Was reading some of the Celestial Forge stories out there and thought of a different take. That and there was a reddit thread in r/WormFanfic about things readers hate - which led to three ideas of "Taylor wanting friends after Emma's rejection" - and a Taylor who isn't wrecked nearly so much.
* August 11 2009 *
Taylor sat on the playground swing, feet dragging on the ground, trying to come to terms with what had just happened.
Come back from that nature camp, ready to tell Emma all about what happened there, and Emma had started yelling. She had broken off the friendship.
Emma had been like a sister to her in everything but blood.
Her father hadn't recovered from her mother's death. Her best friend had just tossed their friendship away.
Now what? She looked up, seeing a falling star streak across the sky.
"I just wish... I had a friend. Someone who'd listen to me and stick around." Taylor felt the tears rising up in her eyes, turning everything blurry.
(Wish received. Checking availability.)
Taylor wiped her eyes and began looking around, not seeing anyone.
(Availability check passed. Fate check accepted. Analyzing wish.)
"Hello?" asked Taylor.
(Wish is for supportive friends. Analysis complete. Request passed on to local authority.)
"Is someone there?" asked Taylor.
(Local authority not found. Interference with local populace found. Passing on to multiversal branch thread authority.)
Taylor stopped looking around, noting the little ball of light that was hanging in the air in the precise manner a brick did not.
(Multiversal thread authority reached. Intervention is authorized, permit assigned #42-WLDBW209710403-E.)
"Uhm, what are you?" asked Taylor, moving to stand on the swing seat and reach up to tap the ball except she was entirely too short for that.
(Processing request. Permission granted temporarily per Apocalypse Protocol 7. Subject identified as Taylor Rose Hebert, age 13. World/cosm determined to be Earth-Bet in strand WLDBW2097.)
"Am I dreaming? Are you a cape?"
(Determining best means of granting Taylor Rose Hebert's wish. Doomsday Intervention Guidelines allows for considerable latitude in procedure per Apocalypse Protocol 7. Continuing to calculate.)
"So... you're like a fairy godmother?" asked Taylor.
(Closest approximation of role would be 'wish granting dragon' or perhaps 'genie' though not an exact match.)
"So... I can have a friend?" asked Taylor.
(Affirmative.)
Taylor thought about that. "What kind of friends?"
A silver key appeared on a lanyard in front of her.
(Build your own.)
Taylor picked it up and stared at the silver key, then back to the light ball. "Curiouser and curiouser."
(Disconnecting from reality strand. Good luck, Taylor Rose Hebert.)
* August 19 2009 *
"Taylor?" asked Danny Hebert, after finding the under-the-stairway cupboard door open and discovering a corridor that absolutely couldn't be there. Then he simply left the door open, checked the various walls that absolutely were supposed to be where they were. Then back to cupboard door with the corridor that shouldn't be there.
"Just a minute," called out Taylor.
Slapping himself in the face to determine if this was a dream, Danny Hebert then took a deep breath and entered the corridor. Four steps SHOULD have taken him outside the house. Not to another door. "Curiouser and curiouser."
"That's what I said," said Taylor from the other side of this partially-open door.
"If there's a table with a bottle that says 'Drink Me' I'm not sure what I'm going to do," admitted Danny Hebert.
"Oooh. Good thought. I'll have to try making one of those," said his daughter's voice.
Danny Hebert opened the door and saw a large room. Really large. Football stadium large. Not something that would normally fit on his block much less the space between his house and the next. A large machine ended in something that seemed like half a forge from some RenFaire and half something you'd see in a Star Trek movie where they had a really good budget.
"This is male parental unit named 'Danny Hebert'?" asked a large robot spider-thing.
"Yes, Tachikoma, that is my father," said Taylor as she worked something on the mechanism.
"'Tachikoma'?" asked Danny Hebert, finding a car-sized mechanical spider speaking in the voice of a child to be a little off-putting.
"Emma decided she didn't want to be friends anymore, so I started building friends," said Taylor brightly. "This is Tachikoma Blue!"
"Blue?" asked Danny Hebert, still trying to come to terms with everything.
"Blue is cool!" declared the Tachikoma. "I'm the studious bookworm type! Can I get hydrokinesis generators?"
"No, that's a long way away and would likely panic the weak-minded," answered Taylor. "So that's at least nine out of ten in government."
"I have taught you well, young padawan," said Danny, as dad humor was a perfectly acceptable way of dealing with major disruptions to his routine.
"What's a 'padawan'?" asked Blue.
"You're a padawan," said Taylor.
"I thought I was a Tachikoma," complained Blue.
"You are. You're also a student," said Taylor.
"Padawan means student?" asked Blue.
"It more properly means 'apprentice' to a Jedi," Danny informed the spider, though he was noting now that it had only six limbs. Two arm-like limbs and four legs that terminated in some sort of roller-ball "foot" kind of thing. So maybe "spider" wasn't the appropriate image.
Taylor took a part out of the forge-thing and carried it over to another machine. "This is going to be Red Tachikoma. He's the leader and action guy."
"Why is he the leader?" asked Blue. "I was first."
"You were first because I wanted the studious Blue Tachikoma to help me with some of the work," said Taylor as she began painting the armored leg joint.
"I can help! I'm a helper!" chirped Blue.
"Why do you even need giant mechanical spider-friends?" asked Danny Hebert, putting aside that his daughter was literally building friends. Taylor and her amazing Spider-Friends. Sounded like a cartoon or something.
"Everyone needs friends!" declared Blue.
* August 21, 2009 *
"Armsmaster Log 08312009:1000 hours.
