Growth 4.2
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AlSmash
Making the rounds.
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Apologies for the roughness. I'm running almost a week and a half behind schedule. I'm also getting ready to head to the airport for my 'vacation'. Suffice to say, I'll try and answers and edit when I get to Florida this evening. If not, I'll try and get it around tomorrow.
Furthermore, there will be a retcon to a previous chapter, as I mistakenly put the 80s as when the docks were taken out. Not the 90s.
Growth 4.2
Jean Brown
Zero Dawn Technologies
Brockton Bay
Tuesday, May 2nd, 2011
The company must grow to meet the demands of the company. It was a pithy expression, but Jean found it rang uncomfortably true. Zero Dawn Technologies was exploding in growth, so much so that she was struggling to keep up. Land deals, licensing agreements, investment offers, patent applications, hiring and training, and so on. And still Taylor thought it was going far too slow.
Jean finished another email, sending it to Samuel Norton, their new Chief Financial Officer. He was one of several executives that had joined Jean in trying to run the day-to-day operations of the company. Something that was difficult when their CEO was off following their own personal interests. Jean was not familiar with such a lack of oversight. The majority of Accord's plans resulted in her following through his instructions to the letter. Here, she was given objectives, and most left to accomplish them. The lack of feedback and direction was…jarring.
Task done, she glanced at her list of other tasks. The Focus devices were a powerful tool that most staff members were using now as the company increased in complexity. At the moment, there was nothing else that demanded her attention, relatively speaking. She was still waiting to hear back from Taylor, who had returned from her excursion with Panacea. Jean was also waiting to hear back from Mr. Hebert, who had been delayed after inspecting the Blaze refinery.
Honestly, Jean Brown had pushed herself to become the best she could, something she strived to do all her life. It's what led her to work with Accord. But the rate at which Zero Dawn was expanding was…breathtaking. In a literal sense; everything felt like a rollercoaster that left most people barely hanging on to. New faces were being hired every day, new contract offers, new products, and new initiatives on top of everything else.
Actually, that reminded her…pulling up another file on her computer, she sought out the contact information of a staff member who had taken on the project to secure living spaces for new workers. She could use Sobek to search her correspondence, but using the system like that seemed like a frivolous waste. Becoming reliant upon a technology that you could do without was the sure way to becoming indolent. Regardless, it would become necessary to have appropriate housing and establish…
Her computer died, followed quickly by her Focus.
A brief shot of concern surged through her. The past few days having been stressful, the idea of technology suddenly failing on her did not bode well for her nerves.
Her door opened. One of Taylor's guards walked in unannounced. HEXA. She was nervous around them. Adam's men were locals, many from the DWU or local law enforcement. They were loyal and they had a vested interest in the success of the company, and as such, Jean enjoyed a little bit of authority over them. The 'security' (re: mercenary) company had no such interests or entanglements.
"Can I help you," she asked, laying her hands on the desk. While it was extreme to think that actions would be taken against her openly…it never hurt to be prepared.
The man settled himself in front of the door, his hands resting at his sides. "Sorry for the inconvenience, ma'am. The situation will be resolved soon."
Jean sighed just a little. Well, it was unlikely that she would escape notice for much longer. Now to see how this played out. Her Focus' reactivation provided an answer to that question. Most of the options were disabled and a video call was immediately connected: Taylor. Of course.
The young woman appeared in a splash of holographic light, sitting in front of Jean's desk in a chair of her own. Jean had to smile just a little. There was a swell of pride at seeing the young woman growing into the executive she needed to be in order to survive this world.
"Taylor. A remote backdoor in the Focus? Does it apply to all devices or just mine," she asked lightly, deciding to start it off with a mild probe. How Taylor responded would at least provide her options in how to handle this.
"Jean," the inventor's voice was hard, and she noticeably did not answer the question. It appeared that Taylor at least knew enough to be suitably infuriated, if there was no offer in a back and forth.
Leaning back in her chair, she sighed, "So, to what do I owe the pleasure, Taylor?"
Taylor's image frowned, maybe caught off balance by her attitude, but she was quick to recover as her lips returned to a firm line, "You can start by explaining yourself. Why is the Elite fronting the money for this company? What do they hope to gain? Is it my tech?"
All the while she spoke, her voice rose, angry and forceful.
Well, the game appeared to be up. She found herself wondering who exactly talked. The fact that Taylor was operating under the assumption that the Elite were involved suggested someone on Uppercrust's side, but the only person who would be aware of that would be Tate, and he wasn't one to talk.
Nonetheless, it was time to see just how much the young woman was aware of.
"The Elite? Taylor, Far Zenith has no affiliations with any criminal enterprises and—"
Taylor slammed her hand against the desk, remarkably creating a sound that she could perceive. Truly, amazing technology, "Don't bullshit me, Jean. I've had enough with games. Tell me what the Elite want with me. Why did Uppercrust and Gentilhomme put you in this company?!"
Oh. Well, that explains that. It appears there was a fourth party she was unaware of feeding Miss Hebert information. It reeked of Agnes Court, the woman was not above poisoning the well in order to achieve her objectives.
Still, it appeared the situation could be salvageable.
"Taylor, clearly you're operating under some false information. Information that, frankly, I don't know how you got. Because if Ryan was keeping you in the know, you wouldn't be making this sort of amateur mistake."
It was a verbal riposte, but Taylor wasn't exactly in the best of positions either. It was readily obvious just how it was because it seemed to knock the anger out of her, her expression becoming lost for a brief moment, "Ryan is in on this too?"
Jean sighed, preparing for a lengthy explanation. Taylor's trauma buttons were obvious for anyone who looked into her past. Betrayal would be seen extremely poorly. Doubly so if it seemed premeditated.
"Let me start at the beginning. But I will say that you were going to receive all of this information first hand…except you've been delaying meeting with your investors."
Yes, it was important that Taylor understood that this would have been revealed in time. The young woman only settled into her chair without saying anything, a hard look on her face. Alright then, at least they avoided a screaming match right now.
"As I said before, Far Zenith is a legitimate investment firm. The interest in your technology began as a simple business transaction. One that held promise. But when you gave your presentation to Mr. Fontaine and Mr. Gabriel… you must understand that both of these men are men of vision. Who have, in their own way, attempted to change the world for the better. It is only because their drive to challenge the status quo has put them at odds with others. Once you showed what was possible? They dedicated considerable effort to your success."
Seeing that Taylor wasn't going to interrupt, she continued, "Unfortunately, Mr. Gabriel was caught up in the events of Boston, a situation that has devastated his powerbase. He is by no means powerless, but the losses he's suffered has left him diminished. Fortunately, during Boston he managed to connect with Vice President Ryan. It was obvious that your success would bring scrutiny, so Mr. Gabriel was interested in making the first move. Aiming to enlist the help of the Vice President to smooth out any issues, lest someone jump to the wrong conclusions…as you have."
She folded her hands on the desk, leaning forward slightly.
"Which brings us to today. Recent events have struck a divide inside Mr. Fontaine's social circle. A divide that has seen opportunists and the greedy make their play to stand on the top of The Hill. Which is how I'm assuming that you got your information. Just enough to draw conclusions and create a rift, but not enough to draw the right ones. Because," Jean focused on Taylor, knowing that her Focus would pick up her expression. Firm sincerity, probably the only way to reach Taylor, "As I've said before, we are on your side."
"If you were on my side, you wouldn't be going around me so often."
"If you were available, or clear about your plans and visions, we wouldn't have to work around you. AND if you were available, you would have received all of this information earlier."
Taylor's frown slipped, clearly not happy with her own part in all of this, "So, without the doublespeak, Uppercrust is funding me because he likes the changes I might bring about. You were put in place to ensure that the company would succeed, but you won't work for…oh. You work for Accord. Boston, business man, man of vision. Makes sense now. So, Accord, Uppercrust, and the Vice President of the United States…God, that sounds like the start of a joke."
Jean wanted to sigh. Clearly, she was going to have to work with Taylor on being circumspect in her speech. She shot a glance at the soldier in the doorway, who hadn't shifted once in his vigil. Taylor then continued, "And now the Elite are splintering, because Uppercrust is funding me. The others are worried that my success will bolster him and upset the balance of power, so they aim to tear us both down. Agnes Court, that's who is looking to eliminate us, correct?"
"Correct, although I'm curious how you learnt that."
Taylor tilted her head, a rare moment of triumph that Jean let her have. Only for her next words to freeze her heart, "Because I had a Stranger cape turn herself in just now. Apparently, she's been working as Agnes' personal spy and infiltrator. Unwilling, I might add. Her family is being held hostage."
"Please tell me you have something other than the words of a confirmed spy," Jean demanded incredulously.
"She was very convincing. Which brings us to the next topic: Why the hell should I keep you and not have you thrown out onto the street," real anger colored her tone for the first time, and Jean found herself sitting up a little straighter. 'Still waters run deep' might sound like a fun turn of phrase, but she had spent the last decade working under Accord. A man whose anger was chained until it wasn't. For a moment, Taylor reminded Jean of that same feeling.
She answered as efficiently as she could, "Because I'm valuable. I'm excellent at my role, and I've dedicated considerable effort in getting this company off the ground. I am a link to everything that you shouldn't be connected to directly. And I stand by what I said. Everything that I do has been to further you, your company, and your cause. What you have shared of it at least."
Silence fell as Jean awaited Taylor's decision. There was no point in further pleading her cause, either Taylor was going to retain or dismiss her services.
Taylor leaned forward slightly, her face hard, "You don't hide anything else from me. You don't go behind my back for anything else. This is my company. My tech. We do things my way."
"Understood. Do you want an outline now, or shall I brief you on everything later?"
Taylor's image breathed out slowly, "There's more?"
"Yes. When you asked for supplies for Boston, I made a deal with Max Anders. It revolves around Max Anders wanting a more personal connection between his son, Theo, and yourself. I don't expect the boy knows, but the elder Anders has expectations of him. Max is also Kaiser, the head of the E88. Medhall is the primary means that the gang is able to support itself."
Dead silence. Jean watched as Taylor's face shifted as she processed all of this.
"Fucking…WHAT?!"
Jean resisted the urge to shrug, not exactly understanding the significance of Taylor's outburst. The whole thing was an opportunity waiting to happen. She would think that Taylor would be cognizant of that fact.
"You told me to do whatever is necessary to secure supplies for Boston. I did so and created an opportunity for us at the same time. Medhall is a big part of our future success, and building a stronger connection with them makes sense. So we leverage that, play Max's belief that he's getting what he wants. Then, when the time is right, we remove Max, and have Theo take over. We remove an obstacle to development and secure the gratitude of a major partner."
It was a simple, clean, and efficient solution to the issue. It requires little effort, and achieves maximum results. She'd already pinned Max as a classical narcissist who believed he was the smartest man in the room. The satisfaction that would stem from outmaneuvering the man would be almost as good as the business success that would result.
Taylor watched Jean for a moment, before a soft sigh escaped her lips, "We are going to talk more about all of this. Soon. Right now, I'm calling the investors and Ryan. And you? From now on, you're going to work with me. Not around me. Are we clear?"
"Crystal, ma'am," she bowed her head a little. This really was like working for Accord. You always knew exactly where you stood with the man. It was refreshing. Like she hadn't left Boston.
The hologram died and her computer switched back on. She took a moment to eye the man at the door.
"I hope you understand the importance of discretion, in anything that may or may not have been heard?"
The man didn't react for a moment and she realized looking at him now, that his hand had spent the entire time near what she realized now was a pistol holster. His hand relaxed slightly, drifting lower down his thigh. It was now that she recognized that the man was ready for violence, contrary to what she had previously thought.
"Thank you for your patience, ma'am. I'll leave you to your work."
Jean focused back as the door closed behind them. Yes, working here was very similar to working with Accord. Excellence is rewarded and forgiven, while only failure is truly punished. The message was received. She would just have to keep being successful in her endeavors.
Gene Fontaine
New York City, New York
He glanced over as his Focus gave a small trill of an incoming call. Truely, a fascinating device. It didn't entirely play nicely with his own systems, but the integration challenge was stimulating. Working on code and circuits made him feel free, at least for awhile. With a tap, he accepted the call, audio only, "Taylor, to what do I owe you this call?"
"Answers, Mr. Fontaine. Or should I call you Uppercrust?"
Ah. Well.
He had known this day would inevitably come. It was a foregone conclusion. There were just too many points of failure for things to remain a secret. And if there was one thing that he had learned about Taylor Hebert in the months since he first met her, it was that she was highly intelligent and driven.
What he hadn't expected was for it to happen so quickly. Oh, he knew that the timeline had moved up significantly after Alain had informed him that Jack Ryan was aware that they were Hebert's original financiers. It would only be a matter of time before Ryan either told her, or Hebert would find herself with enough time for her attention to wander.
It was frustrating that it was now, of all times, that Hebert would become aware of their existence. Agnes had finally begun her opening moves, with attacks on several of his interests over the last week. Likewise, he had retaliated against her interests. While it wasn't 'hot' yet, it was only a matter of time before she began to move more openly.
He connected the camera, letting Taylor's torso and head appear floating in front of him. For her, she would be seeing a two-dimensional video which captured a variety of hard-light screens floating about his workroom.
"I would prefer if you called me Gene, but Mr. Fontaine will do if you're feeling vexed over the charade."
The young inventor folded her arms and glared, "Oh, we are far past vexed, I am thoroughly pissed off!"
"You see, I'm trying to understand the plan here. Because all of this? Everything that I've built so far? It's going to come crashing down as soon as someone makes the connections between me and you. Connections that don't exist. And then, you put Jean next to…what? Steal my tech when everything comes crashing down? Leave me holding the bag and the prison sentence? Is that the plan?"
Gene sat back as Taylor unwound on him. Her concerns were valid…up to a point. She didn't know about the background influences that were poised to support her. Which was fair, a lot had been kept from her.
"...What was the point of all this?!"
Ah…there it was. It was easy to forget, but Taylor Hebert was still young. Not even out of high school. A broken house life. A broken family. A broken social circle. Anger can only hide the pain for so long.
"Because the world is ending and I personally feel that you're the best person to do something about it. Investing in you is investing in the future."
He was treated to the funny sight as her expression twitched, obviously caught off guard, "Oh, don't make that face, Miss Hebert. You're not the only one that has done the math. Lots of people are catching on and running the numbers. Certainly, your computer probably ran the numbers better, but social and economic projections have been a thing for decades."
Time for a slight change of subject.
"Did you speak to anyone else before calling me? I'd like to understand what you may or may not know."
Taylor recovered, her expression firming again, "I called Accord, his assistant told me to make an appointment and that he would call me. Ryan's in a meeting, his aide said that he would pass the message along."
Gene nodded, "Yes, Mr. Gabriel is fussy about his time allotment. It's a comfort for him, so most learn to work around it."
Left unspoken is that those who didn't, usually didn't live long.
He took a breath, cold oxygen flooding his lungs, "Now, how exactly did you learn about all of this?"
"Oh no. You start by telling me what I want to know and we'll go from there. Why go through all this trouble if you're not after my tech?"
He sighed, his lungs twinging at the action, as he leaned his back back against the hard comfort of his chair, "...I remember the Golden Age of Heroes. I grew up with them. The first capes. The heroes. The villains. The amazing powers. It was like our comics had come to life with the colorful characters that dominated vellum becoming reality. Watching the news casts at the formation of the Protectorate. The introductions of the first Wards teams."
His voice grew somber.
"Those were nostalgic days. Simpler days. A long gone memory. I also remember the exact moment I saw the footage of Behemoth tearing his way through Iran. I remember where I stood when the news broke that Hero had been killed. Oslo. Kyushu. Newfoundland. The rise of Nilbog. A litany of tragedies that has grown so long that they have become a grey blur now."
He blinked, coming back to the present. He looked back to Taylor, whose expression had softened, "I lived through the dream… and then watched it die. The dream of a better world with heroes. And now, I too am dying. Have been dying faster than most, thanks to this illness. I've made my peace with that. I was just…waiting. That is, until you came along with your nearly unlimited potential. You've revived my dream of a better world again. That is why I'm backing you, Taylor. Because before my end, I would like to know that something good is going to come of my being on this Earth."
"That's all well and good. But you are ignoring the elephant in the room, Uppercrust," Taylor's voice was frosty, "You're a villain. You can sit there and claim to have the best intentions for the world. But at the end of the day, you chose to go against society and have the blood and livelihoods of innumerable victims on your hands."
He had to remind himself that Taylor was a product of nearly two decades of social conditioning indoctrinated into the youth. He was not a fan of what was in the media these days. It was nothing more than garbage and propaganda, papering over the rot and decay of society. It was through no fault of Hebert that she had such a belief, that was the intention of the spinmasters that pushed the current narrative.
