Nobody questions me when I ask for a few days off. Things are still dire, but the others can begin to pick up the pieces well enough without me. I don’t intend to spend my so-called vacation relaxing, though. The last thing I need right now is time alone with myself.
Instead, I get straight to work. Avoiding difficult tasks has never been my way of dealing with things. Instead, I tackle them head-on. In this case, that means dealing with the Vitruvian’s corpse. After eighteen hours with the body under isolated observation, I allow myself to start believing he’s really dead. Then comes the hard part.
The first order of business is removing the armor. I lay him down on the same operating table where I examined Father’s body, and allow the Winter Warsuit to interface with his technology. Without an animating intelligence behind it, the armor proves easy enough to subvert, and I instruct it to divest itself of its host. The machine complies, removing every last trace of machinery from the Vitruvian’s body. That includes his arm, which I have to swiftly bandage up, before he leaks blood all over the floor of my lab. When that’s done, I find the armor has folded itself into some sort of talisman, resting on his chest. It doesn’t react when I pick it up.
Worse still, the Vitruvian’s body doesn’t react in the slightest. Besides the bleeding, that is. He certainly doesn’t age four decades in an instant. As that sinks in, I slowly start to wonder what might have happened if we removed it the moment we found him. Would he have been more receptive to our arguments, without his mental state stuck in an inflexible form? Or would things have gone just the same?
It’s an irrelevant question, considering we lacked the capability to remove his armor at the time. I set the talisman down and run a full scan of his body. To my surprise, there are no hidden secrets underneath the surface. No last will and testament. I imagine he thought his deeds would be more than enough for others to remember him by. And perhaps he was right. After all, his story ended where everybody thinks it did, for all intents and purposes. The only people aware of this short, tragic epilogue are the Arcana, the Council, and I.
Once my autopsy is complete, I take a day to decide what to do with the Vitruvian’s remains. A proper burial would be nice, but it would require explaining to the world what happened to him, and there’s no story we could spin that wouldn’t have a few gaping holes in it- namely, why he has a few gaping holes in him. Instead, I bury him in the family crypt, right next to Father. A part of me hopes that would amuse them. Another part hopes they’d be seething in fury. But the truth is, neither of them would have an opinion, because they’re both dead. No faces in the clouds telling me they’re proud, or disappointed for that matter. Any power they might have once had over me is gone. For better and for worse, I’m finally my own man.
Ishtar is waiting for me when I head back inside. We haven’t spoken much since I came back from the oil rig. Perhaps it’s something in my eyes that informs her I’m ready to talk.
“The notion of fatherhood is only one I really understand in the abstract. I don’t have parents, just genetic donors, enough that trying to attach some sort of emotional resonance to that connection would be a fool’s errand.”
In other words, she doesn’t know how to relate. Of course, it’s not my father that I just buried, but in a certain way the Vitruvian represented the last real connection I had to his past. There are Roman, Otto, and Mac, of course- not to mention much of my equipment was inspired by him. But now I have no more unpaid debts that he incurred, attached to my name.
“Still, it’s clear that this isn’t easy for you. If you’d like to talk about it...”
She trails off, as I wrap her in an embrace. She returns it after a moment, and we remain like that for anywhere between five minutes and fifty. When I finally let go, I meet her pearl-white eyes and find myself doing something dangerously close to smiling.
“I don’t have anything more to say. About either of them.”
----------------------------------------
The malaise I felt after my final confrontation with the Vitruvian passes sooner than expected, but I don’t return to the work just yet. I’m perfectly happy to let the rest of the Council believe I’m still moping around, if it means I get to spend a little quality time with Ishtar. Particularly since I suspect we’ll both be swamped with work the moment we go back.
A few days into our unofficial vacation, Sandra comes to visit. It’s probably pretty obvious that I haven’t been crying my eyes out, considering Ishtar and I are playing chess when she arrives, but she doesn’t look particularly surprised.
“Afternoon, you two. Hope I’m not interrupting anything too important.”
“Not at all,” Ishtar replies with a smirk. “Although Conrad here has agreed to let my people take over the world if I win this game.”
“Well, best of luck to you with that,” the erstwhile hacktivist responds, unperturbed. “I’m no good at chess, but I did write an algorithm to solve it for me once. Had to shut it down after it decided the most efficient way to win involved orbital killsats, though.”
We share a chuckle at that, and Sandra takes a seat on the couch, a short distance away from the small table where Ishtar and I are playing. I make my next move, putting me six turns closer to checkmate, and give Zero my full attention.
