PRT
Brockton office.
Thomas Calvert despised having his will thwarted. There were many occasions where he had to do something he disliked to obtain a goal. Many of those times were mitigated by fabulous rewards. He would vent his wounded ego upon one of his discarded timelines.
He desired absolute control over the girl Dinah. He obtained an enormous boost in the utility of her power at the cost of having to let her walk free. The only ties holding her, are those of gratitude to Danger and the Old Man.
He wanted to control the Brockton Protectorate. He had it. It would not be long before Piggot left and he alone was the power in this city. In exchange, he had been forced to give up most of the day-to-day control of his criminal empire. The eye of Watchdog was firmly on the City. He could not afford to split his attention too much.
The worst part was every time he sought to chisel information from Danger's family or just to relieve stress by taking out his ire on them he died. Most of the time his death was quite painful. At times the Old Man even leveled forfeits for his actions. Often taking information Calvert did not wish the Dangers to have.
He had decided this would be the last time he would attempt to get around their seeming immunity to his plotting. He was in the PRT HQ. He had split the timeline some time ago. In both timelines he was in his office This was the Directors office. (Piggott having been moved to the office held for visiting VIPs). He knew where all his assets were criminal and PRT. They all had their orders.
With a single call, he set events into motion. Uber and Leet would start teleporting the Undersiders into Noelle's room. At the construction site, the main generator would explode killing Danger. Along with most of the trustworthy Tinkers in North America but such was life. Every merc he had would go to kill the Old Man and Danger's twin
In moments it started. Instantly the lights in Noelle's room went dark. He heard her screaming in pain and horror. The PRT station went into alert mode. Not a word came from his mercs yet.
The generator at the Endbringer facility had blown at least. Protectorate Capes were headed there to check for survivors.
Power and lights shut down around him. Calvert pulled his side arm and started taking the back route to the garage. Not to evade an attacker but to avoid being seen ducking out by the agents under his command.
He made it halfway down the emergency stairs before he had to retreat. Containment foam came surging up from below. Its rise slowed to a stop at about waist-high on the second floor.
That had to be all of the main tanks. It looked like not a single safety had worked to vent the foam elsewhere. Thomas made for the roof access. As he walked he flipped his earpiece to the fifth floor frequency.
"Lower floors are not reporting. Unsure if this is an attack or- eyes on hostile eyes on hostile he's urgk-"
"Holy shit!" T
The sounds of automatic fire echoed through the air as well as the earpiece. Men were panicking. Then they were dying. Thomas kept racing the steps flipping channels again.
"How is he moving like that!"
"Stay down, it's para-human, it has to be no one's aim is that good."
"Has anyone seen the director? Someone evacuate Calvert."
"He may be trapped in the foam if he is not in his office."
Calvert exited to the roof and kept running. He made it to the rope ladder that was an emergency evacuation point for the roof. He threw it over the side but kept going. It might serve as a distraction. He had been slain on similar ladders too many times to risk it.
Entering the lone helicopter at the pad he quickly made for the seat and started the roaters. The door he had come through swung open again the figure crossing through it already in mid-pitch.
A thwomp Calvert knew well rang out. The rotors started to make a horrid grinding noise as confoam bound their motion and seized up the spin.
Calvert pushed the throttle up to full and slammed the stick to set the craft towards the Old Man. He then kept out of the cockpit.
The old codger did a roll passing under the out-of-control vehicle. Coming up; he threw a knife that sank into Calvert's gun hand just before he could get a grip on his sidearm.
"Stay down Tom. We both know you're not going to keep this timeline."
"How do you know? How do you always seem to know!"
"You know I think I'll actually tell you. Do you, ever do much reading, Tom? For pleasure I mean. Novels and such."
"Too busy. Always something to read for work or to prepare for my personal projects."
"Pity. If you had then this conversation would be easier. Larry Niven in particular."
Bocephus put his gun away. Calvert glared fuming about how this man had slaughtered his way through a building and his damn suit wasn't stained. Hell, it was barely wrinkled.
"I'm not JD's grandfather you see. Pop-pop is more convenient to say than great-great-great-grandfather."
"What?"
"I was born in nineteen fifty-one. I am one hundred and twelve years old. Given we left in twenty-sixty-two and we've been here about a year.