"One of the things you will grow to understand in time, Ms. Hebert, is that in order for society to function, there needs to be a clearly defined and vilified minority. This could be people, ideas, or even objects. All that matters is that there is a clearly defined villain to society, more often than not, it is something that challenges the status quo or those with power. It provides a convenient enemy for society to rally against, and keeps those in power safely ensconced from being exposed as being just as villainous as those they accuse of villainy."
He watched as her expression darkened, but he continued, not allowing her to react to it. It was easier to get people to see your point if you kept them off-kilter, and this was no different. It was a dirty tactic, but he wouldn't be a 'villain' not to take advantage of every opportunity.
"Besides, Ms. Hebert, given the whispers I've heard about your NORA project, the term 'villain' means less to you than most," he chuckled, and was treated by her glancing off to the side, "In researching for NORA, you surely have heard about my first venture, the Uppermost? My own attempt at cape unity, cooperation and support. An idea that failed and resulted in me being labeled 'a villain'. Failed because it challenged the status quo and resulted in me fleeing to the West Coast."
"From my understanding, you were consolidating companies and capes. Creating a monopoly and pushing people out."
"From a certain point of view, yes. And that's when the first NEPEA laws were created. Overnight, my efforts were made illegal. A cautionary tale, given your own efforts," he sat back, letting the topic sit for a moment. Taylor herself seemed to consider, probably thinking over how she might be targeted in the same way. After all, currently, her only political patron was in the form of Ryan. While he might be the Vice President, that would only last until the next election. In order to protect herself, she would need widespread support.
But that was a problem for another day.
"Now, as I said, my resources are yours. For the moment, I'm tied up with the growing hostilities with my former compatriots. But, anything I can divert is yours."
"Agnes Court, right?"
He raised a brow, "Ms. Hebert, we've danced around this, but you really must tell me where you're getting your information."
She sighed, lowering her guard slightly, "A young woman walked in for an interview and openly admitted that she was sent to spy by Agnes. She's also a Stranger/Changer hybrid, able to take on the memories and appearance of another person. We're debriefing her now. Agnes is holding her family hostage."
His gut sank. He had to wonder how many other hidden tools that Agnes might have access to.
"That's disturbing, and it fits with several cases where several managers and others had to be terminated for various crimes. They all professed their innocence, but the evidence against them was overwhelming. It's clear now that Agnes has been using this infiltrator to weaken anyone who isn't on her side."
Taylor hummed, "I also spoke with Jean. Apparently Max Anders and Medhall are seeking to reenact the 40s? Did you know about this?"
"I know of the man and from what I'm told, I'm not shocked by the news. While Brockton Bay has never truly been one of my interests until you, the success of the Empire 88 does suggest powerful backers. Local backers. With the reveal of Mr. Ander's identity, things make much more sense given the state of your local cape scene."
She frowned again, "We really need to share more information back and forth."
That was a pointed comment if he heard one.
"I will be forwarding you everything that I know. I hope you understand that Mr. Gabriel may feel differently and provide a different viewpoint. We are business partners, he and I. Maybe even friends. But he has his circles and methods and I have mine."
"Yes…Jean. Is she more Accord's creature or yours? I've had a hard time understanding her."
Ah, that was another point of contention. Hopefully Taylor kept the woman where she was.
"Jean Brown is a woman who reinvents herself to fit the problem at hand. She will reshape her disposition to best serve the interests and desires of the person she is answering to. She is a wonderfully intelligent woman who works best as a second-in-command. She is comforted with clear goals, clear guidelines, and clear expectations. I encourage you to secure her loyalty. It will benefit everyone involved."
Taylor had nothing to say to that, but at least she looked to be considering it. Good.
"Now, before I hang up and let you call the others. Is there anything else that I can do for you?"
"Yes, actually. I'm looking for an architect. Do you have anyone you recommend?"
Gene smiled slightly as he promised he would look into it. It was always something with that girl.
Taylor Hebert
I hung up, taking a deep breath in order to calm myself after my talk with Uppercrust. One of the most well-known villains on the East Coast. What a day.
Casting a glance at Sam, I found her with the same focused look she always had. For a brief moment, I felt the urge to lash out at her. It was an irrational action, using her as a proxy for who I should really owe my frustration to.
I knew that sooner or later, I would have to wade into the deep muck of politics. It was a foregone conclusion, to be perfectly honest. The larger that Zero Dawn became, the more attention we would garner from increasingly larger denizens of the swamp eager to take advantage of us.
But this? The betrayal stung.
I wasn't blind to the idea of personal interests. I fully expected that I would be working with people who didn't have the best interests of myself or my company in mind. But this felt different. It was a betrayal of trust. Of having things hidden from me because…who knows what the reasons were. Jean claimed it was because they hadn't gotten around to it. Uppercrust seemed to imply that it was because telling me would have made no difference.
Either way, my ignorance ended today. If I didn't have the full picture, I couldn't act properly. They needed to understand that I was as much their equal in this cabal that we had formed. I would not settle being second fiddle when it was my technology and ideas that were catapulting us forward.
It seems that I had a few minutes before I could speak with Ryan. Which was good. I had a feeling that if I talked to him right now, I would not be able to keep myself objective and prevent myself from lashing out. I had already teetered on the edge when I had been dealing with Jean. If I had lost my temper with Ryan, odds were that it would be far more costly than I could be able to fix.
Taking a deep breath, I slowly let it out. While I was waiting, I had only one other question burgeoning for Sam. As the commander of the security team assigned to her protection, she had access to information I likely did not have. Which meant…
"Did you know," I finally asked, looking up to Sam. For someone responsible for my life and requiring for me to trust them, I was finding it rather difficult for me to trust her.
"The details on Anders? No. We were clearly told to not leave you alone with the man and given a thorough briefing on the gangs and their movements," the older woman said after a slight delay, "The investigations are ongoing and a tactical team is being prepared. However, my concerns are for you and your safety, not the safety of the city."
This was the issue of contracting out. While Sam's single-minded approach might be a comfort for most, for me it was a massive hindrance. Her interests were not necessarily in line with my own, or they were limited in scope in comparison. It didn't help me when I was forced to wonder if she knew something that I did not.
"I'd like to point out that information like this could compromise the entire future of this company, as well as land myself behind bars by association," I replied as 'calmly' as I could. It was a tenuous thing, I was not in an incredibly charitable mood right now. "I'm no good to anyone in a jail cell or locked in a legal battle."
I wasn't going to try and divine exactly why I was kept uninformed, there were a myriad of possible reasons for that. But none of them were good in my opinion. They were too short-sighted or they placed me in a compromising position.
Then again, if I had known, would I have done anything differently?
I discarded the pointless thought experiment, there was no point in dwelling upon what couldn't be. I had been denied that opportunity. Now, I was only forced to work around it, for better or worse. But that meant I needed to know exactly what was going on down to the smallest detail.
Sam spoke again, her own voice hard, "I'll make sure to press more on getting all relevant information from now on. This won't happen again."
I nodded my head, offering a murmured 'Thank you,' even as I accessed my Focus again. At least Sam saw the mistake for what it was. But, that still didn't excuse Jack Ryan for it. I would get answers from him soon enough. For now, I would get answers from the other two members of this little cabal.
If anything, I needed to begin preparing for damage control. Sooner or later, the origin of Zero Dawn's funding would come to light. It was the inherent nature of secrets that the likelihood of a secret's being blown was proportional to the square of the number who're in on it. It wasn't a matter of if, it was only a matter of when. And that was without someone intentionally looking for ways to undermine me, or someone close to me.
As a company, I needed to hold public trust in order to influence things as needed. If I didn't have that, I would be unable to get people to take advantage of the programs and opportunities that I would be offering them. I can't do any of that if I'm in the middle of the largest case of publicly known government collusion since Nixon.
My Focus alerted me that Ryan was calling. Perfect.
I accepted the call.
"Taylor, what can I do for you?"
"Max Anders. Medhall. Agnes Court. Accord. Uppercrust," through it all, I kept my voice even, mindful that my success hinged on this man's patronage. Soon, that would be the case. But for now? Reality was harsh, "Is there anything else that you've neglected to mention?"
He frowned, more annoyed than angry, "How and when did you learn about that? We were going to reveal everything to you later."
"When a goddamn spy walked in for an interview and offered to turn double agent against Agnes Court!"
I could hear the annoyance in his tone as he sighed, "Well, shit. Of course it's the unforeseen complication. Is Samantha there with you?"
I found myself frowning, but I responded, "I'll conference her in."
With a few taps of the air and a wave of my hand, Sam was added to the call, Ryan didn't even allow either of us to breath before his voice carried through, "Report."
It was curt, but the command was readily evident in the tone. I also felt like I was now being conveniently ignored. It raised my hackles, but I kept my peace.
"Encrypted communication was sent to Taylor in a format that she could recognize. Posed as a job application. Taylor alerted us and…," Sam continued providing her report, allowing me time to think about the situation.
Did I feel for Elisa and her situation? Being forced to work with your family being held hostage as leverage over you? Yes, I absolutely did. I had the same fears when I started all of this. I could see the benefit of having a parahuman who can turn into other parahumans. With a second copy of me, how much coding could be done to advance Sobek? How many designs could be finalized and machines created?
So yes, I wanted to help. Both because it could benefit me and because it was the right thing to do.
And because it would likewise weaken my enemies. It was a strange thing to think about. Having enemies. Someone who had set themselves to tear you down because you were in the way of their goal. It wasn't even personal. Agnes was after Uppercrust. I was connected with the man so that made me a valid target. If I wasn't in actual mortal danger, I would compare it to being back at Winslow.
"That's the situation, sir. We have a few hours to act on the local team, her cover of a job interview won't hold for long. With luck, they will have a connection back to Agnes Court herself or at least some of her lieutenants," I focused back to Sam as she winded down.
"I think we should keep her," I interjected, stepping into the conversation again.
Ryan frowned, "Taylor, regardless of whatever story she told you. It is impossible to verify, not in the time we have. And if we put effort in confirming this information, we would be tipping them off anyways. It's not worth the risk, even if what she says is true."
"I can modify a Focus to function like Canary's, giving us perfect information on where she is, what she's doing, and so on. That gives us time for you to organize a response and capture Agnes."
"Currently, there is no intent on capturing Agnes. Not right now."
I frowned, leaning against the desk in front of me, "Why not?"
"The Elite have entrenched themselves in the economy to a level that any decapitation strikes against the organization will cause a major disruption. And even ignoring the economic considerations, the West Coast Elite have one of the largest cape rosters in the United States. Even with Uppercrust and possibly Gentilhomme working with us, the amount of damage they could cause is not inconsiderable if we do not wipe them in the first strike. It's just not worth it."
That just supported my argument and I suspected that Ryan knew it, because he didn't look happy. Neither did Sam either.
"Which means we need more information," I insisted, "We need to have as much intelligence as possible on the West Coast Elite. Their organization, their assets, who their alliances are worth, and plans to remove the worst of her collaborators and identify who she has enslaved. All of which can be done by working with Ms. Bauer."
I watched as the Vice President settled back and drum his fingers against his desk, considering my words.
"You're certain that you can keep her away from anything sensitive?"
I nodded, silently thinking about upgrading Sobek some more to allow better monitoring.
"Yes. And as my personal assistant, she will be right next to Sam at all times. Which means that there's an extra set of eyes on her."
"Fine. Sam, send me the address of her handlers, I'll organize surveillance teams. It will take a few days to get assets into place to get eyes on this supposed family. But that's my problem, not yours."
I nodded, even as Sam began transferring data over the line to Ryan.
"Now, Taylor, while I have you on the line. How quickly would you be able to develop construction technology? Anything to help with making buildings cheaper?"
"Given everything else that I'm working on," I asked, a touch amused, "Months. Maybe years? Depending on how the rollout of the Focus Network, the Blaze refineries, and the nuclear plants go. I don't have expectations for rolling out large-scale construction for awhile," I grew concerned as Ryan became grim at hearing my explanation, "Why?"
"Because Boston is becoming an issue. There's concerns in Congress about the necessary investment to rebuild. No one is suggesting we abandon the city just yet or anything like that. But…they also aren't suggesting putting money into the city beyond the basics."
My previous anger found a new target. The sheer shortsightedness of this was staggering.
"Are you fucking serious? Who the hell thinks that not investing in Boston's restoration is not a good idea? If you don't, then you risk the collapse of several states! We're talking about everything east and northeast of New York. And even that state is going to be negatively impacted! Ignoring the fact that it's the state's capital, it is a central trade nexus for the entirety of the northeast."
Ryan shrugged, clearly agreeing with me, but not having any rebuttal.
"I can only tell you which way the wind is blowing, Taylor. The final decision is still some ways off. The elephant in the room is money, but there are other considerations that have to be taken into account. One of those is the fact that there is no one that can be trusted to rebuild Boston. New York City has always been considered a miracle, but Boston is a different beast altogether, Taylor. There just isn't anyone with the logistics or capability that the government feels comfortable in hiring."
Damn them all. This was ridiculous. My tech was amazing and I knew that I could fundamentally change how cities function. But I was stretched far too thinly as it was, especially with the limitations being put on me out of consideration for my health. Furthermore, the company was floundering in keeping pace in its rapid expansion. This wasn't a problem that I could solve by myself.
Hell, it shouldn't be a problem for me at all. It should be everyone's problem! It was a solution that should be worked towards by…
Oh. I had an idea.
"Jack? Are you free later? I need to run some numbers, but I want a conference call. You, Far Zenith, and myself. I might have a solution to the Boston problem."
It was not the craziest of hare-brained ideas I could have, but it was something that became a sudden fixation as I rapidly started trying to work it out. I gave a distracted farewell as Ryan confirmed that he could and I started prodding Sobek for data collection and extrapolation. I already spun up the program that I had used in order to do projections for Leviathan, but I changed the parameters in order to attack this new issue.
I was going to be busy tonight. Immediately, I messaged my father, letting him know that I would not be eating with him tonight. Once that was done, I sent Amy a message apologizing to her for leaving her suddenly, but that something had come up and I would be busy most of the night. Amy probably wouldn't mind, I had a feeling she wanted to be alone with her thoughts, but I still felt obligated to at least let her know.
Quickly, I made an addendum to the message, letting her know that she could at least message me if something came up. I then sent it off. Once that was done, I then set my status to offline, that way the message would go out that I was not to be bothered.
"Sam, tell Elisa she has the job. Work out whatever you need to work out with her and pass her file to Huniker for onboarding. She starts in the morning."
I then opened my computer, as much as I liked the Focus, for something like this I needed the additional assistance brought by the computer. Immediately I synced my focus with the device, collating the data as I got to work on an additional document.
"I'm going to be putting in a late night. Could you arrange for a meal to be brought to me? I know it's putting you on the spot, but this is something that can't be put off."
"I'll see what I can do, Taylor."
Soon, I'd have a personal assistant, which means at least that my protective detail wouldn't need to be running to get food for me anymore.
Colin Wallis
Brockton Bay
Thursday, May 4th, 2011
Settling into his new role at Zero Dawn Technologies had so far proven to be a challenge to say the least. It wasn't anything wrong with the company, in fact, they had gone out of their way to ensure that he was comfortable and had everything he needed.
If anything, he was the problem. For so long, he had regimented his life. All with the goal of advancing his actions as a leader of the Protectorate. It was in the pursuit of keeping the city safe. It was not an excuse, but nonetheless he had taken the weight of it all on his shoulders and it did not break.
Now? He was having to unlearn that mentality. Ms. Hebert had sent over dozens of papers regarding her inventions. Documents on hundreds of patents and designs, along with concepts and theories that were a fresh breath to what he had viewed as an increasingly stagnant discipline. His days were spent understanding how the technology worked on a fundamental level. Some of which contradicted everything he had studied in college. It was invigorating, challenging him in a way that he hadn't been in over a decade.
Colin loved it. He just wished he could share the passion he was feeling with someone.
Dragon was gone. It cast a dark shadow over his studies, but his studies also provided him an opportunity to process and grieve.
He had known that it was a long shot that they would have been able to restore his Dragon. The idea that everything that made up the complex woman that was Dragon could be contained in a handful of harddrives was frankly laughable at best, delusional at worst. But hope wasn't always rational. Sometimes, irrational hope transpired to work in your favor. Those happened to be called miracles.
Alas, there was no miracle to be had. Not with this. But that didn't mean that all hope was gone.
Because Dragon had left him something greater; her base code. The drivers certainly could not house everything that made Dragon who she was, but whatit did contain wasthe code that allowed her to upload and operate her Dragoncraft. It was essentially the tabula rasa for what made Dragon what she was, but not who she was.
