The Mover
San Francisco, Feb. 21, 2011
What is freedom?
If asked, a thousand different people might give a thousand different answers, but, for Craig McNish, the answer was simple. Freedom is the ability to go where you want, when you want, without anyone gainsaying you.
All his life, Craig dreamt of traveling the world - to visit exotic places, meet interesting people and see amazing things. But he knew it was just that, a dream. As a small town kid from West Virginia's coal country, it was doubtful he would ever manage to see New York, let alone Barcelona. His life had been predestined from the time he was born - just like his father and his grandfather before him. He would be born in the same hospital, go to the same high school, work the same coal mine, and die in the same town.
His dream had been dead and buried long before the mine collapse had buried him. Trapped underground, watching his father be crushed under tons of dirt and grime, he broke. On day 3 of being underground, when he realized no help was coming, he screamed that he wouldn't go the same the way his father had, the way his grandfather had. His coworkers had called his name, but he blacked out, and his life changed forever.
He saved his coworkers that day and they, in turn, kept his secret.
Small town folk were solid like that.
For the first few months, life was perfect – drinking bourbon infused hot chocolate off Fisherman's Warf before heading to little Italy for a nice risotto – but then Seattle happened. He was just eating dinner by the bay when the sirens sounded and people started screaming.
Leviathan had arrived.
His life would have been much simpler if he had left. He remembered the moment he decided to stay - when he saw a girl no older than his little cousin nearly get trampled, her mother screaming for someone to help her. That's the funny thing about seeing the world; you tend to realize that people, no matter who they are or where they live, have problems.
They need heroes.
He was still free, an independent contractor – the deliveryman to beat all deliverymen - but being free didn't mean you got to be irresponsible. His dad had taught him that a long time ago, about duty. His father had his own dreams too once, only to give them up after getting his mom pregnant. His Pop could have been a ballplayer - his old man still held the Kentucky record for high school home runs! - But he'd given it up. Done the right thing and raised a good son.
A son that would also do the right thing.
The next Endbringer was scheduled to hit soon. He wasn't looking forward to it. It would be either the Simurgh or Leviathan. While there was no easy Endbringer, he hoped it was Leviathan. And merciful God, he hoped he hadn't just jinxed himself.
Feeling a slight buzzing from his pocket, he pulled out his phone. Only a few people had his number, and a lot of his clientele frequently changed their cell phone number. So, without hesitating, he clicked the answer button.
"This is Strider."
The voice was unfamiliar, but her words quickly put any doubt to rest as to her identity. "Hello, Strider, I hope you do not mind the change to our typical correspondence, but I need to activate my contact with you. However, before we get to that, you should know that the Slaughterhouse Nine will be leaving Missouri and heading towards Ames, Iowa. I would avoid the surrounding 100 miles for a while."
"Edition? Wow. Surprised to finally hear your voice." And he was. Edition never called. He reviewed SAB daily and checked for any private messages. While he hadn't intended to get on SAB initially, he'd been picking up a delivery for Toybox, and Dodge put him in touch with her.
When Edition told him she would, quietly, keep him appraised to where certain roving S-Class threats were, well, he was sold. He'd had a run in with the Nine in Louisville a few years back. Popped outside a bakery only to see the Siberian herself munching on the owners not 10 feet away. If he hadn't been so horrified at the human arm she was treating as an ice cream cone, her expression of stunned disbelief at seeing him would have been funny.
No way was he pressing his luck again.
"Yes, well, needs must, Strider. I need you in the Bay later this week. Be ready to go at 3:00 am, sharp, on the 23rd. I will be in touch tomorrow with further details."
He would have to juggle a bit, but it was doable. No heading to the Austin Rodeo tomorrow night, unfortunately. Oh well, as Edition said, needs must.
"I'll be there."
When she hung up without another word, he tried not to let it get to him.
He'd been around the block enough to know not to judge people for rudeness.
"Brockton Bay," he muttered to himself, putting his phone away. "I suppose there are worse places."
With a step, he was gone.
xxx-2-xxx
The Villain
Underground Lair, Feb. 22 2011
Sitting calmly in his base, Coil contemplated his next move.
With the collapse of the Empire into two distinct and highly competitive factions, the rise and fall of the Merchants, and Lung's continued complacency, the landscape of the Bay had shifted. His acquisition of former Empire territory downtown had been a compulsory action, not a voluntary one. To do nothing would have invited Lung or the suddenly competent Skidmark to move into striking distance. An unacceptable outcome, but expansion had its own risks.
It was the devil's choice really. He could claim territory, displaying his strength to the gangs, but run the risk of drawing greater PRT or Protectorate attention. Conversely, he could do nothing; remain a minor figure to the authorities, but expose his mercenary teams to highly aggressive neighbors who would sense weakness.
It grated.
