Chapter Text
January 25, 2011
"I've never hired a security consultant, and I'm not planning to start now."
"No, you're just asking me to work for free." Colin made sure to put a note of humor in his voice. He wasn't in the right mood for playfulness, but he didn't want to take that out on Dragon. 'There's a non-zero chance I'll be forced to condemn one of my Wards to prison the day after tomorrow.' It weighed on him, even though he'd planned out how he would spin things. He would come out the other end with an accolade for his prompt investigation, not scorn for letting Tattletale corrupt a Ward in the first place. 'Let's hope I'm wrong.'
"I would never invite a colleague to hack my company's secure servers. Not even for diagnostic purposes. Government data is stored there. You know that." She sounded like she was taking this very seriously--an about face from a moment ago. Colin hated failing to keep up with a conversation. 'She doesn't vacillate like this. She's rational. It's what I appreciate about her.'
"Nevermind." He tried to think of something more to say, but Dragon beat him to the punch.
"I need to get to work, see if this bug is exploitable. Talk to you later." Another pivot. Now she sounded put-upon, unless Colin was reading too much into it. It didn't make sense. 'We were planning to discuss her Dragonflight project.'
Colin inhaled.
Dragon hung up on him before he had a chance to speak.
An ember of anger flared in his chest, then simmered low. He reined in the resentment and focused on how strange Dragon had been acting. 'There's clearly something more to this network vulnerability of hers than she let on.'
The two of them had shared enough work over the years that Colin had addresses for several of her terminals. As she'd bragged, she didn't trust anybody but herself to manage these systems, and where she lacked the time to do so, they were overseen by automated response generators. One inbox sprang to mind in particular. Dragon had shown Colin the language learning model powering its robotic clerk. He knew its training input. He could predict its output.
Increasingly convinced that Dragon had been trying to invite him into the system, he began writing a virus.
OOOOO
Once Colin found the bug in question it took minutes to crack open the data on the afflicted server. The top level of a file tree greeted him, available to sort by date or by-
His train of thought jolted off the tracks as he read the words 'Cell Blocks A to Z'. Judging by the file sizes, he was looking at security recordings taken from inside the Baumann Parahuman Containment Center, where otherwise unrestrainable villains were buried alive. The Birdcage.
He was about a tenth of a second away from shutting his whole computer down, finger on the power button.
But one of the file folders wasn't a folder. A unique icon caught his eye, attached to an individual file titled 'clip_for_review' and beached like a whale outside of the entire system of categorization.
He copied it onto his private drive and immediately began scrubbing away any evidence he'd been here.
OOOOO
Satisfying his caution took many times longer than satisfying his curiosity. After an hour of clean-up work, Colin pressed play on his stolen video file.
It cut in on a high angle: an expanse of pale, tattooed flesh which resolved into a group of men huddled over a makeshift card table.
A voice rattled along, trying to sound grandiose, describing a power or a cape. Someone the man had fought? Someone he'd only heard of?
As another man, then a third, took his turn to speak, it became clear that this was a game of one-upping the last guy--'who's the most fucked up cape who popped up in the last few years?' It all seemed to be for the benefit of one particular prisoner, a figure sitting off to the side, just listening, not playing. 'They're catching him up,' Colin decided, 'He's been inside the longest and he's hungry for news.'
Colin tuned out the bragging and the embellishment. He would have written off the whole video, but he recognized, even from behind, a familiar greasy mane of yellow hair. He waited for Hookwolf's turn to speak.
"Your hometowns all sound peachy. I'd say 'sign me up' but how do I even pick?"
A chorus of laughter and "fuck you"s drowned out his next words.
"No, I'm serious!" He threw his arms out wide. "I'd rather lose a fight to this Rime chick any day than deal with the horseshit that's been going down in Brockton Bay again."
Quiet. He had their attention.
"Whole city's crawling with little high-school age mind-reader bitches nowadays. Omen of collapse."
"Mind-reader?" Across the table, the dealer bit the bait. The current poker hand was on pause by unspoken agreement.
"Seems that way." Hookwolf shrugged. "Tattletale waltzes right inside your head and makes herself comfortable. She's supposed to be a small-time thief, but don't let that fool you. Heroes, villains, you name it, she and this other girl, Tilt, will have whole mobs of capes raining down on your head."
The man to Hookwolf's left tried to take his own turn. "Sounds like a pain, but this dude Neon-"
"Tilt?" The dealer interrupted.
"Sees the future or some-such. Coulda just killed her, but she's a Ward. Didn't stop her being in cahoots with Tattletale, though. Threaten one and the other crawls out of the woodwork." Hookwolf scratched his scalp. "Long story short, when you're always testing your limits, you're gonna find 'em one day. Live by the sword, die by the sword."
Colin rolled his eyes at the posturing.
"All those puppet strings just set me up against mine sooner than I'd planned," Hookwolf continued
"What was 'limit' then?" The dealer prompted.
"Don't leave us hanging." Annoyance dominated the voice of the man to Hookwolf's left, still having his spotlight hogged.
"Bastard who could control dogs and turn them into elephant-sized monsters. Went up against three of the things. Couldn't hack four. A villain by the way, but there was also a hero there, one who could walk through walls, and Armsmaster. Some of you must've heard of him, right?"
A previously silent man spat on the floor. "Are villain-hero team-ups just a thing up North?"
From there, Hookwolf tested the waters, trying to segue into telling the whole story of his arrest blow by blow.
Colin unlocked the legs of his suit from the standing rest position. He wasn't usually a restless individual, but now he felt the need to pace, still listening to the video with half an ear.
Hookwolf could have been talking about Tilt's rescue of Hellhound. Colin pulled up the cell phone footage on his HUD. Sure enough, the young woman who'd pulled her car right up across the mouth of the alley was blonde. Colin ran comparisons of hair color, build, and body language to every other available photo of Tattletale.
Complete match. Not a rubbernecker after all.
So, this wasn't a simple matter of Tilt forming an incidental entanglement. It was more akin to what she'd done with Hellhound, except far more serious if Hookwolf's 'mind reader' assessment was accurate. 'More likely Tattletale has a power that merely lets her pass as a psychic,' Colin thought.
