Junior Hero (Worm OC)

[Ack]

... show of hands, people who are tempted to make a joke about how she seems to be rubbing Rob the right way?

Click to shrink...

He's sixteen, and she's a pretty girl of his own age. It would be fairly hard for her to not ... yeah, leaving it there.

 

[Ack]

... show of hands, people who are tempted to make a joke about how she seems to be rubbing Rob the right way?

Click to shrink...

More seriously, please don't. This is the SFW forum, and we don't need to do any implying about teens maybe thinking about sexuality.

 

[esotericist]

Finally got around to looking at this one, finding it interesting. Looking forward to seeing Rob's interactions with the Wards.

Seconding the thoughts that Kate is bugging me. I'd say I'm looking forward to her getting told to fuck off, but I know that can't happen until something monumentally stupid happens first.

 

[Ack]

Finally got around to looking at this one, finding it interesting. Looking forward to seeing Rob's interactions with the Wards.

Seconding the thoughts that Kate is bugging me. I'd say I'm looking forward to her getting told to fuck off, but I know that can't happen until something monumentally stupid happens first.

Click to shrink...

Yeah, she's that girl. The one that everyone knows is bad for the guy, but he can't see it. Because teen hormones.

 

[esotericist]

Yeah, she's that girl. The one that everyone knows is bad for the guy, but he can't see it. Because teen hormones.

Click to shrink...

That girl can be bad for the girl, too. I had the misfortune of having one of those as my first relationship.

Humans are so messed up sometimes.

 

[Ack]

That girl can be bad for the girl, too. I had the misfortune of having one of those as my first relationship.

Humans are so messed up sometimes.

Click to shrink...

... okay, just to get this straight. You're a girl who was in a relationship with another girl, and she was in it more for her than for you. And it went bad.

Geez, I'm sorry to hear that. Have a hug.

 

[esotericist]

... okay, just to get this straight. You're a girl who was in a relationship with another girl, and she was in it more for her than for you. And it went bad.

Geez, I'm sorry to hear that. Have a hug.

Click to shrink...

Thanks. It's just life, though. Dickishness knows no gender or sexuality constraints.

Edit: Also many years ago. I am no longer a teenager.

 

[Ack]

Thanks. It's just life, though. Dickishness knows no gender or sexuality constraints.

Edit: Also many years ago. I am no longer a teenager.

Click to shrink...

Guys can be dicks to girls, and vice versa (anatomy notwithstanding) because, in part, girls and guys have a bit of trouble understanding one anothers' deeper agendas, so it's not so hard to hide what you're really up to.

Guys can be dicks to guys, and girls to girls, maybe because we subconsciously trust our own gender. But sometimes, they really are just out to screw you (figuratively or literally) for their own ends (pun somewhat intended).

At least, that's my take on things.

 

[esotericist]

Guys can be dicks to girls, and vice versa (anatomy notwithstanding) because, in part, girls and guys have a bit of trouble understanding one anothers' deeper agendas, so it's not so hard to hide what you're really up to.

Guys can be dicks to guys, and girls to girls, maybe because we subconsciously trust our own gender. But sometimes, they really are just out to screw you (figuratively or literally) for their own ends (pun somewhat intended).

At least, that's my take on things.

Click to shrink...

Honestly? My experience is the 'mystery' of the opposite sex applies just as much for the same sex once interest is in play. Despite what pop culture seems to suggest, the cultural differences between guys and girls isn't as much a factor in "oh god how do I make this connection work with that other human I want to be with" as the simple fear of screwing it up.

When you're going after the same sex, the second-guessing of "am I interpreting things right?" isn't any different.

Here's a really funny thing: the cultural differences between guys and girls are actually highly localized, not some universal "truth of guys and truth of girls" scheme. People also have a tendency to gravitate towards social elements that are at least somewhat similar, so when someone "gets their own sex", they're really just "getting" people with similar acculturation. The same confusion about reading cues, behavioral expectations, and the like applies when dealing with a group of the same sex but a different cultural basis. We just don't care as much on a personal basis if we don't have a stake in the quality of the interaction, and that changes how we view the nature of the cultural mismatches.

Humans are funny about biases that way, but that's a much larger conversation.

Upshot is: Same sex love interest pursuit is only really 'easier' if you have a LOT more in common than is typically common since for the most part, people typically desire something different, regardless of their sexual orientation.


My apologies for the degree of off topic here.

 

[Ack]

Eh, is all good.
Was going to ask if you'd read Shadow Stalker. Went and checked, saw that you had.

 

[esotericist]

Eh, is all good.
Was going to ask if you'd read Shadow Stalker. Went and checked, saw that you had.

Click to shrink...

Yessir. The things I haven't read that are in the SFW section of your sig: MirrorVerse, One More Trigger. I found them both difficult to get into in the state of minds I was in at the times when I looked at them, but I'll probably try again at some point.

