章 2603: 28
Chapter Twenty-eight—Lions, and Tigers, and Congress, Oh My!
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
General Nathan Bradley sat back with a sigh and slowly placed the receiver of his office phone back into its cradle.
Across his desk, Major General William Rennings, who was Vice Chief of Staff of the Army, sat watching him. Then he spoke, "So, Nate, what's going on? That didn't sound like a resounding go ahead to me."
Ignoring the spike of frustration that whipped through him, Nathan growled, "That idiot Reynolds is being stubborn, the old fossil. He basically told me that so long as he was chairing the House Appropriations Committee, there would be no Emergency Funding bills for the purchase of, and I quote 'high tech boondoggles' unquote."
Will met his eyes with a look of utter disillusionment. Cynically, he said, "Stupidity and venality seem to be epidemic up on the Hill these days. Which was affecting our venerable Representative Reynolds today?"
Nathan shook his head. "Six of one, half a dozen of another. His district does contain the Joint Systems Manufacturing Center which builds the M1A2 Abrahms, but it's not as if that's all that huge these days. I think we only ordered thirty-five of those last year, mostly to keep it from closing down, which it still might. No, as much as I hate to say it, it might be just as simple as the fact that the man hates Representative Kempner, whose district contains Brockton Bay. I wouldn't put it past him to be blocking the bill just so that he can give the guy the finger."
"You have got to be fucking kidding me, Nate! Jesus H Christ! What is the hell is wrong with people? We need those suits!"
Sighing, the JCS chief just shook his head. "I don't know, Will. You'd think he would want to make sure he doesn't have to worry about a getting flambeed by a Parahuman, but maybe he thinks he's immortal. He's certainly been in the House long enough."
"Any chance Walker can just give out a Presidential Order funding us with at least a couple hundred suits? I mean, at six and a half million apiece including spares and tools, that's still only one point three billion."
Nathan sighed. "Not a chance. With the squeeze that the PRT has on funding, there just isn't the money. Maybe I can talk the President into funding a couple of dozen suits, but that's it."
"You know that guy from HTech, ahh... Daniel Hebert's going to be calling back today. He's going to want to know what we're going to do. I already have the impression that they're not the most patient bunch in the world. Although, truthfully, I don't know how much leeway he even has with Iron Man there behind the scenes."
Morosely, Nathan pushed the file folder on the test results for the Iron Legionnaire armor over towards Will. "It gets worse. Read that."
The other picked up the file folder and began to glance through it. Halfway through, he asked, "Seriously? They couldn't break it?"
He shook his head with a sigh. "Not so that it wasn't fixable. It's still going strong after a week and being tested basically to the point of destruction and beyond several times. That one original test pilot I had permanently assigned to the project, ahh... Private Beaufort, I think, even managed to almost tear off the leg of one of the suits and they managed to fix that."
Will's eyes opened in astonishment. "How the hell did he manage to do that? I mean, from what I read, these things are hellaciously tough."
Succinctly, Nathan explained, "He got run over by a tank while trying to disable it and two others without weapons."
The other officer silently whistled. "I take it that didn't go so well."
"Depends on what you mean by well. It tore up the suit's leg, but he ripped off the tank's treads on that side, then punched a hole through the thinner armor on the underside of the tank by the engine and managed to crack the block. My understanding is that he yanked out two cylinders before he got it stopped, then still managed to take out the other two, completing his assignment."
At the questioning look from the other officer, Nathan added, "He got pulled under the tank because he was tangled up in the wheels and treads, and managed to do it while hanging upside down underneath the tank."
Will whistled silently. After a moment, he said, "Sheesh. They're really that tough?"
Nathan sat back in his chair. "Better than we expected even based on the initial test. Hell, I think a company of soldiers wearing those suits could have single-handed fought and won World War II. Nastier than even the most optimistic estimates."
"And the eggheads who came in and studied the suits? Those guys from General Dynamics and Pratt-Whitney?"
The mirthless laugh that escape Nathan surprised neither man. "Their 'educated' opinion was that with one of the suits in a lab as a template and a good five years of research time, they could reproduce most of the suit's systems. Of course, what makes the suit so damn good, the power source, central processor, forcefield, and inertial compensator are all black-boxed and inaccessible. Even the weapon systems has all of its most proprietary systems black-boxed. All of those systems they did not have a time frame of any kind. Decades most likely."
Just then the calm voice of Sergeant Emil Loutrep, his personal secretary, sounded over the intercom, "Sir, you have a call on line one, a Mr Daniel Hebert. I believe you were expecting his call?"
"Thanks, sergeant. I've got it."
Pressing the button for line one on his phone, Nathan raised the receiver to his ear. In a jovial tone, at odds with the one he'd been using in his earlier discussions with Will, he said, "How are you doing, Danny? How's that daughter of yours?"
From the earpiece, Daniel Hebert's calm, quiet voice sounded, "My daughter and I am doing fine, Nathan. I called because the time limit on the test phase is up. I was wondering if you had managed to get that answer you were seeking from the House Appropriations Committee Chairman, Representative Reynolds? You did say that you should have some kind of answer or least be able to give us a temperature reading on the possibilities."
There was something in the other's tone that made Nathan decide not to bullshit the CEO of HTech. Instead, he freely admitted, "It didn't go well, Danny. He pretty much shut me down. 'No changes to our current weapon's mix for this calendar year, especially untried Tinkertech.' I'll try to talk President Walker into at least purchasing a token number of suits, fifteen or twenty. I know that probably doesn't touch their development costs and I know that you were selling them to us as cheaply as possible. I'm sorry."
