Last month, Lady Venus and I got into an argument. I don't remember what we were even arguing about at this point; it doesn't matter, anyway. What does matter is that we settled it like mature adults: by making a bet over how much money I, as an independent bounty hunter, could make in a single month.

I immediately scoured Austin for high-profile villains who were wanted by the law, and started bringing them in one after the other. My own power made finding the villains a piece of cake, to the point that, halfway through the month, I'd run out of villains to hunt in Austin.

I cursed my ill fortune, having run out of steam before I could cross the finish line... and then I realized that, because of my actions, inspired and lightly assisted by Lady Venus, the entire city of Austin had run out of villains. And suddenly it all clicked into place. This hadn't been a fit of childish pique. This had been a test, a task assigned for the improvement of myself and the lives of those around me.

The mark of a true hero, I've been told, is that they inspire those around them to be better than they originally were. And while it might have been through an unorthodox method, after the month I've had, I cannot call Lady Venus anything less.

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"I think I'm required by law to marry you, now," Nicky said, setting the newspaper down once she finished reading my little puff piece aloud to everyone.

The fact that this world still had newspapers was an oddity I'd gotten used to- I'd grown up at a time when newspapers were still somewhat commonplace, and they hadn't vanished completely when I left- but also a very instructive one. Information technology had grown and matured earlier in this universe, thanks to superscience, and among other things like the Dotcom Bubble happening years earlier(apparently Nicky's dad had made a fortune at the time from a procedural generator for dick jokes), the forces that would have and should have made physical newspapers obsolete were in full force before Akane and Nicky had been born.

And yet it moved. Newspapers were still printed and distributed, and nobody thought it odd to have the papers delivered every morning; certainly no odder than wearing a wristwatch in this age of multifunction pocket-watches we call 'phones.' Why was that? Newspapers hadn't gone obsolete because the internet made newspapers more difficult to produce, after all. They'd gone obsolete because the internet was more convenient than newspapers, and people had stopped wanting newspapers. And in this world, there definitely was a general bias towards using the internet to get your news, rather than ink and paper... but there was also a superpowered news mogul who was hellbent on keeping printed news culturally relevant, and in this world, the Great Men with enough power got their way.

It was different from how things were back home. Back home, sure, especially-potent supernaturals ruled their own little hidden quasi-fiefdoms, but on a grand scale, one person could not change the rules. Empires fell, thrones crumbled, and entropy always won. Not so, in this world. Here, the Great Men really did have the magnetism, the oomph, to carry out their will.

"That may not be the wisest choice," I said. "I haven't yet decided I like this world enough to stay when my job is done."

"Then take me with you," Nicky said with a shrug.

I blinked.

"...I don't know how to respond to that, so I'm going to politely but firmly pretend it didn't happen," I said. "Anyway, Akane, how've you been doing with my notes on scanning?"

I'd actually shared all of my mad science notes with Akane, on every field. However, Akane and I both understood what our current priorities were, and we both specialized in scanning; therefore, our main focus was on scanners and their ability to gather information.

"It's really arbitrary," Akane complained. "I was working on this one theory that should have let me see the past and the future, but no matter how many times I checked the math, it wouldn't work."

"Yeah, mad science is like that," I said. "The going hypothesis is that the working models aren't the only thing necessary for workings of mad science, and there's some other underlying mechanism that limits what each individual is capable of doing with mad science. That's why, even though I could write detailed step-by-step instructions for all of my implants, you wouldn't be able to follow those instructions and recreate them until you reached the point where you could invent them yourself, making my instructions somewhat use-impaired."

"Isn't the point of science that it's replicable by anyone, no matter what they know, as long as they follow the right steps?" Nicky asked.

"Real science is like that, yes," I said. "In real science, the universe appears to be largely materialistic, and wholly uncaring of what you think. But in mad science, just like every other kind of supernatural power, the universe is dualistic, and does care what you think. The universe cares that I am not a thaumaturge, and thus I cannot work their High Sorcery. The universe cares that I am not a druid, and thus I cannot work directly with spirits or turn into a bird. And the universe cares that Akane isn't yet deep enough in her study of scanning to replicate my work. What criteria does it care about? We're not sure! There's a lot of conflicting evidence, some suggesting that the underlying system is the same for all demiurges, and some suggesting that it's different for all demiurges! Nobody knows anything!"

"Jesus christ," Nicky muttered.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

"It's no wonder mad scientists go insane so often," I said. "I am, in all honesty, kinda just hoping that Akane can develop her skills in a productive direction at all. Maybe she can't! Fuck if I know!"

"Well, on that cheerful note," Lisa said, "I've figured out how to bind spirits into tools."

"That's possible?" Nicky asked.

"Has to be," Akane said. "Superscientists are half-spirits just like druids are, and they make devices we can only really describe as 'objects with superpowers.'"

