Sorry for the delay folks, I'm writing as I go with only a broad plan to work off. So, while I was pumping out a chapter a day back in the days of 1.1-1.4 I don't think I could keep such a pace up, especially now that law exams are around the corner.
2.1 - In Service of A Little Oracle
Say what you will of Lung's criminality, but the man paid well; he even had enough sense to pay in clean bills which were transferred to her bank account by some 'Mr Pao' whom she'd never had the pleasure of meeting before. Taylor's account was now slowly creeping into the realm of several hundred thousand dollars, and that was after all the expenditure on her costume, cleaning supplies and permits.
She hadn't really looked at her account much since she'd set it up, but as she stared at the screen which displayed her online banking account balance, she didn't know what to make of it. Mom and Dad lived a relatively modest life, saved to pay off the mortgage and when she passed away, Dad had to work longer hours to keep them going. Now she was looking at several years' worth of her dad's labour, and she'd made that in just over two months.
Deciding to seek some advice, she brought the laptop down with her to the living room where Danny was watching a nature documentary, his crutches leaning on the cushion beside him.
"Hey Dad, I was wondering if you had a moment," Taylor asked as she stood off to the side.
"Sure, I'm feeling pretty good today. Did something happen?"
"No, Lung has paid what we've agreed and it looks like he'll hold to his end of our contract. What I wanted to ask is what you should do with money."
"What you should do with money?" her Dad looked a bit confused at the question "How much do you have now?"
"I presently have two hundred and forty-five thousand, six hundred and four dollars in the account, there's still a few outstanding payments as well."
"Wow…" He sat back and hit the pause button on his remote "That's about what we paid for this house in total five years ago."
"They never taught us any finance stuff at school and I want to get a good baseline of knowledge for my power to work off. I thought you might have some wisdom to share."
"I don't know Taylor, me and Annette were never rich enough to get into investing or even going to a financial advisor. I feel I'm a bit out of my depth here but I'll try, your grandfather did give me some tips on finance before I moved out."
Taylor sat down, putting the laptop aside as her father moved his crutches away to wrap an arm around her and looked up at the ceiling in thought "The first lesson he taught me was to never spend what you can't afford, it always comes around to bite you in the ass, like the credit cards every one seems to be using these days. Though I suppose that won't be an issue for you, my industrious daughter" he smiled.
She nodded and he turned away to think again "Next, he told me that while cash is king, it's the stuff you can buy with it that's valuable. See, he lived through the aftermath of the Great Depression of the 30s as a kid and told me about times when they had money but the local store had nothing to sell, so they were stuck bartering with their neighbours for stuff like meat and flour. I don't know how it works at your level of wealth but essentially, just don't keep all your wealth in cash; a bit like that box of silver coins I keep in the attic."
"So, I should probably do some investing then?"
"Yeah, just make sure you don't gamble so much on the stock market that you can't pay the bills."
"No, I meant like buying a bodega in town, hiring someone to man it and then taking the profits plus the appreciating value of the underlying asset."
"That's all Greek to me" her Father chuckled "In truth, it was Annette who did the financial planning for us, though I did the accounting since it's part of the job at the Union. I could probably direct you to our finance guy, Benny, but I think you'd be better off talking to a proper advisor if you're making this much."
"There's no need for that, I just need to read up on how all this works and my power will fill in the gaps. But thanks for the advice, Dad, I'll probably get some silver bars to stuff under my mattress for a rainy day."
Her father nodded and they continued to sit there, watching the documentary and enjoying each other's company.
Putting her financial studies aside for the moment, Taylor had begun to put her plan for cleaning up the Bay into operation, having used a fair chunk of her recently acquired wealth to purchase the rather expensive equipment to do underwater welding. Initially, she wanted to have Parian modify it into something resembling her costume, but both her power and common sense told her that having a long skirt underwater would just get it caught on the metal or the many other things which lurked beneath the waves.
She would have to do this out of costume. Her body was hardly distinctive enough to get her outed as a cape on that basis alone, but she couldn't see any way to wear a proper mask alongside both the diving and underwater welding equipment she'd be hauling. That meant she'd have to do it unmasked and hope nobody spotted her, which in fairness was a fairly low chance considering she'd be underwater for most of it.
Her Dad was in no condition to man the boat or the welding tanks supplying the oxygen and power for her oxygen-arc cutter. But she needed someone who knew her out of costume and that left a list in the single digits. Sabah was the only realistic option, but she had to man her shop outside weekends and she might not be able to get a boat from the DWA on those days. Assuming Rune agreed, she'd also have to work around her schedule; she looked school-age so it would have to be some time in the evening or a weekend.
