Investigation 2.6

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Yeoman asked. "You handled Alabaster well enough, but you're still really new at this and Shadow Stalker is both more powerful and more dangerous than the albino nazi. To say nothing of the Teeth should Mr. G's projections prove too optimistic."

We were waiting on separate rooftops just east of the drive-in's main entrance. Yeoman was on the higher of the two buildings, across the street leading to the theater entrance. Chariot had ensured we were able to communicate directly this time.

The drive-in was on the edge of the city on a spit of land that jutted out into the bay. The only way in was through the main entrance or climbing one of the low cliffs that surrounded it on the other three sides. Roof hopping was much more the former Ward's style than cliff climbing so we expected her to choose this route.

While we were hidden under some camouflage netting I thought Shadow Stalker seeing us might not be the worst thing. My read of her personality told me she was more likely to counterattack a perceived ambush than avoid it and slink away. In some ways we were bait as much as lookouts.

Which meant I was keeping my enhanced senses peeled for any sign of her approach or attack.

"Sentinel?" my distant companion prompted.

"Shadow Stalker needs to be stopped and this is our best opportunity to do it," I replied slowly. "Mr Gabriel says that the teeth, or at least their capes, are likely still out of town. That reduces the risk greatly. I spent much of the afternoon topping off my electricity reserves. I think we can take her. I'm willing to give it a shot."

"Then I'll just have to make sure to watch your back. I think too many people underestimate her. She's got a killer instinct that few other heroes have."

"You still consider her a hero?"

"No, but..."

"But what?"

"I can't help but think that she reminds me of me. Of how I might have turned out if things had been just a little different. And I'm not the only one. A lot of people have made the comparison. We are both young, female, and street level, with limited powers. Vigilantes. Snipers."

"She's like your doppelganger?" I offered.

"Sort of," Yeoman paused for several seconds. "I wonder if she's what I would have become if things had gone just a little different for me."

"Do you think that was ever really a possibility? From what I've seen you choose to avoid potentially lethal attacks. You could use something significantly more deadly than containment foam pellets in your weapon."

"I do use different munitions in different situations. But you're right that I try to reserve my deadlier attacks for those that can take them. But it could have gone very differently when I first started."

"In the Wards?"

"Have you ever heard of the kiss/kill response?" Yeoman asked quietly.

"No." I replied honestly to the apparent non sequitur.

"People that trigger together in what's called a cluster often have an irrational emotional response to other members of the cluster. Sometimes you're irrationally attracted to one clustermate while suffering an irrational aggressive response towards another. And it's not always a mutual response."

"This sounds ... problematic."

"It is. Have you ever heard of a local cape called Circus?"

The name was very familiar to me; they were one of my blood donors. But that was not a secret I was ready to share. "I have. A low level villain or mercenary depending on the source. Enhanced speed and dexterity, minor pyrokinesis, and an extra-dimensional pocket of some sort."

"There's a little more to it. But that's the one. We were clustermates. And the first thing I ever tried to do with my powers was to kill them." The young hero let out a sad chuckle. "Luckily, it didn't work and they got away. Soon after that I was recruited into the Wards. But what if I had succeeded? I might have been the one on the run."

"My understanding of trigger events is purely academic, but I've been led to believe that a person is not necessarily responsible for their actions in such a situation. I don't think the same thing can be said about Shadow Stalker," I continued more seriously. "She consciously chose to kill her victims. That seems like a significant difference to me."

"I suppose you're right," Yeoman replied.

After a few quiet minutes where I scanned the area, watching as several young men and women in peudo-tribal regalia trickled into the drive-in, the young hero barked, "Wait a minute! Did you just say that you don't remember your trigger?"

"I don't remember anything before appearing on a roof here in Brockton Bay a bit under two weeks ago," I confirmed. "If the little parahuman theory that I had read was accurate, I must have had some sort of trigger event myself, but I had no memory of it."

"I'd heard that Case 53's couldn't remember anything of their past," the former Ward said, "but I hadn't realized the memory wipe was so complete. Can you remember anything ? Or is that a really insensitive question?" The last was said with a definite sound of chagrin.