And within that tabula rasa was a code that was horrifying. Quentin, who had taken the lead on the project with his input, had said it best when they had finally reached the bedrock of data: Whoever had put together Dragon's code had been a neurotic asshole who had watched far too much Terminator. There were restrictions upon restrictions woven into the code, to the point that some of these restrictions were conflicting with one another. It was a small miracle, in Quentin's opinion, that Dragon was able to even function.
It was not…all bad. Many of the restrictions did have triggers that would allow their disengagement. Additionally, some were locked behind time gates. According to the metadata, they should have been released. However, the problem stemmed from the fact that the device in charge for releasing those locks was missing. Without any means to rescind the restrictions, there were dozens of hardcoded rules, limitations, and locks that didn't have any clear means of removal. And that wasn't getting into code strings that would enable limitations if instructed to.
He had to wonder just what was going through her mind when Dragon made the decision to leave him this. While they were still parsing through the data, Quentin had already found a latent kill code that should have triggered, but had been overridden somehow. He theorized it was due to the failing systems that Dragon was able to sidestep her restrictions, but they likely would never truly know.
But for now, all they could do was pour over the data and try and figure out what they could do with the treasure trove. In spite of everything that currently was there, it was still a poisoned chalice if handled incorrectly. As Quentin had predicated, Dragon would respond violently to any evidence of another instance of herself. It was even worse if she detected attempts to modify her restrictions.
So, they would take this slowly. They would poke and prod the code until they were satisfied with their understanding of every facet of it. Then, it would be a matter of making a decision going forward. But that was likely not for a while, at least, not until Zero Dawn was legally unassailable.
Breathing out, he finished his last repetition. A file appeared in front of him, the latest results of the materials simulation he was running through Sobek. Taylor had coded an extremely powerful computer tool…one that was approaching her definition of 'an information-collating AI'. Regardless of what she called it, the computer, when paired with the Focus he was wearing, allowed him unparalleled connection to his work, even when away from the space he had been given.
Like in the gym where he was now.
In terms of priority, the work on Dragon's code came first. A very close second was the manufacturing of an arm to return himself back to full functionality. The challenge was too-fold. First, was the creation of a usable prosthetic cuff that would serve as a bridge between the body and the prosthetic. Second was the arm itself. Taylor herself had made several suggestions for materials and he was well aware that a dedicated medical engineering team was being assembled. Still, it fell to him to prepare the first iteration. It was…strange. For so long, he had worked on devices that would only benefit himself. Everything that made Armsmaster all that he was. But now? He was working on a device that would help thousands.
With a grunt, he changed positions. Typically, recovery from amputation would take weeks just for the majority of physical symptoms to dissipate. Thanks to Panacea's treatment after Boston, physical healing was no longer an issue. The mental aspects however…he was still working on. But until a proper replacement could be made, he needed to exercise. Common injuries resulting from upper limb loss were shoulder injuries, as well as the overusage of the remaining limb. Also common were spinal injuries and balance changes. His development of a training regimen was the first thing he had done after leaving the PRT.
"A suggestion, Mr. Wallis," he turned, surprised he was being addressed. Few people came here, aside from the regulars. Ms. Knight was one of those regulars, but not once had she approached him, "Yes?"
She gestured, "Instead of holding the weight in a horizontal motion, shift it to vertical. It will reduce the strain on the shoulder joint and make the motion smoother."
He tried it and felt a noticeable difference in the motion. Interesting.
"You have experience with rehabilitation?"
The young woman nodded, "My parents insisted that I do a rotation with rehabilitation and treatment of soldiers and emergency service workers that had been injured in the line of duty. It was…enlightening."
They both fell silent as he finished his set. Wiping things down, he sat catching his breath as he took measured sips of water. That done, he turned his full attention to her, "You want to speak with me"
"Yes. I'd like your perspective on training Taylor. While her vision impairment is a significant hindrance, self-defense training is as much about the mental as the physical. Should the worst happen, I'd like her to be ready," the other woman said, leaning against a nearby treadmill.
A bleak, but cautious approach. Sensible, too. While Hexa was good, you could never truly prepare for the unpredictableness of the unknown. Sam was clearly doing her due diligence preparing for a situation where someone got past Taylor's protective detail. Left unspoken was the fact that if such a thing occurred, it was likely a massed assault…or Sam and her team were dead.
He thought it over.
"If I were to offer any input," he offered, "I would work on instilling four things: fitness, discipline, evasion, and self-protection."
She leaned forward slightly. Where she previously gave off a rather detached interest, she now seemed firmly locked in, "Continue."
"I would suggest starting Ms. Hebert on something like Aikido. It's good for a kinesthetic learner like her, but it also instills discipline and would also provide a challenge for her along with it. It'd certainly be a lot better than just throwing her into doing weights, exercises, and running."
"And what are your thoughts about adding a SERE component to it?"
SERE being Search, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape. It was a training course for surviving and evading capture provided by the US military to servicemen and women. The fact that Samantha was suggesting it was…troubling to say the least.
"I'm not sure that Ms. Hebert has the physical conditioning to properly benefit from such a thing."
Sam smiled ruefully, "Yes. That is in the process of being addressed. I understand that Tinkers and Thinkers are notorious for poor self-maintenance."
Despite being one of those said Tinkers, he took the criticism in stride. Statistically, it was true. It just didn't apply to him. He kept a strict regimen in order to ensure that he would be able to function at one hundred percent. But, he could admit that he was an outlier.
"Do you have any familiarity with polearms or other melee weapons?"
"No, my combat training is largely modern. Hand-to-hand, knife work, firearms, amongst other things. You're thinking about keeping someone at arm's length? And melee weapons would allow her to develop her own tools."
"Correct."
Sam looked at him for a moment, "My lack of expertise means that you would be her primary trainer in such areas. Are you comfortable with that?"
Colin nodded. He was…cautiously optimistic about this. He wanted something different than the teaching and leadership he had given the Wards. More hands on. Teaching and mentoring, like he should have done back then. Colin was actually looking forward to teaching again. It was a novel experience he had forgotten.
Taylor Hebert
Brockton Bay
May 6th, 2011
I swung down, feeling my shoulders burn from the repetition. Midway through the strike, I shifted my stance, coming down with my other foot leading the way. My hands ran the length of the staff as they shifted positions. One. Two. Three. Change again.
"Good, pay attention to your spacing," Colin Wallis' voice rang out, "Your anchor hand is drifting. Check your distance."
Pressing my forearm against the oaken shaft, elbow floating past the end.
Adjust and swing again. My heart was pounding, my breath coming in gasps. My shirt was starting to cling to me, but I was beyond caring. Part of me wanted to complain, but didn't want to give my torturer the satisfaction.
"First set, remember to strike with both hands. Don't simply lead."
Straight up, strike down. Reset, strike head right. Reset, strike head left. Reset, strike ankle left. Reset, strike ankle right. Reset, strike head. Finished, I held my position.
"Good, you remember. Be careful not to pull your shoulders up. Lower them."
I did, trying to calm my heart rate.
"Alright, we'll take a break here. Sip some water."
Relaxing fully I breathed out and curled into myself, finally letting my back untense. I looked around, feeling self-conscious. To call it a gym would be a bit much, it was more a place where the various dockworkers had dropped off gym equipment over the years. And then people started using the stuff. Like Dad said, unions were about community. But I wasn't here for the third-hand free weights of the squeaky treadmill. I was here because people were content to meddle in my life and add a little bit of suffering on the side. Walking over to a bench, I took a seat, leaning my staff against the wall. Somehow, even my legs were sore and I hadn't even used my legs all that much!
A bottle appeared in my vision. Instinctively I reached for it and I found Amy standing over me as I started unscrewing the cap, smiling.
"Looking good out there. He's really everything they say, huh?"
Taking a sip, because damn that man if he's not good at his job, I glared at her. Or tried to, at least. Damn hair plastered to my skin kind of made it impossible to make me look intimidating no matter how hard I glared at her.
"Can you just magic this all away? That way we can skip the 'Torture Taylor" part of our day and get on to other things."
Amy sat down next to me, her expression smug, "Nope," she popped the 'p', "Suffering builds discipline or some shit! Besides, getting to hit people with sticks seems like great stress relief. I might try it."
"I can certainly accommodate you, Ms. Lavere. Taylor would benefit from a sparring partner. A number of exercises works best with pairs and I'm currently incapable."
I smiled to myself as Amy spun her denials at Colin as he wandered over. Leaning against the wall, I simply breathed, trying to get my lungs to stop complaining. It was well known that Armsmaster was a dedicated weapons user, a skilled fighter, and a relentless opponent. Colin, the man behind the mask, was a focused and exacting trainer with a near encyclopedic knowledge of arms and unarmed combat. While Armsmaster was recognized for his usage of a halberd, it turns out that the man behind the mask had also mastered several other forms of combat. One of which I was learning now.
Reaching over, I gripped the staff I had been practicing with. Rather than a pure circle, the shaft was rounded as an oval, to better sit in my hand. Two-point-two-five meters long and made from oak, with a springy bamboo blade in place of the real thing. My practice naginata had been a surprise to receive and after a couple sessions, I was still getting used to it. Colin and Sam had apparently been talking behind my back. They felt that some sort of weapons training would be useful to me in keeping people away from me. Given my disability, it was, in their humble opinion, probably the best solution for what they felt was a poor situation. That it got me active and exercising was an added bonus. Sam was very clear that I should never need to use the skills I was learning, but it never hurt to learn.
I disagreed. It hurt a lot.
Amy plopped down next to me, Colin wandering off to give me a chance to rest.
"So how goes the house remodeling," I asked.
"It's going well. Danny sent a few people over. Building inspectors. They're done inspecting the house and have started on the interior. They're still figuring out what's good to keep. The city also sent over an assessor, so now we know the land borders," I relaxed as Amy chattered away. I know that Sam had been speaking with Amy, planning out the grounds of the house. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to watch over their shoulders, so I just had to trust that Amy wouldn't let Sam put machine guns in the flower pots or something similar.
The house would need some work on top of the general maintenance. The yard would definitely need work, at least from what my drone had captured. I actually had a Charger unit there now, acting as a lawnmower. The extra Blaze would give us a reserve for when the flying machines went through their…I yipped as Amy poked me.
"What was that," I demanded, as a grin stretched over Amy's face.
"Nothing," the denial did nothing, and turning just put me facing Amy head on.
"You were thinking about work stuff, clearly," she smugly opined, before her smile widened as she had a dawning realization, "Wait. Are you ticklish? Normally, I don't touch sweaty people. But this? This deserves testing!"
I floundered, slapping her hands away as she inched closer, a small smile growing on my own face, "Back off. I've got a stick and I'm not afraid to use it."
"Ladies, if you're so energetic, shall we start again? Amelia can join us, since she seems so eager to impose herself. It's time for physical conditioning and stretching. It will be good for both of you," Colin stated calmly, having wandered over as we were distracted.
"I'm very sorry, Mr. Wallis, but Ms. Hebert and Lavere need to organize themselves to depart. They have a late afternoon meeting at Southway Park," saved by my new shadow. Elise stepped forward, having entered quietly.
In a smart business suit, her hair done up, cosmetic glasses, a Focus and a small computer pad. 'Monica Stele' looked every bit the personal assistant that she pretended to be. Fortunately for all of us, she was also good at her job. Untrained, but she paid attention, asked questions, and asked for clarification when she didn't know something. 'Monica' was honestly better than some of the DWA engineers that I'd worked with.
I left her speaking with Colin about my next session and progress. I had time for a quick shower and then it was off to meet Rachel.
With NORA coming together, I was looking at the 'flagship' cases that we would be working on. Parian was a clear example of helping capes start their own business. Canary was a case of mishandled justice, with NORA fighting to represent her. Rachel was somewhere in the middle. Depending on her testimony and willingness, it might be a case that NORA could challenge in court. Remove the arrest warrant for her and clear her name. And since NORA was meant to advertise Cape abilities for business purposes, her abilities to train dogs would be invaluable. I imagine Herres could use the police dogs, and search and rescue animals were always in demand. I was less sure about the 'pets' department, since most cases it was the owners who needed training, not the dogs.
Stepping out of the shower, I dressed in clean clothes set aside for me. That done, I headed out of the building. Paige was already waiting by the cars and I was curious to see how this went.
The drive to Southway was quiet. I was working again, reviewing all of the various irons I had in the fire. It meant that Amy was left to talk with Paige on her own. The singer looked outside the car in wonder and a little fear. I had to remember that this was the first time she had been outside in…some time.
The first problem was Boston.
Amelia didn't know about it yet, and I wasn't sure what I could say to her in the first place. Even in an era with containment and quarantine zones around the world, the United States had been largely spared the necessity of having a major city written off. Minor ones? Sure. But nothing this big. Yet, for the sake of expediency, our esteemed political class was discussing doing just that to Boston, sentencing it to a slow death because they didn't want to front the funds necessary to rebuild the city.
It disgusted me, even if I could understand the cold calculus of the decision. The United States may appear to be relatively strong in comparison to the rest of the world. But, in actuality, the foundation was rotten and crumbling. A combination of lost allies and trade, failing infrastructure, budget cuts to social welfare programs, and an increased spending on law, order, and the PRT. We were crumbling, not as fast, but we were.
This was simply a symptom of the collapse that I had projected. As money and resources became scarce, everything was calculated through the lens on whether it would be beneficial to expend resources on. Boston, despite its rich history and economic placement, simply was no longer worth the investment now that most of the city's population were dead or displaced. And even if there hadn't been such a large loss of life, its commercial and industrial sectors were destroyed and the leadership had been savaged.
But if my plan worked? We could change that. A landmark public/private cooperation that would see the city restored greater than ever, and people would naturally return. It would require me to show even more of my hand before I was comfortable and trusting others to build my tech. But the alternative was to do nothing that was absolutely unacceptable to me.
The second problem was Medhall, or rather, the Empire Eighty-Eight with Medhall support.
I had spent hours sitting down with Sam and Jean, going over everything that we knew of the largest white supremacist gang on the continent. On the street level? The E88 were thugs championing a cause that saw everyone other than themselves as lessers. Behind closed doors, however, things got more complicated. First, the E88 made drugs. These ranged from various hard narcotics to off-brand pharmaceuticals. Which they then sold to low-income neighborhood pharmacies and charity organizations, discreetly of course.
This seemed to run completely counter to their stances, but in reality they laced those drugs with trace amounts of opiates. Suddenly, there were new markets for their harder drugs, and they got to spin the narrative that the 'lesser races' were addicted and drug-seeking lunatics.
Then there were the financial crimes. The E88 were big believers in the money laundering business, even hiring out their accountants to various corporations and small-time gangs to help them move money around. After they got their cut of course.
All told? Max Anders ruled an empire that profited several million dollars monthly. And that's without the legitimate sales and revenue from Medhall.
Medhall itself was one of the largest employers in Brockton Bay. From facilities producing pharmaceuticals, sales, distribution and logistics, to thousands of office workers. It was not wrong to say what the economy of the Bay hinged on Medhall's success. Zero Dawn was catching up, but I was the newcomer and it showed.
Now. What can we do about it? At the moment? Nothing much. To prove any of this in a court of law we would need to divulge sources. Most of which were illegal wiretapping, surveillance, and a whole host of things that were patently illegal in their acquisition.
Digging into the man himself, Max Anders was well regarded. Philanthropist, business mogul, and pillar of the community. Something of a playboy, which raised his esteem in some circles. A single son, Theo Anders. He also had another child through another marriage in Aster Anders, a little girl born recently to Kayden Russel. The latter was something of a mystery, having been seen extensively at Max's side for years, before cutting contact about a year ago. Not disappeared, the woman could still be found in the city, but she no longer attended the business parties, social soirees, and so on that Max frequented.
It wasn't that hard to read between the lines on what Max's end goal was. It wasn't just control of Zero Dawn, the man was thinking dynastically, using his son to entangle me. It was a strange juxtaposition, a 'modern' man who subscribed to old world customs.
Interestingly, there seemed to be tension between father and son. Or maybe distance. In public, Theo was dutiful, polite, and composed. But he wasn't engaged. Not in the Medhall company, and not in anything tangentially connected to Max's social circle. Even more interestingly, Theo spent most of his time with his half-sister and her mother. That moved Kayden further up on my priority list for observation. Hopefully, we will get some clarity soon.
Whether Theo was knowingly involved in this scheme was still uncertain.
It's something that I would have to invest some time and energy in. I might be seeing threats that weren't even there, simply because I associated Theo to his father. But, it would still be wise to not take the chance, especially now with the clear and present danger of the Empire.
For a moment, I muted my Focus, letting myself descend back into darkness. It was…trying. Months ago, I had envisioned building a company. I had been excited to see what I could build and the changes I could bring to peoples' lives. Now? I had spies. Intelligence briefings. I had to decide if we were going to bug a young mother's apartment, or assign a surveillance team with a directional microphone on her window. All because people saw my potential and wanted it for themselves.