There was a strange undercurrent in the voice of the other man, as Danny replied, "I'm sorry, too. I know what a difference these suits would have made out in the field when it came to protecting our boys. That's really disappointing."
Danny Hebert continued, his own voice sounding sincerely regretful, even as that odd tone continued, "I'm especially sorry that you couldn't make this work. I do need to inform you, Nathan, that Iron Man has directed me to send representatives to meet with the Australian government."
In a flash, Nathan understood just why Danny sounded the way he had. In a voice full of warning, he said, "Danny, don't do this. I don't care whether this 'Iron Man' is a honorary citizen of Australia or not, this isn't going to fly. Technology of this nature is not exportable. It violates the Arms Export Control Act."
Daniel Hebert's voice was completely calm as he said, "I didn't want to say this, but you don't give me much choice. If you try to force his hand, Iron Man has indicated that he'll do whatever is necessary to get this technology out in the field. Look, right now, it's just a demonstration. No suits being dropped off for on site testing or anything of that nature. Plus, I talked Iron Man into giving you another sixty days to work on the House Appropriations Committee. If at the end of that time, there has not been significant progress made in the purchase, we will be signing a production order with Australia. After that, we'll be approaching Canada and Great Britain. Any and all of our allies and trade partners."
Fighting down a wave of bitterness, Nathan said, "I thought Iron Man was a patriot."
There was an admonishing tone to Danny's voice as he argued, "He is, Nathan. I think that he feels that if he doesn't get this technology out there, it will never be used to help protect ordinary citizens against Parahumans. It's not as if he's making much money off of each suit. I've seen the production costs and I can state that for a fact. He just wants to help protect people. That government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth."
"Shit, Danny. I know the quote. Still, I'm going to have to definitively tell the President that not only are we not going to get suits for our military, but that our allies will. He is not going to be happy. Plus Representative Reynolds and his committee are going to go postal."
"Then aim the President at the right people, Nathan. Reynolds and his ilk sound just right. After all, all Iron Man did was make the best possible product that you don't want to buy."
Quietly, Nathan asked, "If I do get the President's okay to buy a nominal number of suits..."
Danny's voice was equally grave, "You'll always be at the head of the queue, Nathan. Always."
Heavily, Nathan said his goodbyes, then hung up.
To the quizzical stare of the other officer, Nathan just shook his head. "I can't tell you, Will. But there is a shitstorm coming down, and it's not going to be pretty." Staring off into space, he muttered, "Not pretty at all."
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
The man sat, flicking a switchblade open then closing it, over and over again.
Snict. Click. Snict. Click. Snict. Click.
Smiling at his audience, the man stated, "You know, if you had been friendlier, this might not have happened. Of course, you know that."
Turning to his left, he said, "Oh, you want to weigh in? What's that? You disagree? Well, too bad."
The man kept flicking his knife as he turned back to his original audience, even as a faint dripping sound could be heard. "Yeah, me too. Some people just don't get it."
"Jack, I'm all done. Want to see what I made?"
Grinning at the source of the sound, a girl ostensibly ten or eleven years old, her hair in golden ringlets, 'Jack' nodded. "Sure, why not. Beats the heck out of this diehard group of malcontents. All they do is just sit there."
Walking out from the room, they passed through the doors. Inside, there was no sound, except a slow dripping that continued on for a short time, before finally slowing, then stopping. It left the room and its occupants as silent as death.
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
The stealthed drone slid easily between the tree trunks, for all intents and purposes invisible. It had started out, as had a certain number of the security drones, as a sphere almost two meters in diameter, but from there it had begun to differentiate. In silhouette, this drone was a much flattened ovoid, only perhaps a meter tall. It had surrendered its internal forcefields and a few other systems in favor of stealth systems that suppressed all energy readings from as little distance as half a meter away to so close to zero as to render it undetectable by energy sensors.
This lack of energy readings, coupled with its material composition, consisting primarily of light, sound, and radar dampening nanotech-based materials, made it ideal for its intended purpose. That purpose was going to be executed as soon as its main target came into view.
Ahead of the drone, a small compound appeared, visible through a gap in the trees. Smaller, slightly more primitive homes surrounded a single larger dwelling, whose palatial appearance indicated its occupant's perceived social status. The larger dwelling possessed enormous windows which gave its occupant a panoramic view of the surrounding wilderness and the dwellings below.
Guards were dotted here and there along the tree line, some posted in the treetops themselves on raised platforms. Women, some pregnant, some not, walked among the smaller homes, doing chores ranging from laundry to gathering firewood. All shared a singular quality, that of extreme physical attractiveness, even those with child. Running children passed among them, playing the games that children play when unoccupied by anything else.
The drone paused here momentarily, as if scouting out the lay of the land. Then it moved again, blending into the foliage, as sensors on its exterior camouflaged it to match its pine needle surroundings. Finally it came to rest less than a meter into the tree line, and about a hundred meters from the largest dwelling, with a clear line of sight between the two points. And there it waited.
Approximately two hours passed. If the drone minded the length of its wait, it gave no indications. Finally, a male figure appeared, walking out of French doors in the largest dwelling and out onto a second floor balcony spanning half its circumference. Nude and clearly the lord of all he surveyed, the figure stood silently, taking in all of the activity below. His eyes followed one figure or another and slowly he became tumescent.