When I was born in rural Tennessee to a dying mother and an abusive drunk, the school library was a refuge. At least till I turned seventeen and could join the Marines.
First class ticket to see the world. They don't get many high-scoring folks when the IQ tests are passed out. No Marines are not famed for reasoning but they have spots for those who do. Got recommended for officer training. When American involvement with Vietnam came I was sent to help train Vietnamese MP's.
It was meant to root out communist sympathizers from the military. Keep a watch on what information was leaking and such. The men I was training surprised me one night with an assassination attempt."
"They were already compromised and knew you were close to catching them."
"Exactly! So I of course killed them and called up the chain to report the events. I thought I'd be talking to the brass about starting a new investigation into the infiltration. Instead, I was talking to shrinks who were really curious about how I survived."
"Your powers."
"No, not yet. Not as such. The only power I had was the ability to look in the faces of men I'd worked with for over a year and blow those familiar features apart. No remorse, no regrets."
"Sociopath?"
"Close high-functioning psychopath. A bit worse than your average CEO. The Marines decided they needed to ditch me at that point. It makes the men over you nervous when they know you could turn and frag them with barely a second thought."
"Yes. It does at that."
"Some people heard about it. The right people. One man's trash is another man's treasure. That was how I was recruited for Civilian life. By good Company men. I became a Spook, a Tourist, a CIA special operator. Given my ancestry, I was fast-tracked into the agent enhancement program. Having ancestors who were inspired meant that whatever genetic predisposition there is to getting powers I likely had it. I was one of the last as the success rate fell below a single percent about then."
"You had a similar job and decades more experience."
"Correct. Then there is my power. Some call it extreme luck or probability control. On the surface, that's what it looks like."
"I take it that isn't true" Tomas was excited he had been itching to learn more about the old man's power. Knowing how it worked was the key to overcoming any power.
"As I can't use Sci-fi as a reference I'll use music. Imagine a six-string guitar; each string is a timeline. The strings are being played so there is never a time they are not in motion despite this each string is in its own space. They are distinct and separate. Your power picks a point where the string is plucked; it either sends vibrations down the string or it doesn't."
"I can visualize that."
"Good because you will try to reject what I tell you. My power controls the entirety of how the vibration affects me."
"What do you mean?"
"Reality editing. Not just the present but the past and future as well. If you decide to betray me, come to find out I've spent the last half month preparing for exactly how you choose to attack. If you don't, I made better use of my time."
"That's impossible."
"Is it? Your power does something very similar. When you touch the string of time you feel as if you start walking in two timelines. You do not. At that instant, you experience two timelines and pick one but retain both sets of memories. Our Flux sensors pick up every time you do it. Watchdog and the like have never caught you using your power. It is because you aren't. You used it the moment you picked a future. Everything else is just mental impressions seared into your consciousness."
Calvert wanted to reject that but he couldn't because it would explain so much.
"What am I sleepwalking?"
"No you have already experienced the events so your conscious mind travels forward."
"Now you claim I time travel."
"We all travel through time and in the same direction. You just do it a bit faster at times."
"So whatever choices I make, your power ensures you have anticipated my moves and prepared for them. Even without conscious knowledge of what I have picked."
"If you think that sounds incredible there is one last fact that will really fry your brain."
Calvert raised an eyebrow and adjusted the position he was using to support his injured hand.
"This is the base power of all humanity. We can be thrown off track by an influx of Psionic or Quantum energy, but our base state is to push reality in our favor.
It isn't powerful but even one hundred-thousandth of such power amplified by billions ensures a constant pressure on the time stream. Opening a path where regardless of the scale of a tragedy the species will carry on."
Calvert worked to suppress his reaction. That was something Cauldron would pay to know. Perhaps even enough that they would agree his guests had served their purpose.
"As a Quantum user, Justin had to tap an existing source of Flux pressure. We were not pulled where we wished to go but we were most needed. Now that we are here it's obvious that more than one world is in the balance. The need of every human on every Earth the parasites are experimenting on pulled us here. They called us to open a path for survival. So in trying to kill us, you are actively fighting the collective temporal pressure of trillions upon trillions of humans. You might as well try to swim against a tidal wave."
"Are you finished?"