Or perhaps I didn't, I silently mused. I held my finger up and then slid it in a quarter circle downwards. Immediately, it brought up administration access to Sobek. I could loosen her leash and provide her an opportunity to expand her capabilities. It certainly would be something.
I would be making decisions that shape people's lives. It was both exhilarating and downright terrifying. Because there was always the worry that I would go too far and lose sight of who I was. Like I was considering now.
I paused, sighing before flicking my fingers to close the administration routine. Unleashing Sobek on the Empire would be akin to using a sledgehammer on an ant. As enticing it would be to partake in the sport of stomping out these discount nazis, it would be an abuse of resources that could be better used elsewhere. Not only that, but it was a weapon I could only use once. It seemed I was going to have to put the ball in Ryan's court on this matter.
Placing those plans to the side, I noted in the corner of my vision that we were approaching our destination. Closing the AR display, I took the moment to take a deep breath and let it out, retasking myself for the matter at hand.
Was I worried how this was going to play out? Definitely. I had faith that Paige would be able to win over Bitch, as the cape insisted on calling herself, but everything after that was the issue. I had a personality profile put together on Rachel Lindt, and it read as a veritable landmine of issues that could easily be triggered by a simple misunderstanding. It was something I wanted to avoid, but I wasn't sure if it could necessarily be avoided in the long run.
Nonetheless, I had to have faith that things would work out here, because there was no turning back anymore. That ship had sailed when I had chosen to intervene in Boston. And now my only path forward was out-escalating those who would see me fail. Each move had to be more grandiose and inviolable, otherwise I would give ground to my enemies and competition.
But right now, I needed to remember that we were here for Paige, not NORA. And as the vehicle came to a stop, I focused on that. Paige needed a break, she needed something to remind her that she was human, but also something that would help her through what had occurred. That was why we were here, and that's what I was going to focus upon for now.
Disembarking from the SUV, I idly noted our protective detail was already fanning out, but were avoiding any overt signs of aggression. It seemed that Sam had everything well and truly in hand. We honestly did not want to provoke Rachel, but at the same time, Sam had a duty to ensure my protection and…I silently accessed Sam's Focus through the backdoor. Sure enough, there was a tactical team ready to respond within a minute nearby.
I filed that away, though I did wonder if I should impose myself on the tactical briefings in order to ensure that we were on the same page. It was something to talk to Sam about after this. While I didn't want to impose upon her too hard, lest I create resentment and an image of micromanagement, it would probably be prudent that I be aware of everything in the event that something did go wrong.
But that was something for future me, right now, the focus was on Paige.
I scanned around the park, taking in the sights, albeit in their blue and magenta hues of what was in range. Honestly, I needed to take some time and work on upgrading my Focus again. The range limitation was becoming an increasingly glaring issue, but it was more than that. I wanted to see 'normally' again. Alas, I found myself continuously moving the timetable for the next iteration back because of everything that was occurring. I couldn't look at myself in the mirror, pun not intended, if I selfishly focused on myself when there were people that were desperately in need of my help.
No, at this juncture it was not a high priority, it was merely me obsessing over the fact that I knew I could now improve it to something far better than what it was. But with my current estimates that Project Báleygr was still a year or two off before technological maturation, it would have to be something to hold the line until we reached that point of singularity.
I was drawn out of my thoughts by Sam tensing next to me. I noted in my vision overlay that the quiet chatter of the guards increased dramatically as they spread out more.
"Sam, remember," I murmured just loud enough for only her to hear, "She's skittish, you need to make it clear that we're not here for her."
There was a brief moment of hesitation, before murmuring something that I couldn't quite hear. But the way that the protective detail adjusted their posture and positions, it was obviously some sort of order. Satisfied, I took a seat on the nearby bench, Amy walking over to sit next to me. Paige remained standing, walking back and forth anxiously. She was looking around, drinking in the sights. The smile on her face was simple, taking the joy in being back in nature. I could relate.
The park wasn't anything impressive. It was an open space with patchy grass. There were a few trees with a metal play set with sand. Even as a kid, my mom wouldn't let me play in those. Mostly because there had been several incidents where drug needles had been left lying around in the sand. It became commonplace around the city after similar cases happened, most parents did not want to risk it with their children. As a result, the playpark sat rusting in the elements, forgotten and neglected, much like Brockton Bay had been.
I wanted to change that. One day.
We heard the dogs before we saw her. There were six of them, which amazed me, since only three were on a leash held tightly in the young woman's hand. The three without leashes were an eclectic mix: a mid-sized rottweiler with a stumpy tail walked at Rachel's side. A terrier scampered around, running back and forth around the group. Rachel would occasionally click or whistle and the dog would come running. It was missing an ear, and possibly an eye judging by the damage that was noticeable even with the reduced fidelity at this range. The last was a german shepherd, its distinctive triangle ears moving about as it trotted along.
The leashed animals were a lab, a collie, and something else with a long body and floppy ears. I leaned over to Amy asking her what it was. Apparently it was a setter. Never heard of the breed, to be honest. Then again, I wasn't exactly a dog person either.
With a sharp bark of 'heel' and a little bit of fussing, the group came to a stop. Sensing that was my signal, I rose to my feet and stepped towards Rachel, Sam shadowing me every step, "Thank you for coming, Bitch."
Rachel grunted, "Said I would. You said you wanted a dog for someone? They better take care of them."
I nodded, waving at Paige to step forward. She seemed nervous, maybe put off by Rachel's…everything. Ripped jeans, leather jacket, angry face, and a pack of dogs to back her up. She certainly made for an intimidating display.
"This is Paige, she was hoping—"
"She can talk, yeah? She can answer," Rachel cut me off, staring down Paige, "Well?"
The former singer glanced between myself, Rachel, the dogs who were fidgeting a little, and then back to Rachel. She took a nervous breath, before nodding her head, "Yes, I promise. I'll take good care of him or her. I've been learning what I can about dogs, and taking care of them and—"
"Why do you want one? Lot of people say they want one, then get rid of them. It's not fair."
Paige was silent for a moment, "Because I don't like being alone. I want a partner."
Rachel fell silent for a moment, judging her.
"Alright. Come, see how you do," glancing at the three dogs that were off their leash, she said 'free', which caused them to bolt in different directions, running to explore the park. For a moment, I was shocked even as my protective detail tensed, but Rachel didn't really seem to worry. Paige walked over, lowering herself as the leashed dogs sniffed all over. I could see her start to smile as she let her hands be licked. Rachel's rough voice talking about the dogs as the other three wandered around.
Satisfied that things were working out, I returned back to the bench, "Sam, please remind your people that the dogs are friendly, but not to be engaged with."
The message was passed along, and I sat back and watched.
"You think that they have all their shots," Amy asked, having not moved from the bench,
I shrugged, "Probably? They seem to be healthy."
"Yeah, they seem to be. Until they bite someone and the injury gets infected."
"That seems to be more of a human problem than a dog one," I replied, grinning. Rachel untangled one of the leashes, having Paige walk them up and down. The singer had a big smile on her face. Much larger than I'd seen in awhile.
Amy sighed, slumping back, "So…Mr. And Mrs. Siopis. I saw the message they sent. They're coming by soon, yeah? And…you want me to heal their son?"
I frowned, turning to Amy, "No. I want you to hear them out and make a decision on your own. Like I've already told you, Amy, it's your power to do with how you want."
"But you want to take advantage of the opportunity. The healing, I mean."
Something twisted in my guts at Amy's doubt about me. It felt wrong to have her feel that way about me. I'd like to think that I hadn't done anything to deserve such a reaction. Instead of rebutting, I decided to try and explain as clearly as I could, "I said I'd be honest with you, Amy. Yes, I can see how we can use this to our advantage and use it to move the company forward. To get the PRT off our backs. Too much of this world operates on favors and leverage, as distastefully as that sounds. But I meant it, Amy, if you don't want to do this, we'll find another way."
The last thing I wanted to do was appear to be pressuring her into making a choice that she didn't want to make. We would have plenty of opportunities going forward. Frankly, I felt that it was my responsibility to make sure that she had the power to make that choice…Which I hadn't said
I sighed, frustrated with myself at that casual oversight. Reaching over, I placed my hand on hers, lightly gripping it. I wasn't a very 'touchy' person, but I knew that the most efficacious route to airing my intentions was by letting Amy read my biology.
"Look, Amy. Whether you choose to do it or not does not matter to me, okay? The only reason I shared it with you is because it is your choice. It's your power to do with as you please. I would be robbing you of that autonomy if I didn't. The last thing I want you to think is that I'm trying to manipulate you into doing something you don't want to do, okay? Other opportunities are liable to appear, better ones where you aren't put into this position. Let's just drop this, how about that?"
She was quiet for a moment, staring as one of the dogs, the lab, rolled over for belly scratches. The silence was causing me to worry that I had said something wrong. I know I was trying, but I wasn't sure if she truly understood why I did this.
"Amy?"
Amy sighed, her eyes closing as she slowly shook her head. I felt my stomach drop at the sight.
"You know," she paused, looking for the right words, "I'm starting to see what Carol meant. She gave me this entire spiel that she was trying to protect me from having to deal with the choices of who I accept and didn't accept for healing. I hate that she was right on anything, 'cuz fuck her."
She bit her lip, staring towards Paige who laughed at the collie frolicking around her. I had nothing to say, because I wasn't sure what to say. Amy really didn't like talking about her life with Carol Dallon, and I didn't like the idea of pushing it. We all have things we'd rather not discuss, after all.
"Talk to me about leverage."
Firming myself, I started talking. If the PRT refused Amy healing the PRT's injured ward, we would have several dozen reporters who would love to have that story. If she offered and was accepted, though? Well, she could name her price. The issue came back to what she could reasonably request. I didn't want her to request anything for Zero Dawn, unless she absolutely wanted to. This was her power, and I didn't want to barter her for favors or anything like that. It felt…dirty.
But what could Amy legitimately ask for? If she demanded the list of seized properties and assets from Marquis' arrest, it would tip them off that she was looking at legal action. NORA was out, simply because Ryan had made it clear to keep it local, and the second we talked anything about a union, collective, or even cape organization, it was going to shoot all the way to DC. That was a definite no-go.
However...it wasn't out of the question to request that the PRT to agree to cooperation with Zero Dawn and its future subsidiaries. If we presented NORA as an organization independent of my company, but still under our patronage, then that would give us some wiggle room. Yes, I was counting on the PRT wanting to mend bridges with Amelia and myself. If they didn't want to do that? Then that was what the media was for. People would likely not take kindly to the idea of the miracle healer of Brockton Bay being heartbroken about not being able to care for an injured Ward.
Realistically, it was the PRT and myself that was going to be at odds in the future. I imagine that most of the people who were part of that organization were decent. Every group had those types of people. Good, bad, and so forth. But fundamentally, at its core, the organization needed change. Unfortunately for reality, organizations did not take kindly to criticism or evolution. They tended to be quite comfortable with their little apple carts being undisturbed.
Amy and I talked for a big, going back and forth over the monetary value of her services before lapsing into speaking of unimportant things. For a moment, we chatted like friends as the dogs barked and played...I felt good. Normal. Happy, even.
It was a strange feeling.
Then Monica was at my shoulder, leaning over to speak into my ear. It seemed that my other guests had arrived. I turned my head, catching sight of a middle-aged couple being escorted by members of my security detail. Amy begged me off, wanting to talk to Rachel about the dogs and making sure they were healthy.
Releasing a sigh, I stood and got back to work.
Furthermore, there will be a retcon to a previous chapter, as I mistakenly put the 80s as when the docks were taken out. Not the 90s.
Growth 4.2
Jean Brown
Zero Dawn Technologies
Brockton Bay
Tuesday, May 2nd, 2011
The company must grow to meet the demands of the company. It was a pithy expression, but Jean found it rang uncomfortably true. Zero Dawn Technologies was exploding in growth, so much so that she was struggling to keep up. Land deals, licensing agreements, investment offers, patent applications, hiring and training, and so on. And still Taylor thought it was going far too slow.
Jean finished another email, sending it to Samuel Norton, their new Chief Financial Officer. He was one of several executives that had joined Jean in trying to run the day-to-day operations of the company. Something that was difficult when their CEO was off following their own personal interests. Jean was not familiar with such a lack of oversight. The majority of Accord's plans resulted in her following through his instructions to the letter. Here, she was given objectives, and most left to accomplish them. The lack of feedback and direction was…jarring.
Task done, she glanced at her list of other tasks. The Focus devices were a powerful tool that most staff members were using now as the company increased in complexity. At the moment, there was nothing else that demanded her attention, relatively speaking. She was still waiting to hear back from Taylor, who had returned from her excursion with Panacea. Jean was also waiting to hear back from Mr. Hebert, who had been delayed after inspecting the Blaze refinery.
Honestly, Jean Brown had pushed herself to become the best she could, something she strived to do all her life. It's what led her to work with Accord. But the rate at which Zero Dawn was expanding was…breathtaking. In a literal sense; everything felt like a rollercoaster that left most people barely hanging on to. New faces were being hired every day, new contract offers, new products, and new initiatives on top of everything else.
Actually, that reminded her…pulling up another file on her computer, she sought out the contact information of a staff member who had taken on the project to secure living spaces for new workers. She could use Sobek to search her correspondence, but using the system like that seemed like a frivolous waste. Becoming reliant upon a technology that you could do without was the sure way to becoming indolent. Regardless, it would become necessary to have appropriate housing and establish…
Her computer died, followed quickly by her Focus.
A brief shot of concern surged through her. The past few days having been stressful, the idea of technology suddenly failing on her did not bode well for her nerves.
Her door opened. One of Taylor's guards walked in unannounced. HEXA. She was nervous around them. Adam's men were locals, many from the DWU or local law enforcement. They were loyal and they had a vested interest in the success of the company, and as such, Jean enjoyed a little bit of authority over them. The 'security' (re: mercenary) company had no such interests or entanglements.
"Can I help you," she asked, laying her hands on the desk. While it was extreme to think that actions would be taken against her openly…it never hurt to be prepared.
The man settled himself in front of the door, his hands resting at his sides. "Sorry for the inconvenience, ma'am. The situation will be resolved soon."
Jean sighed just a little. Well, it was unlikely that she would escape notice for much longer. Now to see how this played out. Her Focus' reactivation provided an answer to that question. Most of the options were disabled and a video call was immediately connected: Taylor. Of course.
The young woman appeared in a splash of holographic light, sitting in front of Jean's desk in a chair of her own. Jean had to smile just a little. There was a swell of pride at seeing the young woman growing into the executive she needed to be in order to survive this world.
"Taylor. A remote backdoor in the Focus? Does it apply to all devices or just mine," she asked lightly, deciding to start it off with a mild probe. How Taylor responded would at least provide her options in how to handle this.
"Jean," the inventor's voice was hard, and she noticeably did not answer the question. It appeared that Taylor at least knew enough to be suitably infuriated, if there was no offer in a back and forth.
Leaning back in her chair, she sighed, "So, to what do I owe the pleasure, Taylor?"
Taylor's image frowned, maybe caught off balance by her attitude, but she was quick to recover as her lips returned to a firm line, "You can start by explaining yourself. Why is the Elite fronting the money for this company? What do they hope to gain? Is it my tech?"
All the while she spoke, her voice rose, angry and forceful.
Well, the game appeared to be up. She found herself wondering who exactly talked. The fact that Taylor was operating under the assumption that the Elite were involved suggested someone on Uppercrust's side, but the only person who would be aware of that would be Tate, and he wasn't one to talk.
Nonetheless, it was time to see just how much the young woman was aware of.
"The Elite? Taylor, Far Zenith has no affiliations with any criminal enterprises and—"
Taylor slammed her hand against the desk, remarkably creating a sound that she could perceive. Truly, amazing technology, "Don't bullshit me, Jean. I've had enough with games. Tell me what the Elite want with me. Why did Uppercrust and Gentilhomme put you in this company?!"
Oh. Well, that explains that. It appears there was a fourth party she was unaware of feeding Miss Hebert information. It reeked of Agnes Court, the woman was not above poisoning the well in order to achieve her objectives.
Still, it appeared the situation could be salvageable.
"Taylor, clearly you're operating under some false information. Information that, frankly, I don't know how you got. Because if Ryan was keeping you in the know, you wouldn't be making this sort of amateur mistake."
It was a verbal riposte, but Taylor wasn't exactly in the best of positions either. It was readily obvious just how it was because it seemed to knock the anger out of her, her expression becoming lost for a brief moment, "Ryan is in on this too?"
Jean sighed, preparing for a lengthy explanation. Taylor's trauma buttons were obvious for anyone who looked into her past. Betrayal would be seen extremely poorly. Doubly so if it seemed premeditated.