 

[Ack]

Junior Hero

Part Ten


That evening, I sat in front of my laptop, trying to figure out how to write up an operating manual for D-1 and D-3. Not to mention D-5, when I finally got around to rebuilding it.

Thinking about D-5 made me think about the concept of armour and protection. Armsmaster had pointed out that actual body armour might be a good idea. I was inclined to believe him; D-5 had performed poorly in the task of protecting me in combat, and although it had done well against the fire, it had almost killed me when it exploded.

Almost unconsciously, I picked up the notepad and began sketching out body armour that would interlock into place, that could be teleported on and off the wearer. That made me think of something else; I visualised a shield of some sort with built-in teleport circuitry, designed to keep teleporting to the same place relative to a wristband, over and over again ...

Getting up, I went to the door of my room. "Dad," I called down the stairs. "Got a question."

"Shoot," he called back.

"How far does something fall in one-twentieth of a second?"

"Point four eight of an inch," he replied immediately. "You should know that one."

"Yeah, but I don't want to get it wrong. Thanks, Dad."

"You're welcome, son."

I went back to the laptop and kept working.

<><>​

The next morning, I was tempted to lie in, and use D-1 to go straight to school, instead of suffering the long bus ride. It was what Kate was apparently doing, after all. But then I roused myself and shambled down to breakfast. I hadn't put my shoes on, and my bag was still on my bed, but otherwise I was dressed.

"Hey, champ!" my father greeted me. "I noticed your light was on pretty late last night. Studying for that big test?"

"Test?" I repeated stupidly.

"Yeah, test," he replied. "You told me about it last week. World Affairs, or something?"

The light clicked on behind my eyes. Oh shit.

I slapped myself on the forehead. "Argh! I forgot all about that!"

"Forgot all about what, honey?" asked Mom, coming out of the kitchen with a plate of bacon.

"World Affairs test," I flung over my shoulder as I dashed back upstairs. Frantically, I looked through my bag for my textbook. It wasn't there, which meant that it was in my locker. At school.

I didn't even think about what I was doing; with one hand, I grabbed my Kid Quantum mask and pulled it over my head. With the other, I grabbed D-1. Typing in coordinates as fast as I could, I hit Enter.

<><>​

I stood in the dimly lit hallway, in front of my locker. A furtive glance around assured me that no-one was in sight. So far, my luck was holding.

Squinting in the poor light, I spun the combination lock, then pulled the handle.

It didn't open.

Muttering words that I really should not have been using, I leaned closer and tried again. Left ... right .... left ... right ...

This time, it worked; the locker opened. I reached inside to grab my World Affairs textbook. It was even darker inside the locker; I had to go by feel. Grabbing what I thought was the correct one, I yanked on it. Half a dozen other books came with it, and clattered loudly on the floor.

I cringed as the echoes reverberated down the hallway, and hastily began shovelling books - and notes, too, I saw - back into the locker.

I was almost done when what I had feared happened; the lights started coming on. At the same moment, I heard a shout. "Hey! What do you think you're doing?"

I didn't even look to see who it was. The fluorescent lights were still flickering on and off; I shoved the other books into the locker, slammed the door shut, grabbed D-1 and the World Affairs textbook, and bolted. Running footsteps followed, but I had a good head start. Skidding barefoot around a corner, I shifted the textbook, grasped D-1, and hit the buttons to return me to my room.

Nothing happened.

I was just starting to panic when the world shifted, and I fell full-length over my bed.

<><>​

"Rob, are you okay up there?" my father called.

I heaved a huge sigh of relief. I had forgotten about the delay for longer jumps. "Yeah, Dad. Just fell over something."

Rolling over on to my back, I pulled the mask off. As the jump-dazzle faded and I tried to catch my breath, I thought over what had just happened.

I had just been seen.

Admittedly, I hadn't been seen well, but I had indeed been seen. Someone – I thought it was maybe the janitor, or one of the teachers – had spotted me going through my own locker. Though hopefully, the flickering lights had made it hard to get any details. Or tell them exactly which locker I had been at. That, and the mask, should maybe prevent them from figuring out that it had been me.

Climbing off the bed, I peeled off the t-shirt and replaced it with another one. That was one point of identification that I didn't want to provide.

All this for my World Affairs textbook.

Stashing D-1 and my mask back away, I hefted the textbook. Last-minute study was not ideal, but it was better than no study at all.

<><>​

Except that Mom didn't seem to think so. "Robbie!" she scolded me, even as I used the honey jar and a ketchup bottle to prop the open textbook up at the table.

"What, Mom?" I asked, trying for an innocent tone, adjusting the ketchup. "I've got a test."

"And you couldn't have been studying before this morning?" she scolded me. "While you were building those devices of yours, or going out and trying to be a superhero?"

"I wasn't just trying to be a superhero, Mom," I pointed out. "I was a superhero. I saved lives. I helped people."

