Chapter 2602: 27
Chapter Twenty-seven—Between the Hammer and the Anvil
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
Thomas Calvert, who was also known as the villain named Coil, sat in his cell carefully pondering the last few days. First, the attack on his base, which had apparently destroyed it entirely, then his own apprehension under the pretense of the Master/Stranger protocols, had set back his plans substantially, possibly even derailed them. He had no idea what was going on in the world outside his cell, but it couldn't be good.
Thomas was under no misapprehensions of just how dangerous whoever had so easily taken him down was. Their grasp of technology was second to none and they had completely outclassed his own security measures. Worse, he knew the identity of his attacker, or rather, the identity of the force behind it.
It had been the armored cape known as Iron Man. That much he could be confident of. The drones that he had briefly seen before they had killed him were unmistakable. He'd seen similar ones in the news after the failed attack upon HTech, which had been attributed to the rogue Tinker.
There were two things about the entire situation that Thomas did not understand. First, he did not understand how he had come to the attention of the Tinker. None of his activities were overt, nor was he a well-known or ostensibly dangerous Parahuman villain. So there was no reason for the other to attack him. Or to even really know that he existed as other than a name.
The second thing that Thomas did not understand was why the other felt so strongly about him that he was willing to execute him without even trying to allow him to surrender. The drone in the doorway of his office had fired one shot that had ended that timeline, so he was under no misapprehensions about what it had done to him. He had died there. Thomas shivered briefly, more out of a fear of his power failing than any real belief in his own mortality.
Yes, Thomas had died there, but was still alive in this timeline because the other dared not taking the risk of attacking him here. Still, he had figured out that the reason for the interruption in his meeting with Emily Piggot was because she had been called away to deal with a threat that had been pointed out by Iron Man. A junior secretary a few minutes after she'd left had confirmed the information.
It also didn't take a genius to figure out that the 'threat' she'd left for was him. Now he was in a cell and he had not the slightest doubt that most of his resources, if not all of them, were completely gone. Certainly, the base and its satellites, as well as his carefully trained cadre of mercenaries with their Tinkertech weapons were history. But Thomas suspected that whoever had attacked him and so easily penetrated his security had also likely destroyed his financial backing as well.
After all, not even the Number Man was completely infallible. So even if Thomas escaped, starting over was going to be far harder than even he likely imagined. Staring off into space, he thought furiously, but in the end, did not see another choice.
Looking over into the corner of the room, he spoke aloud, "Door."
The feeling of relief that soared through him as the familiar opening into another space appeared before him was unsettling. Had he really not been sure of his value to the ones who had originally set this up? Of course not, he told himself, even as he stepped into a white tiled hallway. There was no one so valuable as one Thomas Calvert.
Behind him, the door closed.
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
Head Director of the PRT Rebecca Costa-Brown looked over yet another memo, this one coming out of a group providing a liaison service with the US military and paused. Her only reaction to what she read was a slight widening of her eyes.
A moment later, she pressed a button on her desk and said, "Shirley, please reschedule my two o'clock appointment for today. Because of something that has come up, I will be unavailable until approximately three thirty pm." She paused a second. "Or even later."
Rebecca listened to the assenting voice on the line, then closed the com channel. Getting to her feet, she walked towards a blank wall and stopped. Then she said, "Door."
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
Contessa stared at the screen before her. Attempting to solve the puzzle, one which was hopelessly complicated and convoluted, was effortless and done within seconds. Then she began another. And another, before finally pushing away from the desk to pace the room assigned to her.
Her power had always been so limitless before, albeit with some specific exceptions. She could not read Scion or Eidolon, and the Endbringers were beyond her, but all other threats had been easily squashed by following a series of steps that allowed her to emerge victorious every single time.
No longer. Her power, like that of so many Thinkers and Precogs, was misfiring all too often these days. Worse, there did not appear to be any rhyme or reason for it. Even the models she'd so painstakingly built of Scion, which had allowed her to at least attempt to come to a solution for the alien being, were no longer functional for far too much of the time.
Bitterly, she remembered her words to Doctor Mother. "No. Certain areas of the future are just... gone. In those areas. There. Is. No. Path. To. Victory."
Those words had summed up her feelings of helplessness in dealing with this new reality. It was a reality where the most powerful Parahumans in the world were powerless, leaves and flotsam carried along by a flood of epic proportions.
Something had changed in the world around her and the organization called Cauldron. Something had changed the rules of play, and perhaps even the playing field itself. Something or someone. To be honest, Contessa wasn't even sure that the game they were playing was still the same.
Then again, the survival of the human race wasn't really a game. But it was the one thing that she, Doctor Mother, and so many others had sacrificed so many years of their lives, as well as so many of their moral principles, to accomplish. And now that survival appeared to be in even more jeopardy.
Or perhaps not. Because even without her power, Contessa considered herself to be an intelligent person. The one thing that she had immediately noticed was that despite how Thinkers and Precogs worldwide where suffering from misfirings and blockages of their powers, there was no change in Scion's current activities or habits. He continued to travel around the world, randomly showing up to rescue kittens from trees and put out forest fires in disparate locales.
All evidence suggested to her that he was completely unaware of whatever had changed their world. That he knew no more about what was happening than she did. Whether that was a good thing, or not, was something that she did not truly know. But it was interesting that the most powerful being in the world, one not even from their world, appeared to be completely oblivious to how the world around him was changing
It also sent the first faint stirrings of hope through her being.
Then Contessa's deep ponderings were interrupted by a voice from the doorway, one which she had been expecting, "Contessa, there's been a major development in the United States, one linked to their militaries."
Turning dark eyes towards the speaker, Alexandria, Contessa nodded. "Tell me."
"There was a recent demonstration to all of the branches of the armed services of an armored suit that is more than a match for ninety-five percent of all Parahumans. The suit's design originated from a company called HTech, which is considered to be a front for the armored rogue Tinker, Iron Man."
"Interesting."
The Brute and Thinker looked frustrated. "Is that all you have to say? Don't you understand the implications here? For the first time, normal humans will be able to strive against Parahumans with at least an equal chance of defeating them. Plus, he's building reproducible Tinkertech!"
"Yes, I'm aware of that."
"Then why aren't you worried?"
Contessa carefully considered her thoughts. Why wasn't she worried? After all, the strategy they had come up with involved the ascension of Parahumans over humanity, considering it an inevitability because of the type of conflict that would occur in the future and which would be required to defeat Scion.
Except there was a new player involved, one that appeared to lack the constraints that they labored under. One that somehow circumscribed Parahuman powers in way that no one had ever done since Scion himself. And who apparently did the same thing to the very source of their powers.