He wasn't ready.
If he had been able to finalize the Traveler's move to the Bay a few weeks ago, the fall of the Empire and the collapse of the Merchants would have been a boon. The Travelers would have slotted perfectly into the vacuum, unobtrusively tipping the balance in his favor. The Undersiders would continue acting as they were best suited, harassing the gangs, forcing them to withhold resources to defend against hit and run attacks. It was unfortunate that they lacked a suitable heavy-hitter to claim any territory of their own, but right now, the instant the likes of Lung, Hookwolf, or Kaiser knew where to find them, they would be crushed.
In a few weeks, the Traveler's would be ready to move. Accord had finally decided to intercede on his behalf – another favor owed, though one he was more willing to pay than his first. However, until he could manage the logistics behind their move and plan out his 'fighting withdrawal,' he had to stretch his resources to hold his new gains.
He was already seeing probes from the Chosen while Kaiser had redoubled his recruiting efforts. The name E88 still held sway in certain circles, and the call had been put out to like-minded, albeit smaller, less organized, groups in the south. Eventually, E88 would replenish some of their ranks. When that happened, Kaiser would either take back what he saw as 'his' or set about punishing his former subordinate.
He would need to be ready, regardless of what the man chose.
His Tattletale had been given her task, though the necessity of having her conduct research in disposable timelines hampered its progress. Once he had the civilian identities of the Empire and Chosen, he could organize how to go about crushing them both, hamstring Purity's heroic efforts, and draw PRT attention away from his organization.
Once, he would have worried about Lung's response, but that particular problem might soon be solved. Armsmaster, Dragon, and Cask's work had borne fruit, and, if the report from Dragon was accurate, Lung's days might well be numbered.
The Travelers would need to be established by then. Otherwise, the sheer number of potential villains that might flock to fill the void would be unmanageable.
A sharp 'RING'from his current burner phone brought him out of his thoughts. Glancing down, he immediately recognized the number.
Peaking into his alternate timeline, he made a note that he was still undergoing the optional monthly strike squad update from Director Piggot.
Debating the merits of dropping either timeline, he decided to play it safe.
This would be the fourth conversation he would have with Edition, not that she had remembered any of their previous discussions. He would see what she wanted. Neither timeline was irreplaceable; he could maintain his anonymity to the precog if he so chose.
Picking up the phone, he allowed a bit of delight to slip into his voice. "Good morning, Edition, a pleasure to speak with you at last."
A pause.
"You are an exceptionally annoying man, Mr. Coil." The voice was firm. Strange. Had he rattled her? "While I would normally enjoy our back and forth, I am afraid the time for our little game of 'who is the better Thinker' to end."
He froze. Something had changed. He instinctively grasped both timelines.
"Again, I'm afraid that I require you absolute attention on this phone call . . . , Thomas. Exceptional circumstances, I hope you understand. I apologize for the foam in your other timeline."
What!
Startling in his seat near Director Piggot, he nervously gazed around the room. A moment later the door blew inwards from a textbook breaching charge. He, along with the entire room rose to their feet – their weapons had all been checked at the door, they were helpless! Were they under attack? Did Edition set him up? A blur raced into the room, and a moment later, Velocity stood directly in front of him.
No!
Piggot shouted a question, but Velocity ignored her. Then he heard footsteps and the telltale cocking of a gun before a cold muzzle was placed against the back of his head.
Ms. Militia.
No! No! No!
In his safe timeline, he hissed at the Precog. "What have you done!"
"Only what needed to be done to get your attention." Edition's voice was calm. Deliberate. "Rest assured that your identity remains protected in this timeline."
Gripping his phone tightly, he gnashed his teeth. "Breaking the rules, Edition? Hardly sporting. Whatever will your Subscribers say?"
"Considering your continual attempts at using Tattletale to ferret out the identities of the Empire and Chosen, I imagine they will recognize that, much like Skidmark, you crossed that line first."
She knew. Had she always known? He was certain his actions had been hidden from her. Her reporting of him on SAB had only been when he had committed himself to acting. He had tested it again and again. The result was the same every time! But… she had known.
He had been played.
Feeling himself get foamed in his other timeline, Coil decided to bite the bullet and collapsed that timeline.
Splintering his timelines again. He simultaneously said, "You have my attention" and "Fuck you, bitch."
"How rude."
Her response had been the same in both timelines.
This had happened once before.
Edition was like . . . her.
The fact caused him to freeze. It chafed his pride, buttheymight be able to help him. What would their price be to deal with this?
"Let me just stop you there." Again, the voice echoed in both timelines. "I have an understanding with the power brokers."
"What do you want?" His options were now severely limited. Even if Edition was lying, the fact that she even knew about Cauldron made her threat real. He was out of options.
