Weld suppressed any reaction to his current situation, falling back on his extensive public relations training. It wasn't easy. Generally these things were better planned and exectuted, but like everything since he touched down at the Brockton Airport this morning the event had a sense of desperation that was highly unnerving.
"Damn it, this isn't going to work. I'm getting nothing but glare."
"We could wait for a cloud? Something to diffuse the light?"
"Look around. You see any clouds? We'd need to get a screen set up, and that's not happening. Whose job was it to read the weather forecast?"
"It was supposed to be good light for the photoshoot!"
He ignored the bickering of the publicist and photographer. As one of the more photogenic Case 53s he had done more than his share of publicity work, promotions, and even some acting. He had seen this kind of thing before, but you never really got used to it. Out of all the things he had to deal with because of his 'condition' excessive glare when being photographed under bright sunlight was a fairly minor one. If he was back in Boston the PR department would have known how to deal with it, but it seemed Brockton hadn't had that level of foresight.
He'd been talking about the potential of a transfer with Director Armstrong for ages. It was clear what the purpose of it really was. The leader of the Brockton Wards was set to promote out of the program in a few months. It created a convenient leadership opening on a team big enough to be nationally relevant while small enough to be manageable. A perfect situation for someone to sweep in and make a name for themselves.
Weld was painfully aware of his trailblazer status among Case 53s. Some of it bordered on tokenism. First Case 53 to get a national ad campaign. First Case 53 to appear in more than a single episode of a TV show. Then there was that meme that just refused to die.
He understood how important it was, how much it meant to the rest of the Case 53s, or even just the 'monstrous capes' out there. Hunch, his teammate back in the Boston Wards, had practically worshipped him despite the fact that the boy's own physical traits would never let him 'enjoy' the spotlight like Weld did.
There were times when he hated the entire situation, but he'd learned to focus on the good things. He had a fresh start and a new team, even if the introduction and promotional shoot was turning out a little rocky.
"It's no good. We'll have to fix it in post."
"You think there's time for that? These are supposed to be circulating this afternoon. You want to leave the new leader of the Wards out of the publicity shots? Screw it, just slap on a tinted lense and we'll adjust the balance of the rest of the photos to match."
He held his position as the PRT employees bickered with each other. It was one of his lesser talents, but the diminished sensation in his skin coupled with the reduced physical demands of his body meant he could effectively hold a pose indefinitely. Well, not indefinitely, but longer than any photoshoot would require. Behind him the Protectorate Headquarters glistened in the same bright sunlight that was causing so many problems for this shoot.
The rest of the Wards, he hadn't been able to think of them as 'his team' just yet, had finished their own photos and were off interacting with the crowd, signing autographs, and generally doing their best to pretend that the entire hero framework of the city hadn't been turned on its head over the past couple of days. There was a particular flurry of activity around the purple costumed form of Flechette. As the other new arrival she had novelty value, though for a different reason than his own. She was decent at dealing with the public, not a natural but clearly someone who took their PR lessons seriously.
The performance of the Brockton Wards was a mixed bag. He could understand why they needed to play to the public, to show that things were alright, but something like this seemed callous so soon after Thursday's… event.
Event. Right. They still didn't have an official name for it, probably because most of the names people would default to involved too much profanity. That was the real reason for this show, a desperate attempt to get anything else circulating through the news cycle. He remembered the first time he had seen the footage from the end of that event. After that it was unlikely any cape battles involving wards would see a live broadcast for a long time. Generally you shouldn't have footage of an incident that would be inappropriate viewing for the age of the people involved in it.
They had brought the full roster out for this event, even Shadow Stalker, who had missed the mess at the bank. The girl looked incredibly out of place in the clear midday sunlight. The aesthetic of her costume clashed sharply with those of her teammates. The rest of the wards were in bright colors with smooth lines and clear angles. The designs fit in with the look of more prosperous parts of the city, the Protectorate Headquarters, the skyscrapers of the downtown area, the boardwalk.
In contrast she looked designed for the more decrepit parts of the city. The Docks, they had called it. Weld had only seen it while flying in, but the division was stark. Boston had its share of historic regions mixed with modern advancement, but there was a fundamentally different feel to it. Despite all the problems with Boston's older areas, particularly regarding traffic, there was a certain pride in them. With this city it was like they were ashamed of half their neighborhoods. Weld wondered if that sentiment bled over to the dark themed Ward who was only being approached by the most adventurous members of the public.
Next to Shadow Stalker the least outgoing Ward was clearly Browbeat. The hulking boy was a contradiction as he tried to avoid attention while towering over the rest of the team. Some people just seemed to hate the spotlight, and he appeared to be one of them. It was a bad combination for a Protectorate cape, even more so for the Ward's program where the bulk of your duties involved some level of community outreach.
Browbeat apparently had the only real victory to come from this mess, and was being touted as such, much to the boy's annoyance. He had at least destroyed one of the Undersiders' weapons before being taken out of commission himself. Weld had never seen so much emphasis being put on the damaging of a single piece of tinker tech, but with how dark the situation had turned out to be it was one of the few rays of light and was being played up for all it was worth.
