a set of armor pretty much like mine to Velocity. He was about my height and let's face it, I was not heavily endowed -not enough to show through my armor. So he would do a run-stop-run-stop-pose path down the Boardwalk and I would be visibly caught on camera behind him at the Ice Cream shop. The idea was to do a Superman on PHO, showing Clark and Supes at the same time. Dragon had assured us that she could arrange web cameras to show us both without issue from multiple accounts.

The rent a car was nicer than most any car we'd ever had. I hoped Dad would maybe find one closer to it than the true disguise he was thinking of. Stepping out to the curve I found myself squeeing internally on seeing Missy dressed in cute coverall shorts. She really sold the preteen thing, but hated dresses after being thrown into them at work for years now. Her hair was up, with a tennis visor shading her eyes.

Lily was showing that she worked out a bit. Athletic wear, torn jeans -the expensive-looking kind- and sandals. The sandals looked out of place at first, but then I noted they were Japanese style, although with rubber on the two slats across the main sandal.

They looked at me, the ever-present grey hoodie over a beige top, dark jeans of the big-box variety that fit me so loose I was lost in them. Dad had bought them for Christmas, and I'd rolled them up and was wearing a belt cinched tight.

Then I saw the blonde loitering with them turn away from Dean -yes Dean of the Wards- giving him that 'shove-off-boy-toy' push as she looked at me. Her mouth dropped open. "Oh my god." she stepped closer and walked around me critically. "You didn't tell me it was an emergency case! Leggy, even if she hides it well. Ditch the hood, let the hair down. Yellows, and browns. Touch of freckles, loving it."

It should have stung, but she wasn't tearing me down really, In her eyes, she was preparing for her first attempt at a puzzle game. On hard mode. Victoria Dallon was playing to me like she was Gordon Ramsey ready to work magic on some greasy spoon.

She stepped close and grabbed my hands. "Mani. Hair. Minimum of seven tops and five bottoms and you will be the darling of Arcadia. Hi, I'm Vicky."

I looked down at her and felt myself smiling back at her enthusiasm. "Taylor. Yeah, I get it. My Dad has been buying my clothes for the last two years. I hit a growth spurt and well, gawky giant hasn't been an easy look to pull off."

Lily grinned. "Is that what that look is? Seriously, let her point the way and just take notes on the recipe. The shopping fu is strong in this one." she thumbed at Missy. "See what she did to the small fry?"

Missy smiled and now I knew I was thrown to the wolves as a sacrifice while she made a break for it. Or not.

"Oh no! I found some really nice skirts you should try Missy. Not dresses, I know you have issues there. Something like a skort with pleats. And funky boots!" Vicky gave Missy the biggest baby blue look I'd seen all day.

Wow, someone pulled off puppy dog eyes on the mistress of big sad eyes herself. Damn.

First, she had me in a chic little place that did my hair, curls through my long hair made it wavy and gave it volume. Or maybe it was the products added. I got them to give me a list and bought several bottles -sent to my house directly. They did my nails at the same time, hot pink with sparkles. I would never be able to repeat that on my own…

We were dragged into shop after shop. Apparently Missy was first up while I was being cleaned up, but Vicky had a stack of clothes waiting for me to try on. I was really enjoying myself in a few minutes. She changed her mind to peach and browns, with a few minor stripes to accentuate things. I was introduced to the skinny jeans, and my look evolved from knuckle-dragging to upright stance right there. Add in a nice top and I was almost civilized looking.

Then she brought out a couple of sundresses. I hadn't worn things like this in years. This is how mom dressed me. A denim dress really caught my eye, but she pushed me further out of my comfort zone, and then backed down when I started stamping my foot at girly shoes. I wore sneakers. Or boots. I did find a very expensive looking set of moccasin boots that matched my cape form's boots in feel.

Vicky expected me to come out with a few bags so I did. What she didn't know was that I bought almost all of it, and had the rest sent to be delivered that evening.

"If that's all you got, we need to stop at least once more -after Ice Cream." She grinned.

"I'm in!" "Hell yes!" were other voices in answer, I was just enjoying the day, I'd switched to one of the tops she had me buy, a summery top with peach and white stripes. My hood had been down for quite a bit, now the whole hoodie was wrapped around my waist and tied there. My jeans still looked silly rolled up, but new black sneakers looked nice along with them.

It was crowded inside. We were heading outside with our cones and found a table out there. Remembering my need to be seen, I picked the chair by the sidewalk, a low brick wall behind me. When the crowd ooh'd and ahh'd we all stood up and looked. A silvery green blur came down the street, stopped and seemed to wave at the crowd. It was my armor, but well it looked weird to me. Missy elbowed me in the ribs so I leaned out and looked as 'Mine' shot down the wooden walk and turned the corner.

"Well, that sucked. I would totally have bought her a cone if she stopped by." Vicky pouted. Raising a hand to her brow dramatically, "I thought we had a 'moment' over coffee. Michon's best too!"

"Don't take it to heart there Vickster. She might have some tact about doing stuff like that in front of your boyfriend."

"But Dean isn't..." He put his hands over her eyes from behind. "Or is he behind me?" she giggled. "Who is that behind me? Can't be Taylor, she still has a cone to work on."

"All right, fun's fun." Dean glanced at me and then down the road. "First time I've seen Mine out in daylight. Thought she might .. be a .. Vampire!" he finished in Bela Lugosi's voice.

The day was turning out great, albeit a little voice was screaming at me that I had just spent twelve hundred on clothes -six times more than I'd spent in one setting, ever.

"Say, do you guys know where I can get a little scooter? Arcadia is further away than Winslow was, and the bus is like a fine wine. Small doses and only with the right meal."

Missy waved at me. Clearing her throat of Ice Cream she did a Guido voice. "I know a guy!" she snickered and we echoed it. "But seriously, there's an outlet by the Marina downtown that is selling these electric runabouts -like a Vespa done electric with a gyroscope built-in."

It was a day. A real Saturday. The relaxing part was only slightly offset by the part of me watching for the other shoe to drop.

A/N Changed the location to fit the next installment where I mentioned the place like five times already. Am lazy. Deal. ;)

****Spawn 16

Sunday was a special day. I'd talked to Missy about her friend in the scooter/cycle/watercraft business down by the Marina. She said he did a lot of business on the weekends, and would be open today.

Taking a bus downtown and then transferring to the southern leg was a little unusual. I wore some old clothes still out of habit, but did have a new top under the hoodie. This got me a few jibes from skinhead wannabes.

"Lookit the Docks brat coming downtown to panhandle." One crowed at me from three rows up. I looked up and missed my old glasses so bad just then. They were never sure you pushed your lenses up with the middle finger at them or if it was just how you did it. "So, little race traitor, you come down to take work from honest folk?"

"Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" I answered.

A different skinny -for these were not your built up skinheads, but the thinner straggly ones that have not yet earned the right to tattoos- sat down next to me. He made to put an arm around me but then saw I'd palmed a knife into my hand, opened up and had it resting on his thigh. Come on, a girl can't go to Winslow for almost two years without knowing a thing or two. In my right hand I had pepper spray.

"You have bad breath. Unless you want some of my breath freshener here, you boys should go find someone more your speed."

He eased out of the seat, wary, and they left the bus fast. I hadn't seen any of the mostly Hispanic ladies going to work shift moving, but they were quietly putting away an impressive amount of weaponry, one or two phones as well. I got a nod from one older looking wage earner that made me feel better. I nodded back.

At the marina stop, I got out and checked for tails. After those bozos, it was possible. Nothing. There was a little fog closer to the water that hadn't burned off yet, but nothing big. The address brought me to a mostly watercraft dealership, but there at the side was a group of ten scooters and two dirt bikes. Walking in, I meandered over to them and waited for a salesman to appear. After a few minutes of no one coming to me I headed to the office.

"Was not sure you were serious there youngun. You don't dress like a fifteen hundred dollar scooter gal."

"That isn't the price Missy quoted me." I said handing over a business card with Missy's signature on the back.

"Oh there she goes again, giving away the family discount. Don't hardly make nothing on those at fifteen as it is." he groaned, some of the New Englander accent slipping.

"I'm not here to stiff you. But is that" Look at the card, "enough to get me a test drive?"

"In this fog?" he seemed surprised but interested in making a sale. He grabbed a small key ring and walked with me outside. "S'pose it has burned off a mite." Accent heavy again.

I rolled my eyes and he blushed, grey beard and all.

"That obvious?" he shrugged. "The tourists all expect fisherman captain retired. I worked out west fifteen years before I met Annie. She drug me back to the Bay with her and here I am." He pointed at the first two. "These here are all electric, powered by charge in six hours. The two bigger ones have a gasoline motor as well that can be used to charge em quicker -or ride on the charge as it makes it. They bring the price up some. That one is used, hybrid like those two. Pizza shop special. It's a bit beat up but the workings are just as good as the other two. It has a nice luggage compartment on the back as well."

Bait and switch at its best. If he could ditch the used one, a tourist wouldn't balk at the other one's price. I smiled and commenced to haggling.

"So a jacket, helmet, a road express card for one year and the hybrid for fourteen fifty?" I started.

"Not the leathers." was all he could say at first. He seemed surprised I knew what I wanted.

"Okay, show me how to start it and give me a little rundown on working it please."

"You've never ridden a scooter right?" he seemed to deflate. "And no learner's permit yet, I am guessing."

"That's never stopped me before. Relax, I can get a learner's permit online these days. Just add fifty in for delivery…"

That straightened him out of the defeated look. "Okay, see this flat spot, this is where the gyro is. It makes it easier to ride but can make it harder to turn. The only fancy stuff you need to know is that you can put your foot on this and cut it for a little bit to turn at speed. Honestly if you have to use the cut-out you are probably going too fast anyway. Key here, gas start here…"

In maybe fifteen he had me doing little loops of the yard's parking area. I had to figure out how to adjust the mirror a little, but the rest was like riding a big bulky bicycle. It did look like a Vespa, if it was stretched out a might. There was room for a second person behind me and a cushion in front of the attached storage compartment. The whole compartment could be slid forward for me to use as a rest or backward to expose the second seat. It was banana yellow and had a little orange lightning bolt inside a blue circle. It had been the symbol for 'Speedy Pizza' -but the only thing speedy about them was how fast they went under as a business as their riders got mugged. He apologetically showed me the half helmet, also with the logo and attached leather piece that looked like an old aviator hat with goggle built in. I loved it.

Inside, he showed me the jackets they had. The leather ones were really nice, but I found one that was more like a trench coat with the tails of the coat split to fit over the bike. He pointed out that there were magnets in the edges that would hold to the scooter or to each other to keep the tails together. It wasn't real leather, and had an orange tint to it, but it fit nicely and he was okay with putting it into the deal.

He almost balked when he saw the BN card. "I don't see these much. They, ahem, usually go with big spenders."

I sighed. "My dad just came into some money." It wasn't a lie! "We aren't used to living above the line as it were. I plan to spend slowly and change my habits a little at a time. Going nuts is just ...nuts."

"I wish I could record that and play it back to my grandkids..." He signed the receipt and noted the address and delivery date. With registration it did top out to over two thousand. I took a picture of it and walked out with a smile on my face.

Taking the bus one stop over I walked into the side entrance of the building next to the downtown PRT. It was a gym and wholly owned and operated by the PRT, but open to the public. I waved my id at a card reader and headed to the change rooms, went into a stall and waited a moment for the all clear to sound on my phone. This meant there was no one else in the room, so I could switch to my costumed identity there and use the special door in the back of the changing area.

This was a heavily guarded building, and even my armor and Wards ID was not enough. The guards however allowed that producing some carrot sticks might help. Feed them once, feed them forever.

I picked up an escort since I was not familiar with this building. The area I was heading to was more medical, the finest facilities outside of Brockton Bay General, but with heavier doors and bars in some places. I was here to see how Squealer was getting along.

What I was not expecting to see was a twenty two year old woman with good teeth, smooth skin and golden hair down to her hips. She was sitting up and talking to a psychologist, one of Dr. Yamada's peers I think.

She was calm, but clearly had some issues with manners still. She didn't look incredibly happy to see me at first, but the psychologist held up a mirror to her again and that seemed to knock the wind right out of her anger.

"I can't say I liked getting clean like that. They've showed me the pictures of how I was when I came in. The tracks, the scars. I looked like a forty year old. My lungs were shot, my teeth half rotted out. They said I had a chemical abortion somewhere along the line and couldn't have kids. I can feel the damage to my joints still clearing up." Her face was part wonder and part disgust.

"I'm sorry I had to trick you into agreeing to it, but not sorry for the results." I glanced at the Doctor who made themselves scarce.

"How can I be sure I can stay this way, stay clean I mean. The cravings keep coming…" She shivered.

"Here's the thing. My healing does things to a body. Perfects it in ways that are still being figured out. The way I see it, it may make your body more resistant to the poisons that were in it -to the point you just can't get any high at all."

"Holy shit on a shingle.", she was pale. "No drugs at all?"

"None you had in your system, or the remains in your system. So to put it this way, what haven't you taken in the last 2 years?"

She was visibly going over lists in her head. Giving up after a few moments of thought. "Well, I got no stuff to check on that and they say they are holding me for observation for a while. Then I get shipped to Alaska to the 'Hamster Wheel'."