"Repeated reports about robotic devices, possibly Tinkertech, operating at the Docks that do not match current known profiles for such. I was dispatched to investigate per protocols as a potential new Trigger that would need to be recruited.
"Arrival at the site allowed observation of nine such robots, interacting in a non-aggressive manner with personnel in the Dock area. Robots have only minor variations between units, coloration and additional functions in their arm assemblies being the primary differences.
"Very efficient designs. Sleek. Functional. Noted that potential weak points in design appear to be deliberate and allow for rapid switching of damaged parts.
"Robots are autonomous and capable of learning. Upon arrival was met by the blue one which appears to be equipped with sophisticated sensors. Robot identified itself as a Tachikoma and having the name or designation of 'Blue' and was able to answer several questions though it appeared easily distracted and made comments about efficiency of my power armor. Specifically why I used servomotors instead of artificial myomers and that if I were to utilize a fast-twitch system of superconducting nerves I would increase efficiency of deployment. I requested data on these artificial myomers, and I was assured the request for data would be forwarded onto their creator.
"Their creator was currently busy, but amenable to a scheduled meeting which I arranged at that time. As the Tachikoma was quite forthcoming with details within certain restrictions, this was deemed an acceptable delay to avoid becoming overly confrontational - which was listed as something I needed to address in a recent performance review.
"Tachikoma are six-limbed robots developed to be 'friends' and assistants per conversation with Blue. The nine available are known by their colors: Blue, Red, Gray, Yellow, Purple, White, Black, Orange, and Green. Red was observed using a welding torch and yellow had some sort of laser-based extension it was using to cut sections of metal scrap into smaller chunks.
"Tachikoma are six feet wide and fifteen feet in length. The four legs, when locked, provide excellent stability. Observed top speed was from the red one which was using all four roller-legs to traverse a parking lot at 35mph. Extremely high agility and fast response speed, avoiding a forklift and leaping a distance of twelve feet. Armored outer layer but surprisingly lightweight for their size based on observation. Materials used unknown.
"Conversation was recorded and forwarded to ThinkTank for potential analysis. Initial analysis indicates Trigger event was at least six months prior due to complexity of construction and the lack of signs of the usual gradual 'ramp up' found with Tinkers. Unable to determine Tinker specialization without more examples than the Tachikoma. Age of Tinker indeterminate but likely between 20-40 in years due to the clean design and efficient use of materials. Reference to Tinker as the Queen Mother also indicates maturity and that Tinker is likely female, though an argument broke out immediately after as apparently the Tinker has expressed dissatisfaction with that cape name.
"Requesting new Tinker be given the provisional codename of Constructor, and tentative classification as a Focal Tinker with semi-autonomous robots as their focus. No indication of out-of-control independence as with the Machine Army, though strict monitoring is recommended. A question about self-replication was answered with a negative, indicating that some parts are impossible for them to obtain without direct manufacture from the Tinker herself.
"I have requested that Dragon attempt followup questioning of the robots as her skills at programming might allow her greater insight as to the Tachikoma and potential dangers of these machines."
* Dragon *
She certainly had not expected to encounter another AI.
Much less nine of them.
They were also children. Or close enough in mindset. Learning, mostly happy, and capable of associating with the children of the Dockworkers without any indication that they were about to run amok.
"BIG SISTER!"
Also not something she had expected.
"You're here for the contest?! This'll be awesome!"
A robot dance contest? Nope, she hadn't seen this coming.
The song that had been playing when she'd arrived was started again. Various Dockworkers looking on, either clapping or stamping the beat?
"You got me running, going out of my mind.
"You got me thinking that I'm wasting my time."
A shuffling blue spider-robot. Who was actually pretty good at it.
"Don't bring me down. No, no, no, no, no. Ooh-ooh-hoo.
"I'll tell you once more, before I get off the floor.
"Don't bring me down."
This was all very very confusing.
* Toronto (temporary base) *
"What the hell?" asked Saint.
"Even the AI is confused," pointed out Mags.
"It's a plot to get us to lower our guard?" asked Saint, though even he sounded a bit uncertain.
"Is catchy. Good beat. Russian version sound better though."
"Not the point," said Saint. "This new Tinker is out to create a robot army!"
"That is currently having a dance-off to Electric Light Orchestra?" asked Mags, still trying to parse the situation.
Saint opened his mouth, closed it, then squinted at the screen as if that would reveal whatever sinister plan was involved.
Maybe the next song?
"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!
"There lived a certain man, in Russia long ago."
"Oh. Is 'Rasputin' - I like this one. Turn up please."
Saint and Mags both stared at Dobrynja briefly.
"Blue one has too many limbs to properly do Kozachok," commented the Russian Dragonslayer. "Is good attempt though. Give 6 out of 10."
* Docks *
David Casterberus watched the power armor deny that she was here to compete.
The armored hero made her way over to him. "I take it you're the Tinker?"
"Nope. Not a parahuman. Not a cape," David told her.
"How do you explain the arm then?" asked Dragon.
"E88 got my original one," said David, flexing his synthetic polymer prosthetic. "Girl does pretty good work, don't you think?"
"You lost your original arm to the Empire 88?" asked Dragon.
"Yeah, there's a few others around here who have gotten caught up in damn cape fights, wrong place and wrong time," said David, getting the idea that the cape wasn't going to just let him watch the dance-off. "Lucy over there got a replacement leg. Edgar over there got both legs but he's still relearning how to walk with the new ones. It's why he's still using that wheelchair."
Dragon looked at the two then turned her attention back to the artificial limb nearest her. "Why did she do it?"