"First, I want to express my apologies for the way this call has started. I have no issue with your plan to rule the Bay. Moreover, Fortress Construction has been a model corporate subscriber, and I do not intend to change my current reporting policy towards you in any way. However, as I said, exceptional circumstances have forced my hand. It is nothing personal, Coil."
Leaning away from the phone, Coil found himself staring at the device in disbelief. Was the girl serious?
A thought tickled at the back of his mind, and in his other timeline he pulled up SAB.
"Does this have to do with the ongoing 'server maintenance' that brought the portal down?"
When she did not immediately answer, he knew he had something. "The maintenance is a cover, isn't it? Something to buy time. Has someone affected your powers?"
"As I said, Mr. Coil, you are a very frustrating man." The first hint of annoyance crept into her voice. "However, in this case, you are correct. I will be incapacitated tomorrow while preparing my news update. I have begun taking steps to minimize the issue, but my temporary debilitation cannot be changed."
"And why tell me this, Edition? Do you require assistance against this threat being levied against you?" He found himself curious. Had a power nullifier gotten to her? No. If that were the case, she would have simply avoided him. Everything he knew about Edition made her clairvoyance, particularly in and around the Bay, to be nearly flawless. She had even managed to see into his discarded timelines. Were there those out there that could blind her to their presence? If so, that was an asset worth pursuing.
"As near as I can tell," the girl sounded utterly blasé about her forthcoming problems, "tomorrow it appears that the stress of attempting to predict where the Simurgh attacks will result in my suffering extreme physiological consequences."
His heart skipped a beat.
"Here?" The question came out as a whisper, and he hated himself for that weakness.
"I won't know until tomorrow." The frustration in Edition's voice came through clear as day. "However, as I said, I am taking steps. And two of those steps relate to you."
Feeling a bout of rage at being perpetually on the back foot throughout this conversation, he snapped, "And what steps are these?"
The amusement returned, reminding him of his Tattletale when she thought she had gotten one over on him. "Well, first of all, I need to convey a warning to you. I will consider any action taken against me tomorrow as a direct violation of the Endbringer truce. I have already arranged for several bodyguards, an open line to Toybox, and the maneuverability of Strider to provide an immediate exit should someone wish to take advantage of me during my moment of weakness. Also, you should know that Toybox has standing instructions to makeallmy Subscribers aware thatyouare the responsible belligerent. Do we understand each other?"
"Yes." He had no reason to violate the truce. Cauldron might step in to help him, but, if word got out, all his plans would be ruined.
"Wonderful. There is the pragmatic future ruler of the Bay that I know and love. " Edition's laughter echoed across the line, and he couldn't help but feel lifted by her words. Did she mean them? Was Edition an asset he could cultivate?
Forcing himself to remain levelheaded, he asked, "I believe you mentioned two issues relating to me?"
A snort came from Edition. "Unwilling to ask what you really want to know, huh? Oh, very well, I suppose there will be plenty of time for that at a later date." Again, he pushed down the anticipation of what her words appeared to express. "But, yes. Coil, I need to purchase your Tattletale. Well, I suppose a lend-lease program might also be acceptable if you are unwilling to allow her to permanently leave the Undersiders. What's your price?"
For the first time throughout the conversation, Coil found himself stunned speechless.
Then, ever so slowly, he smiled.
XXX-3-XXX
The Interpreter
Crown Marriott Marquis Hotel, Feb. 23, 2011
Tattletale stared at the door in front of her like it might bite her. The front desk employee had taken one look at her, a costumed super-villainesses, and while he had been uncomfortable, he was not surprised. He simply handed her a key without being prompted.
Not the first to arrive, others in the room already. People recognizable by a 23-year-old high school drop out with limited knowledge of the cape scene in the Bay.
She reigned in her power. That had been a part of her instructions. She would be using it a lot today, and 'Thinker headache' would not be an acceptable excuse under these circumstances.
Coil had made that very clear when he informed her who would be her temporary "owner."
Was extremely amused. Used word deliberately. Edition purchased me from Coil. Edition will not help me escape Coil.
As much as she hated it, her orders had been clear. Placing the electronic key card against the door reader, she heard the click of the lock and she stepped inside. Only to come face to face with Strider and Purity, whose hands were shaking from trying to contain a massive amount of her barely restrained power.
Amount of energy enough to destroy hotel floor. Can't escape blast radius.
She was going to die.
A second later, Purity powered down.
"You're the last to arrive," Strider said before clicking a Tinkertech device on his shoulder. "Five teleporting in."
Without another word, she suddenly found herselfelsewhere, staring at a television displaying a nervous looking boy in Tinkertech armor. Around the room, several wall-mounted turrets pivoted, the guns whirling into activity, but not firing.