"The whut?"

She smiled. "It's the 'next stop is the Bird-Cage' place out in Juno. Got a nice shop if you stay polite I hear. They might let me make a snowplow or two, or put better engines in cruisers. That sort of thing. Lucky me, it was Skidmark that got all the real heat. I just got a list of Accessory charges longer than my arm, aiding and abetting. Be out before I look like my old self anyway."

"Even if Skids broke me out, it wouldn't be the same. You done killed the monkey."

I left, feeling out of sorts. It was hard to match that face, speech pattern with Squealer. My face must have said it after all as the psych met me on my way out.

"Gives you the willies doesn't it? She's got dissociative disorder stemming from her trigger and years of abuse before it. What your vial did sort of peeled things back. It dulled the extra nerve paths which reinforce the irrational behaviors. Or maybe made the old patterns just a strong."

Doctor Jones was one of those corn fed Midwestern types. She liked to quip about how her daddy was proud, even if she wasn't a farmer: Outstanding in her fields.

"So she has two settings and it flipped the switch."

"That is a very simplistic way of saying things." She began.

"I tend to be very simplistic in my views." I deadpanned.

She shook her head. "No, I mean I like it. Very concise. You know I had to wonder how one of your vials would handle an extreme case. A case 53 to be exact."

I glanced her way. "Well you can try a requisition or wait for me to fight off a zombie army. These things are not as easy to come by as all that," I tried to make it sound hard. As her face fell, I relented. "Just kidding. Although the going price outside of the requisition is around a hundred thousand now."

She whistled appreciatively. "Right."

"Have you got someone in mind?" My eyebrows rose as she brought up a picture on her phone. It was hard to see clearly as it was taken through glass, but the image showed a face surrounded by tentacles, and a drooping mass of organs. Woah.

"Sveta is one of our more difficult cases. Nice enough personality but her body control issues are a serious problem. Too strong for her own good and the limbs react to stimuli by trying to strangle."

"Well it's a good thing I wouldn't have to go in then!"

"Oh pffft! I visit her every other week, and the safety suit is no worse than power armor, I hear." She nods as we reach the boundaries of the medical wing. "If she is willing to go for it, I will work on getting her permission. And I will try the requisition route too, there may be other case 53's on payroll who would like a chance to change for the better."

Moving upstairs I approached the dreaded halls of HR. It wasn't my experience that made me dread it, it was Dad's stories and the feeling it was like the Principal's office -for adults.

A cheerful blonde got up as I entered the office. "Oh hello, Mine isn't it?"

"Yes. Um I'm not sure if this is the right office for it, but I wanted to get a learner's permit and the online site requires an affidavit showing a job requiring transportation, a vision test on file and proof of insurance. I was hoping you might help with two of those."

She nodded along as I spoke. "Yes, we can get the vision test out of your medical files from testing." She brought up my file and hummed to herself a minute. It wasn't a big one but I could tell when she got to the part about the attack and apparent death. "Well, there is a note here about a hospital stay in your cover story, I think we can provide a backstory that includes the eye exam as part of the file. We can simply say you saw Panacea and that your vision is 20/20 now."

I nodded having already told that half truth myself. "And the job?"

She looked me up and down, armor and all. "That depends largely on what you will be driving. A car would require paperwork and waivers…"

I held up my phone, showing the picture. "It's a scooter."

She wrinkled her nose. "Is it more than five brake horsepower?"

"Um, maybe?" I brought the paperwork out of inventory and slid the pamphlet on the make and model out.

"Well, if it sounds like a duck … Motorcycle then. You realize you are going to have to complete driver's ed or take a private course for this?"

"Okay. But how do I arrange classes around school and all this?" my arm gestures across my armor.

"Well, it just so happens that there are a few Protectorate employees who have taken the required training to train others…"

"You're going to set Armsmaster on me, aren't you..?" I hung my head slightly.

"If it's any consolation, I hear it is a short course -very efficient." She winced at my reaction.

As I walked into the house -dressed as Taylor again- calling out "I'm home!" Dad stepped out of the kitchen, coffee in hand.

"My Dad senses are tingling honey. Is there something you want to talk about?"

"Um, whut?" And then he held out a hand and dangled keys in front of me,

"I had them bring it around back and parked it in the shed. Nice choice, but didn't you miss out on the part where you need parental permission to drive?"

"I was coming to talk to you about it. Really" Had to add that as he perked an eyebrow,

"First, drama, then powers and now -heaven forfend- driving. What new parental horror do you have saved up for next week?" He took a sip of coffee.

I couldn't help myself. I turned sideways and sketched a roundness to my belly. His spit take was worth cleaning up coffee everywhere.

WORTH IT.

Dad and I surveyed the scooter.

"We really need to get the insurance up to speed. Congratulations honey. Are you going to keep it here?"

"Heck no. That's what inventory is for."

He looked at me. "Have you thought about what might happen to it in there? Not all your stuff comes out exactly like it went in."

"Evil thought Dad."

My PRT phone rang. I glared up at him and checked the caller id. BBPD? Really?

"Hello, this is Mine."

"Yes, um. This is Officer Milenky down at the impound yard. I have a Mr. Prescot here who was to recover his stolen vehicle. It was involved in a chase, damaged at the scene. His insurance won't cover the damage until he produces the rest of the car."

I had a sinking feeling. "And he wants the front half of his Volvo back?" I cringed.

"Er yes. It was kind of a longshot, but he saw your debut and that storage trick of yours and he is talking about bringing in lawyers now…"

"Give me the address of the impound yard, Officer and I will come down in say twenty minutes?"

He did so, it was the western side of downtown, almost a straight shot west of the DWU, the other side of the Trainyard. It was Sunday, but the impound yard had weird hours anyway. I switched to a jogging outfit and sneakers and jogged for a couple blocks. Once I cleared the residential zone and got closer to the Trainyard itself, I turned into a storage unit maze and found a quiet spot to switch to my armor. Superman had it so easy in those old comics. No worries about CCTV or traffic cams there. Probably why they went out of favor in the eighties. That or he didn't compare to Scion favorably.

In my boots, I made short work of the trip. Officer Milenky and Mr. Prescot were in the office. I came in and saw that the latter was on his phone.

"Officer." I nodded.

"Mine, good. Let me show you the back half."

What he didn't say was that he wanted away from the loud accountant who was more mad at the police than the criminal who actually stole his car.

I saw the back half and it matched up to what I had in inventory.

"You mind if I try to fix it?"

"Can't break it any worse than this, eh?"

At this point Prescot, who had finished his call, stepped out and interjected. "Wait, what? You can fix the damage too?"

I waved my hands a little. "Maybe. If I have both halves in my inventory I should be able to fit them together and then take the whole out again. You okay with that?"

"It's no worse than the blasted insurance company trying to weasel out of fixing it because I don't have the whole thing. If it was just gone, it would be a PRT thing to replace it."

"Let's try not to go that route, kay? Now some quiet please."

I got to the same position that I'd hit the car to pull it in before. Then I took out Mr. Swipey. Both men gasped a little and stepped back. Hitting the back half of the car it took up space in inventory. Not as raw material, but half of a recipe. 'Car'. Well that was nice, I could whip up a car with enough raw materials to do so.

I brought both halves to my workspace and sort of let them come together. They wanted to match up and become a single item. I looked over the result. The front half had a better paint job by far, tires were brand new looking. The back half still had dings and scratches -which were evening out as I watched.

"Would you rather have it quick or brand new looking?"

He worked his jaw a little. "Um, New, Please?"

I let the dings work themselves out. There was sort of a MRI scan slice look that let me see the engine deposits were all cleaned up, transmission bearings were good as new. It even fixed the tail light. The front end was not crumpled at all from the initial accidents. The windshield was already perfected. About four years of rusting reversed.

As I brought it out of inventory, both men gaped.

"Is? Is that my car?" He pressed his keyfob and it beeped happily as it unlocked.

The keyfob itself was worn, chipped from long use. "Let me see that."

He handed it over. Into inventory and out in a few seconds. It looked brand new as well as I handed back. He blinked.

I looked at the tag on the door frame, unscratched by wear. "Congratulations, you are the proud owner of a brand new 2008 Volvo."

"But what do I tell my insurance?"

"If I was you, I'd tell them you are changing companies after the runaround. The new company won't care." Officer Milenky said and winked at me.

"Um Mine? Does that trick work on coffee makers?"

It did.

Monday dawned bright and early. Well extra early for me, as I was farming the rooms by the DWU end lair for more zombies. I'd already harvested the crops as it were, and had added another grow area by the DWU end, this one a little deeper and taller -with hardened rock walls since it went right to bedrock. I'd planted apples, peaches and bananas here. Mostly to see what would happen given the growth rate. And it let me check to see if inventory space was a function of land tilled.

There was a little surprise as one of the natural cave systems had lava down there. It must be something to do with my power since the area was not active that way, nor was I down far enough for it, but eh? My power is bullshit. I built fence to keep the zombies from getting in among the plants.

Two vials later and I checked the time. Dad would be up soon. I'd been able to take delivery of my clothes while he was out getting milk and eggs. Most of it was hung up on racks here in the hideout, I certainly didn't need a coat room that big for other reasons. The really nice find was that clothes put into inventory came out cleaned and pressed, repaired if they needed it. I just had to time it so that they didn't go further into 'looks like brand new' territory. That might get Dad a few looks.

Once I told Dad that I could repair cars, he had 'settled' on a 2006 online, having it delivered to his friend's shop. They would swap out the engine only for a newer one. We could then 'fix' it and just ding it in a few new places as needed. I was getting to where I would miss the rental by the time he dropped me off at Arcadia.

Walking up the steps I noticed a few of the Wards arriving by 'taxi' van. Other students mixed in, some giving my new clothes appraising looks. Once I reached the office, and thank god for coming to check the place out last week, I was able to get my ID in order and found I had a place in the driver's ed class.

"We have students drop the class as soon as they hit sixteen and can take the test. I see you want the motorcycle option, do you have one available that can be used for fine points in the third week? Yes, good. Mr. Sawyer will ask you to have it dropped off for inspection. These forms go with the class. AP English looks to be your only nail biter here, Jane Dawson teaches it. DON'T call her Mrs. to her face."

I got to class a little early, starting out with English for the day. I introduced myself as Taylor Hebert.

"Taylor, you have joined this class well into the semester. I can give you a couple weeks to catch up, but your reading needs to be completed to stay with the class. I want you to peruse this list and mark those that you have not read."

I looked down the page. Thanking my mom's literary demon side I checked and double checked. Passing it back with only one item checked. "Nietzche, Beyond Good and Evil."

She looked at me again, assessing my age. "Are you related to Anne Rose Hebert?"

"She was my mother."

"Was? Oh I am sorry, I lost track of my professors when I went abroad for four years. I only returned to the Bay this last year. I can well understand your reading choices then, she positively detested Nietzsche. Here is the list of assignments. They are due by the end of the semester but if you turn them in early, I will grade them and let you substitute another later if it brings up your grade."

She sized me up again. "We call each other by our first names in this class, teacher included.

Jane motioned for one of the seniors. "Alice can you bring Taylor up to date on the current assignments for the week?" And I was sent to sit with another girl.

Alice got down to brass tacks. "Okay, don't expect any coddling from Jane or me either. This is the assignment notebook for the week. Copy it down quickly. Wait, where is your backpack?"

I had goofed. My pack was in my inventory where I'd been keeping everything so far. "OMG you didn't bring anything?"

"Just a sec." I said, walking back up to Jane. "Sorry I hung my bag on the chair and forgot it." Bringing the pack out of inventory from behind her. It was a cute little thing, more of a day bag with three single subject notebooks and a few pens and pencils within.

Returning I took out a notebook and copied the assignments for the week in neat script. Then I turned it back and copied down the week before and so on.

"What are you doing?" Alice said.

"Copying out the class assignments for the last month. Jane is giving me some time to catch up, but these will let me know what kinds of things to expect." I opined.

"Well don't expect me to carry you, that's all." She pursed her lips. "What books do you need to borrow?"

I looked at her blankly. "Why would I borrow your books? I have everything on the list at the house -well except that Nietzche stuff, but I won't need that."

"We'll see."

Fine, so Alice is the class Alpha. And I just got her riled at me the first day I joined the class. Wee! High School deluxe.

'What is your next class?" she asked.

A glance at my schedule, "Parahuman studies."

She reassessed me. "How did you manage to not only skip the freshmen classes, but get in on electives and college prep?"

"Magic and three little letters." she was waiting. "GED."

"But that just makes no sense." She was getting loud enough our neighbors were turning our way.

"Of course it does. Once you have a High School equivalency degree, everything they teach in High School is an elective."

She noticed I had a clean notebook out and was writing in it. "So what's that?

"The assignment on the Iliad. I can rough this one out from memory. My mom used to tell me bits of it to put me to sleep at night."

In Parahuman studies I got to listen to Dennis give a summary of his paper on Minecraft the game vs Mine the hero. I held my head down listening as Mr. Fielding watched his timer and stopped Dennis as he was explaining farming. My eyes came up at the end and the teacher zeroed in on questions.

Then he pointed at me. "Taylor, you seemed to disagree with the assessment? Can you give us a few sentences why? Please stand..."

