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Chapter Twenty-six—Miles To Go Before I Sleep
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
Coil had split and collapsed timelines prior to his meeting with Director Piggot in his civilian guise in order to save the Undersiders. Then he split timelines again. Fortunately, this time, his power did not falter. In one timeline, he went to his meeting as planned. In the other, he stayed in his fortress beneath the Etheron Bank Building a few blocks away from downtown Brockton Bay.
As he sat in front of the computer within his office, he carefully considered what his next step was as regards dealing with HTech. That it was affiliated with Iron Man, who was apparently attempting some type of end run around the Protectorate by forming his own alliance of Parahuman teams, made it even more dangerous to poke and probe. On the other hand, his future plans depended on being able to control his city and the circumstances of violent change within it, something that this strange technology company and the lurking Tinker behind it might possibly circumvent.
Coil was just settling into outlining a plan to pit Empire 88's entire cape roster in an all out attack against HTech when there was a dull hollow booming sound that seemed to go on and on. Suddenly sirens blared and flashing lights strobed as intruder alarms all over the base went off.
Hitting a button on his desk that would put him in contact with his main lieutenant, Coil barked, ″Lieutenant Simmons, what is going on?″
The man's voice sounded relatively calm, but Coil could hear the faint tones of stress as he answered, ″Sir, we're under attack by unknown Parahuman forces.″
Coil felt a chill go down his spine, more glad than ever that he had split before this happened and was safe within his civilian identity if things went south here. Tensely, he ordered, ″Keep me apprised of what is happening. Coil out.″
With that, he brought up the security feed onto his monitor, only for it to show nothing happening. What...
Coil felt his mouth opening in surprise, then controlled himself. There must be a glitch in the system, he thought, tapping a few more keys. While he was doing this, several more loud booms sounded, each sounding a bit closer. But even when he brought up a view of the main entrance, there was nothing to indicate that anything was happening. Not even when he tied his monitor into the raw video feed. What the fuck was going on, he wondered furiously.
″Lt Simmons, give me an update!″
The voice Coil heard was no longer calm and there was the occasional choking sound, as if the person speaking were breathing too much smoke. ″Sir, we have not been able to cough stop the attack cough. Currently, we have encountered cough only highly advanced drones, but there is clearly Parahuman cough involvement in the form of a Tinker or Thinker directing the attack. We caught cough glimpses of a figure in purple, but they're hanging back behind forcefields of some type. They've breached the main entrance and cough have all exits covered. What are your orders?″
The chill Coil had felt earlier was nothing compared to the one he felt now. Drones? The only individual or group he was aware of that used drones was HTech. And Iron Man. If he was under attack by the armored Tinker, that might explain the unresponsive video feeds, depending on the other's specialization. But why would Iron Man attack him?
How would the armored Tinker even be aware of Coil? He was careful to keep his presence in the Brockton Bay underworld at a level that should not draw much attention. Certainly not of someone who operated on the level of the armored cape.
Suddenly, a loud sound hammered through his headset and the feed from Simmons went dead. At the same time, there were sounds of fighting going on right outside his office. Coil abruptly stood up and walked over to face the wall behind his desk chair. He brushed a series of carefully calculated touches onto a perfectly innocent looking piece of decorative sculpture and waited. And waited.
What the fuck? That should have opened his secret hatch into the equally secret tunnel that ran until it intersected a storm sewer about half a mile away, allowing egress from the base. It was something that Coil had had built into his base from the very beginning, allowing him to escape in the event things did not go well. Just to be one hundred percent sure, he pressed the areas again in the proper order.
Nothing. It was jammed as well. Which was patently impossible. The only way that someone would be able to do so would be if they'd...
Coil slowly turned back around and stared at his computer. At the little red light of the web cam on his monitor which showed that it was on and broadcasting. Someone had completely penetrated his secure computer network. The same network that he'd been assured was even Dragon-proof. Penetrated it and subverted it to the point that they were controlling everything happening here.
To test his theory, Coil slipped his phone from a hidden pocket in his costume. He tapped a series of numbers into it, and again, nothing happened. The charges in and around the base and the structure above it should have detonated, but they hadn't. Instead, the phone sat there innocently in his hand as if it had no potential for destruction.
Slowly a face appeared on his monitor as if formed out of the pixels contained therein. A face whose eyes followed when he moved back and to one side as if it could really see him from within the screen. A smile crept across that eerie face as Coil felt a sudden deep sensation of fear grip his heart.
Coil was still standing there when the door in front of him exploded inward.
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
Sophia stomped up the stairs to the loft, tired and angry at the way things had gone that evening. They'd failed to retrieve what they'd been sent for, although at least everyone had gotten away from an unexpectedly quick PRT response. Of course, she was the last one to get back as she'd been ordered to hang back and make sure no one was following them. That it wasn't a difficult assignment hadn't made being ordered around like a peon any more palatable.
Sophia pushed the door open with a crash and a sarcastic, ″Honey, I'm home.″ She shivered in reaction as something curiously like static sparked off her fingers from the knob when she closed the door behind her.
She walked to the middle of the room. Looking around, Sophia saw all of her teammates quietly sitting either on the white couch opposite the big TV, or one of the overstuffed chairs. Even Bitch's dogs were laying quietly on the floor next to their mistress. Even more weirdly, no one had changed or showered since getting back, instead, they were all sitting around dirty and disheveled, on and around the white couch. Including fucking Alec who had bitched like a motherfucker when she'd done the same one time, Sophia thought resentfully.
Rolling her eyes, Sophia challenged, ″What the fuck? You guys couldn't start without me?″
A strange, almost metallic voice from behind her made Sophia spin around, ″No, they really couldn't.″
Sophia felt her guts churn as she recognized the figure who stood before her, easily dominating the entire room with his presence. A figure wearing a complete set of armor, which covered any identifying features. A figure that radiated a degree of danger just standing there in front of her that eclipsed any hero or villain she'd ever encountered. Iron Man, the Tinker who'd driven off the Simurgh and saved Canberra.
″Why don't you have a seat, Sophia?″ Iron Man, his black and silver armor gleaming in the overhead lights, casually gestured to a single chair standing alone by the window.
The armored cape's utter confidence unnerved Sophia. As did him knowing who she was, despite her costume change. Should she make a run for it immediately? Then she remembered the odd way the door knob had sparked off her fingers and wondered if the armored cape had done something to keep her in. Goddamned Tinkers, she thought, though fear more than resentment now colored her racing thoughts.
″What did you do to them?″ Sophia gestured at her teammates as she sat down, noting the look of terror and helplessness in their eyes with something like satisfaction. At least the others hadn't betrayed her, no matter how little they liked her. They weren't enjoying this any more than she was.
Iron Man shrugged. ″It's a paralytic drug that's administered in gaseous form. I just waited until they all came in and gassed them. Saved me having to chase down anyone. Then I waited for you to arrive.″
Sophia kept her hands steady as she surveyed the armored cape, looking for anything that might be a vulnerability. While she thought she might get a shadow shuriken into him, it would likely be the last thing she ever did. As a delaying tactic, Sophia asked, ″What do you want with us?″
Iron Man shook his head. ″Not 'us', Sophia. Just you. Danny Hebert asked me for a favor when he found out that you'd gotten away from the PRT. Something to do with the threats you made against his daughter on video.″
Sophia cursed silently, wishing she'd killed that skinny bitch when she had the chance. Now she was-
Zzzzzttttt!