It had bought the young cape a level of attention that he seemed at a loss for how to handle. Clockblocker, Kid Win, and Vista were engaging the public with jokes, autographs and harmless displays of their powers. Clockblocker froze an autograph pen while handing it back to a fan, then posed for a selfie with said fan and the suspended object. Vista was creating distortions behind her that it had taken Weld a while to realize were bringing the Rig into focus for anyone who wanted a photo. Even Kid Win was managing a bit of flash to his actions. Browbeat was doing nothing more than nodding and signing autographs.
At least for the rest of the team it was an encouraging shift from the mood that permeated the group when he'd met with them before the presentation. The team's faces had reminded him of after actions reports from encounters with S-Class threats. Between his meetings with Director Piggot and the Youth Guard investigator he'd barely had time for a quick series of introductions before they'd had to leave for the event. He hoped, seeing how things seemed to be turning around, that this posting wouldn't be as bad as it seemed.
Apparently he was not that fortunate.
"Well, that was a fucking waste of time."
The ride back to the PRT Headquarters had dispelled any hopes he'd had of this situation being easy to resolve. As soon as they were out of the public eye a black cloud seemed to settle over the team. Shadow Stalker was the only one who seemed actively hostile, which was odd considering she hadn't even been at the bank. Had she been close to Aegis or Gallant?
"Take it easy Sophia, it's part of the job." Clockblocker had been quiet since they boarded the vans and even this interaction seemed stilted and artificial.
"Yeah, well I wouldn't have to give up my day off if you idiots hadn't screwed up so royally."
Vista's face darkened. "That's not fair and you know it."
"Yeah right. Outnumbered them and had the element of surprise and you still fucked it up. Just because your crush ran off in shame you think it's 'not fair'?"
"That's enough." Clockblocker's tone was completely at odds with everything Weld had seen from his public persona. Sophia just shot him an ugly look.
"You think being third in line means anything? Piggot would rather bring in fresh blood than let a moron like you run things."
Weld bristled slightly as attention shifted towards him and Flechette. Of all the concerns that had caused his transfer to be rushed Clockblocker's leadership potential was certainly not among them. This wasn't good. He had expected an adjustment period, not this level of open hostility.
"That's not what this is about. You were out of line."
"No, what this is about is the rest of you fucked up so bad we've got that bitch from the Youth Guard sniffing around. Or am I the only one they've inflicted that on?"
"You're not." Flechette spoke up. "We both had meetings. It's standard practice after a major incident."
Sophia looked less than mollified. "Whatever. I need a shower. After that bullshit I'm swimming in this costume. Out of the way midget." The girl dumped her cape and mask on the couch and pushed past Vista towards the locker rooms.
Flechette looked conflicted as she watched the girl strut away. She didn't seem to be having any better luck connecting with the local team than he was. They'd known each other from training exercises, but Weld was reluctant to rely on that lest it cause and even worse dynamic between the new arrivals and the rest of the team.
Clockblocker let out a sigh before turning towards the two of them. "Sorry about that. Sophia can be a little intense."
"By that he means she's a gigantic bitch." Vista glared at the other Wards as if daring them to contradict her. Kid Win shrank away, Clockblocker just looked tired, and Browbeat diverted his eyes.
"Uh, I've got console duty for this afternoon. Better get on that." The bulky cape slunk off to the operations room while avoiding Vista's eyes.
"Yeah, I've got to get to my lab." His hand shifted to one of his forearms where a device Weld recognized as part of the boy's flying skateboard was mounted. When Director Armstrong had first shown Weld the footage from the bank he had been shocked at the destruction of tinker tech by the Undersiders' weapons. Even if nothing else happened the loss of a full suit of power armor and what was clearly Kid Win's most prized possession would have been a dire setback for the tinker and the team.
Then Aegis made his last desperate strike and suddenly no one was thinking about the loss of tinker tech anymore.
The team's tinker had mounted the damaged pieces of his board on the outside of his costume, turning them into an improvised set of bracers and greaves. Weld had seen him fiddling with exposed electronics or parts of the paneling when he thought no one was looking, occasionally moving a component from one part to another. The parts were somehow still active, which was remarkable in its own way. He'd seen bursts of thrust from the equipment that allowed bounding leaps onto the platform at the introduction and a trick where he held a fan's action figure floating in some kind of suspension field. He would say the cape was making the best of a bad situation, but he seemed genuinely engaged with the damaged components rather than mourning their loss.
As Kid Win peeled off part of his armor on the way to his lab Weld shared a wince with Flechette. The boy's exposed skin was a rainbow of unpleasant shades, yellow, purple, blue. Basically a giant bruise covered half of the cape's body. It was incredible he hadn't shown discomfort during the press conference or autograph session. Was he on painkillers? Clockblocker saw their reaction and broke in.
"Chris was with the director when Panacea dropped by. He missed out on the healing, and now, you know." He pulled off his mask and they could see his concerned expression.
Weld tensed and so did Flechette. By the looks of things Vista was well aware of the reason for their discomfort. The account of the encounter with the healing cape had been the most pressing driver for their transfer. It may have happened sooner or later, but it's unlikely Weld would have been rushed out with little preparation and a set of special orders from Armstrong.
"You're lucky to have a healing cape nearby. Even in New York there are only a few who can handle that kind of thing, and usually it's not worth the trouble of contracting them." The group's attention shifted to Flechette. "How is she doing since the incident? Have you heard anything?"
Clockblocker smiled at her and edged closer to Flechette. "From what I heard she slept for about eleven hours, then spent the day eating snacks and reading. Once she learned she wasn't getting out of there she kind of turned the whole thing into a mini-vacation."
