Guardian 2.8
Friday, April 8th, 2011
Officer Berger looked over the signed papers one more time. "Looks good. I'll pass this onto David and he'll get you into the system. Then we'll just need to wait for requests to come in."
"Thanks," I said. I'd finished my independent hero registration with the PRT, picked up my new cape ID and a PRT issue phone. Now I had signed the PRT contractor papers under my cape name White Mage, which wasn't normally allowed—especially not by a minor, but the PRT was able to make exceptions for high value capes that wanted to stay anonymous.
I had to argue insistently on it and suggested that I wouldn't work with them if I was forced to unmask, and it took several days of back and forth before Officer Berger got the approval for it from his higher ups.
"By the way, Director Piggot would like to have a word with you," said Officer Berger as he filed the papers away.
"Right now?"
"She said whenever we're done here, which would be now, yes. But if you're feeling nervous you can take some time to prepare, no rush."
"No, that's fine. I'm ready."
He led me through the PRT building and we passed by a number of other PRT agents that waved and smiled at me, which I returned. I'd been through here a couple of times now, so some of the faces were getting familiar.
I hadn't yet seen any of the Wards or Protectorate though—not including the huge portraits of the Wards on the walls, but that wasn't too surprising considering that the Wards were only on the job part-time and they were probably in their own section of the building most of the time when they weren't out patrolling. And the Protectorate had their own base out in the rig.
When we got to a door with Director Piggot's name on the sign, Officer Berger pressed a button on the intercom.
"White Mage is here to see you, Director."
There was a moment before the door slid open, and Officer Berger gestured for me to go in.
"You aren't coming with me?" I asked him.
"No, it's just for you and the Director. Don't worry, you'll be fine. She just wants to get to know the city's newest hero a little," he said.
"Alright."
I went to the door to find not only a woman with a severe expression—that didn't bode well—sitting behind the desk on the far side of the room, but also Armsmaster standing in front and in the midst of walking to the side of the desk to face me.
"Come in, White Mage, we were just talking about you," said the director with a beckoning hand, when I had stopped without entering.
A quickly whispered good luck from Officer Berger later, I went in and stood at attention in front of the Director's desk. Armsmaster nodded to me in a greeting and said nothing else. I nodded back.
"No need to stand there, grab a seat." I followed the director's hand to the chairs that were set off to the side, and then took one and shifted it over to sit down. I glanced at Armsmaster who stayed standing, then turned back to the director to greet her.
"Hi," I said.
"Thank you for coming in, White Mage. I have heard a lot about you from Berger, but I make sure to meet with every new hero myself. Even the rogues, when they register with us. I think it's important to recognize and applaud when a cape chooses to remain on the right side of the law, even though it really should be the norm. Unfortunately, too many capes choose otherwise. Although it would have made my life a lot easier if you joined the Wards, nevertheless I applaud you for choosing to be a hero."
"Thanks. I did my research into it and seriously considered the Wards, but it just wasn't a fit for me."
"I won't push you given that you've clearly made up your mind, but for the sake of my curiosity, would you mind explaining your thought process? Your feedback could also help us improve the Wards program," said the director.
I took a moment to think about what to say. There was the real reason, which was that I didn't want the PRT to know the full scope of my powers, but for the same reason I obviously couldn't say that. There was also the fact that I didn't want to get into the social part of it, intruding on an established group and dealing with any drama. But that wasn't really a valid reason, it was just my hang ups from school. As a hero I should be above such things and be able to work professionally with anyone.
I'd really rather not say anything at all, but I probably had to give them something or it might raise suspicions.
"Sure. I have reasons that are personal in nature, that I don't really want to talk about. But there are definitely some issues with the Wards policies I couldn't work with. The big one being the restriction on running a side business. I know how valuable my power is, and I can make more money as a private contractor to the PRT instead of being on salary. I also plan to run a civilian business for my services. If I were a Ward, I wouldn't be able do these things."