Like a spigot smashed open, Tilt may have been leaking PRT secrets without even knowing. 'She'd better be ignorant.'
Colin had the proof he'd never wanted to find. Recently, Tilt's name had become synonymous with 'frustration' for him. Every chance he had to admire her tenacity was marred by her displays of poor judgment. Always another leap off the rails, never enough rest for reflection in between.
Forcing himself to be as generous as possible, he could step back and say, 'I bend and break rules too. It's necessary to get ahead when you're not the most naturally gifted cape in the room.'
But Colin always covered his tracks. Colin never stuck his neck out for criminals.
Even so, he was feeling slightly less sure than he'd previously been that he never would have made similar mistakes if he'd gained powers at Tilt's age. He tried to imagine himself as the young, passionate hero and Dragon as the villainess in distress.
Nonsense.
One way or another, for her own good, he'd put a final end to Tilt's machinations.
Colin prepared to call Dragon back, mentally cooking up excuses to mention Tattletale or the Undersiders.
OOOOO
January 26, 2011
Trainwreck's arms parted neatly at the elbow joints, followed by his legs. The entire diesel-powered frame rolled down the hill, folding in on itself along crumple zones. Pipes spewed black smoke and oil splattered across grass. The man inside the suit cursed profusely.
'Still not as ripe as Mush.'
Colin doused his plasma cutter. The battle had been decided the moment that the subsonic sensors feeding his prediction algorithm had determined that Trainwreck's true, corporeal limbs were not inside those of his suit.
Colin surveyed the field. Circus was retreating into the treeline, harried by Dauntless' arclance.
Velocity was rising to his feet, clutching the back of his head.
Colin moved closer and placed one hand under Velocity's elbow, taking some weight. "What happened?"
"Ambush," Velocity murmured, "Whatever she hit me with, it made a big squeaky noise--people were laughing--but I'm pretty sure I've got a concussion."
Dauntless returned. "Lost her."
"Good work anyway." Colin tried not to sound terse. "Circus versus you and I…" He didn't even want to voice the possibility of his halberd or Dauntless' lance being stolen, whisked away into a pocket dimension where his tracking devices most likely wouldn't respond. "Could've gotten tricky."
Dauntless nodded. "What do you think they were doing here, sir?"
Velocity pointed to the back of his head.
"Uh-huh." Dauntless handed over a couple of little white pills from a pouch on his belt. "But why?"
"Ploy for attention," Armsmaster said. "We ignore them. Re-establishing contact with the PRT is priority one." He looked out over the skyline, focusing on the glaring new--or old--addition.
Velocity swallowed the painkillers and let Dauntless help him lie down on a park bench. "You both see the nightmare castle too, huh? I'm relieved on one hand…"
"It has to be Labyrinth," Dauntless said.
Armsmaster's communicator buzzed. Recognizing the personalized tone, he answered, "Battery?"
"Undersiders sans Tattletale," she cried, "Corner of Prospect and Levitt. Requesting backup."
Armsmaster mounted his motorcycle. "Can you disengage? We all need to get to the PRT headquarters ASAP."
"Why?" Battery paused. "Oh."
"Yikes." Assault's voice carried from near the receiver.
"Yes, we can get away." Something hard shattered near Battery. "Damn it. I thought this was our chance to arrest them."
Nearly drowned out by the gunning of Colin's engine, Velocity spoke: "Is this our first non-gang war? All the unaffiliated capes decide to start flipping tables, no rhyme or reason?"
"Stay still," Dauntless said, "An ambulance is on its way."
"Guard him till then. I'm going ahead." Colin twisted the throttle. Something strange was afoot. The whole city had been embroiled somehow, but Armsmaster would get to the bottom of it.
OOOOO
January 27, 2011
"I refuse to go home again tonight." Shadow Stalker was sulking at Colin's side, with her hands planted on her hips just above the protruding handles of her crossbows. Her cloak didn't so much as stir as the elevator car descended.
"Fine," Colin replied. 'We just needed all the Wards reassuring their parents that they're alright.' The words aligned neatly in his head, but his mouth wouldn't cooperate. It was like his lips, teeth, and tongue were made of clay, all sticking, melting, fusing together.
Myrddin. His was the seat Colin had decided to target. How many years can a man last as a credible public figure when he claims to be an honest-to-god wizard? With Directors like Piggot and Tagg working to further regiment and militarize heroism, Myrddin's leadership days were numbered even more strictly. 'But a magician is still better than a motherfucking clown.'
One question, any time since he'd debuted his lie detector--that was all it would have taken to pick apart the end of Tilt's string and begin to unravel the whole strand. But it wasn't a question any serious individual would think to ask.
'Speaking of clowns,' Colin thought, 'Speaking of the fool who thought to ask the question.' Doors retracted left and right, revealing Clockblocker waiting for them.
"I haven't said anything yet." He shifted from foot to foot.
"Let's go." Stalker brushed past him, cloak billowing.
The rest of the Wards were assembled around the round central table. The lights above were dimmed. Damage to wiring on the surface levels would have no effect on systems down here; the building's power source was buried even deeper than the Wards HQ, so the lighting must have been some trite 'flag at half-mast' thing. An unpleasant odor of half-eaten microwave dinners wafted off the table, a mixture of cheese sauce, barbecue, and ketchup, all cold and stale where they clung to plastic trays.
"You're lucky no civilians got hurt," Aegis said in a scolding tone. In the low light, his costume was truly the color of blood, not just a color meant to hide blood.
Kid Win's head was pointed down into his lap. "I set the length of the beam-"
"As if that setting couldn't have malfunctioned too?"
"Lay off him!" Vista hopped up out of her seat to square up with her team leader. "You weren't there! It was a literal live fire situation."
"Thanks for the reminder." Aegis jabbed a finger in Vista's direction. "I can't believe you shot someone!"
"It was suppressing fire! Lieutenant Green said I could!"
"Sounds like it was a good shot," Stalker called.
