章 2579: 4
Chapter Four—Reminiscent of the Past
Chapter Four—Reminiscent of the Past
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
Taylor walked in through the back door of her house, Trish right behind her. She gestured towards the fridge. "If you're hungry, there's lunch meat for making sandwiches. Plus lettuce and stuff."
Trish shrugged. "Not really." For a moment, her expression grew even more inquisitive as she stared around Taylor's kitchen.
Taylor suggested, "How about a shower, then?"
Trish shot her an amused glance. "Is that your polite way of saying I need one?"
Taylor couldn't help the words that spilled out of her mouth. "Pretty much, yeah."
"Show me the bathroom, then." Trish looked even more amused as she grandly gestured for Taylor to lead the way.
At least she didn't seem offended as Taylor tried to figure out why she'd said what she did. That kind of blunt honesty hadn't ever been her thing and was even less so after the last couple years.
Setting the girl up with clean clothes and a towel, Taylor went back downstairs and started up her computer. She could at least do some encoding today. If there was an opportunity to slip away, she'd head downstairs to the basement and check on her little chemistry experiment. If not, she would do her best to get a few thousand lines of code written. At least it was so easy that she could practically do it in her sleep.
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
'Trish' stared at herself in the mirror after her shower. At least she was clean now, although there was a deeper feeling of filth, as if her soul were stained. The most recent scenes with her parents had been abhorrent, and she wished that she'd never gotten this power. Or if she had to have it, she could have gotten it before her brother died and finished the demolition of her family.
Not that any of them had ever been close. Maybe it was the wealth, as money had never been in short supply. There was a subtle corruption that having too much money carried with it. Maybe it was something else. Something lacking in her parents that they'd passed on to Trish and her brother. In the end, it didn't matter.
Her brother's suicide followed by her own admission that she'd wondered if something was wrong had finally splintered her family. Her parents accusations, as if somehow she was responsible for what he had done, had hardened her towards them. The stress at the time had triggered her, giving her a Thinker power that always sought for answers, even when there were no questions.
And Trish had found her answers, running away when her father tried to use her and her talent for the family's gain. Now she had no real family left.
Trish had taken money with her before leaving. Probably too much money if she were honest. But the police had apparently never been called, whether because of a fear of the publicity it would bring or a fear of her, she didn't know. Likely, it was a little of both. Trish was careful not to think too deeply on the matter as she was still nursing a headache because of the earlier situation.
Having a stranger come up out of the blue and hug her, while acting as if they were friends, had immediately raised a red flag with Trish, sending her ability into overdrive. She had immediately seen that it was an external factor driving the other and had found it in the two figures behind her. Trish had been trying to figure out a path that would allow her to escape, when the other girl had acted without hesitation, pulling her along with her, like a leaf on the wind.
Confronted by one of the two men, Trish had known that he wouldn't hesitate at violence. Even against a couple of teenage girls. All the subtle indicators were there in his expression and stance. One glance at the man's face and Trish's ability told her that her only choice was to try to run, hoping he would hesitate to shoot her in the back with so many witnesses present.
Again, Taylor had surprised her by acting so unexpectedly, her cries of rape and accusations of pedophilia drawing so much attention to them that the man had hesitated. Trish had seen the moment he decided he'd lost and departed. It spoke of training and discipline. Which, in turn, spoke of an organization existing in Brockton Bay which wasn't one of the established ones, as none of them employed professional mercenaries.
Trish closed her eyes, trying to stop thinking about it for now. Although it wasn't whoever that was behind the kidnapping that had given her this headache. Rather it was the person who had rescued her. Taylor Hebert.
The girl was simply too different. Her actions were too strange. They would not lend themselves to parsing and trying to do so gave Trish a migraine. On the surface, she was a fifteen-year-old girl. Obviously shy, likely bullied at some point, Taylor was an introvert, damaged and reticent. She was also exactly opposite of the person who had rescued her.
Trish's rescuer had been skilled, decisive, and brash. Flourishing on deception. Confident to the point of recklessness, that person hadn't hesitated at any point during the crisis. That person had trusted their own judgment enough to intervene in a situation where they probably shouldn't have. A situation they shouldn't have even noticed. Trish, herself, hadn't noticed the developing kidnapping, even with her power. Nor had the Boardwalk guards.
Instead, that ostensibly fifteen-year-old girl had. And her reactions after had been that same curious blend of shy and quiet, and brash and confident. Even her body language had alternated between the two.
Was Taylor a Parahuman? Or mentally ill? The first was possible, while the second seemed highly unlikely. Some kind of Thinker ability? Perhaps. If so, it could be interfering with Trish's own, as she didn't seem to be able to fill in the holes surrounding the other's behavior.