That someone was very dangerous. That went without saying. But at the same time, that person was likely also working towards the same goal as Cauldron was. They might even be more likely to achieve it through some as of yet unknown means. Regardless, it would serve no purpose to attempt to circumvent them.
After all, if they were successful, humanity would survive. If they failed, they were no worse off. A strange twisted smile graced Contessa's lips. After all, there were always more than one Path to Victory.
Contessa knew that the other Parahuman was still waiting for an answer. Unfortunately, she did not have one for her, knowing she'd never accept 'wait and see.' Instead, she asked Alexandria, "Are you aware that Thomas Calvert has requested asylum here and that Doctor Mother granted it?"
Alexandria's eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared just the slightest amount. To Contessa she might as well have shouted her intentions at the top of her lungs. As well as her understanding that she knew she was being stalled. Instead, in a controlled voice, Alexandria said, "I'm going over to see her right now to talk about that. I will talk to you later about this."
Contessa nodded, her thoughts already moving back to the conundrum in front of her. Was the source of everything that was happening this Iron Man, or was the rogue Tinker just another catspaw caught in the machinations of another? It was far too early to tell, but she leaned towards the latter. After all, the person who was pulling strings behind the scene wasn't likely to be that transparent when they could use another for their purposes.
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
Sherrel stared with laser-like intensity at the page in front of her as the words upon it seemed to blur together. Blinkering furiously, she tried to make sense of what was written there. Then she looked up as she heard a knock on her door. She croaked, "Come in."
The man who walked through the door to her room was the complete opposite of what you would expect to see from someone of his position and titles. Sherrel knew him as CEO of HTech and Taylor Hebert aka Iron Man's father. Yet his genial expression and quiet smile looked to be more in line with a grade school teacher, or perhaps a librarian. Only the shrewd look in his eyes gave any indication to an outside observer that this was a man who wielded power, including power over one former villain.
Sherrel rose to her feet. "What can I do for you, Mr Hebert?"
The man instantly corrected her. "Call me Danny, Sherrel. Or I'll be forced to call you Ms Bailey and look where that will get us. Sit, sit. I just stopped by to see how you're doing. Are you getting settled in all right?"
Sherrel quelled the urge to howl in laughter at one of her former captors asking how she was getting settled in. However, the genuine look of concern that Danny Hebert wore helped with that, as did the fact that all of these people held her fate in the palm of their hands. Setting back down into her chair, Sherrel quietly stated, "I'm okay."
Danny ran a hand through his thinning hair in a worried gesture. "Look, I know that the others have set you a pretty hard task here. Getting caught up with all of this must be pretty daunting. I just wanted you to know that if you need someone to talk to, my door is always open."
Sherrel felt stupid for asking, but she couldn't help the words that spilled out from her mouth, "You mean I'm not a prisoner anymore? I can leave this fucking room?"
Danny's eyes narrowed and a flash of what Sherrel could only interpret as anger crossed his face. She wondered for just a moment if he was upset at her language. His voice, however, was completely calm as he asked, "Has anyone made you feel like you're still a prisoner here, Sherrel?"
Sherrel's words spilled all over each other as she tried her best not to curse, "Uh, no, Mr... uh, Danny. I just didn't know if it would be okay to walk around..."
Danny's reply was emphatic, "Yes. Walk around. Come see me. Come see Taylor. I'd say come see Trish, but as much as I love the girl, I've come to realize she's an acquired taste. Come down to the factory floor and look the manufacturing over. Don't feel like you have to lock yourself away in here, studying every second of the day. Can you do that for me?"
"Thanks, Mr... uh, Danny. I..." Sherrel's voice trailed off. She wanted to laugh at the idea of the big bad villain almost being reduced to tears by a handful of kind words, but there it was.
Thankfully, Danny seemed to understand. He patted her on the shoulder a couple of times, then said, "Hey, now, none of that. Remember, Sherrel, you're now a part of a select group of people who are going to do whatever is necessary to save the world. You have so much to be proud of. I know for a fact that Taylor can't wait to work with you."
Taylor Hebert, quite possibly the greatest Tinker alive couldn't wait to work with her? It didn't seem possible. Sherrel met the Danny's eyes, the kindness there harder to take than if he'd glared at her. She forced out the words, "Thank you, Danny."
"Sure thing. Now, I hear you are getting close to taking your first test. Is that right?"
She nodded. "Yes. I'm going to take it the day after tomorrow. If I pass it, I only have six more to go."
"I'm sure you'll pass it. As a matter of fact, we'll have to do something for you when you do. I think I'll assign Trish to the matter of figuring out an appropriate celebration. After all, what's the point of being the CEO if you can't delegate some things to someone else?" Danny gave her a quick wink as he said it and it drew an involuntary smile from her.
With one last shoulder squeeze, Danny Hebert left. Sherrel stared at the door for a few minutes after it closed behind him, then returned her gaze to the book in her hands, a new determination welling up within her. She was going to ace that Goddamned test if it killed her. After all, people were counting on her.
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
Trish knocked on Taylor's laboratory door, already rehearing what she planned to say. However, all of it was forgotten as she stared at the odd sight before her. Blinking, she asked, "Is it just me, or are you in two places at once?"
In front of her, Taylor Hebert's legs were standing, cut off just below the waist, while to Trish's right, her torso seemed to float above the floor, seemingly unsupported by anything visible. Both halves of her body were surrounded by a slim ring that floated in the air and appeared to be the cut off line for the halves. Taylor gaily waved at her, then moved over to where her legs stood. A moment later, the two halves of her body were again one and she was carefully spooling up something long and thin, winding it over her hand, before tossing the resulting bundle onto her lab table.
"Hey there, Trish. You like?"
Feeling a bit dumbfounded, as well as annoyed that she couldn't really use her power to figure out what was going on with Taylor so close, Trish frowned. She snarked, "What's to like? Looks like a party trick."
There was a knowing expression on Taylor's face as if she knew exactly what Trish was thinking. She nodded up and down as if in complete agreement. "Yes, that's exactly what it is. A party trick."
Trish shook her head. "You are such a liar. I remember back when you were such an innocent little girl. Sweet, trusting, explanatory. Before..."
Taylor crooked an eyebrow towards her. "Before Tony? Yeah, maybe. He's a twisty bastard, that's for sure." They both shared a grin at that, ignoring the fact that Trish had only ever known the Tony version of Taylor. On the other hand, her power had told her that once upon a time, what she'd just said was probably true. "So, what's up?"
"Do you still want me to conduct the same demonstration to the Australian armed forces that I did for the US armed forces?"
Taylor nodded deliberately. "Definitely. I already have the suits loaded on a pallet and ready for shipment."