Aegis' gaze was drawn to her voice. "Great. I'm outnumbered even worse now. Guess I have to drop it." Under his breath, he muttered: "Hell am I gonna do with you…"
In times like this, Aegis tended to look to Gallant for support, his right hand man. But it was Dean Stansfield who sat with his feet tucked underneath him a few seats away, wearing jeans and a polo shirt, looking more shellshocked than anyone who'd actually seen fighting.
"Where's Tilt?" Vista asked.
Kid Win looked up as well, hopeful.
Aegis sighed. "I've got even more choice words for the one who gave the orders."
"Bad news about her." Stalker's voice was tight like a coiled spring. "She's not hurt, before you all freak out. Panacea saw everybody."
Widened eyes relaxed. Gaping mouths shut.
"She lied to us. She's been working with Tattletale on top of her stuff with Bitch."
Aegis rolled his eyes. "Christ."
Vista, Kid Win, and Mister Stansfield didn't look surprised.
"What?" Clockblocker had been standing behind Stalker, as close to 'at attention' as Colin had ever seen the boy, sure he'd known the extent of the betrayal.
'Always another layer to peel back. Keep up.'
Aegis leaned forward. "Does that have anything to do with Faultline's Crew attacking the PRT?"
"Classified," Stalker said, "But there's more."
"Is this the thing I also know about," Clockblocker interrupted, "Because you almost gave me a heart attack just now."
"I don't know what you know." Stalker waved a hand dismissively, then took a deep, fortifying breath.
Before she could speak, Stansfield reared up with a panicked expression. "Wait! I don't know what you're about- You don't want to say this out loud!" He looked around the table.
"What does he know?" Clock murmured.
"No, I don't want to say it, so let me psych myself up in peace. Damn." Stalker paused to roll her shoulders. Another inhale.
Stansfield reached out a pleading hand. "Just-"
Stalker exploded: "Bro, you wanna tell me what your problem is, or can I say my fucking piece?"
He subsided.
Before another outburst could derail her revelation, Shadow Stalker blurted, "Tilt doesn't have powers! She lied about that too, from the beginning."
All eyes took flight off of Shadow Stalker, ignored Clockblocker entirely, and landed squarely on Colin, questioning him, begging him for reassuring denials.
He simply nodded.
Stansfield went limp. His skin was bloodless.
Kid Win gaped openly. A soft "huh?" sound passed his lips, long and drawn-out.
"That's stupid," said Vista.
"Uh," Aegis gestured aimlessly with his hands. "Proof? Can I have some proof?"
Clockblocker leaned his hands on the table. "I figured it out back in September, but-"
"Bullshit," said Vista.
"Or I figured out it was a possibility. Tilt and Shadow Stalker convinced me otherwise."
That made it sound like Stalker was in on the scheme. She stepped in promptly to defend herself. "Saw her crack a safe. Fast. Turns out it was Tattletale coaching her through an earbud. Thinker six, by the way, results just came in."
"The way Tilt described her power," Clock added, "It can't be disproven. Think about it."
"No." Vista shook her head.
Aegis rubbed his forehead. "Everything she accomplished, the whole time, was Tattletale pulling her strings?"
"Nah," Shadow Stalker said, "She said Tattletale was the one working for her. I mean, they only met for the first time during the jewelry heist."
'Ridiculous.' Armsmaster clenched his free hand into a fist. It needled him, but figuring out the exact power balance between Tilt and Tattletale would require him to wade right back into Tilt's orbit for questioning, after he'd spent entire days investigating her in vain. 'Absolutely not.'
Aegis echoed his sentiment. "You believe that?"
"Yeah." Stalker shrugged. "She fooled everyone in the Wards, PRT and Protectorate, she can handle one little villain who's dumb enough to use high-end superpowers just to steal shit." She punctuated her remarks with a nod at Colin.
Red flashed behind his eyes. He snapped, "Watch your mouth!"
Every other Ward tensed up, but Stalker's voice stayed flat. "Why are you still here? Making sure I don't say too much? You'll have to leave me alone with my team sooner or later."
Colin scrambled for a response. His face burned.
"Stuff your eyes back in your heads, okay?" Stalker swept her gaze around the table. "We need to talk tactics. What are we gonna do about this?"
"Excuse me?" Aegis inclined his head.
Clockblocker and Kid Win perked up, interested.
Vista and Stansfield looked like their brains had switched off--slack faces, unfocused eyes.
"I can't do shit on my own." Stalker tapped her chest. "But if the rest of you threatened to quit all at once…"
Colin didn't even have it in him to be insulted that his Wards were planning a strike right in front of him.
Clockblocker nodded along, but Kid Win was looking to Aegis, as if for approval.
"Shadow Stalker, if what your saying is true-" Aegis' next words were unintelligible. 'Seems his tongue got twisted.' "Sorry, I'm still wrapping my head around this. Point is, if Tilt is getting fired or even prosecuted, it isn't some big injustice. Don't get me wrong, it's fucked up, I'd stop it if I could, but I'm biased."
Stalker threw her arms out wide. "This is Tilt we're talking about! She helped me take down Hookwolf and Rune! There was Othala too. And yesterday she saved the PRT's entire ass!"
"Careful," Colin warned.
"It's…" Aegis shook his head. "Impressive when you put it like that. But now imagine what you or I could have done if we'd had access to a powerful future-seer or clairvoyant or whatever Tattletale's got going on. We'd have our powers on top of all that. We can't have a normal kid in the Wards."
"Also…" Kid Win's voice was hesitant until the table turned its whole attention on him. "She never did the same job as the rest of us. All that patrol time went to planning instead. Tilt was always acting first, never reacting to what was happening on the streets day to day like we have to. She was committed to all these, like, preemptive strikes, but that's not what the Wards are for, so it makes sense that she'd crash and burn sooner or later."
'Good point.' Summed together, Tilt's feats were incredible, but that sum paled in comparison to what she could have accomplished with both powers and a real, years-long career. 'Candles that burn twice as bright…'
"That's not what happened yesterday." The tension in Stalker's muscles was apparent even under her cloak. She was clearly aching to set the record straight about Coil.
Clockblocker's excitement faded as he saw the quorum that he and Stalker needed crumble to pieces. "What'll happen to her?"