"Yes, I am done. Don't make me kill you, Tom. You won't win and we don't want your empire. We just want to continue our work."
Tomas released the timeline and resplit it at once. Unknown to him half a city away an old man and boy were taking a break from assembling furniture. They were in one of the cheap FEMA trailers that had helped house so many of Brocktons homeless.
"He's done." The boy said.
"Good."
"You told him more than I think was wise but I guess we have to trust the shadow you."
"Oh?"
"You told him you could sense when he used his power and what choices he made."
"Well, he'll redouble his efforts to find a way to kill me. Good, misdirection will keep him from coming after you. If he knew you were reading his mind he'd stop at nothing to see you dead. He's still ignorant of how much your mom keeps an eye on him too."
"She spends too much time incorporeal. Even with the work you've had her do lately."
"I'm going to give her something more substantial to work on. Here's to hoping she doesn't mess it up.
Now back to work if you want to sleep in a bed tonight we have to get it assembled."
Construction Ship
William Van Alen
Near the edge of Brockton Bay
Danger was whistling while pushing a wheeled cooker through the hall. He entered a large meeting room
"Hello everyone I guess I'm pulling up the rear but-."
He opened the cooler and set a tray on the central table. Then he pulled out some small bags with names on them.
"I brought breakfast!" the smiling pseudo-villain announced.
The assorted Tinkers went from being annoyed to curious. They each found the cups and bags with their names.
"Great bakery down by the docks. They were happy to fill a big order so early knowing who they were helping. I do have some notes. Squealer sorry you'll have to settle for glazed rings and decaffeinated coffee. They won't let me give you chocolate and caffeine while you're being monitored for drugs. Uppercrust these croissants are filled."
"Raspberry?" he inquired. The sickly founder of the Elite managed a weak smile. His trip to the Bay came with treatment by Panacea. While still mending he was at least no longer dying.
"Boysenberry." The young scientist answered.
"Oh ho! Now that is worth trying."
"Armsmaster. I refused to ask them to make anything out of grape nuts or granola. You got honey bran muffins with slivered pecans on top."
"Worth trying I suppose."
"As Kid Win doesn't like coffee I brought a soda to go with his donuts despite the heresy it represents. As for the new girl. Here Optics strawberry milk and pancakes. Those aren't from the bakery, by the way, well technically they are. I used their kitchen to make them."
"A sweet breakfast to put us in a good mood. I take it." Techton said after swallowing a bite of a cake donut.
The holographic projector in the middle of the table created the image of the woman in charge of the project. She had a pleasant but unremarkable physical appearance. It was only recently she had been willing to share that over her signature Dragon avatar.
"High spirits are essential to working together. Justin has been a member of similar teams in the past and volunteered to bring breakfast each day. The catered lunches and dinners will be no less pleasant only lacking in the personalized touches."
"A bribe, you're going to be an obstacle to some of our work aren't you." Uppercrust guessed.
"To an extent. I designed the core of the facility and its power grid. That work is largely done. If what you want to do would harm this foundation I have to veto it. Only Armsmaster can grant you an appeal."
"I thought you hated him?" Toy Soldier wondered aloud.
"Hate is a strong word. Arms is a bastard but he knows his stuff. I'll give you an example. Answer this question. The floor is open to everyone but Arms. Is this table level enough for precision work?"
"Looks good to me," Squealer said with a shrug
"I don't have a level on me." Toy Soldier excused himself.
"We're somewhat stable but ultimately floating on water. The motion will most likely foul your work." Uppercrust ventured.
"Oh, I could build a gyroscope-driven platform to keep it level!" Optics offered.
When the speculation wound down Danger waved to Armsmaster "Your answer?"
"The levelness is beside the point you can't use this table for precision work because it's not even or flat."
"Correct. This isn't a flat table, it's worthless for my purpose. Armsmaster understands the science and engineering enough to identify the correct problem first. He is also very good at making things work harmoniously. If whatever you want to put in meets his standards for being a must that is worth turning the base design on its ear for then I'll do it."
"What's a flat table? Some sort of special table?" Optics asked.
"It's also called a surface plate table. It's a table that has been forged and maintained with a laser to measure to make sure it has no curves, warp, or divots. Objects measured against it can be checked for extremely tight tolerance for straightness" Kid Win
"Big woo" Squealer opined.
