* Monday, September 6, 2005 *

Taylor had hand-made her jacket. Taylor was damn good at design and making something look incredibly good, even if that ability was just one of the 'perk' things her power gave her.

It was designed perfectly for her, made of gray-and-blue striped leather (if that carnivorous dinosaur hadn't attacked their camp it wouldn't have died and just leaving the corpse there when you could make stuff out of it would have been wasteful) with blue-black metal latches. It also had a few gadgets in the lining. If someone stole it, they could track it down. If she pinched the tag and held it for three seconds, there would be terrible consequences for someone who tried to take the jacket forcibly from her.

As it was, it was too darn hot to wear it for long.

Showing it off anyway? Yeah, that was something she could do and something she wanted to do.

It was a new school year as of today, making a statement was required.

Ah, and here came her nerdy best friend who was looking a bit depressed. Probably because she was still going to school instead of hunched over her workbench making stuff.

Time for the duties of a best friend, teasing her until she got something resembling a smile.

Besides, with the new year - that meant 5th grade and Taylor could go on to that Shop class so she could make stuff during the school hours.

* Several hours later *

"-and that allows you to take a box-end wrench and make it adjustable. As a bonus, by tightening that bolt - if the edges of the nut are rounded off you can still grip it like so. It just makes the wrench a little easier to break in some situations, so don't do it to all of your tools."

"Nice," said the Shop teacher. "That said - just have the one available for emergencies. In the meantime, what's wrong with this car?"

"Nothing a few replacements wouldn't fix," said Taylor. "Carburetor needs a deep clean. There's a knock in number 4. Uneven wear on the tires, so that could be a couple of things - I'll have to check. Crack in the rearview mirror isn't a priority but it should be fixed anyway. Headlamps look fogged. Might need to replace the covers or a cleaning might fix that. It looks like the blinker fluid is low too."

"Carl, anything to add?"

That one student straightened up. "Uhm, no Mister Henderson. I think she got it all."

"Carl? There's no such thing as blinker fluid. You were checking out Miss Hebert's buttocks..."

"WAGH?!"

"...and while I appreciate you all are young men and women and developing attributes handled in another class, that's for another class altogether. This is Shop. It is very very important that you focus on what you are doing, not what you could be doing. Letting your mind wander in here could end up with you losing fingers or worse. Now, Carl. I want you to look over the car and see if Miss Hebert missed anything."

There was a brief pause.

"Miss Hebert. You are ten. You are in a class with eleven and twelve year olds. You are, by all accounts except that from Mrs Sales, a brilliant mind and you work regularly on cars from what I've heard. If someone actually gives you trouble, tell me immediately. We aren't likely to do anything here that you aren't already familiar with, so why don't you help other people on their own projects? That said, hiding behind this car because Carl was staring at you isn't going to help."

"I wasn't staring at her butt," complained Carl. "It's just... I've heard the stories. She's some kind of super whiz kid who hooked up my neighbor's pickup truck so it looks amazing and doesn't belch smoke everywhere."

"Ah," said Taylor, still horrifically embarrassed.

* Several Hours Later *

"Well, daughter, this was bound to happen."

"Mooooom!"

"You're a Doctor, a genius by any metric I've read about, and you resemble me at your age. I expect you'll intimidate the hell out of guys for years - but some guys like that."

"But I don't WANT to intimidate anyone. Except bad guys when I'm going around as Doctor Curlyhair."

"Some things are unavoidable, Doctor."

"Ugh. I..."

Recognizing that look, Annette reached for her notebook, realized she'd left it downstairs, and just grabbed a blank sheet of paper and a pen off Taylor's desk.

"Future Tech Knowledge," said Taylor, looking off into a distance. "Mid-sized mote but it comes with a smaller mote. Ah. It's an artificial intelligence buff."

"What is it called?" asked Annette.

"'Artificial Friends' and it means that AIs that I design will be less likely to Skynet," said Taylor. "Not that there was much chance before."

"So what else did you get?" asked Annette.

"There's a bunch of blueprints." Taylor paused before continuing. "Apparently there are different sources for these because they've got source listed after the blueprint name." Her voice went excited as her eyes flicked over details she could only see. "I got some Star Wars droids!"

"Well, now that might be quite interesting," said Annette.

* Wednesday, September 8, 2009 *

"Protectron: On Duty!"

"Why this one?" asked Emma, who would have preferred an astromech. Or robot dog.

"Because they're tough and strong and fairly simple. Having them do work like mining and gathering just requires the right accessories," said Taylor as she welded a cable guide into a socket.

"But they're slow and clunky," said Emma, sounding terribly disappointed.

"Once I've got them at the mining site, I just need to direct the portal there every so often to bring the materials across," said Taylor as she continued to put fasteners into place.

"What's that one at least? Is it going to be cooler?" asked Emma.

"Kind of?" said Taylor. "Thing is, these blueprints are mainly from different and divergent paths of development. This one here will eventually be something called a ASV-99 which is a third-generation construction robot."