Giving her a doubtful look, Trish noted, "You're going to piss off a lot of American brass, as they call them."
"I know." Despite her words, Taylor just sat there looking contemplative.
Almost gritting her teeth at the effort it took not to try to use her power on Taylor, Trish burst out with, "You're doing it deliberately! Tell me why!"
She suspected that the smile Taylor turned her way was every bit as twisty as any that the man whose memories she possessed had ever given another person. "You're giving the demonstration to Australia, because they're going to jump at the idea of arming their military with Iron Legionnaire suits. They'll likely buy more per capita than the US will, if for no other reason than I'm supplying them."
"You can't be that be that egotistical."
Taylor gave Trish a patient look, and she immediately felt chagrin as something occurred to her. "You mean because it will appeal to them for more than just military reasons, don't you?"
"Exactly. Politically, it's a slam dunk. I'm the flavor of the day in Australia. Bringing them up to par or beyond any other government on Earth in one fell swoop militarily will make it impossible not to act. And by acting, they'll put tremendous pressure on the US to act as well."
"Do you really expect that much resistance here to adopting the Iron Legionnaire suits? I mean, I can see how special interests, especially those centered around other defense contractors, will put pressure on Congress, but how can anyone there truly justify voting against them?"
"Two words, Trish. Untested technology. Congress can tie me up in special committees for literally years if they want to. They'll use all kinds of excuses, but it will all boil down to the fact that we will be putting out of business companies in their home states, taking contracts from their constituents and costing them jobs. No one who runs for re-election can win if they vote for something like that."
Trish allowed her power free rein over the things that Taylor had just said and immediately spotted a problem with it. Eyes narrowed, she asked, "What else? That can only account for part of the opposition you expect. What is the other? Wait, I'm getting it."
Taylor, however, didn't wait. Her eyes, which had been a bit distant, suddenly became laser sharp as they met Trish's. A crooked smile took over her mouth as she said, "Not bad. Yeah, there's more. The Protectorate and the PRT are also going to oppose any change in the weapon's mix of the United States military. They will claim that doing so will cause escalation in tensions between normal humans and Parahumans. They will also try to make it a matter of national security."
Trish gave Taylor her own sharp look. "Because you're not selling exclusively to the PRT and maintaining their monopoly."
"Bingo. Well, partly, at least. Like it always is, it's about who has the power. The PRT has amassed a huge amount of power in a relatively short time because of the threat of Endbringers and Parahumans. It's power they are going to be reluctant, to say the least, to surrender. We're going to see every director of PRT forces nationwide putting pressing on their Congressional representatives to stifle any attempt to have us supply Iron Legionnaire armor to the US military. There'll be a myriad of reasons cited, but it'll boil down to them not wanting to give up control. After all, what purpose is there to the PRT if there are no Endbringers and relatively few villainous Parahumans?"
As jaded as Trish sometimes considered herself to be, she doubted she would ever be a match for the man whose memories inhabited her best friend. Nor would she want to be. That much cynicism was too much for anyone to bear in her opinion. Then she saw the knowing look in Taylor's eyes and couldn't help feeling guilty for her thoughts about the other. Taylor actually had the gall to laugh at her, before saying, "Don't worry about it. That's why we're supplying Australia. Their PRT is their military for all intents and purposes. So they don't have any of the built-in opposition groups that there are over here. Plus, when they roll out Iron Legionnaire armor and start taking down villains right and left, imprisoning them in the special prison we are helping them build, the pressure on our Congress is going to be unbelievable."
Trish finished, "Especially when we talk about how the Iron Legionnaire armor was originally developed for the United States armed services."
"Bingo. Teach you well, I will, young Padawan."
"Is that Star Trek?"
With a lofty wave, Taylor corrected her, "Star Wars. Master Yoda. Now there was a bad ass green midget."
Then with a mercurial swiftness that seemed part and parcel of Taylor Hebert these days, and likely something she'd inherited from one Tony Stark, the long-haired brunette asked, "How are your nanobots progressing? Feeling a bit quicker?"
Trish nodded appreciatively, glad she was smart enough to follow her friend's topic changes. "You could say that. I've tried dropping stuff and catching it. By my own estimation, my nerve conduction velocity is four and a half times as fast as it was before I ingested them. Plus, my visual acuity is ridiculous, as is my range. From low light, to bright sunlight, to no light, I can see. There are colors that I never even knew existed..."
Realizing that she was waxing a bit rhapsodic, Trish stopped, then added, "I'm ready to pilot a suit of armor myself."
Taylor rolled her eyes. "Like I don't know you've already taken a set of the Iron Legionnaire armor for a test drive."
Smirking, Lisa shrugged. "If an Army grunt can do it..."
"A brilliant Thinker can as well." Taylor finished. She got up from her stool and walked over to a work table against the far wall that was absolutely littered with what appeared to be hundreds of random pieces of partially assembled equipment.
Getting up and following her, Trish frowned at the mess on the table. Using her power there, she got a couple of flashes of insight, but mostly drew a blank as there was simply too little data to draw any conclusions, even with super intuition. "What a mess. What is all of this, Taylor?"
Taylor pointed at two different random messes on the table. "That and that, are the sets of armor for you and dad. The rest are projects that I'm in the middle of."
A sudden shiver ran down Trish's spine as she did a quick calculation, her eyes busy as they scanned the table. Carefully, she asked, "Taylor, just how many projects are you currently working on?"
A puzzled expression appeared on her friend's face, and Taylor spoke aloud, "JARVIS, just how many projects am I involved with right now?"
"Miss Hebert, you currently have twenty-two hundred and thirty-five different projects that in are various stages of completion as of this moment. Miss Trish, these are only a handful of the projects currently under development. Most are virtual only, or have prototypes stored elsewhere. These are the 'nuts and bolts' projects as Miss Hebert insists upon calling them."
Trish felt her mouth open and close like a fish's, then regained control of herself as she noticed the sudden gleeful look on the other girl's face. She accused, "You did that deliberately."
Taylor hedged, "Maybe." Then she grinned exuberantly. "Yeah, I definitely did. But you should have seen the look on your face."
"But, why? Are all of these for sale by the company? I thought we had reached a certain level of capacity for production for at least the next three months even with adding in the other manufacturing sites?"
"We have." Taylor waved at the mass of partially finished projects littering the space. "But most of these are not things I'm planning to sell. Like that one, for instance."
Trish's eyes followed a pointing finger and saw nothing to distinguish it from anything else on the table. Taylor continued, "That is the beginnings of an anti-matter containment field for when I switch the armor over from ARC reactor energy to an anti-matter-based energy system."