Fine. "The comparison starts okay but the underlying principles fail to match up. In the game, there is no set goal to achieve, only milestones that unlock more power. The hero Mine has shown a goal, to protect the Bay, in some cases from itself. While I don't exactly like the idea of selling 'healing' vials, it doesn't put doctors out of work or hurt Panacea's ability to take time off. The game has other players with the same tools vying for resources. So far, Mine has produced one thing _from_ another, a net zero gain or drain on resources."

He seemed impressed. "So you think it is coincidence?"

"No, but I think to base all dealings with her on assumption of a relationship between her and the Game would skew the outlook. Not for the better. If there had been no SImurgh, would Canary be on track for the Birdcage? Is feathers and Master powers really enough to assume they're the same?"

Hands went up at that. The class burned the last of its time discussing the basis of the trial shaping up.

Other classes, other greetings. Some happy for fresh meat, others confused by my age. The business systems class turned into something more like a typing class. Testing out to sixty words a minute got me sent off to the library.

Lunch was interesting, though I brought a salad instead of eating the prepared offerings. I saw Amy and Vicky both. Victoria had surrounded herself with a group of chattering nonsense, boy and girl alike. In the midst of it, Amy sat like a statue, only reading and occasionally reaching for a carrot stick. Carrot? Oh you poor dear, those look awful!

I got up and made my way over their side.

"Oh hey Taylor. Nice combination there. Weird, I could have sworn that top wasn't one of the ones you were going to buy." Vicky knew her clothes, dammit.

"I didn't carry out everything I bought. Some I had sent to my house directly."

"Clever."

There was money changing hands. I raised an eyebrow. "Oh don't mind them, they noticed you were watching us and put down bets on who you'd come talk to."

'Oh? Then they shouldn't be calling the bet just yet. Thanks for the clothes suggestions and all, even if you did drag me around like a life sized Barbie, but I came over to rescue someone from a fate worse than death." I turned my focus to Amy, "Hi, Amy right? I don't mean to pry but those are some really _sad_ looking carrot sticks."

Amy came to herself with a start. Brown curls jerked as she looked up, a malnourished shriveled pathetic grocery store carrot halfway to her mouth.

"No no no. That will not do. Try some of these." I had the bag open and plopped it in front her on the table, side by side with her own. Mine were bright orange, moist and crisp. She reached in and her eyes popped open as she touched them. Oh yeah, Panacea. Welp, cover gone there too. You'd think I would manage to hold back there for at least a day…

She took one and bit it, pleasure spreading as she chewed.

"That is without the dip." I slid a container of dressing next to it. She took another stick in hand and dipped it. Her book forgotten, she closed her eyes in appreciation. I saw the money in the hands all being gathered up and passed down to … Lily. Lily?

I turned to her. "Hey Lily, didn't you say you were out of High School?"

She sniggered, pocketing the cash in the back pocket of her jeans. "Getting some college credit in education here, acting as a teacher's aide." She arched an eyebrow. "The way I hear it, you are out of High School as well, Miss GED."

Vicky, in the middle of filching a carrot from my bag paused. "She what?"

"Yeah, I tested out of High School and now I'm doing college level classes." I blushed a little as I said this, watching Amy slap away Vicky's hand going in for a second theft. There was some good natured pushing and shoving. I say good natured because I have it on authority that Glory Girl can shove a bus down the street. I reached in my backpack and pulled another bag out of inventory. Taking my hand out I passed that to Amy directly, who actually growled a little. The other bag was passed around by the rest of the girls.

"Where did you get these?", another girl asked.

"At the DWU. My Dad works there and he has an 'in' with the new hero, Mine." I spun my yarn, knowing at least three people at the table could call bull on me at any point. "He gets them fresh, she gets to use some of the abandoned warehouses for greenhouses. Sort of. The way I hear it, she grows them without sunlight."

"Oy! I heard about a fight up that way. Was he the guy the Merchants were gunning for?", Vicky does the talking in this group it seems. Well Amy was busy with carrots it seemed.

"Yeah. Squealer shot up my Dad's car with a freaking missile rack. You should have seen it! My Dad, rigged the car to drive off, and he and the security guard Tony hid in the offices." I made a hand sized car move across the table and then boom! spread it out.

Amy finally found her voice. "These are good." She blushed. "Sorry if I took all of yours."

"No worries. I dunno if I can wrangle it everyday, but if I have some I don't mind sharing." I smiled. So buying my way into the 'in' crowd with Veggies. Oh darn.

Then I heard Alice from behind me. "Where did you hide that, Taylor?" she pointed at my pack as I turned. "In first period, you barely had a couple notebooks. Now you seem to have an endless supply of veggies." She put her elbow on her other arm and laid a hand along her chin.

"Wow, Alice, you got a little something on your chin there. Oh I see, the Bitchiness is leaking." Amy, yes Amy to the rescue.

There was polite clapping at a fully rendered 'serve' moment.

"The question still stands." she sneered.

"Have you been following me all day? Stalker much." I grinned and held up my pack. "There are these convenient things, called lockers and such." Oh now I see, I walked right into that didn't I.

"A locker you say. I seem to remember a news story about a girl at Winslow who got locked in a locker all night. They story was they took her out in a body bag." Alice crooned.

"Oh my. Alice you are so much more than I took you for. You can do research! And read!" I clapped and smiled, praising her like a puppy. Since I had never really sat down, just put a knee on the bench, I was able to pivot to a standing pose. Alice, flanked by a couple of other girls found herself almost nose to nose with me and I wasn't backing off.

My height gave me an advantage here. Alice was older, but she was one of those top heavy blonde variety, giving me a moment to wonder if the extra blood supply used to manage those things was taking away from the brain. She looked up at me and had the grace to back off a step or two.

"Resorting to violence so soon?" She was taunting now. "That is the sign of a weak mind."

A few others had stood up, Amy and Lily both. Victoria was still sitting, lounging really.

"Maxim 6: If violence wasn't your last resort, you failed to resort to enough of it." I smiled as Amy brought out the appropriate quote.

"Trying to bully someone who came from Winslow? Wow, just wow. If you weren't trying so hard not to shake, I'd say you were cute. As a button."

I suppose it was the final note on the difference I felt: Not scared. Not apprehensive. She was no Sophia and the crowd of onlookers were not egging her on to try harder. Then a tall blonde boy stepped in, wearing a football jacket.

"Ladies. Is there a problem here?" It took me a second to parse the accent, just a hint of German, or maybe something else Eastern Europe.

He was almost the perfect gentleman, and then he put his arm around Alice and it clicked. He was the boyfriend.

"You really did stack the deck, didn't you? Let me guess… She's pushed on Victoria before to try to get her suspended." Victoria raised a coke and winked. "And now here I am poor little waif from the ugly northern wasteland of the Docks. And I don't bow and scrape to her majesty so she tries to start a confrontation, backed not only by two girls but her boyfriend the jock."

I folded down to sit not on the bench, but on the concrete table surface itself. Doing the pouty face I looked at Jock boy. "She looks so tired, maybe you should take her back to her corner now and feed her a treat."

He held a fist up. "If you weren't a girl I would…"

A new voice intruded. "You would what Mr. Andrews?" the crew cut figure with shoulders like a linebacker stepped up and laid a hand on the jocks shoulder.

"Coach?" He squeaked.

"Why don't you and Miss Waters here report to the Principal's office where we can discuss the terms of your suspension?" When they didn't trot off quickly enough, "Move it!"

He gave me the gimlet eye. "Miss Hebert... I know your father. Did work in the union before the bottom dropped out. I like the restraint, but you should try to curb that 'last word' thing. You know, before it becomes your 'last word' in truth.."

He turned to Amy and shook his head. I mean what was she going to do, heal them to death? "Victoria. Glad to see our little talk last year is still holding."

"Coach, your talk was just the cherry on top of the one my Mom and Dad gave me." Vicky shivered.

"Glad to hear you listened to them anyway." He harrumphed. The crowd parted, except for a few that made their way past, smiling at us. Lunch was over, bigtime.

The rest of the day alternated between 'Locker girl' whispers and thumbs up. I did in fact visit my locker and made sure I was seen putting stuff in and taking more stuff out -although it was out of my inventory mostly. Old habits die hard. I had three similar backpacks with notebooks in them. I also had the freezer bag, one of those foldable cooler things with several baggies of veggies in it. I visibly grabbed a Ziploc of cherry tomatoes out and passed them to Amy who had walked with me.

We didn't have class together, she had study hall and I had PE.

She decided to do her studying in the bleachers today.

Dressing out was never so easy. I simply swiped to my other clothes in the stall, and waited a little bit. As the others started getting involved in their changes of clothing, I walked out and started stretching. These stretches were something Miss Militia insisted on before we went 'farming' lately, and they help. I had a lot of stamina after all. My sword isn't weightless, it just came with the strength to wield it. Mr. Swipey is almost weightless, but it has a lot of inertia to overcome when I stop the swing. That means I was developing upper body strength.

But my legs were not getting the same workout the same way, Well, they were in a way, The energy to blur step came from somewhere. It wasn't sustained effort like running was. The PE class was just gym time, so it was nice to be able to keep up mostly with girls around my age. When the woman coach, Davis? She changed us to the obstacle course -running through the tires, then swinging across a foam mattress on a rope, there was even a wall climb after putting on a harness. Oh yeah. It was a blast.

Unlike some of the others, I managed to get through it all once. When they failed, they dropped out to jog.

"Hebert!", Coach called me over. Her brown hair in a ponytail, her jogging pants and t-shirt showed muscular arms. "You ever watch Ninja Warrior?"

Um what? I looked at the row of bars. Monkey bars, but these had metal knobs welded into place on them like a zigzag pattern. "No..."

"No worries. You use the knobs to swing across. If you can't do knobs, you do bars twice. If you can't do that you jog around the gym with the others." She eyeballed me up and down. "Keep your knees bent, no dragging your feet."

Right. There was a pouch of chalk so I took some. To say I fell halfway was nothing big. I just went back and tried the knobs again. This time I got through. I went back to the obstacle course, but the next time I went through she waved me to the knobs instead of the tires. Okay so this could be fun.

My last class was work study. I skipped the showers and signed out for the day. Hopping the ride to the soup kitchen warehouse, I unloaded bags of dog food and rice that were half as big as me. Then boxes and boxes of dried food. It was interesting that so much of the food unloaded was in plastic sealed bags, even in boxes. It kind of made me worried a little.

This was the kind of thing the work study program was known for. Work. Dirty, sweaty, not for 'leetle girls' work. And that's why the PRT used it for the cover for Wards like me to take time off as needed, since the various spots around the city that asked for the labor were unlikely to compare notes on one skinny girl being at one of them regularly.

I hopped a ride to the Rig afterwards. The boys shifted as far away as they could, but Missy laughed and bumped my elbow. I switched to my armor in one swipe, my hair now clean and up up so it fits under the helmet -or really out the back in the ponytail hole. I could see Dennis mouthing 'Bullshit' at Chris.

Chris snickered but held out a little device like a pack of cigarettes. He flicked a switch on his belt and a clear bubble wrapped his fist. He tapped the ceiling of the van and it wouldn't let his hand get close. I felt it. Nearly frictionless.

"Put it on your feet. Like ice skates." Missy called out.

"We are getting close to the jetty guys, you need to be in civvies when we drop you." The driver looked apologetic. Chris deactivated his bubble thoughtfully.

"No worries." I switched back to my work jeans and t-shirt, now fresh and clean. My hair was done nicely and there was a distinct absence of BO.

"No I got to say it now." Dennis started.

Missy put a hand over his mouth. "My turn. ."

I decided to mess with Chris a little. "Remember all that seawater I mined?" I held out a couple dollops of gold to him. Nuggets really. "Seems my power decided to separate out the metals it found."

It was molecularly pure gold. You just didn't see that outside of laboratories. He stumbled as he stepped out of the van. "Oh man, you couldn't have waited until we got on the boat at least. He will be useless for an hour or more!", Dennis pushed his friend along to the changing rooms in the Ferry. Dennis glanced at Missy and unfolded a thin opaque cloth and flipped it up in a practiced move -then froze it for privacy.

I changed on a swipe. Missy was practiced in her donning of the dress over her leotard she wore under her regular clothes. Chris and Dennis reported they were done, but we couldn't leave until the sheet unfroze.

"Do you mind if I try something?"

Groans. "Go ahead." I heard the cringe in their voices. I mined the sheet out and felt a strange new brick form in my inventory. It was tiny, but my attention to it showed a name 'Chronaton'.

I looked at him and shook my head. "Want to bet we get called in for several hours of testing today by Armsmaster?"

"Oh you wouldn't… would you?" Dennis whined.

"Dragon, it appears I can mine one of Clockblocker's frozen items. It gave me a block of 'Chronaton'."

"Oh really?", her voice was interested. There was a pause. "Have you heard of one of the early Slaughterhouse Nine members called Gray boy?"

****Spawn 17

To say I had some homework to do would be understating things. The way I saw it, I needed to do two assignments in English right off, and start on the remaining reading log entries -I'd done a few during math as I completed the in class worksheet faster than the sub expected. That would bring me back into just being behind.