“Can I presume this isn’t a social call?”
“Yeah,” she confirms, looking slightly guilty for a moment. “We figured someone should let you know that we worked it all out with the Arcana.”
That much was rather obvious, considering I wasn’t called up to continue the fight. Still, I’d be lying if I claimed that I hadn’t felt flashes of curiosity over the past few days as to how that whole thing worked out. Whatever I might be, though, a diplomat I’m not, so it’s probably for the best that I wasn’t involved with any of that- especially since I’m the only Council member who’s actually killed one of theirs.
“I’m glad to hear it. Anything in particular I should be aware of?”
“Yeah, actually. They wouldn’t agree to let us use the Geas brains to mindwipe the ones we captured, so we had to send them all back, but the Empress assured us that any lingering hostilities would be dealt with internally. Doesn’t mean we don’t need to keep an eye on Atlas or that Traylor guy, but there shouldn’t be any more fighting in the immediate future, at least.”
Not the most reassuring news, but I suppose mindwiping members of the Arcana we never had physical access to wasn’t an especially realistic plan. Besides, we had several of their members in our custody for days. There’s quite literally zero chance Kellan didn’t take measures to ensure they wouldn’t be a threat to us in that time. Based on my understanding of how Atlas’s powers work, the nanite bomb trick won’t work on him, but Hawkshaw is exceedingly resourceful- he’ll have found a way.
“That’s not all, is it?”
“No. We agreed that, in order to prevent something like this from happening again, the relationship between us and them would have to change. And since we’re both down at least one member now, the best way to patch things up was to each send a representative over to the other side.”
I raise an eyebrow, while Ishtar doesn’t so much as react, her attention fully focused on the board, trying to figure out how to escape the trap I’ve placed her in. It’s not her fault- they didn’t exactly have recreational board games in Vanaheim, and I’ve spent a while studying chess in particular, in the vain hope of one day beating Kellan, despite the advantage his power gives him.
“They’ll be sending one of theirs to join us, and vice versa? I assume it’ll be a member of the Empress’ faction.”
“Yeah. Temperance. She’s... a little strange. You’ll probably meet her when you get back to Abyss. And they requested Kell in particular, to fill the Justice seat.”
The irony of sending someone like Kellan to fill the Vitruvian’s old seat is enough to make me laugh aloud- though it dies off quickly enough, when the problems with that arrangement occur to me.
“Won’t that make the execution of his duties as chairman rather difficult?”
“Yep. He didn’t really want the job, but they wouldn’t take anybody else, so he decided to resign as chairperson early. We actually had a quick preliminary vote earlier today, and, well... pretty much everybody agreed that you should be the one to replace him.”
That gets Ishtar’s attention. She looks up from the board, sees the look on my face, and starts to laugh.
“What? Why? I’m- It’s my fault that all of this happened in the first place. The Vitruvian would never have gotten loose if not for me. It’s only because of my negligence that the Arcana got the upper hand on us. If anything, I should be getting demoted, not rewarded.”
Now Sandra is laughing too.
“Well, in a way, you kinda are. Haley’s taking over Extinction Group while you’re in the big chair. But also, you’re selling yourself a bit short. You got us through this whole thing. We wouldn’t have won that last fight without you, that’s for sure.”
“Maybe so,” I reply, still trying to process the fact that a majority of the Council voted for me to replace Kellan as chairman. “But that was a technological achievement, not a victory of leadership.”
“Winters, don’t sell yourself short,” Sandra says, rolling her eyes. “You’re good for more than just making stuff. Besides, wasn’t your dad famous for running his own team? Are you saying you don’t think you can do better than him?”
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The sheer audacity of that blatant attempt to bait me is enough to make me fall silent- not least because we both know it’s going to work.
“...damn you. Very well, I accept. When does Kellan’s tenure end and mine begin?”
“Tomorrow. See you at the office!”
A smug grin on her lips, Sandra stands, and activates her implant, translocating away with a wink.
“Well, it seems we’re going to have to cut this interlude short,” Ishtar says after a few moments. “Checkmate, by the way.”
----------------------------------------
When I return, Abyss is abuzz with activity. Network’s bodies bustle down the black-stone halls, more than I’ve ever seen here at once. Evidently, he’s working overtime to repair the damage that his absence caused. Many of them are bunched together, and I see Tahir amidst one such group, speaking animatedly. No doubt new opportunities have arisen as a result of this crisis, and he’s arguing in favor of allowing Arcadia to leverage its influence to take advantage. He stops when he sees me, the crowd of bodies coming to a simultaneous halt behind him.