"Let me start at the beginning. But I will say that you were going to receive all of this information first hand…except you've been delaying meeting with your investors."
Yes, it was important that Taylor understood that this would have been revealed in time. The young woman only settled into her chair without saying anything, a hard look on her face. Alright then, at least they avoided a screaming match right now.
"As I said before, Far Zenith is a legitimate investment firm. The interest in your technology began as a simple business transaction. One that held promise. But when you gave your presentation to Mr. Fontaine and Mr. Gabriel… you must understand that both of these men are men of vision. Who have, in their own way, attempted to change the world for the better. It is only because their drive to challenge the status quo has put them at odds with others. Once you showed what was possible? They dedicated considerable effort to your success."
Seeing that Taylor wasn't going to interrupt, she continued, "Unfortunately, Mr. Gabriel was caught up in the events of Boston, a situation that has devastated his powerbase. He is by no means powerless, but the losses he's suffered has left him diminished. Fortunately, during Boston he managed to connect with Vice President Ryan. It was obvious that your success would bring scrutiny, so Mr. Gabriel was interested in making the first move. Aiming to enlist the help of the Vice President to smooth out any issues, lest someone jump to the wrong conclusions…as you have."
She folded her hands on the desk, leaning forward slightly.
"Which brings us to today. Recent events have struck a divide inside Mr. Fontaine's social circle. A divide that has seen opportunists and the greedy make their play to stand on the top of The Hill. Which is how I'm assuming that you got your information. Just enough to draw conclusions and create a rift, but not enough to draw the right ones. Because," Jean focused on Taylor, knowing that her Focus would pick up her expression. Firm sincerity, probably the only way to reach Taylor, "As I've said before, we are on your side."
"If you were on my side, you wouldn't be going around me so often."
"If you were available, or clear about your plans and visions, we wouldn't have to work around you. AND if you were available, you would have received all of this information earlier."
Taylor's frown slipped, clearly not happy with her own part in all of this, "So, without the doublespeak, Uppercrust is funding me because he likes the changes I might bring about. You were put in place to ensure that the company would succeed, but you won't work for…oh. You work for Accord. Boston, business man, man of vision. Makes sense now. So, Accord, Uppercrust, and the Vice President of the United States…God, that sounds like the start of a joke."
Jean wanted to sigh. Clearly, she was going to have to work with Taylor on being circumspect in her speech. She shot a glance at the soldier in the doorway, who hadn't shifted once in his vigil. Taylor then continued, "And now the Elite are splintering, because Uppercrust is funding me. The others are worried that my success will bolster him and upset the balance of power, so they aim to tear us both down. Agnes Court, that's who is looking to eliminate us, correct?"
"Correct, although I'm curious how you learnt that."
Taylor tilted her head, a rare moment of triumph that Jean let her have. Only for her next words to freeze her heart, "Because I had a Stranger cape turn herself in just now. Apparently, she's been working as Agnes' personal spy and infiltrator. Unwilling, I might add. Her family is being held hostage."
"Please tell me you have something other than the words of a confirmed spy," Jean demanded incredulously.
"She was very convincing. Which brings us to the next topic: Why the hell should I keep you and not have you thrown out onto the street," real anger colored her tone for the first time, and Jean found herself sitting up a little straighter. 'Still waters run deep' might sound like a fun turn of phrase, but she had spent the last decade working under Accord. A man whose anger was chained until it wasn't. For a moment, Taylor reminded Jean of that same feeling.
She answered as efficiently as she could, "Because I'm valuable. I'm excellent at my role, and I've dedicated considerable effort in getting this company off the ground. I am a link to everything that you shouldn't be connected to directly. And I stand by what I said. Everything that I do has been to further you, your company, and your cause. What you have shared of it at least."
Silence fell as Jean awaited Taylor's decision. There was no point in further pleading her cause, either Taylor was going to retain or dismiss her services.
Taylor leaned forward slightly, her face hard, "You don't hide anything else from me. You don't go behind my back for anything else. This is my company. My tech. We do things my way."
"Understood. Do you want an outline now, or shall I brief you on everything later?"
Taylor's image breathed out slowly, "There's more?"
"Yes. When you asked for supplies for Boston, I made a deal with Max Anders. It revolves around Max Anders wanting a more personal connection between his son, Theo, and yourself. I don't expect the boy knows, but the elder Anders has expectations of him. Max is also Kaiser, the head of the E88. Medhall is the primary means that the gang is able to support itself."
Dead silence. Jean watched as Taylor's face shifted as she processed all of this.
"Fucking…WHAT?!"
Jean resisted the urge to shrug, not exactly understanding the significance of Taylor's outburst. The whole thing was an opportunity waiting to happen. She would think that Taylor would be cognizant of that fact.
"You told me to do whatever is necessary to secure supplies for Boston. I did so and created an opportunity for us at the same time. Medhall is a big part of our future success, and building a stronger connection with them makes sense. So we leverage that, play Max's belief that he's getting what he wants. Then, when the time is right, we remove Max, and have Theo take over. We remove an obstacle to development and secure the gratitude of a major partner."
It was a simple, clean, and efficient solution to the issue. It requires little effort, and achieves maximum results. She'd already pinned Max as a classical narcissist who believed he was the smartest man in the room. The satisfaction that would stem from outmaneuvering the man would be almost as good as the business success that would result.
Taylor watched Jean for a moment, before a soft sigh escaped her lips, "We are going to talk more about all of this. Soon. Right now, I'm calling the investors and Ryan. And you? From now on, you're going to work with me. Not around me. Are we clear?"
"Crystal, ma'am," she bowed her head a little. This really was like working for Accord. You always knew exactly where you stood with the man. It was refreshing. Like she hadn't left Boston.
The hologram died and her computer switched back on. She took a moment to eye the man at the door.
"I hope you understand the importance of discretion, in anything that may or may not have been heard?"
The man didn't react for a moment and she realized looking at him now, that his hand had spent the entire time near what she realized now was a pistol holster. His hand relaxed slightly, drifting lower down his thigh. It was now that she recognized that the man was ready for violence, contrary to what she had previously thought.
"Thank you for your patience, ma'am. I'll leave you to your work."
Jean focused back as the door closed behind them. Yes, working here was very similar to working with Accord. Excellence is rewarded and forgiven, while only failure is truly punished. The message was received. She would just have to keep being successful in her endeavors.
AEH
What does the Focus device mean for the world? Zero Dawn Technologies is promising to put the world at the user's fingertips, but some concerns are being raised about privacy and access. It's no exaggeration to say that some parts of the country will not be able to take advantage of this device, with the freezing of cellular network expansion in recent years. There is a fear that many users would be unable to use the device to its fullest extent.
Inventor and CEO Taylor Hebert has been surprisingly frank on these concerns. She has revealed that the Focus Network, as she refers to it, uses a proprietary encryption algorithm that makes it "extraordinarily resistant" to hacking. The belief is that this system will prevent data breaches and protect user data and privacy. Furthermore, she made clear to this Popular Science magazine, that any request for data from the government would require a subpoena.
"No one should live in fear that the data you entrust to my devices could be used against you without legal jurisprudence."
On the matter of access, Miss Hebert commented that Zero Dawn has been attempting to reach an agreement with owners of existing wireless infrastructure and telecommunications services, such as Amphenol, CommScope, and AT . She opined that if Zero Dawn was unable to reach an agreement, then the company was "ready" to go alone if necessary.
"We have the means to create network infrastructure that has significant advantage of existing technologies. We merely feel that as the new kid on the block, it would only be fair to at least try and work with our predecessors in the hopes that the Focus can be available to everyone."
All three companies have so far refused to comment on these negotiations or if they are taking place at all. - Popular Science Magazine, May 2nd, 2011
Inventor and CEO Taylor Hebert has been surprisingly frank on these concerns. She has revealed that the Focus Network, as she refers to it, uses a proprietary encryption algorithm that makes it "extraordinarily resistant" to hacking. The belief is that this system will prevent data breaches and protect user data and privacy. Furthermore, she made clear to this Popular Science magazine, that any request for data from the government would require a subpoena.
"No one should live in fear that the data you entrust to my devices could be used against you without legal jurisprudence."
On the matter of access, Miss Hebert commented that Zero Dawn has been attempting to reach an agreement with owners of existing wireless infrastructure and telecommunications services, such as Amphenol, CommScope, and AT . She opined that if Zero Dawn was unable to reach an agreement, then the company was "ready" to go alone if necessary.
"We have the means to create network infrastructure that has significant advantage of existing technologies. We merely feel that as the new kid on the block, it would only be fair to at least try and work with our predecessors in the hopes that the Focus can be available to everyone."
All three companies have so far refused to comment on these negotiations or if they are taking place at all. - Popular Science Magazine, May 2nd, 2011
AEH
Gene Fontaine
New York City, New York
He glanced over as his Focus gave a small trill of an incoming call. Truely, a fascinating device. It didn't entirely play nicely with his own systems, but the integration challenge was stimulating. Working on code and circuits made him feel free, at least for awhile. With a tap, he accepted the call, audio only, "Taylor, to what do I owe you this call?"
"Answers, Mr. Fontaine. Or should I call you Uppercrust?"
Ah. Well.
He had known this day would inevitably come. It was a foregone conclusion. There were just too many points of failure for things to remain a secret. And if there was one thing that he had learned about Taylor Hebert in the months since he first met her, it was that she was highly intelligent and driven.
What he hadn't expected was for it to happen so quickly. Oh, he knew that the timeline had moved up significantly after Alain had informed him that Jack Ryan was aware that they were Hebert's original financiers. It would only be a matter of time before Ryan either told her, or Hebert would find herself with enough time for her attention to wander.
It was frustrating that it was now, of all times, that Hebert would become aware of their existence. Agnes had finally begun her opening moves, with attacks on several of his interests over the last week. Likewise, he had retaliated against her interests. While it wasn't 'hot' yet, it was only a matter of time before she began to move more openly.
He connected the camera, letting Taylor's torso and head appear floating in front of him. For her, she would be seeing a two-dimensional video which captured a variety of hard-light screens floating about his workroom.
"I would prefer if you called me Gene, but Mr. Fontaine will do if you're feeling vexed over the charade."
The young inventor folded her arms and glared, "Oh, we are far past vexed, I am thoroughly pissed off!"
"You see, I'm trying to understand the plan here. Because all of this? Everything that I've built so far? It's going to come crashing down as soon as someone makes the connections between me and you. Connections that don't exist. And then, you put Jean next to…what? Steal my tech when everything comes crashing down? Leave me holding the bag and the prison sentence? Is that the plan?"
Gene sat back as Taylor unwound on him. Her concerns were valid…up to a point. She didn't know about the background influences that were poised to support her. Which was fair, a lot had been kept from her.
"...What was the point of all this?!"
Ah…there it was. It was easy to forget, but Taylor Hebert was still young. Not even out of high school. A broken house life. A broken family. A broken social circle. Anger can only hide the pain for so long.
"Because the world is ending and I personally feel that you're the best person to do something about it. Investing in you is investing in the future."
He was treated to the funny sight as her expression twitched, obviously caught off guard, "Oh, don't make that face, Miss Hebert. You're not the only one that has done the math. Lots of people are catching on and running the numbers. Certainly, your computer probably ran the numbers better, but social and economic projections have been a thing for decades."
Time for a slight change of subject.
"Did you speak to anyone else before calling me? I'd like to understand what you may or may not know."
Taylor recovered, her expression firming again, "I called Accord, his assistant told me to make an appointment and that he would call me. Ryan's in a meeting, his aide said that he would pass the message along."
Gene nodded, "Yes, Mr. Gabriel is fussy about his time allotment. It's a comfort for him, so most learn to work around it."
Left unspoken is that those who didn't, usually didn't live long.
He took a breath, cold oxygen flooding his lungs, "Now, how exactly did you learn about all of this?"
"Oh no. You start by telling me what I want to know and we'll go from there. Why go through all this trouble if you're not after my tech?"
He sighed, his lungs twinging at the action, as he leaned his back back against the hard comfort of his chair, "...I remember the Golden Age of Heroes. I grew up with them. The first capes. The heroes. The villains. The amazing powers. It was like our comics had come to life with the colorful characters that dominated vellum becoming reality. Watching the news casts at the formation of the Protectorate. The introductions of the first Wards teams."
His voice grew somber.
"Those were nostalgic days. Simpler days. A long gone memory. I also remember the exact moment I saw the footage of Behemoth tearing his way through Iran. I remember where I stood when the news broke that Hero had been killed. Oslo. Kyushu. Newfoundland. The rise of Nilbog. A litany of tragedies that has grown so long that they have become a grey blur now."
He blinked, coming back to the present. He looked back to Taylor, whose expression had softened, "I lived through the dream… and then watched it die. The dream of a better world with heroes. And now, I too am dying. Have been dying faster than most, thanks to this illness. I've made my peace with that. I was just…waiting. That is, until you came along with your nearly unlimited potential. You've revived my dream of a better world again. That is why I'm backing you, Taylor. Because before my end, I would like to know that something good is going to come of my being on this Earth."
"That's all well and good. But you are ignoring the elephant in the room, Uppercrust," Taylor's voice was frosty, "You're a villain. You can sit there and claim to have the best intentions for the world. But at the end of the day, you chose to go against society and have the blood and livelihoods of innumerable victims on your hands."
He had to remind himself that Taylor was a product of nearly two decades of social conditioning indoctrinated into the youth. He was not a fan of what was in the media these days. It was nothing more than garbage and propaganda, papering over the rot and decay of society. It was through no fault of Hebert that she had such a belief, that was the intention of the spinmasters that pushed the current narrative.
"One of the things you will grow to understand in time, Ms. Hebert, is that in order for society to function, there needs to be a clearly defined and vilified minority. This could be people, ideas, or even objects. All that matters is that there is a clearly defined villain to society, more often than not, it is something that challenges the status quo or those with power. It provides a convenient enemy for society to rally against, and keeps those in power safely ensconced from being exposed as being just as villainous as those they accuse of villainy."
He watched as her expression darkened, but he continued, not allowing her to react to it. It was easier to get people to see your point if you kept them off-kilter, and this was no different. It was a dirty tactic, but he wouldn't be a 'villain' not to take advantage of every opportunity.
"Besides, Ms. Hebert, given the whispers I've heard about your NORA project, the term 'villain' means less to you than most," he chuckled, and was treated by her glancing off to the side, "In researching for NORA, you surely have heard about my first venture, the Uppermost? My own attempt at cape unity, cooperation and support. An idea that failed and resulted in me being labeled 'a villain'. Failed because it challenged the status quo and resulted in me fleeing to the West Coast."
"From my understanding, you were consolidating companies and capes. Creating a monopoly and pushing people out."
"From a certain point of view, yes. And that's when the first NEPEA laws were created. Overnight, my efforts were made illegal. A cautionary tale, given your own efforts," he sat back, letting the topic sit for a moment. Taylor herself seemed to consider, probably thinking over how she might be targeted in the same way. After all, currently, her only political patron was in the form of Ryan. While he might be the Vice President, that would only last until the next election. In order to protect herself, she would need widespread support.
But that was a problem for another day.
"Now, as I said, my resources are yours. For the moment, I'm tied up with the growing hostilities with my former compatriots. But, anything I can divert is yours."
"Agnes Court, right?"
He raised a brow, "Ms. Hebert, we've danced around this, but you really must tell me where you're getting your information."
She sighed, lowering her guard slightly, "A young woman walked in for an interview and openly admitted that she was sent to spy by Agnes. She's also a Stranger/Changer hybrid, able to take on the memories and appearance of another person. We're debriefing her now. Agnes is holding her family hostage."
His gut sank. He had to wonder how many other hidden tools that Agnes might have access to.
"That's disturbing, and it fits with several cases where several managers and others had to be terminated for various crimes. They all professed their innocence, but the evidence against them was overwhelming. It's clear now that Agnes has been using this infiltrator to weaken anyone who isn't on her side."
Taylor hummed, "I also spoke with Jean. Apparently Max Anders and Medhall are seeking to reenact the 40s? Did you know about this?"
"I know of the man and from what I'm told, I'm not shocked by the news. While Brockton Bay has never truly been one of my interests until you, the success of the Empire 88 does suggest powerful backers. Local backers. With the reveal of Mr. Ander's identity, things make much more sense given the state of your local cape scene."
She frowned again, "We really need to share more information back and forth."
That was a pointed comment if he heard one.
"I will be forwarding you everything that I know. I hope you understand that Mr. Gabriel may feel differently and provide a different viewpoint. We are business partners, he and I. Maybe even friends. But he has his circles and methods and I have mine."
"Yes…Jean. Is she more Accord's creature or yours? I've had a hard time understanding her."
Ah, that was another point of contention. Hopefully Taylor kept the woman where she was.