Finishing that with the distraction of having Armsmaster set up a camera system to watch me 'unfreeze' things Dennis froze. It seemed Dennis did get tired and there was an effect on his duration. One little jibe about his fading reserves -okay, someone may have mentioned Viagra and RedBull- and he got mad. He froze the whole table, my books and all.

Tapping my books, there was a feeling of resistance. Like he was somehow still pushing the freeze into the connection with his hand. "Dennis. Are you still freezing it?"

"Yeah… Wait, how can you tell that?"

"I am watching the blocks fill up in inventory. Now they are counting up until a stack is reached." Doot! A little xp ball dropped. Wait, it was two. One by him and another by me.

"My power thinks we did something there." I noted.

"What am I supposed to do with that?" Dennis began.

Armsmaster lunged toward us to swivel the camera on Dennis. "Focusing! Okay pick it up."

As Dennis complied, he yelped. "Woah. Finger in a light socket time! But not as painful. More like electric caffeine. Me likey!"

I waited as he panned to me again. "Nothing special… Okay, maybe hit some milestone." There is a book here in my inventory. Not like a real book, it is pixelated like the sword. It has a something on the front, a T-square and a protractor. Heh, For a second I was expecting Illuminati…"

Denis had his hand up and mouth open to speak, then just put his finger down so it was under his chin and pushed his own mouth shut. "No sir. Not _gonna_ do it."

I popped out the book and opened it to diagrams mostly. They were recipes like those that form on my worktable. "Redstone. Iridium. Red Steel. Blue Steel. Black Bronze. Rose Gold."

Armsmaster was getting wide eyed. "No I am not going to be making these right here, right now." I said. "Dennis, you can trigger your power from either hand right. Is it just the fingers?"

He looked sheepish. His mask was open, only the top covering his face to the nose, the rest flipped back around and held with magnetic snaps. He finished his bite of pizza to answer. "In power testing they made me try with every part of me -clothed, thank you very much- and the energy effect is strongest at my fingertips."

"Strong here means duration right?" I noted.

"Well yeah. Except I can't know for sure how long something will stay frozen!" He was a little annoyed.

"Table that a second. How long does your costume freeze if you use say your kneecap?"

He looked at me oddly. "Microseconds. Maybe a full second. Worthless."

I tilted my head a little. "Long enough to block a knife blade, but short enough to act again before they switch to a gun?"

Colin was taking notes now. Okay more notes. "Dennis do as she suggests, and freeze your costume with ahem something other than fingers."

His suit flickered and then released almost immediately. I nodded as Colin took the next step for me. "Now, same way but push it like the book and hold for a count of five."

Even Dennis could follow the bouncing ball. He did so and right on the count of five his costume glimmered back into its normal state. The frozen state was something, the clock faces all over his suit took on a faded look, more grey than black.

"Holy shit. You mean I could have done that all the time?" He groused.

"Not exactly. Have you tried to push your power into something continuously like what we were just doing a minute ago?" I pointedly ignored the look he gave me.

"With your fingers right? No feedback on when it would unfreeze and it was boring right?" I nodded with him.

"So now we come to the thing I told you to table. Freeze the book with your fingers." He did so. "Now try to do what I did and unfreeze it."

His jaw dropped. "But. But that's impossible!"

"So is my doing what I do. So is you freezing it in the first place. Just try to pull in whatever you put out." I calmly added.

He touched the book again and it flickered back into its regular state.

To say he was flabbergasted was really understating things. He spent the next hour or more just trying to get a feel for how much 'freeze' was in an object, trying to set up a series of dominos at angles and have them all fall at a particular time.

Armsmaster watched with interest. "You certainly take things from a different angle."

"Hey, just because my powers come with a help section doesn't mean I don't think about other ways to use them. Speaking of which, here are some samples to keep you busy." I plunked out a smallish nugget of gold, silver and platinum. I think the platinum came from the car… Betting my power optimized the catalytic converter and kept the extra.

"This appears to be refined. Molecular gold? I begin to see why Kid Win ran for his lab. Ahem, if you would excuse me?"

A chuckling noise came from my phone. "That really wasn't very nice you know."

"Ooooh shiny!" We both laughed for a bit.

I was on the rotation tonight, with Aegis and Flechette. A flyer and a swinger -who also swings. That came out wrong every way I thought about it. Before we got going I noted an unusual text message to my PRT phone.

'We need to meet, The_Bert. The app will explain things.'

Huh. One of my old Winslow email account's userid. Well only the PRT should have this phone, so it can't be anything bad, right?

The link was one of those tinyurls that went out to another server and made a connection. I clicked it and saw a progress bar come up on my phone.

In a minute or so as we waited on Aegis to change clothes -band practice ran late- the app finished installing. It showed the opening screen for Minecraft. Yeesh, I'd rather be doing than playing. I clicked out of it and snapped it to my armor clip, camera out as Dragon had requested back at issuing it. Something about watching for power outbursts.

It was the end of the day and we were assigned a nice little tour of the park downtown and some of the area between the Library and the Hospital. Nothing big. It was really quiet tonight.

Flechette was skating along on a chain pulled along by Aegis, using her powers on her shoes.

We were just minding our own business when my phone starting making these weird noises.

"Console here, I'm getting a lot of noise on the line, does someone have their phone going?"

I glanced at Aegis as he ground to a stop. "Yeah. It seems to be my phone just a sec." Unclipping it, I held it up, Strange, the Minecraft app was running. And the map behind was tracking with the movement of the camera -almost like it was showing the same scene from the perspective of the camera.

"Whoah. I can see your data rate spiking." Clockblocker noted from Console. "I'm bringing up your screen remotely. Cool, when did you get into.. Oh. OHHHSHIT."

"That isn't very professional language." Dragon spoke across the feed. "This map is perfectly synced with the Bay, interesting. Oh hello, there appears to be a mob moving your way in the game. And in the real world as well. Pigmen, interesting. And they seem to be led by an Iron Golem."

Flechette was looking the way my phone was pointed as I tried to make sense of it, not at the phone itself. "Console," she hissed. "Call in the big guns, that is Hookwolf coming down the street and he is looking for something to beat on."

Aegis piped in. "Flechette, get to high ground. Mine, you got any idea what this is about?"

"Not a clue. But it is extremely weird that this game thing is showing them like creatures in the game itself, don't you think?"

Flechette was using the Tinker ascender to reel up the side of a building. She had stopped about four stories up on an arch covering the entrance. "They seem to be looking for something."

I heard a voice shout then, just a half block away. "Fan out men. First one brings me a chunk of her armor gets a prize."

Looking around and panning the camera showed there was another group coming the other way. "Second group coming from behind, can we get an ETA on backup?"

"Battery and Assault are on their way."

"Only a Canadian would say them in that order, you know that."

A/N Little short, but would prefer to keep combat together and not crossing posts. It's just an old habit from D&D...

****Spawn 18

"Mine, this is not a winnable fight as it stands. They appear to be gunning for you though. Can you make yourself scarce?", Aegis was using the comm throat mike to whisper.

Holding my phone and comm buds in mind so they wouldn't go with it, I swapped my armor to the stealthier set -well at least it didn't scream come get me. The wood based armor had burls here and there, and a leafy cloak on it. I hadn't really checked it out but the hood seemed like it should come up. We had come to a stop at a plaza with some shrubbery and a couple trees in an island. I hopped the shrubbery and stopped between the trees. Once there I pulled the cloak up and around in the old vampire cliché pose, my arm holding it up. With the other I held my phone up and toggled the sound to only through my buds. Wish I'd thought of that before.

"Can you see me?" I tried to whisper but it seemed loud to me.

"Only because I know where to look. But keep your phone down, the screen is backlighting your features now." Aegis answered. He floated up behind the column of the arch Flechette was on, finding a dark corner of the overhang to blend into.

My mind was racing. As much as I wanted to do something, almost all of these guys -oh and a few girls there too- were just ordinary gangers. Punks with guns. Or older hardened men and women that leaned toward a biker stereotype. Vests and tattoos. Either way, there wasn't much in my arsenal for larger groups that was nonlethal.

I considered my inventory. Needing something to do to help me calm I shifted around stacks and made arrows from wood. A string shot would be nice, but not enough available to hit a crowd. Tranqs? Only have the one I'd filched from Shadow Stalker's stuff, and no drugs to make more -or do I? When I crafted, some things were taken as recipe templates. Maybe if I crossed that bolt with my arrows I would get tranq arrows? Seemed possible. I put three stacks of fresh arrows and the tranq bolt into the workstation and tried to align them. No good. Clearing all but the bolt out, I tried examining the tranq. Recipe acquired. Doot. Shush you! I snatched the little blob of xp before it lit me up like a Christmas tree. I put the recipe in place and stuff out of inventory jumped into the workstation. Crossbow bolts? No I clicked the recipe and changed the weapon to arrow. Then my arrows jumped in, while the materials to make bolts dropped off. Now I had three hundred arrow stacks of tranq arrows.

Glancing around I could see the neo Nazis were much closer. Hookwolf was near the center of the street and had stopped. His swarm of metal looked so much like bees or something from an old movie 'Lawnmower Man' I think -all done in early CGI. His men were spread out around and walking forward warily.

His wolf form swarm reared up and became human shaped, still close to nine feet tall. He clacked his fingers together three times, the glass sound of beer bottles carrying. "Wards, come out and play!"

I must have sniggered at his movie reference. Or he already knew where I was. Either way, the big head turned to look in my direction."Ello poppet."

Just about to break cover I saw his head looking up -at Flechette. I can only assume she saw him too as a bolt shot past to hit two, no three of his swirling pieces. The mass seemed to struggle instead of moving fluidly. She'd imbued her chain with the effect to glue itself into and through anything it hit. His hooked metal orbs were caught up on the chain she'd launched, the same stuff she used to reel herself up to the heights and swing.

The bolt itself was dug well into the concrete of the curb. Hookwolf roared as he felt his limbs twist. But he didn't have joints per se, so it was annoyance not pain. "Kill that Bitch!"

Guns tilted up and the shooting began in earnest. Flechette ducked back under cover, cranking her arbalest like mad. Unlike Shadow Stalker's hand crossbows, this usually took a standing maneuver. She could do it laying down -cheating by locking a foot to the wall to push against- but that way meant she didn't have her own weight helping. The ratcheting mechanism breaks this down into smaller steps, but that wasn't the issue here. She was pinned down and unable to use her mobility without launching a new bolt to swing from. And even that was looking bad.

Thud, Thud, Thud. A cacophony of sirens and alarms rang out.

No one ever tells you that Fenja and Menja can make car alarms go off just by walking down the street. And they were coming. From opposite ends of the street.

"Console, I have eyes on Hookwolf, Fenja and Menja. Flechette is pinned down and Mine and I are maintaining cover. I can get Flechette out but that means leaving Mine behind in their midst." Aegis was calmer than I was.

"Mine, can you go underground?" Miss Militia's voice was clear even though I knew she was coming fast.

"Not fast enough to get clear. There is so much under the streets down here, I'd be an easy target if I try." I was whispering quickly, but as I glanced around to check my six, something shifted and a few shots tracked down to my location.

"Something in the bushes!"

Menja's spear came in fast to strike cleanly right where I was. Well it would have if Mr. Swipey hadn't manifested in my hands held to block. Instead of being -well- speared or smashed aside, the material of her spear was eaten right up to the handle. But then my cover was completely blown as well.

Fenja had just cut the chain to Hookwolf as well, letting him spin up to speed and come blaring in on me. Luckily, for values of luck, the bullets flying dwindled as no one on their side wanted to hit their own capes. Especially since it was known they had anger issues.

A swirl of metal hooks and things scoured the ground. I swung wildly with my giant sized pickaxe -giant for me anyway. There was a moment of silence on the battlefield. I won't say I had my eyes closed, but I may have flinched away as the bushes around me were shredded.

I felt an odd pressure and looked down, seeing a man, well half of a man, lying there. It was just jeans going down to a pair of dirty boots. There wasn't anything else above the waist.

The only sound for the next ten seconds was me barfing. The stunned silence gained a difference as I saw there was still some of the balls with hooks and spikes moving. The legs began to boil into small silvery balls as he began to reform. A larger ball thing hovering above turned and I could see an eye looking at me. It was like a funhouse mirror, distorted, but the face inside was angry, the eye bloodshot and exaggerated.

As it dove toward me I swung again and this time there was a crunching pop to go with it. A full sized body hit the ground, unconscious. Blond hair, no shirt, and the jeans over boots. Where skin was visible it was torn and bloody, like he'd spent some time in his own storm of blades.

DOOT-da-da-DOOT! A ball the size of a volleyball formed right next to me, the brief surge of xp and energy helping to break the combat freeze. It also acted to blind a few wild shooters looking my way.

There was no way I was staying here any longer. I bolted away from where he lay, nearly impaling myself on Fenja's sword as she stepped in to cleave me. Her stroke skimmed along the ground as she advanced, shield forward to knock me down for the kill stroke. There was a ringing noise as I ran through the shield, leaving a hole the size of a single car garage door. Passing her foot I tagged it too, taking her armor from her foot up through the knee piece. And maybe a chunk of the ground under her foot as well…

"Timber!" I called, tossing one of my water blocks over my shoulder and blur stepping down the street.