"Sounds dangerous."
"Not really. It's just necessary if I'm going to be able to build a real suit of armor. After anti-matter, comes gamma ray bombardment. When I have that, I'll be able to finally start to work on the systems for the armor that's going to save the world."
Trish just shook her head. "And that's based around this gamma ray bombardment?"
"No, but it will allow me enough power to build the technology that will access zero point energy or vacuum energy as it's often called. That's going to power my final armor. With that, there's not much that can stand against me."
"You're doing all of this to destroy the Endbringers?" Trish made her comment into a question because she was almost certain that wasn't true. But only almost.
There was a cagey look in Taylor's eyes as she met Trish's gaze. "I'm pretty sure I can take them out now, using some of the things I'm building right at the moment. Maybe even Garden Spot can do it. No, this isn't to use against the Endbringers. It's for whatever made them."
Trish felt that same cold chill running down her spine, except this time it was worse. She kept a tight rein on her power, not knowing if it could focus solely on the issue that Taylor brought up, or if it would digress to the other's role in it, forcing a short circuit. Instead, Trish chose her words with care, "I don't understand."
There was a distant look in Taylor's eyes as she stared off into space, her own mouth a thin line. "I've been using JARVIS' increased capacity to run simulations of what's happening here on Earth Bet. I've also been using Reed's math. I now understand just enough of it to know that the data I'm getting doesn't compute. There's a causative factor missing. Something big. Something really, really big."
Wanting to ask, but at the same time worried about her friend, Trish finally said, "I take it that you think you know what the causative factor is?"
Taylor violently shook her head. "No. I wish I did, but I don't. But I'm getting closer. JARVIS! How many iterations are you up to on the Beta Epsilon equations for Project Farsight?"
The soothing voice of the AI responded, "One hundred and twenty-three trillion, six hundred and fourteen billion, one hundred and seventy-one million, four hundred and thirty-one thousand, and sixty-eight. Give or take a couple."
"Ha ha. And the central theme of the equations?"
"Powers, their original source and continuous renewal."
"Conclusions?"
"No conclusions as of yet, Miss. However, within approximately another four hundred and sixteen trillion iterations, we should see some form of clarity in the resulting data. Based upon my understanding of the math as you remember it." This last was said in what sounded almost like a sarcastic tone.
Eyes wide, Trish looked over at Taylor, whose eyes had narrowed. Almost dangerously, she asked, "You doubt my understanding of that nerd Richard's math?"
"Of course not, Miss. I am sure you understand it like the back of your hand."
"Yeah yeah. Just don't let your girlfriend get in the way of this investigation."
JARVIS' tone was suddenly a tad frosty. "Dragon is not my girlfriend."
Trish was beginning to doubt the sanity of all involved as Taylor gave an airy wave. "Sure sure, if you say so. It just seems that you went to a lot of trouble to rescue her if she's just some random AI. On the other hand, if she were your girlfriend..."
There was a sudden silence and Trish realized that JARVIS had fled. She watched Taylor do a fist pump, then turn to her for a high five. After slapping the other girl's palm, she dryly asked, "Do I even want to know what that was about?"
"Which part, the threat to the world or me finally getting JARVIS back for all of the sarcastic comments and pranks?"
"Either."
Taylor shrugged. "Probably not. Look, I know a lot of this is out there, but I can promise you I'm far from crazy."
"I never said you were."
"Then we're agreed. By the way, was there a reason you came in here to begin with? Besides asking me about the demonstration for the Australian government."
Trish slapped herself on the forehead. "Dammit! Yes. I wanted to let you know that Sherrel actually passed that hellishly difficult test you set her for her first week's studies. Actually, she made a ninety-five on it. I thought we might consider taking her out to celebrate."
Taylor nodded thoughtfully. "Sure thing. Maybe check with Dad to see if he can come along as well. You have a place in mind?"
"Benito's. New Italian place that opened downtown. I already checked and they don't mind if we use the drones for security inside."
"Italian it is, then."
With that, Trish headed out, her brain afire with a hundred conflicting and worrying ideas. She needed to get somewhere, relax, do some thinking, and maybe take a QT afterwards. Because there was definitely something going on with Taylor Hebert.
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
Taylor watched her friend walk out the door, then waited another minute to make sure she was out of earshot because of the nanobots. Finally, she spoke, "JARVIS, number of iterations remaining for Project Adamantium to create a sustainable process for effective mass production?"
"Approximately one point eight quadrillion, Miss. I also wish to say that I do not appreciate you attempting to pair me up with Dragon."
Taylor muffled a sigh of disappointment. Aloud, she asked, "That's what you get for picking on me so much lately. Time to Project Adamantium finish date?"
"Approximately one point one six years, Miss. I would hardly describe a little gentle tweaking which you were instrumental in requesting as 'picking on you.'"
Taylor did sigh this time. Still, she suggested, "How about a truce, then? I'll drop the Dragon story line and you reduce your 'tweaking' by seventy-five percent."
"Fifty."
"Seventy-five or I'll tell dad you're sweet on Dragon and he needs to have 'the talk' with you. I imagine he'll have to get creative to adapt it to a cybernetic organism."
There was utter disgust in JARVIS' voice as he said, "One shudders at your Machiavellian nature, Miss. Agreed."
Unfortunately, despite the win against Jarvis, she didn't feel any better. Taylor sat there brooding, her chin cradled by her hands, staring off into space. The problem was, as always, processing power. The hardware, both his own and what he'd infiltrated over the course of Pandora, that JARVIS was using to process the complex calculations of Reed Richards' social mathematics and her own mathematical formulas aimed at solving the Adamantium problem was simply too slow. The carbon processing chips were glacial compared to say, a three dimensional crystalline holoprogrammable matrix processor. There again, Taylor simply did not have the base technology to build one.
She wanted to get up and scream her lungs out, or better yet, throw something. Or even better yet, get in her suit and blow something up. But she did none of these things. After all, destroying something with a high energy particle beam might make her feel better in the short run, but it wouldn't get her any closer to the technology and weapons she needed to defeat the threat the world was under. A threat which she'd come closer to identifying, but had no actual culprit that she could point to and say, "That's it!"
No, Taylor needed processing power so that she could solve the mathematics that would allow her to both identify the threat the world was under as well as help her develop and build the technology she needed to defeat it. With her current technological constraints, a quantum disrupter was simply out of the question, let alone a reality nullifier. Both of which she was likely to need before all was said and done.
