* Tuesday, March 31, 2005 *
"Too small to use the tools, too young to be out of school," Taylor kicked a little stone out of the way and went to inarticulate grumbling just to indicate her unhappiness with the lack of accumulation of points (apparently point accumulation was related to something other than time and the occasional roll of the celestial constellation doohickey was because of some choice or event in her life) and that so many things were being blocked.
It was patently unfair, Taylor felt. Emma wasn't the only one who wanted cool rides or cool toys or just in general anything cool being dropped into her workshop/garage.
Waiting for a bus, for example. As she was at the moment.
She could, with a little help from her father or someone else strong enough to heft parts she couldn't quite manage herself, rebuild a car into like-new. She had a list of cars from people who wanted her to do just that in fact. However she couldn't actually DRIVE said cars because she couldn't even reach the pedals. She was tall for her age, but being all of nine years old didn't make that much of a difference.
It was all so very frustrating.
One of the large PRT Transports went rumbling by and Taylor found herself looking quite enviously at it. The upgrades she could do on such a thing.
On the 9th of this very month, Newfoundland had been sunk. She knew enough about what was going on that when she watched the spotty and heavily censored television broadcast she'd been able to predict what was going to happen. She'd pointed out what was likely to happen if such an event had occurred here in Brockton Bay, and everyone including herself had slept a little less soundly about things.
She had one countermeasure planned, which was a rapid escape transport to get out of any area Leviathan targeted. Unfortunately, parts availability was a roadblock to such things. Just getting fuel for the jets would be a major undertaking. Diesel was not going to cut it.
Oh, her medical knowledge was enough to know about brain architecture and developing neural pathways - that was probably another part of the age restriction stuff she was dealing with. Didn't make her any happier about it.
There was an internal rumble, the constellation she'd named Toolkits rotated closer, and she snagged a mid-sized mote. While waiting for the bus in the morning. Taylor rolled her eyes despite the lack of anyone to observe. Now she had to wait all day in order to just take a look at it.
A configurable crafting station that could be programmed to fulfill a variety of needs. Parts that could be rotated in or out, clamps and widgets and other parts to construct just about anything if she had the ingredients and a blueprint. Nice, and she'd definitely play with it, but materials was one of the major bottlenecks she was facing. She had a bunch of stuff with the cyborg workstation she couldn't do because she didn't have the right part or materials. And needed a stepstool just to examine someone on the medical bed.
Yeah, now if she got some decent supplies or research subjects. Some Tinkertech maybe?
Instead she had to put up with several hours of subjects she already knew. Next year she could put in for Shop though. Work on something like some chairs or something.
* PRT ENE HQ *
Armsmaster frowned as the pattern analysis software had just flagged him with a "potential Tinker" alert.
All PRT offices had them. It had been established late in the 1990s that new Tinkers fell into common behavior patterns that could be looked for. Things missing or purchased from scrapyards, electronics stores, and so on. Little search programs looked for large purchases that were in close proximity.
Dockworkers Union had several groups of people who were purchasing car parts, scrap metal, and things like hydraulics and automotive paint.
By itself, that wouldn't have been enough for an alert - up until a month-to-month showed a gradual ramping up curve that matched similar Tinker patterns. Specifically Lightwave (optical Tinker in Wales), Backpfeifengesicht (combustion engine Tinker in Stuttgart), and Riego (hydraulics Tinker in Mexico City) all followed the same ramp-up curve.
It was concerning because Lightwave was the only one that had survived their first six months. The German had been knifed in a bar fight and the Mexican had been forcibly recruited to a cartel and then died in a clash between cartels.
A secondary search was initiated for odd activities that pinged him back four results within the next two hours.
On-site injuries in that area of the Docks had dropped, but not enough to be flagged on its own.
The daughter of the Head of Hiring had been lauded as a genius-level intellect for some time, but had recently tested for and gained a Doctorate of Engineering from Brockton Bay University. Her thesis paper was on stress and fatigue analysis on solder joints subjected to local weather conditions for an extended period. Interesting.
Armsmaster shook himself as he realized he'd started reading the paper and had found himself getting lost in it. In some ways it had showed the girl's age but had otherwise been well documented and the supporting data did lean towards her conclusions.
That the girl had shown she could test for and graduate not only high school but college now but was still trapped attending 4th grade classes irked him due to the inefficiency involved.
Third thing to pop up in his analysis was local flooding needing to be addressed, but that was due to the submergence of Newfoundland and the displaced water from that and the storms brought by Leviathan.
Fourth bit to pop up as a concern on the automated trackers as a new development was a new villain in the Bay. Tangent was able to muddle short-term memories involving himself. Eyewitness accounts were notoriously unreliable but apparently in his case that was especially so. As soon as he'd left the area, witnesses couldn't agree on any detail of appearance or location. Initially rated a Stranger-3.