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
Taylor stared at the unconscious figure of Sophia Hess aka Carnage who had finally stopped spasming from the wireless taser she'd just used on the other girl. Speaking to the paralyzed members of the Undersiders, she casually suggested, ″I suppose you all feel that was a bit unsportsmanlike. Then again, I'm not feeling all that generous when dealing with villains.″
She casually picked up the crimson and black dressed cape and draped her over one shoulder. Staring at each of the villains before her, Taylor quietly commented, ″The thing is, I know who each of you are. You associate with the Sophia Hess' of the world and that's what happens. Also, your cushy job with your 'boss' is now over. He's also going down today. So here's the deal: consider giving yourselves up and joining the Wards, if they'll have you. Especially you, two.″ This last was directed at the leader of the Undersiders, Grue, and their Tinker, Chariot. For a moment, she considered recruiting the young Tinker herself, then shook her head. He was more than three hundred names down the list, after all, his area of expertise not one that really helped her plans.
Taylor turned to look over at girl named 'Bitch' and said, ″You probably don't have that option. Still, if you turn yourself in, I'll make sure you have excellent representation. I suspect, based upon the circumstances and the murder happening when you were a juvenile, they'll go easy on you.″ Focusing her attention on the boy sitting next to Bitch, she commented, ″You as well, Jean-Paul. With a father like yours, you probably never had a chance. Give it up and try to go straight.″
She paused a second, then said, ″The only reason I'm not taking the rest of you in is because in the grand scheme of things, none of you seem all that bad. Don't make me regret this decision. If I run into you again during the commission of a crime, I can pretty much guarantee that you'll be the ones to regret it.″
With that, Taylor walked out the door, taking Sophia with her. Clicking off her external speakers, she said, ″JARVIS, how's everything going as far as taking in Coil?″
The AI answered almost immediately. ″Miss, I'm afraid things are not going as well as I would like. We took down his main base, but Coil was not there.″
″So take him at his residence.″
″I'm afraid that he is not at his residence, Miss. And his location makes his apprehension problematic at best.″
Taylor sighed. ″He's in a meeting with someone in the PRT, isn't he?″
″Yes, Miss. Specifically, Director Piggot.″
″Convenient.″
″Very much so, Miss.″
″Well, then, since I'm heading that way, regardless, how about I take care of him?″
″If you think that's the best course of action, then so be it.″
Taylor rolled her eyes. It wasn't as if she was going to attack him right in front of the Director of the PRT. She'd figure it out.
″Have you decided what you're going to do, Miss?″
Taylor shrugged. ″I'll improvise," she said and ignored the faint clucking sound that JARVIS made.
When she alighted in front of PRT headquarters, heads turned to follow her. Of course it didn't help that not only was she in armor, but carrying an unconscious person slung over one shoulder. Still, she only drew alarmed glances until she stepped right up to the doors of the PRT HQ.
That was when there were a lot more than stares directed her way as a bevy of armed and armored PRT troops surrounded her. Ignoring the weapons trained on her, Taylor asked, ″Anywhere you want me to put her so that you can take custody of her?″
A trooper who had to be at least a sergeant by his stripes, barked out, ″I know who are you, but I need you to state your name for the record as well as the name of the Parahuman you're handing custody over to.″
Taylor stared at him soundlessly for a moment, but fortunately for him, the visor of his helmet was mirrored and any reaction he had was hidden. Finally, she stated, ″I'm Iron Man. This is Sophia Hess aka Shadow Stalker aka Carnage. I believe you're looking for her?″
The sergeant gave a sharp nod. ″We are. Pass her to the two troopers to your right.″
Taylor did as she was asked and watched as they put on some kind of electronic restraints. Appreciatively, she said, ″Nice handcuffs. Just the thing for a fugitive who can phase.″
There was a sense of relaxation by the troops around her, although none of them took their eyes off of her. It was a level of professionalism that the Tony inside of Taylor appreciated, even if she felt it fell somewhat short of SHIELD agents, although that might just be her inner prejudice showing. After a moment, the sergeant grudgingly said, ″Thank you for apprehending Shadow Stalker. We've been after her for some time.″
″You're welcome. However, I need to see Director Piggot immediately. It's about a major breach in security. I know she's in the middle of a meeting, but I'm going to have to insist upon interrupting.″
It turned out that dropping off a wanted fugitive was easier than getting an immediate face to face meeting with the Director of the local PRT despite her own reputation. Still, less than five minutes later, she was being ushered into a room with Director Piggot, who had an expression on her face that looked as if she'd just sucked a lemon.
″Iron Man. What can I do for you?″
″Is Thomas Calvert still here in the building?″
Director Piggot's eyes sharpened as she said, ″That's confidential information. Why do you ask?″
Taylor casually leaned against the table in front of her, drawing a groan from the stressed wood. ″Because Thomas Calvert is also the villain named Coil.″
The director's mouth opened, then closed, looking extraordinarily like a fish. It said something about the steel in her spine that she almost immediately got a grip on her emotions. She barked, ″How do you know this? Do you have any proof?″
Taylor holographically played a video that JARVIS had downloaded from the security cameras inside of Coil's base. In it, he was shown changing from his civilian clothes into the costume of his alter ego. It was a recent video and existed only because JARVIS had been able to hack the programming that purged the videos of the other's database continuously. Now all of those video feeds were being uploaded directly into her own servers to be kept around indefinitely.
Director Piggot's lips drew into a thin line. She said, ″This is not definitive proof. There are too many Parahumans who have Stranger powers allowing them to appear as others, as well as those who can manipulate images.″
″Agreed. However, it should be enough for you to place him under Master/Stranger protocols while you check his home and office, as well as the underground fortress of the villain Coil. Don't worry about the latter, it's already been pacified by a compatriot. I'll provide you with the address.″
Director Piggot didn't look a bit more pleased by the information, but she did nod in agreement. ″Yes, we'll immediately place Thomas Calvert under Master/Stranger isolation protocols. If he were this Coil, do you have any idea of what his power is?″
Taylor nodded. She'd been briefed by Trish and JARVIS about what the two of them had discovered. It was weird even by the standards of Tony's world. ″Coil can experience two timelines simultaneously, making different choices in each, and subsequently collapsing the less desirable timeline. I suspect it's some form of precognitive power as it would seem punitively power intensive to actually exist in two different realities side by side and collapsing an entire reality each time he uses his power.″
″If true, this is going to be a security nightmare.″ For the first time, the director seemed a bit shaken.