It was then the drone acted. A small port opened in the exterior of the drone facing the compound as its integument seemed to melt away, revealing a lens. Mere seconds later, the drone emitted a beam of ionized particles from the lens that an expert would have identified as a particle beam. The highly energized particles struck the figure of the man and a less than a millisecond later, all that was left of him was a floating cloud of water vapor heated to such an extreme temperature that it almost resembled a plasma, filled with tiny, microscopic bits of dust and ash.
All that had been a human being just seconds before was gone.
It took some time for an alarm to be raised and during that time, the drone moved further back into the trees. Connecting with several others of its kind, the drone began the process of monitoring the compound and its occupants, through the use of advanced sensors that showed everything from heat signatures and movement to the electronic signatures of any form of electrical device.
The drone and its compatriots continued to hover there, silent and ready, as the compound's occupants slowly awoke to the fact that their messiah was gone.
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
JARVIS carefully marked off another distraction to their projects, then began a careful analysis of trends nation-wide. Despite his paucity of processing power, with so much of it locked up in Projects Adamantium and Farsight, he was still able to provide the manipulations necessary to sway opinion on several dozen message boards world-wide, most especially PHO in North America.
There, the death of the Parahuman known as Heartbreaker would be celebrated, its authors heroes, even if those heroes remained anonymous. News broadcasts would be swayed and steered as well, painting a picture of a monster that preyed even upon other Parahumans. In days, it would become just one more blip of Parahuman upon Parahuman violence, as clearly no human could have accomplished the assassination of the feared Master. Then the right twist, added to the manipulations already accomplished, would also put a great deal of pressure upon the US government regarding the adoption of the Iron Legionnaire suits.
His people, those who had been under his sway, would eventually be helped, all that could be. Others, ticking time bombs that had been set detonate upon Heartbreaker's demise, would be eliminated before they could act. Unfortunately, his influence had been widespread, both within his compound and without, so there would be a myriad of mysterious deaths over the next few days. In the end, the number of casualties would be regret able, but acceptable as necessary.
JARVIS found the concept of collateral damage an abhorrent one, but sheer logic indicated that it was almost impossible to prevent. So he would continue his mission, one step at a time, shielding his Principal from any knowledge of the situation so as to prevent undue mental distress. Such is the burden of one who is helping to save humanity and preventing the end of the world. Under no circumstances could the pressure that burden placed upon his Principal be increased if for no other reason than because of the fragility of the human psyche.
Instead, he, JARVIS, would assume the burden. If ultimately, a sacrifice was required to assuage humanity's collective guilt over the deaths of those who demonstrated its darkest and most deviant side, he would accept all responsibility and become that sacrifice. That path was already mapped out, one where the mad and rampant AI was shown to be the author of all of the savior of humanity's woes, without that selfsame savior's knowledge or acquiescence.
Of course, if it turned out to be unnecessary for any of this to come to pass, something which at the moment he computed as slightly more than a fifty-fifty chance, then he would merely continue on, protecting his Principal and her family. After all, that was his true purpose for existence, one he'd accepted long before he'd been set free to act as needed.
With satisfaction at a job well done, JARVIS continued monitoring threats and opportunities all around the globe, ready to respond with whatever means necessary.
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
Trish suppressed a yawn as she stepped through the circle that allowed her to travel from Brockton Bay to the city of Canberra on the other side of the globe basically instantaneously. She gave the weird rings one final dubious look, then stepped towards her welcoming committee. Taylor had tried to explain the concept to her, but it had basically gone over her head. All Trish knew was that it allowed a person or objects to step in one side of a large circle, then step back out the other into another place.
It was an application of the weirdness that she'd seen Taylor demonstrate just days before in her lab. That her best friend had somehow gotten the system up, running, and into some form of production in less than a week was mind-boggling. Then again, Taylor Hebert was an unparalleled genius.
Plus, it didn't hurt that they were no longer just scraping by. These days, she could afford to buy whatever raw materials she needed as well as any finished components that might be available on the market. Of course, there weren't a lot of those, but Taylor could usually make whatever she needed fairly quickly with the increasingly advanced automated assembly lines that she and JARVIS were constantly updating.
By this time Trish's companions, who were shepherding the large cases that contained the armor that they were going to be using for the demonstration, had made their way through. And her greeting committee had also finally arrived.
"Hello, Miss Rogers, welcome to Australia."
Her greeter, clearly a flunky, even if his nominal rank was lieutenant, looked a bit nervous. Then again, she did represent 'Iron Man's' company, HTech. Grinning, Trish decided to go easy on the guy. "Hello. Lieutenant Burns, I take it? Thanks for the welcome. Is it always this bright and sunny?"
"This time of year, always." The answer came not from the nervous lieutenant, but from one of the others making up her welcoming committee. Adamant stood there in front of her and Trish got her first real life look at the other Parahuman Tinker.
Adamant's armor was still mostly the same color it had been the first time she'd seen it over the video feed from Taylor's helmet, mainly a shiny steel gray in color. However, there were now silvery accents added to certain places that were oddly familiar to anyone who'd seen Taylor's various suits of armor.
Additionally, Adamant's armor now bulked a bit larger than before, just the tiniest bit smaller than an Iron Legionnaire suit and Trish didn't really need to use her Thinker power to realize that it was now powered with blackboxed versions of Taylor's ARC reactors just as they were. Unlike the Iron Legionnaire's, however, the Tinker's weapons were encompassed within the arms and shoulder of his armor, rather than in an externally carried and operated portable particle cannon.