Stalker ignored him. "Look me in the eyes, all of you, and tell me Tilt isn't the best of us at running the console. Why not keep her around for that full time? Plus, she can help out in the gym. Without her as a training partner, it would've taken me years to get this good at using the Striker aspect of my powers!"
"Sounds good to me," Kid Win said.
"Think back to yesterday's battle," Aegis countered, "You were there. Should someone our age with no powers be anywhere near any of the shit that went down?"
Kid Win shut his mouth.
"Who cares?" Shadow Stalker cried. "She's still the first one I'm picking to watch my back when it comes down to it!"
"And I'm chopped liver." Clock laughed weakly.
"Calm down, you and Vista are tied for second."
"Aw." Clock placed a hand over his heart.
Vista seemed distantly startled to hear her name spoken.
Colin cleared his throat. "Take some time to settle this amongst yourselves, but be aware that I won't tolerate any further talk of strikes or mutiny. Tilt's punishment is not up to you. Any of you." He made eye contact with Shadow Stalker. "Honestly, I'm not sure how you can stomach defending her as her first and foremost dupe."
'Have some self-respect.'
She screamed, "Get out!" and hurled a food tray at him. Reflex told him to activate the taser in his halberd, to leap aside, but Stalker stayed solid the whole time. Colin held himself still and let the tray clatter off his abdomen, leaving a slimy trail of ketchup.
He'd drawn glares from the other Wards too. Silence reigned as they waited for him to react. 'To leave?' Air puffed from his mouth, and even he wasn't sure whether to call it a laugh or a scoff. "We'll finish debriefing by teleconference." He stomped back to the elevator.
OOOOO
January 28, 2011
An intercom buzzed. "You've got a visitor coming." The voice was breathless, far away from the mic, and I didn't recognize it. The speaker crackled half a second later, turning off. Someone was in a hurry. A grim reminder of how understaffed this place was.
I shot up from my bed and brushed off my limbs, then set myself in front of the small holes in the glass wall just as that little plate flipped out of the way.
Kid Win was walking up the hall. His costume was stripped down to the basics, with all of the indicator lights missing and entire armor plates removed. He'd lost gadget privileges, and that meant all of the little uplinks and diagnostic tools in his suit had to go. He was left with an open-faced helmet and a black bodysuit with mostly red plates strapped on. I recalled that most of the gold on his costume, while not actual gold, was conductive, part of the system.
"Hello." In order to make my voice sound contrite enough, I had to mask how happy I was to see him.
"Hey, Taylor." His energy was different. All of his focus was on me instead of on engineering or homework. I already missed those comfortable non-silences, with a cutting laser buzzing away, the two of us doing our own stuff in parallel. "I brought some books from your room."
"Thank you so much." The food slot opened, letting me reach out and take the books one by one. I may have already waited too long to make my apology, but my heart was pounding. "I'm sorry-"
"Hey, stop. I don't think I need to hear it."
'He won't accept an apology?' That made sense. It was understandable.
Seeing my expression, he said, "I just mean, the others might want apologies, but I think I already get it."
"'It?'"
He shrugged. "Kids these days all grow up with the Wards marketed to them super aggressively. I was the same. I think I cried when I was, like, five or six, when I learned what parahumans actually were. Before that, I remember trying to figure out what my power was, maybe I was really good at running or jumping. You know."
I raised my eyebrows. "You thought everybody had a power, and it was just a matter of finding it?" As if 'power' just meant talent.
"Something like that, I guess. It's hard to remember." He took a deep breath. "Anyway, during the process of actually getting powers, heroes and villains are the last things on your mind, but you never had that."
I wanted to thank him for being understanding, but I'd never actually been that interested in the Wards before joining them. I didn't like the implication that I was influenced by advertising either. Now that he knew I was a normal human, was I just a member of the gullible masses to him? 'You have no right to get annoyed,' I reminded myself, 'You're probably being unfair anyway.'
"Are you alright?" He asked.
"Surprisingly, I feel pretty decent." A little numb, emotionally. "I've known this would happen from the beginning. I accepted it. This will probably sound weird, but I'm where I'm supposed to be."
"Yeah, not how people usually use that phrase." Another surprise: he actually seemed to cheer up a bit upon hearing that I wasn't breaking down.
"You know," I said, "I think this is one reason we got along so well."
"Huh?"
"When I say 'I'm fine' you believe me. You don't pry. You don't question it. You don't call me a liar."
His eyebrows arced up and pinched together. "Should I?"
"No."
OOOOO
January 29, 2011
"I thought I should make an appearance while I'm still team leader." In other words, Aegis didn't want to be here. He floated outside the glass with his arms and legs bent, poised for action. It was probably an unconscious resting position at this point, even if it had been a deliberate heroic affectation once.
"I'm sorry for lying to you. To the team."
"Thanks." He looked me over. "I feel like every time I get close to forming opinions on you, you do something crazy to force me to reevaluate."
"Well," I raised my arms into the air a few inches. "I'm all out of plans and ideas. This is me."
"Okay," he said, "This is you. So what's your deal? Why do all this?"
I braced myself to relive the embarrassment of Director Piggot picking apart these same motivations. "I wanted to accomplish something with my life. I wanted friends. I wanted a warm bed. Take your pick."
"Is this what friendship looks like?" He tapped a knuckle on the glass, and the impact sounded more like what you'd expect from plastic.
"No," I answered. "I was sure I'd fail to capture Othala."
He scoffed and looked away.
"I know I'm contradicting myself, but I'm not lying, it's just that I wasn't acting rationally."
He shook his head. "I'm out of here."
"Wait!" I wasn't even sure what I wanted to say.
"What?"
"Can you do me one quick favor before you go?"
He rolled his eyes and started moving again, going almost horizontal in the air.
I raised my voice. "What would you say to me if I were still on the team? Reprimand me for how I acted when Faultline attacked."
He stopped, rotating slowly, on a pinpoint, until he could glare at me from the corner of one eye. "Where to even start? For the second time, you act like you're in charge of the Wards and put my teammates in horrible danger. You know, one of the double agents who tried to sell our database to Faultline died."