“Winters. Good to see you’re back on your feet.”
“You as well,” I reply, somewhat surprised by his uncharacteristic camaraderie. “How are the children?”
“Well enough. Orhan won’t stop asking when his friend the samurai is coming over to visit again. Here,” he laughs, fishing something out of his pocket. “He wanted you to have this.”
Tahir tosses me the device. At first glance, it appears to be my mechanical hummingbird, and I begin to search for the damage that must have necessitated him to bring it to me. But as I observe the automaton, differences in the design become clear. Setting it upright in my hand, I watch it flap its wings rapidly, but fail to achieve liftoff.
“He made it at school,” Tahir explains. I raise an eyebrow.
“Quite the bright one you’ve got there. I’ll speak with Kellan about arranging a playdate.”
Chuckling to himself, the First Minister walks off, gaggle of Networks in tow. Silently sharing in his mirth, I continue on my way down the hall. Although I haven’t had cause to activate the Warsuit fully since the battle, it’s still wired into me, providing a three-sixty degree view of the world, among other things. The amount of sensory input available is so staggering, I feel surprised I managed to live without it all my life.
Despite Ishtar’s prior request, I’m not going to be able to make her a suit of her own. There are obvious reasons not- for one, if I gave every Council member their own, it would raise certain questions about what connections such disparate individuals share. And I doubt the excuse that they go to the same tailor would satisfy anybody. But more importantly, I simply don’t think I could recreate the Winter Warsuit if I wanted to. It wasn’t exactly a linear, or even sane design process. More like a maddened fugue, a frenzy of forging that my Arcadian assistants struggled to keep pace with. The circumstances were as crucial to the process as anything else. Without the immediate necessity, I couldn’t attain the same degree of focus and determination. Even trying to walk myself back through the steps in my mind’s eye, I find the equations too complex to recall, the precise blend of metamaterials an indistinct haze. That doesn’t mean I won’t try, of course, but I doubt my attempts will yield results.
Through the wall, I can see Kellan sitting in his office. Rather than knock, I bypass the biometric lock and walk in. He doesn’t scream or gasp, but the barrel of his gun is aimed squarely at me when I enter. Looking annoyed, he lowers it and minimizes the holo-screens in front of him, gesturing for me to take a seat.
“The next time you do that, I’m going to shoot you. No joke.”
“I’d expect nothing less.”
Kellan chuckles and drums his fingers on the desk for a moment, studying me intently. Then he leans back and stretches.
“How are you? Looking forward to taking my job?”
“Not in the slightest,” I reply with a grin. “I still can’t believe you managed to pawn this job off on me. But I’m not here to discuss that- I just wanted to check in on the others. You seemed the obvious person to ask, seeing as I’m fairly certain you watch us all as we’re sleeping.”
Looking somewhat surprised at the question, Kellan shrugs.
“Me? I’m fine. Probably got off the easiest of anybody in this whole thing. Zero’s still quadruple-checking to see whether the Vitruvian left behind a deadman’s switch that would reveal us, but it seems like we’re in the clear. If he did, it’s probably at the bottom of the ocean right now regardless.”
If Kellan is being this glib, it means he really is confident that there’s nothing any of our foes left behind that could even potentially threaten our secrecy.
“Tahir’s doing great. Apparently taking a nasty hit like he did tends to kickstart his whole evolutionary thing, and leaves him a lot stronger than he was before. Though I think having an excuse to spend some time away from home is helping too.”
“Hah. Glad to hear he’s feeling well. What about Adamant?”
“Haley is... fine,” Kellan says, less confidently. “Told me she wants to spend a little more time with the team right now. I think fighting the good guys left a bad taste in her mouth.”
I nod, sympathetic.
“Reasonable enough, but let’s hope she isn’t away for too long. We need Extinction Group back up and running as soon as possible.”
Before this whole incident with the Arcana, I would have been more concerned about the possibility of losing Haley entirely. But she wouldn’t quit the Council now that she’s been put in charge of Extinction Group. Hopefully she, Zero, and Ishtar will be able to manage fine without me- though I suppose there’s really nothing to stop me from consulting with them in an unofficial capacity if they need my help.
“Agreed. Nothing’s decided yet, but it seems like the new girl is gonna be working with them too.”
