God, those mysterious vials with the coded labels. With everything else that was going on, I had barely thought about them lately. There were just… so many other things to deal with. It felt like it had been a few years since we broke into the Ministry headquarters and stole all that stuff. And now the others had figured out what they were? Did that have anything to do with the Cuddle Corps being around? Somehow I doubted that, or Oak probably would’ve been the one to tell me what was going on. Unless his family had wanted to surprise him too… was that a thing?
Yeah, I had no idea. What I did know was that I really needed to get to the shop and see what they were talking about. Even as I was gathering up my stuff and heading out, what little I did know about the vials was running through my head. There had been five of them. One had blue liquid in it, one a sort of brownish-black that looked gross, the third was bright amber, and the last two were both identical-looking purple. All of them had a long series of seemingly indecipherable number-letter codes, each different. Even the two identical purple vials had different labels. Paige and Sierra had both searched for any information on those letter-number combinations to no avail. At least, as far as I knew. Maybe something had finally come up on those searches.
Resisting the urge to coax Oak into finding out everything that was going on, since it was obvious they wanted to talk about it in person, I all-but flew out of the school with the little guy snug in my backpack. San started to say something to me, but I shouted apologies and added something about really needing to check something out. Then I was gone, sprinting out the door and down the steps. Was that suspicious or something? Maybe a little weird or whatever, but eh, for all he knew, I wanted to check out a new skating spot. Or maybe I was going to visit my parents. Or--yeah, there were plenty of options that didn’t get anywhere near what the actual truth was.
And, to be honest, if San Francisco saw me running out the door and managed to connect that to Paintball and Avant Guard, he deserved to figure out who I really was. Because damn.
Once I was far enough away from the school to slip into the alley and out of sight, I quickly changed into my costume behind an old dumpster. I was keeping an eye out for anyone coming, with some help from Oak, who crouched under the dumpster in a dry spot and stared out at the mouth of the alley just in case. While I was doing that, he asked what the whole thing with these vials was, so I gave him the quick version of that whole thing. Needless to say, he was intrigued, asking a series of questions all about exactly what they looked like, how thick they were--well the word he used was viscosity, whether they reacted to outside stimuli like changes in temperature or light or electrical shock, if we had touched the liquid inside at all, and plenty of other tests we could run.
In the end, I was pretty sure he was at least a little disappointed when I admitted I didn’t know much about what tests the others had done. But in my defense, there was that whole, ‘being incredibly busy and distracted’ thing. Besides, it wasn’t like I knew much about science. The best I could have done was hold and move things, and it was far more likely that I would’ve gotten in the way or distracted the others, who actually knew what they were doing.
Yeah, this was the best way it could’ve gone. The others did the smart stuff and then told me what they found out. If nothing else, that gave me the chance to ooh and aah over how smart they were, just like they deserved. Even if the lack of details on how they went about it did frustrate Oak a little bit. I was sure he could ask them what tests they ran once we got there.
And speaking of ‘once we got there,’ as soon as I was changed, I scooped up my backpack and Oak once more before taking a running jump toward a spot of blue-green paint. Even as I managed to drop Oak in the bag and swing it onto my shoulders, my feet hit the paint, catapulting me into the air. A quick shot of red up toward the edge of the nearby roof sent me that way, where I sailed out over the building with a loud whoop of excitement. Seriously, even with everything that was going on, all the stress and confusion and… all of it, the simple act of flying over rooftops, skating along the side of buildings, bounding from streetlight to billboard to water tower, and on and on was just… the best. At one time, I had thought that getting some air off a ramp at the skatepark was the closest I would get to personally flying. But now? Now I could hit a good fifty or sixty miles per hour skating with some green-painted assistance, then hit a blue-green spot and activate it at the right second to fling myself into a series of flips and spins through the sky. It was… it was absolutely incredible. The unbelievable freedom I felt in those moments was indescribable. Freedom as well as relief from worrying about my parents, the Ministry, and everything else. There was no chance to worry about all that. I had to focus on surviving each jump, on landing the right way, hitting the right spot with paint at the right time. My brain was solely devoted toward getting through each second without leaving me crippled and broken on the ground.
Maybe some people would find that terrifying enough to never do this stuff. But for me, it was freeing. I loved the thrill and danger of it, as I always had. But now, it was even more necessary. It made me feel alive, and helped me forget about everything else I had to worry about.
It also, in this particular case, helped take my mind off obsessively wondering about what the others had found out about those vials. I would find out the truth once I got there. Which, given the speed I managed to reach while practically flying over the rooftops, wouldn’t take all that long.