"What?" A jolt ran up my spine.
"Shot by Lieutenant Green, then dropped multiple stories into water. Another man's in a coma, with brain damage Panacea can't heal, after Vista dropped a rock on his head."
My gut told me to say, 'I didn't order them to do those things.' But I kept my mouth shut. 'Excuses.' "Nobody told me," I said instead.
"Kid Win blew Gregor the Snail's arm off."
Another jolt. He hadn't told me. 'It's because you told him to use the alternator cannon.'
"That kind of stuff sticks with you, even if those two won't admit it." Aegis shook his head again. "There isn't any point to this, you act like you're facing the consequences head-on, but whatever else happens to you, you're off the team. You won't be around to pick up the pieces as a Ward." He flew away.
I called after him: "I would stay if they let me. You have to know that."
"Goodbye."
It sounded final. I couldn't bring myself to respond.
OOOOO
January 30, 2011
"Wow, you got me good. Holy shit." Clockblocker stood with his hands on his hips. His head was tipped back.
"I wasn't trying to 'get' any of you." I wished I could see his face, even just his mouth or his eyes.
"Obviously, I'm hurt, but I respect the commitment."
I winced. "I owe you a special apology don't I?"
"Do you?" Did he seriously not know what I meant? There could easily be a mocking, teasing, or vindictive edge to his words, making me spell out exactly what I'd done wrong.
"You had me dead to rights, but I messed with your head. I guilt-tripped you into dropping it. I never crossed that line with any of the others. I'm sorry. I feel terrible about it."
"Now that you mention it, that is pretty shitty." He leaned forward. "But you wanna know what the worst part is?"
"What?" I felt uneasy, but I needed to know.
"None of us can agree what to think or feel about this, let alone what to do. Rifts are opening up between Armsmaster and us Wards, within the team itself too. So thanks for that."
Yet another 'I'm sorry' would be crass. Repetition was starting to turn the words into meaningless noise, rote movement of my lips and tongue, empty breath. "I never thought I'd last long enough that my arrest would matter."
"Don't sell yourself short." Now I could definitely hear his sarcasm. "Oh, and you cut me, Aegis, and Gallant out of the Faultline thing."
I gave him a bewildered look.
"Don't worry, I don't know too much, but you definitely did. Vista wasn't even supposed to be on base that day. You called her in."
I couldn't tell him that even that small departure from schedule had felt nail-bitingly risky. If I'd brought the whole team to HQ, Coil probably would have snapped right out of his daily routine to get to the bottom of it. We'd used that routine to trap him.
"I get why you did it. Your upperclassmen wouldn't have followed your orders without question. Couldn't have that."
"I want to say I would've been relieved to hand the reins off to Aegis, but you might be right."
"Of course. I'm a professional detective after all, busting impostors and then sitting on my findings like a rube." He laughed at himself, a harsh and bitter cackle.
"I was only able to make you back off because you're a nice person, teasing aside. Thank you for that."
He stared at me for a long moment, so still he almost morphed into a faceless statue. "Fuck, I guess you're welcome." He paused. "Hey, that bowling party was fun, by the way. Sucks you had to trick us into seeing you off."
OOOOO
January 31, 2011
"Feels like I'm looking at a whole other person."
"My aura's that different now?"
Gallant's visor pointed just past me, scanning the space around the edges of my body. "Your anxiety is gone. I was starting to think you had an actual, diagnosable disorder, but I've got the real explanation now."
"Couldn't have been easy seeing that all the time. It probably took restraint not to be on my case about it twenty-four-seven."
"You have no idea."
"Well, you've got my full permission to let loose now. What do you see? Tear me apart." Maybe that wasn't the right way to put it. He wasn't Tattletale. 'I wish I could talk to her. Rachel too.'
"There is not much to say. You've gone gray. My best diagnosis is that it looks like the beginning of a funk."
"A depression?"
"I didn't want to-" He looked down at his greaves. "Yes."
"I'll be fine."
He paused. "Aegis and I were talking. We wanted to apologize."
I gaped at him. "Why? For what?"
"We're the oldest Wards, and the Director ordered us to keep an eye on you. We should have caught you way back in the summer, but we neglected our duty. You'd be in a much better situation if we hadn't failed you."
"You couldn't have known."
"Clockblocker knew. And I'm an empath for god's sake!"
I couldn't argue with that. "You don't need to apologize. But even if you did, I'd forgive you. Thank you for everything. All of you."
"I'll tell them you said that."
OOOOO
February 1, 2011
I opened my mouth.
"Shut up!" Vista's face was red and puffy. She'd been crying enough that there was real swelling and a nasal quality to her voice. "Just listen."
I nodded.
"Nobody's giving me a straight answer about what's gonna happen to you." She sniffled, nose scrunching. "So I just have to say both things I was gonna say one way or the other."
My hands hung awkwardly at my sides. I didn't dare move.
"If you somehow get to stay a part of the team, then I don't even care about how you scammed us or anything. We can go back to normal."
She bit her lip hard, but floodgates opened. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and despite her best efforts, mucus dribbled from one nostril. "But if this means you're going away forever and we never see you again, then-" Her whole body trembled. "Then fuck you!"
She stormed off.
OOOOO
February 2, 2011
As soon as each of the Wards left my sight I thought of more I wanted to say to them. Dozens of additional apologies, questions, and comments piled up in my head, but none of the Wards made second visits.
Earlier today, I'd been fitted with a GPS-powered ankle monitor, so the PRT must have decided to move me somewhere else. Would I be able to see more visitors there? I doubted it.
I was left alone in my cell. Days ago, I'd given up trying to read. Words simply swam off the pages. None of the writing bore any relevance to my situation.
Whenever a meal was dropped through the slot--always by an agent I didn't recognize, who seemed to be under orders not to speak to me--I made sure to eat at a glacial pace, savor the cafeteria's offerings as much as possible. Food was the only thing that changed day by day. Flavors were my only novelty.
I was now intimately familiar with the construction of the cell: silvery metal walls, black metal floors which were actually grates when I got down low and looked closely at the tiny openings. There wasn't much to explore.