Teleported. Hotel was a decoy. Coil booked the room. Edition didn't trust him. Edition has layers of security for her safety. First, Strider. Only one to know the location of the second room. Purity, second level, her blast was strong enough to destroy entire floor of the hotel. Intentional? Yes. Edition had a third party, not Coil, book the rest of the floor. Rest of floor was unoccupied. The third level, code phrase 'Five teleporting in.' Any deviation and defenses would have opened fire upon their arrival. The fourth level, turrets. No. Tinkertech turrets with orders to fire unless passphrase and arrival occurred within an extremely short window of time. Placed strategically to cover all angles. All furniture in the room but television and small TV stand removed. Why?
Oh, fuck me.
"Do not move." The young Tinker drew her attention away from inspecting thekillboxshe had suddenly found herself. "Performing sweep now."
A red light pulsed at her feet and rose to the ceiling and back down again. The light then ran across all the walls before the room was coated with red lasers in a crisscrossing pattern. The lasers again crossed with each other in a diamond-like shape before turning green, yellow, and white, each repeating the sweep before fading away.
Fifth-layer, checking for Strangers. Lasers evaluate heat signatures, gravitational anomalies, and various radio and light wavelengths.
"Okay, you're clear." The Tinker pressed several buttons on his gauntlet and a small box she had somehow missed at the base of the television stand popped open –hidden by a cloaking device. A small looking disco ball floated into the air, spinning rapidly. She could feel a charge building in the air.
When her hair started to rise up on its own, the ball let out a 'CRACK,' and then she was . . . in the same room? Looking around her, she froze. There was a new door to the right of her that had absolutely not been there before.
Stranger power?
The door opened and the Tinker walked out.
"Hey everyone, this way please." Noticing her inquiring stare, he smiled at her. "Hi! I'm Dodge, nice to meet you!"
Dimensional Tinker. They've been shifted into a parallel dimension. The sixth level of protection.
She shook his hand. "Tattletale."
"Oh, I know, I read your file." The boy smiled brightly at her. "Glad to have you on team Edition. Sorry to hear about that Coil guy. For what its worth, assholes like him are why Toybox was founded. To keep vulnerable Tinkers safe."
She froze.
File?
Edition keeps files on people. Knows about her situation with Coil. Told Dodge.
Turning her head to look at Purity and Strider, neither appeared surprised.
All briefed.
Purity, sympathetic. Might be willing to help so long as Coil is not a threat to her family. Willing to kill me if I prove to be a threat to her family.
Strider, unsurprised. Not unsympathetic, but not his problem.
"Thanks," she muttered back. This was shaping up to be very different from the situation Coil had described.
Dodge simply nodded. "No problem, but we need to move. She's almost ready to get started."
Following the Tinker into the next room, Tattletale's first thought at seeing Edition was . . . disappointment. Sitting in a plush lounge chair, calmly sipping tea, was a girl roughly a year younger than her. She wore a Tinkertech mask that completely concealed the top of her face. The rest of her costume, wait –not a costume– she was wearing PJs?
Hovering nearby Edition were three familiar faces.
Mouse Protector stood directly behind Edition, her characteristically cheerful disposition replaced with stony-eyed seriousness. Her sword was already drawn and her eyes tracked every person who entered.
Seventh level, personal bodyguard. Ready to fight. To kill.
Sitting across from Edition on a couch was Panacea. The healer cape was nervously looking around the room as if the Simurgh would be jumping out from the other side of the wall.
Anxious. Not comfortable being around villains . . . and Edition? Yes. Uncomfortable around Edition. Why? Morality? No/Yes. Black and white worldview. Edition doesn't fit what she has been told a hero should be. Unsure how to react. Edition has caused conflict with a parental figure. Has a contentious relationship with a parental figure. Father? No. Mother. No. Adopted-mother. Carol Dallon, Brandish. Seeking to please mother by being the best possible healer. Burning out. Growing apathetic at the thought of human suffering. Coerced/not Coerced by Edition to be here. Edition anticipates needing healing.
Well, that was interesting in a special kind of horrible way.
Floating between Panacea and Edition, Glory Girl's gaze locked onto the entering group. No, not the group.
Purity. Here to protect Panacea. Non-negotiable. Edition didn't care. Wanted her here. Knows she won't hold back in a fight. Collateral destruction. Eighth level of security.
Shit.
Some of her thoughts must have shown because Glory Girl turned away from Purity, the hero's expression softening upon seeing her.
Sympathetic. Read my file. Wanted to help me. Frustrated. Can't help, no, not allowed to help. Edition wouldn't let her. Part of Edition's deal with Coil, part of her plan to deal with/work with Coil?
Okay, this was bad. She desperately needed to figure out what was going on here. She needed more time to get her footing.
Intentionally given last arrival time. Edition wants to give her as little time as possible to use power on the group.
Oh, that sneaky bitch.