“I see. Temperance, yes? What do you know about her?”
“Not much, yet. But I’m working on it. By the sound of things, she’s the one who was in charge of making sure Atlas and his allies won’t be a problem for us going forward. So, watch yourself around her.”
I scratch my chin pensively. The fact that she occupies the role of Temperance does suggest she might have an ability that relates to the tempering of anger, although that’s almost too on the nose.
“Understood. Have you given any thought to new recruits? It seems far too early to determine if we can trust our latest addition fully, and without Ulysses, we are down one heavy hitter.”
“Yeah, actually,” Kellan replies, not seeming especially surprised that we were thinking along the same lines. “I’ll leave you the list I’ve been working on.”
“Any winners?”
“Hard to say,” he replies pensively. “I was tempted to push for Ashmaker, but she might react badly to the whole thing.”
“What about Nemesis?”
Kellan looks taken aback.
“What about him?”
“Well, unless I’m mistaken, there isn’t exactly a formal procedure for removing former members. Which means that--”
“Like I said,” Hawkshaw interjects, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. And even if you made the offer, I don’t think he’d agree.”
“Oh? Why not? Is there something he’d rather be doing?”
“Dispensing justice, delivering retribution, balancing the scales... that sort of thing.”
“And keeping an eye out for undiscovered metahumans to send your way?”
“If he happened to spot any, I’m sure he’d keep me in mind.”
The two of us remain silent for a few moments. Evidently, Kellan is unwilling to admit the truth outright. I sigh, and lean back in my chair, accepting defeat for the time being.
“What about the other two?”
Kellan raises an eyebrow.
“Are you suggesting we give Darius a seat? Or- don’t tell me you think Apex--”
“Obviously not. I’m merely asking after their health.”
“Oh,” Kellan sighs, looking relieved. “The kid is doing fine. I was thinking about seeing if Tahir could arrange for somebody on Arcadia to take care of him. They’re probably better-equipped to deal with his... issues. And Apex said something about being invited to a tournament on a private island before he flew off. I think he still has your bat, by the way.”
“He can keep it. I’ll build another one.”
“If you’re sure,” Kellan says with a laugh. “You know, I realized something funny earlier.”
“And what might that be?”
“Well, if you think about it, this would be the second time the fate of the world came down to two people in armor fighting it out.”
It takes a moment for me to place the reference, and then I laugh too.
“That’s certainly one way of looking at it. Another way might be that I won my fight, while you, well...”
Kellan waves a hand dismissively.
“Details, details. What matters is, we did it.”
“Perhaps we should start a club. Commission exclusive jackets, or championship rings...”
“That seems a little too self-aggrandizing, don’t you think? Liv would never stop making fun of me.”
“Let them laugh,” I reply, injecting false righteousness into my tone. “We were the ones that fought for their freedoms. If it weren’t for us, they’d all be speaking Andromedan right now!”
Laughing almost inaudibly, Kellan rests his head against his fist, eyes half-shut and smiling. It’s difficult to square the man before me with the one that he becomes when the mask comes on.
“You’re right. We need jackets, and rings, and a special hat we only wear during meetings And a secret handshake...”
He trails off again, descending back into laughter. At this point, I think it’s more a manifestation of the stress of the last few weeks finally dissipating, than any real amusement over my joke. Eventually, he gets ahold of himself and sits back upright, still grinning.
“I’ll get right on that. My first act as chairman.”
“Good, good. By the way, how’s Ishtar doing? I haven’t seen her. And, you know, we didn’t get much of a chance to discuss her before...” He waves a hand vaguely. “Everything.”
“It can be difficult to tell with her. Obviously she has a different perspective on things than the rest of us. I was rather worried that her confidence in us might be shaken, but she’s given no indication thus far.”
“Mhm. And your... relationship?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I reply, deliberately echoing his earlier words. My face tightens involuntarily.
“We don’t have to discuss it if you don’t want to. But Sandra saw the two of you hugging during--”
“Sandra wouldn’t have mentioned that. She isn’t exactly a gossip. Let me guess- Nemesis?”
“Conrad, if you built some machine that lets you steal my detective powers, I’m going to be quite upset with you.”
“You don’t have any detective powers,” I shoot back. “Unless you call digging through trash bins a power.”
“Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it. Anyway, we don’t have to talk about it, but if you’re willing... I mean, look. I’m not going to judge you.”