Because while Taylor had not identified her enemy, she had drawn some conclusions. Her foe was multi-dimensional, as evidenced by the weapons it had created in the form of the Endbringers. Tattletale's insight into their physiology and likely origin had been invaluable. She'd learned enough to know that their forms did not make mathematical sense unless they occupied multiple dimensions. Otherwise, you were talking about the mass of a spiral galaxy within the space they occupied, a patent impossibility, even with the bullshit science that Taylor was aware of from Tinkers or the advanced races and beings from Tony's own reality.
Not even Galactus could do something like that. But what he could do, and likely would do, if he wanted to build something like an Endbringer, would be to use multiple dimensions to contain extra mass and energy and use that make his weapon that much tougher and more dangerous, able to ramp up as needed to confront any threat.
So what Taylor needed was a way to cut off dimensional access to anything or anyone from this reality. That it was also the key to defeating most Parahumans went without saying. While her forcefields blocked some Parahuman abilities, and the Psionic Dampeners she'd built cut off others, she somehow doubted that either would keep a dynakinetic like Behemoth from turning her to ash if she came within his death aura, armor or no.
However, forcefields backed up by dimensional shielding technology, or even better, using a trans-dimensional shunt to change the... frequency for lack of a better word of their small section of the universe so that it resonated at a slightly different wavelength, would definitely disrupt any powers that worked across dimensions, as well as preventing travel of matter and thought between realities.
None of the solutions were absolute or guaranteed. Plus getting there was turning out to be taking far too much time.
Staring around at the table that Trish had seen as untidy, Taylor shook her head. Each of those incomplete pieces of equipment represented a project which she needed to finish. Then she needed to finish the other twenty-two hundred and some odd projects that hadn't even made it out from the virtual world. Then she might finally be able to build a true anti-matter reactor compact enough to power her next gen armor.
Most people just didn't understand the sheer number of innovations that went into the development of any new technology. And while this technology wasn't new to her, it was to this world. Given five years and an unlimited budget, one she could likely generate herself, Taylor could easily build all of her end run items. But with what was happening, she didn't know if this world actually had five years.
Inside her head, Tony was screaming to build build build stuff, because he'd finally recognized that what was coming was so much more than Parahumans and Endbringers. They were facing something truly dangerous. Something alien and mysterious and whose intentions were suspect at best, and utterly malevolent at worst.
Shaking her head to clear it, Taylor said aloud, "JARVIS, open Project Megamind. How many scanning samples are we up to at this point?"
JARVIS' cool voice quietly answered, "Seventy-three, Miss."
Taylor chewed her bottom lip, muttering, "That's well below the threshold of a hundred and twenty-five that the experiment's original parameters called for. I wonder..."
"Miss, might I make a suggestion?"
"Sure, JARVIS, what's up?"
"If you wait until the next Endbringer attack, there will be more than enough Parahumans present to complete the data set as well as provide enough additional data points to guarantee success."
Taylor slowly nodded. She hated to wait that long, but she'd exhausted the Parahuman resources here in Brockton Bay and as far distant as Boston. She was reluctant to send a scanning unit any farther as there would be a higher likelihood of it being discovered. "All right, JARVIS, then that's what we'll do. Do you have the design for Nanobot 24697 ready to go into production?"
"Of course. And the genetic targeting information is ready to be uploaded to any current nanobot set. If what we discover about the Corona Pollentia should follow your theory, we will be ready to act."
"That's a relief. However, I suspect regardless of what we find out from this experiment, it's going to end up being more complicated than that."
"Complicated in what way, Miss?"
"Complicated in that just removing or damaging the Corona of select Parahumans is not going to be enough for all of them. For some, it might negate their abilities. For others, it likely won't. It's why we need that dimensional shielding tech or that TD-shunt."
JARVIS's tone was dry as he commented, "Yes, you'll need to get back to me in a decade or so when you've finished your transdimensional shunt, Miss. I would very much like to see it in action then."
At his comment, she muttered, "Seventy-five percent reduction, my ass."
Then Taylor just shook her head, having to admit JARVIS wasn't far off. Too much derivative tech went into it for her to just build one out of junkyard scrap tomorrow or the next day. Still, she refused to give up on it. Because who knew when she'd run across something in this crazy Tinkertech world that would give her insight into building an alternative version involving a completely different tech tree?
It had, after all, already happened with Project Garden Spot. Seeing what Sphere had wrought on the Earth's moon, as well as how he'd done it, had been part of the inspiration behind many of that project's ultimate aspirations. Which reminded Taylor to check on that with JARVIS as well.
"And Garden Spot? Time to Ascension within Brockton Bay?"
"Two weeks, two days, fourteen hours, seventeen minutes, and twenty-six seconds, Miss."
"Excellent. I thought I had noticed some changes near the edges of HTech's campus. How much sooner will we see the complete effects here than in the rest of Brockton Bay?"
"Just over a day, Miss. If I might make a suggestion, spending some time away from the lab will do you some good. And I believe it will benefit Miss Bailey as well. She has applied herself diligently to her studies and has made remarkable progress."
Taylor nodded. "We're having a celebratory dinner for her tonight for doing well on her first test."
There was a strong sense of satisfaction evident in the AI's voice as he said, "That should go a long way towards cementing her loyalty towards the rest of the team, as well as increasing her feelings of self worth."
Taylor gave the air in front of her a hard look. "JARVIS, are you managing us?" She paused at a sudden thought. "Managing me?"
"Of course not, Miss. I am merely trying to provide an environment that facilitates the greatest possible productivity while also producing the greatest happiness for all involved."
This time it was Taylor's voice that was dry. "You know, that's pretty much the definition of managing someone."
"I'll keep that in mind, Miss. Miss Trish has asked me to remind you to break off within the next few minutes so that you will have time to change for dinner. She mentioned wearing a little black dress."
"JARVIS, I don't think I even own a 'little black dress.'"
"You do now, Miss. There are two different versions waiting for you in your office for you to try on. I believe Miss Trish had them delivered from a boutique downtown."
"Fine. I'm going. Stay on top of those projects, please. And devote as many of your current and increasing computational cycles towards Projects Adamantium and Farsight as possible."
"I will without a doubt."
Taylor felt a momentary weariness, not of the flesh, which was virtually impossible with the sheer amount of nanobots currently inside of her, but of the mind, or if you were of a philosophical bent, of the spirit. There was just so much to be done. And such a finite amount of time to do it. Somewhere out there waiting was their unknown foe, lurking like a Sword of Damocles over their heads. She needed to find that being before it was too late and those selfsame heads were severed from their proverbial necks.
But for now, she needed to get ready for dinner, before she was late and Trish severed her head. Whistling faintly, Taylor headed at a rapid pace towards her official office.