Vista smirked. "They let you request stuff to see if there's a pattern, check for influences, that kind of thing. Unlimited snacks are pretty much the only good thing about being stuck in that tank."
Weld shared a quick glance with Flechette. Thanks to his nearly unique Manton interactions he didn't really have to worry about master effects, but he'd seen their impact on both teammates and other capes. It was unsettling seeing someone as young as Vista talk about Master/Stranger protocols so casually.
Clockblocker seemed as inured to the concept as Vista was. He closed the last of the distance to the new capes. "Uh, just wanted to say, despite what Sophia said there's no hard feelings about the transfer." Flechette's eyes darted towards the locker room, missing the darkening of Vista's expression. "I wasn't trying to challenge your authority or anything. I wasn't set to be leader for a long time, I'm just trying to help with this mess." There was a brittle edge to his smile and Weld noticed he looked fairly tired. The image of what happened to him at the bank, the close up of time frozen bugs invading his still conscious face, it would wear on anyone.
"Don't worry about it. We expected an adjustment period. This was short notice for everyone." There was a huff from Vista that the girl immediately tried to downplay.
"It's fine. We appreciate you trying to smooth things over." The time cape's smile warmed at Flechette's words and he nodded towards her.
"How are things going? You had any time to settle in yet?"
Flechette shook her head. "It's been nonstop since I got here. They don't even have permanent accommodations ready yet. I've got one of the overnight rooms upstairs assigned to me."
He looked confused. "You're not staying down here? I thought that was pretty common for Wards?"
Weld broke in. "Usually it would be fine, but, you know, Youth Guard."
"What's wrong with it?" Vista was digging through the fridge without leaving her place on the couch. The effect reminded Weld of an old TV with a messed up signal.
"Apparently there's a state law prohibiting renting an apartment without a window. They won't accept less regulation for a teenage cape than you get for a basement apartment. Hence, no natural light, no Ward accommodations." There were also some choice words about effectively sealing the team in a bomb shelter one level away from the villain cells. That hadn't looked good for anyone involved.
Clockblocker nodded along. "So you're set up for the moment, right? I can show you around the building if you like?" He had spoken to Flechette, but shifted his stance slightly to let Weld know he'd be welcome as well.
The girl shook her head. "I think I'll try to rest up for the thing tonight. Clean up, maybe catch some TV?"
The redheaded boy looked a bit disappointed, but rallied. "How about you?"
Weld shook his head. "I've got more meetings, introductions with the response teams, protocol briefings, then an appointment with Armsmaster." It was set to be an unpleasant afternoon, and not just due to the tedium. He looked over the collection of couches and armchairs. None of them would take his weight. Neither would anything in the quarters he'd been assigned. He doubted any of the conference rooms would fare any better. He'd have to stand through this whole mess, which just made all parties involved feel uncomfortable.
The other boy nodded. "Right, well I'll see you tonight." He wandered off towards the men's side of the locker rooms, leaving them alone with Vista.
Weld was ready to relax, but then he caught the look in the shaker's eye and saw the slight distortions at the edge of the room. Flechette tensed and he noticed her hand twitch towards her arbalest before she stopped herself.
"I know why you're here."
It should have been ridiculous, a twelve year old girl trying to look tough, but something about this situation told Weld he needed to treat this seriously.
"What do you mean?" The world was blurring in the corners of his eyes. It was a highly unsettling experience and he was clearly handling it better than Flechette, who looked ready to bolt. It was one of the side benefits of his biology. All his internal organs were solid metal. They didn't produce stress hormones like other people experienced. It created a life without highs, but also let him keep a level head in situations like this.
"Don't patronize me. I have more experience than most of the members of this team." More than anyone on the team now that Aegis and Gallant were gone, but somehow Weld didn't think pointing that out would be a good decision. "I know how these things go. There's always another reason." She pointed at Weld. "Boston." Then at Flechette. "New York." She smiled darkly. "I've read the transcripts."
Flechette cleared her throat. "It's not what you think."
"Oh? So you're not here to recruit Mammon?" She gave both of them an accusatorial glare. "Your departments didn't send you out with promises of amnesty and probably all kinds of other goodies for that monster?"
More emotions were breaking into her words as she spoke. 'Monster'. That was the result of a front line experience as opposed to the analysis from someone one city away. Weld could see condensation on the inside of her visor. He couldn't clearly see her eyes but he could only imagine what they would look like right now.
Flechette looked at him hopefully and he took a half step forward. His footing wasn't as stable as he expected, but he avoided reacting or looking down. Vista's shaker rating was definitely well earned.
"Amnesty is a standard Protectorate policy, particularly for cooperative capes. It's more effective at getting minor villains and villainous leaning rogues off the street than any term of prison."
"Minor Villains?" Her voice was thick with sarcasm. "So your plan is to stick a master in the middle of the Protectorate and hope for the best?"
"You've read the transcript, right? The signs aren't pointing that strongly towards master. If anything gets confirmed that will change things, and you know it."
"It doesn't matter. He still attacked Amy. He still made those murder knives and gave them out like it was nothing." Her voice dropped. "What if he gave them to the Merchants? Or the Empire? Do you know what the typical members of those gangs get up to on a regular basis? What they have to do to earn membership?"
"There's no indication that will happen." Flechette qualified. "With what he's done so far..."