"The industrial revolution that provided the engines you so love wouldn't have happened without the flat table Squealer. Interchangeable parts would not be a thing if we couldn't be sure they all fit. Every cycle of technical revolution has required increasingly tight tolerances. In turn, giving increasing performance.
They used to measure tables against each other checking for light coming out between plates. It would reveal the high spots. Then twisting them to compare again in case one bulge happened to correspond to another curve. Then again with a third surface. Until with exhaustive labor, they ensured it was just right. All that to do what we can now check with a synchronized beam of light and a few seconds. How far we've come" Justin added channeling his TV presenter origins.
"So too must we check each other's work not for malice or judgment, but because we must refine it. We must make this our greatest work. Nothing but our collective magnum opus will do." Dragon added.
"I think that's our cue to get to work then." Uppercrust acknowledged rising to get underway.
"Yes, Justin Armsmaster, stay a moment. I have questions I need to ask." Dragon replied.
As the collection of tinkers filled out
"Are Leet and Trainwreck still working on projects for us?" She asked.
"Leet feels it best that he works in his own facility. He doesn't work well with others. Trainwreck is working on some suits for the maintenance crews. They are lower tech easily maintained exo frames with hazmat support. He feels his project is contained enough to work independently. Plus he's shy."
"Good. Also, I want to make sure you and Armsmaster will be able to work together. It would be good for you to forgive him for stabbing you in the foot."
"For me to do that he would have to understand what he did wrong."
Colin looked at Dragon questioningly. He then looked at the Teen and on impulse took his helmet off.
"I know what you look like, it's obvious you closely resemble your twin."
Danger pulled off his goggles. But said nothing he neither acknowledged nor denied Armsmasters guess. He just stared the larger man in the eyes.
"They didn't publicize it but I was reprimanded for what happened. My attack did nothing to stop you from fleeing nor did it protect anyone present. You had wounded my pride. I lashed out in anger.
Given your willingness to work with us on such important matters, you are willing to put the greater need above petty issues. I am sorry for lashing out in wounded pride. If I had injured you in the achievement of a goal it would be different.
I can not make a public apology. The Protectorate should not be besmirched over my actions. Legend had a long talk with me after we captured Leviathan. You deflected credit, giving the lion's share to myself and Clockblocker. It shows a maturity that I being older should at least match."
"Dragon helped you with that, didn't she?"
"She helped me examine my actions with a more objective perspective."
"Good. Sort of thing a girlfriend would do in a rom-com." Danger said with a smirk. He turned to see Dragon's reaction.
Dragon's expression turned to one of surprise. Justin gave her a wink then turned back to Armsmaster.
"We'll let bygones be bygones. I do agree that this work is far too important to fail."
"One last thing Justin can you check this graph? We have Nova under monitoring. You were right she pushed her powers so hard that there was a high level of Flux radiation contaminating her. Is this dissipation level normal?" Dragon inquired, as she pulled up the requisite chart.
Colin noticed one eye turned to the chart before the other. For a second they focused on different places on the chart. It seemed Justin fought to make them sync up.
"Yes, that looks well within parameters. Quantum-empowered beings have to push their powers beyond the comfortable limits for them to grow. Nova pushed both her speed and super strength. However, she was also pushing her Quantum mastery itself.
It's unlikely she will see an improvement in her powers. Her powers are currently limited by how much Quantum force her body can pull into it. She had unusually developed fundamentals much better than me and I was a prodigy. One of the youngest to erupt."
"So a few more weeks and she can use her powers again?" Armsmaster asked for clarity.
"Three or four, yes. Now let's get to creating." Justin replied putting his goggles back on.
Brockton Bay
Dock Workers Union Building
Business had been picking up across Brockton. What could have been the death kneel to a city filled with decay had by the grace of victory flipped the script on this sort of attack.
The city had been flooded with government types after the Endbringer attack. FEMA had brought housing trailers expecting to have to rehome some people tossed out of their houses by flooding. Instead, they had scrapped the old storage yards and made a large trailer park. Temporarily Brockton had a surplus of cheap housing. The city's villain council had declared the park off-limits for a year. With no Cape or organized gangs, the Protectorate was using it as a good ground to let the Wards train.