"Because she's a nice girl and a friend of the Docks," said David. "You gonna make a fuss?"
"Not by choice," said Dragon after a pause. "However, that is Tinkertech and it may be decided that it's too dangerous to remain in the hands of untrained personnel."
"It's a prosthetic arm," noted David.
"Yes, but do you know how many government agencies need to evaluate products like that?" asked Dragon.
"It's custom-made, specifically for me," said David, beginning to get quite irritated and aware of others gathering around him now. "It's not something mass-produced and sold that needs that sorta thing."
Dragon went through her legal database quickly. "That it isn't sold does cut out a number of agencies, but I just wanted to let you know that there is a possibility that it would be seized as Tinkertech."
"It's not Tinkertech. It's entirely replicable technology that doesn't require extensive maintenance and does not grant any superhuman abilities by itself."
Dragon half-turned to scan the new arrival. Young. Very young. Thirteen, give or take a year either way, wearing glasses and a labcoat to give her a more "professional young scientist" vibe than might otherwise be obtained. The t-shirt stating "I made a chemistry joke but there was no reaction" certainly lent itself to that. "You're the Tinker?"
"I don't produce Tinkertech, so I don't think Tinker is properly defining what I do," said the very young girl.
Dragon was about to answer when she realized that at least three people had sniper positions on nearby buildings. Also the dance contest had stopped and there were nine Tachikoma who were watching her.
Well, this was a good reason for her to be doing a followup instead of Colin, wasn't it?
"If it's not Tinkertech, do you mind if I examine some? I might be able to smooth some potential legal problems," offered Dragon.
* August 28, 2009 *
"I thought you were going to Winslow to be with Emma?" asked Danny, re-reading the letter.
"That was before Emma decided we weren't friends anymore," replied Taylor. "Tachikoma Blue pointed out there wasn't any point in staying in Winslow. So I put in for a transfer. I thought it was too late, but apparently someone decided to make an exception."
"Huh. I wonder who?"
* Vancouver *
Dragon nodded to herself. Doctor Curlyhair didn't disguise herself very well, and with the gang presence at Winslow her attendance would have been... less than optimal. Having the paperwork go through with an 'expedited' tag was much less problematic than having a Tinker/Thinker forcibly recruited by a gang.
Most of her attention was on the synthetic limb she'd acquired. It was, in a word, fascinating.
The "generic left arm, female adult" was slender and looked clearly artificial. It had no weapons or armor, other than being of materials slightly tougher than normal flesh-and-blood. Artificial muscles and synthetic nerves, padding made of materials assembled on a nano-scale, bones made of honeycombed rigid carbon-fiber. The interface section itself gave her so many ideas, where the nerve signals from the body were taken in and interpreted then boosted and fed to the appropriate sections?
Doctor Curlyhair had given her some documentation, which after being security scanned, had shown less developed versions that had been considered and ultimately discarded as less desirable.
They were replicable without access to nanotech though, so those were also of considerable interest.
* September 9 2009 *
* PRT ENE HQ, Director's Office *
"Meeting is later today, so a quick briefing before those of you leave for the Docks at... when was it?" asked Director Piggot.
"10:35," said Armsmaster.
"Dragon. Summarize what you learned from your examination of the prosthetic," said Director Piggot, grimacing for a moment as she sat back in her chair.
"Self-contained. Batteries can be recharged through a standard USB connector," said Dragon, putting a rotating image of an artificial arm on the main display. "Battery is under investigation and is high efficiency and capable of rapid recharge. Skin is metallic-looking but functions much like real skin and is a polymer material. Like skin, it protects the inner mechanisms and contains pressure and heat sensors. The synthetic material below that flexes like ballistic gel which the inner epidermal layer resembles. Below that is a layer of the artificial myomer material. Artificial muscle fiber if you prefer. Restricted to normal human strength levels for safety reasons. Under that is a system of flexible artificial nerves which connects everything. There's a ring arrangement that fits on the person that relays things to the artificial limb and back again. Finally there's synthetic bone and connective tissues that mimic human flesh and bone and is tailored to exactly fit the natural human parts. Each is therefore custom-made and fit to the individual."
"The limbs can be disconnected then?" asked Armsmaster.
"Not normally, no. There's an emergency disconnect, but that only becomes accessible if the limb is severely damaged." Dragon indicated the mounting ring that would be permanently connected to the patient and the limb's mounting edge. "The materials involved are quite advanced but I've worked out the basics since I had a sample to work with. The battery and the artificial skin are both potentially quite useful for other purposes, mass production is currently a sticking point as they require very precise steps."
"So the materials themselves are not Tinkertech?" asked Director Piggot.
"No. The process used to produce them might be, but Doctor Curlyhair was very reluctant to show me her workshop. As most Tinkers are, but I have considered and she is more likely a Thinker with a Shaker ability that synergizes well with that." Dragon brought up an image of 'Doctor Curlyhair' in her little labcoat and safety gear.
"Damn she's young," commented Assault. "Twelve?"
"Close," said Dragon. "And before anyone asks, I would recommend not putting her in the Wards."
"But she's too young to join any adult group, including the ThinkTank," pointed out Battery.
"She's a Thinker, tentatively a Proficiency sub-type, where she works out how to develop technology based on whatever need she perceives at the moment," said Dragon. "She worked out the prosthetic technology when she noticed some of the dockworkers had lost limbs from being unable to evacuate from cape battles quickly enough."
"So why does that mean she shouldn't join the Wards?" asked Battery, pursuing her point.