"What the holy fuck!" Fenja screamed, her foot sliding out from under her. No traction, okay no shoe or ground beneath, and a sudden splash of cold seawater right by her one solid footing. To say she skidded forward was no joke when she out massed that RV Squealer was driving. Forty feet of woman flailing shot down the street.

Menja dodged to her right to evade the sword and seemed to steady her sister somewhat. What happened to Hookwolf might have been something he would like if he'd been conscious to experience it. I think she was wearing shorts under the armored skirt. Right now she would need some help with a massive wedgie.

There were Empire 88 goons knocked down all over, scattered like tenpins. I stopped my blur steps just on the other side of them, turning to face the combat. I found myself holding a ship anchor sized pickaxe in front of a crowd of maybe twenty or so gun toting neo Nazis. All frozen in fear. All looking at me.

"Drop it!" I yelled.

I swear three guys right up front peed themselves. The sound of guns hitting the pavement was amazing. And then a voice cleared behind me.

"I thought we said to maintain cover until we arrived…" It was Miss Militia in the sidecar of Armsmaster's motorcycle. Now, you may wonder how such a big nasty Hog could be so quiet -well the secret is that it isn't a gas guzzling monstrosity. It just has a gas guzzling recharging unit where the regular motor would be. The real bike is electric. As I looked, Armsmaster was unseating his Halberd, locked into the handlebars like a lance. Miss Militia had something I swear I'd only seen in a diagram showing an A-10 in cross section.

Suddenly the men being rounded up and handcuffed were not such the accomplishment.

"Spear chick spotted me and tried to make a Mine-ka-bob. The Hookwolf attacked. He's out cold, and well he might be somewhere up her shorts. Only one of the twins is down."

"Aegis here. I, ah, convinced Rune to disengage. Vista is making it interesting for Fenja and Menja to get to their feet. She's helped Flechette get clear. Assault and Battery are monitoring the other side. No Kaiser yet, but that may change any moment now."

"Speak of the devil." Armsmaster spoke, dismounting. A wall of blades was rising, blocking access to the nazis. Only those already in custody were on our side. A rolling thunder of shotgun shells rang out as Miss Militia let loose with the up autoshotgun version of the stringshot. Arms trapped to their sides, they fell into each other and were glued tight.

I swung the pickaxe and cleared a large path in front of me. I brought out a torch to better see the area. A moment later there was a crack. I stumbled and fell to the ground, everything going black.

The events that followed were documented in the paper, on the news feeds, the internet. For the first time in twenty years, the PRT took off the kid gloves. Miss Militia shot the building where Victor was sniping, using a chain gun, not Stringshots. He was invulnerable, but unable to act as she chewed her weapon across the stone in front and under him. Othala wasn't able to keep contact or renew his invincibility. He fell to his death.

Aegis kept restraint as he caught Othala before she hit the ground. Those PRT Troopers who saw the bullet cut through my armor were later exonerated for slinging their Stringshots and switching to sidearms. Thirty two Empire shooters were shot dead in the crossfire.

Kaiser was taken into custody with one arm missing at the shoulder, the blood loss sufficient to disable him. Fenja and Menja were hospitalized and removed from the scene later. They were trussed to the ground like Gulliver, only these Liliputians also strapped in claymores to enhance their good behavior.

I saw nothing of this. I was dead.

The end.

.

..

…

…..

…...

But the game goes on…

And as the morning dawned, a teary eyed man sat in a chair crying. He was comforted by a woman with too many lines around the eyes for her age. Slightly darker skin of her hand covered his trembling hands as he prayed, faith found again in disaster.

The clock chimed, ten times in a house with no music, no TV playing. A noise came from upstairs and two hands clenched on one another. Rising unsteadily, Danny Hebert stepped clear of Hannah on the couch, a tiny hope swelling his chest. Hannah herself was still morose, not having seen what he saw in the early morning of the day after the locker.

He started up the stairs slowly, and Hannah raised her head. A cold night it had been, no sleep for him, a kind of weary drain on her normal wakefulness. She'd brought the news no father wanted. That the bastard that did it had fallen fifteen stories to his own death stopped the anger, but not the pain.

A creak from the bedsprings as something shifted. Upstairs. The hope must have showed in his eyes. Hannah rose and took steps to the stair.

"You don't think?" she started.

"It happened before right?" he stopped and listened again. A door shutting and water running. "Taylor?"

The water was cold, refreshing. My chest hurt, a dull ache starting at the base of my throat down to my belly button, I coughed a little and saw blood, a little piece of metal clinking onto the floor of the tub. I was on the floor scrabbling for it, trying to see if it was real. It was the morning after the locker all over again.

The terror flashed in my brain. Only this time it was a crack of distant thunder. The pain thrummed in my chest, my head, my hands. There was a flash and the bathroom took on a strange quality. Like there was no air moving in the room. The water was like tiny blocks scattering into a perfectly flat blue surface in the tub.

I stepped clear and little blue cubes scattered as I swiped my armor onto my person. Boots, Helmet weapons ready. The quiet of this place is shaken as I see things moving up the stairs. They are blurs, not fast just like human shaped smears of color. I don't know what to think. Had I been knocked out briefly? Maybe I was being mastered by some unknown cape right this moment.

Blurring down the stairs, through the kitchen, the screen door just gone in my haste to get out of there. I had to get to the Rig.

There were blurs on the street, but there were skeletons following some of them. And a gathering of pigmen turned my way as one blur waited for a bus at a stop I knew. They charged me, and my sword clove right and left. I felt that they were slower than they should have been. The feel of something burning made me realize my weapon was hot from the friction of striking pigmen down. A flurry of xp balls rose up and moved toward me. I blurred step back through where they'd been gathered a smattering of potions and a golden gun. Great.

The skeletons blocked my way closer to the the ferry. They dove together, their bones gathering into something far larger. The eye sockets remained black, formed of rings of skulls around the darkness. Fire gleamed within as I charged forward.

Skeleton arms holding hands shifted down in a wave across the sockets -the thing was blinking at me in slow motion! Wings made of skeletal legs and hands opened as it reared up. More skeletons gathered from other buildings like a stream of mice running into the bone dragon.

Dragon...

Lung!

The fire spoke, a shot of plasma that did not seem so slow like everything else. It came toward me and a swipe from the big pickaxe took it elsewhere entirely. The hit when I moved through the dragon form shattered it into hundreds of scattered skeletons. The wave of xp balls rising and following me gave my flagging strength another boost. The water at the ferry seemed frozen like glass -only the tiniest shudder running through it as I ran across the waves.

I could see the forcefield going down as the ferry got close. It was moving sooo slow. I'd never been able to see them before. This looked like a shell of transparent blocks pulling up and away from the path of the boat as it slowed to dock. Slowed, heh. To me it was standing still, only jittering forward a bit each time my attention went elsewhere.

Hitting the dock and still shifting forward I didn't see the wake of air hit the unprepared civilians, scattering a few just entering the gift shop. The door to the inner areas was open, a trooper dark blur holding it for another to carry something blurred and square inside. I shot past them and dove for the stairwell. Inside, but as yet seeing only blurs where any person would be.

"Comm. Is anyone there?" I was outside the room I wanted. Armsmaster's lab. But the door would not budge and I knew better than to break into a Tinker lab, even if he could help me with all _this_.

"Dragon? Can you hear me? Its me MINE!" I shouted, looking up at the camera covering the hall. Waving back and forth across it. Nothing.

A long horn sounded in the Bay. Weird. I hadn't heard much since waking, that had been the only sound. It lasted like ten seconds, loud. Then it came again, four second long and sounding like a football air horn. Then three more of the shorted bursts. What, is there a ship crashing into the Rig.

Then it came faster and I understood. "Miiiiiiineeeee. Caaaaaannnnnnn Yooouuuuu heeeeaarrr uussss ?"

The burning sensation was strong now. I felt the waves of energy shedding and noted a counter on my inventory status dropping like a waterfall gauge. It wasn't health but something close to it. Air. I hadn't been breathing.

Checking inventory I noted that the Chronatons were also dropping off inventory one per second. Something was using them like hotcakes. I felt around and turned it off, whatever it was.

Click. Suddenly I had air again. My comm crackled with a burst of high speed static.

"I think I'm back to normal speed." I said into the comm in a wheezy whispery voice.

Dragon's voice came. "Oh thank heaven! We saw you shot. Everyone thinks you are dead. Where are you?" I heard her aside to Armsmaster. "The transmission is close I tell you, from inside the Rig itself."

"I'm just outside your lab Colin." I was leaning on the wall across from it.

The door opened. Armsmaster stepped out, looking right at me a moment, then looked left and right. He straightened up. "I cannot see anything here, Mine, can you see me?"

"Yes!" I walked past him into his lab. Alarms blared and then faded as he turned quickly.

"You entered the lab itself. IFF noted an unaccompanied entry despite my being unable to see you. Do you remember what happened to Dennis when he snuck in here?"

No one forgot that. The images had been added as a meme to the training tapes. Clockblocker had all of five seconds inside before a trapdoor dumped him down a chute that dropped him into a net under the Rig. Someone had skillfully photoshopped out the netting and changed the color of the clouds behind him as he waited morosely for a pickup. The dual sided air car of the Bespin cloud city made it hit home.

Luke hanging on an antennae, ready to fall.

But I was still here because Colin had entered right after me, stopping the measures with a wave.

"Oh my. Colin, have a look at the screen." Dragon's voice came. "Not this one, her cellphone."

My PRT issue phone was on the desk, propped up and displaying a selfie shot from the front facing camera. In it, I could clearly see myself looking normally -as much as I ever did in the armor- and behind me in the phone's image, Colin staring at me. But he could only perceive the me in the phone.

"Oh shit." I can't say who said it first, but it blended so well we might need to find a fourth and take up barber shop singing.

I felt a nudge as the blur behind me touched my back. "Whoah there! North not South if you please."

His hand changed directions smoothly, tracked up to the back of my head. Then he thwacked me with a finger right in the ear. Dang this half helmet and it's lack of protection from slow moving hits to sensitive bits!

"Okay that is definitely her. No one but Missy can pout more than that."

"Can we move along to how the hell I get back to normal? Every person I've met is a blurry image. Like watching me when I move but constantly."

Alarms rang out on the Rig. Doors shut, the big blast doors that shut the halls down on the yellow marked 'do not stand here' areas. Clang. Clang. Softer clang. The PA crackled to life. Director Piggot, sounding tired, "Attention. There is a Master loose in the Rig. Tracking notes that this entity is using a familiar looking power trail, may be attempting to pass as the recently deceased Ward Mine. After the firefight yesterday, remember to use nonlethal until you are sure they are attempting to kill you or your co-workers. Then shoot twice." The mike snapped off.

Colin was already on the visual comms, attempting to reach the Director.

"Ah, you have the Master in custody?" She was clearly tired, her makeup -normally immaculate if sparing- run into streaks.

"No ma'am. You misheard me. We have Mine here. On screen at least. She is alive." He held the cellphone behind me so she could see my back as I looked at her image. Turning to look t the phone, I only heard her intake of breath as I took off the helmet, hair coming down.

"B-b-but you were dead!" she said.

Not much to answer that. "I got better." shrugging.

****Respawn 1

The phone dinged. The game came up on it, showing an icon and a timer. The icon flashed as the timer reached 10 and then when it hit zero there was a flash of blue light. The world got it's detail back. Armsmaster's hand on my shoulder was real and solid, with no blurring.

For some reason Dragon's screen went blank. I swear I could hear her voice saying "If only it were that easy."

"Welcome back Mine." Emily Piggot's voice cracked a little. Her voice hardened. "You have ten minutes to contact your father and then I want you writing up a comprehensive report."

The water had been still running when we got there. Hannah moved past as Danny paused, fearful to open the door. She just turned the knob, pushing the door wide. A gust of wind passed us, pulling the steam out of the room.

Pictures flew off the wall down the stairs.

A wrenching noise from downstairs.

They hurried down to find the screen door gone, flung out into the backyard. Unless we were somehow thrown into a Paranormal Adventures season finales Taylor was alive somehow. Car alarms blared away across the city toward the ocean.

Her hand found his.

Leo was bringing in another load of ice. The big block of dry ice variety. It was the fourth time he'd gone on a run to get it. Roy was frantic about the server overheating, and their poor AC unit was barely touching this. All night long he'd been trying to diagnose what had the server revved to maximum, but it was a mystery.

Then he'd noted a set of email flags and saw that the server had sent out a lot of invites via the cellphone app. The playstyle wasn't very much but it was years ahead of similar efforts on Aleph. Assisted reality stuff. But something wasn't right and his poor server was overclocking like nothing.

And finally, the night was over and their normal wakeup time presented itself. Ten AM and the activity dropped to normal. Pleading with Leo, he cajoled him into looking at the logs while Roy went out for Thai takeout for both of them.

Roy had to pause as he was passing an electronics repair shop -in this part of town, few could afford to buy new, so repairs earned a meager return- as he saw a recap of the previous night's activities. A Ward dead? Fucking-A. Whelp, going to cancel all events for a month? -year? He slowly made his way back to the warehouse/lair/apartment.