Crime being manageable most of the rehoused Brocktonites were trying hard to make the best of their windfall. Construction companies and trade unions were opening apprentice positions on their rosters. Contracts surged in to rebuild the damaged sections of the city. They weren't just cleaning up the Endbringer damage either. Bakuda's bombing spree was being cleared as well.
The Dock Workers Union was one such union and a special case. Supplies for the rebuilding needed unloading. They were warned well in advance the city was about to become the hub of the largest Tinker tech worksite since the building of the Birdcage.
That was when Risk Reduction stepped in. They had provided equipment and loans to get the DWU through the gap between contracts being proposed and the first payments coming in.
Danny was checking the hiring data. The training programs were going well if the reports were accurate. Danny noted down a few details he would double-check personally to verify. If they proved correct he could trust the rest of the numbers.
He looked up to see someone approaching. With a smile, he opened his office door.
"Always a pleasure to see you down here Mrs Dee. How can we help each other today?" Danny called out, waving the representative for Risk Reduction into his office.
"Well, Danny it's a bit more personal than business this time. I have some news I'm sure you will want to hear. And I told you it's fine to call me Melinda"
"Well, I'm fine with that when we're alone Melinda but the docks are still a pretty rough and earthy place. I want the guys to remember that you're someone to remain respectful towards."
"I long ago learned never to turn down, even misplaced gallantry. Far too rare a quality these days. So thank you."
Danny smiled his heart lighter for the compliment. There was a shadow over that mood. He remembered the last time an attractive woman had thanked him for something he said. It had been Annette.
Mrs. Dee was definitely an attractive woman. Her voice reminded Danny of Lauren Bacall. She wore her jet-black hair in a shoulder-length wavy side part. Danny was glad he'd developed good eye contact skills because she had curves it would be dangerous to drive on if they were a road. More than that she had that spark, that charisma, that elusive it, to command attention whenever she walked into a room. She spoke and people listened. She asked and they couldn't help but consider. He did not doubt that if she commanded, many would jump to obey.
"You said something about, news?"
"Oh, yes. I have the fortune to have been let into an exclusive loop. When the Endbringer fortress is done they are going to repurpose two of the cargo boats Squealer made. You are going to get your wish, Danny Herbert. Brockton is getting a ferry again."
"Now that is great news! All this development and a ferry? How did you learn this?"
"The City was looking for partners to help development. The project still needs terminals for entry and exit, and piers to dock at. Let us not forget parking for those who aren't taking their cars over. I think with piers and cargo comes the necessity of a certain type of unionized laborers."
"That's specialized, a bit outside the DWU current skill set. But I think I can find a few names who would be interested. If not we'll have folks with the right certifications or who are working towards them and have waivers. If you open before they can finish."
"I knew I could count on you, Danny. I've come to count on you so often that I've put your name forward for a very special project."
"Oh? Does this involve the DWU or is it something else?"
"Something else, something more personal."
"Well alright, I'm willing to listen."
"First off we need to get something out in the open. I know you're a widower and single parent. I can sympathize. I lost my own husband. I had a teenage girl as well. She's off on her own now but I know that can't be easy for you."
"Well, that is true. I fell apart after Annette died. It almost broke me. I wasn't there for Taylor when she needed me. I think she still has this view that I can't be trusted. Look if this is about dating while it would be good for Taylor to have a woman in her life. I don't think I'm ready to get back on that horse. I sor-"
"Let me stop you there. You are a fine man Danny but not my type. I might be willing to give you a bit of help with Taylor however. If you would trust me as a friend to do so."
"Yeah, that would be great." Danny felt intense inner conflict. What he'd said was true. He didn't think he was up to dating again. Being firmly told that Melinda wasn't interested was a bit of a blow to the ego.
"Alright so here is a message I have to deliver. It should clear the air before we go any further. Please remain as calm as you can. You won't like the problem it presents but I can help you with it."
"Alright," Danny hesitantly said. The build-up was making him nervous.
She pulled out a tablet and flipped out an integrated stand then tapped the screen. On it, Weaver of the Undersiders appeared.
It was impossible to read the bug-like mask. The muffled nature of the mask and droning that mixed insectile buzzing with her words made it hard to read any emotion into her words.