Trish hadn't forgotten the reaction to her quick analysis or the other girl's response, which had been just as accurate, if less complete. That spoke of a something of the nature of a Thinker. Her headache redoubled and Trish deliberately shut off her power. She was slowly getting better at doing that, though if she didn't focus, it would automatically activate whenever a question came up. Which sucked, as Trish didn't need the migraines. Besides, using her ability didn't seem to be helping in this case.
No, Trish was learning as much or more about Taylor from observing her and using her own native intelligence to consider the mystery of the girl as she was using her power. In a lot of ways, that was truly frightening as she had quickly come to depend upon it to keep her safe.
On the other hand, Taylor did not appear to be any kind of threat to her. The sincere surprise in Taylor's eyes when she'd invited Trish home mixed with her naive honesty was enough reassurance of that. She projected a kind of innate decency that Trish wasn't used to seeing. It spoke of a nurturing home environment, which likely meant her father wasn't a threat either. Nobody who could raise someone like Taylor would be a danger to Trish, at least in the physical sense. Whether he'd want someone like herself around his innocent daughter was a different matter. Well, if necessary, she could play a part.
Trish finished dressing and headed downstairs. A quick search proved that Taylor was in the den, which was a home office for all intents and purposes, although it did have a couch and TV. Walking in, Trish noted the figure furiously typing on a keyboard. She raised her eyebrows at the rate of keystrokes as it had to be well over three hundred and fifty a minute. She carefully avoided thinking about the exact answer as it was unimportant.
Trish cleared her throat after a moment when she realized the other girl was in a world of her own. A startled face looked up, then the other girl stopped typing. "Feeling cleaner? The clothes fit okay?"
Trish nodded a yes, although in truth they were a little long and just a bit tight, the other girl being pretty much a string bean. But they would do for now. She responded. "Thanks for that, by the way. It's good to feel clean."
"Yeah, I know the feeling. Hungry yet? If you want, you can sit on the couch over there and watch TV."
"The couch sounds good. I might even take a nap." There, that sounded innocent enough. Besides, she was exhausted, moving around too much recently to get any real rest.
Taylor went back to typing as Trish lay down. She listened to the keys rapidly clicking away. Her eyes felt heavy, and while she wanted to have answers to her questions, the looming migraine coupled with her lack of sleep, robbed her of an opportunity to gain them. Still troubled, Trish fell into a deep slumber.
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
Once the other girl was out, Taylor finished the block of code she was typing out, then headed downstairs. Observing the containers, she noted that all of the metals had separated from the ceramic blocks and gone into solution. Carefully, Taylor poured off the chemicals containing the metals she needed, until she had it all.
Now it was just a matter of getting the metals to precipitate out of the solution, which took another hour as they had to come out one at a time in order to keep them separated. In the end, Taylor was left with a surprisingly large amount of each rare metal. Then again, Tony had based his calculations on the amount used in cars on his world, which apparently wasn't quite the same as on her own.
Weighing out the metals using the secondhand digital scale she'd bought and refurbished, Taylor found out that she now had just over fifteen hundred grams of platinum, four hundred and eight one of rhodium, and seven hundred and seventy-five of palladium. It was more than ample for her needs. The palladium alone was sufficient to make at least three arc reactors, while the platinum would be good to either sell or hold back in case she needed to use it as a catalyst or plating.
Taylor busied herself with all of the other details of the reactor, from the windings for the electromagnetic coils to the frame of the torus itself. Having built several of these now, or rather Tony had, it really was simple to do one more. The hardest thing was going to be melting the palladium into a ring as the heat needed exceeded most noncommercial methods. But Tony had an idea there that Taylor would implement later.
At this rate, the reactor would be done no later than Monday. Which was plenty of time for her to set up a power grid for the house.
It was important to take her home off the commercial power grid for a number of reasons. First, it would save her dad money, though it would eventually raise questions with him. Taylor would deal with those questions at whatever future time they occurred.
Second, with the amount of power her homemade super computer was going to be using, it would be an instant red flag to the authorities that something was going on here. With cooling and everything else built in, her so-called super computer was going to need roughly twelve kilowatts to run.
Based upon Tony's memories of SHIELD, Taylor had done a search on how the PRT tracked villains. Excessive use of power had been one of them and especially effective in catching nascent Tinkers.
While Taylor wasn't exactly a Tinker, she was close enough for them to consider her one. The last thing she wanted was the PRT or the Protectorate sticking its nose into her business. Therefore not using the commercial power grid.
Third, it would allow her to begin to build her first suit. Only begin, though, as it would be mostly planning. Taylor would need a dedicated space several times the size of the basement for the full manufacturing process. Not that most of the machines were all that large, but there were so many of them, several of which were complex enough to require JARVIS to constantly monitor them. Unless she wanted to go with something like her first suit, but that felt a little too primitive to her memories after all of the advanced ones she- Tony had worn.