Putting those thoughts aside for the moment, Servant entered the City Council building, leaving her sword at the security desk for the officer to gawk at. For a mere girl with a far-fetched plan to save the Bay, her email requesting a meeting with Mayor Alcott received a relatively swift reply and had her booked the same week; today starting in about ten minutes. Perhaps it was the fact that she was a cape or perhaps he was genuinely interested in her plan. By all accounts Mr Alcott was a relatively honest man who did good work for the city, he would give her plan fair consideration if nothing else.
A few minutes later, the secretary waved her into a modest office, well-decorated from the man's several terms in office but not in an auspicious sense; there were of course plenty of bookshelves with some impressive tomes on them and a large map of the city in one corner but besides the various awards hung up behind him, it looked a little underwhelming for a politician of his longstanding. "Greetings Mayor Alcott, thank you for having me."
"But of course, it's a pleasure to have you. I was pleased to hear of your plan, even if it does seem a little unrealistic with just you performing the work."
"Sir, perhaps I am just pushing a boulder here, but if nobody tries then it will never shift. You've seen my plan, this won't cost your government anything; all I require is the scrapping permits, official endorsement of my operation and help in dealing with the USEPA. Even if I don't achieve much, it will look good for your administration to be doing something about the Boat Graveyard."
"Yes, according to your proposal, it should be cleared enough for vessels of up to 10'000 DWT. I'd be pleasantly surprised if you could do that, according to the last survey we have, even doing 5'000 DWT would be a challenging prospect."
"That survey is badly outdated" Servant noted as she produced her briefcase and handed him her initial survey sketch "As you can see, many of the vessels have fallen deeper onto the sea floor, leaving the job considerably easier than it was 20 years ago. Even if I fail, I imagine a full survey now will reveal a much easier job, even if the full cleanup is still in the billions."
As the Mayor looked down at her sketch in thought, the door opened a little and the frazzled hair of a little girl poked into the office, eyes wide at seeing Servant there talking to her father. She gave a gentle wave and the girl returned it with some hesitation before nodding to herself and entering the office, sitting down on the carpeted floor by one of the bookshelves.
The Mayor noticed the girl and frowned at her "Dinah, I'm speaking to someone important right now. Can this wait?"
"I just wanted to see what you were up to Uncle, sorry." Replied the girl as she looked toward Servant.
"You are disturbing my guest, please…"
"It's quite alright Mr Alcott. I'm sure your niece's curiosity won't interfere with our meeting. What harm is there in indulging her curiosity?" Servant interjected, looking down at the girl in more detail and noting the little handbag she carried.
Mayor Alcott thought for a moment then turned to his niece "Alright, if Servant is alright with it you can stay. Just, try to be quiet alright?" He handed the woman before him her drawing and returned his attention to her "If you truly don't require any financial resources from me for this operation, then it has my support. Even if it does not work out, I will at least commission another feasibility study on the matter of removing those shipwrecks. I thank you for bringing this to my attention, it seems I am in your debt."
"There is no debt to be had, Mr Alcott. I am as much a Brocktonite as yourself and want to see this city turn into something more than a battlefield for the gangs. But there is one request I have for you if you don't mind."
"I am listening."
"For a rate of one dollar per year, I would like you to hire me in a personal capacity to assist this city. I do not wish to become a government employee but my power to aid Brockton Bay would be substantially improved if I could have you as my employer, if not to the same extent."
The Mayor looked at her in surprise but sat down and pulled out his brown leather wallet. "If it were any other cape asking, I'd be much more sceptical, but I think you've shown far more concern for the people of this city than most of the capes I've met, even the ones that are with the Protectorate. I think you deserve the benefit of the doubt."
She took the offered dollar and curtsied as she felt new knowledge enter her mind about the city. Of all the many reports of decrepit infrastructure and how many times they'd had to postpone addressing them. Everything from sewer lines built in the 1800s in dire need of maintenance to potholes in some of the dockyard areas, and the crime, oh the crime; compared to even large cities like Manhattan the crime rates of Brockton Bay made the latter look peaceful.
Servant had just exited the Mayor's office when she felt a little dress brush past her own, something slipping into her pocket as little Miss Alcott sped past her down the hall. Patting her pocket down she was not missing anything, but a note had been slipped in by the girl and as she stopped to read it, she could hardly believe its contents.
Miss Servant
I am in danger. Can we talk in the women's bathroom on this floor?
I cannot afford much but will do anything in my power to reward you if you can help me.