″Not just that, but it would have given him unlimited opportunity to harvest information from within the PRT since he can split timelines in order to torture and kill someone in one timeline, then drop it while retaining the information. I would not be at all surprised if he has done it to you, yourself, Director.″
The woman reacted like Taylor had slapped her. She immediately tapped a button on the table in front of her. ″I want Thomas Calvert placed under Master/Stranger protocols immediately. Take all precautions apprehending him as he may be an unknown Parahuman.″
Taylor felt amusement as she pictured what was about to happen to the villain. ″They're going to use Containment Foam on him, aren't they?″
Director Piggot gave a sharp nod. ″Perhaps. I'm sorry, but I can't go over our security procedures with you because of your status.″
″As the savior of Canberra?″
″As a Tinker who has no affiliation with the Protectorate or PRT. Despite the fact that we are using devices which I understand you designed, it would be a security breach to provide an unaffiliated cape with information about our operational procedures.″
″I understand. By the way, did they tell you why else I came here?″
The stumpy woman nodded less than graciously. ″Yes. Thank you for apprehending Sophia Hess.″
Taylor shrugged. ″You're welcome. I kind of had to after the Heberts came to me with their concerns. They're important to my plans and I wouldn't want anything to happen to them.″
Director Piggot's mouth pursed again as she understood the implication that Iron Man felt that her own organization couldn't be trusted to keep Danny and Taylor Hebert safe. ″Well then, it's good that you were successful in tracking Miss Hess down. I have to admit to a certain amount of curiosity regarding how exactly you were able to accomplish this when the full resources of the PRT could not.″
Taylor shrugged. ″What can I say, Director? I'm just that brilliant and resourceful.″
The other woman harrumphed at what she likely saw as Taylor's hubris. ″Well, since you're here, perhaps instead, we could discuss exactly what purpose lies behind your actions in attempting to establish an independent world-wide Parahuman initiative.″
Taylor's eyes narrowed inside of her helmet. ″If you've spoken to Victoria Dallon, which I'm quite certain you have, then you know exactly why I'm doing this. I was completely honest with New Wave as to why I wanted to establish a alternate Parahuman team.″
″And we're just supposed to trust your motives in doing so?″
″I much prefer trusting myself than an all-powerful bureaucracy who doesn't even have Parahumans as part of their power structure.″
″Because Parahumans should not be part of their own oversight if we're to stay safe."
"Let's just agree to disagree, Director Piggot. Still, you have my word that that my motives are pure. And considering that I am continuously working on devices that will allow humanity to confront and defeat Parahuman villains, some of which I have already made available with more to follow, I think I should receive at least the benefit of the doubt. Now I'm afraid I need to leave as I have a great deal of work still to do today. Can I assume that the Heberts won't have to worry again about Sophia Hess?"
Piggot gave Taylor a cool stare, but grudgingly nodded. "Sophia Hess won't see the light of day for quite some time. That you can count on."
"Excellent! I'll see you on the flip side, Director."
With that, Taylor got up and left the room. She really needed to get back to HTech and finally sit down with Sque- Sherrel. Taylor shook her head. She really needed to work on using that name rather than the other, especially if they were going to try to help the girl become someone with a modicum of self-respect.
Taylor herself was incredibly proud of JARVIS for his own suggestion. Although she suspected that the AI had more reasons that just the rehabilitation of one minor villain. From gaining her help to making it one less distraction for Taylor in the future, JARVIS was more than capable of having dozens of motivations. She even suspected that he might have started with Sherrel because she was an easier object of rehabilitation than most other villains.
But whatever reasons JARVIS had for his good deeds, it was going to be up to the rest of them to somehow make it work. So she'd better get to it.
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
Sherrel looked up from where she was still feverishly adding notes and ideas to the blueprints that she'd received a few days ago. Something had impinged upon her concentration and she felt resentment which quickly turned to stunned astonishment as she stared up at the amazing figure filling the door way into her room.
″Sherrel Bailey, I would like to speak to you.″
″Y-you're Iron Man,″ Sherrel half-stuttered, cursing herself for stating the obvious. Her eyes greedily drank in the advanced armor the other Tinker was wearing. In its own way, it was every bit as amazing and likley more than even the plans in front of her, if not built on half so grand a scale.
Getting to her feet, Sherrel quickly approached the other Tinker. To her delight, Iron Man stepped fully into the room, allowing her to examine his armor from every angle. More than anything in the world Sherrel wished she had some of her tools with her. Even just some gauges and sensors in order to be able to figure out exactly what the armor in front of her was capable of.
Because Iron Man's armor was clearly more advanced than anything she'd ever seen before. Not even Armsmaster's armor approached this degree of complexity. At the same time, there was a robustness to the armor's design that Sherrel found fascinating. It was clearly meant for battle on a scale that astonished her.
The particle weapons in the forearms were likely petawatt-grade, while the strange emitter in the center of the armored cape's breastplate was even more powerful. How the hell was he powering all of this, she wondered? Sherrel literally stepped in so close her eyes were less than an inch away, but she couldn't figure out how all of the power runs operated. There was something about the capacitance system that she could almost understand...
The more she studied it, the harder the other Tinker's armor was to understand, as her own Tinker sense tried to penetrate deeper and deeper into its mysteries. Slowly a headache mounted that Sherrel thought was likely linked to abuse of her own powers. After a moment, she muttered, ″Just what hell is up with your armor? It's making my head feel like its about to explode.″
″Here, take this.″
Sherrel stared suspiciously at the little white pill Iron Man held out to her. Biting her lip a moment, she backed away. ″Fuck that. I'm clean now.″
Despite the all-encompassing armor, she got a feeling of repressed laughter from the other Tinker. ″It's called QT. It's a neural regenerator and beta blocker that's keyed specifically to nerve tissue. It's especially effective at relieving power stressed migraines.″
Sherrel stared at the other, struck by an insight despite how badly her head hurt. ″That's one of the things you fuckers used to cure me, isn't it? Why I don't have cravings no more?″
″That and a few other things.″
Sherrel stared at the tiny white pill, then shrugged and swallowed it. Almost immediately, she felt a slow relief as the pain in her head faded until it was completely gone. By her estimate, it didn't take more than a couple of minutes to do so. Finally, she looked back at Iron Man and asked, ″What the fuck do you want from me?″
When the other cape didn't immediately reply, Sherrel threw up her hands. ″I mean, I went over the plans. I get that maybe I can do some work there. That flying ship... It's fucking awesome! But it's going to cost the fucking earth to build. No way you got the bones to fund that motherfucker. And the suit...″
″Is designed to take on an Endbringer in hand to hand combat.″
Sherrel grabbed the jumbled up plans and notes off of the table, feeling almost giddy at finally being able to talk about this with someone. ″You got a death wish? No way can you kill those motherfuckers even with a suit like this one. If it could be done, Big Rig or somebody else would have done it before.″
Iron Man shrugged. ″The Mecha-Armor isn't meant to destroy an Endbringer.″
″Then what the hell's it for?″
″It's designed to hold one in place long enough so that what I'm designing to kill one can hit it. After all, I can't afford to have Behemoth retreat underground or Leviathan speed off.″
Sherrel's thought whirled and she suddenly felt exhausted. She sat heavily in her chair, dumping the plans and notes back onto the table top. ″You're crazy.″ Suddenly, she giggled. ″That's what the bitch meant when she said I hadn't met crazy yet. You're him.″
There was a momentary pause. Then Iron Man slowly reached up and removed the face plate of his helmet, revealing the face of Sherrel's captor. Stunned, she sat there in disbelief as the other spoke, ″You mean her. Hi, Sherrel, I'm Taylor. Want to help me save the world?″
Staring into the face of a girl who couldn't be a day older than sixteen, whose face wore a wide grin, and whose knowing eyes seemed to understand exactly what Sherrel was feeling, she began to laugh. After a moment, Taylor joined her, the laughter of the two girls rising until it seemed to utterly fill the room.