"What would she do if she was in the Wards?" asked Assault, glancing at his partner.
"Stay safe," responded Battery.
"Safe. Not doing anything. PR events. Wearing a costume. Going out on mandated patrols despite a lack of combat abilities herself. We'd be better recruiting a Tachikoma or two," explained Dragon. "Her ability to develop technology is too potentially valuable to lock her away."
"If her power is developing technology in response to problems, what are the Tachikomas in response to?" asked Armsmaster.
"She confessed that she didn't have friends," admitted Dragon. "So she built them."
"So what else can she do besides robot spiders and prosthetic arms and legs?" asked Battery.
"That is something I hope to explore more thoroughly," answered Dragon.
"If her Thinker ability is working out technology, what was the Shaker ability you spoke of in your written report?" asked Director Piggot. Honestly, if a cape was out there trying to fix society's problems by means other than shooting or punching it - this sounded like something to encourage to her at least.
"She's producing the parts somehow, despite having no access to the materials she should require for such," said Dragon, bringing up a base materials analysis of the arm. "These components are stable and show signs of manufacture, but the rare earths and other materials used could normally be traced."
"And there is no such trace?" asked Director Piggot.
"None," said Dragon.
* Taylor's Workshop *
(BOINK!) went a little sound-effect somewhere.
"What was that?" asked Danny Hebert.
"Scientific progress goes 'boink'," said Taylor.
"I thought that was 'ding'," noted Danny.
"It was until Green backed up into the bell," continued Taylor.
"Ah, that explains that," agreed Danny. "You're making something to take to the meeting?"
"Well, sort of," admitted Taylor. "I wanted to make an impression."
"The Tachikoma aren't enough?" asked Danny Hebert, raising an eyebrow.
"Tachikoma are all busy doing things," said Taylor as she went down the corridor to her automated factory. "THIS on the other hand."
"What exactly am I looking at?" asked Danny as he watched the pieces being fitted together.
"Your truck," said Taylor proudly.
"That's a new truck," said Danny. "My truck is an old, dented, hunter green, 1979 Ford F-150. It mostly looks like it, but that looks brand new."
"I fixed it," said Taylor, still proud. "Had to make all new parts. Upgraded materials. Added a flight system. Auto-pilot. Inboard communication system."
"You made my truck flight-capable," said Danny Hebert, staring at the truck.
"Added fire-suppression, a force field generator," continued Taylor, ticking off features on her fingers. "Had to reinforce the frame of course, and there wasn't room for the pop-up turret if you wanted to still be able to use the truck bed to haul stuff."
"A what?" asked Danny Hebert.
"But I did manage to add smoke projectors in the rear," said Taylor. "Oh, and I put in ejector seats and an anti-theft system! Be sure to get everyone you want to be able to drive your truck scanned so they don't set it off."
Danny sighed. So this was what it was like to have a daughter who meant well but had no idea how much history was in each dent and patched over spot.
"I wanted to have it transform into power armor but I couldn't figure out how to do that and have the drink holders not spill everything everywhere," confessed Taylor.
"I could see where that would be a problem," admitted Danny.
* Later *
"Here's the list of FAA rules your truck breaks," said Deputy Director Renick, handing over a sheaf of papers. "Also, you aren't licensed as a mechanic, the DMV paperwork wasn't filed, and ejector seats as part of an anti-theft measure would constitute as a trap - and are illegal."
"So that's why after all these years and Tinkers, we don't have flying cars," mused Danny Hebert aloud.
"It's a lot more common than you'd think that someone tries to make those," admitted the Deputy Director. "The paperwork involved usually causes the project to crash and burn faster than bad Tinkertech would."
"What about giant warmachines?" asked Taylor.
"Oh, that's much simpler," the Deputy Director said. "Less than 10% of the paperwork and fees but it's the ATF and FBI that are usually involved with that, as well as the PRT of course. Also requires inspections by the DMV if it's drivable and the FAA if it can fly. Waivers exist for 'Emergency Use Only' robot vehicles."
"So I could field a battlemech in an Endbringer fight but not equip an ambulance for flights," noted Taylor.
"Oh, you can do that in Alaska and Canada if it's an ambulance and then the company using it has to get the vehicle checked out," said Deputy Director Renick. "Protectorate and Guild capes usually get expedited on the paperwork too."
"So if I, theoretically, had a giant robot capable of fighting Endbringers, I'd have to get it inspected and licensed prior to bringing it to an Endbringer fight?" asked Taylor.
"You're underage," pointed out Renick. "You wouldn't be allowed to drive such a thing. You might get a trainee permit but you'd need an adult to be present."
"Not that you're doing any Endbringer fights," said Danny Hebert with a warning look to his daughter.
"Not even to bring the Tachikoma for Search & Rescue?" asked Taylor.
"You can send the Tachikoma to an Endbringer fight," countered Danny. "Doesn't mean you have to go with them."
"But what about HIM," asked Taylor.
"Dragon can pilot HIM," said Danny. "You're fourteen. Going anywhere near an Endbringer fight is not permitted."
"Uhm," interrupted a speaker nearby. "Who's 'him'?"
"He's not coming out without me there to summon him," pointed out Taylor.
* Norton Test Facility *
* September 12, 2009 *
Taylor stood out on the range, her hair blowing around, as she wondered exactly how things had gotten so odd. She'd just wanted friends. Now here she was with a whole lot of skeptical people with instruments smirking at her.
"Well, anytime you're ready, RoboQueen."
And, just for the record, she hated that codename.
"Big O! Showtime!"