Dinah Alcott
Taylor looked at the paper and frowned. It was possible that this was some kind of prank… but who would seriously lie about being in danger just to get her into a bathroom, let alone a girl she'd met for the first time today. Additionally, there was also the obvious question of why she had come up to what was for all intents and purposes a stranger rather than, say, her father or the Police.
To answer these queries, as well as ensure that the girl was indeed safe, Servant headed in the direction Dinah had run and entered to find it empty, bar one locked stall. She went over to the sinks, as if to check on herself in the mirror and touch up her fabric mask, confirming that there were no approaching footsteps before speaking up. "Dinah, this is Servant. You said you're in danger?"
"Do you believe me?" the little girl asked quietly.
"I don't think it's usual for people to claim themselves to be in danger for a joke, so unless I see evidence to the contrary, I shall believe you for the moment. What is the danger specifically and why haven't you gone to your Dad, your Uncle or the Police?"
"I have gone to them. Several times now, but nothing ever happens and they don't believe me anymore."
"If nothing ever happens, why do you believe yourself to be in danger Dinah?"
The silence was heavy in the bathroom before the girl spoke again "I'm a parahuman, a cape. I triggered when I'd just started middle school. My power lets me ask a question and then receive an answer as a percentage chance. When I ask if I'm in danger, the percentage is usually about one or two percent. During those times when I told my Dad, the Police or my Uncle before, the percentage was over fifty. I did everything I could to stay safe and managed to beat those odds somehow. This time, the percentage was eighty-four, that I would be in danger today."
Servant's eyes widened and she stepped out for a moment, looking both ways to ensure they were truly alone before coming back and resuming the conversation. "Dinah… Do you know who is after you? Can you ask that question?"
"No, the answer is a percentage so it can't tell me a name. But I've asked about what they've wanted to do to me by going through some likely options. There is a ninety-four percent result when I asked if the people who posed the danger wanted to kidnap me."
"I…" Taylor did not know what to say "Fuck. Have you gone to the PRT? Perhaps they could protect you on the rig."
"No!" the girl suddenly squeaked "Don't call them, the odds of me getting kidnapped if I go to the PRT are also really high. But, when I asked what the odds of you helping me were, they were over ninety. When I asked if you could stop the danger, the odds were seventy-eight percent that you could. So please, protect me. As I've said, I don't have much money at all but I'll be in your debt for the rest of my life if you could protect me."
Taylor paused at her outburst. She was the best choice Dinah had to avoid being kidnapped? That seemed impossible. She was just one cape and her power would do nothing against a bullet, even if she was decent with a sword now. But, would she refuse this girl? Leave her to be kidnapped and subjected to whatever disgusting plans the criminal in question had? No, she could not live with herself if she made that choice.
Servant sighed solemnly as she went over to the bathroom door, stepping back as Dinah Alcott revealed herself, shaking in nervous anticipation. "Very well, I will accept your offer with some stipulations. First, I don't need you in my debt for the rest of your life. Instead, let us say that you will owe me five favours; for you to do something or answer something for me within reason. In exchange, I shall protect you for as long as it takes for the danger to pass, and if need be, rescue you should the worst come to pass."
"Okay," Dinah took her hand in a gentle shake and fully exited the stall. They exchanged phone numbers and Servant left the building, heading straight for a certain boutique.
"So, now you're a bodyguard for the Mayor's niece and someone is actively planning to kidnap her?" Sabah asked, looking at her friend incredulously "For someone who spoke big about staying out of trouble you seem like a bit of a magnet for it."
"Yeah" groaned Taylor, her mask resting on her lap as she sprawled out on the shop's comfiest chair "But I couldn't just do nothing. For all we know I'm her best bet at making it out of this in one piece."
"And that's why you want me to make you a set of armour to go with your costume."
"Yep, hence all these sketches I've brought along."
Sabah glanced at the stack and sighed "The ones with any serious amount of metal are beyond my skills and even those with smaller elements like arm guards will take weeks for me to order with a friend of mine who forges for a hobby. The Kevlar designs are more doable, but working with it is a pain and it would take me a while since I don't have an industrial machine of the sort you'd usually use to work on it."
"Well, she indicated that the threat was imminent. I don't have months or even potentially weeks to wait."