"My name is Weaver, you might know me as a villain. One of the ones who has taken over the Brockton underworld in the face of the E88 and ABB's collapse.
I've been working to keep the worst villains out. Once I wanted to be a hero, maybe more of an antihero. I didn't have much trust in the Protectorate. I think I'm doing better sticking with this. I'm sort of an anti-villain. I do bad things but keep people safe.
This is going to be the most shocking part of this for you." The villain in the video said, reaching behind her head.
She pulled the mask off with a quick smooth motion born of obvious practice. She shook her hair out and put on a pair of glasses. Taylor's face stared out of the screen. He felt an icey dagger stab him in the soul.
"Please don't freak out. The people with this video will want to talk to you. You may not have a reason to trust me but you can trust them."
Danny sat dumbfounded. His mind was rolling in circles between shock, anger, and hurt. Melinda sat quietly letting him process. Realizations came to Danny about this woman. If she was this deep into the workings of the city's villains she was dangerous. Maybe even a cape.
"What is going on here?" He finally asked.
Melinda held up a finger and stood up. She stepped into the hall and returned with two cups of water. From the cooler in the hall. She set them down so Danny could pick one. She then picked up the other and took a sip.
"Your daughter triggered due to bullying at Winslow. She was trying to be an independent hero. She has almost zero trust in authority. She was trying to be a double agent and learn about the Villain Unity plan. Once she saw what we were doing to help the City she became conflicted. The other Undersiders had treated her well and become the closest thing to friends she'd had in over a year."
"Emma. When she told me about Emma she should have told me the rest."
"She almost did. She planned to talk about it after The school's hearing. She can be a mono-focused thing when she wants to. The school's refusal to do something about it derailed that. Then she got to know my Son, Justin."
"Dr. Danger. You let him-"
A momentary flash of anger crossed her features before a resigned look chased it away.
"Let is a strong word, Danny. I allow him certain leeway. One of my relatives is keeping an eye on him at all times. The same who gave me the dossier on you and Taylor. When I read the part where you broke down and neglected Taylor I was very... we'll go with angry about it.
Then Old Bo said something that hit me like a punch to the gut. He asked me if I was angry at what you had done or how much it reminded me of how much I'd failed my own children"
Danny blinked. He looked over Melinda thinking about what that revelation could mean.
"In the end, Danny Justin does his part to save the world. Taylor wants to help but what form that takes depends on you. An ultimatum has been issued. She had to come clean and seek your input before proceeding further."
"I don't want her to be a villain. I understand that the system is broken. I do. I've been a fighter, my wife was too. This kind of resistance can go bad quickly. Lustrum was devoted to women's rights but it got dark fast. Annette saw it coming and got out."
"Not an unreasonable request. We have options. You see we have friends on the other side. You know Danger is about to get a pardon. Taylor can follow him. She is conflicted about it herself."
"Because of her friends. God damn it I know who some of them are."
"Yes, don't worry you'd have a mutual stranglehold under the rules. If they targeted you and Taylor, what you know could ruin their lives as easily. No, what I'm concerned about is if you want to remain on the sidelines."
"What do you mean? I want to take an active part in Taylor's life. I might not be doing the best job at that right now but..."
"What if you could do more? What if you could become a Cape Danny? Would you be able to act? Would you stand up and fight for what you want? Would you fight for the City? And if so, on what side?"
"I'm sure hypotheticals are supposed to help me empathize with Taylor. I don't think I can think about the abstract right now."
Melinda rose and leaned in very close. So close Danny leaned back from her.
"This isn't a hypothetical. This is an offer, Danny. I'm here to recruit you if you're willing to fight. You said you were a fighter. Was that just talk?"
Danny blinked a hollow pit forming in his stomach. The choice she was implying was enormous. The repercussions that he could barely force himself to think about.
"You'll want to talk to Taylor. You have three days. If you decide against working with us in any quantity we'll give you a half million dollars. Use it to move to the West Coast or Alaska, anywhere far away. If you walk away from this you should sever ties completely."
She stood up, adjusted her jacket, and started away. She gave him a last backward look.
"See you in three days Danny."
Danny watched her close his office door and lowered his head into his hands.