As he walked in he saw Leo fist pumping into the air. "Woooo!" he turned at the door closing. "Damn, Roy man, if you'd told me the fighting in this game would be so epic I would be playing myself!" He rolled back a clip extracted from a godlike view in the virtual downtown area.

Roy set down the food and rattled a few keystrokes on his own laptop on the counter. Grunting he lifted it and carried it to where Leo sat Ubering his way through the logs, using them to bring up camera angles.

"I don't know whether these others are NPCs or allies with names turned off, but this guy The_Bert was rocking… right up until he wasn't. They had to be allies though, 'cus the battle got really madface after he dropped. You didn't mention how many mods you applied to get all these powers in there. This guy looks like he's earth bending, throwing up walls and shit. And these two, gigantic stacks of bodies working as one. With a spear, and the other has… " Dawning realization hit him.

"Holy fuck man. You made expys of Empire capes as part of the game!?" Leo stood, walking around a few steps.

"Show me where The_Bert buys the farm." Roy's voice was dead ice.

Frowning, Leo tapped out a sequence, picked the camera again. Hmm, all these angles were from 'cameras' in the buildings, or from The_Bert himself. He picked one from Medhall's front entrance, the big arch had a nice camera mounted there.

"Okay, I've got it queued up.", He was waiting to click go.

"Start it looping, then come over to the big screen. We have to watch several things." Roy was plugging in to send his video feed to the large TV. It was nice and all, but couldn't really use it for PC games without sitting half a room away.

Using the remote, Roy split the screen and picked number 4 for the left. The footage was impressive, showing the fight start from The_Bert hiding in bushes -okay maybe not such a great stealth effect there bud- to a spear the size of a telephone pole being chewed up.

When what he thought had been a creature made entirely of swirling axes and daggers around a red eye attacked it clicked for him. "Hookwolf expy, right?" Leo smiled.

Roy had set his laptop on the counter and was studying the images on that pass. "You ...could say that. You would be wrong, but you could."

Leo scoffed. "Come on now! We both know those are analogs of Fenja, Menja, Hookwolf and well the Pigmen do have the windowstikas on their arms." He folded his arms, challenge given.

Roy brought up video feed of his own on the right side. It was part of a news story, taken from the video feed from the building across from Medhall, since it showed the arched entrance as backdrop. It started with Hookwolf getting ripped in half, reforming and then getting knocked out of his changer form. The giantess Fenja trying to shield bash the figure and tripping legs forward to land on her ass. She shot forward, scooping up the Hookwolf's body and tangling with her stub-of-a-spear wielding twin. Both got down hard. Lots of wet Nazis, although there doesn't seem to be a hydrant going anywhere.

Leo raised a finger in silent protest as the camera view switched to one looking down the street. It clearly showed a cape staring down a mass of twenty Nazis, just as Armsmaster rolled up with Miss Militia in the sidecar.

Holding a 20 mm Gatling gun.

Roy had opened the food, passing a carton and sticks to Leo. "Don't spit take."

Kaiser throwing up a blade barrier.

The cape, Mine obviously sweeping a clear path through it as the Troopers shot mini containment rounds down range. WAITAMINUTE! Mini.

Leo and Roy both nodded to each other at that. Escalation recognized. Future ops would need to…

And then it happened.

Mine dropped like a puppet. The new camera angle was behind and lower so it showed the flash from the shooter, and caught Miss Militia turning away with blood splatter across her mask. Miss Militia switching from a heavy shotgun back to the Gatling and chewing the cornice the sniper had used for cover. A body falling.

PRT Troopers pausing, sharing a look as they slung their shotguns that fired rope and containment foam, drawing more traditional side arms to shoot at anyone not surrendering. Kneecaps, shoulders, their training wouldn't let them go for kill shots except in defense, but heavy caliber handguns and accuracy made for a good argument.

This was a web based news feed, so it didn't edit out anything but faces where identity could be inferred. The next shot showed Kaiser in full plate armor with a sword bigger the he was swinging on a rattled Miss Militia kneeling over mine. One moment sword and arm are there, the next they are sailing free as a blue line shot across the view. Kaiser sank to his knees in pain, blood flowing but also being slowly blocked by iron forming around the wound. Armsmaster moving in, dodging a spear from the ground and sticking a tranq dart directly into the stump -the only unarmored spot on him. Kaiser slumping down. Lots of surrendering taking place.

The newsfeed ended with a frozen image and text scrolling into place.

Mine: KIA

Flechette; wounded by gunfire

PRT: 3 Troopers with minor wounds

Vicktor: KIA

Othala: captured

Kaiser: severely wounded, captured

Fenja: captured

Menja: captured

Hookwolf: captured

Nazis: 38 captured, pending processing

Leo sat down hard on the couch, "This is game changing."

Roy half sat on the couch arm. "The map didn't synchronize fully, but the server was able to keep up with most of…"

"Not that dude! That Ward DIED. D.E.A.D. No respawns, no save game. She died at the hands of a Vill! In this town? Shit man, we need to move… How do you feel about Seattle?" Leo was rambling there.

"Calm down. Mine is obviously The_Bert right? Powers match, server activity the same, hell she was wearing the same armor there." Roy was in lecture mode.

"Sooooo?" Confused Leo was confused.

Roy held out a hand "So what happens in Minecraft when you die?"

"You ... wake up in bed? Seriously?" Leo scrambled back to the server interface. Keys tapping frantically, he brought up the current logs. "Fuck me sideways. He, I mean she, is online right now."

"It's a damn good thing too. I hate coffee places, so Seattle would have sucked." Roy ducked as a wad of napkins flew his way. "But we do need to think about protecting the server and beefing it up."

"Why?"

"Dude, if the server connecting to her power is the only thing keeping her alive..?"

"Oh riiight." Leo tapped his nose with a finger. "Have you ever made a giant heat sink?"

Roy's eyes lit up. His power did that at times when it found a dusty little corner of the Yggdrasil of tech trees to play with. "How much mercury can you get your hands on?"

I missed school entirely. Nothing for it. Even after returning from the other reality of the game, some things were slow to come back to normal. My hair for instance, was pure white. Slowly as I wrote out my reports, it's as if I was paying a penalty for the accelerated time field. The brown was almost back when Gallant came in and knocked on the door of my little cube room.

"Mine, you masked up. We have visitors." Dean was a nice guy. Too nice sometimes as he always danced around your feelings. He had stayed scarce of me for days after feeling me and Shadow Stalker meet up close. "Glory Girl and Panacea came to check up on you."

"Yeah girl, get on out here." Vicky's voice called.

I slipped on my helmet, not having unmasked to either of them yet. My currently white hair peeking out would further cement the differences.

Panacea was looking bleary eyed. Not like crying, not really. "May I heal you?"

"What for? I'm fine."

"You took an anti material sniper round to the chest. There was video footage showing the exit wound the size of a bowling ball." she snorted "And you are fine?" Okay maybe crying and mad.

Glory added "We all thought you were dead until some pundit announced you'd been seen as a blur moving through the Docks. Something threw Lung into the ocean to cool off. If it wasn't you then Velocity has changed to eating his Wheaties."

"Ah Guilty I think. I wasn't really all there this morning." I chuckled.

Amy was not dissuaded or distracted easily. "Again, can I heal you?" She was holding out a hand.

Reluctantly, I ungloved and reached out. Her eyes unfocused and she hummed. "A lot of hints of damage, but most of this is older. Oh. trigger event. Heart and lungs are intact, new even. There is a lot of that sparkly stuff I feel moving around in you, like what showed in the patients your healing vial was given to. Did _you_ drink one?"

"No."

"Oh, sweet do." Vicky whispered. "How do you make your hair color change?"

Amy's eyes snapped up to my hair and then mine. I could see things click in her mind. Sighing, I took off my helmet and revealed just Taylor underneath.

"No way!" Vicky grumbled. "Damn, Ames you are psychic." She dug a bill out of her pocket and passed it to Amy. "By the way boy toy, since she just took my lunch money, you are buying." Vicky and Dean walked away from the door to my little room in the Wards zone.

"So, how long did you suspect?" I asked.

She raised an eyebrow. "Carrots."

I face palmed. "Dammit, I knew I was forgetting something. Come on, you can help me harvest."

Dragging Amy along, we went to the door to my little garden room. "Okay stand there and when I say go, pull that rope to open the viewing port."

She got to the side and held the port. I summoned up bow and arrows, pulled it back and charged up for a heavy shot. "Now."

Amy pulled, opening the port. I leaned into it and shot a cone shaped mass of arrows inside, obliterating the skeletons within. Counting to ten I peeked again. Still a few to go.

"Is that robe bullet or arrow proof?" I asked.

"Uh, no." She answered.

"You really need to upgrade then. My wood armor didn't stand up to the sniper, but this does. Let me see. I checked and found a recipe for chain armor that was five points better than the wood and only three less than my own good armor. It was thin, like a t-shirt, but long enough to reach her knees. Producing it, I handed it over to Amy. "Put this on over your clothes and under your robe."

She began, ahem, disrobing. "You are giving this to me?"

"We _are_ friends right.", I noted, helping her get the chain hauberk -as the ID function noted- over her head, positioned to slide down. "Besides, Armsmaster made it a rule that I can't go in here alone. And I don't want to explain to your mom that I got you shot with arrows by power created skeletons. Heh. Want a hammer to go with it, milady cleric?"

"Pfffft. I'm no cleric. I'm a white mage.. So give me a staff." she smiled, clearly getting into the spirit of things. Opening the door with bow ready I targeted the far right corner and shot. A stumbler came running in to get tripped and smacked by Panacea.

"This is fun!" A small wave of xp balls floated our way. "What are those?'

"XP!" I crowed. "Grab some. It's like electric chocolate that doesn't make you fat." I nudged her in front so a lot of them hit her and were absorbed. Oh I got some too, but this was her first time, so I made sure she got a bunch.

"Wow." She rocked back. "What is that thing on the ground there?"

"Oh was there an item drop? Cool." I reached down and picked up something that looked like a baklava ski mask made of grey silk. Armor 9? Must be magical then. "Here, try this. It's armor for your open face, to go with the chain."

She put it on and faced me. "How does it look?"

I squinted. "Like it isn't there. Aside from your hair being held close, it doesn't look like you are wearing anything. It's got higher armor value than the chain armor -which is mostly titanium if anyone asks. Can you see and breathe okay?"

"Yes to both. This is really cool." She started to take it off and I blocked her.

"Keep it. I like having a healer friend on call." I looked around. Aha. "And you can help me pick up vials as well as harvest."

Amy brought back six vials from her side of the room. A nice haul, but likely because of first timer bonus. Hmmm. Might have to rotate through the Wards and Protectorate capes if that rule holds true. I found three myself.

Once that was done, Amy sighed. "The skeletons must have trampled your harvest. There is nothing here."

"That's right, you've never seen how this works. Okay, watch the plants as I flick the lights off and on again." I blur stepped to the switch at the door and flicked it off for a count of three and on.

" .god."

Every plant in the room was suddenly bearing fruit. Or as was the case of the carrots and potatoes, a stack was sitting on the block with the plant.

I blur stepped back and pulled some empty harvest baskets out of inventory. "Just drop them someplace convenient and fill them where they sit. I can take them into inventory as baskets better than singly, the stacks don't fill as fast."

"Right."

"And save out a mixed basket to take home for later."

Something was niggling at the back of my mind. Vials. Vials… Oh Mr. Calle. I took out my phone and found it had been set to mute -probably Armsmaster last night. Missed calls from Dad and Quinn Calle. Yikes.

I called him and got his secretary. She seemed genuinely happy to hear from me. Mr. Calle was flying back from England last night when he saw the news. At that point it wasn't clear who had been injured or killed. By the time the street video leaked, he was asleep. He got in maybe an hour ago and was alerted by the PRT legal staff that you were not dead after all.

There was a transfer of the line. "Mine? Are you doing well today?"

"I'm fine Mr. Calle. No worries. Just took a little lie down and I am fit as a fiddle." I tried for lighthearted.

"Don't lie to your lawyer." he paused. "That was a very fortunate outcome due to your powers. May I strongly suggest you not be using the lighter armor again? If you need stealth, then work out how to have dark but very tough armor on. Snipers aren't your only worry."

"Yes, Mr. Calle. I will bear that in mind."

"On a lighter note, the new vials you provided were sold. It's a very profitable endeavor for me, not nearly as much work as I usually need to do, so don't go dying for real on me."

"Why Mr. Calle, one might think you care."

"One. might." he chuckled low. "Good bye Mine, see you at the office, anytime. Bring carrots." Click.

Amy was reaching the more difficult section, blueberries. "Now with these I just cut the base of the bush and take the whole thing into inventory. The bush grows back and I get the berries and the wood for other stuff."

"But that's … cheating." She whined.

"Nu-uh." I declaimed. Standing proud. "I just systemed the game."

She mashed a handful of berries into my face.

****Respawn 2

As we emerged from the lower section and passed the cafeteria area I dropped off a couple baskets for apportionment into salads. After Marge related she needed to do more to feel like she was doing her job I couldn't take that away. Okay, I did do the carrots sometimes for the folks that preferred strings to slices.

We snagged a table and I laid out samples of several of the veggies, preparing them for use. Carrot sticks. Lettuce. Cherry tomatoes.