"Well, as much as I dislike rejecting business. I'd advise you to just go to a military surplus store and buy yourself some Kevlar and a helmet. Your power will probably help in picking some up that are still usable. As for some weapons, clearly, I can't help you there. Just bear in mind that if anyone ends up dead, even the bad guys, there's usually a big court case that gets drawn out if the people in power don't like you. I don't think you'd fall into that category since you've been doing good work all over the place but still…"
Taylor smiled at her friend's concern "You know, we've only known each other for three months and here you are helping me avoid murder charges. I shudder to imagine what we'll be up to in another six. Overthrowing the government perhaps?"
Sabah's laugh was a pleasant one and she sat down by her friend in another chair "Yeah. But I really am worried for you. If these guys are so big that they're planning to kidnap the mayor's niece, it's probably not something to jump into recklessly. You could end up hurt."
"I've passed through the Empire and danced with Dragons, at this rate foiling a kidnapping will just be Tuesday." Taylor's face turned solemn and she looked to her friend "I'm scared to be honest. I've never done something like this. But every time I think of her, I'm reminded that if I fail something awful is going to happen to her. Who else though? The PRT is apparently compromised and both the Police, Mayor and her Dad think she's making it up. The Army?"
They both sat, thinking until Sabah suddenly sprung up with a smile on her face. "I have an idea. There may be someone who isn't in the PRT and wouldn't turn away the chance to kick some kidnapper butt."
"Who are you thinking?"
"Glory Girl! Her power is pretty much ideal for fighting and even if they shoot her, she'll be fine. The issue will be convincing her but, in this situation, it might be possible."
"How much do you think she'll charge?" asked Taylor as she mentally considered her account balance "I imagine she doesn't come cheap."
"I don't know for sure. But she might take this one on for free, or at least some nominal fee like going out for ice cream with her. In all the time she's shopped with me she never seemed like the sort to really care about money."
"Well, I don't know her that well, Just those times she's come in while I was with you, but if you're willing to vouch for her and she's up for it, I'd be happy to have her help."
"Great. I'll feel her out for you and forward her phone number to you if she's up for it. Now, I believe you've got some armour to buy Miss Bodyguard."
As a large city with a decent wartime military presence, it was natural that several army surplus stores would pop up post-WW2. Many would go out of business as there was only so much a market for military surplus but those that remained were able to stay in business and even expand somewhat with all the leftovers of high government spending during the Cold War and all its little constituent conflicts.
'American Defence Surplus' was objectively the best of the lot for her present purposes, founded later than the others, it focused primarily on Cold War-era surplus and also sold more modern defence supplies on the side alongside being a small-time firearms dealership for period-era weapons.
It was also an Empire 88 front business located deep within their territory, it was a good bet that their goons went here to get equipped and that their firearms dealership sold far more than there was on the display shelves. Unfortunately for her, it was likely her best shot at getting functional body armour, whether police or army surplus, she guessed that the E88 wouldn't sell stuff that didn't work to their own men, or was it folks of their own race? She didn't get it really.
Unlike some of the other stores, which were little more than a tiny urban storefront packed with heaps of old cloth and rusted metal, this place was clean enough that Servant's maid instincts didn't make her jittery at its sight alone, though the smell was still the same as the rest even if it was less intense. She passed by racks of uniforms, mostly American but some from other countries which were evidently there for collectors who were looking to spend big as reenactors or airsofters. To the side by the counter, there was a section of all the non-clothing stuff, dusty tents, webbing and all sorts of other things; If she wasn't here for business and could wear a hoodie or some kind of disguise, she could probably make a day out of just wandering these shelves.
The reason she was going in costume was twofold: Firstly, since the owner was almost certainly E88 and high enough in the gang to own the place, he would likely have heard of the work she'd done for them, which might net her being directed to some of the more serviceable pieces rather than the ones in which the Kevlar had already deteriorated enough to be useless. The second was the fact that she could not imagine herself, as Taylor, walking into the place, talking up some Nazis and walking out with a sack of body armour and perhaps even a gun. At that point, if Sophia or anyone from Windslow saw her they'd guess that she was in the E88 and she didn't want to chance it.
"Hello Ma'am, are you looking for something specific?" Servant's browsing was interrupted as a balding middle-aged man approached her "Ah, Servant. Sorry for the delay. How may I assist you?"
"You have heard of my work then?" She asked, turning her masked gaze upon him "All good I hope."
"Of course, our mutual acquaintances are quite pleased with it. The beer hall has never shined quite like it did once you'd cleaned it up for us, I should know since I'm a regular."
"Good" Servant directed the man to a few racks of various armoured vests and a pile of helmets beside them "I am looking for some Kevlar to keep me safe at work. Would you have any recommendations?"
"Might I ask what threats specifically? It would help me recommend the best option for you."
