10 Overhaul

I hurried back to my apartment and tried not to think about what Garment had been doing to my wardrobe. I've never been particularly fashionable. My strategy has always been to find something serviceable and run with it. When I was in college a T-shirt and jeans had practically been the uniform of the engineering class. I don't think I saw one person vary from it in my entire time there.

Clearly that did not work for Garment. I didn't know what she intended, but it made me nervous. I didn't like attracting attention and what she'd replaced my earlier clothes with was already at the limit of what I was comfortable with. I really didn't want to end up dressed up like some hipster just to keep Garment happy.

I guess I was her only model. I could do something about that. I had been able to build humanoid androids since I got my Grease Monkey power. High level synthetics required extensive development times, but I could cut down on that substantially by using cultured human tissue and repurposed neural matter to compliment processing.

Ok, no. I'm not building a borderline sapient cybernetic android just to avoid having to play dress up. A.I. was a dicey enough prospect to begin with, much less if you took those kinds of shortcuts. I'd promised myself I'd be responsible with any intelligences I created. I wasn't going to bring new life into the world only to explain that the purpose of its existence was distracting the fashionista.

Garment was part of my power. We were stuck with each other and I'd have to come up with a compromise we could both live with.

As I climbed the stairs to my apartment I felt the Celestial Forge. The Size constellation passed by without any successful connections. I put that out of my mind and continued to the closet to open the workshop. Garment was standing there defiantly. Well, 'standing' there. It was incredible how quickly I had accepted the illusion. Really she was a pair of floating gloves with everything else telekinetically suspended, but it was a lot easier to think of the entire collection as one person.

"Garment, what happened to my clothes?"

She gestured at the various items folded on the assorted surfaces or suspended on the wall as if to say everything was fine. She also shifted slightly to obscure my view of the definitely empty duffle bag that had previously contained my wardrobe. Instead I looked over to the cardboard box and cracked the lid.

Inside were the disassembled remains of clothing. I wasn't the best judge of things, but it didn't look like enough material to account for everything that disappeared from the duffel bag. Looking over the new items there were some familiar elements, colors or broad designs that had been integrated into new items.

"Did you remake all my clothes?"

There was a sense of pride and accomplishment in her stance with no hint of shame. Looking closer with the benefit of my abilities I could see the effect. Everything had been tailored to be completely bespoke. Not everything had made the transition. It looked like some items had been cannibalized for fabric and others had been trashed completely. There were some new items, the suit being the most obvious, but it wasn't as shocking a change as I'd been afraid of.

My personal style was definitely being altered, but that was mostly because I had no personal style to begin with. It was at least more subdued than I had been afraid of. There were no ridiculous runway flairs or poorly integrated vintage items. Miraculously it was not hipster clothing. I might go out in a shiny costume to fight supervillains but I still have standards.

"It's incredible that you managed all this since this morning."

There were some awkward qualifying motions from Garment.

"What?" I had seen everything stored both in here and in the workshop. What was she talking about?

There was the slightest gesture towards the Laboratorium door. Cautiously I edged forward and opened it.

Apparently I had badly underestimated Garment's crafting rate and her level of boredom. I probably should have clued that something was up when all of the items in the entry way had been designed for me. Garment had seemingly decided that my Laboratorium would function perfectly as a walk in closet.

I was honestly amazed at the quantity of it. Assuming she kept to her budget how was it possible to buy this much material for what I had given her? Actually, how was the cost decided? Wholesale direct from a factory was a very different number than the retail price at a specialty fabric store. Even so, the only way I could make sense of this is if she was abusing the international exchange rate in some way. Somehow she had purchased enough supplies to fill the entrance of my gothic technology lab with outfits.

There were dresses, coats, sweaters, shirts, pants, and shoes. Those I didn't have a problem with. What was bothering me was the hats. Only about a half dozen of them, and all nicely made. The problem was how Garment had decided to store them.

The other items were folded, hung on walls, or spread over computer altars. For the hats she had decided the Laboratorium had the perfect manner of displaying them. The half dozen cyber skulls nearest the entrance were all festooned with lovingly made women's hats. The worst was probably the bonnet with silk flowers sown into it. Its skull warbled towards me, one eye socket empty and the other with a cybernetic lens, and managed to look confused at what was happening to him. The other skulls weren't much better, particularly the one wearing a broad hat with attached peacock feather.

I slowly backed out of the lab and closed the door. How had she managed this? It had barely been four hours since she arrived. If this was the rate of work she needed to entertain herself then I was going to be both bankrupt and drowning in clothes within a few days.

"Uh, Garment?"

She stood there expectantly.

"Ok, uh, that's really nice work, but please don't store things in there. I'll find you a place to keep your clothes." Which would have to be outside my workshop. Or my apartment, since there was just no space for that amount of clothing. This would be getting complicated. Maybe a storage locker would work as a temporary option.