"So far? What, did you watch it on TV and think it was bad? You didn't see the aftermath. You didn't see them loading parts of your teammate into an ambulance, or taking a circular saw to someone's armor after they were sealed in it like a coffin. You didn't see the nicest, most caring girl in the city limping off with a shattered hand. So what, you're just going to hand out absolution like it's nothing? Like nothing happened?"
Weld fell back into his training as he squared his shoulders and spoke. "Official department policy is to limit contact and report to headquarters upon encounter with the undesignated supply cape. No support, resources, or collaboration are permitted. If there were any other orders in play, particularly involving the legal aspects of an active case, we would not be at liberty to discuss them."
Vista grit her teeth as she looked between Weld and Flechette. "Fine, do whatever you want. It's not like it matters. Nothing ever does." With two steps through a confusing distortion of space the girl had crossed the rec area and slammed the door to her room in a way that for some reason left Weld feeling more like a frustrated parent that a leader of a team of superheroes.
"Well..." Flechette drew out the word. "That could have gone better.
Weld slumped. "Tell me about it. I'd heard stories about this town, but before that news report, before seeing it in person, I don't think I really believed them."
She nodded. "Apparently it's the highest cape per capital in the country, excluding small towns where entire teams set up."
"High rate of local triggers, then the cape community draws in more capes. How long has this been snowballing for?"
Flechette shrugged and pulled off her visor. Without the mask he could let himself think of her as Lily again. It was good practice for not messing up names in the field. "Years? Decades? Depends on if you're talking about the current mess or the city in general." She slumped onto a couch, then looked over to him and realized his situation. She made to get back to her feet, but Weld waved her off. At least one of them should be able to relax.
"I thought I knew what I was getting into, but these guys have seen way more combat that any Ward is supposed to. In Boston unless you're a serious brute they sideline you from anything remotely dangerous." Weld happened to count as a 'serious brute'.
"Same in New York," She glanced off to the side. "Mostly."
"Mostly?" Weld moved around and leaned gently on one of the sturdier pieces of furniture. It sagged under just a fraction of his weight.
"Well, I have this villain..."
He smirked at her. "Show off."
She gave him and annoyed look. "Trust me, it's not what it's cracked up to be. Everyone wants a nemesis until they have to deal with them on a regular basis." She sighed. "Anyway, the brass vets any groups we're cleared to mobilize against. Nothing worse than the Undersiders, or the level of what their reputation was before all of this happened."
Her voice trailed off at the end of the statement and Weld nodded to her. There was still some debate on if the Undersiders would have stayed as reserved as they'd been known for if the Wards had handled things differently. It was all academic now, they had made themselves a priority threat and there was no going back from that.
Lily shook her head. "Anyway, it's actually sort of like what happened with the Undersiders."
Weld furrowed his brow. "How so?"
"She'd join up with one of the 'safe' groups and start pushing them towards higher profile stuff. She's a thinker-striker, good a coordinating people. The groups she joined would get a lot more brutal and effective until they were taken off the list of approved Ward engagements. Then she'd move on to the next group."
Weld grimaced as he pictured the chain of events. "Any chance she'll follow you here?"
She didn't look pleased at the prospect. "Who knows? This place is already crazy enough, so it's not really her speed. I can't really see her fitting in with any of the established gangs, though the thought of her in the Undersiders isn't exactly pleasant."
"I don't think they limit engagements here. Earlier Clockblocker was telling me about a time the Wards drove back Lung."
Lily clenched her jaw. "Vista? I saw her getting changed in the locker room. The girl has scars. Old ones." She looked towards the girls closed door. "It's no wonder she's like that. She's been front lining for years, and she triggered young."
"No wonder the Youth Gard is on the warpath."
Lily glanced towards the locker room. "What do you think of Shadow Stalker?"
Weld made a show of looking contemplative. "Well, I think you can do better than her."
She took a playful swipe at him. "You're an asshole. Seriously though, what's up with her?"
"I got a briefing, but there's not much I can talk about. She's on probation and has some bad stuff in her past. Started as a vigilante and apparently had a rough time of it." He shook his head. "I'm going to have to push for therapy for this team, aren't I?"
"If half of what I heard about this place is true I'm surprised it's not already mandatory."
"Are you okay with it? I can't allow any exemptions if I want this to go through?"
She nodded. "I can deal."
Weld noticed her glancing towards the locker room again. "So, still keeping that quiet?"
She shrugged. "It's less that it's a secret and more not wanting to deal with the press. Can't just be gay, I'd have to be an icon for the movement."
He frowned. "Tell me about it."
She nodded slowly. "Sorry, I forgot."
"Don't worry. I honestly prefer it when people do."
She smiled at him. "So, any details you're not allowed to share about the recruitment of a possible-tinker possible-shaker that we are definitely not supposed to refer to as Mammon?"
"I'm guessing the same as you, make contact and find out if he's serious about joining outside the city."
Flechette's expression turned grim. "I can tell you, the New York Protectorate wants that healing power. They want it bad. They're not sharing exact details, but the sense I've gotten is they've been run ragged recently. Between the Adapts and the Elite things have been bad enough, but apparently the Teeth set up a cell recently."
Weld nodded as things fell into place. "Butcher."