And in the end, it sure didn't. I made it to the shop in what had to be record time, even though I still took a slightly roundabout path and watched for anyone who could have been following me. It was only a few minutes between when I jumped out of that alley and when I landed on the fire escape next to the shop. As the metal rattled under me, I caught myself against the railing. Panting heavily, I pulled the bag off my shoulders and took a look at where Oak’s turtle head was still poking through the slight zipper opening I’d left for him. “Hey, you alive in there?” I had given the little guy a safeword to shout at me while we were doing all that if it was bothering him so I could slow down, but he hadn’t said it. Actually, he hadn’t said much of anything besides giving a few whoops alongside my own, or once when he asked if I really knew what I was doing.
It took the turtle plushy a moment to respond. Then he reached out, caught the zipper, and pulled it open the rest of the way so he could straighten up. Adjusting his suit, the little guy stared at me before giving what was honestly an adorable giggle that sounded completely out of place from the way he typically depicted himself. His head bobbed a bit. “I believe I can honestly say that was the most exciting few minutes of my not-at-all boring life. Ash and Willow will be so very jealous. They all will. But those two in particular. Be warned, you may be swarmed and overwhelmed with requests for more rides, if that’s the way they always go. When you said you ran and skated through the rooftops, I truthfully never… imagined anything quite like that.”
Blushing a little under my helmet, I gave him a little poke in the nose. “Well, all you guys have to do is ask. Believe me, I am totally up for taking any of you out on a run whenever we can. And if you think what we just did was fun, you should see what sort of wild ride I can put together when we don't have a specific place to get to, and I've got more time to really get creative.” I was already getting a few ideas about how to impress them. I’d taken the others with me on paint-runs, of course. But giving them green-speed and blue-jumps and all wasn’t exactly the same as literally allowing someone to ride along on my back the way Oak just had. Or, hell, the way Qwerty had a little bit. And he had loved it about as much as Oak apparently did. Having Murphy or one of my other full-grown teammates riding on my back would’ve been… awkward. But with the Cuddle Corps and Qwerty? Yeah, that had some potential. I could totally take them for rides around the city, call it practice or whatever. Hmm… yes, a lot of potential indeed.
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But right now, the potential I was really focused on was what those vials were capable of. Jumping down from the fire escape with just a little bit of orange paint to land without breaking my ankles, I headed in through that back door while waving toward the nearby camera. As soon as we passed inside and closed the door, I called out, “Okay, just so you all know, if this whole secret of the vials thing was just an excuse to get me here faster so you can pawn some extra chores off on me, you’re gonna have one very disappointed skater kid!”
“And a disappointed stuffed turtle!” Oak called out while poking his head up from the bag I was carrying. “Granted, I quite literally only learned of the existence of these vials minutes ago, but still!”
Yeah, I was definitely doing my best to distract myself from the fact that we still had Pittman upstairs. Not to mention the question of when and how exactly the Ministry was going to start demanding we hand him over. They had to know we had him by now. I have been expecting to get a phone call at any point. Maybe they knew I had to be going to school somewhere and were waiting until they figured I was free? In which case, that call would be coming any minute. I needed this distraction.
And hey, who knew? Maybe whatever these vials were would have something to do with doing something about Pittman. That could be how they'd figured out what they were for. Sure, I had no idea what that could be, but then again, I didn't know anything about them at all. Other than what color they were, and as I had rediscovered when being questioned by Oak, that wasn't all that helpful.
No sooner had those words escaped us then Wren came bounding down the nearby stairs, beckoning us to come with her. The little blonde girl’s eyes were shining with excitement. “Come on,” she urged before turning to run back up the stairs. “You've gotta hear about this!”
Okay, the fact that she was clearly excited and happy forestalled my fear that she wanted us to hurry because there was something wrong with Pittman. Exchanging a glance with Oak, I shrugged before heading that way. It made sense that they were doing science work upstairs in the lab, but I still couldn't help but worry about them doing anything with the vials within a few feet of where that asshole was secured. I just didn't like it, no matter how irrational it might have been. Yes, if anything had happened, someone would have sent the alert out to us. And even if they couldn’t, Paige had been in constant contact with both Sierra and the security system here the whole time we were at school. She would have seen something and let me know.
There were plenty of reasons to be confident that everything was fine. Or at least as fine as it could be under these circumstances. And yet, that didn’t entirely silence the worried voice whispering in the back of my mind.
Thankfully, the assortment of doom and gloom scenarios that kept popping up in my head while going up those stairs didn’t come to pass. Pittman was still secured where he belonged right there on the bench, while Fred, Sierra, and Qwerty were standing around the other side of the room. Willow the penguin plushie was there too, while the rest of their group were scattered around the store as they continued to play lookouts just in case anything happened. Meanwhile, Paige and others weren’t here yet, apparently. I had gotten here pretty quickly, I supposed.