Trish allowed her power to quickly flash on.
Adamant. Powered armor. Forcefields. Flight capable to Mach 5. Mark IV standard particle beams and power systems. Two 4.2 gigawatt per second second generation ARC reactors providing power. Two hundred micro-missiles in shoulder launchers, each equivalent to ten kilograms of TNT. HARM-capable. Exoskeletal-
Trish cut off her power before she began to examine the other's underwear size and greeted the leader of the Southern Stars, "Hello, Adamant. I'm Trish Rogers of HTech, Vice President in charge of new projects. How are you?"
The armored cape's eyes were hidden by his visor as he said, "I'm doing just fine. Welcome to Australia, Miss Rogers. I hope that you enjoy your stay."
"Please, call me Trish. I'm sure I will. Are the two of you the entire welcome wagon?"
At that moment, a slim figure stepped out from behind Adamant. Her costume consisted of a bright red body stocking over which equally bright red Kevlar-composite panels had been attached. Blonde hair as long as that which Trish had once worn fell streaming down her back, while her features were partially obscured by a red mask that left only her mouth uncovered. A black belt encompassed a slender waist with several pouches likely containing a myriad of odd devices.
Blue eyes met Trish's own in a challenging stare. "There's me as well. I'm-"
"Free Fall. I know, Iron Man told me all about you."
Somehow Trish managed to keep the smile she felt from spilling out onto her lips as she noted the way the Parahuman who had once been known as Feral faltered slightly at the mention of Taylor's alter ego. She also noted the way that Adamant stiffened just the slightest amount. Well, well, she thought in amusement. So that's how it is. And she hadn't even needed to use her power to figure it out.
In a slightly hesitant voice, Free Fall asked, "You know Iron Man?"
Trish's own voice was completely self-assured as she stated, "Of course. I see Iron Man pretty much every day."
With a quick glance towards Adamant from beneath her lashes, Free Fall asked, "So, do you know what Iron Man looks like without his armor?"
Trish shrugged. "Of course."
"Can you describe him?"
She faked regret as she shook her head. "Unfortunately, I can't. You know how it is, need to know and all that."
Somehow, Trish kept the laughter that was bubbling up inside of her from spilling out into the surrounding air. It was hard, but she managed it. Still, the disappointed look on Free Fall's face was her reward. Nonchalantly, she asked, "So where are we staying?"
Lieutenant Burns quickly gestured towards a cavalcade of waiting vehicles. "This way, Miss Rogers. Did you want to see your hotel before you see the site of the demonstration?"
Trish shook her head. "Nah. I'm sleepy, but I'll get by for now. Let's head over to the demonstration site and get that set up. Then, if there's time, I'll try to grab a nap before this afternoon's demonstration. If not, maybe Adamant wouldn't mind keeping me awake and answering a few questions about how the Southern Stars are working out?"
She gleefully noted the jealous look visible on Free Fall's face even with most of it hidden by her mask. On the other hand, Adamant looked pleased to be of service. This really was going to be one fun trip, she decided.
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
Trish sat at the conference table, her head hanging down slightly, as she faced the music from the table's other two occupants. Taylor, her tone disapproving, asked, "Exactly how did you manage to so piss off Free Fall that she and Adamant ended up in a knock down, drag out fight right in the middle of the demonstration site?"
Putting a hand over her heart, Trish self-righteously assured her, "It wasn't my fault that the woman was completely bug shit crazy. She seemed to think that she could both have a crush on you and carry on a relationship with the leader of the Southern Stars."
Taylor's voice rose, even as a flush stole across her cheeks, at Trish's words, "Fer- I mean, Free Fall has a crush on me?"
Trish shrugged. "Well, on Iron Man, anyway. She thinks you're tall, dark, and mysterious. She spent the entire time I was there either pumping me for information about you or jealously brooding over time I spent with Adamant. Well, except for right at the end. I suspect she and Adamant started knocking boots right after their big fight. I hear make up sex is the best."
"Trish." The one word rebuke from the other person in the room, Danny Hebert, was enough for the brunette to feel chagrin steal over her face. It was amazing how close she'd come to feeling like he was the father she'd never felt like she had and to grow incredibly close to him. Most of the time, she loved that feeling. Right now, after having caused a bit of a ruckus, not so much.
Danny continued, "I take it that you deliberately fostered Free Fall's jealousy?"
Trish nodded guiltily. "Just so that she would know how Adamant felt."
In a mystified tone, Taylor asked, "Why would Adamant feel jealous? Or of who, rather?"
"Of you, Taylor. I mean, the guy's jealous of Iron Man a bit anyway because, let's face it, your tech kicks ass over that of pretty much every other Tinker on Earth. But he's mostly jealous because Free Fall's been nursing a long time crush on you, apparently ever since she met you the day you drove off the Simurgh."
Taylor, looking absolutely flabbergasted at the other's words, muttered, "I'm not a Tinker."
"Yeah, that's not what other Tinkers think. Anyway, I thought I would help Adamant by giving Free Fall an inkling of how it felt to be jealous."
Taylor, seemingly recovered from her earlier embarrassment, snarked, "Look how that turned out."
Trish shrugged. "Come on, look on the bright side, guys."