"Butcher Fourteen. Amongst all the other powers she deals festering wounds, that's from Butcher Four, and has perfect accuracy from her own ability. Add the fact that no one wants to risk lethal force and every encounter has bad injuries piling up. Not the biggest problem on its own, but the other gangs are taking advantage every time a cape gets knocked out of commission. They need a healer on staff to the point they're willing to forgive a lot worse thas what's happened here."
Weld considered things. "I think Panacea may have spoiled this city."
Lilly looked surprised at his statement. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, without her this place would have boiled over long ago. If your capes are out of commission for hours instead of weeks it lets you ignore how bad the problem is. Without her they would have needed to send in the Triumvirate ages ago, or at least some other relief force. Hell, just having half the Wards show up to school in Kid Win's current condition would have had this place choked by Youth Guard oversight."
The girl looked uncomfortable with the idea. "She couldn't make that much of a difference, could she?"
"From what I heard the girl overworks herself to an insane degree. I saw her at this charity gala thing once, it was for the anniversary of the Boston Games. She was dead on her feet and asleep before dessert. Apparently did a tour of cancer wards before the dinner and her sister had to drag her out of the Massachusetts General ICU."
Lily shook her head. "What about you? Anything you definitely aren't allowed to tell me?"
He grinned. "You're going to love this. Apparently Accord reached out to Director Armstrong before I left."
"About the new cape? What did he want? Is he trying to block recruitment?"
"All Accord said was that he would not oppose the new cape's presence in the city. From that guy it's practically a ringing endorsement."
"So what, he wants to fight someone with good design sense?"
Weld just shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe he's hoping to get enough of the new guy's work on the rest of the heroes to hold off his OCD, or whatever. It's not anything like a deciding factor, but Accord has been known to make life hell for capes who get on his bad side, hero or villain. With the Chain Gang picking up steam Armstrong would welcome at least one thing he didn't have to worry about."
Lily waved away the idea. "Probably would have an easier time up there than in this city, at least if Vista is any indication."
"Probably. Hopefully things will calm down in a few days."
She smirked. "Providing we're not caught in a gang war before then."
"I know this place has a reputation, but it's not like there's constant cape fights. We're probably due for a lull."
"Providing you didn't just jinx us."
"Sure." He stretched his back. "I've got to get going."
"Good luck." She smirked. "Fearless leader."
He waved her off and headed out to his PRT meetings, which proved exactly as tedious and awkward as he feared. Of course everyone apologized on behalf of someone else who was supposed to provide adequate seating. It was the same chorus through the afternoon as he familiarized himself with local response procedures, major initiatives, and Protectorate policies that he probably knew better than the people giving the presentation. It was honestly a relief to find himself in a van crossing the force field road access to the Protectorate HQ.
It didn't really sit right with him how divided the two sides of the organization seemed to be in this city. Having separate headquarters was common enough, but having one in the middle of the city and the other floating remote and inaccessible seemed designed to foster division. Weld had the sense that this situation had been developing for a very long time and, more concerningly, probably had politics behind it.
Weld exited the van to find a figure in blue and silver armor waiting for him. He recognized Armsmaster from promotional materials. Usually he was next to Bastion on the group shots of Protectorate team leaders. The van's shocks sprung back as Weld stepped onto the platform of the Rig. His eyes briefly flicked around at the massive amount of exposed steel he was surrounded with, acutely aware that one misstep would result in the lengthy and embarrassing process of extracting himself from the structure.
Suddenly he didn't want to move at all.
He was pulled from his apprehension by Armsmaster stepping forward and extending a hand.
"Weld? Welcome to the Protectorate East North East Headquarters. Thank you for joining us."
He glanced at the extended gauntlet ready to have to explain his situation when he noticed a slight film across the exposed metal. Actually, all of the tinker's equipment had the same barrier attached. It was a relief that at least someone had been prepared for his visit, but He wasn't sure about putting his faith in less than a millimeter of plastic. Still, this was one of the best tinkers in the country. He probably knew what he was doing.
Weld shook the extended hand and mercifully did not find himself fused to the gauntlet. The impurities he focused into his hands could help prevent involuntarily absorbing metal he touched, but they wore off quickly and there always seemed to be patches he missed. He really didn't want to show up to that night's charity event with half of Armsmasters gauntlet fused to his hand.
"I'd like to review some items with you, then we can depart for the Forsberg Gallery. PR thought it would be a good sign of solidarity to have the leaders of the Protectorate and Wards arrive together."
"Thank you sir. That sounds fine."
With a nod Armsmaster started walking, leaving Weld to follow, keeping a close eye on any exposed metal as he did. The precautions Armsmaster had taken had not been extended to the rest of the Rig, leaving the walk a harrowing experience. He knew he had enough space to walk down the corridor, but he couldn't help but scrunch his shoulders as he moved.
It seemed to take an eternity to reach Armsmaster's Lab. He was a little impressed they came here rather than some meeting room or office. He knew how protective tinkers could get about their workspaces. That just made him even more concerned about accidently fusing with something.
Weld relaxed slightly at the sight of a heavily reinforced plastic coated chair sitting opposite a work desk.
"Please, sit down." Armsmaster gestured to the chair as he settled behind the desk. Weld quickly sank into the seat. His body didn't get tired like a normal person, but there was a certain mental exhaustion that built up over the day. A chance to sit down and collect his thoughts was vital to his sanity, and this was his first opportunity since he disembarked his flight early this morning.