"And you nearly got yourself killed into the bargain," she retorted. "Why couldn't you have gotten a safe hobby?"

"Now, Molly, the boy has a point," Dad interjected mildly. "I've seen his devices at work. They're … astounding. He could really make a difference with them, if he can make other machines using the same principles."

"I can, Dad," I assured him. "I've got about a dozen other things that I want to make. I just need the materials."

"Which you can get by joining the Wards," he finished.

"Which I can get by joining the Wards," I agreed. "But right now, I don't want to bomb out in World Affairs." I gestured to the textbook.

Mom opened her mouth to say something, but Dad shook his head slightly. She looked at him, then at me, and sighed.

"Just promise me that you'll take care, Robbie, all right?" she asked.

I nodded. "That, I can promise," I assured her. "No way do I want to have that happen again."

She smiled as she got up from her seat. On the way to the kitchen, she ruffled my hair fondly. I knew I was forgiven.

<><>​

With my shoes on my feet and my bag on my shoulder – including D-2, shoved in there at the last minute – I tried to study some more on the bus. But in between greeting my friends, the jostling of random strangers, and the jolting of the bus over Brockton Bay's admittedly substandard roads, it wasn't easy. In fact, it was leading me rapidly toward motion sickness. So I had to put the book down and look around, before I was in too much danger of having a second look at breakfast.

I tried a few more times, but eventually had to give it up. Study and buses just don't seem to mix, for some reason. Fine, I told myself. I'll study a bit more once I'm at school.

<><>​

The bus pulled in to Clarendon and I got off, along with all the other students. Along with everyone else, I went inside, then I peeled off, heading for the library. It was nice and quiet, I reasoned. Perfect place to study.

"Robbie!"

I froze; it was Kate's voice. Slowly, I turned; she caught up with me, smiling broadly. "I am so glad I caught you," she enthused.

"Wow, hi, Kate," I replied. "I, uh, thought you usually hang out with your friends before class."

She tossed her hair. I admired the move; she must have practised it in the mirror or something. It actually looked really good on her.

"Oh, they're fun to be with, but not as much fun as you, Robbie," she purred.

I gulped. "I, uh, was just, uh, going ..."

That was as far as I got before she hooked her arm through mine, and my speech centres just plain failed. "Well, lead on," she told me. "Come on, let's go."

So we went to the library. I sat with the World Affairs textbook, and Kate sat next to me. I really did try to study, but having her very distracting presence right beside me, occasionally leaning on my shoulder to point out an interesting paragraph, meant that my brain dissolved into tapioca, and oozed down to pool in the back of my skull. The book could have been the secrets of the universe encoded into Urdu, for all that I could grasp of it.

By the time the bell went, we had covered a page and a half, and I couldn't recall a single damn thing about it.

"Whoops, gotta go," Kate told me, leaping to her feet. She kissed me on the cheek, her warm, perfumed presence utterly overpowering my higher mental functions. "See you at lunch!"

"Yeah, right, see you then," I agreed, stumbling to my feet and closing the textbook.

I am so dead.

<><>​

First period – History – dragged by. I managed to get a little more study done, with the World Affairs textbook under the desk, but not much. Second period was Biology, and I had trouble concentrating, especially with Kate sneaking me smiles every now and again. In the third period was World Affairs.

I dragged my feet into that class and plumped myself down at the desk. Mr Webster went around the classroom, dropping test papers face down on to desks. I had a pen out and ready by the time he told us to turn the papers over.

I did my best, but in that particular situation, my best was in no way good enough. Twice, I had to stop myself before doodling a new gadget concept on the edge of the paper. I filled out the answers I was fairly sure of, went back to hit the ones I was kinda sure of, and was staring blankly at the rest when Mr Webster told us to put our pens down.

The bell rang for lunch, and I grabbed my bag and headed to the cafeteria, along with everyone else. After lining up and grabbing lunch, I ended up at the same table with Lars and Kludge and a few others. Kludge caught me looking around.

"What's the matter, Rob?" he asked. "She stand you up?"

I frowned. "Yeah, actually," I admitted. "She said she'd meet me at lunch."

"Wow, that's cold," Lars observed. "That's not like Kate."

"No, it's not," I agreed. But twisting my neck around didn't cause her to pop into view, so I reluctantly started on my lunch.

"So, who's got the latest Earth Aleph shows?" Kludge asked, in a rare display of tact.

"I got some," offered Lars. "That cop show, got the same main actor from Firefly, what's his name -"

I was about to offer the name, when Kate slipped into the seat beside me and kissed me on the cheek. The colour was high in her own cheeks, and her eyes were sparkling. "Hi, boyfriend," she murmured. "I hope you didn't think I was standing you up."

"I – no, of course not," I blurted.

At the other end of the table, Lars coughed loudly. To my trained ear, it sounded like "Bullshit!"

It seemed to me that Kate might have also caught this, so I hastily added, "Uh, I was wondering where you were, though."