Exercising was easier. Parts of my routine were workable even with no real equipment, and the movements could be performed mindlessly. Still, I spent most of my time in bed, curled in on myself even though I wasn't cold.
Since waking up here, I'd been checking in with Rachel by kicking walls or banging book spines against empty meal trays. Only every hour or so. All we could say to each other was 'I'm here', but it meant a lot.
A couple days later, a third set of responding noises had joined us. I'd hoped it was Lisa. She'd slipped seamlessly into our rhythm, responding with exactly one beat the very first time, just like us, no fumbling with extra noises. Her power would explain that, but it would be embarrassing if there were a random prisoner eavesdropping on our ritual.
But then, two days ago, one set of noises had ceased entirely. Then, the next day, the other disappeared too. I was alone for real now.
The lights dimmed to simulate evening. It would be another couple hours before they shut off entirely. Night. I was grateful for that. It was all that let me count the days.
Outside of meal times, there were no smells. Every noise I heard was one I made myself. No new sights. No new textures. Dust didn't cling to any of the surfaces in this box. Nothing.
'You should be spending your time planning.' I'd lost count of how many times I'd told myself that. I actually had one card left to play: The PRT knew who Piper was, but they didn't know he was Danny Hebert. Lisa had assured me that Coil wouldn't reveal any information that could screw over his buddy Accord. I was skeptical, but I'd already decided to trust her.
'What's the best way to use that secret? When will I get my chance? Questions that could play a role in determining the course of the entire rest of my life slipped through my fingers like they were oiled.
Instead, I dwelled on pointless speculation. My paranoia argued back and forth with whatever reason I could muster, tugging and wrestling.
'The Protectorate never wants to see me again,' versus, 'They're fighting for their lives against opportunistic villains trying to capitalize on the PRT's shaky footing.'
'The Wards never want to see me again,' versus, 'Someone's restricting their visits. Why else would they come one at a time, one a day?'
On and on. Around in circles.
And Sophia.
Sophia hadn't visited yet. I was sure she wouldn't. She was done using me. I was done using her. Nothing more to say.
I still found myself waiting for her.
OOOOO
February 3, 2011
"I'm not bringing you to the Directors." Lieutenant Green was practically walking sideways, with his neck craned over his shoulder to keep an eye on me.
"Oh." Some tension drained from my shoulders. My gait grew smoother. Director Piggot hadn't contradicted me when I'd used the word 'tribunal', but it was good to get more confirmation that other PRT branches would be involved in deciding my future, beyond just in aiding the cleanup. The latter was obvious from the presence of new agents.
"You looked freaked out is all." He faced forward again.
"Thank you, sir," I said.
He led me to the biggest conference room in the building, the one with space for the entire Protectorate and Wards rosters, plus Director Piggot and Armsmaster's extra large chairs. I remembered debriefing here after witnessing the Undersiders' debut.
It was a long narrow room, with the entrance on one long side, and a bank of floor-to-ceiling windows along the other.
I mustered what courage I could and pulled the door open.
I saw Assault first. He was leaning up against the window with his nose in a file folder. He didn't look up right away.
Battery sat next to him, in a chair she'd rolled back from the table. I couldn't see her eyes under her electric blue visor, but her mouth pinched into a pale line when she spotted me.
Miss Militia sat about halfway up the table. I recognized the look she gave me. I'd seen her aim the same glare at uncooperative civilians more than once.
Dauntless sat next to her. He straightened up when I walked in, looking more emotional than anyone else. I couldn't quite read his expressions; they shifted rapidly between confusion, anger, hurt, and those were just my knee-jerk labels.
Armsmaster was by the head of the table, back turned, staring out the window. He stayed perfectly still as I shut the door behind me.
Indirect sunlight nearly blinded me. It was a clear day outside, but all the visible facades looked gray and pale, which made me feel like it must be cold.
Velocity and Triumph were absent. Had they even been told what I really was?
Assault looked up. "Ah!" He chuckled. "Hey, Tilt. You wanna know what the worst part of last Wednesday was?"
A trick question?
He answered his own question before I had a chance to panic, flipping the folder around to show me a photograph depicting a long oval-shaped enclosure, dirt-floored, with a wooden fence down the middle. "Nobody got to use the jousting field that Labyrinth made just for you!" Now that he mentioned it, the lighting in the picture was dim--a shaded inner courtyard. "It's even named after you--a tiltyard."
I had no clue how to respond. "That's- I didn't know that was there. Wow."
The room fell silent for an excruciating few seconds.
"Hi, Tilt," Dauntless murmured.
"Hello, sir." I nodded to him.
"Do you have anything to say?" Miss Militia spoke in a curt and clipped cadence.
"Yes. Of course. I apologize for lying to all of you. I feel awful about it, and I'm ready to accept whatever consequences the PRT thinks are necessary." Like every other 'sorry' I'd said, it felt inadequate.
Miss Militia stopped looking at me and started watching her comrades. If I had to guess, I'd say she got what she came for, and now she was making sure everyone else did too. Or she was just waiting to get out of here. On one hand, I'd be happy for her to accept my apology, but was it just a formality to her? The look in her eyes was no softer now.
"Remember," Assault said, "You're still supposed to be a junior member of the Protectorate. I don't know how much of a say they'll let us have, but we'll have it." Toward the end of his speech, his voice grew heated.
'Let us', he'd said. Depending on what the Empire was up to, this one room could easily contain the highest concentration of potential physical force in the entire city, and yet my fate was out of their hands.
"What would you all do with me, if it were up to you?" 'A selfish question.'
"I know what I'd do," Assault said.
"We talked about this." Battery reached up and grasped his elbow.
"Oh, please. She's been hearing nothing but reproach and scolding for a week, a little praise isn't gonna tip any scales."
"Assault," Miss Militia warned.
"Bravo, kid." He clapped. "You foiled Faultline's quote-unquote 'data heist' and you've been playing the game on hard mode this whole-"
"Assault!" Armsmaster barked. "Stop."
He flopped back against the window, shaking his head.
Again, I was struck dumb.