Armsmaster gave Weld a level look from across the desk. "Now, I trust you're aware of the situation this city finds itself in?"
That seemed a loaded question, but Weld seriously doubted he was looking for a critique of the local parahuman dynamic. So, in all likelihood he was discussing current events.
"Your capture of the leader of the ABB altered the power dynamic, so probably a conflict between local gangs or a possible new player. Additionally there's a chance for retribution from the remnants of the ABB. There's also..." How should he put this? "expanded hostility from the Undersiders in addition to the unknown factor of their equipment supplier."
The bearded man nodded. "Exactly. Brockton has seen gang conflicts before. The local forces are known to the Protectorate and skirmishes between them will be manageable. New capes, however, are an unknown and highly disruptive factor. The event at the bank proves as much."
Weld nodded. "I heard you were opposed to the idea of Khepri being the supplier of the Undersiders' weapons." Armsmaster sat slightly taller at that. "How did you figure that out?"
"Experience and intuition." He answered very quickly. "There are factors to this job that you can only pick up with time in the field." Weld nodded. He had hoped for something more tangible, but sometimes gut instincts were an important part of hero work. "Our main concern is the new cape. Widespread distribution of his weapons could be disastrous and seriously shift the power balance in the city."
Weld raised an eyebrow. "Sir, do you think that's likely? Judging from his interactions with Panacea..."
Armsmaster cut him off before he could finish. "Those are suspect until the Think Tank provides a final report. With an admitted association with Tattletale we can't trust anything said in that exchange. Unfortunately I've had to limit my analysis to physical evidence."
With a few keystrokes a rotating image of a curved blade appeared on the screen. The blade had a fracture where the handle would attach and Weld could recognize the shape of a Karambit from the numerous ones that had ended up as part of his body. Why people could see a metal cape and still decide to try a knife on him Weld would never understand.
"This is one of two samples of the capes work that we've been able to obtain. The edge..." A command caused the display to shift to a simulation showing atomic structure. "Is fully monomolecular, hardened with an unknown process that strengthens the atomic bonds and prevents the immediate decay that would be expected from such a structure. This allows the weapon to exert immense stress on its target, effectively shearing all but the densest materials without meaningful resistance." The display shifted to a series of material samples, all split with an unnerving smoothness.
"I've been briefed on the Undersiders' armaments."
"On their effects, yes, but there are additional aspects a work here." The display shifted again, showing a mock atomic structure. "This is amorphous metal, also known as metallic glass. A difficult material to create, this particular sample was simplified by its composition being precisely arranged to impede crystal formation..." The man seemed to realize he was losing Weld, and shifted to a summary. "The point is that the alloy used should be more reactive than is evident in the sample's behavior."
"So it should have rusted?"
The tinker snorted. "It should have oxidized to powder within hours of creation. Something is holding back corrosion and there's no discernable cause for the effect."
Weld could see where this was going. It didn't take a genius to figure out why a Ward who absorbed all metal that touched him was sent to a city where another Ward was just butchered with a metal knife. Theoretically he should be immune to these weapons regardless of how sharp they were. However if they had some unknown effect, whether tinker or shaker based, then who knows what could happen? He knew he could survive significant damage, at least as much as Aegis, but how much further would the Undersiders go?
Armsmaster must have been able to follow the chain of thought from his expressions. "With your permission I'd like to test a sliver of the sample against your durability and absorption powers. If anything will go wrong I'd rather we discover it here than in the field."
Weld could see the logic of it. He didn't like it, not after the amount of testing he'd had to endure as a Case 53, but it would be better to have it happen in controlled circumstances than deal with a magical mystery metal in the field. "How big a sample are we talking about?"
"Pieces were removed for edge mapping and spectrographic analysis measuring between 4 and 6 millimeters. We would use those in the tests."
Weld nodded. "I don't have a problem with it, but I'll need my guardian's permission."
"Director Armstrong, correct? I can reach out to him with the details to give you some time to discuss the matter."
"Thank you. Uh, could I see the samples?" Considering how often he'd had to deal with accidently absorbed objects it seemed silly to be nervous about this, but there were aspects to both tinker tech and shaker powers that could be a nightmare to deal with.
The man gave a professional smile. "Certainly, anything to assuage your concerns."
He led Weld over to a complicated piece of machinery embedded in the wall. He waited while Armsmaster worked a series of controls that caused small shifts and openings to move around in the device. Then he waited some more. Weld stood there watching Armsmaster work the controls with increasing desperation.
"Is something wrong?"
"They're not here." The Protectorate leader's voice was flat and lifeless.
"What?" Weld asked in confusion.
"The samples. They're gone." His body was stock still, an unnatural posture visible even through the power armor.
"Did you put them somewhere else?" Weld offered. "Or could someone have moved them?"
"I didn't put them anywhere else. And no one has access to this room in my absence." He turned suddenly and crossed the room in four long strides. There was a complicated series of motions and a portion of the wall folded open, extending a glass case.
An empty glass case.
"Is that supposed to be empty?"
"No. No it is not."
Weld could put the pieces together. "The knife?"
"Seemingly vanished."
"Someone stole it?" The implications were frightening.
The man shook his head. "No one could have gotten in here without tripping some kind of alarm. Not without serious mover, stranger, and breaker powers."
"Doesn't that new cape have a mover power?"