In the mean time I needed to find something for Garment to do that wouldn't require any additional money or storage space. What did normal people do to kill time?

I looked over at the laptop I had set up for Garment and an idea struck me.

"Would you like to watch some fashion videos on youtube?"

She seemed a little nervous around the computer but was still excited at the concept. I took it out to my apartment and connect it to the wifi. I loaded Youtube and, remembering her typing speed, did a search for 'Fashion'. Interestingly she kept up the illusion even when working on the laptop, giving the impression that she was curled up on the floor rather than just floating the gloves to the keyboard. With a bit of help she picked up how to use the track pad well enough and soon was working her way through a series of videos.

Setting aside the fact that I might be encouraging internet addiction as a solution to my problems, I took advantage of her distraction and returned to my workshop. I needed to get that bike in working order and install enough systems to keep my riding stable and provide some measure of cape support. I had barely started when Garment returned to the workshop and beckoned me outside.

She had a video loaded and was pointing to the section under it that said "Log in to comment or rate this video'.

This was a complexity I hadn't anticipated. "You want an account?"

There was a positive gesture. I got where she was coming from, but the idea made me uneasy. Considering the alternative was confining her to isolation I decided it was worth the risk.

"You'll have to be very careful." Before she could respond I continued. "Very, very careful. You can't say anything that will lead back to us, or share anything. Uh, I can probably obscure our location and set things up for safe browsing, but you shouldn't test that. Stay on this site for now and let me see the comments before you send them."

With her agreement I set to work. I dug into the best of my technical skills to manage a proxy chain that would hold up to most casual inspection, then set up and account. Her 'name' wasn't taken, so she was officially online as GarmentGloves.

I navigated back to the video and gave her the keyboard. She slowly began picking out letters.

D...U...L...L

She sat back and gestured to the screen.

"That's it?" Her reactions indicated that said enough and anything else would be too much work. I posted the comment and Garment navigated to another video and began typing once more.

C...H...I...C

I looked at the word and her satisfied movements.

"Are those what you want to say?"

She was affirmative and fairly smug about it.

"Anything else?"

There was a shrug and a dismissive gesture to the keyboard.

"Alright, if that's what you want I can leave you to it as long as you can keep it short. Remember, no personal details."

With her dismissive gesture and typing speed I didn't imagine she'd be sending her life story to anyone in the comments section. I left her to the laptop and headed back. Interestingly she didn't seem to be getting any better at finding letters on a keyboard and took the same ponderous approach every time she typed a reply. I really need to get her a typing course or computer class or something.

On my way back to the workshop I felt the Celestial Forge move and the last constellation I had yet to identify came into reach. My power was able to link to the smallest of the motes, but with it I could classify both it and the constellation.

The final constellation was called Magitech. It dealt with the integration of magic and technology. At this point I was pretty well past the concerns I had about magic. I could carve runes, make potions, and had a possessed set of gloves binging youtube videos in the other room. I wasn't going to get caught up on the semantics of what my power was calling things. Whatever reality warping power capes used also seemed to fall under that category, so it would all come out the same.

The new ability I received was called Mechanist. It came with some decent mechanical knowledge, middling by my standards but still somewhat useful. The big thing was the knowledge of magitek.

Ok, since I was just talking about semantics I need to break down the entirely arbitrary definitions I was working with. Magitech was the integration of magic and technology on any level. Magitek was technology specifically powered by magic. There were some advantages, things that were possible when using magic as a power source, but mostly it was just machinery that ran on magic rather than chemical, thermal, or electrical energy.

When I say that it runs on magic I mean directly on the magical energy. If I built some magitek to draw from a lightning rune it's going to be pulling the energy that empowers the rune, not the electricity the rune is putting out. On one hand it means I could run the devices from any magic source, on the other I can't actually integrate the effects of whatever magic I'm using into the device. It's all just fuel.

Conceivably that principle of fueling machinery from any magical source could even include parahumans. There's a dark thought and that's another thing to file away in the 'too horrible to consider' drawer.

The level of understanding I had gotten from this mote was pretty basic. I would only be able to build simple devices, but that should be enough for a power source. I could use this to finally sidestep my energy problems. All I needed was a concentrated source of magic and I would be able to power just about anything. The only question was what I would be able to use?

My runesmithing would let me make a weapon that could provide a decent level of power. The connections would be difficult and I'd need a fairly large weapon to hold enough energy. If I wanted to run my bike from this I would basically need a zweihänder jammed in the engine. The new potions I could make would also count, but they would have variable power outputs and I couldn't accurately predict how long they would last. Plus they were so useful I'd hate to waste them as fuel. For the best option I would have to go to my original alchemy.

There was an alchemy formula I had never attempted that was Call Up. It creates a small crystal called a call bead. Call beads are links to massively powerful magical entities and allow free manifestation of their abilities to anyone who expends the crystal. The process of linking them and the implications of the power would have scared me off the concept even if the components weren't so difficult to obtain.