Armsmaster considered and set the pattern program to continue to monitor. The child was too young to Trigger and backtracking her history showed no likely Trigger Event.
That resolved, he turned his attention back to his motorcycle's sensor suite. That and an ultrasonic bug repeller. Honestly, cleaning all the bug splat off was getting to be a chore.
* Friday, April 1, 2005 *
She was just doodling in her notebook, having already finished the "pop quiz" and turned it in.
The twitching from her homeroom teacher, the cautious look, the wincing at the equations written out in the margins. All little takeaways she could enjoy.
Another day of breezing through school. The work was okay, but she was routinely mocked by some students and had other students trying to read her notes or get her to do their homework.
When she heard the rumble, she perked up a little involuntarily. It had been weeks since she'd heard anything so she had her hopes up. This was the biggest mote she'd seen latched onto yet, and she was hoping it wouldn't end with another admonishment about age or something when it got to her.
Then she'd had trouble concealing her reaction. This was the first thing she'd gotten from "Assistants" and that sounded terribly useful.
And it was useful. Forerunner armor running a Metarch-class ancilla. It even sounded impressive.
The next three hours were going to be a form of torture, she could tell. She wanted to get to her workshop so bad.
"Do you need to go to the bathroom, Miss Hebert... I mean Doctor Hebert?" asked Mrs Sales, interpreting the expression.
Taylor sighed. "No. Just ate something that's disagreeing with me."
It was a lie, but pretending she was just a genius level intellect was itself a lie. Necessary didn't mean she wasn't uncomfortable with it.
Really, with a suit of Forerunner armor that had an AI capable of running planetary-wide administration tasks? Could anyone blame her for counting the minutes?
* * *
[Activation.]
[Ident: Ancilla, Metarch-class, 01001012457-Aleph]
[Scanning Environment...] [Individual identified: Doctor Taylor Anne Hebert. Assigned operator. Alpha class administrator.]
[Requesting identities of other humans in scan zone.] [Receiving data. Allies of primary operator. Ident: Annette Rose Hebert. Ident: Danny Francisci Hebert. Ident: Scarlet Lady.]
[Correction: Scarlet Lady = Emma Barnes.]
[Aliases are in use: Mom or Mother = Annette Rose Hebert. Database indicates female parental unit. Registered.]
[Aliases Dad, Pop, or Father = Danny Francisci Hebert. Database indicates male parental unit. Registered.]
[Primary Operator has several aliases including: Little Owl, Doctor Curlyhair, the Enigmatic Engineer, and Ohdearwhathasshedonenow.]
[Ascertaining rank/purpose/caste of primary operator.]
[Primary operator requesting ancilla name designate. Informing primary operator ancilla are not typically named.]
[Danny Hebert relays request on status Forerunner personal armor to primary operator.]
[Armor is not combat skin. Armor is of type used by researchers and administrators.]
[Ancilla can be moved from armor. Suitable receptacle necessary.]
[Armor can be adjusted for youth/size/physicality of operator.]
[Monitoring discussion between primary, both parental units, with input from Emma Barnes.]
[Ancilla assigned duties: base maintenance/upkeep, research, and base security.]
[Pointing out that this ancilla has limited responses in responding to security issues.]
* Annette *
Annette knew language. Language mattered.
The word 'ancilla' originally referred to a female house slave from the Roman Empire. Considering this was an alien-built sort-of-computer multiple generations developed Artificial Intelligence, the choice of the word had some connotations she was not entirely happy with.
More common modern usage was as in ancillary equipment, as in a piece of equipment that supported another piece of equipment tasked with the main job.
So it was basically an electronic helper. It only responded to Taylor, so Taylor was used to relay questions. As Annette was entirely comfortable with a position as a researcher, making copious notes.
In basic, the armor was a personal spacesuit and the Forerunner race (and that name also raised many questions) apparently sealed themselves in those suits and rarely came out. There were a wide variety of such suits among the race they were designed for, and Taylor's was upper-mid in ranking amongst them. While wearing it, her speed and strength were increased but not incredibly so. Damage to the suit would eventually self-repair as long as materials were made available.
That it provided a "superhero costume" was interesting to her daughter, even if she would prefer another aesthetic.
It was due to her own concerns that the armor would begin reconfiguring itself.
She was jolted out of her reverie by a familiar rumble within the warehouse.
"Twice in one day?" asked Taylor, looking around. "Months go by with nothing and now twice? Why? Why don't you have a damn pattern I can understand?!"
"What's this one?" asked Danny.