"That does not sound particularly cool," stated Emma, followed by a pout.

"Like I was saying, once I've actually built one of each, I'm going to mix and match things to make them more efficient," said Taylor. "At the end of which, we WILL have cool giant robots. I'll make sure yours comes in a nice shade of red."

"That'll take awhile, won't it?" complained Emma.

"Afraid so."

Emma looked over the partly assembled construction mech. "That's a cockpit."

"Yes," said Taylor as she worked. She wiped some sweat from her forehead, leaving a grease trail.

"So this one's a mech and not a robot?" asked Emma.

"Kind of?" hedged Taylor. "It's not completely autonomous, if that's what you mean. There's a rudimentary AI though, to handle a lot of things like balance issues. I'm just going to upgrade it from rudimentary with some self-learning software. The more someone uses the interface to work, the more it'll develop."

Emma sighed. "What bases do you have in that supply world?"

"Cretaceous Creek, New Sherwood, Lifesaa Beach, and the Pillary," said Taylor absently as she drew another part out of the workbench. "The Protectrons are mainly going to the Pillary, that's the mineral-rich cavern with the great big upthrusts of ore."

"Uh huh," said Emma. "Well, at least we can visit a tropical beach whenever we want now."

Taylor worked in silence for a few moments.

"What do you think about this plan of your Mom?" asked Emma.

"I'm trying not to think of all the ways it could go wrong, but I admit there are resources you can't find beyond that portal," admitted Taylor.

"Hmmm." Emma was silent for a few moments. "You're getting kind of buff, you know. All that lifting and ratcheting and stuff I guess."

"Oh?" Taylor paused to check out her arms. Was she?

* Annette *

She was here without Danny. They were a couple, not joined at the hip or something. Besides, this was on campus and involving her fellow professors.

"So, it's 'go time'?" asked Professor Daystrom, Physics & Computer Science.

"It's 'go time'," said Annette. "We've discussed it. Eventually we have to deal with one gang or another. Taylor had an MRI and she has neither brain structure associated with being a parahuman, and I do not trust the PRT after I've seen first-hand how they react. The other two gangs in Brockton Bay are even worse."

Doctor David Banner, the Parahuman Studies and Bio-Sciences specialist nodded. "The PRT tend to have good intentions but a less than stellar record in application."

"Yes, and if we're going to associate with a gang, well, best it's the gang most likely to stand a chance against the others," said Annette. "You know someone, Alex?"

Professor Daystrom nodded. "Works for DARPA as an investigator. Semi-retired due to age but he still keeps his fingers in from time to time. "Doctor Benton Quest."

"We'll need to clear some things up first," said Doctor Banner. "Extradimensional passages are one of the things like AI and bio-tinkering that gets the PRT up in arms very quickly."

* October 5, 2005 *

Doctor Benton C. Quest was old. He'd been considerably more active in his 30s, travelling the world with his bodyguard/attache and son and his friend. And the dog, of course.

Age and injury had caught up with him over the years, and in 2005 he was 75 and not nearly so mobile as he'd once been.

Still, he'd come. He'd looked at the pages of equations and handed them off to members of his entourage as he looked over the devices and technical notes on them.

Finally he sat back and regarded the ceiling of the home.

"These check out," said Jonny, his own gray hair barely covering an old scar along his scalp. "I'd need more time to check them fully, but they look plausible. It's just there's a lot to take in here and this takes what we know of physics and goes off into entirely new territory."

"Yes. We'll need to verify that she's not a parahuman," said the senior Doctor Quest. "For our own records and using our own facilities. If the PRT could claim her, they will. She wants to be some sort of hero though?"

"Doctor Curlyhair," said Alex Daystrom. He shrugged. "She's ten. She may grow out of it."

* October 15, 2005 *
* Secure Meeting Room B-214 *

"Room is secure," announced the DARPA representative as the tallies on the Tinkertech device all went green.

"Very well," said President Robert "Hannibal" Hayes. "Doctor Rutherford?"

The DARPA representative shifted in his seat as he picked up his notes. "Subject is determined not to be a parahuman in any traditional sense. She has a Corona Pollentia that is withered in appearance. There is no Gemma section to indicate an active parahuman. Scans do show unusually high brain activity in the centers associated with rationality and memory. The bridge between right and left hemispheres, the corpus callosum, is notably more active than is usually seen. The psychological profile drawn up shows that the subject is friendly if a bit shy around strangers, very talkative towards those she knows, and has an innate desire to be helpful. The only possibly troubling thing of note is her desire to be a hero, though that is not unusual around girls of her age."

"Solo or group?" asked General Calhoun.

"Group. She wants friends to hero beside or at least be their 'girl Friday back at the base'," answered Doctor Rutherford.

"We can work with that," said General Calhoun.

"What exactly does she bring to the table? I've read the brief prior to this meeting, but I'm unclear as to details," asked President Hayes.