But my new ability was designed to work with a crystalline material called magicite. Magicite was, somewhat distastefully, the concentrated remains of a powerful magical creature. Like a call bead it could be used to access the power of another creature. The principles for integrating magicite into a device should, in theory, work for a call bead.

It won't be as stable as a full magicite crystal. The call bead would degrade as it expended its power, but I should still be able to get a titanic amount of energy from it. At least as much as a magicite shard. The only problem is creating the beads.

The Call Up formula requires two reagents, meteorite and dry ice. I had pretty much written off getting either of those before I dealt with Tattletale. Along with all the essentials for crafting the knives I had been able to add all the reagents I hadn't been able to track down. The limestone block may have been an odd addition, but no one's going to find it strange for a tinker to ask for gunpowder, ethanol, dry ice, or meteoric iron. Well, strange by the standards of tinkers.

Because of that request a small freezer of dry ice and some pieces of meteorites had been included in my supplies. Now, I had a highly finite supply of these materials. I would be running on a very limited resource and probably only be able to make six or seven beads. But that thinking was from this morning, before I had gotten the ability to duplicate myself.

With my duplication potion I could copy all the materials I was holding. The copies could then use the Call Up formula and generate as many beads as they could before they dissipated or expended the reagents. As long as I could brew that potion I effectively had infinite magical fuel.

Unlimited Power!

But I still needed to prove the concept. I hadn't even seen a call bead yet. All this was theoretical. Furthermore I needed to calibrate the magitek device to the power source, so I at least needed a single sample to start. Also I didn't get any feedback from my copies. I needed a sense of how the beads formed in order to properly integrate them. No matter what I would have to make at least one call bead without the duplication potion.

As I prepared to combine the formula I felt my passenger's excitement building. Mostly the strong emotions were reserved for capes, but he was probably even more invested in the Celestial Forge. This would be a major step forward. Even if I had to do it with a specific type of technology this would address all of my power source concerns. No more worrying about fuel or the complications of building a micro-fusion reactor. How far I could take it would depend on my examination of the call bead, but this was a massively significant project.

I put on some protective gloves and collected a piece of dry ice and a chunk of meteorite. Carefully, in an open area of my workshop, I combined the two reagents. The formula glowed brighter than any had before. Rather than the light spreading out it condensed to a single point. Slowly a blue crystalline substance began forming around it until a bead about two centimeters wide was floating in the air in front of me. I placed a hand beneath it just as it began to dip and the tiny object fell into my palm.

On basic inspection it looked like a plain glass bead, but if you looked closely you could see the faint glow in its center. There was something both enchanting and terrifying about that glow, like you were looking at light shining through a tunnel from an unimaginable distance rather than being generated by the bead itself.

I had done it. I had a massively powerful magical object, one that should be able to run every system I could want from my bike. But now I needed to analyze it.

Unfortunately my Laboratorium would not be helpful with this. Actually, I'm going to reclassify that as 'fortunately' since that meant I wouldn't need to deal with the behatted cyber skulls just yet. The Laboratorium was designed to measure physical effects. It could measure highly obscure physical properties that I barely understood, but it couldn't actually gauge magic, only what magic could do. The most it was capable of was identifying when something was magical. Without activating the call bead it would be no help.

Instead I had to assemble a basic magitek calibration system. Fortunately all of my other abilities made this a trivial task and I completed what would have taken at least a day in less than half an hour. With the apparatus in place I could start to gauge what I was dealing with.

As an expendable item it seemed a call bead was capable of immense power output, but only for a short time. When I say immense I really mean that. In theory I could dump all the bead's energy in one massive burst, but it would completely destroy whatever system it was attached to. I just didn't have the materials or technology to channel that kind of power. What I could make would barely be able to handle one tenth of that. If I was going to use this as an ongoing power source rather than for massive discharges I was going to need to moderate energy flow to the slightest fraction of what it was capable of. Fortunately even at that diminished level it would be able to run every system I had considered installing on my bike while also keeping the motor at max output. For civilian operation the bead could last for months. If I took it into combat or ran serious systems from the engine then the lifespan would be severely diminished. By serious systems I mean the type of ECM jamming that normally comes from naval ships. This could even open up installed weapon systems, or that motoroid idea I had largely dismissed.

Though building something like that would require a lot of programing support.

I was also going to be limited to vehicles or large devices. The best magitek core I could build was the size of a small engine block. I didn't have any powers that would help me shrink that down, so this kind of power source would be limited to things big enough to accommodate something like that. Bikes, robots, and base systems were on the table, handheld devices were definitely not. If I wanted to run a man portable device off this kind of energy it would require a Ghostbusters backpack for the power source.