"It doesn't make sense. There are hundreds of more valuable things in here that someone could have taken. There's no reason to blow that kind of advantage over something this petty. Not unless..."
Once again he quickly crossed the room and began work on a console. A digitized face sprang up on one of the wall screens and an accented voice anyone in the protectorate would know began to speak. "Hello Armsmaster. How can I help you?"
"I need a status report on the metal sample I sent you." He asked, casually chatting with the most famous tinker on the planet.
"Just a moment. Oh, hello Weld. How is your transfer going?"
"Uh, just fine mam."
"That's excellent." The projected image on the screen seemed to be thinking. "Oh. Sample is not in its storage container. No sign of forced entry or unauthorized access."
"Last time the sample was confirmed present?" There was an edge of eagerness to his voice that seemed incongruous with the circumstances.
"Returned after an inductance test at 09:50 hours today. I'm guessing by your lack of surprise you can shed some light on this situation?"
"The main item and all ancillary samples vanished from my lab sometime in the last seven hours. There was no disruption of any other items and no sign of forced entry."
The digital avatar smiled. "So that means..."
"Shaker. Almost confirmed. We're looking at rapidly fading projections. I'd say thirty six to forty eight hours, possibly affected by external factors."
"I guess I owe you that drink. Of course, this means we could be seeing significantly more spread of the weapons, particularly if the cape is still getting a handle on his power. If he's unconstrained by tinker logistics there's no telling where his limits are."
"I'll start drafting up response scenarios." There was a chirp from the console. "Sending a report to the PRT with an updated assessment."
"I'll add my own as well, though this is just a data point, not a confirmation..." The image on the screen gave Armsmaster a sideways glance.
"Yes, yes, I know. Still, stronger evidence than anything so far." He turned and seemed momentarily surprised that Weld was still there. "I guess we'll have to hold off on testing for the time being."
"I'd recommend that." Offered Dragon's avatar. "Integrating shaker influenced material could have unpleasant effects."
"Yeah, I'd like to avoid that." He answered the projection nervously. It nodded at him and turned back to Armsmaster.
"I'll re-run some of my analysis with projection factors in mind, see what comes up."
"I'll check in with you after the Forsberg event."
"Looking forward to it. Nice meeting you Weld."
"You too." He replied somewhat awkwardly.
The screen blinked off. Armsmaster was still looking like Christmas had come early for a reason Weld couldn't quite place. Was a shaker that much less dangerous than a tinker? Sure, tinkers could be unpredictable, but a shaker could theoretically churn out weapons non-stop. That seemed substantially worse.
"Are you alright?" He seemed to have picked up on Weld's reaction.
"Oh, yeah, I'm fine." Weld struggled for something to say. "So, you have Dragon on speed dial?"
He tried to put a teasing edge into his voice, but it was either deliberately ignored or went over the tinker's head. "We've collaborated on a number of projects. She's a highly valued colleague."
Anyone else would have read into a grinning man saying a line like that, but Weld got the sense there was some critical lack of awareness happening here, possibly on his part, but more likely not.
"Sir, is the shaker classification really that big of a deal? I mean, compared to tinker…"
Armsmaster seemed to suddenly become aware of the smile on his face and quickly resumed his stoic posture. "I'm simply pleased to have my theories validated. Unknown factors are the most dangerous element of engaging a cape, and this addresses one of the most significant x-factors we've been dealing with."
"I see. So in the event that I encounter the cape or one of the Undersiders?"
"I would recommend avoiding contact with the weapons, which is not a deviation from standard engagement processes. Browbeat will be relied on to take point in those situations." He glanced towards a bench on the other side of the room. "I'm working on a solution to that problem in the same vein as his defenses, but it won't be ready for deployment before the next predicted action by the team."
Weld nodded. "Any idea when that will be?"
"The Undersiders were consistently opportunistic, but generally operated some level of engagement at least every sixteen days with a median of nine days between operations. Depending on the nature of their relationship with the new cape and the conditions of supplying their equipment there could be an increase in the frequency or scale of their operations."
Weld nodded along. "What about the other gangs?"
"The most serious interaction the Undersiders had was with the ABB. Remnants of that group might strike out against them, but it's unlikely to be a concern. Models indicate we're more likely to see a new player attempt to enter the dynamic than a serious upset from one of the existing parties."
Weld didn't know how the man could be so certain, but Brockton Bay was a lot smaller than Boston. With fewer teams in conflict over less territory it probably made predictions more accurate.
"Are you prepared for the Gallery Event tonight?"
"I did a good amount of this kind of thing back in Boston. Is there anything I should be aware of in this city?"
Armsmaster considered. "With a smaller population and comparatively larger cape community you tend to see the same faces at most of these events. Generally they have a good dynamic with the heroes, but occasionally you can get someone becoming overly familiar. It's easy to erode the public reverence most people have for capes when you're seeing them twice a month and paying hundreds of dollars for the privilege. Be careful of making a bad impression because you'll likely run into the same person repeatedly, but at the same time remember to set clear boundaries."
Weld was familiar with the concept, though generally someone who turned cape stalker got flagged and intercepted from major events. In a city this size that might not be as apparent or practical.
"We'll be entering together after the rest of the capes have made their appearance. The mayor will want to greet you personally, which will mostly be a photo opp. I trust you can handle it?"
"Yes sir, I..." The tinker held up an arm and rushed over to a terminal where a light had started blinking.
"Sir?"