Turning her eyes to Edition, Tattletale tried to glean something about the girl, anything that could be useful.
Calm. No. Calm on the surface, highly unsettled. Nervous about Endbringer? No. Not Endbringer. Accepted she cannot control that. Nervous about the situation? Yes. Meeting people? Being around people?
Is she like Dragon?
Agoraphobia? Demophobia?
No. Not scared of people. Needs to be in control, at all times. Potentially paranoid. Aggressive? Yes. Related to her trigger? Likely.
Edition set down her tea and turned to face the new arrivals.
"Thank you all for coming."Calm. Unbothered by what is about to happen. Has made peace with it."I trust everyone here knows that I take my privacy seriously. Other than those already given limited permission, under no circumstance should anything that happens here today leave the room. I do not care if Legend himself tells you the world will end if you do not share what occurred here today. You tell him to talk to me, and I will deal with it. Full stop."
Serious.Will react violently to people using the information against her. No. Not violently. Murderously. Will kill. Has killed. No, has orchestrated for people to be killed. Then covered it up with further acts of violence, both regular people and capes. Unafraid of retribution. Will see it coming and counter it.
What. The. Fuck!
As if sensing her growing horror, Edition calmly met her eyes and the precognitive's lips quirked into a small smile.
Knows I know. Knows I won't say anything. Knows where I sleep. Knows I now know that she knows where I sleep.
Turning away from her, Edition stood up and made her way over to a large sectional couch that took up most the wall.
"Time?"
"4:50 am," Dodge replied promptly.
Sitting down on the couch, Edition fluffed a pillow and positioned it comfortably before reaching for something next to her.
Frowning, Tattletale found herself . . . extremely confused.
Edition was clearly grasping something in both her hands, but her power told her the same thing as her eyes.
Nothing there.
A stranger power maybe?
Nothing there.
And yet, Edition was interacting with . . . something. The girl's fingers were seemingly flipping between objects and her eyes were tracking back and forth as if...
Reading.
How odd.
"4:53 am," Dodge called out calmly.
With a deep breath, Edition nodded at the Tinker and laid her head down on the pillow. Glory Girl floated over, pinning her shoulders down while Panacea made her way over to her side, ready to intervene at a moment's notice.
Prepared. Briefed. Knew what their roles would be.
Sure enough, the other occupants of the room had not been idle as she observed Edition.
Strider had left the room
Next to the dimensional device. Power does not allow him to transit between dimensions.
Dodge stood next to a computer terminal. She could see the SAB website up and running, a pre-written announcement ready to be posted.
Plans to update the website with information as Edition can provide it.
Purity hovered in the center of the room, her eyes locked on the door.
Defense. Ordered to decimate anyone who comes through the door. Strider's power works within the pocket dimension, will not use door. No one cleared to enter the room. The door has Tinkertech locks. Can only be opened by Dodge. Ninth level of security.
Mouse Protector vanished, only to appear crouched near Edition. A moment later and she was back in her starting position.
Defense. Purity, energy-based attack. Mouse Protector, physical defense of Edition.
Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw something move. Turning, she only saw a pair of chairs next to a generic picture of a boat on a lake. Ignoring it, she started to make her way towards Edition, only for something to nag at the back of her head.
Turning back around, she paused. Again, she saw only two chairs and a picture of a boat on a lake.
Two chairs.
Picture of a boat on a lake.
Both perfectly fit the décor of the room.
She turned to face Edition, only for an incredibly unsettling feeling to strike her and she had the seemingly irresistible urge to look behind her.
Edition's commanding voice snapped her attention back to the situation at hand.
"Tattletale, get over here. Now."
Wiping at a bead of sweat that had run down her face, and her head feeling as if she had been using her power, Tattletale did as ordered.
"20 seconds," Dodge called out.
"You know why you are here."
Not a question.
She answered anyway.
"Yes."Anticipates being unable to communicate effectively. Needs someone to interpret her body language, poor speech, or other non-vocal methods to express her prediction."I can do it."
Edition tightened her grip on the unseen object before flipping and arranging it in some unfathomable order.
Nothing there.
Closing her eyes tightly, the Precog took a deep breath before raising the nothing in her hands to eye level.
"4. . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1."
Editionscreamed.
xxx-4-xxx
The Hero
Canberra, Australia. Feb. 24, 2011
Striding down the hall, the various emergency responders parted like the Red Sea before Moses. No matter how many times he experienced it, Legend found the near-reverence given to Eidolon, Alexandria, and himself at Endbringer fights to be somewhat undeserved. In his opinion, it was the capes that lacked a fraction of the power of the Triumvirate, but still showed up to fight that truly deserved the admiration.