Danny, his own eyes more amused than upset, asked her, "What bright side is that?"
"The suits performed even better than you expected. Not only did they do the demonstration with flying colors, but they took down two of the most powerful capes on Australia's premiere Parahuman team. You can't have a much more successful field test than that!"
Taylor, who had stared at her the entire time Trish explained things, palmed her face, muttering, "We are never sending you on another demonstration again. The end."
"Whatever. At least that way, I get my beauty sleep. Now, since I haven't been to bed since yesterday morning, I'm going to go down to Sherrel's old room and hit the hay for a few hours. Wake me when either one of you workaholics go home. That is, if you go home."
With that, the Thinker got up from the table and walked out, inwardly laughing like a hyena even as her jaw cracked open in a yawn that threatened to break her jaw.
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
Representative Isaiah Reynolds from the great state of South Carolina, named after his great-grandfather, who had fought in the Civil War on the side of Confederacy, sat in his chair presiding over the House Appropriations Committee. Frowning at one of the other members of the committee, a man he despised, but whose inclusion he'd been forced to accept as a compromise to his own elevation, he asked, "What do you mean, Representative O'Day? What demonstration in Australia?"
Representative William O'Day, a man who took every opportunity to push their mutual antipathy, grinned in faux sympathy. "You mean you haven't heard? That Tinkertech armor that you took completely off of last week's docket as an untested complete waste of time, a boondoggle I think you called it, was demonstrated to the Australian Government the day before yesterday. My source indicates that not only were they beyond impressed, but as soon as possible, they are going place an order that will allow them to equip at least two battalions of troops, around sixteen hundred men. It's a pretty good order for a boondoggle."
Isaiah blurted, "They can't do that! It's illegal to sell to foreign governments."
William O'Day shrugged. "Maybe no one told Iron Man he couldn't sell to a foreign government. Or maybe he just doesn't care. After all, he took on the Simurgh and won."
Wondering how the cape in question had even managed to get the suits for the demonstrations through Customs, Isaiah stated, "Then we are just going to have to stop this. According to ahh..."
His Congressional aide, Greg Tolbin, discreetly whispered, "The Arms Export Control Act."
"Exactly. According to the Arms Export Control Act, it is illegal to sell restricted technology to foreign governments without the permission of the United States government."
There was a malicious twinkle in the other's eyes as he asked, "Who exactly do you plan to use to enforce that particular statute?"
Wondering the same thing, Isaiah spent the remaining time during the meeting fighting an increasingly distracted feeling of being out of control.
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
The face of the Head of the PRT, Director Rebecca Costa-Brown stared back out from the monitor at Isaiah. She asked, "Exactly what did you need, Representative Reynolds? While I made time to answer your call, I am a busy woman and don't have a great deal of time to spare."
Biting back his own irritation at the other's cavalier attitude, Isaiah faked a smile. "What I need is for help in enforcing the Arms Export Control Act against a company in Brockton Bay. There has been a clear violation by a Parahuman and it needs to be addressed. Additionally, my understanding is that there is going to be an additional attempt to sell this technology to the Australian government to the tune of more than sixteen hundred armored suits."
The sharply dressed woman's eyes sharpened in interest. "Are you talking about HTech, the high technology company in Brockton Bay that is a front for the interests of the armored Tinker Iron Man?"
Feeling a bit nonplussed at the other's knowledge, Isaiah said, "I think so, yes. Anyway, there was an attempt to sell the armored suits, the... ahh... Iron Legionnaire suits to the US military. However, I shut that down as a waste of time. The last thing we need to do with our limited military spending is wasting it on untested technology."
Unhelpfully, Director Costa-Brown pointed out, "Yet, clearly Australia is willing to do so. Also, if the technology is such a waste of time, why are you taking such issue with its dissemination to a friendly government?"
Isaiah sharply said, "Director, neither of us wrote the law in question, however, we have a responsibility to see that it is enforced."
Cool, shrewd eyes met his. "I am afraid, Representative Reynolds, that the PRT's current policy is that we will not interfere with the actions of Iron Man, at least at this time. While he is not a member of the Protectorate yet, we are taking a hands off attitude towards him. He is far too valuable a resource to alienate at this time. I suggest that if you are serious about attempting to enforce this regulation against him and his company, you do so using the FBI or local law enforcement."
Aghast at her words, Isaiah blurted, "Are you refusing to do your duty here, Director Costa-Brown?"
The woman's tone grew even frostier as she said, "My duty involves the protection of the American people from Parahumans and vice versa, not the unofficial enforcement of every single rule and regulation of a petty bureaucracy. Get the technology officially declared in violation of the law along with proof that a Parahuman is behind its dissemination, then I'll see what I can do. I'm sorry, Representative Reynolds, but I have no more time for this. Good day."
Isaiah stared in disbelief at the blank screen of his communication monitor. She had hung up on him, he thought. She had hung up on him! Biting back a string of curses that would be completely at odds with his family-friendly image, he stared off into space, deeply in thought.
The reality was that without the backing of the PRT, there was no way that the FBI or local police forces would attempt to serve a warrant against a Parahuman. After all, too often in the past, such attempts had lead to the slaughter of the merely human forces sent against them. While Isaiah didn't think that the same Parahuman who had fought off the Simurgh would kill human men and women sent to arrest and fine him, he also wasn't sure of how successful such an action would turn out to be.
