I stayed up later than I should have fixing my rocket boot and building a computer. Once it was up and active I ordered the materials I needed for some high grade tools. When they arrived I’d be able to upgrade the jetpack for offensive weaponry. It emptied the bank account, but I’d put the cash in tomorrow. Claim I got it babysitting or something if the bank asked.



Perhaps I could add some more features to my implants as well. I already had the ingredients for some SlowMo, just needed a way to inject it properly. It would be most effective if applied directly to the brain, so some sort of containment unit in my skull would be a good idea…



I really shouldn’t have made myself a mobile phone while I was at it, not considering how late it got. I made it to wirelessly interface with my neural implant, for on the fly adjustments to my mental state, and so I could program in some extra features. I’d need to add some targeting software to both implants before I could reliably aim the legs of my jetpack…



It was four AM when I went to sleep, and I needed to get up at seven to get to the PRT building at eight. My alarm woke me, and I put on my mask before wandering into the kitchen and making myself a breakfast of two minute noodles.



My power suggested healthier things; things at the root of the Human Augmentation tree. All basic health care, foods I could make to boost my metabolism and build musculature, that sort of thing. I ignored it. A little further up the Human Augmentation tree was full body replacement, I hadn't reached it yet, but one day I'd be building a bionic body from scratch, then making a full brain transplant. I didn’t have access to the blueprints yet, just the vague descriptions my power gave when I looked further up the trees, but I was already drooling over the concept. I’d never been particularly attached to the body I had, and considering the ‘infiltration’ tag on the description, I think the bionic body had perfectly normal looking eyes. Hopefully it was also anatomically accurate, but, honestly, there were things I was willing to give up.



The noodles gurgled in an otherwise empty stomach, making me realize I missed dinner last night as I strapped on the jetpack.



Interestingly, I was starting to get ideas on how to combine my two tech trees, even if they hadn’t linked into each other. Ways to internalize the jetpack’s components, ways to run the kinetic pulses down my arms. The ideas weren’t the crystal clarity of a blueprint I had bought, or the vague description of a blueprint further up the tree. I think it was what a normal tinker might have. Inspiration, lost if it wasn’t acted on. Things I could probably make if I worked at it, but I’d need to fill certain gaps with my own, woeful, scientific knowledge. Or improvise in ways that I wouldn’t fully understand.



I’d have to try it later, once I had enough materials to waste some. Or never. I’d made plans before, of how to build myself what I would need to fight the Nine. I always stumbled on something new. Despite six months planning I still hadn’t been able to explore my tech trees. The knowledge of what they contained faded rapidly if I wasn’t looking at them, even the descriptions would leave my mind if I didn’t focus on them. I had the knowledge I’d unlocked, a general idea of what was next, the ability to glance ahead to judge where to stick my points, and that was about it.



Flying to the PRT office wasn’t an issue, and this time they had an officer waiting downstairs for me. I was escorted upstairs to the directors office, and only had to wait a few minutes before the director called me in.



I’d seen the director before. Read about her. I’d looked up information on the Wards quite carefully. I’d even managed to make a friendly pen-pal out of Kid Win on PHO. I think he suspected I was a tinker. We mostly talked about tech, and while I kept the topics off any trees I had invested in… tinkers have some fairly predictable conversation tendencies. Still, he didn’t know what state I was in, so my anonymity was all but guaranteed, and he’d provided some valuable insights into how tech was classified as ‘safe’ by the PRT.



In other words, there was no way in hell I was ever submitting any of my tech for review. I knew it was safe, my power assured me of that, but they’d never let me stick stuff into my head unless they tested it first. I didn’t have the time for that, and their forms of testing wouldn’t work either. Animal testing was out. It was Human Augmentation, not Animal Augmentation… though that wasn’t too far off, and some of the branches connected, it wouldn’t be hard to make some cyborg guard dogs…



Piggot was seated at her desk, and Armsmaster was standing in the corner of the room when I entered.



Blast. I hadn’t been kidding about having a serious case of hero worship. Armsmaster was only a Ward when the Slaughterhouse was last in the Bay, but he was given partial credit for the death of Chuckles, when the Slaughterhouse was eventually driven out. It was like having Dragon herself standing in the corner, staring at me.



I'd told that to the receptionist last time. There was no way it didn't get passed up the chain. They'd maneuvered for advantage. Fortunately, I could fix that. I took out my phone, isolated the neural connections related to excitement and respect, and dampened them.