The two security guards stationed outside the Australian Parliament's secure meeting room straightened sharply to attention upon seeing him, even as they double-checked his pass. Legend tried to express his sincere gratitude to them with his simple "thank you." The police, fire, and military units that had volunteered to remain in the city, in light of what they were told was coming, had earned the title of heroes today, powers or not.
A sharp buzzing of the Tinkertech doors unlocking allowed him entrance to their impromptu control center. He saw Alexandria speaking sharply to an Australian General in a corner while Eidolon stood over a large map of the city. Throughout the room, Thinkers were reviewing electronic documents on computers, holding phone calls with other Thinkers across the planet, or speaking to select members of the Australian Government. On the two main screens in the room, he saw a live image of the Simurgh and immediately next to it, the SAB "Announcements" page. Idly, he recognized the page had been updated since he last saw it.
The sound of the door closing behind him caused most of the people in the room to turn their attention to see who had just entered. Eidolon immediately broke off and made his way over to him while Alexandria nodded before going back to her conversation.
"Do you have an update?" Eidolon pressed eagerly.
Legend could see the budding tension in Eidolon's body language, along with the barely restrained anticipation his friend channeled in the time before Endbringer battles. "I do. Strider has reported in, along with a contingent from New Siam, Japan, and the CUI. Dragon has also finalized placing her experimental anti-Endbringer weaponry around the outskirts of the city. She's asked that we keep the sky clear of fliers when the Simurgh descends to let her have the first crack at her. "
While the green glow masked his expression, Legend could tell Eidolon didn't like that.
"Is she that confident in her tech?"
Shaking his head, Legend felt the need to defend the Tinker. "No, but she stressed using the shells after the Simurgh has reached the city could be devastating to Canberra, let alone the potential for friendly-fire incidents. It would also provide valuable data for the next attack." Doing his best not to think about what Hero could have done with this kind of preparation time, Legend gestured at the main monitor. "She's updated again?"
"Yes." Eidolon motioned for Legend to follow him and the two approached the large display. "Between Edition, our Thinkers here on the ground, and the help of the Australians, we believe we have her target designation."
Sure enough, the most recent update by Edition stressed a biological threat that the Simurgh would release by cannibalizing existing Tinkertech.
Well, calling it an update by Edition was hardly accurate. According to Strider, it was a Toybox representative who was updating the page while Panacea did her best to keep Edition from suffering what the healer had described as a "continual cardiovascular, muscular, and skeletal collapse." All the while a villainous Thinker from Brockton Bay had been brought in to translate Edition's agonized "gurgling," "screaming," and attempts to "write in her own blood" to get them what information they could. Said Thinker was also apparently on her absolute last legs, even after being dosed to the gills with some of Cranial's Tinkertech to keep going, and Strider had informed them not to expect any further updates.
Legend couldn't help but feel his own growing unease as the time of the attack began rapidly approaching. When Edition had updated SAB on the 22nd, stating that the "Server Maintenance" was a lie to buy her time in order to take the necessary steps to predict the Simurgh, the Protectorate, PRT, and every SAB Subscriber on the planet had erupted with questions. In truth, he couldn't think of another time in his entire heroic career when he had been busier.
Although to be fair, he still thought he came out better than Rebecca. While he had to directly oversee the interaction of the Protectorate with the larger international cape community, Rebecca Costa-Brown had to act as liaison to the world's political bodies.
Both his and the Protectorate's relationship with Edition and SAB could best be described as 'complicated,' but the chaos generated by her latest update had been unprecedented.
Legend still recalled the contentious discussions within the Protectorate and PRT after her first post on PHO. While the information the precog provided certainly helped avert legitimate catastrophes, once they realized she would refuse all calls to self-censor, a lot of capes, PRT Directors, and politicians became very nervous. In the weeks that passed, Legend had a hard time recalling a single day where either he or Rebecca did not receive a complaint from a foreign government or cape group about Edition.
But what could they do?
The very nature of Edition's powers made recruiting her extremely difficult. PRT psychologists and social Thinkers evaluated her as a strong candidate for paranoid personality disorder with massive control issues.
The precognitive had also revealed a truly vindictive side to her personality in her response to WEDGDG's threat assessment of her, banning the Thinker unit from all paid posts for a week, along with the promise of an outright ban if they made any future threat assessments of her. Unbeknownst to the rest of the Protectorate and the PRT, she had sent a direct message to his personalcivilianemail, promising "hellish retribution" at any attempt to execute a kill order on her. The girl's psychological condition almost certainly related to her trigger, but it presented a serious problem. Going forward, the Protectorate only had two options to deal with Edition: kill her or adapt to her.
Given what their Thinkers had revealed about the sheer damage she would likely do before a kill order could be implemented – the words "near societal collapse" were not bandied about lightly – the decision had been made to classify Edition as the first S-Class rated Thinker and to treat her much like they did the Sleeper. Monitor, but take absolutely no threatening actions.