Giving the imprisoned man a brief look to assure myself even more that he was right there and nothing had changed, I spoke up, “So, I hear you guys have been a bit busy today.” Pittman couldn’t hear anything, not while he was stuck inside virtual reality. Apparently Wren had set up a program that would make him feel like he was sitting in a prison cell. Which was appropriate.
And speaking of appropriate, Willow floated up on her hoverboard, revealing that the small penguin was dressed in a frankly adorable tiny lab coat and goggles that Wren had to have provided. I wasn’t even sure where the Tech-Touched girl had gotten them, but somehow I wasn’t at all surprised. Willow held both wings out to wave at us with a cheerful, “Hiya Oak! We were doing science!”
Qwerty bounded across the room to land on my shoulder. His little head bobbing rapidly up-and-down as he excitedly agreed, “Yup, yup, yup! We were doing all the science at those pesky vials! They didn't want to give up their secrets, but we gave them a left and then a right and then a headbutt and a tail thwap!” He was demonstrating while standing there on my shoulder, punching twice with his tiny paws before slamming his head forward and swinging his tail around. “Oh, they still tried to hold out, the stubborn little things. But we scienced them into submission with a good chokehold! Cuz we are the champion scientists, and no dumb little vials full of color goo are gonna hold onto their secrets for long! They surrendered to our might!” With that, he stood up tall and flexed his arms like a pro wrestler or bodybuilder.
Wren was giggling at the little guy. “Uh, yeah, it was definitely something like that.” She held her hands out until he jumped over to land in them, smiling as he made a chittering noise of approval when she started scratching under his chin. Her eyes found me before she added, “We really did figure out what they do. I mean, not exactly why the Ministry made them or who they’re planning to use them on, but… but we know what they do. Or what they’re supposed to do, anyway.”
The way she was saying that made me grimace. “Okay, why do I feel like when I hear what these vials are supposed to do, it’s going to raise as many questions as it answers, if not more?”
From where she was standing off in the corner, Sierra spoke up. “Maybe because you have functioning pattern recognition. Isn’t that the way everything goes these days?”
I started to say something else, but before I could, the others arrived. Apparently Paige had taken the time to pick up Murphy and Roald, while Peyton had flown over. Finally, we were all gathered up in that room, anxiously waiting for an explanation.
Or rather-- my gaze turned toward Paige as I squinted. “You already know the truth about this, don’t you? I mean, you’ve been connected to the security system this whole time, you had to have been watching them.”
She, in turn, scowled albeit good-naturedly. “No, I don’t. Sierra kept muting things so I couldn’t keep track of what they were finding out. She said it should be a surprise to me too.”
Sierra grinned, stretching her arms out lazily over her head. “Well, that’s only fair, right? She can keep track of what’s going on in case there’s danger or whatever, but getting a sneak peek at the answers before you guys get them?” Her finger wagged as she tutted. “Nope, not this time.”
“Okay, okay!” Murphy was clearly done with waiting. “So what is the answer? What are the vials for?”
So, they explained. According to Wren, Qwerty, and Sierra (Fred basically just piped up now and then to mention bits of grunt work in running down tools or whatnot he’d needed to do), each vial was one part of a concoction which, when put together properly and combined with samples of someone’s DNA, was supposed to change the person who drank it to exactly match the source of that DNA at the time it had been taken.
My mouth opened and shut. “Wait, so it’s like… they’re trying to permanently change one person into another at the molecular level or something?”
Sierra shook her head. “That’s the thing, it’ll only work on someone who matches the DNA that gets added to it. So it’s like, if you have a DNA sample from a guy when he was ten years old, and he takes this concoction, it’ll revert him to that ten-year-old self.”
“Why the hell would they want to do that?” Murphy demanded. “Is this like a fountain of youth sort of thing?”
“Hey yeah, that could work.” Peyton was nodding. “If they made more of this stuff they could just keep genetic samples of themselves and keep reverting their ages whenever they started getting old.”
Beside them, Roald frowned thoughtfully. “That may be a side goal or whatever, but that’s not really the main point, is it?”
Wren bounced up and down anxiously on her toes. “Uh, we don’t think so. We’re pretty sure it’s supposed to take someone who has powers and revert them to a state before they had them.”
“Wait, they want to use this stuff to make a Touched not a Touched anymore? Someone whose DNA they have from before they Touched.” I stared that way, a million thoughts running through my head. But one was louder than the rest.
“Whose powers are they trying to take away?”