The rotating circle of squiggles written in a language she didn't know, only that it was a language and that it was basically a program written on the substance of reality. (Explaining that had gotten actual scoffing from Armsmaster and several of the scientists involved. The only one that hadn't rolled their eyes was Dragon who had given the comment about interesting theories.)
Rising up out of the circle was a mecha. 98 meters tall. Weight... a lot. She didn't even want to estimate.
She stepped into the hand as it rose, eventually stepping into the neck which shut behind her.
After sitting in the seat, she took the controls, and Big O rumbled to full life.
* Contessa *
Path to Stopping Big O: 3 steps. Ending with a bullet to the back of the head of Taylor Hebert.
Path to Getting Taylor Hebert to cooperate with Cauldron: 6 steps. Step One: Treat her like Legend. Don't mention a lot of their activities, just their end goal of saving the world.
Path to Getting Big O without Taylor Hebert: Path not found.
Contessa watched the giant robot clump around the island and listened to the radio chatter. Missiles. Rocket chains. Internal fusion engine. Weapon systems with names like Arc Line, Chrome Buster, O Thunder, and Sudden Impact.
"Door me."
"Well?" asked Alexandria.
"Confirmed, Taylor Hebert has the ability to construct Synthetic Intelligences as part of her ability to 'have friends' and the current model is something called 'Big O' for whatever reason. It is too slow to battle Leviathan and not shielded enough to fight Behemoth. As a weapons platform standing in defense of a city, it might have some value though. If she becomes a problem, all it would take is a single bullet to remove her."
"Can we duplicate the technology?" asked Doctor Mother. "Or is it typical Tinker work unlike the Tachikoma?"
"We'll have to wait on the analysis as they are testing it now," said Contessa. "In the meantime, I have other paths to maintain."
* Dragon *
She had said she could summon a giant robot for Endbringer fights. There had been considerable skepticism.
A 100-foot tall giant robot vehicle standing on the test range had most of the skeptics go completely quiet and trying not to call attention to themselves. Considering that some of them had been completely condescending to the fourteen year old girl who was IN that very robot, that was quite understandable.
"We need to seize that," one of those former skeptics was now saying. "We can back-engineer it. Put people we trust in charge of it. Make something less goofy-looking at the very least."
"It is completely unacceptable that a child that age has a gun," offered another. "Much less that many."
"Wouldn't be sufficient to damage an Endbringer," put in a third.
"You do realize that she probably has sensors to allow her to hear you," noted Dragon aloud. If she had ever built a ridiculously big robot vehicle she would have such systems after all.
The giant robot vehicle partly turned towards Dragon and gave her a thumb's up.
The scientists all went quiet again.
Dragon decided to add something. "She saw a design and wants to build an even bigger one called 'Giant Robo' but I talked her out of it."
Slight relaxation from two of the scientists.
"Instead she's designing something called 'Patrol Labors' or 'Patlabors' for PRT use. Should be quite helpful."
* Empire 88 *
"We should invite this Tinker to consider the benefits of joining the Empire," said Krieg.
"You mean the Tinker that has the gorram Triumvirate stopping by to check out her stuff?" asked Hookwolf.
"If it's good enough for them, it's good enough for us," said Krieg.
Kaiser cleared his throat. "No, we're not going to recruit her because the Guild is interested in her, the PRT is definitely interested in her, the Triumvirate could come down on us, and because she's not a Tinker."
"Wait. What?" asked Krieg, thrown a bit off by the unexpected declaration.
"She's barely fourteen," said Kaiser. "And she's a Thinker/Shaker according to what our spies among the PRT can tell us. Tinkers come up with technology that requires a Tinker to maintain it and it generally makes damn little sense to engineers who try to work on the stuff. My spies have already managed to forward on some of the MSDS on some of the little things she's producing."
"Em-Es?" asked Hookwolf.
"MSDS. Material Safety Data Sheets," supplied Victor. "Legal requirement for handling materials. What kind of stuff she got?"
"Cheap insulation, impact-absorbing gel, wiring that is close to superconductive, honeycombed armor that's stronger than a solid plate," said Kaiser. "Right now, 'Doctor Curlyhair' stands to bring a considerable amount of money into the Bay. What happens when lots of money gets into circulation."
"We get our share," said Krieg.
"I've heard they've got some kind of construction 'labors' they're building down there," said Victor. "I can swing by and see if there are skills I can grab."
"Quietly. And if 'Doctor Curlyhair' happens to have skills to match her Thinker abilities - get a handle on those as well."
* September 14, 2009 *
"Mistah Jack?"
"Hmmm?"
"Didja see the giant robot on that news report?"
"That clunky, overlarge, slow-as-hell machine? What about it?"
"I was just expecting you to talk about it, seems like the kinda thing you'd be interested in."
"According to the news report she's just a Thinker who works with technology and isn't even as good as you are, my dear."
"Oh."
"Even Mannequin is ignoring her since that not-a-Tinker thing came out," said Jack Slash absently, his thoughts mainly about getting a really well-cooked steak. And some of those thick seasoned fries. Damn those had been good. It was a pity their MO didn't allow them to leave people alive/uncrippled behind because that guy had been a damn good cook and good food was one of the things he did enjoy. Maybe the next town would have a decent meal.
"I guess..." said Bonesaw.
"Oooh, they've got little pudding cups, I do like me those little pudding cups," said Jack Slash as he opened the refrigerator in the convenience store and grabbed a bunch.
"Just keep them away from Crawler," noted Bonesaw, making a face. "When he gets gas..."
"It'll be our secret," said Jack with a solemn nod as he walked past what used to be the cashier and grabbed a bag for his various supplies.