The director kept an even gaze on me. "There isn't a rule against having a side business."
"But there is a requirement to get PRT approval for anything I do outside of the Wards. And the PRT would have full rights to ask me to use my powers, while I'd only get part-time minimum wage for it," I said. "I'd make weeks' worth of pay if I did the right treatment as a private contractor."
"So the money is the problem?" Armsmaster said, finally joining the conversation. "Do you have financial difficulties at home? We have special programs to assist with those situations."
That hit a little too close to home. I didn't like the tone he took, nor the disapproving expression on Director Piggot's face. Was that just pity, or did they think me selfish for want to make more money? Who were they to judge me, that I couldn't meet their lofty standards? I had perfectly legitimate reasons to need money and why shouldn't I get fair compensation for valuable services? So what if I did have financial difficulties at home? I would still need money even if that wasn't true. Though things would certainly be a lot easier for me if I was rich. I probably could have avoided that humiliating incident at the pawn shop. But if I confirmed it, they might be able to profile me, and figure out who I was that way or at least narrow it down. I tried not to let my annoyance show and responded as calmly as I could.
"That's not it," I said, my voice coming out a little more defensively than I'd intended. "I believe that I can do more good outside of the Wards, with access to more funding."
"How so?" asked Piggot. "What do you plan to do with the money?"
They really wanted to know huh? Fortunately, I was armed with talking points from online debates I'd researched over the rights of rogues and the virtues of free markets and the American private industry.
"By contributing to the economy, creating jobs, and paying taxes," I said. "Like any other business in this country. As for what I'm going to do with the money, I'll re-invest it to grow the business and build a sustainable competitive advantage."
"And what will you do after you achieve that? How much money is enough?"
Enough? It would never be enough. Life is an endless struggle for more.
"Enter new markets of course. Research and develop new products. How much money will it take to solve disease, war, and poverty? As long as there is life, there will be problems and for every problem, there's a solution to be innovated and economic value to be created."
She looked at me skeptically. "That's quite ambitious. And it's just a bonus that you'll get rich while doing good for the world?"
I shrugged. "It's a cycle. Wealth must be invested to create more wealth. That's just how things work in this country, isn't it? I have a power so I'll use it to get started, but that doesn't mean it's the only way to do things. How many career heroes have already tread that path?" I asked rhetorically, looking at Armsmaster. He opened his mouth to speak, but I continued over it.
"Yet here we are. Crime is rampant. The docks are still full of dead boats nobody wants to move. Every year, there are fewer and fewer good jobs. Businesses leave for better pastures. People are hungry and they get a little more desperate every day. So does that mean we should keep fighting against the villains for scraps like starved dogs? I say no. There are better ways to live. You can't expect to change the world without money, and not everyone who has it is willing to do what's necessary. But I will. Yes, we do need heroes, and I'll play my part in it. But protecting people from the villains is only a fraction of what needs to be done. As White Mage, I won't be satisfied with just healing a few people every day. I'm going to heal the city itself. And then the country, and the whole world."
In a slow and measured move, Piggot clasped her hands over each other to make a cup shape, leaning forward with a certain gleam in her eyes that suggested she was reassessing me.
"That is a well-thought and insightful platform. Better than I'd have expected from most kids your age. Maybe you'd have an interesting career in politics if you could give that kind of speech on a whim," she said.
I nearly blushed at the…backhand compliment? Was suggesting a career in politics meant to be an insult? Did she realize I was only giving her what I thought would be a good answer?
"I don't entirely agree with your assessment, but I will admit that too many capes focus on fighting the good fight, and do not think of how else powers may contribute to society. But there are practical reasons that rogues have not been successful in carving out an alternative path, and you probably know of them already. Even putting aside the sordid state of rogue regulation, It sometimes feels as though capes are naturally drawn to conflict. I ask myself this question all the time. Why do so many turn to villainy? Why do they think that's the best way to use their powers, even for their own profit? Is it because it seems easy? Are they just arrogant and too ambitious? Or does staying on the side of the law somehow seem too hard? I have found no clear answers, but I will wish you luck in finding another way," said Piggot.