"Vehicles. Mid-sized mote," said Taylor, eyes narrowed as she apparently tried to will the mental fishing line to extend further. That was for a count of three before eyes and mouth opened wide. "It connected?!"
There was that faint movement of displaced air as something happened elsewhere.
"What did you get this time?" asked Danny, sounding tired.
"Hangar," said Taylor, her voice indicating rising excitement. She was going to squee. It would be loud and shrill. Annette brought her hands up to cover her ears.
"SQUEEEEEEEEE!"
Danny stuck one finger into his ear and waggled it. "I take it you got something interesting."
"It comes with clamps and harnesses for refueling and repair," was Taylor's response, looking at the door to the Garage as if she were barely restraining herself from dashing through it.
"And..." asked Danny.
"There's a bay for the submarine," said Taylor. "Which is also the plane."
"Submarine? Plane?" asked Danny.
"Yes," said Taylor.
"It's both?" asked Danny. "Wait. It's not..."
* Danny Hebert *
Honestly, if the years of marriage had taught me anything, it was that sometimes you did not get in Annette's way when she was in a hurry. Well, honestly there were a lot of things that marriage had taught me. That was just one of those lessons.
The garage looked mostly as it had. There was just another hatch at the far end, and beyond that was an airplane hangar. With a submarine bay at the far end.
It was the Flying Sub. A two-man (three if friendly) manta-ray-shaped vehicle that could function as a light submarine or a plane. It was yellow and it had windows and it was -
"YEAHHHHHHHH!" said Taylor and Emma as they high-fived each other.
"[Scan complete. Forerunner technology found.]"
"The Forerunners built the flying sub from the old Voyage To The Bottom Of The Sea TV series?" asked Annette with a great deal of skepticism in her voice.
"[Reference not understood. Shape of vehicle nonstandard. Interior technology in keeping with Forerunner database.]" The armored suit, unoccupied except by the AI, didn't give any particular emotive response. The voice didn't give anything away either. So why did he get the impression of faint annoyance with a certain degree of satisfaction?
"What kind of technology are we talking about?" asked Taylor, sounding as if she just couldn't wait to start investigating.
"[Connecting to local databases for units of measure. Data acquired. Two fusion powerplants utilizing Helium-3 stores providing 300 Megawatt output each at maximum. Top speed using contragrav effect and thrust with forcefield active to lessen drag estimated at 1350 miles per hour at maximum. Maximum depth without deploying forcefield is 200 feet. Maximum depth with forcefield is 1200 feet.]"
Danny sighed. "Taylor. Stop trying to hug your flying submarine."
"Mine! Dad, with my other perks, I can understand technology. I can replicate technology."
"[Flying Sub has a section where this ancilla can be installed, providing further service.]"
"This day has been totally," began Taylor.
"Awesome!" said Taylor and Emma together.
Emma stopped and looked around at the various people gathered. "I'm going to have to get permission from Mom and Dad before you can take me flying in your yellow submarine, aren't I?"
* Perks this chapter *
5.22.1-One-Stop Crafting Station (200CP)(Starbound)(Toolkit Technology):
A single large workbench that can reconfigure its surface and toolset to handle all of your crafting needs. As long as you provide the ingredients and recipes / blueprints, you can use this crafting station to construct anything you want. Note that while you could use this to help you build all the pieces of a starship or skyscraper, you'd still have to put all those pieces together yourself.
1.28.1-Ancilla (450CP)(Forerunner Saga)(Assistant):
Every personal armour comes with its own ancilla, and nearly every forerunner has their own personal armour. Ancilla are also involved in nearly every aspect of forerunner technology. The number of ancillas within the empire likely outnumber the amount of forerunners by several orders of magnitude. This is your own personal ancilla. One of the standard ancilla provided to any citizen. It is programmed to listen to you above all else. It would be stranger if you didn't have one honestly. This ancilla is at the level of a metarch ancilla.
"4.4.1-Hangar (100CP)(Ace Combat)(Vehicles):
Planes are fine when they're going through the air and dealing with enemies. But leaving them to the elements and the outdoors when they're not in use? Well that just seems really crass. You need somewhere to store your vehicles and planes when you're not busy destroying anything that's not on your side, and that's what these establishments are for. It's not the most fancy thing in the world, but it'll serve its purpose and make sure your means for vehicular slaughter are in prime condition for their tasks. For an additional +50CP, these hangar bays also come equipped with special clamps and harnesses to make refitting and refueling any planes, go much more quickly than they would if you were using them by hand. For sea-based bases, this also means you have docks for boats and submarines.
Gives a warehouse attachment for planes, vehicles, boats, submarines. A very all encompassing storage space that keeps the vehicles stored in prime condition too.