“I know. In fact, I was thinking of asking you for some advice. But not quite yet. I’m still sorting out exactly how I feel about her, and I think she’s doing the same. It’s unexplored territory for the both of us.”
Kellan nods seriously.
“Take your time. Trying to force things never goes well. And if you need anything, or even just want to talk, I’m always available.”
“Thank you.” I pause for a moment. “Actually, there is one thing you can do for me right now.”
“Yeah?”
“Promise me you’ll do everything in your power to prevent Ishtar from meeting Olivia. If the two of them are given half a chance, they’ll begin conspiring against us both. And you know as well as I do that we’d stand no chance against them.”
Looking shaken, Kellan nods vigorously.
“You have my solemn vow.”
“I’m pleased to see you understand the gravity of the situation. Now, unless there’s anything else...?”
“Not at the moment.”
“In that case, I’ll take my leave. ”
Kellan gives me a sardonic salute as I stand and make my way out of his office. No doubt he’s got plenty to do before he can finalize his resignation and I can take over. Despite still thinking of myself as a generally ambitious person, I don’t find myself especially excited by the prospect. Maybe the Vitruvian’s accusations about me being power-hungry have tainted the idea in my mind. But I can’t afford to dismiss his concerns, either. If I allow this power to corrupt me, it’ll prove him right, and Father too for that matter.
Before I can ruminate much further on that, I spot an unfamiliar figure. Judging by the way she walks, and the fact that she’s not wearing a uniform, she isn’t one of Network’s bodies. I pick up the pace slightly to catch up with her, and she turns around when she hears me coming, looking slightly amused but unsurprised.
“Mister Winters.”
“In the flesh. And you would be Temperance, I presume?”
“That’s correct,” she replies, extending a hand for me to shake. She’s got a hint of what I think is a Nigerian accent, and wears an understated white sundress that seems decidedly out of place in the halls of Abyss. “The Empress sends her regards, and extends her congratulations on your recent appointment as chairperson of the Council.”
“Please give her my regards, and my sympathies that she’s now burdened with the addition of our former chairman to her ranks.”
Temperance laughs politely, and releases my hand.
“Well, Mister Winters, I’m sure you have places to be, and preparations to make. Rest assured, however, that I will put forth nothing but my very best efforts in service of this Council.”
“I’m glad to hear it, and look forward to working with you in the future.”
The Arcana’s representative turns and walks away in the opposite direction, leaving me to continue on, left slightly unsettled by that brief interaction. We’ll have to keep a close eye on her, especially if Kellan isn’t going to be around as often. He’s got the best instincts of any of us, and it doesn’t seem entirely implausible that the Arcana might have demanded he specifically join their ranks just so he wouldn’t be here to notice when their envoy starts working against us. But if there’s anything that the Council is prepared for most, it’s someone else trying to take us down from within. That’s precisely how we rose to power, and it would be rather embarrassing if someone did us in the exact same way.
For once, I’m grateful for the labyrinthine halls of Abyss. The walk to my next destination gives me time to think. Along the way, Ishtar joins me. Neither of us speaks, she simply wraps an arm around my waist. I feel an intangible current run up my spine, the hair on the back of my neck standing on end. A reminder that, for all my fancy armor, I’ll always have a vulnerability to her. True in more ways than one.
Slipping an arm over Ishtar’s shoulder, I run my fingers gently through her hair. She laughs softly, as if amused by the gesture, but makes no move to stop me. Eventually, however, I do, as we approach our destination. The Monitor Room, where our entire surveillance network feeds through. The central data hub for the entire planet. Sandra is likely the only person capable of processing it all at once. Or at least she was, until now. With Ishtar watching behind me, I reach out and place my hands on the controls, but rather than operating them manually, I connect them directly to my armor.
There’s a momentary pause, and then everything is revealed to me. The planet spins slowly in my mind’s eye, and with a thought, I can peer down from the heavens into any location that might interest me, using the Council’s satellites as my eyes. I see Atlas lifting a trawler high above his head, carrying it out of the path of a raging storm. I see the Consultant sit down with his latest client, tent his fingers, and tell them to begin. The Front Line stands between a group of striking factory workers and a phalanx of riot police. In Syria, the latest New Eden site is already beginning to bloom, a patch of verdant green among the desert sands.
Somewhere, the next threat is brewing. Waiting for the right moment to strike. And we’ll be waiting right here, ready to take them on.
“Hello, world. Let’s get started, shall we?”