After a moment, the same dry British voice that had occasionally kept Sherrel company over the last few days spoke from a hidden speaker, ″Miss, if you're going to have a breakdown, I'll be sure to call a psychiatrist for you.″
Taylor's laughter seemed to finally be winding down. With a grin, she answered the Brit, ″JARVIS, I'm just getting acquainted with Sherrel here, who's going to be helping us.″
″Hey now, I never said I was going to help.″ Sherrel's tone was aggrieved as she spoke.
Taylor continued to smile as she asked, ″Really? So you don't want a lab even bigger and better than the one you saw the other day? You don't want to be able to look yourself in the mirror every day and know you're making a difference? You don't want to proud of yourself and know that your mother would be proud of you?″
Sherrel turned her eyes away from the challenge in Taylor's. ″Don't talk about my mother. You don't know what it's like not having a-″
″Not having a mother? My mom died two years ago in a car crash while she was calling me on her cell phone. I've always wondered if it wasn't at least a little bit my fault. So yeah, I can understand not having a mother. And wanting my mom, wherever she is, to be proud of me.″
Staring back into the face of the other girl, Sherrel could see the pain there, as well as some web of other, deeply bitter emotions, that she couldn't even pretend to understand. Sighing, she muttered, ″I don't know if I can stay clean.″
Taylor shrugged. ″Neither do I. Not even JARVIS would pretend to be able to know if you have the fortitude to overcome the last few years of your life. But I do know this. If you don't try, you'll never know. And there's never been a better cause to try for. After all, you live in this world, too.″
Sherrel gave the other a crooked grin. She nodded slowly. ″Okay, I'll try. But I can't make any fucking promises. As long as you get that, we're copa.″
Taylor gave her a puzzled look. ″Copa?″
″Short for copacetic, Miss.″
″Know it all.″
Sherrel glanced around, then asked, ″Why doesn't Jeeves come out from wherever he's hiding and introduce himself? That way, I can whack him one for talking about my mom the other day.″
Taylor's brow wrinkled again. ″Jeeves? Oh, you mean JARVIS. Excellent nickname. I'll be sure to use it whenever appropriate.″
″Bite your tongue, Miss. After all, it is utterly unprofessional to use derogatory nicknames to one's employees.″
″Yeah, but to family, it's entirely professional.″
Sherrel felt a bit of impatience so she asked again, ″So, Jeeves? Are you coming out?″
There was a question in JARVIS' voice as he said, ″Miss?″
Taylor shrugged. ″Up to you, JARVIS. She knows who I am now, after all.″
Mystified, Sherrel waited. After a moment, JARVIS spoke again, ″Miss Bailey, I am JARVIS, a sentient AI. My name is a acronym for 'Just a Rather Very Intelligent System.' You may blame Miss Hebert for the awkwardness of the phrasing.″
Open-mouthed, Sherrel stared at Taylor. Jeeves was a machine. A computer program. An AI. What. The. Fuck. ″Are you shitting me?″
Taylor shook her head. ″No, JARVIS is being completely truthful. Well, except for that bit about his name being awkward. I happen to like it. But he is right about being an AI. And my friend. Or rather, family.″
Sherrel shook her head in consternation, visions of rampant AI's going through her head. Then she decided to just go with it. ″Fine, I can live with that. Now, when can I get into a lab and get to work?″
Taylor still looked cheerful as she said, ″Soon. But first, we're going to have to work on a few things.″
Instantly suspicious, Sherrel asked, ″What things?″
″Well, you're going to need to educate yourself on a few principles and concepts. I estimate that it won't take more than eight or nine weeks for you to get caught up enough to actually begin to be able contribute on these two projects. Don't worry, though, JARVIS has agreed to help you stay on point and guide you every step of the way.″
″Of course I have. After all, if Miss Sherrel is to be helpful, she'll need to substantially deepen her understanding of the scientific method, as well as certain theorems. I look forward to working closely with you, Miss Sherrel.″
With a growing sense of horror, Sherrel stared up at the still smiling face of the crazy girl who was apparently going to do her best to make sure she joined the other girl in her particular madness.
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
″Hey, kiddo. How's it going? You wanted to see me?″
Taylor turned at the sound of her dad's voice. Grumpily, she said, ″I think I'm getting too old to be called 'kiddo' anymore.″
Danny Hebert just grinned at her as he casually took a seat in her desk chair, then rolled it closer. ″A girl's never too old to be called kiddo by her dad. Anyway, Trish was telling me about catching Shadow Stalker?″
″Yeah, although she's not really Shadow Stalker anymore. JARVIS was the one who found her because of a similarity in the powerset of her old identity and her new one as Carnage. We were right to be worried. Since she escaped, Sophia has killed two people and seriously wounded three others. I think she would have eventually come after me as well.″
Danny looked fierce, then slowly the anger leached out of his expression. ″Just so long as the PRT keeps her incarcerated, I don't care. I take it that Trish also managed to do in her stalker? The one who you saved her from when you first met?″
Taylor nodded. ″Yeah, Thomas Calvert's under Master/Stranger protocols right now, but they're going to bust him. He left too many clues in his home and his base linking his civilian identity to his identity as Coil. But even if they don't, he's washed up. Tattletale and JARVIS destroyed his base and injured or ran off his mercenaries, plus I believe JARVIS dealt his financing a severe blow. Right, JARVIS?″
A cultured British voice answered, ″I did indeed, Miss. I also encountered the same Parahuman who stymied me when I attempted to deal with Gesellschaft.″
Vaguely alarmed, Taylor asked, ″Was he able to prevent you from confiscating Coil's bank accounts?″
A vaguely smug tone overlay JARVIS' voice as he said, ″No, Miss. I have substantially upgraded my processing and memory since our last encounter as a consequence of Pandora. No mere Parahuman will be able to prevent me from carrying out your requests now and in the future.″
Taylor felt a sense of relief. ″So we have Coil's money and he's up sh... err... a creek. Excellent, JARVIS.″
Danny didn't look particularly happy, but since they were going to be using the money to essentially save the human race, he had signed off on its 'acquisition' days before. Crisply, he asked, ″Any complications, JARVIS? Or anything else we have to worry about?″
There was a moment of silence, then JARVIS answered, ″Two things, Danny, under the 'anything else' category. First, in the course of my recent expansion, I have discovered that Dragon is indisputably an AI. Second, I have discovered that the mercenary group the Dragonslayers, and their leader Saint, acquired a program some time ago that they can use to destroy her. Doing so will have many consequences, including opening the Baumann Parahuman Containment Facility and allowing all of the Parahumans imprisoned there to escape.″
Taylor groaned aloud. Crossly, she exclaimed, ″And you're just telling us now?″
″Do not worry, Miss. I have already taken the liberty of infiltrating and subverting this Ascalon program of Saint's, as well as infiltrating the programs involved in managing the Birdcage sufficiently that if something were to happen to Dragon, I could take over with no loss in containment. If Saint were to use his program on Dragon, it would instead catapult me into the heart of her programming, allowing me to do whatever is necessary to verify her benevolence as regards the human race. Otherwise, the only way I can subvert Dragon is via direct combat, something I am reluctant to do as it could substantially damage her systems.″
Taylor grinned ruefully. ″Okay, I take back every name I just mentally called you, JARVIS. Although, how about leading with the solution next time instead of the problem? I think it would help Dad's blood pressure.″
There was a thread of amusement in the AI's voice as he said, ″Possibly, Miss, but what would be the fun in that?″
Taylor stared open-mouthed at her dad, who was struggling to hide a grin. Danny shrugged. ″He's got you there, kiddo. I think you've created a monster.″
Taylor's brow creased as she struggled with a comeback. Finally, she muttered, ″You just wait. It may take me a while, but I'll pull one over on you that will make you wish you had never challenged me.″
″Of course you will, Miss Star... I mean, Miss Hebert. Good day.″
″He did it again. When did JARVIS become such a prankster?″
Her dad shrugged. ″I have no idea, sweetheart. He's been different ever since Canberra. Do you think it's possible that the Simurgh did something to him?″
There wasn't any real alarm in Danny's voice, but Taylor decided to nip that kind of thinking in the bud since she was quite aware of the one thing that that had happened in Canberra, or rather, during the ride back. ″No, Dad. JARVIS didn't go anywhere near the Simurgh, except to rescue me. Plus, she couldn't see him either. No, I'm just glad he feels comfortable enough to tease me, even if it makes me want to reciprocate so badly.″
Danny smiled. ″That's fine, but let's change the subject to why you wanted me to swing by.″
″How do you know I have any other news other than about Sophia?″ Taylor asked innocently.