"Thank you?" I said hesitantly. She sounded almost sympathetic.
She clicked her tongue. "You sound like you don't believe I mean it? Who do you think approved your request for an exemption to the standard identity disclosure rules for our contractors? Some years ago I supported an reform package called MIRIS that aimed to integrate and regulate rogue businesses with fair consideration for their special needs. Unfortunately that failed and instead we got NEPEA-5. But at least within the PRT I was able to help create the framework for our current rogue contracting policies which are more reasonable."
"Oh," I said lamely.
"You should know that outside of the PRT, things will be different. It will be nigh impossible for you to do what you want under the civilian rogue regulations. You certainly won't be able to stay anonymous. For example, you may find it fairly difficult to pay taxes for civilian businesses as you claim, because the IRS will only accept returns from legal persons, not cape pseudonyms. For PRT contractors, we can make a special election on your behalf to withhold a flat tax at the source instead. I approved of your request because you conducted yourself responsibly according to Berger's reports. You came to us first before you ever went out in costume, and haven't used your powers recklessly. You did this on your own, and I understand why you may not want to or can't get parental permission, even if I don't agree with it," she said, her eyes turning back to that severe expression that put me on guard earlier.
"Actually, I do have parental permission. That's not the reason I wanted to stay anonymous."
There was a pause as the director raised her eyebrow.
Armsmaster's voice cut in, reminding me that he was still in the room. "You're telling the truth." There was something in his tone that sounded like surprise. What convinced him suddenly? Regardless, I nodded to him in thanks for his support.
"I just don't want to become a target of the wrong kind of attention." Including from the PRT, I added only in my thoughts. "I don't want anyone trying to get to me through the people I care about."
"Well then, that's another sign of maturity that I don't see often," said Piggot. "I hope you will learn to trust us in time. That was an informative conversation, White Mage. I look forward to seeing what you may accomplish, and we will be ready to work you as long as you are willing to work with us."
I left the meeting without much of a chance to talk to the man who had once been my idol. Even just a year ago, I might've jumped at the chance to meet him in person. That modern knight in shining armor, who was the subject of various merchandise I'd acquired in my younger years, was the hero I aspired to be.
But he did not appear to save me and punish my bullies as I'd fantasized, and now I had powers of my own.
If I joined the Wards, I could have had a chance to work under him. He was the leader of the local Protectorate, and in charge of the Wards too.
I could still make that choice. But as I made my way out of the PRT building, through the lobby where I waved at the visitors that stopped to gawk at me, stepping out into the busy street, the sound of a high-pitched series of coos met my ears.
It was exuberant and comforting, filled with Life, the herald of a new beginning, descending from the skies.
I smiled as my little dove flew onto the back of my hand.
I did not have to be just a healer or a hero. I was a Wizard of White, and a ruler of Life. I was free to dream, to learn, to hold the light of creation in my hands.
Up until now, I had made sure to use only the [Heal] spell in front of other people, until I finished my hero registration and signed a contract with the PRT to be their supplier, so that they wouldn't be too wary of me before sealing the deal, hopefully having led them to assume I was a harmless healer. But now that was done with, I no longer needed to try sneaking around to get home in broad daylight.
The power of Life surrounded me, making a visible veil of pale light as I whispered a single word of power in a long lost language, casting one of the few spells that did not require any chant. This was supposed to be an Arcane and neutral magic, but apparently my mana was simply too colored with white, that it painted colorless spells white too.
"R̶͓̱̈́ĕ̸̳c̶̩̻̀̄ä̶͍͘l̴͖͇͌͊l̶̗̍."
From the ground up, my body faded away into light, transported back to my active Summoning Circle.
O O O