After a pause, Battery murmured. "Has anything like this happened before?"
"Yeah," said Dauntless, "But I read they always handled unverifiable claims of powers as, basically, outpatient Crisis Point contacts. Most of those 'powers' are eventually shown to provide no novel information, and they find alternate explanations, usually mental illnesses. And, uh, back in Vikare's day you'd see some costumed vigilantes with no powers."
Was my case the first one to merge the two? Ever? It seemed unlikely.
Also, had Dauntless known that off the top of his head, or had my arrest prompted him to do some research?
My breath caught when I realized why he might be hit a little harder by this than the others: He'd invited me into his home. I didn't just know his secret identity, I knew his address. I knew his apartment number. I knew the names and faces of his wife and son.
"So there's no protocol for punishing this kind of thing?" Battery asked.
She didn't know about Coil. Like I had been, she was imagining a courtroom trial.
"No," said Miss Militia.
"Then I don't see why the PRT wouldn't let us figure it out ourselves. We can still run everything by the Image team."
Armsmaster clasped his hands and tucked them into the small of his back. "Whatever your feelings on the matter, she doesn't belong here."
Battery held her hands out, palms up. "I wasn't suggesting she stay a Ward, jeez. But when it comes to 'belonging' she strikes-" She turned to me, showing my silhouette reflected in her visor. "you strike me as somebody who should have triggered but didn't."
What in the world did that mean?
Assault fixed his wife with a curious look.
Armsmaster cleared his throat. "Are we saying our goodbyes or not?"
My stomach went into freefall. My worst fear about the purpose of this meeting was confirmed. Did that finality extend to the Wards too? Only Aegis had actually said 'goodbye' to me.
"I have a question first," said Dauntless.
Armsmaster grunted.
"Tilt, I know you have regrets, but I want to know, was it worth it?"
Without me, Rachel and Lisa would be dead. Then again, maybe they never would have been in such deep trouble to begin with. "Would any of you say it's not worth being a hero?"
"You have no right to call yourself a hero," Armsmaster said.
Assault wheeled on him. "Man, can you lay off for-"
"He's right," I cut in, "I wish I could stay, but I can't."
Miss Militia cocked her head. "So, that's that?"
"Wait," I said, "More than being a Ward, and I don't care if you all hate me for saying this, I wish somebody would step in and stop all of you from fighting! The same way you're stopping me!"
Armsmaster pivoted, baring his teeth. "How dare you compare yourself to us!"
Miss Militia closed her eyes tight. "Isn't it hypocritical to say that after asking Vista and Kid Win to fight Faultline and her team?"
"Yes! I'm a hypocrite, but the day Behemoth attacked Sur Lipez was one of the worst days of my life! I've never felt more useless. I can't watch more Endbringer events from a distance now that I know the people on the front lines! Next time I won't even be able to welcome you home! Don't go!" My voice broke.
Armsmaster gaped at me. "I can't believe you have the nerve to make demands."
I dropped to my knees and planted my fists to either side of me, inflicting rug-burn from sheer pressure. "I'm not demanding, I'm begging! Don't let the Wards fight Endbringers! Villains either!" I was being ridiculous now, but I couldn't keep my mouth shut. I had started crying at some point. I only noticed now that the first pair of tears had turned cold on my cheeks.
Armsmaster swept out a shiny blue arm to point at his team. "We're the only ones able to hold back the tide poised to destroy the world! Without heroes, the world's cities would fall one by one."
"There are other heroes!" I was being selfish now. 'Do I even believe what I'm saying?' Either way, there was a pressure in me that needed release.
"It takes all of us! Protectorate, Wards, even villains."
"Wards like me? Villains like, I don't know, Regent? I know for a fact some powers are useless in the face of an Endbringer."
"I didn't mean-"
I shouted over him. "You're right! Let's be consistent though! Next time we need to deal with a villain like Hookwolf, let's just empty out the nearest high school and throw all the kids at him! More time for heroes to focus on end of the world stuff."
Dauntless made a 'calm down' motion with his hands. "Okay…"
"Seriously! The difference in power between me and Hookwolf has got to be smaller than the difference between Behemoth and any one of you!" I was screeching now, shrill. My throat was raw.
Dauntless stopped trying to shush me. Even Armsmaster fell silent.
Had I somehow won the argument?
No. I could see the pity on the arc of their lips, the discomfort in the inward flex of their limbs, but I hadn't gotten through to them. Not even to Assault, who had seemed happiest to talk to me.
Damn it! Maybe if I had thrown this tantrum as a parahuman, they would have taken me seriously. At least a tiny bit.
Now, gazing up at them over the long lip of the table, I was faced with a yawning, insurmountable gulf. Greater than anything Vista could muster. I was just another hysterical civilian who knew nothing about the horrors of doing battle with the world's true monsters.
Every hero in this room had heard far more troubling criticisms than anything I could come up with, and they'd dismissed it all out of hand, or they wouldn't still be wearing those fucking costumes.
Armsmaster hadn't been cowed into silence, let alone persuaded. He just saw no point in continuing the debate. Disdain.
My knees hurt. I rose to my feet.
Assault's tone was soft as silk. "Kid, if I don't get to see you again-"
'If I let him say goodbye to me, I'll explode.'
I slipped out the door and slammed it shut behind me.
I was startled to see Lieutenant Green still standing guard.
He jumped a little, also startled.
"Can I go back to my cell," I whimpered.
OOOOO
January 27, 2010 revisited
For most administrators, being notified of an ongoing crisis, and then immediately receiving an urgent, seemingly unrelated call from a superior, was a nightmare scenario.
For Rebecca, it functioned as an all-clear signal. If Doctor Mother wanted to speak with her, then the sudden appearance of a stonework palace on the Brockton Bay skyline must be well within the capabilities of her underlings at the regional level to resolve.
She floated from one office directly into the next. The pressure differential swept her hair all over the place. She felt it on the structures of her inner ear, even if no force on Earth could pop them.
The Doctor's office was cavernous, floored with five-by-five foot white tiles. White walls rose to support a black ceiling. Unlike the Number Man's office, there was no window, just a tall bank of touch-screen monitors which could be set to display independently or continuously.