"It probably is rude," I replied honestly. "Certainly sensitive at least. I'm not thrilled with my loss of memory but it's my reality and I can't ignore it. The loss is spotty rather than complete. If I remembered nothing I wouldn't be able to speak. Instead I've some mastery of four different languages. I 'remember'," I used finger quotes as I'd seen Chariot do, even though she could not see me over the radio, "the oddest mish mash of cultural and historical references, many of which don't seem to fit with this world, or at least what I've read about it. For instance, I have no memory of Nazis in my world. I had no idea what they were until I read about the Empire 88."

"That actually sounds nice. What other differences have you discovered?"

"I don't recall any United States of America. And what I know of as the Ottoman Empire still exists and extends to encompass most of Eastern Europe, North Africa, Southwest Asia and beyond. A different world I guess."

"We've all heard of different worlds but I don't think I've ever met anyone who's actually been to one," Yeoman mused. "Or at least who can remember one. It must be very strange for you here."

I pondered silently for several seconds. How to express what I was feeling? "It is strange. And frightening and oddly wonderful. Consider the Bay. To you it's been a normal part of your environment for your whole life, almost invisible in its familiarity. But I cannot recall ever seeing such a grand expanse of water. It fascinates me. The unimaginable depths and the vast distances. The constant movement and the mercurial countenance of the ocean. I can't discover anything like it in my broken memories. I find it hard to look away sometimes. This is just one of the many wonders of this new world. As frightening and confusing as it may be, I still find myself looking forward to exploring it."

"You should talk to Gregor," Yeoman suggested after a moment. "He's been where you are, or as close as anyone has been."

"Who's Gregor?"

"A Case 53 in Faultline's Crew. There are actually two, but I don't think Newter is your kind of guy."

"Why not? Not arguing with you, just curious as to your reasoning." I did not know myself so I was interested in her impression of me.

"What's your opinion of Chariot?" She asked.

Deciding she must have a reason for the non sequitur, I answered honestly, "He seems like a good enough kid, a bit flighty and easily distracted. I've not seen him in the field so can't really judge his full mettle. Why?"

"I can see that," she allowed. "No imagine him twice as annoying, hyped up on drugs, and spreading his intoxication with every touch. That would be Newter. Not the kind of guy you can talk to about your shared feelings of isolation and self-discovery."

"I ... see," I said slowly. He did not sound like my kind of guy, a new discovery in itself. "Perhaps after we're done with this investigation I can look him up - Gregor that is."

"Some investigation," Yeoman groused. "I really don't know why Mr. G. brought me in on this if he was just going to use his thinker power to find Shadow Stalker. This wasn't even a good example of working a case. The lead was too old and we weren't the ones that broke it. Maybe next time I can show you how it is really done."

"Perhaps his discovery only came after we had begun our inquiries," I offered to placate ehr wounded pride. "It might even have been something you uncovered that pointed him towards his discovery."

"Bullshit!" she complained. "Thinkers are bullshit. If you're going to work with him or any other thinker, you need to keep that in mind. Thinkers AND tinkers bend the rules all the time. And it's not always just their powers. Sometimes thinkers' minds are bent in such a way that they think rules don't apply to them."

"So I should be wary of Mr. Gabriel?" I asked. He had done well by me as far as I knew, but I was cognizant that I was still new to the world and overly reliant on what the man in white told me about it.

"That's not really what I'm saying, though I would recommend being wary of everyone, at least to some degree. Especially parahumans. We're all broken in some way. And not all of us realize it or admit it to ourselves. I certainly have my problems. They shouldn't splash on you, unless you start getting sexually or romantically interested in me. Then we're going to have a problem, especially if you don't take 'no' for an answer." She paused for a second then continued. "I've got nothing against Mr. G. I've been working with him for a while now and he seems on the up and up. But I've been looking for his break, his problem, and haven't found it yet, so ... Be careful."

I considered her words. And they made a great deal of sense to me. I could not wholly trust anyone, not yet. Not until I knew the world and myself better. And not until they had proven themselves worthy of my trust. "You're right. Thank ... Argh!"

I cried out in pain as a quarrel appeared in my chest.

"Fuck! You people talk too damn much," Shadow Stalker said as she formed out of the shadows of the rooftop stairwell entrance. She was slowly loading another bolt in her crossbow.