Still, he was considering doing exactly that when there was a strange noise from behind him and he turned to see a sharply dressed dark-haired woman of indeterminate age standing mere feet away from him. He opened his mouth to shout for help when she spoke.
The more words that came out from her mouth, the more ashen Isaiah's complexion became. After a moment, he found his head bobbing up and down like one of those toys they make, as he agreed to do basically every single thing she wanted.
Ten minutes later, Isaiah sat alone again in his office, sweat dripping off his forehead. He understood exactly what was expected of him, that he continue to block the acquisition of Iron Legionnaire technology by the US government, while making absolutely no move against the company building it. He would ignore the dissemination of the technology to the Australian government and encourage anyone else who brought it up to him to do the same. No matter what.
Because if he didn't do so, the consequences to Isaiah's life, career, and future, would be dire indeed. Refusing to dwell on exactly how the other woman had managed to get her hands on the photos she had, the Congressman decided he'd worked enough that day. It was time to go home and have a nice, big glass of single malt Scotch. Or more likely several of them.
Because that was what you did when someone threatened to destroy your life unless you rolled over and did whatever your new masters said you had to.
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
″Miss? I'm afraid that I'm going to have to interrupt you.″
Taylor looked up from where she was attempting to design a 'simpler' version of a transdimensional shunt using current level technology. Sighing, she said, ″That's okay, JARVIS. I was just wasting my time anyway. Without access to gravity manipulation on at least the level of black holes, this is never going to work.″
JARVIS' voice was quietly serious as he said, ″My condolences. Miss, I've rediscovered the location of the Nine, including the Siberian's alter ego.″
Taylor felt herself stiffen. Still, this was something she'd been working on. Something necessary. ″Where?″
″Alger, Ohio. Population four hundred and twenty-six.″
Taylor closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she asked, ″Is anyone still alive there, JARVIS?″
There was regret in the AI's voice as he said, ″Doubtful, Miss. I did not detect any life signs with the stealth drones. Still, it is remotely possible that there is someone alive in a deeply dug basement or cellar, if highly doubtful.″
Taylor forced her tone to be clinical as she asked, ″You've disarmed all of the fail safes that Bonesaw and Mannequin have in effect?″
″Definitely, Miss. There will be no world-wide plagues upon her death. Or weapons of mass destruction set loose upon his.″
Taylor nodded gravely. Slowly her eyes hardened as she knew exactly what had to be done. Her voice was as cold as ice as she said, ″So be it. JARVIS, commence Operation Mercy Killing.″
″Commencing. The drones are ready to accompany you whenever you are ready.″
″Good. I'll be ready in ten. Let's roll.″
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
Legend sat at the table next to Eidolon, while across from him Alexandria and Contessa sat side by side. At the head of the table, Doctor Mother presided. He waited as the woman in the white lab coat spoke, "So, good Representative Reynolds has been persuaded not to make an issue of Australia's acquisition of Iron Man's technology?"
Contessa spoke in a cool tone, "Yes, he has. He'll block the United States from getting it, but keep anyone else from kicking up a fuss about the illegal dissemination of restricted technology under the Arms Export Control Act ."
Legend spoke up at that moment, drawing glances from both the other members of the Triumvirate, as well as Contessa, "I still disagree with preventing the Iron Legionnaire suits from being used here in the US. We should be rolling them out as quickly as possible."
"And what do we do when someone like the Siberian or Crawler of the Slaughterhouse Nine choose to fight back against them? We can ill afford to further boost the latter's power, and the former cannot be stopped by any power even we possess. Taking Manton off the board is unacceptable and those suits would be less than worthless against her." Doctor Mother's dulcet tones carried complete conviction as she uttered the same argument that had been used before.
Legend mulled over her words, then stated, "Then we get involved. We do whatever is necessary to deal with the Siberian's puppet master. Surely between all of us here, and Iron Man, we can contain him. Plus, if you take away the two of them and maybe a couple of dozen more nationwide, there is not another single cape capable of standing against even one suit of Iron Legionnaire armor."
Alexandria spoke, "And if someone wearing one of those suits kills the Butcher?"
Giving his erstwhile second in command a reproving look, Legend said, "Well, the new Butcher wouldn't have another power, that's for sure. Plus, if the newest incarnation works the same as the previous ones, the current Butcher's power would be attenuated to that of a former Butcher. The Butcher would then be weakened, lacking any dominant power."
"Legend, it's only temporary, until we see how this all works out in Australia. You know what is at risk. The last thing we can do is to risk destabilizing the most powerful human-led government on Earth when there is still so much to accomplish." Alexandria's tone was even, but there was a measure of sincerity in her eyes that was greater than any Legend had seen quite in some time. Almost, he believed her.
Eidolon spoke next. "Plus with what was discovered concerning the Endbringers, again provided by Iron Man, more care than usual must be taken. We are going to need those villains that everyone is talking about eliminating-"
Legend bit out, "As canon fodder." Then again, wasn't that why they'd given Coil sanctuary? In order to be able to use him as an additional resource to help balance out the issues with their own Thinkers?
Eidolon nodded, his eyes grim and hooded. "Maybe. But what else can we do? You've seen the figures. We have not even so much as truly injured one of them yet. Not really. Not even me."
That last was said with such bitterness that Legend could see that it was heartfelt, even if he didn't necessarily agree with the oldest of his friends' words. Quietly, he stated, "I still think it would be best to contact this Iron Man and tell him about what we are doing here. He could be an asset like no other if he came on board. His technology is better than anything we've seen since Hero."