Of course, that only took care of half the problem. While the Protectorate and PRT would rely on a live and let live approach, they could not control the actions of villains, let alone independent government bodies.
Oddly enough, SAB itself seemed to solve that issue. By giving villains and governments access to the information at reasonable rates, the most dangerous threats to Edition now had a vested interest in keeping her safe. A gentleman's understanding had effectively been created that so long as Edition played ball, no one would attempt to press-gang her, unless they wanted the rest of the SAB community to come down on them like the wrath of an angry God. Given that there were dozens of governments, spies, heroic teams, and extremely volatile villains on SAB, few were willing to test the community.
A couple had still tried, and examples had been made either publically by Edition – the Empire 88 and Gesellschaft – or quietly dealt with by others. He knew for a fact that Rebecca had quietly orchestrated the death of at least four members of the Teeth after they had been denied access.
No, in a little over a month, Edition and SAB had forced a major change to the daily life of capes and world culture. She might anger powerful people, but she was an equal opportunity aggravation, and the consensus of the world's elite had been that it was better to know the future and be occasionally frustrated than to be blind to it.
That still didn't mean he had to like dealing with Rook. He thought that portion of his life had been behind him after the thief finally took a hint and left New York almost a decade ago. Having to get PR advice from Glenn Chambers and briefing Chevalier and Rebecca aboutthatembarrassing piece of his personal history had been awful, but even that paled to Arthur discovering he was in 'extremely indirect communication' via a shared message board with the man.
However, as frustrating as dealing with Edition had proven, he knew his opinion of her would be changing in under an hour.
Everyone's would be.
When the post about the Endbringer had gone up – and after the initial hysteria passed – something incredible happened. Toybox opened up the new S-Class discussion forum and capes began to communicate about the attack. Slowly, over the course of a few hours, the SAB Subscribers reached an agreement. They would give Edition this one opportunity to prove herself, and the community would temporarily abide by the Endbringer truce. While the truce wouldn't cover everyone, they couldn't do that unless they decided to make the prediction public, SAB was comprised of a large number of powerful capes and official government bodies.
It hadn't been easy, and a lot of people were outright dismissive ofanyonebeing able to predict an Endbringer, let alone the Simurgh. Bastard Son had been the most vocal of objectors in the Protectorate controlled part of the world. Fortunately, the fallout from Assimilator's betrayal was still fresh in the minds of the Elite hierarchy, and Uppercrust, rallying the other heads, eventually forced his compliance.
The Protectorate Thinkers dedicated to analyzing the SAB discussion had described the community reaching the agreement as akin to viewing a pebble cause an avalanche in real time. The notion of the truce began with a few unaffiliated heroes, rogues, and villains in Chicago. Eventually, their conversation drew the attention of the local PRT Director and Myrddin. After Chicago came to an agreement, that launched a site-wide discussion between heroes and villains alike.
Eventually, a critical mass of SAB users agreed that the truce should be enforced and began pressing the others to agree. When it appeared certain groups would refuse, Dragon and Narwhal entered the discussion declaring The Guild accepted the truce and would be moving resources into Canberra. At that point, the Australian government put out a formal request for aid. Slowly, the remaining holdouts realized that even if they did not believe the truce should be active, the rest of the world would consider any of their actions a violation and begrudgingly fell into line.
Quietly, the Protectorate began maneuvering people into position. Thinkers assisted the Australian government create a cover story to evacuate Canberra. Officially, the city was under threat by a villainous Tinker who had manipulated the weather to create a 'Category 6 Typhoon,' scheduled to impact the city at the exact time Edition had posted the Simurgh would descend, allowing for a frightened, but the still orderly evacuation of the city.
For just a second, Legend let himself hope with all his heart that this was real. That all the good that had come from her prediction would not be in vain. Because if she was wrong, well, he wasn't sure they would ever manage this kind of agreement again.
Turning to face Eidolon, his planned question was cut off as one of the men nearby screamed. Snapping his head in the direction of the sound, he saw a pale-faced politician pointing at the screen showing the Simurgh, whose wings had unfolded. The Endbringer's unflinching gaze was locked directly onto their observation camera, and Legend believed in the very depths of his soul that the monster could somehow see them. That it knew they were preparing for her.
Stepping forward, Eidolon slowly rose into the air, an aura of purepoweremanating from the man as he stared unflinchingly back at the image of the Simurgh.
A challenge if Legend had ever seen one.
As the Endbringer began to move, Dragon's avatar replaced the image, and an all too familiar emergency alert echoed from everyone's phones.
"The Simurgh has begun her decent. This is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill."
xxx-5-xxx
The Bogeyman
Cauldron Base, Feb 25, 2011
"… so, while our Thinkers are chasing their own tails and the damage to Canberra was extensive, we recorded the lowest number of casualties since Behemoth's first encounter." Legend appeared exhausted, but extremely proud, emboldened even.