Mental note, keep up a respectful act anyway. It wouldn’t pay to antagonize the PRT, and I still had logic. Just think about everything from a logical standpoint, don’t act on the sudden void of emotions. Channel Spock.



“Sudden inspiration?” Armsmaster asked.



“A few tweaks to my programming, sorry about the delay.” I told him. He nodded, his eyes roaming over my tech, as my own mask’s sensors locked onto his.



I didn’t have the specialties I needed to really get a good idea of his armor, but I could pick up bits and pieces of it’s function. There were small rams in his boots, designed to throw him a fair distance if directed into the ground, and the suit would lock up to disperse the force over his whole body. I should do something like that with my own rocket boots, I’d already planned to replace my legs, some sort of pre-programmed lock after a certain amount of kinetic energy was registered, flexible internal bracing, and a shock absorbent mount onto a restructured pelvis…



“Your implanted technology is much more advanced than the tech you’re wearing.” Armsmaster said.



Of course it was, I’d gone a fair distance up the Human Augmentation tree, but I was only just past strapping a glider to my back in the Aviation tree. It was why the boots and the jetpack still failed fairly often, I was overreaching, trying to climb higher than I was really ready for. I’d unlocked blueprints in a straight line up, without the sort of… supporting framework that the lower blueprints and skills provided.



“Well yeah, I wanted to be sure anything I stuck in my body worked.” I told Armsmaster. “That’s not really the issue though, I don’t want to go into my power at the moment. It isn’t what I’m here for.”



“It is an issue. Do you know your specialty?” Armsmaster asked.



Blunt, but that was something I liked about him. He cut through the bullshit. If I thought he could do that for me, help me actually tinker what I needed without the PRT’s stupid rules, I’d sign right up. He didn’t do it for Kid Win though, probably couldn’t, the Wards were always held to a different standard. After all, it wasn’t like the government would ever trust anyone under the age of eighteen with super-weapons, even if they were the ones who made them.



“Human Augmentation.” I admitted. It was the field I had the most energy invested in right now, and that wasn’t likely to change. It was a good field. It covered offense, defense, was the closest thing I had to a medical specialty…



If Jack was slow enough in turning up I might even be able to save my sister with it. Probably not. Dangerous to try. I'd figured long ago that the closest I'd get to saving her would be a hug while my reactors went critical.



I turned to face Piggot. She’d been saying something. Let’s see, rewind the last few seconds from my mask…



“I sort of have a name, yeah.” I told her. “I don’t think H+ is taken.”



Piggot looked at Armsmaster.



“H+ is the symbol for the conceptual opposite of an electron, also the symbol for a hydron, a cationic form of atomic hydrogen, and the symbol for the transhuman movement, a small group of people who feel humanity should work to improve the human condition through wide availability of sophisticated technologies to enhance intellectual, physical, and psychological capacities, in order to overcome physical limitations.”



“It’s the third one. In case you couldn’t guess.” I told them. I could still feel embarrassment. Easy to fix though. I took out my phone and started tapping.



“The transhuman movement has no popular support at the moment, due to tinkertech not being replicable, and the widespread and dominant nature of parahumans. The destructive impact of parahumans on society has lead to the belief that transhumans would only make the situation worse.” Armsmaster continued.



I sighed. It was… something that probably wouldn't happen. A dream, for if everything went perfectly. It would be years before I had the sort of tech to back up that name, and I didn't expect to get years, but I did have some impressive blueprints further up the tree. A fully automated surgery with a weak AI running the whole thing was a blueprint I planned to get eventually, when I had the energy for it, but even then, I’d need to build the surgery myself, and maintain it. Much higher than that, year and years of energy away, was the really exciting stuff. Self replicating nano-tech. Strong AI. Entire factories for the production of posthuman technologies…



Fucking Simurgh would probably get to me first. Better to just take out the squishier members of the Nine with a suicide bomb. That would be a good way to go. Still, Jack wouldn't get near if he knew that was the plan. May as well at least keep up the pretense of hope for the future.



“Still, I like the idea, and I think it’s a cool name.” I told Piggot. She didn’t smile, in fact her lips became a thin line, but that seemed to be her default state.



“Very well then H+, you wanted to meet me, what would you like to see me about?”