The most unusual thing, in Rebecca's opinion, was that all of the furniture faced the wrong way. A desk was pressed right up against the wall, its corner flush with the lower edge of the screens. It was not aesthetically pleasing. The phrase 'kissing edges' dredged itself up out of high school art class memories.
A second desk, this one of standing height, was positioned farther back. It also faced the wall.
Doctor Mother was at neither desk. She was bent over a rolling wireframe cart, stirring a mug of coffee. Her clothes matched the room: white lab coat, white shirt, black slacks. Her hair was out of its usual bun, curling around the base of her neck and bunching up over her ears.
"Good afternoon," she said. "Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to provide an update so that you won't be blindsided when you hear it from other sources."
"Appreciated."
"I also have a request."
Rebecca nodded.
The Doctor didn't waste any time. "Update first: Coil's civilian identity has been exposed. He's captured."
Rebecca raised her eyebrows. "And that fortress? Did he contract that former asylum inmate for a breakout? The Shaker twelve?"
"Exactly. Faultline and her team failed to extract him."
"You learned this from Contessa?" The woman was nowhere to be seen, but Doctor Mother occasionally complained about being cut off from the outside world and its flow of information.
"I did. She portaled off to some errand or other as soon as she delivered the news. Left in a huff."
"That's not like her."
The Doctor shrugged.
"And how did it happen? If we're planning to reboot the Terminus Project, what are the points of failure?"
"What have we learned?" The Doctor's tone read to Rebecca as sardonic. "What are the results and conclusion sections of the lab report going to look like?" She sighed and poured another packet of sugar into her coffee. "I'm afraid it's a tale as old as time, for the most part--one of his parahuman minions decided the terms of her employment were unacceptable."
Rebecca clenched her fists. "If that's our vision for the future, it's damn bleak. An endless succession of warlords, each toppling the last? An endless game of king of the hill? No."
Doctor Mother straightened and walked over to her standing desk. She began typing.
Rebecca's eyes were drawn to her coffee mug, notable for two reasons. One: Cauldron only ever stocked disposable paper cups as far as she knew. Two: it was the most colorful thing in the room--horizontal blue and green stripes with a pink logo of a bicycle in silhouette.
Cycling couldn't possibly be a hobby of hers, could it? Not when she insisted she barely left headquarters. Rebecca had to banish from her mind an absurd image of the Doctor riding a bike down the halls of the facility, ringing a bell mounted on the handlebar.
'Maybe it's an album cover or something.'
An image flickered to life on the wall: a supervillain mugshot, where two small information plates were held out to either side of the body so as not to cover any details of the costume. The villain was a teenage girl in a black and purple bodysuit bearing an eye logo. Dirty blonde hair framed a heart-shaped face, and she wore an irritating smirk.
"Coil's underling," the Doctor said, "She's a Thinker on par with Thomas Calvert himself, though of course, she lacks any of the experience or resources she would need to replace him in the way you described."
"She orchestrated his downfall all on her own?"
"Not exactly."The Doctor smiled gently and took a sip of coffee. "Maybe I'll let a few things blindside you after all."
Rebecca bristled. "I'm sure you're too busy to tell me every little detail."
"I'll get to the point. I think it's time we stop pretending to be scientists. I mean, the sheer amount of confirmation bias in this conversation alone…" Another sip. "Forget gathering data, we need to kludge together a prototype."
"Who? Where?"
"Accord. Boston."
"Is Contessa still refusing to lend her power to the project?"
"You can hardly blame her for hesitating to acknowledge the possibility of Cauldron's failure. And I do agree that there are better ways she could spend her precious time. So, yes. She's out."
Rebecca nodded. The nature of Contessa's power forced her to keep a strict schedule. She was booked solid right down to the last minute and second. "This is where your request comes in."
"I need you to help him along. Find ways for the PRT and Protectorate to undermine his competition while leaving his Ambassadors intact. Cooperate with him when and where you can get away with it."
Rebecca's upper lip curled. "Accord gained his powers naturally. He's not an entirely stable element."
"And he's less embedded in civilian commerce and hierarchies than Coil was. But he was able to scoop up a decent portion of Coil's assets, left to him almost as if it were written into a will."
"I may not be willing to contact him directly. Not outside of truce scenarios."
"I leave it to your judgment."
"But the rest, I can do."
"Thank you, and sorry for delaying an emergency meeting."
OOOOO
February 5, 2011
Krieg sent Colin flying with a high kick. 'Bastard!'
"Ooh"-ing and "ah"-ing emanated form the crowd of mundane gangsters ringing the fight at a distance of at least a hundred feet.
Their presence, the fact that they were egging on their boss, added one variable too many to Colin's combat prediction algorithm. He tried not to think about how easily his nano-thorns would carve through them. 'Scythe through wheat.'
A heartbeat later, Colin hit the gravel and skidded. Crunching and grounding briefly drowned out the mocking voices.
Getting up felt pointless. Krieg and his flunkies would be gone by the time he regained his feet. Colin stood anyway.
Switching his night vision mode off, the loose knot of alleys was black except for orange orbs of lamp-light. Cigarette smoke hung in the air.
Since the fight started, a call had been waiting in his suit's digital buffer, on hold. With a retinal flick, he answered.
"Colin," Dragon greeted. She sounded relieved. "I couldn't reach your workshop, so I got in touch with Dauntless. He said you went on patrol alone."
Colin tried not to attribute disapproval to her tone. He hadn't told her he'd be in costume tonight. That was the only reason she hadn't called his suit right away. "I'm heading back now."
"Maybe keep your armor on," she said.
Colin's frown relaxed a mite, letting stray, wiry hairs prickle his lips. 'Goatee needs a trim.' "You've got actual news?"
"Our prediction algorithm is spitting out weird results."
"And?"
"I'm hoping we're looking at a glitch here, or a rotten set of inputs, but our estimate for the next Endbringer attack's date is inching up hour by hour, and the one after that jumped a whole week closer."
Armsmaster stood up straight, electrified. "Stay on the line. I need to get to my terminal."