Lung considered the video before dismissing it as of little consequence.
The PRT had some new technology that was still insufficient to deal with him. The rank-and-file might be inconvenienced but such was their lot in life.
He WAS mildly intrigued by the design and the presence of a giant robot such as might have graced the television of his long past youth. Yet he was an adult with adult concerns, and the nostalgia of a simpler time and concerns was beneath him.
Now if it had been a Gundam or something swifter and more agile? Still of little consequence to him, but it could have factored into his operations.
"Great Lung," said one of his flunkies, entering the room and kneeling. "Li Ling spotted Victor from the Empire entering the Docks area."
Lung blinked. The Empire was making a move? Li Ling. Li Ling. That name... Ah. Girl used as a spotter. Notable in that she seemed quite clever and played traditional Chinese instruments as a street busker. "Well done. Have someone track him at a distance without letting him know he is being followed. Best to use several someones you can rotate out as he seems quite aware of his surroundings. If his position can be betrayed to authorities at some point - do so. They can do the work."
"As you say, Great Lung."
* September 15, 2009 *
* Tuesday 1500 hours *
Victor's power was Skill Theft. He was constantly doing a slight drain on the people around him, and therefore the people he liked he tended to not spend so much time around in person. Othala, his wife, had a tendency to get "fuzzy brained" from time to time because he couldn't exactly avoid her after all.
He had briefly picked up a familiarity with Chinese musical instruments, but there had been one of those street performers with a donation box on that corner.
He was getting flickers of other skills, just enough to be impressions on him, of other talents. This was entirely normal for him, and none of the skills were anything he didn't already have better versions of. Or would want anyway. Perfect hospital bed corners? What kind of skill was THAT?
Knitting? He hadn't known that there was anyone in this area who knitted. Wasn't exactly fitting the whole Asiatic-superiority thing these degenerates usually put forward.
Kite-flying? No. Battle kite flying? Huh. That looked kind of fun actually.
There. Abandoned warehouse, fire escape where he could reach it, spot on the roof with partial concealment.
Now he'd just settle in, use binoculars for anything interesting, then get in range for his power to work.
* PRT ENE HQ *
"You have reached Armsmaster. Unfortunately, all lines are busy at the moment. For efficiency's sake, please listen to the following options to be sorted into the proper queue..."
"Zero."
"Please stand by."
"Console. This is Vista, can I help you?"
"When did Armsmaster put a phone tree into place?"
"Since he started a project that involves pretty volatile explosives actually. Is this the Deputy Director?"
"Yes. WHY is he working with 'pretty volatile' explosives?"
"Countermeasures if Doctor Curlyhair turns evil. Don't tell her though. He had the feeling if she knew we had plans and measures in place to kill all of her friends and turn the Docks into a smoking ruin, she might get emotional about that."
"Hmmm. I'll speak to him later. AFTER he's no longer handling explosives. We just received a phone tip that the E88 is active near Doctor Curlyhair's lair."
"Ouch. Well, I don't want to interrupt him. Maybe I should zip down and..."
"You're on Console duty."
"...but..."
"I wanted to get Armsmaster heading out. Since he's not available, I'll just send-"
"Me!"
"Console duty."
"I can do it and be back in no time!"
"Vista, no."
"Seriously, it's line of sight from the roof. I can zip over there in no time at all."
"Vista, no."
"Can I at least go to the roof and link the roof to the Docks so whoever you send can get there fast?"
"Vista."
(grumble grumble)"...never get any fun..." (grumble mutter)
"Vista, no."
(Click, dial.)
"Chunky Cheese! Brie a loyal customer and we'll go to the edam the Earth for you."
"Don't steal lines from Mouse Protector, Assault. I need someone to make a run to the Docks."
"Doctor Curlyhair?"
"Yes. A report that the Empire may be surveying her area. Need to let her know."
"Got it. If I get an awesome motorcycle or giant robot out of her, can I keep it?"
"After it goes through testing, if she just happens to have something like that around? Sure."
"Gotcha. On my way." (click)
"Why do I have a sudden feeling of imminent disaster?"
* Assault *
The trip to the Docks wasn't eventful. For which he was grateful.
The idea had been to be circumspect. While he usually did loud and making an grand entry, he could do lower key no problem.
Normal clothing with two Troopers he knew he could work with. Discreet.
So, not a Transport, one of the large armored vehicles that was typically deployed. An armored van, with the little green and white bobbles turned off but retaining the PRT logo on the sides? Also too obvious. They had other vans though. Some with logos for legitimate businesses operating in the area such as Market Basket supermarkets.
Seeing a van for a grocery store on the streets was normal, heading to the Docks area was a little more unusual but not especially noteworthy.
They didn't take the one for Hal's Electric because that particular one was already stationed elsewhere on a surveillance.
So, the two Troopers. Azad Simmons, a driver who tended to blend into the background even when he wasn't in uniform. Cynthia Moore, former Infantryman in the US Army, currently a Trooper on medical light-duty while adapting to injuries taken in an ABB shootout.
Which would be the obvious excuse for anyone watching with, for example, a long-range sniper scope. The chance that the Empire spotted in the area had such was deemed pretty high.
Admittedly, most didn't have "Weird Al" playlists, but Assault considered his version of "Gorky Park" to make more sense than the original and was more applicable to dealing with Tinkers.
"Okay," said Assault as they drove in, stopping at the security checkpoint. "Afternoon."
"Something up?" asked the gate guard, apparently recognizing him as he WAS in costume as soon as he leaned forward into full view.