“About a week ago, I hacked into the Winslow Public School computer system. I only looked at a few documents, and I sent them an anonymous email later, telling them how to patch their security leak, but I was… curious about something, so when I noticed one particular email, I opened it. Here is a printout.”



My jetpack had a small storage compartment, between the pack itself and my back. I took a few sheets of paper out of it, and handed it to Piggot, she took them, scanned them, and scowled. It was pretty damning. Sophia’s case worker was quite plainly asking Blackwell to cover the whole thing up. Piggot should have access to police and hospital reports, and I didn’t want her to know that I hacked those systems as well, so… that should be it.



Piggot read the email carefully, and I could see the blood rising in her face as she figured out what it was referring to.



“I assure you, there will be an investigation into this.” Piggot said, pushing the paperwork aside. “However, this raises an issue. You now know the secret identity of a Ward, and she is still a Ward, at least until this investigation finishes.”



“I assure you, I don’t intend to out Sophia. I’ve come to you, and I’ll keep quiet about this, let you deal with it in house. I just thought it was something you should know.”



Piggot nodded.



“Good. I’ll have some forms printed for you to sign, and we’ll overlook how you came by this information.”



I shook my head.



“If you want to take me to court for hacking the school computers, you can, and you have my word I won’t out Shadow Stalker just for this, but I’m not giving you…” I paused, cart blank something, a legal term, how was it pronounced? “…the legal right to just sweep this all under a rug. Sorry.”



Saying that was a mistake, in hindsight. I blame the lack of sleep.



“Disclosing the identity of a Ward is a crime.”



“Not if the Ward has been abusing their status in their civilian identity to the point it lead to their discovery.”



“Actually, parahuman law states… ” Armsmaster began.



“I’m talking about the spirit of the law. Not the letter.” I told him.



Piggot’s eyes narrowed.



“Mr… H+, you don’t seem to realize the seriousness of using a parahuman ability to enter a government system.”



“I realize that a court case like that would be a nightmare for you.” I told her seriously.



Piggot glared at me, but relented.



“Very well, the problem is moot so long as you become a Ward. The non-disclosure agreement is less binding, and there are procedures for whistle-blowing that you can follow should you feel the need to, though I strongly recommend that you come to me first with any concerns.”



I shook my head.



“I have no desire to be a Ward. So that’s also out. Sorry.”



Piggot sighed, and then nodded to Armsmaster.



“Adam Truant,” Armsmaster said, as if it was some huge pronunciation. “Your spending habits have been under observation for some time. A normal teenager has no need of industrial chemicals in the quantities you purchase. It’s easy enough to link your physical description and school photos to your costumed identity. Your mask covers less than a third of your face. Your mask is a blindfold for goodness sake, and the Bay is hardly swarming with blind teenagers.”



I shrugged.



“I know about the unwritten rules. It would be a violation of them to spread information on my civilian ID.”



“If we can find this information then it’s possible that other organizations could do the same. A tinker without a support framework is not going to be able to say no when one of the gangs tries to recruit you.” Piggot declared, she had winced slightly at my name. Guess she remembered it. Good memory on that woman.



“I’m mixed color, and I’m not Asian. I stay well away from drugs. I should be fine.” I told her.



“You are not noticeably black, and Kaiser would be willing to overlook family history for a tinker. Especially a possible biotinker. Coil is an ongoing concern, known to use tinkertech, the Merchants would not wait for you to come to them, and Lung is also… flexible in regards to his parahuman recruits. Adam. You. Are. Not. Safe.” Piggot stressed.



“And that is my problem to worry about.” I told her.



“You lied earlier, about your specialty. What is it really?” Armsmaster said.



I frowned. How did he know that? An examination of my gear? I guess the jetpack wasn’t really human augmentation, he might be able to pick that up.



“I don’t know. Human Augmentation is my best guess.” I said.



“Another lie.” Armsmaster said.



I back-peddled. I wasn’t liking the looks of this.



“You’re right, sorry. I shouldn’t have lied to you. I want to conceal the exact nature of my power. I don’t trust you enough to fully disclose it. Be assured, Human Augmentation is a pretty good description of how I plan to use this power, the only person I plan to modify at the moment is myself.”



“And you’ve already done this?” Piggot asked. “You’ve… altered yourself in some way.” She was tapping away at her computer, probably looking something up. Her eyebrows were rising.



Wonder what she was reading.