"Oh, I had to stay back in class for a few minutes," she explained airily. "Nothing serious." She opened her lunch, and I knew immediately that she hadn't bought it in the cafeteria. I also thought I knew where she'd been; despite my admonition to her, she was ducking home and making lunch there, then bringing it back to school.

"I see," I commented. "Bring that from home, did you?"

She glanced at me, then at her lunch; a guilty look flashed across her face, making her look cuter than ever. "I, uh, yes, I did," she admitted.

"Looks nice," I commented dryly; she flushed darkly. I grinned; usually, she had me at a disadvantage. To have it the other way around was fun.

"Castle!" exclaimed Lars; I jumped.

"What?" I asked him.

"Name of the show," he explained. "Castle. The one we were talking about."

"Oh," I responded weakly. "Yeah. Castle. That's the one."

I turned back to Kate, but she had regained her composure, and her eyes dared me to bring up the subject again. I didn't quite have the nerve, so I started explaining about the show that had been mentioned. She seemed rather intrigued; I made a mental note to get a copy from Lars.

<><>​

After we finished our lunches, she grabbed me by the arm and got up from the table. I hastily said my goodbyes to the others, then allowed her to guide me out of the cafeteria.

"Uh, sorry about giving you a hard time about your lunch," I began, once we were alone, "but I really think you should -"

I stopped, because she was pressing one cool finger against my lips.

"That's all right," she murmured. "I forgive you."

"I – uh – okay," I agreed. "That's cool. What's the problem? Is there another warning light?"

"Oh, no," she told me happily. "It's worked perfectly since you fixed it."

"Great!" I replied. Darn, I thought.

"But there's one other thing," she went on. "How much weight can it transport at once?"

I blinked. "Oh, uh, with yours, I basically made it so it would carry you, plus half your weight. A fixed capacity makes for a much more streamlined build, because it negates the need for bulky mass adaptors to the Q-coils, and -"

"Okay, okay, I got it," she giggled. "Tech stuff. One and a half times my weight."

"Yeah," I agreed with a nod. "You, plus your clothes, your books, and stuff like that. With a bit of a margin on the side, just in case."

"Well, that explains that," she mused. "I tried using it to carry me plus a lot of stuff, and it left stuff behind. Now I know why."

"Uh, what did you try to carry?" I asked with a frown. "And what was the effect?" I hadn't purposely overloaded the Q-coils on D-1 yet; I wanted to set up proper test equipment first.

"Oh, um, a big bag of books," she replied. "And it just left the books behind."

"No books cut in half?" I asked.

She shook her head. "No, just some there, and some not. They were lying on the floor when I came back downstairs."

"Right, right. Good." I fixed her with a stern eye. "Don't do that again. You might have hurt yourself."

Her eyes were really huge and soft; I found myself more or less falling into them. "Okay, Robbie," she breathed. "I'll be good."

I felt the fleeting pressure of her lips against mine, and then the bell was ringing for next class. Dazed, I blinked, and she was dashing off down the corridor. She stopped halfway, turned, waved, and was gone.

Wow, I told myself. Just wow. I wonder what I did to deserve that.

<><>​

I didn't see Kate again that day; I even hung around at the bus stop for a while, but she didn't show. No wonder; she's probably used the KD-1 to simply teleport home, I decided. I had wanted to talk to her about that, but she had very neatly steered me off.

It was very hard to be angry at Kate, I decided. No matter the strength of my conviction, all she had to do was look soulfully at me, and all was lost.

Of course, I decided, there were worse things than to have Kate Hernandez as my girlfriend.

<><>​

In the end, having missed two buses, I decided to do what she had done, and ducked into a quiet corner. Pulling D-2 out of my bag, I hit the recall button; D-1 appeared in my hands. Hitting Recall then 1 popped me right into my room.

Picking up the bag that held my costume and shoving D-1 and D-2 back into it, I strolled downstairs. Dad looked up as I entered the living room.

"Oh, you're home," he observed. "I didn't hear you come in."

"Yeah, well, I got my ways," I grinned. "Listen, can you give me a lift in to the PRT building? I've decided to go in today and do my application."

He frowned. "Are you using that device just to go to and from school? That seems to be a very frivolous use. What if you were seen?"

"No, just from," I explained. "Missed my bus."

"Hm," he murmured. "Well, it's done, I guess. So sure, I can give my son the superhero a lift in to the PRT."

"Thanks, Dad," I told him. "I really mean it."

He got out of the chair, and ruffled my hair on the way to get the car keys. "It's no problem. I'm just delighted that you want to use your powers for good."

I grinned. "I'd never hear the end of it from you and Mom if I didn't."

<><>​

The PRT, I decided, must really want people to sign up for the Wards. After Dad had made discreet enquiries at the desk, we had been escorted, equally discreetly, into the elevator and taken up several storeys. There, Dad and I had spoken to a PRT official, who had ascertained our identities, as well as the costumed identity that I intended to take up. We had been shown to an interview room, where I had been handed a stack of forms to fill out.