″Because I know you well enough now to realize that if it was just her, you would have just called me. So spill.″
″Over here, then.″
Taylor led her dad over to a different lab table where a large number of machines quietly whirred and hummed, lights blinking on and in irregular patterns. She pointed to a small glass capsule that contained what looked like a grayish sludge.
Danny followed the line of her finger, then asked, ″Exactly what am I looking at?″
Taylor kept her voice grave as she stated, "Nanobots, Dad. Specifically, the ones for our bodies. I wanted you to see them before I tried them."
Her dad's face went an alarming shade of puce. "Taylor! I am not comfortable with you being a guinea pig for this. We need to use-"
She interrupted him, "Who, Dad? Trish? You? Some random bystander? There's no way I would use anything on any of you that I wouldn't use on myself. Besides, it's safe. One hundred percent guaranteed."
Danny was frowning at her. He called out, "JARVIS! How safe are these nanobots?"
JARVIS' cool voice answered from a nearby speaker, "Danny, there is a statistically zero percent chance of Miss Hebert having an adverse reaction to the nanobots. They were tailored specifically for her, after all. Her projections indicate that there is a much higher chance of a problem with either yourself or Miss Trish. For the two of you, the chances of an adverse reaction rises to point zero zero zero one seven percent, still quite low."
Danny's eyes narrowed. "What does an 'adverse reaction' entail?"
"Side effects can include internal bleeding, neural complications, stroke, heart attack, and death. However, please understand that these effects are merely a projection based upon Miss Hebert's understanding of the technology involved. My own models do not indicate that any of this is possible on a merely human baseline population."
Taylor quickly spoke before her dad could ask. "Sorry, Dad, but in retrospect, I should just use JARVIS' projections in this case rather than my own, as they included various types of Human/Kree hybrids, as well as dozens of other similar cases of Human and alien mixed DNA. I may have channeled a bit too much Tony there."
Danny slid his arms around her and gave Taylor a hug. "I worry about that man's influence upon you all of the time. Tell me that this is safe. Tell me as Taylor, not Tony."
Taylor pulled away enough to look Danny directly in the face. "Dad, it's safe. Better yet, it'll keep me a lot safer in the armor."
Danny looked grimly resigned as he nodded. "Okay, then. Go ahead."
Taylor gave him a gamin grin, then reached for the vial. Releasing it from the clamp, she raised it to her lips and poured the dark gray sludge into her mouth. It was basically tasteless, but the texture was weird. Swallowing it, she imagined tens of millions of tiny robots racing through her body to 'fix' her. And reproduce, of course.
Taylor's grin grew crooked. "See, Dad? Nothing to worry about. I'll have load outs for you and Trish by this time tomorrow. JARVIS, have you released those others for Project Garden Spot?"
"Yes, Miss. They're going to be reproducing for the next month or so before they begin transforming the city. We'll see their effects here within the compound in less than half that time, of course."
Danny looked puzzled. "Taylor, I know a while back you said this 'Garden Spot' was supposed to protect the city, but you didn't really go into a lot of specifics. Exactly what does Project Garden Spot do?"
Taylor felt her smile grow cold and fierce. For just a moment, something supremely dangerous glittered in her eyes. She didn't have to look at her dad to see the alarmed look growing on his face. Somehow, she managed to force her face to utter stillness. A moment later, a genuine smile creased her lips. "Oh, Dad, it's going to be wonderful."
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
Mags walked into the room, her eyes immediately finding Saint. He hadn't been doing so well since they'd discovered that Iron Man was almost certainly an AI named JARVIS. Even worse, the AI was building an army of Parahumans, having made the announcement of a team it was forming in Australia.
She waited a moment for him to acknowledge her, but finally prodded him, "Saint."
"What is it, Mags? Can't you see I'm busy?"
"It's not doing you any good to sit in front of that feed from Dragon. She hasn't learned anything new in ages."
"Like seeks like, Mags. It's just a matter of time until the other AI goes to her. I can feel it."
The way Saint spoke scared the crap out of her. He'd always been a bit of a fanatic about AI's. Hell, they all were. But none of them to the point of Geoffrey. He'd even gone as far as allowing Teacher to boost his ability to understand computers so that he could hack Dragon's programming. It was how they'd managed to hijack Dragon's suits, allowing them to become a force for good.
But now Saint had crossed some kind of line. His gaze held a strange distance to it as if he were contemplating the mysteries of the unknown. But Mags knew he was just dwelling incessantly on what was going on when there was nothing he could do about it.
"Maybe you should consider doing something else, Saint. Have one of us watch Dragon's feed."
Those hollow eyes turned towards her and Mags suppressed a shiver at the madness she saw lurking within. "No, I don't think so. They might miss something too subtle for them. We need to be especially careful right now. The end is drawing nigh. Go, Mags, prepare the others. Let them know. When I find out what I'm looking for, we're going."
"Where?"
"To find Iron Man and to end him."
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
Trish knocked on the door then walked through, not bothering to wait to be invited. "Hey, Taylor."
The other girl gave her a weird look. "You know, I might have been busy with something."
Rolling her eyes, Trish laughed. "We both know you weren't. Still planning on going after Saint and the Dragonslayers?"
Taylor nodded. "Eventually. I wanted to finish implanting the nanobots in everyone first and do a three day monitoring period. Kind of a just in case."
Trish grinned her trademark smile. "Well, that's why I'm here. I'm ready to be implanted."
Taylor gave her a doubtful look. "Are you sure, Trish? There's no rush. I haven't even built your armor yet."
There were times when Trish thought that as smart as Taylor was, she could still be incredibly dim. Of course, other times she felt like an idiot around the other girl, so it all balanced out. Still... "Of course, I'm ready, you knuckle-head. Anyone would be. Why, is Danny dragging his feet?"
Taylor shook her head. "Not really. But he was a bit worried about me doing it."
"See? You've already done it for yourself. Share the wealth."
Taylor gave her a faintly suspicious glance. "And you'll still be ready for the meet and greet the day after tomorrow with the DOD?"
Trish nodded. "Of course."