This also wasn't going to be as easy as shoving a call bead into my bike's engine. Magitek meant every aspect of the device was powered by magic. The engine wasn't driven by an exploding fuel air mixture, it was turned by magic. The lights weren't powered by electricity from a battery or alternator, they were powered by magic. Various auxiliary systems weren't maintained by power transfer from belts, pressure, or gears. They all ran on magic. The energy was basically a cheat mode for all kinds of complicated technology. I could even build a magitek cogitator to imprint control procedures onto directly, allowing high functioning automation without any use of microprocessors.

That last application was beyond me for the moment. It was at the very limits of my skills with magitek. Also, without a preexisting control program to work from I would be flying blind and could easily end up with a rampant machine. Instead I would need to install an alternator to run a series of electrical systems. That would allow the control program to run in a normal computer environment. It would add extra complexity, but also allow much easier development of the support system.

I had to completely rip apart the motorcycle and start fresh on a new engine. With my powers that was utterly trivial and the bike pretty much flew apart. In addition, my Rationing ability allowed me to squirrel away every part, linkage, and potentially useful scrap material. Anything I ended up dumping from the bike I would be able to find another application for later.

As I was working I felt the forge again. This time it connected to a small mote from the Resources and Durability constellation. It was called Repair Savvy. In addition to even further boosting my mechanical skill it enabled me to make repairs for all of my weapons, armor, and personal equipment drastically easier. Maintenance for them would take minutes instead of hours. It didn't help with design or new construction, but corrective work, assembly, or minor modifications could be accomplished in a flash. Combined with my other abilities I might even be able to work fast enough to repair equipment in combat situations.

What counted as personal equipment was somewhat arbitrary. Cars or other large vehicles didn't, nor did anything that had to be installed into a location. A laptop would, but a server wouldn't. A desktop was right on the line and would see very marginal benefits. Motorcycles were in a similar situation where the application was mixed and therefore marginal.

However, if I did that motoroid conversion it would suddenly completely qualify for that power's effect. At that point it would fall into the armor category as well. A motoroid counted as very heavy power armor. It was just on the border between power armor and mecha, but it still counted. Incredibly it was right at the limit of what my duplication formula could copy in terms of personal equipment. That meant drinking a duplication potion while in armor mode would provide all of my copies with their own sets of power armor.

I would still need to sink the time in for design and construction, but I could churn out something barely functional and then get Repair Savvy's acceleration on all maintenance and refinement processes. It was unbelievable that I could drastically accelerate the construction of my bike by adding the ability for it to transform into a suit of power armor.

At times like this I really, really loved my power.

I mean this was cheating, but it was cheating in a way that is practically an engineering tradition. This is the principle of something absolutely, totally being completed by the deadline, it just needs a few touch ups. Over several months. At a cost equal to half the original project budget. It was the equivalent of the 'fix it in post' or 'patch it later' mentality. I was kind of proud that such a core element of design and construction was included in my power set.

All I needed to do was build something that technically qualified as a motoroid.

My powers already allow me to work blindingly fast while operating to an impeccable level of quality. When I pushed myself to get something just 'functional' as quickly as humanly possible, well let's just say things were happening in the workshop that defied grace, dignity, and the laws of nature. I'm pretty sure I could feel my Decadence power crying at what was unfolding before me. Strangely it was my Black Thumb power that was really shining through. I may have been driven to a bit of maniacal laughter as I took a hammer to the cycle frame in order to wedge in a magitek drive converter. Hastily built thaumic servos were shoved into gaps cut in the structural metal with my monomolecular pen knife and roughly welded into place. Anything not necessary for it to qualify as a bike or a motoroid was left out. The control system was nothing but a hastily coded series of servo operations connected to a hotwired laptop.

The entire thing was a mess that the combined efforts of both of my style perks couldn't save. When it was finished the bike actually looked worse than it had in the lot. The casing didn't fit together, the wheels were off alignment, the shocks had been torn off, and the seat was a mess of jagged metal. With a great deal of apprehension I activated the transformation. Sparks of thaumic discharge scorched the floor and nearby equipment leaving streaks of soot that glowed faintly green. The bike lurched like it was having a seizure, then slowly started to split in a way that reminded me of a John Carpenter film. I was half afraid it would fall apart on the spot, but with a series of shudders and no shortage of discharged magical energy eventually it pulled itself into a vaguely humanoid form.

It was hideous. The thing looked like a design that had been rejected from one of the Earth Aleph Transformers movies because theaters didn't want to deal with the inevitable nausea it would trigger in their audiences. It was like someone asked 'what would happen if a robot could get cancer and herpes at the same time?' and then turned the answer into a modern art sculpture. It looked like someone had taken the results of an industrial lake dredging and sculpted them into a mockery of the human form.

With a final shudder the armor opened up revealing the compartment for the driver. There were continuous sparks of thaumic energy jumping back and forth inside it and the whole thing had a wet and greasy look. Enough spikes and loose wires were present inside the compartment for it to easily have been mistaken for a medieval torture device.