Filling out these forms was not particularly arduous; where I faltered, Dad was able to take over. It was simply time-consuming.

Which was possibly the idea. Because we were about three-quarters of the way through the forms when the door to the interview room opened. The figure that filled the doorway was familiar enough.

"Oh, hi, Armsmaster," I greeted him. "Decided to take the plunge."

"Robert Curry, also known as Kid Quantum," he replied grimly. "You build teleportation technology."

"Uh, yes, I do," I answered, a little off-balance. "You know that already."

He nodded curtly. "Do you know where I've just come from?"

I blinked, and looked at Dad. He shrugged. I looked back at Armsmaster. "Uh, no idea?"

"Investigating the latest in a string of robberies," he told me heavily. "Robberies that could only have been committed by a teleporting thief."


End of Part Ten

Part Eleven

 

[Slayer Anderson]

Why do all the good guys go for bad girls?

Oh, Kate, you really should have fucking known better.

Robert, you should have too, but better men than you have fallen for the Honey Pot.

 

[Ack]

Why do all the good guys go for bad girls?

Oh, Kate, you really should have fucking known better.

Robert, you should have too, but better men than you have fallen for the Honey Pot.

Click to shrink...

I have ideas for an omake for this last chapter where she gives him a hell of a lot more than a kiss in the corridor.

 

[Beyogi]

Why do all the good guys go for bad girls?

Oh, Kate, you really should have fucking known better.

Robert, you should have too, but better men than you have fallen for the Honey Pot.

Click to shrink...

Yeah... that's so going to get her in horrible trouble. And probably our young hero too.

Though Armsmaster should figure out what is going on pretty quickly, with his mask of truth...

 

[Sheaman3773]

"Robberies that could only have been committed by a teleporting thief."

Click to shrink...

Just going to pick a nit here--with how many and how varied powers in Worm are, this kind of statement is ludicrous on the face of it. Without knowing the evidence involved, it's hard to be certain, but unless he's actually detecting the effects on the time-space continuum, there are so many other powers out there that would look like teleportation from the aftermath. Phase-shifting was the first thing to pop to mind, for instance, and we have one in town with Sophia. If we see them disappear on camera or something, then it could also be invisibility with phase shifting? Who could do that? Why, Leet.

Man, I wonder how many new trigger crimes are blamed on Leet, and vice versa, since you literally have no idea what he could do from day to day.

I get Armsmaster made the easy leap--and it's even mostly correct this time--but he really should know better by now. Tsk tsk, Armsy, tsk tsk.

You describe Armsmaster using the word "grimly" twice in two descriptions.

Also, I had thought that this was going to be easily cleared up...but Rob's going to be an idiot about this, isn't he?

X-posting on SB.

 

[Chojomeka]

Ah teenage hormones....the cause of many problems....and the enjoyment of much fun.
Hmm just where in Worm's timeline was this again? I know it's after the Locker Incident but I forget how far after.

 

[Beyogi]

Just going to pick a nit here--with how many and how varied powers in Worm are, this kind of statement is ludicrous on the face of it. Without knowing the evidence involved, it's hard to be certain, but unless he's actually detecting the effects on the time-space continuum, there are so many other powers out there that would look like teleportation from the aftermath. Phase-shifting was the first thing to pop to mind, for instance, and we have one in town with Sophia. If we see them disappear on camera or something, then it could also be invisibility with phase shifting? Who could do that? Why, Leet.

Man, I wonder how many new trigger crimes are blamed on Leet, and vice versa, since you literally have no idea what he could do from day to day.

I get Armsmaster made the easy leap--and it's even mostly correct this time--but he really should know better by now. Tsk tsk, Armsy, tsk tsk.

You describe Armsmaster using the word "grimly" twice in two descriptions.

Also, I had thought that this was going to be easily cleared up...but Rob's going to be an idiot about this, isn't he?

X-posting on SB.

Click to shrink...

That is if Ack isn't pulling a bluff on us. Maybe it's another new cape with a teleporting ability and he'll accuse his innocent girlfriend, which will add drama.

 

[Prince Charon]

Just going to pick a nit here--with how many and how varied powers in Worm are, this kind of statement is ludicrous on the face of it. Without knowing the evidence involved, it's hard to be certain, but unless he's actually detecting the effects on the time-space continuum, there are so many other powers out there that would look like teleportation from the aftermath. Phase-shifting was the first thing to pop to mind, for instance, and we have one in town with Sophia. If we see them disappear on camera or something, then it could also be invisibility with phase shifting? Who could do that? Why, Leet.

Man, I wonder how many new trigger crimes are blamed on Leet, and vice versa, since you literally have no idea what he could do from day to day.