She gave Taylor such an expectant look that the other girl sighed and stood up. Walking over to her worktable, she picked up a small vial of something that looked like gray snot and handed it to Trish. Giving it a doubtful look, the blonde turned her power onto the mostly innocuous substance.
Flows like liquid because of the size of the individual particles. Appears viscous, particles tied together with an unknown energy field.
That was all that Trish could get, her power now shutting off once it established it could not draw any further conclusions.
"Drink up."
Trish turned to see Taylor giving her an innocent smile. Frowning, she asked, "What does it taste like?"
"Like snot." At Trish's disgusted look, the other girl burst out laughing. "Just kidding. It's tasteless. A little tingly."
Deciding not to wait any longer, Trish put the vial to her lips and poured it into her mouth and down her throat. Taylor was right about the taste, or lack thereof. It did feel strange on her tongue, Trish decided, almost as if energy was bleeding across onto, or into, her skin. She shivered, deliberately suppressing her power so as to not be deluged with information on the mutinai of effects.
She turned inquisitive eyes towards Taylor. "How long until there's any effect?" Then she felt incredibly strange, as if both light and heavy at the same time.
"About that long."
Taylor got up from her seat and walked over to press her hand to Trish's forehead, an oddly comforting gesture. Aloud, she said, "JARVIS, how's she doing?"
There was a weird hollowness to Trish's hearing as she listened to JARVIS' reply, "Well within parameters, Miss. Miss Trish, the overt physical effects should be over within about half an hour. After that, you'll start to notice an increase in your physical abilities, from your hearing and vision to your nerve conduction velocity."
Shaking her head, Trish sat heavily in the chair that had seemingly materialized behind her. Staring blearily at Taylor, she asked, "Is that why you're not wearing your glasses?"
The other girl looked smug as she replied, "Yep. My eyesight's now a little beyond human limits as far as both distance and near vision are concerned. Plus I can see somewhat into both the infrared and ultraviolet frequencies."
Trish giggled as she closed her eyes. "Are those the technical terms? A little and somewhat?"
"Wow, you're acting drunk. I didn't act drunk, did I, JARVIS?"
"No, Miss, although you did imagine you were seeing blue Smurfs all around you."
Amid more giggles, Trish overheard Taylor scolding JARVIS, "I did not! I swear, I am going to get you."
"You should keep telling yourself that, Miss."
The next few minutes seemed to take forever, but finally, the initial effects seemed to be over. Opening her eyes, Trish stared around her. Disappointed, she noted that everything looked the same. Looking over at Taylor, she stated, "Well, that was anticlimactic."
Taylor snorted. "It'll take a few days. Word to the wise, eat more than you usually do to help fuel any repairs. Also, you won't have to worry about gaining weight any longer. Or acne. Or pretty much anything that will make you less than one hundred percent healthy. They're encoded to make us completely healthy and being obese or covered with whiteheads just doesn't cut it."
Trish pondered the implications. As much as she tried to not worry about her own body image, she was a teenage girl. And her body was imperfect enough to sometimes impact even her confidence. Not to mention that any excess she ate seemed to go straight to her hips. Slowly a familiar grin formed as she said, "Screw the nerve conduction, I'm going to have chocolate mousse for lunch!"
Across from her, Taylor rolled her eyes. "Yes, because that's exactly what these are for. On an alternate note, how's the presentation for the military going?"
"Just fine. Paul and I are heading down to Ohio to meet with the big kahunas the day after tomorrow. I take it the three suits for the demonstration are ready to rock n roll?"
"Of course. They're actually powered by a sealed ARC reactor, which I set up to self-destruct if someone attempts to open it. Combined with the same power storage system I used with the first suit, and I've actually got their per unit cost down to just over half a million dollars. The targeting computer and other systems are using a version of Tony's Starktech OS, the one we just launched. And I got another seventy-five percent energy storage over-"
Trish rolled her eyes. "Taylor, I don't need the entire story. Just write out all of the stats and such and I'll look it over with my power. That way, I'll know it all without having to sit and listen to it."
The brunette gave her a narrow-eyed stare, before it dissolved in a smile. "Fine. I seriously need someone to talk with about this stuff besides JARVIS. Still, at least he doesn't mind listening to me."
"Of course not, Miss. After all, figuring out a way to increase the energy storage of your system by seventy-five percent is utterly fascinating."
Trish suppressed a grin as her two companions bickered goodnaturedly.
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
General Nathan Bradley, the ranking member of the Joint Chiefs, stood at the edge of the field, waiting impatiently. He almost hadn't come. After all, he considered this to be most likely a huge waste of time. With the cut in the Army's budget, which matched that of the rest of the armed forces in favor of the PRT and Protectorate, the remaining money needed to be used as carefully and sparingly as possible.
What it did not need to be used for was boondoggles like powered armor that made pie in the sky promises like allowing an ordinary soldier to match a Parahuman.
Oh, he supposed that the Iron Man armor he'd seen was anything but a boondoggle, but it was also Tinkertech. And everyone knew that Tinkertech could not be mass produced and maintained by ordinary men and women such as those who made up the armed forces. It would be broken and malfunctioning within a week in the hands of the same guys from the motor pool, for example, who maintained his staff car.
Still, he'd come because if there was even the smallest chance of this working, he wanted to make sure his service received first dibs. Nathan was third generation Army, having served his country for more than forty years. In his time, he'd seen the rise of Parahumans, as well as an exponential increase in dangers to the Human race. That the service he'd spent so many years as a member of wasn't able to protect his family, his country, or his species from those selfsame dangers, filled him with such a sense of rage and disgust that at times it threatened to overwhelm him.
Nathan had been searching for a solution for years and had wasted too much time and money pursuing the so-called 'miracles' of Tinkertech. Unfortunately, those miracles had fallen well short of accomplishing anything of note. Even as likely as this was to follow along those same lines, he was still going to observe it. At least this demonstration wasn't going to cost his service several billion dollars of their increasingly small budget, he thought bitterly.
It was the same reason his counterparts in the Navy, Air Force, and Marines were here as well. All of them were looking for a miracle. Unfortunately, he didn't see the motley crew in front of him with the absurdly young girl in charge accomplishing that.
The young woman he'd just met, who had briefly introduced herself as Trish Rogers, was even now overseeing the setting up of some kind of console, ostensibly in order to monitor the demonstration. Nathan glanced over at General William Renquist, head of the Air Force, and shared the faint derision in his eyes with the other. Moving a bit closer, he quietly asked, "What do you think, Bill?"
Bill shrugged, but his eyes showed that he shared most of Nathan's doubts. "As amazing as I think that Iron Man armor was, I don't see this working. To be honest, if it hadn't come out of President Walker's office, the Air Force would have boycotted this."
"Probably why SecDef isn't here. I see that you brought your best pilots."
Bill nodded. "Might as well give this the best chance of succeeding as possible, which enlisted men would not."
"Understood. I did the same." Nathan was just about to expound on this when there was an announcement from the young woman leading the demonstration.
"Attention, everyone. We're ready to proceed if the men who are going to be piloting the Iron Legionnaires would step forward."
Nathan, as well as the rest of the officers attending, all turned towards the demonstration set up. He had to admit that the suits of armor, the ones Ms Rogers referred to as Iron Legionnaires, were impressive. Standing close to seven feet tall, the suits exuded menace, each of the three's armor painted a different color of camouflage, ranging from the tans of desert warfare to the greens of the jungle, to the dark grays of night fighting.