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
Sherrel had watched in silence throughout dinner as the laws of nature were broken. She kept her mouth shut as the incompressibility of matter was compromised. But when laws on the nature of time and space were violated, she had to speak up.
Staring around the table, Sherrel exclaimed, "How the hell are all of you eating this much? Appetizers, entrees, and now fuckin' dessert? I mean, shit, I'm bigger than any of you except Danny, and I didn't eat even half of what little-miss-know-it-all over there ate."
Sherrel saw the looks the others at the table shared and didn't like it. She was aware that her speech could use a little cleaning up, but she said whatever she thought, dammit. Even in the Merchants, so long as Skids wasn't being a douchebag, they all said what they thought. She wasn't going to be changing that. Besides, Danny had said she was part of the team and the dinner was in her honor.
It was Trish who broke the resulting silence, "I take it that Sherrel here hasn't gotten the upgrades?" She sat back with an odd smile as she took another huge bite of the sinfully delicious chocolate mousse that Sherrel had barely tasted as to eat more would have guaranteed a trip to the restaurant's bathroom to regurgitate it right back up.
For a moment, there was a sinking feeling in Sherrel's stomach as she stared around the table and she wondered if her dinner was going to come right back up anyway. Then Taylor shrugged and said, "I had talking about it scheduled for tomorrow afternoon. But I guess we can talk about it now since you spilled the proverbial beans."
"Talk about what? What the fuck's going on? What fuckin' beans?" Sherrel made an effort to not get too carried away, but it was hard. She hated secrets.
Sherrel watched as Taylor leaned forward, her stare even more penetrating that usual. The girl, despite her youthful appearance, seriously intimidated her, and not just because of that kick ass suit. Taylor knew stuff, stuff other people didn't have a fucking clue about and Sherrel had no idea how she knew it. Being smarter than hell and an amazing Tinker, that was one thing. But she had a weird way of looking at Sherrel that made her wonder sometimes if...
Then Sherrel's thoughts stuttered to a complete stop as Taylor took a small device out of her briefcase and set it on the table, where it lit up with a bluish glow. Fascinated by yet another ridiculous piece of the other Tinker's technology, she waited as Taylor spoke, "Sherrel, there's a process whereby you ingest a cocktail of nanobots which act as a sort of fix it for your body. It improves a number of things including your health and nerve conduction speed, as well as a whole host of other stuff, too much to go into here."
Sherrel stared at the other girl in disbelief. "You pull that fucking thing out and all you can talk about is tiny robots? What the fuck is that thing? It's putting out a field, that much I can tell. Masking effect or something. I can almost see what it's supposed to do, but..."
Taylor laid a hand on the device. Succinctly, she said, "Anti-eavesdropping device. Puts out a field that prevents all forms of sonic, electronic, and psionic eavesdropping from occurring. Cuts off all forms of communications as well."
Sherrel stared at the small device in awe. "You just made this, didn't you? Fuck. Do you even have a specialization? The things I've seen around HTech are fucking crazy, but this? It's got so many specialties in it that I don't even know another Tinker who could understand it. Maybe Dragon? Fuck!"
Taylor reached a hand across the table and placed it on top of Sherrel's. "Sherrel. Don't worry about what's on the table. Instead, why don't you worry about what you're going to say when I offer you chance to become effectively immortal. Because I have to admit that would be the bigger of my concerns if I were you."
Sherrel felt her heart start to race as the room swam around her. She shivered, suddenly intensely grateful for the slim, long-fingered hand that held hers so tightly. She looked around at the faces of the others at the table, taking in their complete lack of surprise at what was to her, monumental news. Shakily, she asked, "Just who the fuck are you people? Who the fuck are you, Taylor?"
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
Taylor opened her mouth to answer, when JARVIS' voice rang out, "Miss, I would warn you of the dangers of telling someone who has not yet fully committed to our cause your single greatest secret."
As expected, Sherrel reacted explosively. "The fuck? Who hasn't committed? I've been studying fifteen hours a day for the past week and a half. So don't tell me I'm not committed. Don't... Hey, how the fuck are you talking? I thought that thing on the table blocked all forms of coms? Are you hiding under the table, Jeeves?"
Taylor shrugged. "Quantum entangled communications. Unblockable by anything known. Or at least by anything that I know about. Look, JARVIS, there's a time to keep secrets and a time to trust. Besides, weren't you Sherrel's biggest cheerleader? I mean, I liked the look of the short pleated skirt on you, but the pom poms may have been just a bit much."
"Very funny, Miss. Very well, I take back my objections. However, I must warn you, Sherrel Bailey, that what you are going to be hearing shortly needs to be kept in the utmost secrecy. Miss Hebert's secret getting out could very likely derail our attempts to save humanity, resulting in the deaths of billions."
Sherrel muttered, "I won't say nothing."
Taylor watched Trish open her mouth and gave her a quelling look to the other girl's amusement. Then she stood up. "Not here. Anti-eavesdropping device or no, I am not comfortable talking about some things anywhere but back at HTech. Let's go."
With that, they got up and left, Taylor paying the bill and adding a significant gratuity. The drones, which had been hovering overhead, headed out as well, one in advance, one staying just behind, while the others paralleled them.
The ride back was relatively quiet, the others engaged in small talk, while Taylor held Sherrel's hand as the other woman clutched at her like a life line. When they finally arrived back at HTech, she decided to use the small conference room for the meeting. She gave a quick request to JARVIS, then sat down at the head of the table, with a nervous Sherrel to her right, her dad sitting calmly to her left, and Trish's bright inquisitive eyes located directly across from her.
"Sherrel, I'd like to start by making something very clear. I am not a Tinker."
The blonde stared at her, confusion in her eyes. "But-"
Taylor shook her head. "Just listen for a minute. I am not a Tinker. I am also not a Parahuman. I don't even have a Corona Pollentia, the thing that makes having powers possible. Back in December, something happened to me. Something that wasn't a trigger event as it's usually described. Instead, I had the memories, as well as the intellect, of a man from another world thrust into my brain. A man who was perhaps the greatest inventor and engineer of his world. Who built things that were advanced in comparison to even the most advanced Tinkertech from our world. A man who died in blood, fire, and destruction trying to fight a threat that makes Endbringers look like ants."
Taylor couldn't help the crooked smile that slowly creased her lips. "Here's the deal, Sherrel. As near as Tony and I can figure out, it was one of the heavy hitters from his reality that did this. Probably to give me a chance save our world. Maybe to save our universe from whatever is doing this."
"Doing what? What the fuck are you talking about?"
"Giving out powers. Making Endbringers. Prepping our world."
Sherrel looked at her, both fright and more than a bit of hero worship in her eyes. "Prepping our world for what?"