When you added in the items she was going to need to invent for sale, Taylor could see the power bills heading into the stratosphere.
When she was done cleaning up, having carefully stored the remaining chemicals in gallon glass containers, she headed back upstairs. Glancing at the clock in the kitchen as she walked by, Taylor was shocked to see that it was almost four in the afternoon. That meant she'd been downstairs for over five hours.
Hurriedly, Taylor headed in the den to check on her guest, only to find her still asleep, the smallest line of drool extending from her half open mouth. She studied Trish's face as she heard the faint snores. A scattering of freckles Taylor hadn't noticed before ran along the girl's upper cheeks and across her snub nose, making her look younger, and almost innocent. Still, even in slumber, Trish's face looked slightly tense, as if the weight of the world were upon her. Taylor could feel both a sense of empathy for her and a sense of danger from her, the latter likely emanating from Tony as he read something she didn't.
The girl was definitely a puzzle. Someone wanted her. Someone who probably wouldn't stop looking. She would need to lie low for awhile. As long as there were no sightings, not even SHIELD could find someone. Of course, SHIELD didn't employ the same kind of Thinkers and Precogs that existed here, so she would still need to be extra watchful. Until at least her armor was done. Then they could watch out for her. If anyone tried to hurt her or the people she cared about, Taylor would rain down fire upon them until they existed in the heart of hell, their flesh roasting as they burned ali-
Taylor's nails dug into her palm hard enough to draw blood, only their shortness preventing her skin from breaking. Taking deep breaths, slowly and carefully inhaling and exhaling, she forced her thoughts away from their previous path. I'm Taylor Hebert, I don't hurt people, she silently repeated, over and over again. After a few minutes of the silent mantra, it seemed to work well enough. Her dark thoughts receded and her heart was no longer pounding a mile a minute.
Sitting down in her chair, Taylor laid her weary head down on the keyboard and considered what had just happened. In its own way, her mental break had been more frightening than intervening in the attempted kidnapping this morning. For just a moment, Taylor had felt herself slipping away, an alien personality taking her place. One that was full of rage and guilt, as well as a self hatred that while understandable, was truly mindbogglingly. A personality that would hesitate at nothing to prevent an occurrence like the one that had killed him and the people he cared about from happening again.
Wordlessly, Taylor stared off into space. Maybe the attempted kidnapping was a trigger for her flashback. If so, she could manage by avoiding stressful events for a while. If not, there wasn't much she could do except to stand strong and try her best. Timidity and passivity wouldn't serve her here. Taylor would need to be ready to fight tooth and nail for her innate sense of self if anything like this happened again. Either act was going to change her, but at least this one would be of her own volition.
Sighing, Taylor went back to work, mindlessly tapping out code. She'd stop at 5:30 and start dinner. By then, Trish should be awake and could help distract her. Just thinking about the girl was a good distraction, just so long as Taylor didn't think about how they'd met.
So Taylor sat, slowly relaxing as she typed away, all the while pondering her unexpected guest. She came to no real conclusions and would reserve judgment until she learned more. And she would learn more, eventually. Taylor could not allow a danger to her and her dad to exist. If Trish turned to be one, she'd deal with her. Until then, she would help her as best she could.
With that decision made, some fundamental part of Taylor relaxed. She was still herself. If not wearing her heart on her sleeve as she'd done when younger, Taylor was, at least, still a good person willing to help others. She couldn't really ask any more of herself than that.
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
Danny quietly let himself in, tossing his keys in the bowl by the door. He was running late and needed to let Taylor know he was home. Still, he hesitated a moment, thinking deeply. Standing there, Danny made a decision. Saturday, he was going to fix that damn step out front. For the longest time, it had been a symbol of his life and family, something broken that refused to heal. It had existed that way since his wife's death. But no longer. Just as his relationship with his daughter was slowly growing stronger, so too needed the things that represented it. First the step, then anything else in the house that required work. Likely those rain gutters would need cleaning again before Spr-
Danny froze as he heard voices. He quickly moved towards the den, his eyes and ears open. The voices grew louder until he could hear them clearly as he stood in the doorway, surprised by what he saw.
Taylor and a blonde girl were sitting on the couch eating popcorn while watching a movie. The Princess Bride, Danny thought in amusement. Still, he was wondering who the other girl was. Looking at her, she appeared a little older than Taylor, maybe a year. And she was wearing Taylor's clothes.
A hundred scenarios rushed through his head, all of them the kind that would worry any parent. Then Danny shook his head ruefully. It wasn't as if his serious, sensible daughter would do anything too crazy. No, she just wasn't the type. Still, he was curious, and cleared his throat to get their attention.