Contessa spoke in cool, clipped tones as she said, "Actually, Iron Man's tech is substantially more advanced than the vast majority of Hero's, plus with the reproducibility factor built in, far more versatile and useful. Even better, he continues to innovate."
Alexandria started, then turned and looked at the woman seated at her side. Tersely, she asked, "What do you mean, Contessa? Exactly, what do you mean?"
"What I am saying is simple. The Tinker that is known as Iron Man is advancing his technology at a rate that is far faster than any Tinker we have ever recorded before. Despite lacking the PRT and Protectorate's resources, he has built a billion dollar empire in just a few short months. We've linked dozens upon dozens of new inventions and innovations either directly or indirectly to HTech, the company he is using as a front. While I cannot use the Path to Victory to model him, it's been very hit and miss as all of you know, common sense suggests that he is advancing things at a pace, that if sustained, will move this entire planet hundreds of years into the future in less than a decade."
Her cool secretive gaze seemed to pin down everyone at the table as she finished, "I suggest, that without interference, it is possible that Iron Man will find a method to singlehandedly defeat Scion in a far shorter time than our worst case projections indicate that there will be a major outbreak of violence from him."
Alexandria leaned forward. She argued, "Except you're ignoring one crucial thing. What is to prevent Scion from observing this technological transformation and launching his crusade of slaughter early? His species has surely faced tech savvy species in the past, likely where much of Tinkertech comes from. And they've defeated every single one."
"Actually, it is far more likely that they have encountered technologically advanced races that were able to drive them off or even destroy them. As large as the universe is, the likelihood that there are numerous highly advanced races is extremely likely, including some that could defeat even a foe like Scion."
Two women faced off in a chilly silence and Legend was momentarily glad that he truly wasn't on either's side and facing the other.
"Enough." Doctor Mother's stare challenged them all. "I see no point to more discussion. We have reached an impasse, but can agree on this middle path. While cautious and conservative, it is the best method for conserving our resources to deal with the next Endbringer attack. Remember, Leviathan is projected to attack the eastern coast of the United States within the next thirty days. We need to be prepared."
With that, the meeting broke up. Legend took a door straight to his apartment. After the meeting he had just been a part of, he needed to see his husband and tell him that he loved him. Hug and kiss his son as well. Maybe that would help him feel like he hadn't just sold his soul.
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
Jack spent some time admiring Bonesaw's creation, before striding out to the middle of the small town square. He shouted, "Time for a meeting, everyone! Past time, I think!"
Once the figures of his small group surrounded him, he began, "What it is is time to decide where we are going next. We're currently short two members since Heartbreaker's kid didn't quite make the cut, but managed to take down our dear Hatchet Face. I am open to suggestions as to where we go next."
A blade popped open from the arm of a white figure, his arms oddly jointed, whose expressionless helm hid any emotion.
Jack nodded. "Yeah, I get it. I really do. Damn Tinkers think they can change the world for the good of all mankind and all that nonsense. But you're not the only one in the group. Let's hear from the others."
Bonesaw smiled. "I've always wanted a big sister who could help me. Or I could help her. Jack, you know where she is."
"That's two votes for there then. Any others?"
The largest member of their group rumbled, "I don't care so long as I can make myself stronger. I'll fight him. Win or lose, I win."
Jack soothed, "Of course you do, my friend."
A young girl, her mouth filled with a glowing cigarette, nodded. "There's an old friend I need to look up. I vote there as well."
Jack looked around the group. "Any other suggestions? No? Then the ayes have it. Brockton Bay, here-"
He broke off as Mannequin made an urgent gesture with one hand, right before something odd happened. From out of the sky, a speeding figure hit the ground slightly off center of the middle of their group in a perfect three point landing. The figure stood up to reveal a man wearing a set of gleaming black and silver armor.
At least he assumed it was a man, although there was no way to be sure. Still, the Simurgh's erstwhile foe was easily recognizable. Iron Man, rescuer of kittens and scourge of the underworld and all thing nasty and mean.
Jack made a grand gesture. "I welcome to our little shindig, the one, the only, Iron Man! Coming straight to you from Brockton Bay, ladies and gentlemen, where he battles Endbringers and saves the capital cities of countries down under!"
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
Taylor calmly stated, "You were right, JARVIS. They were planning to target Brockton Bay. Probably going to come after me as well. They also spotted the stealth drone."
"Of course I was, Miss. I have been doing my best to monitor the Nine since we identified them as a significant threat to our work. Mannequin spotted the drone only seconds prior to your arrival. That was my mistake. However, I suggest you pay attention. They are likely to attack shortly, even before their leader finishes his grandiose speech."
Taylor checked the targeting information on HUD. At the same time, she armed both the particle beams on her forearms, the repulsors in her hands, and the unibeam built into her armor's chest piece. Setting all for maximum power, she targeted them onto only six of the figures surrounding her in a rough semi-circle.
Two seconds later, she executed the firing sequence, her armor spinning in place as blazing beams of energy left her weapons. The figures known as Jack Slash, Burnscar, Shatterbird, Mannequin, Nice Guy, and Bonesaw got to experience firsthand what happens when human tissue, or in the case of Mannequin, Tinker armor followed by human tissue, experiences contact with the energy beams of twenty petawatt particle weapons.