Hmm. Some of the new items in inventory called to me. There was fire, plasma, some interesting metals. I made a four-legged metal bowl and filled it with charcoal mixed with fire. Instant chafing dish. Making a wok pan was easy enough, and I already had salad oil on hand. Oooh, the meat! Slicing it thin we soon had an audience as I cooked tidbit slices and laid them out on a plate.

Wheat from the other farm location became flour, mixed with water and eggs -they do keep some here- and I made tortilla dough and rolled out and made tortillas on a pan made for that purpose.

Eventually sated, even the latecomers swinging in to try sandwich rollups and homemade mustard wasabi, we moved to the Wards main area and sat on the couch relaxing.

Amy was getting pensive again. "Okay, spill it."

She looked at me and shrugged it off to talk. "Okay, so the things I can see working on you or in the people you give your vials. They aren't exactly machines. Nor are they exactly biologic. My power sees them but has a hard time getting them to do one thing or another."

"And?"

She lowered her voice. "And I think I can make them myself."

"What?!" My jaw dropped. Damn, girl just jacked my ride. Well, after I jacked hers I guess.

"I've seen several of them and worked out what the only difference it. It's a timer function, for how long they can work and how many of them can be in an area at one time. I got another sample of the ones working on you and well, I made some of them in me while you were making the food."

I nodded. "Are they working as expected?"

She held up a hand and used her other hand to draw a small knife across her palm. "See?" Just like the knife going across split the skin, the cut sealed itself down her hand.

I held up a hand with four fingers showing. Then three. The two. Then one.

The PA crackled to life. "Mine and Panacea, please report to Armsmaster's laboratory."

I sighed as I stood, mouthing 'Big sister is watching.'

My phone chirped with a text. It said. "Big sister can read lips too."

Grinning I dragged a suddenly bashful Panacea down to see Armsmaster.

Once we were seated at his workbench across from him, Colin set a small glass petri dish in front of us, one for each. "Can you each give me a sample from a cut and show me this regeneration on camera?"

Amy cut her palm a little, wincing. A few drops hit the dish. He supplied a cover and took it as her cut healed on camera.

I repeated the process, noting with interest as my blood seemed to move toward me in the dish for a moment before settling down. On my cut, silvery stitches happened first, and then the skin reformed.

He put one more dish in front of Amy. "Can you try to make just the nanomachines into the petri dish?"

"They are made from something. Usually 'me'" Hmm, let me try something. She put her fingertip just above the dish and a silvery sliver poked out of the fingertip like a bit of toothpaste coming out of a tube. The paste stayed still. "It isn't active until it attaches to a biological sample with nerve pulses."

A different tack. I brought out the black iron Kaiser had made. "This reads as black iron. Meteoric really. I can smelt it to make Orichalcum. There is a good chunk of it available and it would be something I can do in front of you, even if it isn't outside inventory."

Armsmaster tilted his head. "I don't understand."

Holding up my phone I pointed to the interface. "You can send this to your screen, right? So point it at me when I have my inventory up and active."

"Oh. Oh my. You have meat in your inventory. And sixteen heal potions. And two thousand ingots of steel…" He fixed me with a look I felt right through his visor. "Young lady, after this session we are going to sit down and _inventory_ your inventory."

This was totally ruined by the image of a chibi Armsmaster waggling a finger that Dragon put on the screen behind me. Panacea broke first, the giggling infectious and all I could do was point behind him. And of course, Dragon's face was on the monitor, looking innocent. Then she stuck her tongue out as he turned back.

"Ah yes, teenagers. Amusing. That goes for you too Dragon."

He brought up a larger screen -well it was projected on the wall above us. "Do you need quiet for this, or can we comment?"

"Narrate all you like. I seem to lose time when I've done it before." I glanced at him to find him nodding at that.

"So it is a little like Tinkering after all." He seemed content.

Amy looked a little left out. I wondered if there was any way to get her more involved. Dootle doot. Both our eyes widened as a golden token, a coin-shaped disc of energy lifted free of the phone and moved to her hand. Dooot-doot-doot-do-doo. A phone formed in the air above her hand and dropped with a thump.

Armsmaster had turned away to set up a better camera angle and missed it.

The phone in Amy's hand showed the Minecraft screen, with a dialog box up offering an invitation to join the server, y/n. She held the phone so I could see and I nodded slightly.

Hitting 'Y', she was absorbed in entering a name for a moment. I smiled as I saw a new entry in the party window in the bottom left of my screen. "AD_Hlz" The smiled and I saw here manifest a small dagger.

I shook my head. I manifested the white stave I'd given her to hit the skeletons with, and she moved it to her inventory. We passed things from mine to hers, a shield, some spare armors, a sword or three, torches, containment foam grenades, water blocks.

Dragon's face on the screen was going wide-eyed now and Amy and I both pulled down our right eyelids and stuck out our tongues at her. Her laughter was muted though and Armsmaster, bless his heart, just sighed when he caught the pose.

Armsmaster wasn't totally clueless, just oblivious. "Something has changed in the screen. There is another member in your 'party'?"

Amy raised her hand. "Guilty."

"Ahem, raising your Trump rating from four to six I think." He added light on the desk and dimmed the rest a bit to make the projected image more clear.

As I brought my workbench page center stage, I started adding coal to the forge. Taking a shortcut to bring the heat up to where it needed to be, I moved plasma from Lung's attack into it. Switching to the crusher, I started smashing the iron ingots to powders. While I worked I checked for catalysts that would work to hold this all together. Something lit up I did not expect, the ingots of Biotic steel from Hookwolf. Smashing the biotic steel to powder felt right.

"Do you have any platinum handy?" I asked.

"Yes, but it will come out of your …" Armsmaster began but quieted as I manifested a healing vial on his countertop.

"Going rate for that is one hundred thousand. Can you run me a tab?" I was done with pauses.

"Right. I have just under a pound handy." He took out the little ingot from a locked drawer.

Taking the ingot in and grinding it in turn to powder.

Mixing powders. Smelting. Smelting. If there was a montage in there I wasn't aware of it.

"Well, I don't have enough to make a full set. But I can upgrade my greave and bracer slots. All that iron counted as ore after all."

Amy was looking at me oddly. "I thought you were making Orichalcum?"

Frowning now "I was...oh I didn't stop there. Damn recipes just kept flipping into the next step…" I looked at this stuff "Calengil. That wasn't on my list when I started it. Oh hey, some stuff opened up when you joined the game. Cool."

Amy was flipping through the manual -guess she'd been busy while I was ah occupied. "I have a page in my inventory you don't." She sounded nervous and a little -well- proud? "It is spell crafting. I think I can enchant things. And Calengil is supposed to be highly enchantable."

Dragon joined the conversation finally. Even Colin couldn't handle her bunny eyes looks. I don't know exactly when he'd muted her, somewhere before we'd arrived I think. Dominance games, feh. "Panacea, look at your stats sheet. It says you are a Caster class. So you get certain mods that aren't available to others. Mine is an Artificer."

"Really, then what is mine?" I asked, finally getting to do the joke on someone else.

"Me? But I'm not . in . the . WHAT DID YOU JUST DO?" Dragon's voice got tense.

"I sent you an invite, duh." I didn't expect her to break out the waterworks over just that. "Ooh shit. Sorry. I really am. I didn't notice it was a limited number of invites available to each original player…"

Armsmaster played it off well. "Oh, nothing wrong there. It would be inefficient to try to document this and partake of a game. It would be distracting, and impact my duties no doubt." He trailed off a little there.

Amy had not been as distracted as the rest of us had. "There are some enchantment recipes here. A fuck ton of them."

"Language!" both adults chorused.

"Right. Right. Look, you know how I've been called on to patch up the Wards time and again? And occasionally 'helped' injured vill so they don't bleed out for transfer?" She gave Armsmaster a glare. Wow, must have learned that from her mom, he is wilting. "Well, it seems almost every cape I've ever 'read' or healed has given me an entry here. There are a few more, without names, but they look to be untapped triggers possibly. As SPELLS. Like, to enchant things…"

Amy pointed at the bracers and greaves. Then she got a crafty gleam in her eye. And I do mean 'crafty'. "You had just a few pieces of Calengil left right, pass them over please. And that and that." She said pointing to my inventory.

She took the pair of boots, the Calengil armor inserts -like plates toward making bigger plates- and merged them, putting the bucket of fire, some meteoric dust. Something was happening.

Amy, her first five minutes into the game, crafted some cool ass boots, Which she then put on, kicking her sneakers off -and into inventory. It may take a while for me to get used to _other_ people doing that.

"Right. That's niiiice." Okay, she was rocking back and forth, apparently wiggling her toes. Oh yeah, those were sheepskin boots she added the armor panels.

"Okay, Sorry. Enchantment of these will require some gold, a ten stack of that Chronaton -where did you get that anyway?- and a decision. You can have one linked enchantment that is bigger, a set bonus, or several smaller things."

Woah. This is your Amy. This is your Amy on Minecraft. Get the picture?

"Slow down. All right give me an example of small things…"

She thumbed back a page or two. "Defense things for environmental. This one gives you a bubble of purified air around your body, can breathe underwater and blocks out gases. This one can mute your presence in the physical world, you are less visible the further away you are. That would also reduce your blur trail I think. Ummm…. Some of these are not allowed in armor. Okay right, lot of protections that you can pick types. Light and Sound maybe?"

"If the set bonus was stronger, why wouldn't you want that?" Dragon spoke up.

"Flexibility" I answered. "If I swap out one greave, later, I don't want to lose all of the set bonus for just one thing. Like having a tool for the job at hand, you try to bring the tools appropriate to the job, but swap in something specific as needed. But I am liking the protection things. I mean, Stormtiger's air slash should be reduced by the air bubble thing and Cricket can't disorient me if the sound is damped." Back to Amy. "Are they constants or can they be dialed up and down?"

"Looks like you can control them."

"I'm sold on the ones you mentioned. Here's the gold I have."

Armsmaster reluctantly opened his drawer again and took out a spool of gold "I don't have any of that pure gold you use, just the 24k variety."

I tagged it into inventory and back out in two piles. "You only have to ask."

We were able to split up preparations a bit. Amy passed me the recipe glyph for each and I cut the shapes into the surface of the armor pieces. It only worked for me because I had tools in inventory that could work the stuff. Inlaying the gold I moved them to her inventory for the casting. She passed me a bow recipe and a couple stacks of bone to work on while she cast."

Pretty soon, okay about another two hours, she passed them back and I happily traded out the bow.

There was a rapping on the door. Armsmaster clicked a control to open it. Glory Girl was there with a phone in hand. "Ames! Mom wants to know why your phone is on mute? She says the Hospital called and wondered if you were okay."

"I'm fine." She settled onto the stool contented looking. "Really good actually."

"Ahem. Victoria, would you please reign in your aura?" Armsmaster was not wincing. No, not really, nor did he take a half step back. I realized there was that pressure, kind of like having your ears ready to pop in a flight.

Amy locked eyes with me and I saw that she too felt it and noted her looking at the status effects list of the interface. 'Master' status. She thumped the staff and a little glow brightened the room. The status effect was gone, as was the pressure.

"Thank you." Armsmaster firmed up unobtrusively.

"Whut just happened?", Vicky groused. She focused on Amy. "And where did you get those boots! Soo coool."

Amy ignored her and took the phone. "Yes, Mom. Lost track of time helping out with Armsmaster, Dragon, and Mine." Pause. "Yes, she's fine. You want to what? Okay."

Apologetically, she offered me the phone.

"Yes, Mrs. Dallon?" I asked.

"Just wanted to say we are all glad you are feeling better... That said, WHAT IN HELL WERE YOU THINKING!?" Shouting

I had to hold the phone away from my ear. "Starting where?"

A pause, Carol asked right back. "What do you mean where?" Wow, she could go calm quickly.

"Do you mean when I was patrolling the streets and saw that we were surrounded by a goon squad led by Hookwolf who was actively looking to collect some 'armor from that bitch'? Or when I paused after taking down three Empire capes with the cavalry arrived and at my back? Or are you meaning before that where the only way I could explain that I wouldn't stay dead was that my trigger event already had underlined the fucking point!" Okay, I was breathing heavy by that point.

"And before you make some comment on my armor, like somebody I am looking at…" a glance at Glory Girl who shrunk back a notch, "I was at least wearing armor. My best armor would have shown my position to half the street while trying to hide, so I opted for stealth and paid the price. It would have stopped small arms by the by. But at least I was wearing _something_. Do you realize when I asked Amy if she was wearing any protective gear she didn't even realize that was an option? Well, now she does have some. So if she gets shot and lives through it, you know why."

Okay, it was terribly 'teen' of me, go figure, but I tossed the phone back to Vicky. I waved goodbye to Armsmaster and Dragon over Amy's shoulder as I hugged her. She glommed on hard for a second in thanks. Then I blur-stepped out and down the hall. I got to the ferry dock and stopped a moment. Great exit, now I either wait for the ferry or do the water walking thing again.

Hold on. I wonder if it worked like the bow? I took a sprinter's stance and held down, building energy. A glow surrounded me, but there was no reflection from the glass in the little kiosk across from me. I stepped forward and kept on running. No blurry trail like this, but not a lot of steering ...and hello beach.