It was times like this - when the man's charisma and heroic nature shined so brightly - that she almost questioned if keeping him in the dark was the right decision. In a twisted way, her regrets were the only things that reminded her of her humanity. Someday, she feared keeping him out of the loop might prove to be one of her greatest. Not quite as heart-wrenching as Nicholas or Ciara, but close.
"The city will fully recover, and consensus amongst all participants was that this was, while not a clear victory, at the absolute worst, a draw."
"Do we attribute the success solely to preparation?" Alexandria pressed. Her unasked question hung in the air.Can we do better? If we are able to reliably predict the next location, can we win?
Legend gave the question serious contemplation before answering. "Yes. During the attack itself, I can pinpoint three places the advanced warning paid dramatic dividends. First, there was a psychological impact. By removing a large majority of the civilian population, few, if any, capes hesitated in utilizing their most devastating abilities. While we have always encouraged capes to go all out during Endbringer events, after Kyushu. . . . Well, it remained a conscious hurdle, particularly for locals. "
"I can think of a few power-sets that require several hours to adequately ramp up," David muttered, his voice carrying an air of excitement, even though he appeared deep in thought. "Abilities that I had long thought impractical due to the spontaneous nature of the attacks might now be brought to bear."
Everyone paused momentarily as they processed just whatthatmight mean before Legend decided to continue. "Secondly, logistics. With advanced notice, we were able to rally a greater number of capes and analyze possible targets. In this case, the Australians made us aware of several hard and soft targets the Simurgh might go after, including individuals and Tinkertech."
"Finally, having a window also grants our less frontline capable combatants time to fully make use of their powers. Thinkers and Tinkers will be invaluable going forward, which brings me to the elephant in the room."
Without missing a step, the doctor put an end to the discussion. "We will be having a larger debrief on Edition after we confirm her condition. Besides," casting her gaze over Paul and Rebecca, "I understand Legend and Chief Director Costa-Brown are to hold a joint press conference on the successful defense of Canberra in the next few hours."
Seeing the dismissal for what it was, both Legend and Alexandria stood and left the compound. When the path told her it was clear, she took her seat next to Number Man and turned her attention to her fellow monsters. Eidolon needed no prompting to bring up the subject.
"We need to better incorporate Edition into the fold. She is too valuable a resource to leave to her own devices. Do we know if her ability can predict Scion?"
She knew what his question really was.Can she help me?
Thousands of paths opened before her. Just as it did the first time she turned her thoughts to Edition. Unlike Scion, the Endbringers, or Eidolon, there was no fog preventing her from targeting the Thinker.
No, the problem with Edition was more frustrating.
Paths, steps, decisions. They flickered, one and all. Make choice A and Edition would take step B. Counter Step B, and Edition will take step C. All eventually manageable were it not for one thing.
Bing
Right on time.
"Shall I read it? Or do you already know what it says?" Number man asked, his eyes flicking to his email.
If her power had one flaw, it was that she had to physically act on it, and the intervening time between analyzing the impact of her steps and acting could alter its success. It was the same point of failure that had so weakened the first Entity. What's more, Edition would know at least 18 hours in advance that she chose to put her path into action, and she would take steps to frustrate her. Contingencies on top of contingencies that she would have to address before ultimately forcing her into making too difficult a choice.
She still remembered the moment she sought to bring Edition under Cauldron control. How Doormaker's portal opened, revealing a masked girl in pajamas with her finger hovering over a keyboard.
"I value my privacy, Contessa. I cannot beat you, but that does not mean I still cannot win. Leave me alone, and I will help you. Force my hand, and I will make you live to regret it."
Just like that moment, in her first life, with her uncle and the Entity.
A choice.
Recruit Edition into Cauldron or let Cauldron be exposed. To many steps, to many conflicting obligations.
She had wanted to be selfish. To wipe the smile off the girl's face.
But saving the world was more important than her pride, even her own humanity, and Cauldron was needed.
If they survived, maybe one day after Scion was long dead, when Cauldron was no longer necessary, she would find Edition.
And then they would see just who was the better Thinker.
The thought excited her in a way that made her uncomfortable. Had she grown so accustomed to being a monster?
Turning her gaze to the paths, she spent a moment observing them. Fantasizing.
She could contain Edition.
She could recruit Edition.
She could kill Edition.
She could even have Sleeper subsume Edition.
All it would cost would be a pile of corpses - thousands of useful capes, necessary capes, taken off the board – an inter-dimensional war, Siberian enraged, Jack Slash intrigued, and an army of Case 53s fueled by unyielding hatred.
But, she would win.
A pyrrhic victory.
She hoped the same would not be said for their inevitable clash with Scion.