"I am currently doing some bodyguard work for a client who is at risk of kidnapping by some institution. As such, I would like ballistic protection of the highest level available for both my chest and head, if you have anything for the arms, I'd also like to take a look at it."
The man nodded and gestured for her to follow him upstairs "The oldest of these are from the Korean War and the earliest are from the Gulf War. As such, the level of protection they once offered is not the same as it once was, the same goes for the helmets. But upstairs we have some more modern police surplus as well as some commercially sold body armour."
That was true enough, she certainly wasn't an expert on military surplus even with some reading she'd done before coming here, but it was practically the first thing she'd found on the PHO subforum about it; do not trust surplus vests with your life, Kevlar has a shelf life and by the time it makes its way to the surplus store it's well past that.
They entered a smaller floor, barely a quarter of downstairs but also lacking the distinct smell of surplus. "This section of our store is for professionals who require body armour in their line of work" Explained the shopkeeper "Everything here is in date and from official military and police stock."
Servant noticed that he didn't mention anything about where they'd purchased it.
"Here we are then. Now, are you expecting to face explosives or fragmentation more generally?"
"I'd prefer to play it safe when it comes to this. I'd like one with both Kevlar and armoured pates if you have those available."
"Then you'll want some Level III plates with Level II soft armour, I think I have just the thing" he directed her to a simple black vest, lacking much decoration bar a few rows of MOLE webbing loops "This is the Hybrid, a vest manufactured by Premier with inbuilt soft armour for the whole upper torso and the option to fit any standard plate."
Servant took the vest and tried it on, slipping it over her head she could feel the weight upon her shoulders, which would only increase once the plates were added. "Excuse me, this feels a bit loose, do you perhaps have a smaller size?"
"We do" the man handed her a smaller one to try "Unfortunately, these do not come in women's sizes. We do have some specifically for women but none of those provision for plates. So, I'm afraid this would be your best choice."
She grunted a reply and tried the new one. It fit much better, perhaps her lack of chest was good for something after all.
It did not take long for her to pick out a nonremarkable Level II helmet and settle on the armour. Almost five thousand dollars lighter, she exited the store with a black fabric bag for her purchase, as well as the manual and a few other papers. She has considered asking about a firearm, but even if she was a cape she was still a minor; having that found out would probably be the most embarrassing moment of Taylor's life, but perhaps she could convince her Dad to buy something?
There was also the matter of the PRT generally frowning on capes using firearms. She really wasn't sure why, when people were running about throwing miniature suns or reality-warping phenomena at each other, she couldn't see why this was such a big red line for them. Besides, she wasn't in the Protectorate, whatever rules or guidelines they had did not apply to her unless they were in the law.
When her Dad had asked about the body armour, she told him honestly that she wanted to be safe while working and he was happy to hear that. He was more cautious when she asked him if they'd ever owned any firearms, at which point she'd explained that she was acting as a bodyguard for someone related to the Mayor's office.
Suffice to say, he was not happy about it.
But, he did eventually disclose that her grandfather had a shotgun, which had been stored in the attic since his passing and left there, since they lived in a fairly safe neighbourhood that Dad never felt the need to take it out.
As she went in search of it, she found an odd toolbox which was also apparently left by her grandfather, but moved it aside to discover a long gun wrapped in oiled parcel paper. Unwrapping it, she was met with a well-used Browning Auto-5 shotgun, along with a few boxes of old brass cartridges for it. For her purposes, it would have to do.
Investment banking advice! That is what separates the sort of capes who get to retire at 40 and those who have to fly about in their spandex until their 70s! Do not neglect your pensions folks, future you will thank old you for a cushy retirement plan.
The plan to clean up the Bay is going well, on top of Rune and perhaps Glory Girl, she now has official support from the Mayor; so, the PRT will hopefully have advance notice and not attempt to arrest her for doing good for the City.
Also, enter stage right, Dinah Alcott. You'll notice that her prediction was that Servant could end the threat, nothing about her not getting kidnapped. Not to spoil anything, but in the next chapter, Taylor will meet a certain cape; the stranger of strangers, the namesake of the PRT designation!
[{零}This Space is intentionally left blank].
Also, in case you couldn't tell, I'm a militaria nerd. But I also didn't want to do an entire chapter of shopping for Taylor. I may enjoy writing it but you probably won't enjoy reading it.
Yes, the toolbox is a reference to that one popular fic about a certain Great Grand uncle Schimmelhorn. Personally, I enjoyed the start of that fic but found it dragged on a bit too long and slow for my tastes.