Leaping up with all that forward momentum put me flying down the street at fifteen feet up. The featherfall effect kicked in, so I sailed down the east-west avenue until well into the backside of the docks. Crouching midair, I came down instantly and blur-stepping onward. There was still a little glow, but I adjusted things and found my glow trail sputtered out a dozen feet back from me, not the full length of the step -like it had before.

I took the back alley between the houses and stopped at the empty house behind ours. I stepped in, went into the old shed there and dug a hole down into my original tunnels. Blocking the opening with a locked door -what a concept! A door with a lock added. Thank you Captain Obvious -aka Clockblocker. Grrr. I owed the dork a pizza now. I turned with sword in hand and cleared the tunnel out, harvesting on that end as well.

Hmm, more than I really needed and I did say at school that the DWU was selling my veggies, right. I cleared to the Marquis lair -yes a locked door there too- and checked the light board. Yep, Dad's office was lit up. I exited the door, remembering to lock it up, and blurred around to the loading docks.

The nightshift foreman, Kurt nodded at me, walking over. "Uh hey, Mine. Not planning on any fights nearby right?" He sounded nervous.

"Course not. Just dropping some veggies to sell. Prices on the list there, first column is for Union discount, second is for any outsiders who turn up looking for them. The difference between the two for outsiders goes into the Union fund." I was dropping basket after basket of fresh foodstuff onto the loading dock. "Also, I got in 'in' with the Butcher who owns 'German Town Sausages', I can get low priced meat for Union guys as well." I handed him a paper wrapped porterhouse. Looking around I brought out a stack of them and waved the guys on hand to each take one.

He blinked a couple times, then actually got a tear in his eyes. Carefully placing his paper-wrapped steak and clipboard on the desk beside him he started clapping, slowly. The other guys present clapped along enthusiastically. If I'd been running for Mayor, Rory's dad would be out of a job.

"So where is Mr. Hebert?" I asked, wanting to clear it with him. Why was Kurt blushing?

"He ah, he's in his office… Ah, he is busy I think." Kurt, stammering. What the what?

I blur stepped down the open hall and up the stairs to the office level. Dad's door had an opaque window in it, the light showed his silhouette… and another. They were kissing? And saying goodbye. And, oh crap I know that voice! I blur stepped out of there so fast…

I was really glad the trail ended just a few feet back from where the last step stopped. Back on the docks level, by the food, which the boys were moving into a long disused farm stand. It was actually what gave me the idea, that old farm stand was where we had bought our veggies when I was a kid. But the old farmer wasn't able to keep up the trips and his son moved away. Hmmm. Ideas forming. Later, brain.

Dad. Involved. And with Hannah? Okay, that part I could see. She was gorgeous even if you focused on the weathering her life had given her. I personally think the crow's feet were more do to extra time to worry from being awake for what twenty odd years since she triggered? That much time to think -yikes. Okay, that said, she seemed like a nice person and all. Not mom… but maybe mom material. Right. Jumping the gun.

Oh, BAD IMAGE. Bad mind, no cookie.

Trying not to allow that brief image of parental interaction back into my head I heard a light tread on the stair.

"Oh, hey there Mine. So you brought the stuff for the farm stand, great." Dad's voice had a concerned edge to it.

"That's right, Mr. Hebert. One truckload to start. I threw in a few steaks for the boys and noted the meat prices I can get downtown for the Union members." my voice was a little wooden.

"That's super. Thanks for calling the PRT about the damages. They sent their rep here to make sure make sure it was all cleared up." He pointed back up the stairs where Hannah had stopped. "Miss Watts, have you met Mine?"

She came down slowly and stopped, closer to Danny. Hmph.

"Hello, Mine. I'm Hannah Watts, I don't think we've met yet. I work downtown and sometimes travel to other cities. I'm really more of an adjustor but my colleagues all call me a 'combat accountant'." She smiled a little at the worn joke.

"The Union did a good job documenting the damages. There were surprisingly few considering the weaponry involved. I think the fact this building was put up during the original boom saved it, the whole front walls are double thick filled concrete block, with hardwood over it, insulation layers to keep out the cold." She nodded around. "If the attack had been from this side, the damage would have been considerably worse. The fill in the blocks just absorbed anything that got through."

"Except for the windows."

"Yes, And thank you for showing me the offices affected. I am sure we can cover much of the woodwork that needs replacing considering the exterior budget will be so small."

Kurt, off to the side was visibly shaking -trying not to laugh.

Danny turned back to Miss Watts and noted, "Let me walk you to your car. Thanks again Mine, see you … later."

I blur stepped around the corner to get clear of the chuckling Kurt. Walking the last few steps to keep it dark, I thanked the new bracer that dimmed the light works so I could do this in armor. Passing through the doorway and closing it softly, I went down to the lower floor. Stopping in front of the painting to think a moment, I saw and remembered the picture again, taking it to inventory I swiped it over to Amy through the party interface.

Moments later my phone rang.

"What the _hell_ is this? Where did you get that picture?" Okay, she was pissed.

"Slow down. I stopped by my lair under the Union. Well, it's mine now anyway. It used to belong to Marquis. And there was a portrait of a woman. It had that picture tucked into the frame. I thought it looked like you. The back has two names, 'Clarice and Amelia'."

She was calming down, I could tell by her breathing. But her status effect was showing 'Master' again. "Maybe you should do that cure thing you did before. If you were arguing with your mom…"

She must have done so, as the status effect faded. She muffled the phone because I could barely make out. "Goddamit Vicky, keep your aura on low!"

"Sorry" I heard Vicky barely over the sounds of -oh they were still flying

"Right. Okay, so this must be my mom. You said there was a portrait there. Can I come to see it tomorrow? After school I mean." She sounded wistful.

"No problem, yes. I mean, technically you probably own the place. But I call dibs on going in and out through it and the tunnels." I noted.

"Tunnels? No, tell me tomorrow. Mom is still in a tizzy. I got to go." She ended the phone call.

I headed back through the tunnels to the house. Nothing had respawned yet. So another three vials or so. Have to swing by Mr. Calle's office too. And bring carrots. I left myself a note. It was after eight PM when I got home, Dad was in the kitchen alone with coffee brewing.

Coffee? At night. Ah thinking brew, as mom used to put it.

"Taylor? Can we talk?"

I came in from the basement, dressed in normal clothes. My hair had finally cleared up to normal brown, all but a single lock just where I parted in up front. That stayed snowy white. And me with no hair dye in the house.

"Look, kiddo. I'm sorry I didn't bring it up. But you kind of ran off this morning. Hannah was here all night -holding hands!- come on, we thought you were dead!"

Okay, I could buy that. "And then the call you were at the Rig, okay. We hugged. And well, I can't say who started the kiss." He got wistful. "So we talked a bit. Hannah had a shitty life. She has a calling, but she doesn't have friends outside of work. No normal point of contact. And well, for two years or more I have been the same. I beat myself up for letting your mom and I drift a little -she would never have gone haring off to that rally if we had been more in synch. Talking."

He paused, head down. "I screwed that up. But I don't want to screw up again. So I am talking. Can you…"

I was close enough to hug now and did. "Dad. Relax. Hannah is the best. I like her. No problems here. I was just shocked I guess, it took a bit to process." He visibly relaxed. "You know of course that half the PRT will lynch you, no questions asked, if you fuck up with her right?"

"Yep. No pressure, .ever." He replied.

"Now then," He added. "Did somebody say something about steak?"

I shrugged and took out the _cooked_ porterhouse and baked potatoes. Being able to cook in the inventory just by swiping a few things was cheating. But sometimes cheating was the way to go,

A little after the call

Amy was still sore at how they were summarily ordered to come home for a 'family' meeting.

It wasn't a short flight, even direct path. She felt her confidence blossom as her 'mission' grew out of her understanding of the new 'class' she'd taken on. White Mage was too simple. It crossed from Guardian of Life to so many other concepts. The Amy at the end of this trip did not really resemble the little girl who'd started it.

Vicky flew in to land on their front porch, setting Amy down with a little jingle, the door opened and Carol Dallon -in full 'Mom' mode- waved them in and on into the kitchen.

"I don't want you interacting so closely with that Mine anymore." She started, shushing the two before they could begin to interrupt. "She is clearly a loose cannon to make Shadow Stalker look like a team player. That fight last night was the most open battle this city has seen in years! Two capes died! Even if one came back later. So she can come back from death, that will just make her MORE reckless. There were reports this morning she knock Lung right into the Bay without so much as a hello." She was pacing now. "And what is the deal with the stick? She gave you a weapon too?"

Amy was standing with her arms crossed, waiting. "Oh? Is it my turn to speak? Can I explain things calmly before you complain about my _friend_ who you have never met?"

"I will not be spoken to in that tone of voice, young lady!" Her voice rose.

"Mom, have you taken your meds today?" Amy asked, calmly. "Stress reducers, Ulcer meds. All the things you wouldn't let me fix because I wouldn't fix Mark's brain?"

Carol deflated. "What does that have to do with things?"

"Everything." Amy took out three glass vials and placed them on the counter, where they became juice boxes. "These are Mine's healing vials. They go for around one hundred thousand a pop now. They heal better than me, directly. Anything that is wrong with the drinker for twenty-four hours."

"Mark?" Carol breathed.

"Not finished, Mom." Amy added. "You see, since she gave these to me and worked with me I was able to work out how to make more of what is _in_ the potions. It's all time locked biological nanobots that fix up living matter based off the DNA of who it is applied to. And I can make pretty much any amount of it."

Carol backed up a step. "Because yes, I have inherited powers from my father. Marquis. I can do the things you fear the most. Plagues? No problem. Nilbog? He didn't think big enough. But have I shown any of the tendencies you half killed yourself over? Nope."

Amy gestured at the Staff she'd leaned against the counter. "But I get a stick and some armor to better do my job as a _hero_ and you are ready to .pants!"

Vicky was caught like deer in headlights as Amy turned to her. "And you! Do you realize you have been doing all these years what mom was so fucking worried I would do at every touch? Your aura is a drug, you twit." Punctuated with a poke to the forehead. "I've been doing what little I can to keep you from getting sent straight to the BirdCage for _fucking_ years. Do you understand how much of the 'fucked up' in this house is due to your 'love me' waves kicking around their baseline emotional settings?"

Vicky was sweating.

Amy choked a little. "And my own too. It took Mine to point out the status effect on me. Once it cleared I realized why it was happening. You were told to keep me in the background, make sure no one was focused on what I was doing. The whole act was to keep attention on you so no one would consider me in depth."

She turned back to Carol. "Because you were so afraid I'd become a monster. You think I didn't hear it all? Those late night talks with Aunt Sarah. The arguments before dad drifted off. Come on, think about it. Have you honestly hugged me or said one word of encouragement since I triggered?"

Turning back toward Vicky, "And here you go again! Panicking yourself into being angry for disobeying mom."

Carol Dallon, fought her growing anger but as Vicky was feeling attacked and her aura burst out into a ball of hyper-aggression, she manifested a light form Mace and moved to swing at the back of Amy's head.

Victoria saw her mother swinging and grabbed Amy to pull her aside. This dance left her and her forcefield covered body to take the swing. The field tanked the hit and flickered, but was off when Vicky's head hit the doorframe with a meaty thud.

Carol was stunned. Where had that come from?

Amy turned and gestured. "Cura!" The flash of white light draining all the emotions from the household in one step. Mark Dallon, halfway to the kitchen in an angry frenzy paused, flummoxed at his own rage, then lack thereof.

The front door finished opening, the seven-foot tall Manpower holding the knob and part of the door clear where he'd just ripped it free without realizing it. He and Sarah came in to see Amy on the floor, cradling Vicky with a visible dent in the side of her head and blood-filled eyes, gasping, quivering.

Mark grabbed Carol as she started forward. "Let her work hun. It'll be all right. Won't it?" he was having a lucid moment, adrenaline and all, but he didn't think Amy could fix that kind of trauma to the brain. He was worried.

"Guess it is lucky I got a new stick then." As she reached out her hand, the white staff flew to her grip and glowed at the tip. "Now then. Cure." As Amy applied the silvery paste coming from her fingertip to Vicky's brow, a difference could be seen immediately. "I can help her breathing with my old power. But the rest, that is what I got from Mine -freely given, as a friend would."

As the dent and damage smoothed over, Amy pointed to the juice boxes on the table. "Dad, mom, I think you should both have a drink. Of those. And then we can all talk."

Mark held up the juice box, squinting at the lack of label. "I don't like cherry flavor."

"Just drink it, Dad. You _will_ like this." Amy sighed.

Carol fumbled with the straw, shaking. Sarah Pelham took it and stabbed the straw in, holding it steady. She could see the shakes stop, the pupils narrow. It had been years since she saw Mark stand so tall, smiling even.

"This is good." Mark said, coming up for air.

Sarah saw her sister's skin smooth visibly, age lines clearing. "What the fuck is in those?"

"Don't worry, I can make more. Which is going to be an issue if we let anyone know I can just 'make' any of it." Sigh. "It always gets like this when mom throws a fit, am I right?"

Several heads nodded in agreement. Latecomers were filled in slowly. New Wave talked late into the night.

Talked, and listened.