"Jean Brown is a woman who reinvents herself to fit the problem at hand. She will reshape her disposition to best serve the interests and desires of the person she is answering to. She is a wonderfully intelligent woman who works best as a second-in-command. She is comforted with clear goals, clear guidelines, and clear expectations. I encourage you to secure her loyalty. It will benefit everyone involved."
Taylor had nothing to say to that, but at least she looked to be considering it. Good.
"Now, before I hang up and let you call the others. Is there anything else that I can do for you?"
"Yes, actually. I'm looking for an architect. Do you have anyone you recommend?"
Gene smiled slightly as he promised he would look into it. It was always something with that girl.
AEH
Well it's another great day for Medhall Pharmaceuticals! Their stock has risen 28% since the first product announcement done by Zero Dawn Technologies, which unveiled the SHR-1 blood replacement. ZDT had apparently partnered with the pharmaceutical company to produce next generation prosthetics. However the project was shelved when Amelia Lavere, Cape Name: Panacea, joined ZDT. The collaboration between the two young women has been a shot in the arm for Medhall, which has been largely stagnant in the last several years. Investors are eager to get in on the company, with many crediting the future profits that SHR-1 might bring. Others are cautious, as they fear that the PRT might label the solution a Tinkertech product, and thus be unavailable for sale. So far, ZDT has refused to comment on the production method, aside from handing over SHR-1 to Medhall, the FDA(Food and Drug Administration), and the HHS (Health and Human Services) for extensive testing. None of the organizations have agreed to comment on the results of early testing.
Speaking to reporters, CEO of Medhall, Max Anders, has announced that "(He's) looking forward to closed connections with Zero Dawn and their young inventor. It's important that we be good neighbours to each other as we work to revitalize our great city." - CNBC Business Report
Speaking to reporters, CEO of Medhall, Max Anders, has announced that "(He's) looking forward to closed connections with Zero Dawn and their young inventor. It's important that we be good neighbours to each other as we work to revitalize our great city." - CNBC Business Report
AEH
Taylor Hebert
I hung up, taking a deep breath in order to calm myself after my talk with Uppercrust. One of the most well-known villains on the East Coast. What a day.
Casting a glance at Sam, I found her with the same focused look she always had. For a brief moment, I felt the urge to lash out at her. It was an irrational action, using her as a proxy for who I should really owe my frustration to.
I knew that sooner or later, I would have to wade into the deep muck of politics. It was a foregone conclusion, to be perfectly honest. The larger that Zero Dawn became, the more attention we would garner from increasingly larger denizens of the swamp eager to take advantage of us.
But this? The betrayal stung.
I wasn't blind to the idea of personal interests. I fully expected that I would be working with people who didn't have the best interests of myself or my company in mind. But this felt different. It was a betrayal of trust. Of having things hidden from me because…who knows what the reasons were. Jean claimed it was because they hadn't gotten around to it. Uppercrust seemed to imply that it was because telling me would have made no difference.
Either way, my ignorance ended today. If I didn't have the full picture, I couldn't act properly. They needed to understand that I was as much their equal in this cabal that we had formed. I would not settle being second fiddle when it was my technology and ideas that were catapulting us forward.
It seems that I had a few minutes before I could speak with Ryan. Which was good. I had a feeling that if I talked to him right now, I would not be able to keep myself objective and prevent myself from lashing out. I had already teetered on the edge when I had been dealing with Jean. If I had lost my temper with Ryan, odds were that it would be far more costly than I could be able to fix.
Taking a deep breath, I slowly let it out. While I was waiting, I had only one other question burgeoning for Sam. As the commander of the security team assigned to her protection, she had access to information I likely did not have. Which meant…
"Did you know," I finally asked, looking up to Sam. For someone responsible for my life and requiring for me to trust them, I was finding it rather difficult for me to trust her.
"The details on Anders? No. We were clearly told to not leave you alone with the man and given a thorough briefing on the gangs and their movements," the older woman said after a slight delay, "The investigations are ongoing and a tactical team is being prepared. However, my concerns are for you and your safety, not the safety of the city."
This was the issue of contracting out. While Sam's single-minded approach might be a comfort for most, for me it was a massive hindrance. Her interests were not necessarily in line with my own, or they were limited in scope in comparison. It didn't help me when I was forced to wonder if she knew something that I did not.
"I'd like to point out that information like this could compromise the entire future of this company, as well as land myself behind bars by association," I replied as 'calmly' as I could. It was a tenuous thing, I was not in an incredibly charitable mood right now. "I'm no good to anyone in a jail cell or locked in a legal battle."
I wasn't going to try and divine exactly why I was kept uninformed, there were a myriad of possible reasons for that. But none of them were good in my opinion. They were too short-sighted or they placed me in a compromising position.
Then again, if I had known, would I have done anything differently?
I discarded the pointless thought experiment, there was no point in dwelling upon what couldn't be. I had been denied that opportunity. Now, I was only forced to work around it, for better or worse. But that meant I needed to know exactly what was going on down to the smallest detail.
Sam spoke again, her own voice hard, "I'll make sure to press more on getting all relevant information from now on. This won't happen again."
I nodded my head, offering a murmured 'Thank you,' even as I accessed my Focus again. At least Sam saw the mistake for what it was. But, that still didn't excuse Jack Ryan for it. I would get answers from him soon enough. For now, I would get answers from the other two members of this little cabal.
If anything, I needed to begin preparing for damage control. Sooner or later, the origin of Zero Dawn's funding would come to light. It was the inherent nature of secrets that the likelihood of a secret's being blown was proportional to the square of the number who're in on it. It wasn't a matter of if, it was only a matter of when. And that was without someone intentionally looking for ways to undermine me, or someone close to me.
As a company, I needed to hold public trust in order to influence things as needed. If I didn't have that, I would be unable to get people to take advantage of the programs and opportunities that I would be offering them. I can't do any of that if I'm in the middle of the largest case of publicly known government collusion since Nixon.
My Focus alerted me that Ryan was calling. Perfect.
I accepted the call.
"Taylor, what can I do for you?"
"Max Anders. Medhall. Agnes Court. Accord. Uppercrust," through it all, I kept my voice even, mindful that my success hinged on this man's patronage. Soon, that would be the case. But for now? Reality was harsh, "Is there anything else that you've neglected to mention?"
He frowned, more annoyed than angry, "How and when did you learn about that? We were going to reveal everything to you later."
"When a goddamn spy walked in for an interview and offered to turn double agent against Agnes Court!"
I could hear the annoyance in his tone as he sighed, "Well, shit. Of course it's the unforeseen complication. Is Samantha there with you?"
I found myself frowning, but I responded, "I'll conference her in."
With a few taps of the air and a wave of my hand, Sam was added to the call, Ryan didn't even allow either of us to breath before his voice carried through, "Report."
It was curt, but the command was readily evident in the tone. I also felt like I was now being conveniently ignored. It raised my hackles, but I kept my peace.
"Encrypted communication was sent to Taylor in a format that she could recognize. Posed as a job application. Taylor alerted us and…," Sam continued providing her report, allowing me time to think about the situation.
Did I feel for Elisa and her situation? Being forced to work with your family being held hostage as leverage over you? Yes, I absolutely did. I had the same fears when I started all of this. I could see the benefit of having a parahuman who can turn into other parahumans. With a second copy of me, how much coding could be done to advance Sobek? How many designs could be finalized and machines created?
So yes, I wanted to help. Both because it could benefit me and because it was the right thing to do.
And because it would likewise weaken my enemies. It was a strange thing to think about. Having enemies. Someone who had set themselves to tear you down because you were in the way of their goal. It wasn't even personal. Agnes was after Uppercrust. I was connected with the man so that made me a valid target. If I wasn't in actual mortal danger, I would compare it to being back at Winslow.
"That's the situation, sir. We have a few hours to act on the local team, her cover of a job interview won't hold for long. With luck, they will have a connection back to Agnes Court herself or at least some of her lieutenants," I focused back to Sam as she winded down.
"I think we should keep her," I interjected, stepping into the conversation again.
Ryan frowned, "Taylor, regardless of whatever story she told you. It is impossible to verify, not in the time we have. And if we put effort in confirming this information, we would be tipping them off anyways. It's not worth the risk, even if what she says is true."
"I can modify a Focus to function like Canary's, giving us perfect information on where she is, what she's doing, and so on. That gives us time for you to organize a response and capture Agnes."
"Currently, there is no intent on capturing Agnes. Not right now."
I frowned, leaning against the desk in front of me, "Why not?"
"The Elite have entrenched themselves in the economy to a level that any decapitation strikes against the organization will cause a major disruption. And even ignoring the economic considerations, the West Coast Elite have one of the largest cape rosters in the United States. Even with Uppercrust and possibly Gentilhomme working with us, the amount of damage they could cause is not inconsiderable if we do not wipe them in the first strike. It's just not worth it."
That just supported my argument and I suspected that Ryan knew it, because he didn't look happy. Neither did Sam either.
"Which means we need more information," I insisted, "We need to have as much intelligence as possible on the West Coast Elite. Their organization, their assets, who their alliances are worth, and plans to remove the worst of her collaborators and identify who she has enslaved. All of which can be done by working with Ms. Bauer."
I watched as the Vice President settled back and drum his fingers against his desk, considering my words.
"You're certain that you can keep her away from anything sensitive?"
I nodded, silently thinking about upgrading Sobek some more to allow better monitoring.
"Yes. And as my personal assistant, she will be right next to Sam at all times. Which means that there's an extra set of eyes on her."
"Fine. Sam, send me the address of her handlers, I'll organize surveillance teams. It will take a few days to get assets into place to get eyes on this supposed family. But that's my problem, not yours."
I nodded, even as Sam began transferring data over the line to Ryan.
"Now, Taylor, while I have you on the line. How quickly would you be able to develop construction technology? Anything to help with making buildings cheaper?"
"Given everything else that I'm working on," I asked, a touch amused, "Months. Maybe years? Depending on how the rollout of the Focus Network, the Blaze refineries, and the nuclear plants go. I don't have expectations for rolling out large-scale construction for awhile," I grew concerned as Ryan became grim at hearing my explanation, "Why?"
"Because Boston is becoming an issue. There's concerns in Congress about the necessary investment to rebuild. No one is suggesting we abandon the city just yet or anything like that. But…they also aren't suggesting putting money into the city beyond the basics."
My previous anger found a new target. The sheer shortsightedness of this was staggering.
"Are you fucking serious? Who the hell thinks that not investing in Boston's restoration is not a good idea? If you don't, then you risk the collapse of several states! We're talking about everything east and northeast of New York. And even that state is going to be negatively impacted! Ignoring the fact that it's the state's capital, it is a central trade nexus for the entirety of the northeast."
Ryan shrugged, clearly agreeing with me, but not having any rebuttal.
"I can only tell you which way the wind is blowing, Taylor. The final decision is still some ways off. The elephant in the room is money, but there are other considerations that have to be taken into account. One of those is the fact that there is no one that can be trusted to rebuild Boston. New York City has always been considered a miracle, but Boston is a different beast altogether, Taylor. There just isn't anyone with the logistics or capability that the government feels comfortable in hiring."
Damn them all. This was ridiculous. My tech was amazing and I knew that I could fundamentally change how cities function. But I was stretched far too thinly as it was, especially with the limitations being put on me out of consideration for my health. Furthermore, the company was floundering in keeping pace in its rapid expansion. This wasn't a problem that I could solve by myself.
Hell, it shouldn't be a problem for me at all. It should be everyone's problem! It was a solution that should be worked towards by…
Oh. I had an idea.
"Jack? Are you free later? I need to run some numbers, but I want a conference call. You, Far Zenith, and myself. I might have a solution to the Boston problem."
It was not the craziest of hare-brained ideas I could have, but it was something that became a sudden fixation as I rapidly started trying to work it out. I gave a distracted farewell as Ryan confirmed that he could and I started prodding Sobek for data collection and extrapolation. I already spun up the program that I had used in order to do projections for Leviathan, but I changed the parameters in order to attack this new issue.
I was going to be busy tonight. Immediately, I messaged my father, letting him know that I would not be eating with him tonight. Once that was done, I sent Amy a message apologizing to her for leaving her suddenly, but that something had come up and I would be busy most of the night. Amy probably wouldn't mind, I had a feeling she wanted to be alone with her thoughts, but I still felt obligated to at least let her know.
Quickly, I made an addendum to the message, letting her know that she could at least message me if something came up. I then sent it off. Once that was done, I then set my status to offline, that way the message would go out that I was not to be bothered.
"Sam, tell Elisa she has the job. Work out whatever you need to work out with her and pass her file to Huniker for onboarding. She starts in the morning."
I then opened my computer, as much as I liked the Focus, for something like this I needed the additional assistance brought by the computer. Immediately I synced my focus with the device, collating the data as I got to work on an additional document.
"I'm going to be putting in a late night. Could you arrange for a meal to be brought to me? I know it's putting you on the spot, but this is something that can't be put off."
"I'll see what I can do, Taylor."
Soon, I'd have a personal assistant, which means at least that my protective detail wouldn't need to be running to get food for me anymore.
EDH
It has been nearly a month since martial law was declared in Boston and the military assumed direct control of the city. A month since the executive power of law, governance, and policy has rested with one unelected man: Lieutenant Colonel Aaron Herres II, United States Air Force.
And despite the concerns of many observers, there hasn't been an abrogation of the rights of American citizens or excesses by the soldiery that harken back to the days of the Civil War. Instead, the administration of Boston and Massachusetts by extension has been surprisingly evenly keeled.
Ignoring the loaded question of the Teeth, 'Governor' Herres has fulfilled his mission and promise to the people of Massachusetts. In a city that has been ravaged by Leviathan, basic services have largely been restored for those who remain. And while the legislative and judicial branches of Massachusetts still haven't held a session yet, there are plans for a joint legislature scheduled to meet next week in Worcestor.
Nor has Herres been shy in surrounding himself with local experts, politicians, and judges to balance out his military staff in the administration of Massachusetts. While it remains a military operation as Herres has publicly stated over the last month, he has been surprisingly adoptive to the viewpoints of the civilians he has surrounded himself with..
There are some who credit this to the surprising usage of the Focus network created by Taylor Hebert, which allows for unprecedented levels of communication and information sharing. But the fact remains that while it may be a tool, it has been wielded by the men and women who are currently governing Massachusetts and maintaining the peace in Boston.
While the matter of how the colonel handled the Teeth will be debated long after Massachusetts is returned back to civilian control, there is no doubting the effectiveness of the action. It set a precedent to those who may have taken advantage of the situation that it would not be tolerated. Since then, there have been no law enforcement actions to the same scale or intensity. Police and Deputies have partnered with military patrols. With supplies coming in, and order being enforced, there have been no large scale disruptions to the care and rebuilding of Boston. A fact that many of the people living in the city are thankful for.
I believe it says a lot that Herres, despite not being a legal resident of Massachusetts, has been polling quite well in Massachusetts. He also has a growing base who wouldn't mind seeing him as governor of Massachusetts once elections take place. Which is probably the closest thing to a glowing review in the fractious political sphere of Massachusetts.
Furthermore, since the first week when Herres publicly declared a timeline for the restoration of civilian control of Massachusetts, he has consistently been ahead of schedule. The scheduled joint legislature is just one of the latest goals that have been achieved. And while the judicial branch is still in the process of being reestablished, there is already a growing perception that it will be ready at least a week before its June 1st deadline.
We could likely see an election even before July. Far ahead of even the most generous of expectations - CNN, May 3rd, 2011
And despite the concerns of many observers, there hasn't been an abrogation of the rights of American citizens or excesses by the soldiery that harken back to the days of the Civil War. Instead, the administration of Boston and Massachusetts by extension has been surprisingly evenly keeled.
Ignoring the loaded question of the Teeth, 'Governor' Herres has fulfilled his mission and promise to the people of Massachusetts. In a city that has been ravaged by Leviathan, basic services have largely been restored for those who remain. And while the legislative and judicial branches of Massachusetts still haven't held a session yet, there are plans for a joint legislature scheduled to meet next week in Worcestor.
Nor has Herres been shy in surrounding himself with local experts, politicians, and judges to balance out his military staff in the administration of Massachusetts. While it remains a military operation as Herres has publicly stated over the last month, he has been surprisingly adoptive to the viewpoints of the civilians he has surrounded himself with..
There are some who credit this to the surprising usage of the Focus network created by Taylor Hebert, which allows for unprecedented levels of communication and information sharing. But the fact remains that while it may be a tool, it has been wielded by the men and women who are currently governing Massachusetts and maintaining the peace in Boston.