"It's also a common practice among druids," I said blandly. "Anyhow, Lisa, what have you made so far?"

"A mess," Lisa said. "You're probably going to need a new scalpel."

"I don't own a... You mean the x-acto knife?" I asked. "Round handle, replaceable blades shaped like a triangle?"

"That's what it was," Lisa said. "I bound a hearth-spirit into it and the damn thing melted. Now it's a puddle-shaped piece of slag on the floor of the basement. I'm glad I wasn't holding it when the binding was going."

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

"Hey, knives are cheap," Nicky said. "It's not like we can't afford it."

"It's not that," I said, shaking my head. "It's just that there is now a second person I have to educate in workshop safety protocol." I sighed dramatically. "Fuck's sake, I went into psionics and autohypnosis specifically so I wouldn't have to keep fucking around with angle grinders and soldering irons. Why aren't any of you this possessive of your fingers?"

"I design jet engines," Akane said with a shrug.

"I'm not a demiurge," Lisa added.

"Don't look at me, my hobbies happen at a desk," Nicky said. "Vegans don't even get repetitive strain injury."

"I'd be jealous if I still used a keyboard," I said. "But, well. Computer in my head."

"I still want one," Lisa said.

"I'll put it on the list," I said.

"Aren't there safety concerns?" Akane asked.

"Yeah, that's why it goes on the list," I said. "Step one is to develop my scanning and communication technology to the point where I can communicate with Earth A-510, a goal I'm actually pretty close to. Step two, figure out from them whether or not it'd be safe to give you a brain implant. And then step three, which we can do in a single day but won't do in a single day until we know it's safe."

"What else is on the list?" Nicky asked.

"Let me check," I said, closing my eyes and accessing my list. "So, pursuant to capturing Doctor Skinner, I have to find her operation or operations, and currently my best lead is figuring out what Gideon knows, cross-referencing that with both what I know and what Liquid Courage and Valiant know, and checking anything that leaps out to us as suspicious."

"Things like what?" Akane asked.

"Well, if Gideon remembers which specific zoning laws Skinner was complaining about, we may be able to figure out which specific areas those laws apply to, and narrow down where she can be," I said. "And, beyond finding Skinner, I think we also need to work on developing our own capacities further. Only one or two of us have anywhere near reached the maturity of our capabilities, and considering that superheroes are in fact half-spirits like druids are, I expect even Nicky might have a lot of low-hanging fruit to pluck."

"Hey, I'm plenty capable," Nicky protested.

"You're a one-trick pony is what you are," I said.

"Am not!"

"Then what are your information-gathering options? You've been tasked with finding Doctor Skinner; what have you been doing to that end?"

"Delegation," she said primly.

"Remember how we had a formal agreement about a wager, and how that established the winner's dominance and authority? And how I won? I am now your commanding officer, and you will spend no fewer than two hours a day for the next five days learning from Lisa."

"Yes, Daddy."

"If I had a nickel for every time I've been called Daddy in a sexual way by someone I wasn't actually sleeping with, I'd have enough to buy a gumball," I said.

"Why does that keep happening to you?" Lisa asked.

"People see a tall butch with some jawline and a deep voice and think 'I'm gonna call her Daddy as a joke,' because they don't think I've heard that one before," I said. "Well, okay, one of them wasn't joking, she was just a chaser, but that's besides the point. At any rate, I'm gonna go upstairs and get some work done. Ping me if you need me."

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I didn't really have that much use for my desk. I mean, sure, it was a private place to sit down and do stuff, like eat or do small electronics projects, but I didn't really need that. I just sat there, in a desk chair I'd made a project out of, examining my latest acquisition.

It was generally true that artifacts of mad science were sustained by the will of the demiurge who created them. But it wasn't exclusively true. Such an artifact could be cut loose from the will of their creator, taking on a will of its own. These independent artifacts could be bargained and bonded with by other demiurges; indeed, Skinner had done it herself with the stolen portal gun that she lacked the skills to create herself.

And I had done it with her own pinnacle creation, more easily than I could've bonded with any other artifact. In a lot of ways that mattered, I was already its creator, its owner, its master. I had provided the key insight catalyzing the epiphany that allowed it to exist, and I had concocted the specific the framework of autohypnotic psychic formulations that Doctor Skinner had pilfered from the archives of the Institute for Applied Transhumanism.

Plus, right of conquest and all. I'd ripped this most potent of mind control formulas from the mind of Skinner's own catspaw, after all. I would bend it to my will, learn its secrets, and replicate it to my own purposes.

Scan. Automate. Control.

The tools of a Bond villain.

The tools of Doctor Beatrice Skinner, who chose that path with open eyes.

The tools of Doctor Roxanne Updyke, who was dragged down it by treachery.

I could hate these tools all I wanted, and I very much did.

But I wouldn't let that hatred stop me from using them.