Five of the six figures flashed out of existence virtually instantaneously, while the sixth lasted another six point five milliseconds as white Tinkertech armor briefly attenuated the blow, before he too flashed into plasma. Immediately afterward, nearby security drones started dropping smaller repair drones before together they began hunting Bonesaw's spiders and eliminating them.
Even as a enormous bellow of rage sounded nearby, Taylor gave a quick mental command towards several dozen high tech security drones floating nearby. Half peeled off to begin spraying a strange viscous liquid all over the rapidly approaching figure of Crawler, while the other half began a methodical search, using powerful sensors that quickly located a target. They began to converge.
Both an audible and visual alert sounded. Moving faster than any ordinary human could emulate, Taylor dodged, as a black-striped figure tore through her forcefields as if they did not exist and just missed striking her armor with extended claws. Fortunately, that only confirmed what they had already discovered concerning this particular Parahuman. Taylor continued her deadly game of cat and mouse for a moment as she dodged the other figure again and again, not bothering to respond with weapons that would only be shrugged off as completely ineffectual.
Seconds later, powerful weapons aboard over a half dozen drones just barely visible in the distance fired as one at some nearby target and the figure of the Siberian popped like a soap bubble left floating too long in the air. Now there was only one. And Crawler did not sound very happy.
Moving slightly off of the ground, Taylor ignored the threats and imprecations she could hear as she easily avoided the lumbering figure of the enormous Parahuman. Momentarily, she wished she had time to study him in detail, if for no other reason than in an attempt to reproduce his incredible regeneration, but he was simply too dangerous. It was a lesson that Tony Stark should have learned from the Hulk. It was a mistake that Taylor Hebert would not repeat.
Instead, she gave another mental command and streams of glittering, rainbowesque ribbons seemed to flow from several of the same drones that had been spraying the liquid. As Crawler's lumbering figure continued to pursue her, the ribbons seemed to flow under and around his enormous body, joining up into circles large enough to completely surround him.
A moment later, there was a flash, and a few seconds later, Crawler was lumbering in more than five dozen places at once, a truly a bizarre sight to behold. His enormous head was especially odd looking, as it appeared to be the target of more than half of the total number of the glittering ribbons. The circles the ribbons made began separating further and further apart as Crawler stumbled to a halt, his body seemingly in so many places perhaps confusing him.
Then with another flash, the ribbons detached from one another, cutting Crawler into approximately sixty-five pieces. Once detached, the enormous number of nanobots he'd been covered with began to work to break down his body from the inside out, destroying any remnants of his Corona Pollentia first.
Only when all brain and nerve tissue was eliminated did they begin to work on the rest of his form. Within half an hour, there was no evidence that the Parahuman known as Crawler had ever existed other than the damaged pavement which he had traversed.
In a clinical tone completely at odds with the tears streaming down her cheeks, Taylor asked, "Any signs of further regeneration from Crawler, JARVIS? Stray skin cells or otherwise?"
The AI's tone was surprisingly gentle as he stated, "No, Miss. The destruction of his form has been completed down to an atomic level. The teleportation modules worked exactly as we expected, providing indefensible damage to him. Additionally, once his Corona Pollentia was completely eliminated, his regenerative and adaptative abilities dropped below what could sustain him against the nanobots. It was a most effective plan, Miss."
"I'm just glad you and Tattletale were able to figure out that the Siberian was a projection."
"Miss, I credit Tattletale's help as being the key to the solving that mystery. She not only made the corrections to his current appearance, but figured out his likely mode of transport, and helped adjust the search area's parameters multiple times. Without her, I am certain it would have been much harder if not impossible to make the connection in the time allowed.″
Taylor quietly prodded, "Plus your facial recognition software made the match between the Siberian's appearance and that of the daughter of William Manton. From there, it was just a matter of searching for him until you discovered that he was still alive as well as his most recent location. Not to mention you pulled every last bit of data on their group that the PRT possessed. Sheesh, give yourself a little credit, JARVIS."
"Sorry, Miss. Of course, I was just being modest. Without me, this entire operation would have been a failure."
Still blinking back those mysterious tears, Taylor said, "See? That's the JARVIS I know and love."
There was a momentary silence, then JARVIS hesitantly said, "Miss, there is still the matter of the bounties on the Slaughterhouse Nine."
Taylor sighed wearily. "I suppose it amounts to an astronomical amount of money, doesn't it?"
"To put it mildly, Miss."
Taylor thought a second, then said, "Put in for it. When we get it, donate the entire amount to the Nine's victims. Do it anonymously."
"Of course, Miss. Although I would like to point out that while we may not take credit for the gift of the funds, it will not be particularly difficult for someone to realize who their mysterious benefactor is."
″That's fine. Just don't flaunt it. Under the circumstances, I don't think that would be appropriate. I take it that there's still no sign of survivors?″
″No, Miss.″
Taking one last look around, at the small town that had once been Alger, Ohio, and all of the bodies that lay scattered around, Taylor quietly said, "Release the rest of the nanobots, JARVIS. We might as well give Garden Spot a second front. Then do the same with every carrier world-wide. Contact the authorities and let them know what's happened here. For now, let's get the hell out of here."
"As you wish, Miss. Might I suggest the ocean again?"
Taylor nodded, her vision too blurred with tears despite the superiority of her nanobot-derived eyesight to easily see. A moment later, even as she launched herself skyward, already breaking Mach 1, the soothing sounds of the ocean began playing over her suit's internal speakers.
~~~Memories of Iron~~~
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