"Radio contact from within the PHQ, non-Protectorate signal." He entered some keystrokes and the display shifted. "No sign of forced entry, but motion sensors are picking up some activity on the lower level."
Suddenly the room shook around them as the sound of a chain of explosions echoed through the Rig. Weld desperately lurched for the coated and reinforced chair to avoid fusing with any of the lab's exposed metal.
"What was that?"
"Series of detonations. We've lost internal sensors, central computer, and the main communications array." Armsmaster's fingers flew across the console's controls and data streamed over the displays faster than Weld could follow.
Weld froze. "Is it the ABB? Bakuda trying to break out Lung?"
Armsmaster shook his head. "I have a direct link to the cells. There's no sign of activity there. For the rest of the Rig there could be more damage, but I can't get a reading. I don't know what they're trying to..."
He fell silent as a black clad man in a demon mask appeared between them. He had a bulky plastic cast around his right forearm, but was holding a small metal object in his left hand. Weld could see a camera mounted on the cape's mask with a wire leading to an earpiece.
Weld watched in shock as the villain slowly panned his head across the lab, completely ignoring the two of them. Armsmaster sprang into action before the Ward's brain had even fully processed what was happening. He launched himself across the room, a halberd jumping from his back into his hand and extending to its full length. The tinker struck true, but the assassin just collapsed into a pile of ash. The two heroes watched in horror as a dozen copies appeared around the lab and hurled the object they were holding.
Weld expected a barrage of grenades. Instead he watched as the devices attached themselves to equipment all around the room. Armsmaster swore and started shifting his halberd to emit a crackling burst of static, but before the transformation could accomplish anything the explosions started.
Rather than traditional blasts these bombs seemed to fracture whatever they were attached to. The objects split apart like shattering glass, then launched the large shards out in every direction at blinding speed. What wasn't destroyed by contact with a bomb was sundered by the flying debris.
Unfortunately one of the pieces of equipment targeted was the work desk immediately adjacent to Weld. Even with his diminished sense of touch the barrage of flying metal rocked him to his core. He remembered the sense of movement and the lab blurring past him before the crash of metal and the sharp impact that muddled his senses.
As he regained his focus he became aware of the screech of alarms and what sounded like a fire. He tried to move but found himself pinned. And examination showed part of a wall, a structural beam, and a portion of some of the lab machinery all fused with his body. He couldn't even shift far enough to try to break the material holding him, and that might be a completely lost cause for the wall. The Rig was under attack and he would be spending the entire time trying to absorb the metal he was attached to. The only other option was to shear off parts of his body and try to crawl free, hoping he didn't fuse with anything else on the way.
His mind flashed back to his very earliest memories. Waking up in that scrapyard as little more than a head. No knowledge of who he was or what was happening. The weeks of isolation before he figured out his powers enough to assemble a semblance of a body and finally leave. That maddening loneliness and sense of inaccessibility. Without realizing it he had begun to desperately thrash against the material pinning him in place.
"Weld?" The voice was horse but hopeful. Armsmaster had survived the attack.
"Over here! I'm pinned by the wall!" He tried to keep the desperation out of his voice but too many memories were flooding back, bringing irrational fears with them. What if the Rig sank? He would be pinned under thousands of tons of metal, unable to move, working his way through it at a snails pace. How long would it take him to get free? Weeks? Months? Would he even be sane after something like that? Would people know to look for him?
Relief flooded through him as Armsmaster appeared through the smoke and dust. His armor was dented and Weld could see blood tracing down from his cracked visor to stain his beard.
"Are you alright?" His breathing was heavy and had a concerning wet sound to it.
"I'm trapped. I can't break free. I'm going to have to separate parts of my body, and I'll be useless after that."
"Hold on, this might..." He fiddled with a small object and a flickering cloud of gray mist appeared around it. Unlike a normal cloud it was completely static, holding its shape exactly and moving with the object. With a shaking hand Armsmaster brought it to the wall fused with Weld's body. A spray of metallic dust sprang up from the point of contact as anything touching the cloud disappeared.
Weld held himself as still as he could while Armsmaster worked, but the device gave out before the last of the beam could be cut away. Despite the tinker's desperate attempts the cloud refused to reform. He still had random pieces of rubble attached to his body, but he was mostly mobile again. He shifted one hand into an axe head and brought it down on the section of beam still fused with his leg. The beam sheared off, but took some of his leg with it. It was fine. An acceptable loss.
"Thank you." He looked up, taking in the state of the room and the Protectorate leader. "Are you alright?"
"Better than I could have been. He was targeting the lab, not me. What reports I've gotten suggest a series of surgical strikes, not random bombings. The ABB has never been this coordinated before."
Weld grimaced at the implications. The damage that could be inflicted...
"What do we do?"
The tinker pulled himself straight with a wince and examined the remains of a halberd. He disconnected most of the damaged handle and gripped the remaining portion like a hand axe. "Lung is still on the rig. Oni Lee can't teleport him off, meaning he'll have to fight his way back to the mainland. This is our best and only chance of keeping things contained. Can I count on you?"
Weld remembered being buried under the rubble, the fears and flashbacks fresh in his mind. But he also saw the protectorate leader in front of him, underequipped and struggling to stay on his feet. He knew what he had to do.
"Absolutely." His hands shifted into blades, the type he was prohibited from using against anything less than top tier threats. "Let's go."