Two sets of eyes, one brown, the other green, turned his way. A second later, Taylor had the movie on pause. She got up and crossed over to him, giving him a quick hug. "Hey, Dad. How was your day?"
Danny smiled and said, "Good. Got some things taken care of with the Mayor's office. We should be seeing a few new jobs coming in soon."
Taylor smiled back at him, although with a pang, Danny noted it was another of those surface smiles. "I'll keep my fingers crossed for you."
Danny glanced past her quizzically, wondering how long his daughter was going to wait before introducing him to her guest. He didn't have to wait long as Taylor took the hint.
She reached down and grabbed the other girl's arm, hauling her to her feet. "Dad, this is Trish. Trish, this is my dad, Daniel Hebert. Dad, Trish is going to be staying with us for a few days if that's okay. I already told her it was. I'm sorry that I didn't ask you first. Is it okay?"
Danny felt like a flounder, aware his mouth opened and closed at a couple of times. Then he got his composure back. "It's nice to meet you, Trish. Welcome to our home."
Trish smiled at him. "It's nice to meet you as well, Mr Hebert. Thanks for letting me stay here."
Danny smiled back, then said, "Taylor, can I talk to you alone for a minute?"
"Sure. I'll be back in a second to finish watching the movie, Trish. But you can go and ahead and unpause it if you want."
Trish shrugged, saying, "Okay." With that, she started the movie up again as Danny led his daughter back out of earshot to the kitchen.
He quietly asked, "What's going on, Taylor? Who is this girl?"
Taylor looked him in the eye as she explained, "I met her today on the Boardwalk. A couple of guys were hassling her. I helped run them off. Dad, she's homeless. She didn't have a place to stay, so I told her she could crash here for a bit."
Danny immediately felt a sense of alarm at hearing about his daughter getting into an altercation. "What guys? How did you get involved? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. I didn't even have to use the pepper spray you gave me. I did have it with me, though. But, they really weren't that tough. Not when a few words from me got them to back off."
Danny examined his daughter minutely. She did look fine, standing there straight with her shoulders back. She looked... confident. It was a nice change to the girl who had been steadily growing more and more quiet and beat down. He switched tactics. "If Trish is a runaway, there's going to be people looking for her. Her family's probably worried sick about her."
Taylor looked troubled for a moment. "I don't think so, Dad. I think her home situation is pretty bad. From talking to her, I got the impression that she doesn't really trust adults. That's one of the reasons I invited her to stay here. I think she needs to have people around who she can depend on. People like you and me. A parent and a friend. To show her that there are good people out there. People that care about others. That care about her."
Danny stood there, stunned by his daughter's words. A growing sense of pride warred with worry over his daughter's decision. In the end, pride won by a landslide. What Taylor was talking about doing was a truly wonderful thing. He was so proud of her that he could burst. Still, a niggle of commonsense had him saying, "Taylor, you know we don't really have the money to feed another person."
Taylor gave him a genuine smile, those being rare enough for Danny to treasure every single one of them. "Trish has some money. She can chip in on the groceries. And she's going to get a job."
Danny considered his daughter's words, then asked, "Shouldn't she be in school?"
Taylor shrugged. "She's already gotten her GED. She's pretty smart."
Danny leaned back against the stove, his arms hanging at his sides. "It sounds like you already have everything figured out. Is the guest room ready for her?"
"I already made up the bed with clean sheets and got her pillows and a blanket. Although I don't know how much she'll sleep tonight. She slept all day on the couch. I think it was the first time she's felt safe in a while."
Danny sighed. He could no more kick this new girl out than he could his own daughter. Still, he would keep an eye on her. Do his best to get to know her, maybe try a little parenting, careful not to be too overbearing. Hopefully, he could eventually get Trish to talk about her family. Find out exactly what had happened to make her leave home.
"Okay, kiddo. Is there anything to eat, or do I need to slave over a hot stove?"
Taylor pulled open the oven, and took out a pan of some kind of noodle casserole. It smelled pretty good, and Danny could see chunks of both chicken and sausage in it. Loading up a plate, he took a big bite. It was extremely good, wonderful flavors filling his mouth. Silently, he raised his eyes towards Taylor.
She shrugged. "Trish knew how to make it. Well, I made it, but she showed me how."
Danny wondered if the girl was as good a cook in other areas. If so, she wouldn't have trouble finding a job. Picking up his plate, he said, "Let's go finish the movie. Then I can get to know Trish a little. And she can get to know me."
Taylor gave him a quick hug, then led the way back to the den. As Danny followed, he reflected on his too mature daughter. In hindsight, he decided that Taylor wasn't too mature. No, his wonderful daughter was just mature enough.
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
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