"Need to pass a message on, and can't reach Doctor Curlyhair. Has she chosen another name yet?" asked Assault.
"Not yet, she's gone through a couple today and ended up rejecting them after an hour or so," said the guard.
"Keep an eye out, heard there's some possible difficulties might be scouting out the place," said Assault.
"You know the way to the main office?" asked the guard.
"Yeah, straight ahead, take the left, blue trailer, use the 'visitor' parking spot," answered Assault.
"You got it," said the guard, raising the barrier and lowering the pillars that had blocked the drive in.
"He seemed to catch on pretty quick," said Assault, lowering back to where he was concealed from casual view again.
Simmons snorted. "They probably knew you were here and were watching for the past two blocks at least."
"Three," said Moore. "I spotted Tachikoma Green in a window on the second floor of that gutted electronics shop."
"I like Green," said Simmons. "Bit of a military fanboy, but that's at least something to talk about."
"You've met the Tachikoma?" asked Assault.
"Yeah, a couple of them anyway, also one of the androids," replied Simmons. "And one of the cyborgs, that one was at the Captain's Table - that bar that looks like it was built back in the 1800s or earlier? Heard he was a regular."
"'Androids'?" asked Assault.
"They're new. Last couple of days," supplied Moore. "I think they're still trying to get data on them before putting out official statements."
* Danny Hebert *
He was quite aware that despite the jokes (mainly bad) and carefree attitude, that Assault was a member of the Protectorate and was most likely recording everything for later analysis. Though where the camera was - he hadn't been able to spot an obvious one.
"Doctor, visitor," Danny called out at the entry to her area.
"Can you bring them in? I'm working on something," replied Taylor's voice.
"Don't touch anything," cautioned Danny. "Tinker workshop."
"Cool, I get to be the first to see the mysterious workshop of Doctor Curlyhair." (crakaboom) "Wait. Did she make a machine that produces dramatic thunder when her name is spoken?"
"Teenagers," said Danny in the manner of a long-suffering parent. "At least I got her to restrict it to her workshop."
"Entering now, Doctor Curlyhair," said Assault. He grinned at the ensuing (crakaboom) as it sounded again.
"Well at least she ditched the extra-long cape with Auto-Billowing mechanism," said Danny with the long-suffering voice again. "She kept getting wrapped up or tripping over it."
"Teenagers, I hear you," said Assault.
* September 17, 2009 *
* PRT ENE HQ *
"First cyborgs. Now ANDROIDS?!" demanded Director Tagg on the video conference.
"Technically they're 'gynoids' not 'androids'," commented Director Wilson.
"What's the difference?" asked Director Armstrong from the NYC Branch.
"Androids are male, gynoids are female," said Director Wilson. "All these artificial humans are female." There was a click and the image of one appeared in the conference.
Tagg blinked. "Why is it wearing form-fitting armor?"
"a href=" pin/506373551867078104/"Athena/a here is being evaluated in my department," said Director Wilson. "She's a Valkyrie-class gynoid. Power testing so far gives her a Brute-2 rating as far as strength and durability goes. Striker-1 for the use of her spear which has a taser setting and can be outfitted for firing containment foam grenades."
"You're evaluating robot girls..." Tagg stared for a moment at the picture of the gynoid and then at Director Wilson. "I take it you are making sure it can't self-replicate?"
"They can't self-replicate," said Director Wilson. "Also I'm making sure she knows she's not allowed to date."
"...what?" asked Tagg, plopping back down into his seat and looking genuinely lost.
Chief Director Costa-Brown cleared her throat before speaking into the silence left behind as everyone contemplated that answer and its implications. "Am I to understand that they can't SELF-replicate but can possibly... replicate with... assistance?"
"We have an OB-GYN on staff who informs me that based on what we see with Athena they are anatomically correct, with synthetic tissue, and we are reluctant to explore too much along that line," said Director Wilson. "Though when the subject was brought up in front of her, she seemed to find the idea intriguing. Her statement though was that she was 'not ready to explore that avenue of existence' or the philosophical questions that might provoke."
"There are no androids, only gynoids?" asked the Chief Director.
"Yes, apparently the synthetic tissue is based on Doctor Curlyhair's own tissue, so in a philosophical and emotional sense, these are her daughters, made specifically to assist humanity," said Director Wilson. "That is one of the sticking points actually. Athena is reluctant to hurt humans, even in theoretical situations where one must be harmed in order to save other humans."
Director Hearthrow cleared his throat. "I don't believe a reluctance to harm others is necessarily a bad thing."
* Vancouver *
"What?" asked Saint.
"Wait. Wait. Is time out, da?" Mischa, aka Dobrynja, held his hands out to make a "T" shape. "If human and gynoid can make child... is gynoid..."
"Still an inhuman monster!" said Saint.
"...like original Little Mermaid story?" said Mischa, glaring at Saint for the interruption. "Is longing for a soul so is capable of wanting to be human? Except instead of sea foam, ultimate fate is recycle bin?"
"I..." Saint stopped, started to say something, stopped again, then started rubbing his forehead. "I think... there's a little kid who needs to have her toys taken away from her. One way or the other."
* PRT ENE HQ *
"On the upside, we have this," said Director Piggot as she toggled a couple of pictures of her own into the video chat.
Chief Director Costa-Brown leaned closer. "Doctor Curlyhair's workshop, I take it?"
Director Piggot nodded. "As we expected, it is in an extradimensional space. Assault was visiting and wearing his badge-camera. She has a device which breaks down any material and reconstructs it within certain parameters. She cannot change non-metals to metals for example. She can, however, provide samples of materials that we're still figuring out how to replicate. Maximum size of each piece produced is six by three by three, based on the nanoforge's own size. There are two smaller devices, one foot square and one inch square for more detailed work."