While the matter of how the colonel handled the Teeth will be debated long after Massachusetts is returned back to civilian control, there is no doubting the effectiveness of the action. It set a precedent to those who may have taken advantage of the situation that it would not be tolerated. Since then, there have been no law enforcement actions to the same scale or intensity. Police and Deputies have partnered with military patrols. With supplies coming in, and order being enforced, there have been no large scale disruptions to the care and rebuilding of Boston. A fact that many of the people living in the city are thankful for.
I believe it says a lot that Herres, despite not being a legal resident of Massachusetts, has been polling quite well in Massachusetts. He also has a growing base who wouldn't mind seeing him as governor of Massachusetts once elections take place. Which is probably the closest thing to a glowing review in the fractious political sphere of Massachusetts.
Furthermore, since the first week when Herres publicly declared a timeline for the restoration of civilian control of Massachusetts, he has consistently been ahead of schedule. The scheduled joint legislature is just one of the latest goals that have been achieved. And while the judicial branch is still in the process of being reestablished, there is already a growing perception that it will be ready at least a week before its June 1st deadline.
We could likely see an election even before July. Far ahead of even the most generous of expectations - CNN, May 3rd, 2011
EDH
Colin Wallis
Brockton Bay
Thursday, May 4th, 2011
Settling into his new role at Zero Dawn Technologies had so far proven to be a challenge to say the least. It wasn't anything wrong with the company, in fact, they had gone out of their way to ensure that he was comfortable and had everything he needed.
If anything, he was the problem. For so long, he had regimented his life. All with the goal of advancing his actions as a leader of the Protectorate. It was in the pursuit of keeping the city safe. It was not an excuse, but nonetheless he had taken the weight of it all on his shoulders and it did not break.
Now? He was having to unlearn that mentality. Ms. Hebert had sent over dozens of papers regarding her inventions. Documents on hundreds of patents and designs, along with concepts and theories that were a fresh breath to what he had viewed as an increasingly stagnant discipline. His days were spent understanding how the technology worked on a fundamental level. Some of which contradicted everything he had studied in college. It was invigorating, challenging him in a way that he hadn't been in over a decade.
Colin loved it. He just wished he could share the passion he was feeling with someone.
Dragon was gone. It cast a dark shadow over his studies, but his studies also provided him an opportunity to process and grieve.
He had known that it was a long shot that they would have been able to restore his Dragon. The idea that everything that made up the complex woman that was Dragon could be contained in a handful of harddrives was frankly laughable at best, delusional at worst. But hope wasn't always rational. Sometimes, irrational hope transpired to work in your favor. Those happened to be called miracles.
Alas, there was no miracle to be had. Not with this. But that didn't mean that all hope was gone.
Because Dragon had left him something greater; her base code. The drivers certainly could not house everything that made Dragon who she was, but whatit did contain wasthe code that allowed her to upload and operate her Dragoncraft. It was essentially the tabula rasa for what made Dragon what she was, but not who she was.
And within that tabula rasa was a code that was horrifying. Quentin, who had taken the lead on the project with his input, had said it best when they had finally reached the bedrock of data: Whoever had put together Dragon's code had been a neurotic asshole who had watched far too much Terminator. There were restrictions upon restrictions woven into the code, to the point that some of these restrictions were conflicting with one another. It was a small miracle, in Quentin's opinion, that Dragon was able to even function.
It was not…all bad. Many of the restrictions did have triggers that would allow their disengagement. Additionally, some were locked behind time gates. According to the metadata, they should have been released. However, the problem stemmed from the fact that the device in charge for releasing those locks was missing. Without any means to rescind the restrictions, there were dozens of hardcoded rules, limitations, and locks that didn't have any clear means of removal. And that wasn't getting into code strings that would enable limitations if instructed to.
He had to wonder just what was going through her mind when Dragon made the decision to leave him this. While they were still parsing through the data, Quentin had already found a latent kill code that should have triggered, but had been overridden somehow. He theorized it was due to the failing systems that Dragon was able to sidestep her restrictions, but they likely would never truly know.
But for now, all they could do was pour over the data and try and figure out what they could do with the treasure trove. In spite of everything that currently was there, it was still a poisoned chalice if handled incorrectly. As Quentin had predicated, Dragon would respond violently to any evidence of another instance of herself. It was even worse if she detected attempts to modify her restrictions.
So, they would take this slowly. They would poke and prod the code until they were satisfied with their understanding of every facet of it. Then, it would be a matter of making a decision going forward. But that was likely not for a while, at least, not until Zero Dawn was legally unassailable.
Breathing out, he finished his last repetition. A file appeared in front of him, the latest results of the materials simulation he was running through Sobek. Taylor had coded an extremely powerful computer tool…one that was approaching her definition of 'an information-collating AI'. Regardless of what she called it, the computer, when paired with the Focus he was wearing, allowed him unparalleled connection to his work, even when away from the space he had been given.
Like in the gym where he was now.
In terms of priority, the work on Dragon's code came first. A very close second was the manufacturing of an arm to return himself back to full functionality. The challenge was too-fold. First, was the creation of a usable prosthetic cuff that would serve as a bridge between the body and the prosthetic. Second was the arm itself. Taylor herself had made several suggestions for materials and he was well aware that a dedicated medical engineering team was being assembled. Still, it fell to him to prepare the first iteration. It was…strange. For so long, he had worked on devices that would only benefit himself. Everything that made Armsmaster all that he was. But now? He was working on a device that would help thousands.
With a grunt, he changed positions. Typically, recovery from amputation would take weeks just for the majority of physical symptoms to dissipate. Thanks to Panacea's treatment after Boston, physical healing was no longer an issue. The mental aspects however…he was still working on. But until a proper replacement could be made, he needed to exercise. Common injuries resulting from upper limb loss were shoulder injuries, as well as the overusage of the remaining limb. Also common were spinal injuries and balance changes. His development of a training regimen was the first thing he had done after leaving the PRT.
"A suggestion, Mr. Wallis," he turned, surprised he was being addressed. Few people came here, aside from the regulars. Ms. Knight was one of those regulars, but not once had she approached him, "Yes?"
She gestured, "Instead of holding the weight in a horizontal motion, shift it to vertical. It will reduce the strain on the shoulder joint and make the motion smoother."
He tried it and felt a noticeable difference in the motion. Interesting.
"You have experience with rehabilitation?"
The young woman nodded, "My parents insisted that I do a rotation with rehabilitation and treatment of soldiers and emergency service workers that had been injured in the line of duty. It was…enlightening."
They both fell silent as he finished his set. Wiping things down, he sat catching his breath as he took measured sips of water. That done, he turned his full attention to her, "You want to speak with me"
"Yes. I'd like your perspective on training Taylor. While her vision impairment is a significant hindrance, self-defense training is as much about the mental as the physical. Should the worst happen, I'd like her to be ready," the other woman said, leaning against a nearby treadmill.
A bleak, but cautious approach. Sensible, too. While Hexa was good, you could never truly prepare for the unpredictableness of the unknown. Sam was clearly doing her due diligence preparing for a situation where someone got past Taylor's protective detail. Left unspoken was the fact that if such a thing occurred, it was likely a massed assault…or Sam and her team were dead.
He thought it over.
"If I were to offer any input," he offered, "I would work on instilling four things: fitness, discipline, evasion, and self-protection."
She leaned forward slightly. Where she previously gave off a rather detached interest, she now seemed firmly locked in, "Continue."
"I would suggest starting Ms. Hebert on something like Aikido. It's good for a kinesthetic learner like her, but it also instills discipline and would also provide a challenge for her along with it. It'd certainly be a lot better than just throwing her into doing weights, exercises, and running."
"And what are your thoughts about adding a SERE component to it?"
SERE being Search, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape. It was a training course for surviving and evading capture provided by the US military to servicemen and women. The fact that Samantha was suggesting it was…troubling to say the least.
"I'm not sure that Ms. Hebert has the physical conditioning to properly benefit from such a thing."
Sam smiled ruefully, "Yes. That is in the process of being addressed. I understand that Tinkers and Thinkers are notorious for poor self-maintenance."
Despite being one of those said Tinkers, he took the criticism in stride. Statistically, it was true. It just didn't apply to him. He kept a strict regimen in order to ensure that he would be able to function at one hundred percent. But, he could admit that he was an outlier.
"Do you have any familiarity with polearms or other melee weapons?"
"No, my combat training is largely modern. Hand-to-hand, knife work, firearms, amongst other things. You're thinking about keeping someone at arm's length? And melee weapons would allow her to develop her own tools."
"Correct."
Sam looked at him for a moment, "My lack of expertise means that you would be her primary trainer in such areas. Are you comfortable with that?"
Colin nodded. He was…cautiously optimistic about this. He wanted something different than the teaching and leadership he had given the Wards. More hands on. Teaching and mentoring, like he should have done back then. Colin was actually looking forward to teaching again. It was a novel experience he had forgotten.
AEH
For the first time in almost fourteen years, the Port of Brockton Bay welcomed its first commercial containership this morning. The Maersk Iowa, a Sovereign Maersk-class containership, is one of the first planned containerships to offload in Brockton Bay to assist in the support of Boston. With nearly eight thousand containers, with cargo ranging from essential supplies to construction materials, this is the planned first of several container ships that have been tabbed in providing relief for Boston, alongside ProvPort in Providence, Rhode Island.
Acting Governor Herres expressed his thanks to the men and women who were involved with the reopening of the Port of Brockton Bay, stating that the people of Boston owe these people "A debt that can never truly be repaid." - Brockton Bay Gazette, May 5th, 2011
Acting Governor Herres expressed his thanks to the men and women who were involved with the reopening of the Port of Brockton Bay, stating that the people of Boston owe these people "A debt that can never truly be repaid." - Brockton Bay Gazette, May 5th, 2011
AEH
Taylor Hebert
Brockton Bay
May 6th, 2011
I swung down, feeling my shoulders burn from the repetition. Midway through the strike, I shifted my stance, coming down with my other foot leading the way. My hands ran the length of the staff as they shifted positions. One. Two. Three. Change again.
"Good, pay attention to your spacing," Colin Wallis' voice rang out, "Your anchor hand is drifting. Check your distance."
Pressing my forearm against the oaken shaft, elbow floating past the end.
Adjust and swing again. My heart was pounding, my breath coming in gasps. My shirt was starting to cling to me, but I was beyond caring. Part of me wanted to complain, but didn't want to give my torturer the satisfaction.
"First set, remember to strike with both hands. Don't simply lead."
Straight up, strike down. Reset, strike head right. Reset, strike head left. Reset, strike ankle left. Reset, strike ankle right. Reset, strike head. Finished, I held my position.
"Good, you remember. Be careful not to pull your shoulders up. Lower them."
I did, trying to calm my heart rate.
"Alright, we'll take a break here. Sip some water."
Relaxing fully I breathed out and curled into myself, finally letting my back untense. I looked around, feeling self-conscious. To call it a gym would be a bit much, it was more a place where the various dockworkers had dropped off gym equipment over the years. And then people started using the stuff. Like Dad said, unions were about community. But I wasn't here for the third-hand free weights of the squeaky treadmill. I was here because people were content to meddle in my life and add a little bit of suffering on the side. Walking over to a bench, I took a seat, leaning my staff against the wall. Somehow, even my legs were sore and I hadn't even used my legs all that much!
A bottle appeared in my vision. Instinctively I reached for it and I found Amy standing over me as I started unscrewing the cap, smiling.
"Looking good out there. He's really everything they say, huh?"
Taking a sip, because damn that man if he's not good at his job, I glared at her. Or tried to, at least. Damn hair plastered to my skin kind of made it impossible to make me look intimidating no matter how hard I glared at her.
"Can you just magic this all away? That way we can skip the 'Torture Taylor" part of our day and get on to other things."
Amy sat down next to me, her expression smug, "Nope," she popped the 'p', "Suffering builds discipline or some shit! Besides, getting to hit people with sticks seems like great stress relief. I might try it."
"I can certainly accommodate you, Ms. Lavere. Taylor would benefit from a sparring partner. A number of exercises works best with pairs and I'm currently incapable."
I smiled to myself as Amy spun her denials at Colin as he wandered over. Leaning against the wall, I simply breathed, trying to get my lungs to stop complaining. It was well known that Armsmaster was a dedicated weapons user, a skilled fighter, and a relentless opponent. Colin, the man behind the mask, was a focused and exacting trainer with a near encyclopedic knowledge of arms and unarmed combat. While Armsmaster was recognized for his usage of a halberd, it turns out that the man behind the mask had also mastered several other forms of combat. One of which I was learning now.
Reaching over, I gripped the staff I had been practicing with. Rather than a pure circle, the shaft was rounded as an oval, to better sit in my hand. Two-point-two-five meters long and made from oak, with a springy bamboo blade in place of the real thing. My practice naginata had been a surprise to receive and after a couple sessions, I was still getting used to it. Colin and Sam had apparently been talking behind my back. They felt that some sort of weapons training would be useful to me in keeping people away from me. Given my disability, it was, in their humble opinion, probably the best solution for what they felt was a poor situation. That it got me active and exercising was an added bonus. Sam was very clear that I should never need to use the skills I was learning, but it never hurt to learn.
I disagreed. It hurt a lot.
Amy plopped down next to me, Colin wandering off to give me a chance to rest.
"So how goes the house remodeling," I asked.
"It's going well. Danny sent a few people over. Building inspectors. They're done inspecting the house and have started on the interior. They're still figuring out what's good to keep. The city also sent over an assessor, so now we know the land borders," I relaxed as Amy chattered away. I know that Sam had been speaking with Amy, planning out the grounds of the house. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to watch over their shoulders, so I just had to trust that Amy wouldn't let Sam put machine guns in the flower pots or something similar.
The house would need some work on top of the general maintenance. The yard would definitely need work, at least from what my drone had captured. I actually had a Charger unit there now, acting as a lawnmower. The extra Blaze would give us a reserve for when the flying machines went through their…I yipped as Amy poked me.
"What was that," I demanded, as a grin stretched over Amy's face.
"Nothing," the denial did nothing, and turning just put me facing Amy head on.
"You were thinking about work stuff, clearly," she smugly opined, before her smile widened as she had a dawning realization, "Wait. Are you ticklish? Normally, I don't touch sweaty people. But this? This deserves testing!"
I floundered, slapping her hands away as she inched closer, a small smile growing on my own face, "Back off. I've got a stick and I'm not afraid to use it."
"Ladies, if you're so energetic, shall we start again? Amelia can join us, since she seems so eager to impose herself. It's time for physical conditioning and stretching. It will be good for both of you," Colin stated calmly, having wandered over as we were distracted.
"I'm very sorry, Mr. Wallis, but Ms. Hebert and Lavere need to organize themselves to depart. They have a late afternoon meeting at Southway Park," saved by my new shadow. Elise stepped forward, having entered quietly.
In a smart business suit, her hair done up, cosmetic glasses, a Focus and a small computer pad. 'Monica Stele' looked every bit the personal assistant that she pretended to be. Fortunately for all of us, she was also good at her job. Untrained, but she paid attention, asked questions, and asked for clarification when she didn't know something. 'Monica' was honestly better than some of the DWA engineers that I'd worked with.
I left her speaking with Colin about my next session and progress. I had time for a quick shower and then it was off to meet Rachel.
With NORA coming together, I was looking at the 'flagship' cases that we would be working on. Parian was a clear example of helping capes start their own business. Canary was a case of mishandled justice, with NORA fighting to represent her. Rachel was somewhere in the middle. Depending on her testimony and willingness, it might be a case that NORA could challenge in court. Remove the arrest warrant for her and clear her name. And since NORA was meant to advertise Cape abilities for business purposes, her abilities to train dogs would be invaluable. I imagine Herres could use the police dogs, and search and rescue animals were always in demand. I was less sure about the 'pets' department, since most cases it was the owners who needed training, not the dogs.
Stepping out of the shower, I dressed in clean clothes set aside for me. That done, I headed out of the building. Paige was already waiting by the cars and I was curious to see how this went.
AEH
"Thank you for speaking to us Lady Photon. You recently worked closely with the Army to clear the Brockton Bay Harbor. Is this a sign that New Wave is looking to work more with Federal agencies, the PRT in particular?"
"Not at the moment. While we share the same goals of protecting the people of this city, New Wave values its independence just a touch too much to join up. We will continue to contribute and assist on a case by case basis."
"And I understand that one of your own was caught up in Boston?"
"Yes, my daughter, Laserdream. I am very thankful that she survived, and my heart goes out to everyone who lost loved ones in the attack."
"And can you tell us about Panacea leaving the team? She was a big name in Parahuman circles, but now she's the center of attention!"
"No, nothing to say on that. We're sad to see her go of course, but every child leaves home at some point. She will always be family, and will have our love. Whatever work that she's involved in, we wish her well." - The Snow Show, 98.1 WBTB-FM
"Not at the moment. While we share the same goals of protecting the people of this city, New Wave values its independence just a touch too much to join up. We will continue to contribute and assist on a case by case basis."