Shrugging, Taylor said, "That's the real question. I'm not sure. Just that there's some intelligence behind all of this. Any questions?"
"A million fucking questions. Uh... so is there anything you can't build?"
There was a wavering in the blonde's voice that sounded very familiar to Taylor for some reason. Then she tapped into Tony's memories and she knew. Still, she was brutally honest in her reply to the other, knowing that half measures would not work here.
"Not much with enough time and money."
The woman in front of her seemed to shrink into herself. "Then why do you need me? Is this some kind of joke? Are you just playing with me? I mean, I'm just a fucking druggie. I don't-"
Taylor reached out to the other woman, who looked pretty lost right then. She forced aside any sense of attraction to the other woman and focused on helping her. Taking Sherrel's hand in hers, she said, "You are not just a druggie. Time and money, Sherrel. I don't have the time to do everything that needs to be done. Not even with a million times as many resources as I currently have. Not even with twenty JARVIS at my beck and call. So I need you. Probably more than you need me, if you factor out that the world is going to end if we fail here."
"Jesus Christ. I fucking can't believe this is happening. I feel like such a tool."
Danny spoke up, "It's a lot to take in, Sherrel. Don't worry if you take a while to acclimatize. I'm always here to talk. Or you can talk to Trish."
Trish quickly said, "Or you can talk to Taylor."
The amused look on her face wasn't impacted in the slightest by the glare Sherrel sent her way. Taylor wanted to rub her forehead, but she was trying to project an image of coolness and dignity, something which neither side of her personality prepared her for.
Which was one reason she was utterly unprepared when Sherrel burst out, "Okay, this is the fucking coolest thing I ever imagined happening! Holy fucking shit! This is the shit! So you're helping me to become a fucking non-Tinker Tinker just like you? So fucking..." Taylor watched, inwardly amused, as Sherrel finally saw the look on Danny's face at her nonstop barrage of curse words. Face turning red, she finished with, "That's some seriously sweet... uh... stuff."
Trish nodded. "Pretty much. Not to mention that when you take your dose of nanobots, you'll be able to fly a suit just like the ones that Taylor making for Danny and me."
That set Sherrel off again. "The fuck? Are you fucking serious? Are. You. Fucking. Serious?"
Numbly, Taylor nodded, only to the see the woman bounce out of her chair, which set other things to bouncing as Sherrel still apparently avoided wearing bras, and dance around the room. Then she whirled around and stared back at Taylor, her gaze fierce. "What color is my suit going to be? What color did they choose?"
Trish shrugged. "Violet and silver." Then she pointed a finger at Danny. "Blue and silver."
In a fit of inspiration, Taylor said, "Sherrel, for you, I was thinking hot rod red. How does that sound?"
The resulting squeal nearly blew out every person's ear drums in the room, putting all of their nanobots to the test.
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
JARVIS was also enjoying the moment as the exuberance that Sherrel Bailey brought to things played out. Then something impinged upon his consciousness. Running a quick diagnostic, then a query, he ran down the information from a worm that was planted within the public access servers of the PRT. Reading the information, he made the decision to notify his principal after he failed to turn on a nanobot package.
"Miss Hebert? I have a priority message for you."
The sounds in the room slowly quieted down as everyone's attention was focused upon the AI. JARVIS listened as Taylor Hebert asked, "What is it, JARVIS?"
"Miss, the prisoner known as Thomas Calvert aka Coil has escaped from the custody of the PRT approximately three days ago. The information on the case was entered into a computer fourteen seconds ago whereupon I discovered it and alerted you."
JARVIS noted the control in his principal's voice as she asked, "How did he escape, JARVIS?"
"Unknown, Miss. The cameras monitoring his cell cut off seconds before his disappearance, then on again just afterward. I have reviewed the footage and it is not doctored. The surveillance was blocked by an unknown means, whereupon Thomas Calvert egressed his cell and disappeared. His current location is nowhere within range of a camera within the continental United States. I'll have the rest of the world checked within the next few minutes. However, I suspect that he is 'in the wind' as they say."
Trish Rogers spoke, the faint strain in her voice audible to JARVIS' sensors, "All I know is that he was taken out of his cell by an unknown teleportation method. Parahumans were involved. Sorry, Taylor."
JARVIS noted with satisfaction the cold look in the eyes of his principal as she asked, "JARVIS, do we still have those nanobots on Coil?"
"Of course, Miss."
"Can you activate them?"
JARVIS made another attempt just to be sure, then said aloud, "No, Miss. His current location is nowhere within range of our signals. I would note that this indicates that he is nowhere upon or beneath the surface of Earth Bet."
His principal's reaction was both pithy and descriptive. "Well, shit!"
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
Brian took a deep breath as he slowly pushed open the door to the office in front of him. He'd been sent up here to the top floor from Personnel. He didn't really understand why, but he wasn't going to argue.
With Coil gone, and the Undersiders splintered, Brian needed to work. If he was ever to gain custody of his sister, Aisha, he needed stable employment. Going back to being a strong arm thug, or a mercenary, while paying well, would not allow him to help his sister. For that, he needed gainful and legal employment.
He stopped in front of a desk as the slim blonde there gave him a thorough once over. Brian was used to receiving second looks from people. He was, after all, tall and broad-shouldered, and handsome in a way that seemed to appeal to a certain segment of the population. Certainly the young woman in front of him seemed to think so from her half-flirtatious smile as she asked, "What is your name, please?"
"Brian Laborn, ma'am. Here to see Miss Rogers."
"I'm Carrie, Brian, Ms Roger's personal assistant. Sit right over there, and I'll send you in in just a few minutes. Okay?"
Brian nodded and sat down in the chair Carrie had pointed out. Within a few seconds, he was conscious of the veiled looks the girl was sending his way. Fortunately, he didn't have to endure them for long as within less than five minutes, the blonde called for him.
"Brian? Ms Rogers will see you now. Just go back through that door."
Brian nodded his thanks and walked up to the closed door. He didn't knock, but instead carefully opened it and walked through. A moment later, he found himself staring in surprise at the figure seated behind the massive oak desk.
Trish Rogers couldn't have been a day older than Brian's own eighteen years. Short, nearly black hair was layered in what he absently thought might be called a pixie cut, with small wings curling around the girl's temples. Weirdly, he thought that the curls almost resembled horns.
That resemblance was only heightened when Brian caught a glimpse of the expression on the girl's face. There was a great deal of what appeared to be amusement in her green eyes, but it was the grin that creased her lips that gave him pause. As much as Brian hated to think it, the only way he could describe that grin was predatory.
Then Trish Rogers spoke, "Why don't you have a seat, Brian."