With a spray of hydraulic fluid from the outside of the right leg the entire machine began to list to the side. I watched helpless as the hulk tipped past its point of no return and impacted the ground with the sound of a plane crash.

It was hideous, but from the feel of my power it was just enough to qualify for my latest ability. That meant I could do repair and maintenance work at such an accelerated rate I would be able to get it in top form in no time. And as long as no one saw it at this stage I wouldn't have to admit to falling into the worst of newbie tinker design practices.

Of course that was the exact moment when Garment rushed into the workshop. I suppose an event that sounds like a demolition derby meeting a trash compactor will attract some attention. On one hand it was a relief to know that she would have been there for me in the event of an accident. On the other hand the way she reacted when she saw what I'd done to my bike made me feel like she had caught me doing something indecent.

I didn't know a set of animated clothes could look like they were about to break into tears. She ran off in horror before I could say anything. Eventually I found her in the Labratorium surrounded by the nicer dresses she had made. It was as if she was trying to create a barrier against bad taste.

She met my attempts at an explanation with accusatory stares. Well, accusatory body language. When I promised I could fix it she made a dismissive gesture and went back to checking the seams on one of her gowns.

Suddenly I felt like I was performing a penance. I returned to the workshop and looked down at the twisted mess of a motoroid. Yeah, that definitely counted as a sin against nature. And on the scale of sins against nature I was guessing this thing would be near the top of the list. I got to work.

There are varying levels of maintenance, from tune-ups to minor services to overhauls. What I was doing here was about two steps past a complete rebuild. It only technically counted as maintenance because there was a physical object that I was working on.

The Greeks have the story of the ship of Theseus that was maintained by replacing every damaged component until none of the original ship remained. What I was doing here didn't go quite that far. I was keeping the tires.

Machinist would let me completely rebuild an aircraft in a single night. I was currently working about a hundred times faster than that. I was leveraging levels of technical understanding I had never explored while moving faster than should have been humanly possible. My Rationing power kept even a single bolt from going to waste as parts were replaced, refurbished, or full on fabricated. I swear I could feel blisters forming on my fingers. My muscles ached and head spun from how quickly I was moving.

The electronics were reworked. Software was transferred from the laptop to a custom made control computer. It was then deleted and rewritten with a prototype neural net designed to train itself in vehicle control. It was wired into the magitek systems with properly calibrated adapters rather than the equivalent of penny fuses that I'd been using before.

Through it all I was letting my style powers run rampant. Everything was being designed to an impeccable standard. I was really feeling like I needed to make up for my earlier performance, despite still believing the rushed quality of the early work to be fully justified.

When I took a short break for some lunch I found Garment had made her way back to the laptop and did her best to convey the idea that she was glaring at me while I ate. During lunch my power missed a connection from the alchemy constellation and my reach continued to grow. I powered through a quick meal to the sound of red carpet fashion commentary followed by the slow typing of a one word comment.

Really, really needed to get her a typing class.

After I cleared my dish I was right back to work. Systems were rearranged, tuned, refined, and tested. The control program was put through pathfinding and dexterity tests. Key components and structural pieces were replaced with custom formed hyper alloys. The entire magitek core and drive system was rebuilt from the ground up to improve efficiency and peak output. Every part that had been overlooked or ignored in the previous build was added in exquisite quality. The entire assembly was precisely aligned, polished, and presented in the best and most efficient manner possible. Even the seat was perfectly aligned for both comfort and control.

By the time I was done it was early afternoon. I had spent nearly two hours on the overhaul, which was accelerated to about two hundred hours thanks to my power. But that was two hundred hours at my typical level of proficiency and accelerated work. For a normal person that would be... I have no idea. Normal people don't do this kind of project. Not without a team of experts and an extensive research budget.

The point was that despite the rough start I had managed a bike that would have taken weeks of work in a few hours. It was light on support systems or weaponry, but was more advanced, refined, and powerful than anything I would have dreamed of having ready at this point. I checked on the progress of the control program. This is something I'd envisioned as a fleet management program for when I had multiple vehicles to operate. Right now it was learning motorcycle operation through simulated scenarios, but eventually it would be capable of piloting assistance for anything I could build.

I would definitely need that assistance because this bike was fast. It was fast on a level that normally required a streamliner body shape and miles of salt flats to pull off. I was cheating with advanced knowledge of wind resistance and some variable geometry in the paneling, but this thing could definitely break three hundred miles per hour. Not that I would ever see those speeds inside the city, but it was incredible to think I was operating on the level of Armsmaster's motorcycle, only with less gadgets and better acceleration.

Also my aerospace knowledge had let me break out some surprises for the motoroid form.

Finally, it was good enough that I felt like I had made amends for my earlier design. When I left to get Garment she gave me some skeptical gestures, but reluctantly came along. When she saw the rebuilt motorcycle she approached it with the attitude of a dog show judge. It was carefully observed from every angle. The material of the seats was evaluated. Exposed machinery and wheel wells were checked. She stepped back and made a 'continue' gesture.

At my prompting the bike began to transform. This time it was smooth and seamless. Within a second there was a robot standing where the motorcycle had been parked. The wheels were positioned above its shoulders exposing the integrated turbine blades with variable angles of attack.

Yes, it could fly. No, it would not be flying. My experience with piloting was nonexistent and the fleet program was still trying to learn 'motorcycle'. With a lot of simulation and practice it could be an option in the future, if I didn't mind significantly stressing the machine's energy reserves. Until then it was just future proofing, though in a pinch it could provide a jump assist. If I was lucky I might even be able to land somewhat gracefully when I used it.

Once more Garment did that show judge thing, moving around and evaluating the robot from every angle. I had a feeling she wasn't sold on every design choice, not for quality, probably for style reasons. She did have a better handle on that kind of thing thanks to her powers. Still, she couldn't criticize the workmanship even if the design wasn't fashion forward.

When she backed off again I signaled the fleet program and the front paneling opened up. The pilot compartment wasn't anything like the nightmare it had been before. Parts of the seat were redistributed to cushion key points and everything was clean and ergonomic. I slid back into the armor and let it close around me. This was a bit weird as it was my first time driving it. I moved a bit unsteadily, but the fleet program kept me from falling. Garment gave me an approving gesture and motioned for me to continue.

Ok, this was the hard part, and if I had gotten any part of it wrong it could rip me in half. I mean, I was sure I didn't get any part of it wrong. Like half a dozen technical powers were backing me up on that, but knowing how bad it could be if things did go wrong was still a bit nerve-wracking.

I had to rely on Fleet to coordinate most of this. With two short steps the armor leapt into the air and shifted around me. With a slam of shocks I landed, seated on the back of the fully transformed motorcycle.

It worked. And I hadn't even dislocated an arm. Excellent.

Garment was clapping and I finally felt I had redeemed myself for earlier this afternoon. She did approach the bike and run a glove over the unpainted metal of the paneling then made a quizzical gesture.

"Right, I wanted to talk to you about that." I climbed off the bike and moved to one of the workshop's tables. "Your material summoning thing can generate dyes, right?"

She made an obvious gesture.

"Ok here's my idea. Originally this was going to be my civilian identity bike, but it got a bit away from me."

She sarcastically indicated a small amount with one hand.

"Yeah, I know. So I had to choose between cape vehicle or civilian, but then I had an idea." I showed her the plans. "I built variable geometry paneling to help control air flow and drag, but that means I have limited control over the shape of the bike."

I signaled the fleet program and the panels shifted around, contracting and expanding, changing angle. In the span of a few seconds they were able to create the impressions of three different shapes of motorcycle.

"That's not enough to fool people, but if you can generate some thermochromic pigments I should be able to alter them to respond to the magitek drive. That will let the bike change color. That way when it changes shape it will appear completely different. I can ride it as a cape and a civilian and no one will make the connection." I'd also have to fold away the license plate, but that was trivial with all the other modifications.

She looked thoughtful, then rubbed a thumb and forefinger together. I should really learn to expect this.

"Fine, what do you want for it?"

She gestured towards the paneling on the bike, then to herself.

"You...want to choose the colors?"

She gestured in the affirmative.

Well, she would probably do a better job than me. "Ok, it's a deal."

She waved a negative with one hand and indicated two fingers with the other.

"You want something else? What?"

She ran over to the bike and jumped on the back of the seat, then made motioning gestures with her arm.

"You want, you want to go for a ride."

That triggered a bout of excitement.

I looked at her awkwardly. "Uh, there might be a problem with that."

To that she gestured to herself, then to my helmet, then seemed to indicate a full body.

"You can cover up?"

There was even more excitement at that.

That could actually work. Biking gear with a full face helmet was one of the few outfits in which she'd be able to pass for normal in the outside world and interact with people. I looked at the door. I didn't want to keep her prisoner, and she'd already subjected herself to half a day of youtube's fashion community for a hint of escapism. I doubted that would hold her forever.

"Ok, it's a deal. Work out the cost for what you need. Oh, and while we're out we can find a place to properly store your clothes."

She gave me a quizzical gesture.

Why? Because those skulls in hats are going to give me nightmares. "Because I don't think the incense in there is good for the fabrics."

She froze and looked momentarily panicked. She gestured emphatically, indicated two hundred dollars. As I was getting the cash she hastily, but still to a great standard of quality, drew a painting guide on the plans for both versions of the bike. As soon as she had the money the pigments appeared and she ran off to save her wardrobe.

As I was working on applying and modifying the pigment I felt the forge again. This time it was the Quality constellation and I connected to a small mote called Stylish Mechanic. In addition to giving me even more mechanical proficiency it provided another boost to design skills. Not only would everything I fixed look clean and pleasing to the eye but it opened up a bunch of weird and awe inspiring design possibilities without compromising function.

All together it was a fairly minor ability, but still compounded with the rest of my powers. My level of mechanical proficiency was approaching ridiculous heights and I had no idea if there was even an upper limit.

The painting process still counted as maintenance, so I blazed through it. Apparently my powers could even cause complex compounds to set faster if it wanted to. Not that I was in any way complaining about the convenience.

Garment had picked a white body color with blue highlights for the civilian mode and a rough extension of the black, grey, and silver of my costume for cape mode. It definitely came together better than what I would have chosen.

I exited the workshop to find all of Garments clothes piled in the entry room, and all of my clothes and a good amount of my furniture back in my apartment. She looked very pleased with herself.

"Ok, are you ready to go?"

She held out a finger, then gestured for me to stand back. I did so and with a flourish material began to appear in the air around her. I had never watched her make a complete outfit from scratch before. The effect was fascinating. The materials just appeared out of thin air as they were needed. Thread stitched itself into seams as it was conjured. Nothing was summoned as a completed item of clothing but some small pieces like zippers, snaps and buttons appeared completely intact.

The outfit came together one piece at a time. A white turtleneck sweater was assembled at blinding speed. Then a set of motorcycle leathers, jacket and pants both in pink and white. Probably with more detail and intricacies to them than I would have bothered with for a disguise. She then made a pair of boots in the same colors and watching those assemble themselves from based components was fascinating. Finally she conjured the components of a pink helmet with a mirror visor, assembled piece by piece in front of me.

It was interesting to watch, but it also meant she could summon synthetics, plastics, and any number of other materials. Nothing high tech by the look of things, but still an incredible resource I'd be able to draw upon.

With everything created she began rolling down the cuff of her opera gloves to transform them into something more conventional. I knew everything was just show and there wasn't really anything but suspended clothing between the gloves, but she had put so much work into the illusion that watching her 'change' her clothing somehow felt intrusive.

"I'll just be in the workshop."

I retreated to the pocket dimension and looked at my motorcycle. It was beautiful, and not just because of my style perks. It felt like the first proper piece of technology I was responsible for bringing into the world. Like a real tinker I had taken an ordinary vehicle and turned it into something terrifyingly powerful.

It also occurred to me how terrifyingly powerful this thing actually was. The original bike had a fairly strong engine, but now it was running from a magitek converter drawing energy from a crystal linked to the realm of passengers. I was taking what might be the most powerful bike in the city out with nothing but a half trained A.I. to stop me from laminating myself to the side of a building on a single missed turn.

I considered the soccer shin guard I was wearing under my now designer jeans. That would not cut it. I needed something better.

God bless that Rationing power. Because of it absolutely nothing had been wasted in the construction blitz I'd just put myself through. I had burned through most of the stock of metals I needed for hyper alloys but with every scrap saved and recycled there was more than enough to build a replacement for the plastic padding in my shin guard. Luckily this counted under my maintenance power, so I was able to complete the work blindingly fast. I even improved the fit to make it less obvious that I was wearing a shin pad under my jeans.

I felt the protection increase. The way my Fashion ability's reinforcement worked was oddly intricate. I had higher resistance to initial damage from the harder hypermaterial of the shin pad, but the bulkier build of my bracer let me absorbed more abuse. It was hard to explain, the best analogy would probably be to think of it like an RPG with armor and hit points. It meant there was still an advantage to large and bulky protective items.

One aspect of that power I had been overlooking was the fact that it took the most superior properties of the protective items I had equipped. It wasn't that useful when I was scrounging for materials and couldn't have done any better than strapping a chunk of steel to my body. Now that I had proper supplies there was the potential for multiple pieces allowing combined protection. One for hardness, one for compression resistance, one for bulk, one to be chemically inert, one for heat resistance, and so on.

The only problem was that the pieces would share protection with me and my clothing, but not with each other. I could make a panel of tantalum hafnium carbide that would keep me safe up to seven thousand degrees Fahrenheit, but every other protective item I had would have melted or probably boiled away long before then. Composite defenses would be useful, but I needed to remember it would never be perfect invincibility.

Garment rushed into the workshop now 'wearing' her pink and white motorcycle outfit, though without the helmet. She frantically gestured for me to follow her and led me out to the kitchenette. My cellphone was ringing.

I looked over at the caller ID. Dr. Campbell. My guts wretched. He was not actually one of the people I had made a point to cut contact with after my trigger event. Actually he had probably been one of the more stable influences in my life. Still, the thought of talking with him brought up a wave of anxiety that I desperately wanted to put off.

When I didn't immediately pick up the phone Garment gestured to get my attention and pointed towards it. When I still didn't take it she started tapping the 'Dr." part of the name on the display. Eventually the relentless concern and effort she was displaying broke down my resolve. I pulled the phone off its charger and answered the call.

"Hello?"

"Good afternoon Joe. This is Dr. Campbell."

"Good afternoon."

I felt my power fail to make a connection to the Alchemy constellation and ignored it, staying focused on the call.

"I'm calling to confirm our session tomorrow afternoon."

I let out a breath. I had completely forgotten about that. I was still under my parents health insurance thanks to the technicality of a clause about 'college enrollment' that would be active until the end of the year. There was a limited allocation each quarter for therapy, so I hadn't seen Dr. Campbell since early March.

If I was honest those four weeks without checking in probably had no small contribution towards the conditions of my trigger event.

"Uh, I'm not sure I'll be able to make it."

I didn't want to go. I didn't want to get back into any of this. I was fine. I had moved on. And I had important work to do. Bakuda could attack at any time. Every minute of preparation increased my chances to contain the damage, maybe even prevent it. I couldn't take time away from that.

"Joe, I heard about what happened a couple of weeks ago. I think it would be a good idea to check in and make sure you're doing alright."

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

Of course. Of course he'd want to talk about my trigger event. This, I could not deal with this. Not now, preferably not ever.

"Actually I, I'm doing a lot better. I don't think..." I dropped off. I didn't even want to talk about this, much less think of it.

"Joe, I've always said your commitment to your recovery was extraordinary." Yeah, for all the good it did. "It's wonderful that you're doing better," he didn't sound like he'd been completely convinced that I was actually 'doing better'. Stupid insightful doctors. "But it would still be a good idea to touch base and make sure you're on good footing going forward."

God damn it I didn't want this. I was doing fine. Since my trigger I had... I had leaned on my passenger so much I ended up building weapons for supervillains. I had nearly fallen apart the first time that relationship was called into doubt. I had gotten in massively over my head and was scrambling to try to keep my head above water.

I was not doing fine.

I felt the gentle reassurance of my passenger. It had become obvious that the link was a double edged sword, but it did try to push me towards healthy behaviors, and right now it wanted me to go to therapy. I flinched as I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see Garment doing her best to convey concern through body language.

Why did I have to be surrounded by supportive people who wanted the best for me? I swear, if my driving A.I. started expressing concern for my mental wellbeing I was giving up on this whole cape thing.

I sighed. Just last night I had been laying this out to Amy. Everything I had learned suggested that mental health was not the priority it should be in the cape community. If my passenger was right then Director Piggot was most likely traumatized and unstable. Brandish had issues from childhood that she was now inflicting on the next generation. Amy needed serious help and just wasn't getting it. Could I be critical of them and neglect my own health?

Yes, I would just need to be a giant hypocrite filled with self-loathing and blatant contradictions.

If I went I would have to talk about my trigger event. I could probably dance around the cape stuff, but the rest of it... God I did not want to do this.

I felt my passenger's concern and looked at Garment's worried gestures. I took a breath.

"Ok Dr. Campbell. I'll be there."

"Thank you Joe. I'll see you tomorrow."

I hung up the phone and felt the life drain out of me. It was probably for the best. Not dealing with this would only set me up for bigger falls later. But I hated every aspect of it, including the fact that I hated it. Recursive self-hatred was a wonderful thing. But Dr. Campbell was so insufferably nice and supportive that there was no way I could skip out now. He was probably the only competent person I had seen through the whole mess and I owed it to him.

I could spare an hour tomorrow evening. I doubted anything serious was going to happen on Saturday night.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The mood whiplash from the joy of having completed such a big project to all of this being dredged up was jarring. I wasn't sure how to deal with it.

Garment crept towards me. She was holding a beautifully made white motorcycle jacket with a bomber collar, and what might have been my helmet after she had gotten through fixing the fit, design, and color scheme. She gingerly held them out like an offering.

I gave her a weak smile.

"Alright. Let's go for a ride."

Jumpchain abilities this chapter:

Mechanist (Final Fantasy VI) 100:

You know how regular technology and magitek function and can repair it if it breaks down. You'll still need the tools and supplies, but at least with this you'll know what you're doing with mechanical technology. This knowledge can be used to build basic examples of it too, but don't expect to be able to copy anything too complex without getting your hands on the blueprints.

Repair Savvy (Outlaw Star) 100:

Your skills in mechanics are top notch. Your weapons, armor, and personal equipment are all easy to repair, and maintenance of all of them takes mere minutes instead of hours.

Stylish Mechanic (Gurren Lagann) 100:

In addition to knowing how to repair and create mechanical devices you also have quite a knack at making anything you work on look good. Any time you fix something it'll end up clean and pleasant to look at, and you can easily come up with humorous or awe-inspiring designs for vehicles and devices.