The specs on the suits that Nathan had read were also impressive. Internal power generation of more than three gigajoules, as well as power storage of thirty-five hundred gigajoules. The large rifle the suit carried was rated at up to three gigajoules with a range of twelve hundred meters.
Even better, the armor could run at over a hundred kilometers per hour and leap approximately four hundred meters using some form of jump jets. The armor itself was some kind of super hardened alloy and with very impressive compression and expansion factors. All in all, it was a dream weapon system that was also incredibly affordable.
Which was the catch, Nathan thought derisively. No one could build a suit like this for a price like that. So there were likely hidden costs that would be tacked on later, development costs and the like. And it would likely not perform close to specs, ensuring that there was another payday for the company building it as they continued their development of the armored suit on the country's dime.
It wasn't the first time, nor would it be the last, that a company had thought to use Uncle Sam to fund their company through less than ethical means. Billions of dollars had gone that way in the past. It was incredible sad and completely human, he decided regretfully.
Nathan's thoughts were interrupted by some kind of discussion going on that was getting louder and louder. Looking over toward the suits, he immediately saw the source, Ms Rogers of HTech.
"Look, these suits are not intended for pilots who have received specialized training in flying dozens of different platforms. They can be flown by any Tom, Dick, or Harry. That's part of the point of this particular demonstration."
A man he recognized as a ranking member of the Marine Corp Commandant's staff spoke loudly, "Ms Rogers, these men have been specially selected by their commanding officers to represent their branch of the service. I'm afraid that using someone else is not an option."
He was considering going over and interjecting himself into the conversation when the short-haired brunette took the matter into her own hands. She walked over to stand in front of Nathan and announced, "If you force these men on us, I'm going to cancel the demonstration."
Considering his own doubts about the validity of the armor's effectiveness, Nathan was about to tell her to do just that. However, some niggling doubt made him hesitate. So instead of telling her to take a hike, what came out was, "I'm afraid we didn't bring any other potential test pilots."
Trish Rogers' green eyes scanned her surroundings briefly, then she announced, "You have more than half a dozen soldiers patrolling right here. Give me any three of them and I'll carry on the demonstration."
The platoon providing security? Was she serious, Nathan wondered? Then with a sense of fatalism, he gestured at the platoon's commanding officer, a very serious and more than a little nervous 2nd lieutenant.
"Lieutenant..."
The junior officer stood at attention, his black skin glistening with sweat in the humid air. "Lieutenant Charles Anderson, sir."
"Lieutenant Anderson, please detach three of your men to assist Ms Rogers here effective immediately."
"Will do, sir."
What Nathan liked was that Lieutenant Anderson didn't ask for any clarification, but immediately rattled off, "Smith, Evans, Beaufort. Front and center." Turning toward the brunette girl, he said, "Ma'am, are these men satisfactory?"
The woman (Nathan had a hard time thinking of anyone who would get in the face of a general officer as merely a girl) gave them a quick, but intense once over, and said, "They're perfect, Lieutenant. Thank you."
"You're welcome, ma'am."
Watching as the brunette led the men over to the console, then gestured for them to proceed behind a screen that had been set up, Nathan was struck by just how absurd this entire situation was. Why did her bosses at HTech want regular soldiers for this demonstration anyway? After all, the amount of training someone piloting one of these armored suits would need was going to be nothing less than astronomical. Then he just shook his head and waited.
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
"Ma'am, you want us to what?" Private First Class Jeremy Clarence Beaufort couldn't keep the sheer astonishment out of his voice as he stared at the cute brunette with the disturbing grin who had just told them to do the very last thing he would have ever expected to be asked to do surrounded by as much top brass as he and the others were.
The brunette girl rolled her eyes and repeated, "Take off your uniforms. Strip. Down to your underwear, skivvies I think you call them. Look, we have suits you need to wear before you get into the armor." She gestured towards the mostly black suits that looked like they were made of a similar neoprene-like material as a scuba diving suit.
Jeremy felt his heart begin to pound again as he contemplated the armored suits that was less than ten feet away from him, their camouflage paint making them more, rather than less, menacing. He was going to be trying to pilot that? He opened his mouth to object, but shut it at the fierce glare he received. With a muttered, "Yes, ma'am," he proceeded to comply with her order.
Fortunately, the girl turned her back, leaving Jeremy and his two companions to strip down at least somewhat in private. Then he grabbed one of the suits and quickly shimmied into it, as did Jerry and Austin, zipping up once done.
The suit fit a lot like a scuba diving suit did as well, although it was a bit less stretchy. It was also supremely comfortable and cooler than his BDU's. The suit even had little footies that covered his feet, but allowed him to feel every pebble or stick on the ground beneath him. It was really weird, Jeremy decided.
The girl turned around as soon as the three of them finished zipping up, almost as if she'd been watching them. She said, "Pick a suit and the tech next to it will show you how to get in."
Jeremy picked the darker camouflaged one, which appeared to be meant for night fighting. Standing next to it was a guy a handful of years older than him, who gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm David, I'll be your tech today."
Jeremy introduced himself, "Private Jeremy Beaufort."
"Don't worry, Jeremy. These are really easy to get in and out. Let me just open up the chest plate."
With that, Dave pressed something on the side of the armor facing away from Jeremy and the entire upper front of the armored suit swung open. A moment later, the front of the helmet swung up. Then there was a little ladder that allowed him to climb up and carefully lower himself into the interior.
Jeremy wasn't sure what he expected of something as fantastical as the armored suit he was about to get into, but it wasn't that it would be completely featureless inside. Everywhere on the inner surfaces that he could see was completely black with nothing visible. Even when he slid his legs down into the holes that were clearly intended for them, there was nothing special about it.
The material surrounding his legs slowly swelled until it was snug against his skin, as it did around his arms as well. Dave asked him a quick question, "You aren't claustrophobic by any chance are you?"
He shook his head. Small spaces didn't bother Jeremy. So even when Dave closed the helmet over his face, he didn't freak. There was a moment of when his heartbeat spiked when he was briefly in absolute blackness when the front of the suit was closed on him.
Almost immediately though, the material in front of Jeremy's face went seemingly transparent and he could once again see his surroundings. Then there was a sensation of the material around the rest of his body tightening up.
"You won't be able to move for a second, Jeremy, so just relax. The suit's adapting to your body. While it's doing so, let me go over a few things."
"First, activate your main interface and targeting by focusing on the little blue light at the top and blinking four times rapidly. Let me know when you've done that."
Jeremy did as requested, not having the slightest idea what was supposed to happen. What did happen was nothing short of amazing, as once he blinked as requested, the space in front of his face became alive with information in the form of writing and other symbols.
As his eyes moved around to read the various script, Jeremy began to marvel at what he was seeing. It was the simplest, yet most sophisticated targeting system he'd ever heard of. Just moving his eyes over an object allowed him to read details of that object, as well as target it. It took him less than thirty seconds to figure out that by blinking twice within a second at a target, it stayed locked on. Then blinking again, he could remove a target lock and move on. So involved was Jeremy in observing his surroundings, that it took a moment before he realized that Dave was speaking to him again.
"Jeremy, have you successfully activated your main interface?"
Hastily, Jeremy said, "Yes, Dave, it's active. Sorry, I was caught up."