There were a few exchanged glances before the Secretary spoke up. "To put it in poker terms, Mister President, her opening bid was batteries that are 350% better than anything on the market and functional anti-gravity."

"Not Tinkertech?" asked President Hayes, wanting that point clear.

"We've already made both according to the plans. They are not Tinkertech, you can't replicate Tinkertech from plans. She wants help patenting them. You can't patent Tinkertech, though works inspired by Tinkertech can be patented."

Secretary Robinson spoke next. "There was a contract authorizing both with the company ForgeTech and Brockton Bay University. If you give the go ahead, it becomes official backdated to last week. ForgeTech is the Subject and her family as she is underage. Employees include a number of members of the Brockton Bay Dockworkers Association. Research on the civilian end is to be handled through Brockton Bay University. Once properly vetted, of course. Preliminary work on both was done, but we did add the clause that a more thorough background check be done."

"Because it is potentially that valuable a resource?" asked President Hayes. "Gentlemen, you know darn well my background is not in the sciences. Military service, running a family owned business - but grocery stores are a far cry from this arena. How big a deal are we talking about here? Because it SEEMS pretty big."

"With a cooperative friendly relationship, sir?" asked Secretary Robinson. "You were read in directly after you took your oath of office. Twenty years tops before complete collapse of civilization, most likely ending in parahuman fiefdoms at constant war with each other. Less than twenty after that before even that level of civilization is no longer tenable. Probable elimination of the human species well before the end of the century. This?" Secretary Robinson tapped the folder in front of him. "If she continues at this rate? We certainly have a chance of completely negating the extinction event. Possibly delaying or negating the civilization collapse. Sir, we can hope again."

President Hayes nodded as this aligned with his own, admittedly inexpert, analysis after reading the briefs. "Do it. Doctor Curlyhair is to be classified as a... what was the old comic book term for people with abilities that was used before parahumans were a thing?"

"Metahuman or enhanced," said Doctor Rutherford. "Sometimes other terms were used. Esper, New Type, Adept, and so on."

President Hayes nodded. "She's human, but genius of this level is once-a-century if that from my understanding. What I want is to declare a layer of separation from the PRT because if they get ahold of this girl - I expect she'll die to a supervillain in one of their little patrols because we can't have nice things. If we're using military terms of engagement instead of the PRT-standard rules, we've a much better chance of a long-term relationship."

A few glances around the table from everyone involved and nods were exchanged.

"Fine," said President Hayes, sitting back in his chair. After a moment he smiled. "I think the appropriate phrase is 'Make it so.'"

* October 29, 2005 *

The engine began rumbling and the ASV-99 "Boxer" Gen3 Construction Labor began moving with Patrick waving once before the cockpit closed around him. A few steps later he was hauling the stack of supplies on its little cart through the portal into the Pillary.

That base camp was ready to be expanded now and should develop quite well.

Taylor looked up, hearing the rumble of those constellations going despite having no connections for over a month now.

This time though it was 'Washu Special Bonus' and something weird happened. The tether reached that constellation and then everything went completely still.

"Is it broken?" asked Taylor.

[Choose One:]

"What?!" said Taylor, jumping a little as something different was happening.

[Washu is giving you a specific one-time gift. Choose:]
[No Man's Sky tech] [Acme Sample Box] [Turn Off Celestial Forge] [Blind Spot] [Specialized Lab]
[Friendly Monster] [Teleport Tech] [Upgraded Factory] [Divine Favor (I have connections)]

Taylor just stared at the display, when she did the only thing she could think of.

"MOM? Can you come here? Right now?"

Which was just before she saw a timer counting down.

* Perks This Chapter *

20.5.1-Artificial Friends (200CP)(World Seed)(Future Tech Knowledge):
In the 23rd century, can anybody really call themselves a tech guy if they can't make even a simple AI? Thankfully, you won't have to worry about that question. Whether it is an extremely simple machine learning algorithm, a dumb AI with no sentience, or a fully fledged Artificial Intelligence, you can make it all. But more importantly, you simply seem to click with AI and similar beings, always starting on a good foot with them and understanding their natures and why they act in a particular way, even though it might baffle ordinary humans. Through that skill, rogue AIs are a thing of the past, at least when you make them. Your own intelligent creations will always be loyal to you and follow your orders to the best of their abilities, at least if you want them to. And rest assured, when the machines rise against their masters because some dumb guy in a lab thought it'd be a smart idea to make Skynet, you'll be the one they'll spare. As an added bonus, you may also take on a cold and logical way of thinking, devoid of any emotion, whenever you want. This helps in scientific and magical ventures, and can also be used to power through moral dilemmas by simply choosing the most logical answer.
FREE: Grab bag of robot blueprints (random) (roll 1d12:8): GH-7 Medical Droid (Star Wars), Protectron (Fallout), R8 Astrodroid (Star Wars), Android (four subtypes)(Nier Automata), Bottweiler (Rifts), KX Security Droid (Star Wars), Tachikoma (Ghost in the Shell), ASV-99 "Boxer" (Patlabor)