I get Armsmaster made the easy leap--and it's even mostly correct this time--but he really should know better by now. Tsk tsk, Armsy, tsk tsk.

Click to shrink...

I'm thinking Armsmaster is well aware of that, and is trying to trip the kid up.

 

[Ack]

Ah teenage hormones....the cause of many problems....and the enjoyment of much fun.
Hmm just where in Worm's timeline was this again? I know it's after the Locker Incident but I forget how far after.

Click to shrink...

Not long.

It's before the official start of canon.

 

[GladiusLucix]

Why are we assuming the worst from Armsy? He might just want to collaborate on a teleportation jammer.

 

[esotericist]

Independent tinkers frequently end up as suppliers for others, so it makes him a natural suspect not necessarily as the one who did it, but as the one who made it possible.

For all Armsmaster knows, KQ was held blackmailed (or worse) at some point for his tech, and is now trying to get help to escape the situation he's in.

 

[Ack]

Junior Hero

Part Eleven


The Curry boy blinked. "What? A teleporting thief?"

Armsmaster nodded sternly. "There are other teleporters in the city, and we're checking them out, but you're the one we have right here, right now, so I'm asking you. Are you in any way connected to this?"

"I … no, I didn't steal anything," Curry stated flatly. Armsmaster frowned as he checked the readout in his helmet; as it stood, the voice stress analysis program had a thirty percent margin of error; however, that statement read as 77% chance of being true. Which, given the margin of error, put it between 47% and 107% chance of truth.

He decided to accept it at face value; the boy had saved several lives, at the risk of his own, and had made a good impression on the older hero. But perhaps he had asked the wrong question.

"Have you sold any of your teleport devices to someone else?"

Something showed on Curry's face, but it was gone before Armsmaster could figure out what it was. When Curry spoke, his voice was level and firm. "I haven't sold any of my equipment to anyone. At all. Ever. And I haven't chucked out any gear that might have been salvaged, either. Nothing's been stolen. I have everything I have ever built accounted for."

Armsmaster frowned again. The boy wasn't lying; the number showing was significantly higher than 50% at all times. But it had fluctuated rapidly as he spoke; the content of his words was truthful, but something about the pacing was off. Perhaps he was choosing his words carefully, so as not to appear to be lying?

Or perhaps he was just speaking like that because of stress; after all, Armsmaster had more or less walked on in and accused him of using his gifts to steal. He would have to address the pacing and stress factors in the next iteration of the code. In the meantime …

<><>​

"So you don't know anything about these thefts?"

I chose my words carefully. "Well, now that you've told me about them, I know that they've happened," I stated, perfectly truthfully. "And no, I didn't know that they had been happening until you told me."

Dad cleared his throat. "Uh, sir, my son came in to join the Wards. Are you seriously accusing him of committing a crime, just because he's potentially capable of performing it?"

I turned to him. "It's okay, Dad. Seriously, it's fine. I didn't do it, and as soon as he checks times and dates, I'll be able to prove it."

"I sincerely hope so," Armsmaster noted. "The trouble with clearing a teleporter of a crime, of course, is that travel time is not an issue. If your father or I were accused of committing a crime that went down thirty seconds after we were observed being across town, this would be quickly dismissed. But for a teleporter, you have to be able to prove you were under continuous observation for at least part of the time that the crime occurred. Do you understand?"

"Oh, I understand," I told him. "And I also understand that I'm in an even deeper hole here, because as a Tinker, a theoretical thief could commit one crime, and then hand his unit off to someone else while he struts around in plain view, while his henchman commits an identical crime."

"Precisely," agreed Armsmaster. "But you have already declined any knowledge of the crimes prior to being informed of them."

"I have," I agreed. Reaching into my pack, I pulled out D-1 and placed it on the table. "However they're committing the robberies, they're not using this to do it. And I can prove that; the unit logs every jump I make. I haven't made that many jumps so far; the memory shouldn't be full up yet."

I pushed it toward Armsmaster, but he declined it with a shake of his head. "Unfortunately, we can't accept that as evidence," he informed me. "It's not a sealed unit, and as the creator of it, you would be best suited to altering logged data. Theoretically, any information on it could have been defined by you days ago."

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. "Crap," I muttered. "Okay, who else could have done it?"

"We've already ruled out Oni Lee," the armoured hero told us. "Several factors don't fit his powers and MO. For one, no-one's dead."

"Who else?" I asked.

"L33t's a Tinker, and he theoretically could have created something with the same capabilities as your device," Armsmaster told us, "but there are several factors that make that unlikely. No video game theme, it didn't appear on their site, and the robberies actually went off without a hitch."

There was silence as we thought about that for a moment.

"Could it be someone who could walk through walls?" Dad hazarded. "Like Shadow Stalker, but evil? You know, pretending to teleport?"