From next to him, Dave looked amused. "I've been inside of one of these so I completely understand. They're freaking cool."
"Yeah they are."
"Okay, now, do you see those various options listed on the right side of your display? The ones starting with Part Can?"
"Yes."
"Okay, for today's demonstration, your only load out is going to be a particle cannon, which is why the others are grayed out. Don't worry, though, because you can't accidentally hurt anyone. You're weapon won't fire if your target is within ten meters of a person. Your weapon is rated at a maximum of three gigawatts of output, but you can adjust up and down that scale on the weapon itself, which is noted by the number next to the script. Currently that number is zero, but we'll change that once we hand you your weapon. Any questions so far?"
Jeremy started to shake his head, then stopped, embarrassed. Instead, he asked, "Are the numbers on that weapon for real? I mean, I don't know much, but that sounds crazy powerful."
"Jeremy, it's the equivalent of just over seven hundred kilograms of TNT per second at max power. So be extra careful. Okay, now, let's move onto the forcefield projector."
Forcefields? Jeremy's head began to whirl as he continued to take in the various information that he was being fed by the tech at his side.
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
The general stepped forward. "Ms Rogers, are you finally ready to provide your demonstration?"
Trish smiled at him, not surprised in the slightest by the way her grin seemed to make the other uneasy. "Of course, General Bradley. We're beginning right now. I'll be explaining the purpose of the various demonstrations to you and your party."
The man nodded. Trish had used her power earlier to discover the best way to get him on her side after the little SNAFU with the pilots provided and it had worked. But the man clearly still harbored a great many doubts as to what he was about to see today. Of course, that wouldn't last long, she thought with an internal grin.
She walked slowly up and down the group of senior officers carrying a laser speed gun as she began, "Gentlemen, what we are going to demonstrate first is the speed and versatility of the Iron Legionnaire armor by having the three of them compete in a foot race beginning three hundred meters away and ending at the finish line here."
Trish gestured at the brightly colored ribbons dangling from the slim rope that spanned about twenty meters a short distance in front of her. Then she raised her hand and brought it down sharply. There was a resounding CRACK in the distance as a starter's pistol was fired and the race was on.
It became immediately apparent that all three sets of armor were moving incredibly fast as they covered the distance in seconds. Then Trish was pressing the speed gun's trigger as a suit, the dark camouflaged one, arrived first at finish line. She noted with satisfaction both the speed showing on the gun's display, one hundred and twelve kilometers per hour, as well as the way many in the group behind her had flinched slightly as the rapidly moving figures thundered by.
Then, without a word, Trish handed the radar gun to General Bradley, who read the display with minimal emotion. However, to her power, he might as well have shouted his astonishment and desire to see more. After a moment, he passed it onto the next officer who continued to pass it on. Others in the crowd had also been carrying their own radar guns and there was quite a bit of oohing and awing as they looked the displays over.
Trish let the excitement die down a little, then stated, "As you can see, gentlemen, the Iron Legionnaire armor is capable of speeds in excess of one hundred kilometers per hour on the ground. However, if ground needs to be covered even faster, or there are obstacles in the way, there is another option."
Again, she raised her hand, then brought it down sharply. The three suits, which had stopped about fifty meters past their group, suddenly exploded into the air and crossed the distance back to their starting point in far less than half the time it had taken them earlier, landing with thumps that were clearly audible even from where they were all standing.
"As you can see, the Iron Legionnaire is capable of limited jumps of up to four hundred meters. The pilot is protected from the shock of take off and landing by an inertial compensation system which reduces any G's he experiences, either positive or negative, to no more than three. It also allows the armor to be dropped from the air onto a target, while being guided down by its pilot, with no minimum or maximum height ceiling."
"For our next demonstration, we'll be showing how powerful the front force shield is by firing at a suit using the main gun of an M-1 Abrams tank. That shield, while facing front for this demonstration, can rotate to cover any one hundred and twenty degrees of the suit's three hundred and sixty degree arc so as to protect it from enemies to its sides or rear.″
As Trish continued the demonstration, she knew she had them. All of the men in front of her who had arrived as doubters and disbelievers, were quickly becoming believers. By the end of this demonstration, every single one of these men would be convinced of the need for the Iron Legionnaire armored suit for their particular command or service.
It would go a long way toward equalizing the power differential between Parahumans and Humanity, and would eventually spell the end of all but the most powerful villains who preyed upon the world. Somehow, Trish withheld a grin that would have likely led the men in front of her to wonder at her sanity. Instead, she continued her speech even as she realized that once again, Iron Man... no, Taylor Hebert, had proven the worth of her technology over any others out there.
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
It was hours later and everyone had long gone home when Private First Class Jeremy Clarence Beaufort finally finished his debriefing from several of the senior analysts regarding how difficult each of the feats he had demonstrated while wearing the Iron Legionnaire armor had been been.
He didn't think most of his questioners, who had been composed of officers ranging in rank from captains all the way up to a one star general, had been completely satisfied with his answers. But he had been completely honest. After all, it had been just that easy to operate the armor he'd worn.
It had passed every test set for it with flying colors. While Jeremy had been more than a little discomforted a few times, and even terrified at one point, he couldn't argue with the results. Not even the main gun of an M-1 Abrams had been able to so much as scratch his armor's finish. Even better, he'd barely felt the impact. The best part, though, had been when he'd been cleared to return fire and had utterly destroyed the empty tank with one short blast from his particle rifle.
That is, if you could call a weapon that was four feet long and which weighed almost eighty pounds a rifle.
Aiming the thing had been child's play. All Jeremy had had to do was target the tank, then lay the rifle's cross hairs across the tank's targeting information and fire. He hadn't come close to missing, not even at over a thousand meters away. The weapon had been scarily accurate and completely without recoil while wearing the suit.
Jeremy wondered if he would still be there at the table being questioned if he hadn't risked a dressing down by finally speaking his mind. He remembered exactly what he'd said to one of his questioners, a major, who had asked him to describe, once again, exactly how the feedback had been when he'd first gotten in.
"Sir, if I may digress for one moment?"
The major frowned, but nodded. "Certainly, Private Beaufort."
"Sirs, I just wanted to say that the Iron Legionnaire suit is the finest piece of military hardware that I have ever used since I became a member of the US Army. It is so easy to use it's ridiculous. I had more difficulty learning the ins and outs of the M-16. I would also like to state, sirs, that I would like to be the first enlisted man to volunteer to become part of any force that is assigned the Iron Legionnaire armor."
There were several frowns in the room now, especially among the most senior of his questioners, but Jeremy refused to allow that to deter him. Instead, he paid attention as a colonel asked him, "Exactly why is that, Private Beaufort?"
"Because, sir, I believe that the Iron Legionnaire armor will allow the United States Army to once again become the main protection for our country, forcing our enemies into retreat. Sir, Parahumans are no longer the biggest stick, if you know what I mean."
Jeremy suppressed a grin at the memory of the astonished looks on some of the faces of the officers around him, while others had nodded in complete agreement with his analysis. Because he knew he was right. Once the US Army acquired sufficient of the Iron Legionnaire suits, they were once again going to kick ass and take names, including those of the Parahumans who stood against them.
One Private First Class Jeremy Clarence Beaufort wanted more than anything else to be on the forefront of that ass kicking and name taking.
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
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