“Neural and spinal chips, designed to help me interface with my tech.” I told her. “Nothing too extensive yet.” No need to mention the emotion alteration. People got all confused over that sort of thing.



Armsmaster nodded to Piggot, who had gone pale.



“Adam. There is a note on your file. A recent attachment. Sophia made a query on why you were publicly telling others about your past. Why would you do that?”



Armsmaster had some way to tell if I was lying, and saying I wanted to lure the Slaughterhouse to this city would be… very bad, so…



“I’d prefer not to answer that.” I told her.



“Adam. This is important. Can you create bioweapons?” Piggot asked, her eyes locked on my mask.



“I'd prefer not to answer that.”



Piggot nodded politely, steeped her hands, and pressed a button under her desk with her foot. An alarm blared.



“H+. You are under arrest for using a parahuman ability to gain illegal access to government systems. Your confession will be taken into account, and you are reminded that any attempt to share the information you gained will be considered a further crime. Your legal guardian will be summoned, and if you do not have a lawyer, one will be assigned to you…”



I couldn’t feel fear right now, but I could feel dejection.



“You’re really doing this?” I asked her. “I tell you about an ongoing problem, I refuse to be strong-armed into the Wards, and now you try this?”



“I believe you to be a clear and present danger to this city. I will do what I have to do.” Piggot told me, nodding to Armsmaster.



“Wait, wait…” I said, holding my hands up. This was… not how I thought things would go. Honestly, I didn’t care about Taylor enough to go through this shit. I’d thought I could get Sophia in trouble, clear everything up, get rid of the nagging urge to leave my lab and brighten up the girl's day in one simple trip. Not this.



Still, backing down now was less of an option than I wanted it to be.



“A phone call. Let me make a phone call, and I’ll go quietly.” I said.



“You’re lying.” Armsmaster said.



I twisted, kicking at him and flaring the kinetic thrusters in my boot. It wasn’t a strong pulse, weak enough not to break my ankle anyway, but it would have knocked him over if it hit. It didn’t. He saw the attack coming, pushed my leg aside easily with his halberd, deflecting the pulse into the wall. He started towards me, closing the distance in two large strides.



I activated the boot I was standing on, a stronger pulse this time, strong enough I felt something in my ankle click and pop as I launched over the desk and Piggot, and activating the jetpack to steady me before I hit the floor.



Piggot’s office had a large window, tinkertech glass, bulletproof according to my power. A quick slash with my lightsabre cut a round hole in it. Armsmaster was already around the desk, but I could fly, he couldn’t, and we were three stories up.



Piggot grabbed one of the jetpack's four legs, pulling me back into the building. She was heavier than I could easily lift, so I drained the last second of juice in the lightsabre in a quick backwards swipe, taking that leg off the jetpack. I could fly with just three. Not well, but this was the PRT, the only fliers they had to send after me were Kid Win and Aegis, and with a little luck both of them should be on their way to school.



I leaped out the window and dipped, losing height to gain thrust. I wanted to be gone from here. Stupid PRT. I’d call Coil, try to get him to send a van around to my lab and pick up everything he could. Move out and work for the villain until I had the tech I needed to strike out on my own.



My mask affords a three hundred and sixty degree view, so I was able to see Armsmaster carefully aim his Halberd, and juke to the side to get out of way as he fired a grappling hook from it. Armsmaster leaped from the window, and I was able to get some good insights into rocket technology from the way his own miniature jetpack activated and launched him after me.



He was still using fuel for rocket thrusters. Very efficient fuel, but he wouldn’t be able to fly long term with that, just short bursts. Better acceleration than me though. I needed a bit more distance…



The grappling hook retracted, and a quick snap of Armsmaster's halberd wound the cable around two more of my jetpack legs, catching them.



I twisted, tried to untangle the cable, only to get punched in the face as Armsmaster reeled himself in.



Mid air maneuvers with two grappling combatants, three kinetic thrusters, and a rocket pack would have been a nightmare. One I wasn't ready for. I had no illusions of being able to take on Armsmaster himself.



Would it be safe to activate Mayhem Protocol this high up? There was a few seconds of blackout before it fully activated. Armsmaster didn't have a lot of juice left, but he'd probably keep us steady…



“Mayhem Protocol. Objectives: survival, esca…”



It was probably quite fortunate that Armsmaster’s next punch tazed me before I finished the activation sequence.