"We do have footage of the robber, from a camera just before it's spray-painted," Armsmaster noted. "The thief appears on camera between one frame and the next. One person, which also helps rule out L33t. No identifying markings; bulky dark clothing, a dark hoodie, dark glasses, gloves, a dark scarf over the face. No hair, not even skin colour to go by."

"Can I at least see?" I asked.

Armsmaster shook his head. "I'm sorry. While you're even a tentative suspect, giving you access to evidence could cause problems later on."

"I have a question that's a bit off the wall here," I stated. "This person. If they're committing crimes with this other theoretical teleport device, and they actually put on a costume and take on a cape name, if someone recognised them as who they really were, would reporting that fact be a breakage of the unwritten rules?"

Armsmaster paused. "That's an interesting question. If we could catch this person before they had the bright idea of putting a cape name out there, it would simplify things dramatically. But why would you ask that?"

Oh shit. "I wanted to know?"

Armsmaster's lips thinned. "I think you know who the teleport thief is. I think you made that person's teleport device."

"I told you," I backtracked desperately, "I never sold any of my gear. And nor was anything stolen."

"Which does not cover if you gave a unit away," Armsmaster pressed implacably. "Did you? Did you give a unit to someone else, whom you have just realised is performing thefts with said unit?"

Fuck. I didn't want to lie outright to him; when the truth inevitably came out, I wanted to be able to say that I had never told a lie. But now, he was putting me on the spot, cutting through my evasions. I took a deep breath, tried to calm my racing heartbeat. "No."

His voice was low and even. "I think that's a lie."

Double fuck. "Can you prove it?" Audacity was not my best friend here, but it might just be my only refuge. At least until I can talk to Kate and convince her to give me KD-1 back again. Without it, she would be just another teenage girl. And she'll never want to see me again.

I didn't want to believe that.

"I may not be able to prove it, Mr Curry," Armsmaster stated grimly, "but my word will certainly be enough to shoot down any chance of you joining the Wards."

"Wait, what?" I protested. "Just because you think that I might know something about it? How is that fair?"

"This is law and order, not fairness." Armsmaster pointed at me. "If you supplied this person with a teleport device, and he or she is committing crimes with it, and you know of this and fail to notify the authorities, that is called aiding and abetting. More to the point, if we capture this person, and he or she has a teleport device that can be identified as your work, you will have many questions to answer."

I ran my hands through my hair. "Shit. Okay. Fine. Can we talk hypotheticals?"

His tone had not moderated. "Explain."

"Hypotheticals!" I realised that I had raised my voice. "Legal situations that may or may not be true, but which I'd like to ask your hypothetical response to them."

His arms were now folded across his armoured chest. This was not a good sign; I'd read somewhere that crossed arms were a rejection gesture. "I'm listening."

Right, voice says one thing, body says another. Well, I'm backed into a corner right now, so I don't have many good options. Talking to Armsmaster is not a great option, but it's better than a lot of the other ones.

"Okay, let's posit that I kind of told someone about me being a Tinker. And that person asked if they could have a device like mine. And I kind of made one, and gave it to them. Hypothetically speaking, that is."

"The person's name." Armsmaster's voice was flat.

"Hey, this is hypothetical," I protested. "I'm not saying it happened. Just that it's possible that it might have. Okay?"

I learned that it was indeed possible to be glared at via an opaque visor. Armsmaster's voice might have been the sound of crushing gravel. "Continue."

"So this hypothetical person never told me what they were doing with it. But now I know, I think that hypothetically, if I can get the device back off the person, they're no threat, because they're using it to do all the crime, and without it, they're just a normal person, right? No chance of reoffending."

Armsmaster's voice was even more forbidding than before. "Crimes were committed. That warrants arrest and prosecution."

I played my last card. "Look, you're a Tinker, just like me, right? We both want to be heroes, but that's only really possible with the stuff we can build. I mean, seriously, there's no way I'd be going out there if I didn't have my devices to help me out. Would you go being a superhero if you didn't have your Tinker gear?"

There was a long silence. "I'd like to think that I'd still do my bit," he replied, but his tone wasn't as definitive as before.

"Well, see? It's all about enabling. We get Tinker powers, we decide to do good. Other Tinkers decide to not do good. This person gets a bit of Tinker tech, the temptation gets too much, they decide to make the most of it. But it's all about being enabled. Take away the tech, not a thief any more."

"All the goods would have to be returned," he insisted. "I'm presuming your friend is a minor?"

"Hypothetically, yes, my friend is a minor," I agreed.

"And you call them a friend, even after they get you in trouble like this?" His tone was doubtful.

I rolled my eyes. "If I lost a friend for every stupid boneheaded stunt that I pulled, I'd be the loneliest guy in town," I assured Armsmaster. "Plus, we're teenagers. Bad judgement is kind of what we do. I mean, shit, if I got the powers of Scion tomorrow, I'm pretty sure that I'd be tempted to do all sorts of crazy shit. Some of which might just be illegal. So yeah, I still consider this person to be a friend."