"Nanotech?" asked Director Wilson.
"Operating theory is that this is a form of non-replicating nanotechnology in a vat that breaks down the materials down to the subatomic level and then can rebuild it to specification," said Director Piggot. "The computers there are obviously acquired from other sources, most are at least ten years old and heavily modified. Armsmaster's analysis is that she also had to heavily modify several CAD programs which then tell the nanites what the end result is to be."
"Nanotechnology? Why haven't you shut this Tinker down yet?" demanded Director Tagg.
"Because there is absolutely zero sign that containment has been breeched so far, and she's likely been active since early August at the latest." Director Piggot made a sour expression as she replied to Director Tagg. "Dragon suspected something like this just from the bionic arm she's been examining. 'It is, in essence if not precisely, how a Star Trek replicator might function without teleportation magic doohickeys.' That was Dragon's summation of the same device. If there should be any sign that there IS a nanite breech, we are acquiring plasma and EMP missiles to bring down on the Docks area. As that would end with a massive number of casualties and a large crater - we are only doing that if a clear loss of containment occurs."
"Dragon?" asked Chief Director Costa-Brown.
"You see in this video file," said Dragon's voice, "pieces being removed from the vat. Note the shimmer in the air as the part is raised up out of the vat? That's a concentrated stream of inert particles falling off the part and re-entering the vat."
"So she can put pieces of junked cars in there and pull out fabricated parts to her own specification?" mused the Chief Director. "No wonder she's been able to build a number of robots including that big one in a month's time."
"Doctor Curlyhair is still showing considerable knowledge of a wide range of skills needed to make things, so her Thinker rating is being upgraded," said Director Piggot. "Some sort of fast-learning and heightened intelligence is the best guess so far."
"If she comes up with something more powerful than 'Big O' notify me immediately," said the Chief Director. "Director Armstrong - any more developments with Valkyrie Athena, send me updates. Director Armstrong? What about this new cape in your report?"
* Docks *
Victoria Dallon, aka Glory Girl, went over the Docks and did something that some would say was completely out of character for her.
She saw robots trundling around the area, as she'd heard mentioned at school and on PHO, and she simply watched to see if the rumor was true or if this was a robot invasion to doom the city.
Mainly she was being cautious because it was Void Cowboy talking about robot uprisings and she didn't want to be seen agreeing with that particular person if it was at all avoidable.
She just floated there, watching. The obvious robots were more ants than spiders, she thought. Six limbs after all.
Unlike what most people expected. Glory Girl simply floated down and made the acquaintance of the robots.
She did not, however, expect the karaoke contest or party that developed.
* Several hours later *
Amy stared at her sister.
Carol stared at her daughter.
Mark debated getting up and investigating, eventually deciding that it was too much effort.
"Apparently Tachikoma Purple likes to make things made of cloth and that sorta stuff," said Vicky. "So this one's for you, Amy."
Amy took the jacket and figured it was going to be a little large for her. Didn't look bad though.
"A robot made these?" asked Carol, holding a throw pillow emblazoned with "Brandish" on it.
"Yeah, Purple makes bedrolls and blankets and stuff too," said Vicky, holding up a towel that used her costume colors.
"I'm not sure we should be associating with a group of robots," stated Carol Dallon.
* PRT ENE HQ *
* October 11 2009 *
"Assault. Front desk just called. Your patrol labor is here."
Assault was up from the cafeteria table and out the door so quickly that Armsmaster was still trying to figure out what that meant while Assault was halfway to the elevator.
"Oh dear, this does not bode well," said Miss Militia.
Then, outside the PRT HQ, she felt her initial feeling of incipient difficulties was entirely justified.
(VRRT-CH-CH-CH-CLUNK!)
"That will have to be thoroughly gone over and examined," declared Armsmaster.
Miss Militia glanced at her fellow Protectorate as he'd not even attempted to conceal the eagerness in his voice.
Assault was visible in the section between the robot's head and torso as he lowered some kind of transparent barrier into place.
"Loudspeaker? Oh cool, everything's got labels," said Assault's voice. "Lights. Oh. So the first switch is a spotlight, the second switch is for the pursuit lights, third is warning lights, and fourth... makes the eyes pulse red?"
"The inventor is thirteen after all, one should expect a few inefficiencies," noted Armsmaster.
"This is called a 'type MPL-97S Python' according to the documentation here," said Assault. "'Modified for transforming for deployment' and 'ease of use'. Let's see. It's in 'patrol mode' according to the manual. I can switch to transport mode by..."
(VRRT-CH-CH-CH-CLUNK!)
"Well, that's disappointing. Folds up into a wheeled box. Not a proper transformer at all," complained Assault as he left the vehicle. "I wanted it to turn into a Ferrari."
"How did you get a robot vehicle?" asked Miss Militia.
"I asked for one. Pointed out that if she's going to market them, having an example out there would be advertising." Assault shrugged and re-entered the control area.
(VRRT-CH-CH-CH-CLUNK!)
"Assault, get out of the robot," said Battery.
"Don't wanna."
"You know it's got to be disassembled and gone over..." began Battery.
"Keep it running!" said someone from the crowd of PRT Image workers who were running out of the building. "Oh my dear paycheck! The MERCHANDISING!"
"Who let Image know that Assault has a 7.8 meter tall robot in his colors?" asked Battery.
"This can only end poorly," offered Triumph.