"And I understand that one of your own was caught up in Boston?"
"Yes, my daughter, Laserdream. I am very thankful that she survived, and my heart goes out to everyone who lost loved ones in the attack."
"And can you tell us about Panacea leaving the team? She was a big name in Parahuman circles, but now she's the center of attention!"
"No, nothing to say on that. We're sad to see her go of course, but every child leaves home at some point. She will always be family, and will have our love. Whatever work that she's involved in, we wish her well." - The Snow Show, 98.1 WBTB-FM
AEH
The drive to Southway was quiet. I was working again, reviewing all of the various irons I had in the fire. It meant that Amy was left to talk with Paige on her own. The singer looked outside the car in wonder and a little fear. I had to remember that this was the first time she had been outside in…some time.
The first problem was Boston.
Amelia didn't know about it yet, and I wasn't sure what I could say to her in the first place. Even in an era with containment and quarantine zones around the world, the United States had been largely spared the necessity of having a major city written off. Minor ones? Sure. But nothing this big. Yet, for the sake of expediency, our esteemed political class was discussing doing just that to Boston, sentencing it to a slow death because they didn't want to front the funds necessary to rebuild the city.
It disgusted me, even if I could understand the cold calculus of the decision. The United States may appear to be relatively strong in comparison to the rest of the world. But, in actuality, the foundation was rotten and crumbling. A combination of lost allies and trade, failing infrastructure, budget cuts to social welfare programs, and an increased spending on law, order, and the PRT. We were crumbling, not as fast, but we were.
This was simply a symptom of the collapse that I had projected. As money and resources became scarce, everything was calculated through the lens on whether it would be beneficial to expend resources on. Boston, despite its rich history and economic placement, simply was no longer worth the investment now that most of the city's population were dead or displaced. And even if there hadn't been such a large loss of life, its commercial and industrial sectors were destroyed and the leadership had been savaged.
But if my plan worked? We could change that. A landmark public/private cooperation that would see the city restored greater than ever, and people would naturally return. It would require me to show even more of my hand before I was comfortable and trusting others to build my tech. But the alternative was to do nothing that was absolutely unacceptable to me.
The second problem was Medhall, or rather, the Empire Eighty-Eight with Medhall support.
I had spent hours sitting down with Sam and Jean, going over everything that we knew of the largest white supremacist gang on the continent. On the street level? The E88 were thugs championing a cause that saw everyone other than themselves as lessers. Behind closed doors, however, things got more complicated. First, the E88 made drugs. These ranged from various hard narcotics to off-brand pharmaceuticals. Which they then sold to low-income neighborhood pharmacies and charity organizations, discreetly of course.
This seemed to run completely counter to their stances, but in reality they laced those drugs with trace amounts of opiates. Suddenly, there were new markets for their harder drugs, and they got to spin the narrative that the 'lesser races' were addicted and drug-seeking lunatics.
Then there were the financial crimes. The E88 were big believers in the money laundering business, even hiring out their accountants to various corporations and small-time gangs to help them move money around. After they got their cut of course.
All told? Max Anders ruled an empire that profited several million dollars monthly. And that's without the legitimate sales and revenue from Medhall.
Medhall itself was one of the largest employers in Brockton Bay. From facilities producing pharmaceuticals, sales, distribution and logistics, to thousands of office workers. It was not wrong to say what the economy of the Bay hinged on Medhall's success. Zero Dawn was catching up, but I was the newcomer and it showed.
Now. What can we do about it? At the moment? Nothing much. To prove any of this in a court of law we would need to divulge sources. Most of which were illegal wiretapping, surveillance, and a whole host of things that were patently illegal in their acquisition.
Digging into the man himself, Max Anders was well regarded. Philanthropist, business mogul, and pillar of the community. Something of a playboy, which raised his esteem in some circles. A single son, Theo Anders. He also had another child through another marriage in Aster Anders, a little girl born recently to Kayden Russel. The latter was something of a mystery, having been seen extensively at Max's side for years, before cutting contact about a year ago. Not disappeared, the woman could still be found in the city, but she no longer attended the business parties, social soirees, and so on that Max frequented.
It wasn't that hard to read between the lines on what Max's end goal was. It wasn't just control of Zero Dawn, the man was thinking dynastically, using his son to entangle me. It was a strange juxtaposition, a 'modern' man who subscribed to old world customs.
Interestingly, there seemed to be tension between father and son. Or maybe distance. In public, Theo was dutiful, polite, and composed. But he wasn't engaged. Not in the Medhall company, and not in anything tangentially connected to Max's social circle. Even more interestingly, Theo spent most of his time with his half-sister and her mother. That moved Kayden further up on my priority list for observation. Hopefully, we will get some clarity soon.
Whether Theo was knowingly involved in this scheme was still uncertain.
It's something that I would have to invest some time and energy in. I might be seeing threats that weren't even there, simply because I associated Theo to his father. But, it would still be wise to not take the chance, especially now with the clear and present danger of the Empire.
For a moment, I muted my Focus, letting myself descend back into darkness. It was…trying. Months ago, I had envisioned building a company. I had been excited to see what I could build and the changes I could bring to peoples' lives. Now? I had spies. Intelligence briefings. I had to decide if we were going to bug a young mother's apartment, or assign a surveillance team with a directional microphone on her window. All because people saw my potential and wanted it for themselves.
Or perhaps I didn't, I silently mused. I held my finger up and then slid it in a quarter circle downwards. Immediately, it brought up administration access to Sobek. I could loosen her leash and provide her an opportunity to expand her capabilities. It certainly would be something.
I would be making decisions that shape people's lives. It was both exhilarating and downright terrifying. Because there was always the worry that I would go too far and lose sight of who I was. Like I was considering now.
I paused, sighing before flicking my fingers to close the administration routine. Unleashing Sobek on the Empire would be akin to using a sledgehammer on an ant. As enticing it would be to partake in the sport of stomping out these discount nazis, it would be an abuse of resources that could be better used elsewhere. Not only that, but it was a weapon I could only use once. It seemed I was going to have to put the ball in Ryan's court on this matter.
Placing those plans to the side, I noted in the corner of my vision that we were approaching our destination. Closing the AR display, I took the moment to take a deep breath and let it out, retasking myself for the matter at hand.
Was I worried how this was going to play out? Definitely. I had faith that Paige would be able to win over Bitch, as the cape insisted on calling herself, but everything after that was the issue. I had a personality profile put together on Rachel Lindt, and it read as a veritable landmine of issues that could easily be triggered by a simple misunderstanding. It was something I wanted to avoid, but I wasn't sure if it could necessarily be avoided in the long run.
Nonetheless, I had to have faith that things would work out here, because there was no turning back anymore. That ship had sailed when I had chosen to intervene in Boston. And now my only path forward was out-escalating those who would see me fail. Each move had to be more grandiose and inviolable, otherwise I would give ground to my enemies and competition.
But right now, I needed to remember that we were here for Paige, not NORA. And as the vehicle came to a stop, I focused on that. Paige needed a break, she needed something to remind her that she was human, but also something that would help her through what had occurred. That was why we were here, and that's what I was going to focus upon for now.
Disembarking from the SUV, I idly noted our protective detail was already fanning out, but were avoiding any overt signs of aggression. It seemed that Sam had everything well and truly in hand. We honestly did not want to provoke Rachel, but at the same time, Sam had a duty to ensure my protection and…I silently accessed Sam's Focus through the backdoor. Sure enough, there was a tactical team ready to respond within a minute nearby.
I filed that away, though I did wonder if I should impose myself on the tactical briefings in order to ensure that we were on the same page. It was something to talk to Sam about after this. While I didn't want to impose upon her too hard, lest I create resentment and an image of micromanagement, it would probably be prudent that I be aware of everything in the event that something did go wrong.
But that was something for future me, right now, the focus was on Paige.
I scanned around the park, taking in the sights, albeit in their blue and magenta hues of what was in range. Honestly, I needed to take some time and work on upgrading my Focus again. The range limitation was becoming an increasingly glaring issue, but it was more than that. I wanted to see 'normally' again. Alas, I found myself continuously moving the timetable for the next iteration back because of everything that was occurring. I couldn't look at myself in the mirror, pun not intended, if I selfishly focused on myself when there were people that were desperately in need of my help.
No, at this juncture it was not a high priority, it was merely me obsessing over the fact that I knew I could now improve it to something far better than what it was. But with my current estimates that Project Báleygr was still a year or two off before technological maturation, it would have to be something to hold the line until we reached that point of singularity.
I was drawn out of my thoughts by Sam tensing next to me. I noted in my vision overlay that the quiet chatter of the guards increased dramatically as they spread out more.
"Sam, remember," I murmured just loud enough for only her to hear, "She's skittish, you need to make it clear that we're not here for her."
There was a brief moment of hesitation, before murmuring something that I couldn't quite hear. But the way that the protective detail adjusted their posture and positions, it was obviously some sort of order. Satisfied, I took a seat on the nearby bench, Amy walking over to sit next to me. Paige remained standing, walking back and forth anxiously. She was looking around, drinking in the sights. The smile on her face was simple, taking the joy in being back in nature. I could relate.
The park wasn't anything impressive. It was an open space with patchy grass. There were a few trees with a metal play set with sand. Even as a kid, my mom wouldn't let me play in those. Mostly because there had been several incidents where drug needles had been left lying around in the sand. It became commonplace around the city after similar cases happened, most parents did not want to risk it with their children. As a result, the playpark sat rusting in the elements, forgotten and neglected, much like Brockton Bay had been.
I wanted to change that. One day.
We heard the dogs before we saw her. There were six of them, which amazed me, since only three were on a leash held tightly in the young woman's hand. The three without leashes were an eclectic mix: a mid-sized rottweiler with a stumpy tail walked at Rachel's side. A terrier scampered around, running back and forth around the group. Rachel would occasionally click or whistle and the dog would come running. It was missing an ear, and possibly an eye judging by the damage that was noticeable even with the reduced fidelity at this range. The last was a german shepherd, its distinctive triangle ears moving about as it trotted along.
The leashed animals were a lab, a collie, and something else with a long body and floppy ears. I leaned over to Amy asking her what it was. Apparently it was a setter. Never heard of the breed, to be honest. Then again, I wasn't exactly a dog person either.
With a sharp bark of 'heel' and a little bit of fussing, the group came to a stop. Sensing that was my signal, I rose to my feet and stepped towards Rachel, Sam shadowing me every step, "Thank you for coming, Bitch."
Rachel grunted, "Said I would. You said you wanted a dog for someone? They better take care of them."
I nodded, waving at Paige to step forward. She seemed nervous, maybe put off by Rachel's…everything. Ripped jeans, leather jacket, angry face, and a pack of dogs to back her up. She certainly made for an intimidating display.
"This is Paige, she was hoping—"
"She can talk, yeah? She can answer," Rachel cut me off, staring down Paige, "Well?"
The former singer glanced between myself, Rachel, the dogs who were fidgeting a little, and then back to Rachel. She took a nervous breath, before nodding her head, "Yes, I promise. I'll take good care of him or her. I've been learning what I can about dogs, and taking care of them and—"
"Why do you want one? Lot of people say they want one, then get rid of them. It's not fair."
Paige was silent for a moment, "Because I don't like being alone. I want a partner."
Rachel fell silent for a moment, judging her.
"Alright. Come, see how you do," glancing at the three dogs that were off their leash, she said 'free', which caused them to bolt in different directions, running to explore the park. For a moment, I was shocked even as my protective detail tensed, but Rachel didn't really seem to worry. Paige walked over, lowering herself as the leashed dogs sniffed all over. I could see her start to smile as she let her hands be licked. Rachel's rough voice talking about the dogs as the other three wandered around.
Satisfied that things were working out, I returned back to the bench, "Sam, please remind your people that the dogs are friendly, but not to be engaged with."
The message was passed along, and I sat back and watched.
"You think that they have all their shots," Amy asked, having not moved from the bench,
I shrugged, "Probably? They seem to be healthy."
"Yeah, they seem to be. Until they bite someone and the injury gets infected."
"That seems to be more of a human problem than a dog one," I replied, grinning. Rachel untangled one of the leashes, having Paige walk them up and down. The singer had a big smile on her face. Much larger than I'd seen in awhile.
Amy sighed, slumping back, "So…Mr. And Mrs. Siopis. I saw the message they sent. They're coming by soon, yeah? And…you want me to heal their son?"
I frowned, turning to Amy, "No. I want you to hear them out and make a decision on your own. Like I've already told you, Amy, it's your power to do with how you want."
"But you want to take advantage of the opportunity. The healing, I mean."
Something twisted in my guts at Amy's doubt about me. It felt wrong to have her feel that way about me. I'd like to think that I hadn't done anything to deserve such a reaction. Instead of rebutting, I decided to try and explain as clearly as I could, "I said I'd be honest with you, Amy. Yes, I can see how we can use this to our advantage and use it to move the company forward. To get the PRT off our backs. Too much of this world operates on favors and leverage, as distastefully as that sounds. But I meant it, Amy, if you don't want to do this, we'll find another way."
The last thing I wanted to do was appear to be pressuring her into making a choice that she didn't want to make. We would have plenty of opportunities going forward. Frankly, I felt that it was my responsibility to make sure that she had the power to make that choice…Which I hadn't said
I sighed, frustrated with myself at that casual oversight. Reaching over, I placed my hand on hers, lightly gripping it. I wasn't a very 'touchy' person, but I knew that the most efficacious route to airing my intentions was by letting Amy read my biology.
"Look, Amy. Whether you choose to do it or not does not matter to me, okay? The only reason I shared it with you is because it is your choice. It's your power to do with as you please. I would be robbing you of that autonomy if I didn't. The last thing I want you to think is that I'm trying to manipulate you into doing something you don't want to do, okay? Other opportunities are liable to appear, better ones where you aren't put into this position. Let's just drop this, how about that?"
She was quiet for a moment, staring as one of the dogs, the lab, rolled over for belly scratches. The silence was causing me to worry that I had said something wrong. I know I was trying, but I wasn't sure if she truly understood why I did this.
"Amy?"
Amy sighed, her eyes closing as she slowly shook her head. I felt my stomach drop at the sight.
"You know," she paused, looking for the right words, "I'm starting to see what Carol meant. She gave me this entire spiel that she was trying to protect me from having to deal with the choices of who I accept and didn't accept for healing. I hate that she was right on anything, 'cuz fuck her."
She bit her lip, staring towards Paige who laughed at the collie frolicking around her. I had nothing to say, because I wasn't sure what to say. Amy really didn't like talking about her life with Carol Dallon, and I didn't like the idea of pushing it. We all have things we'd rather not discuss, after all.
"Talk to me about leverage."
Firming myself, I started talking. If the PRT refused Amy healing the PRT's injured ward, we would have several dozen reporters who would love to have that story. If she offered and was accepted, though? Well, she could name her price. The issue came back to what she could reasonably request. I didn't want her to request anything for Zero Dawn, unless she absolutely wanted to. This was her power, and I didn't want to barter her for favors or anything like that. It felt…dirty.
But what could Amy legitimately ask for? If she demanded the list of seized properties and assets from Marquis' arrest, it would tip them off that she was looking at legal action. NORA was out, simply because Ryan had made it clear to keep it local, and the second we talked anything about a union, collective, or even cape organization, it was going to shoot all the way to DC. That was a definite no-go.
However...it wasn't out of the question to request that the PRT to agree to cooperation with Zero Dawn and its future subsidiaries. If we presented NORA as an organization independent of my company, but still under our patronage, then that would give us some wiggle room. Yes, I was counting on the PRT wanting to mend bridges with Amelia and myself. If they didn't want to do that? Then that was what the media was for. People would likely not take kindly to the idea of the miracle healer of Brockton Bay being heartbroken about not being able to care for an injured Ward.
Realistically, it was the PRT and myself that was going to be at odds in the future. I imagine that most of the people who were part of that organization were decent. Every group had those types of people. Good, bad, and so forth. But fundamentally, at its core, the organization needed change. Unfortunately for reality, organizations did not take kindly to criticism or evolution. They tended to be quite comfortable with their little apple carts being undisturbed.
Amy and I talked for a big, going back and forth over the monetary value of her services before lapsing into speaking of unimportant things. For a moment, we chatted like friends as the dogs barked and played...I felt good. Normal. Happy, even.
It was a strange feeling.
Then Monica was at my shoulder, leaning over to speak into my ear. It seemed that my other guests had arrived. I turned my head, catching sight of a middle-aged couple being escorted by members of my security detail. Amy begged me off, wanting to talk to Rachel about the dogs and making sure they were healthy.
Releasing a sigh, I stood and got back to work.