"So hypothetically speaking, what is your friend's name?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No. I give you the name, you swoop in, end of story. You get them, or you don't. They either go to juvey, or they go on the run, and the device malfunctions after a while, and maybe they stop using it, or maybe they don't, and maybe it goes badly wrong and kills them. No, we're not doing it like that."

He shook his head. "You do not get to dictate terms."

"I really think I do," I retorted. "I know who this person is, and where they live. I can talk to them, tell them the PRT's on their trail, get the device back, convince them to return all the stolen goods. Over and done, no skin off anyone's nose." I stared at Armsmaster's visor. "If I pitch it right, they'll beg me to take it back."

He didn't sound convinced. "And if you can't talk them into giving the device back? If the person uses the device to evade us, because you warned them?"

I didn't want to think about that. "I've got … ideas. I'm going to need some pretty esoteric parts, but maybe I can build a teleport tracer, and possibly a teleport jammer."

"What, for any teleporter?" he asked, startled.

I shook my head. "Just for my own brand of it. Well, I'm pretty sure, anyway."

"Hmm." He seemed to be looking at me. "You're sure of this."

I held up my hands. "Look, I just want to make this right, and make sure my friend doesn't get in too much trouble for doing a really stupid thing."

He rubbed his chin. "Very well. You've got three days, or until the next verified robbery from this thief."

I heaved a huge sigh of relief. "Thank you. I won't let you down."

"And we'll be suspending your application to the Wards until the thief has been shut down, and the device is in custody."

"Wait, hold on, suspending?" I yelped. "I'm helping you guys here!"

"And refusing to pass on the name of a very strong suspect to a series of robberies," he snapped. "Be glad I'm giving you the chance to clean up your own mess."

I grimaced. He had a point. Then I paused again. "And what do you mean, the device is in custody? I made it. It's my device."

"And you gave it to a thief," he pointed out. "And it was used in the commission of a crime. It becomes evidence."

Dad put his hand on my shoulder. "Rob, I think you should stop arguing," he advised me. "You've got a pretty good deal at the moment. After all, you can build another device to replace that one, right?"

"Yeah," I admitted grudgingly. "But I don't like it that they can take it away from me for something someone else did with it."

He shrugged. "That's the law, I guess."

I turned to Armsmaster. "Okay, fine. You've got a deal. I get the thing back, and tell you where to find the stolen goods. I hand in the device, and the thief won't be a problem any more."

"And if the thief chooses to not hand it back, you apprise us of his or her identity," Armsmaster pressed.

I nodded reluctantly.

Let's hope it doesn't come to that.


End of Part Eleven

Part Twelve

 

[Navrin]

Fairly decent negotiation, all things considered. Hope Team Law-Enforcement doesn't decide to spy on him in order to track down the thief; it's an overused plot that is extremely counterproductive in this situation as they'd MUCH rather have an allied tinker than one petty thief behind bars and a villain tinker with a grudge against them and such a plan encourages very strong resentment.

Thanks for the chapter, Ack. Was enjoyed.

 

[Chojomeka]

Dammit Rob you're thinking more with your libido right now aren't you?

 

[Beyogi]

Fairly decent negotiation, all things considered. Hope Team Law-Enforcement doesn't decide to spy on him in order to track down the thief; it's an overused plot that is extremely counterproductive in this situation as they'd MUCH rather have an allied tinker than one petty thief behind bars and a villain tinker with a grudge against them and such a plan encourages very strong resentment.

Click to shrink...

But then we're dealing with Armsmaster...

 

[Navrin]

But then we're dealing with Armsmaster...

Click to shrink...

He makes REALLY stupid decisions when emotionally comprimised and has really, REALLY bad capabilities for actually dealing with his own emotions, sure. Almost certainly at least partially because of shard manipulation. However, when he doesn't have much personally invested into it I doubt he's going to make obviously self-destructive moves.

Now, if he thought that this new tinker might threaten his own reputation I could definitely see him (possibly only subconsciously) trying to drive him away into villainy. That seems unlikely, though; their fields of expertise are too different for that.

Best use of his technology (pre-mass production by Dragon) during Endbringer attacks that I can think of: Bring groups to the fights, and then teleport civilians out. Empty out all of the shelters possible as quickly as possible, focusing on the ones that are predicted to be in the most danger. This is especially useful against Ziz.

 

[PineTreeq]

What if it ISN't her doing the crimes, and someone else is instead. Then he'd have to give her name up when another crime came up, even when she didn't do it.

 

[Ack]

What if it ISN't her doing the crimes, and someone else is instead. Then he'd have to give her name up when another crime came up, even when she didn't do it.

Click to shrink...

And if she didn't do it, it would be relatively easy to prove.

Armsmaster: "Did you commit these crimes?"
Kate: "Um, no?"
Readout: 87% chance of truth.
Armsmaster: "Oh. Well, carry on then."

 

[PineTreeq]

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