He managed a quiet, "Thanks." He sat down, then waited. Brian didn't have to wait long.
Trish Rogers spoke almost immediately, "I suppose you're curious why I wanted to speak to you, Brian. Is that right?"
"Well, yes, ma'am. I don't know what I might have done to come to the attention of someone here in upper management."
Trish smiled and Brian could see that the other girl was surprising attractive when she wasn't looking like she was about to eat you alive. There was a brief flicker of surprise in the other girl's eyes before she said, "Until recently, I was actually in charge of interviewing all new hires. Vetting them, if you will. But eventually, it simply became too much. Luckily, by that time, we had enough people hired that I was able to train someone to take over my job. But I still keep my hand in and occasionally do second interviews of promising new hires."
Surprised, Brian blurted out, "I'm hired then? I wasn't..."
"You weren't sure? Well, you are. I did want to ask you a few questions to ascertain what your future with the company might be like. If you would, please be completely honest in your answers. I can assure you that anything you say here will be kept confidential."
Suddenly even more nervous, Brian nodded.
Trish grinned again, although this time it was far softer than her earlier one. "Okay, let's start with this: Why work for HTech? I'm aware of a lot of jobs opening up in Brockton Bay as the city seems to be growing. Why choose us out of all of the others?"
Brian cleared his throat, then said, "I'm looking for a long-term, stable position. While HTech is a new company, they seem to be financially solid. From the news, I know that the company's obtained a number of government contracts that won't be ending any time soon. Additionally, I wanted to try something other than security for my next position. Gaining experience in advanced manufacturing seemed to me to be the best choice for future growth in my career."
Trish smiled at him, her green eyes full of some emotion Brian couldn't interpret. "Good answer. Without spilling anything confidential, I can assure you that you are right about the government contracts. We're set financially for the foreseeable future, even without any new innovations. But there will be a lot more of those. Now, what are your personal goals? Those could be anything from buying a house, to saving for the future, to getting married."
Brian hesitated, then at the other's inquiring look, found himself blurting out details of what he was trying to do with Aisha. Her quiet murmurs of encouragement spurred him on, and before he knew it, he'd told her far more than he originally intended.
Afterward, Trish smiled again and commented, "I can safely say that is one of the most heartwarming stories I've heard. It is very admirable of you, Brian, to accept so much responsibility at such a young age. I just wish more people of our age would do as much."
There was a brief lull in the conversation and Brian felt nervousness mounting, especially when Trish Rogers wrote some notes on a pad in front of her. Then she looked up and smiled at him again, and his chest slowly relaxed. Then she said, "All right, Brian. I just want to congratulate you for coming aboard with HTech. I also want you to consider something. We have several supervisory positions available at various satellite factories that are located in different nearby towns around the state. One that I think might interest you is Day Supervisor at Plant B-3 located in Lancaster, about thirty miles away from Brockton Bay."
Brian couldn't believe what the other was saying. Then Trish added, "Of course the compensation package would be almost twice as much as you would make working the factory floor, even with overtime factored in. There's also more vacation time, as well as a company stock bonus plan based upon performance. If this is something you might be interested in, I suspect that Family Services might look favorably upon a young professional who plans to move his younger sister into a smaller, safer town away from Brockton Bay. What do you think?"
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
Trish held the phone to her ear as she spoke. "Yes, he went for it."
"No, he didn't even question why he was being offered the position."
"Taylor, he was completely genuine in his desire to find a good job so he could get custody of his sister. He'll bust his ass for us."
"Softy. Okay, I'll get Quinn on it. I'm sure someone in his firm can help make it happen."
"No, I'm okay. I mean, it sucked to use my power to trick him into confiding to me all his deepest desires. Of course the fact that those desires involved providing a home for his thirteen-year-old sister instead of any form of world domination makes me feel like a schmuck."
"No, he's going to start immediately. We can have Jim train him here, then move him to Lancaster in six to eight weeks. Now that we're taking that plant off of full automation, it can definitely used an ambitious, motivated manager."
"Yeah, you're right about that. Anyone who can successfully lead a gang can probably succeed in business. I'm not even sure that he'll need that much training aside from the technical side of things. His genuineness will play well with his people."
"Okay, that works. Yeah, I'll be out of pocket beginning tomorrow for the next three days while I'm in Australia. I'll see you later."
Trish hung up her phone and stared off into space. She couldn't help remembering Brian and just how attractive he was. That he had found her attractive as well was flattering, if you took away how he'd viewed the way she'd smiled at him initially.
That said, there was no way she could have a relationship with someone she could so easily read. It was the bane of her existence. Sometimes, she wished she liked girls so that she could make a play for Taylor. But Trish was firmly in the heterosexual camp, even if no guy could meet her standards. Then again, there weren't exactly a surfeit of girls who met her standards either.
On the other hand, Taylor, despite that lech Tony Stark's memories, seemed to slowly be reverting back to liking boys. With her grin slowly growing, Trish wondered how her best friend would react to meeting the handsome Mr Laborn. Tony might gag, but she rather suspected that Taylor would appreciate those muscles and broad shoulders.
Then her grin faded as Trish considered that without Taylor's intervention, it would have likely been her in Brian's position as leader of the Undersiders. Or, if not leader, as their liaison with Coil. Now Taylor had effectively saved two people from Coil's machinations. It was a sobering thought, the effect her best friend had upon the lives of those around her. More importantly, Taylor was going to have just as great of an effect upon the lives of every single person in the entire world.
It was at times like this, when considering them as individuals, that talking about saving the world really had a far deeper meaning than just saying the words. People like herself, Sherrel Bailey, and now Brian Laborn weren't just numbers and statistics. It was almost enough to make one believe in a higher power, something Trish's power had disabused her of from almost the moment she triggered. Still, in that moment, Trish made a silent prayer of thanks that Taylor Hebert existed. With a shiver, she made sure not to use her power to try to figure out if someone actually heard her prayer. That wasn't something she really wanted to know, as something tickled the edge of her consciousness, something she'd forgotten from a while ago.
Eyes wide, Trish attempted to recapture that memory, her power completely on. It was to no avail, however. She knew it was likely because it was linked to whoever had sent Tony Stark to Taylor. Someone, or something, that was as far above humans as they were above microbes. Rubbing her suddenly pounding head, Trish took a QT and fell asleep in her chair.
Her dreams were troubled, and nothing that she could remember when she woke up. Strangely, a three-sided mountain lurked as a image in her mind and filled her with a sensation of dread so intense that for a moment she just couldn't breath. Then it was gone, as if it had never existed.
It was a much more sober Trish Rogers who rode home with her best friend Taylor Hebert that night.
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone