Chapter 57: Non-ethically collected and repurposed grey matter
13th of May, 2011
Brockton Bay, Brockton Bay General Hospital
"A-Ahem, Miss Bonesaw, ma'am?" The visibly uncomfortable secretary squeaks out from behind her desk while doing her best impression of a cornered mouse despite my current chaperone.
I squint a little in her direction, trying to jog my memory. I can't seem to recall if she's the same I interacted with for the past two days or not.
Eventually giving up after a beat of tense silence that overextends its welcome, I tilt my head slightly to the side while asking "Yes?".
"A-Ah, tha-at is to say…" The woman trails off, her eyes darting between my chaperone, Sibby and me a couple of times as sweat pearls on her brows, "I have a message here that says…" She clears her throat, "That Medhall sent a bunch of supplies for you… andthatthey'restillgettingunloadedontheparkinglotsattheback?"
I blink a couple of times, thoroughly squash the urge to ask if she's asking me about it or what, then opt for the most pertinent question I can think of.
"Ah, good. Could someone show us where those are then? I don't really know my way around here, you see?" I answer with a smile while rocking a little on the ball of my feet.
"I know." My chaperone simply says, his tone neutral as he adds, "This way."
"Alright." I nod before waving at the clearly terrified woman, "Thanks for the help! Bye Miss Secretary!"
I don't quite catch what she's mumbling as I start scampering in Armsmaster's wake while holding my Big Sister's hand.
I was quite surprised when I met face-to-helmet with the man earlier. Honestly, I still am! I guess they only needed Assault to make the first contact and that his now-healed wife and him are more effective as a duo of boots on the ground than the local Protectorate leader…
I squint a little at his armor while thoughtfully humming under my breath.
It isn't the one he was wearing during the battle two days ago, if what I recall is correct. He probably has a bunch of tinkering to do to go back at 100% battle efficiency…
"Hey!" I call as I finally manage to catch up to him, prompting him to side-eye me, "I know it's probably not super ideal for you, but if you want to tinker some blueprints while playing nanny for me today while I'm patching up people, feel free!"
There, a nice gesture so that he doesn't dislike me on principle for wasting his time.
His steps almost halts but he somehow manages not to stumble.
His head turns away from mine and I almost pout at being ignored-
"Thank you for your… Consideration." He answers, seemingly pausing to taste the word, "... I was the one who requested today's posting."
I reel back, my surprise momentarily overwhelming me before trading a look with Sibby who merely gives me a one-shoulder shrug.
"Assault and Battery as a team can do more than I can alone and I'm still feeling the aftermath of facing Leviathan." He quickly adds.
"Oh, that makes more sense!" I relax and nod back, "Miss Dragon, dear Pari and you held it at bay for close to three minutes. It probably did a number on you."
"... Quite." He agrees, a hint of something in his voice.
Not bitterness, no. Not even anger, I think. Something more like… Shame?
Rah! I don't know! The man is extremely difficult to read!
The Tinker opens a backdoor and we step on the parking lot at the back of the Brockton Bay General.
It doesn't take long for the three of us to find the truck stamped Medhall currently getting emptied by two orderlies and who I suppose is the driver. They go all very still when they see who approaches. I imagine the only reason they don't instantly bolt is that I'm flanked by seven feet of easily identifiable blueberry local hero.
"Hi!" I enthusiastically wave with a big smile, "A little birdie told us that we got some supplies sent our way to help put people back together! Could we-" I alternatively point between Armsmaster and I, "-get a look at the list of items delivered, pretty please?"
The impromptu trio trades a tense look full of 'not it' until the driver seems to slump a little, pulling his gloves off as he starts making his way toward his cabin with a muttered 'this way' quickly followed by an even lower pitched 'not paid enough for this'.
It's admittedly a bit of a struggle not to start sniggering.
"Thanks!" I chirp back at him to his supreme and very visible discomfort as he hands me a clipboard like it is a black mamba.
"Would you care for a look too, Mister Armsmaster?" I politely ask my chaperone.
"Thank you, Bonesaw." The man answers while taking a step closer as I angle the clipboard just right for the both of us to simultaneously read it.
I tune out my surroundings a little as I start making a mental list of what I can use to create more of my Nanobiotics while rapidly flipping through the pages, before eventually nodding to myself.
"Sibby? I need a free hand." I tell my Big Sister who placidly nods back, boredom positively wafting around her as she lets go of my hand to place her own on my shoulder.
I give her a quick smile before bringing two fingers to my mouth to let out a sharp whistle.
"What did you do?" The other Tinker in the parking lot asks while straightening a little.
"Called some of my Little Helpers." I answer distractedly while making a show of looking around as I wait for them to show up, "If that's amenable to you, I'm going to have them secure what I need to tinker more healing goop and start laying the groundwork by themselves while I make the first part of my round. I'd rather check the temporary fixes I made on the villains I healed during the fight than just be another pair of busy hands for something they can do themselves."
"I see." He answers, his tone still awfully neutral, "That is the same technology you shared with Dragon, correct?"
I give him a little smile and a strong nod.
"Yes! It should be able to help tons of people here and in the future, but I was awfully bottlenecked by my dwindling reserves of chemicals!" I happily chatter while letting myself fall against my Big Sister, "I still haven't had the time to iterate on my current prototype though, those last few days have been awfully busy-busy and I'm loath to cut down on my sleep schedule anymore that I need to!"
"I have some stimulants to help with that." The man says.
Not a rebuke or a remark, but more like a polite observation formulated in the most neutral way possible.
"I do too but, urgh, I hate using those things!" I pull a face, "They make me feel all loopy after a few days! No, I'd rather take the necessary downtime to properly let my brainy bits cool down."
"Your brain is still young." The Tinker observes, "I suppose it would be better if you did not abuse them."
The driver, still present and probably feeling incredibly out of place, throws him his best 'no shit' look of disbelief.
Eh.
I giggle a little behind my hand, eyes all crinkled up.
"Mister Assault was wrong, you're funny too!" I deliver my judgement.
I can almost feel the puzzled look the Tinker gives me behind his visor.
"How so?" He asks.
Luckily, I'm saved from having to explain to the man with worse social skills than my own, which is saying something, why I find his laserlike focus entertaining by the skittering and warbling of my Little Helpers as they converge on our position.
Most of the people either working or relaxing on the parking lot not-quite freeze as my W40K-inspired mechanical horrors make their ways with a copious amount of freerunning and parkour feats.
Poor driver-man looks two seconds away from pissing himself and I probably would feel a little bad about it if I wasn't ninety percent certain that he was a Nazi.
"Steve! Cassandra!" I clip while taking a step forward, one tiny fist bundled against while the other waves the clipboard in front of me.
Two of my little helpers skitters forward, the others parting like the red sea in front of Moses to let them through in an unnerving show of coordination entirely backed by yours truly.
"Listen here," I start while crouching, distractedly smoothing a crease in my dress with my free hand while I angle the clipboard in front of their optics, "You and your subordinates are going to gather components for me so that I can fix people afterward! I'm going to need-" I start rattling a seemingly unending list of very greek and latin sounding nouns in various amounts.
I eventually finish enumerating everything I need to my Little Helpers and take a big gulp of air and I don't need to look at Sibby to know that she has a little amused smile on her face.
"You got all that?" All my Little Helpers nod and I beam back at them, quickly patting once the two designated leaders before standing up, "You can help those nice people opening the cardboard boxes, but no pushing!" I sternly add with a finger wag, "You'll bring everything to…"
I trail off, blink a couple times, then turn myself to give Armsmaster my best confused look since I don't really know if I can just tinker something here.
I sure hope I can, because it's going to be a pain in the butt if I need to bring everything back to my lair, tinker more Nanobiotics in my increasingly cramped living space, then finally bring it back here.
"Would a hard tent placed here suffice?" Luckily, the man is on the ball and proposes a solution after only a short beat of awkward silence.
"Like those used by the military?" I ask back with a cocked head, earning a curt nod as an answer, "It should do the trick, yes. Although I'm going to need a bunch of sealed biowaste containers, to make my healing goop in big batches!" I pause, then add, "Would you like to lend a hand?"
It takes him a solid second to process the query.
"Cooperation between tinkers is always an interesting process." He answers.
Translation: flip yeah, I do!
"Great!" I chirp back, before turning away from him and handing his clipboard back to the driver, still quite busy pretending he doesn't exist in the same dimension Sibby and I live in, "Thank you for your help, Mister Driver!"
I tune out his answer to give a few last warnings to 'be nice' and 'not to poke people with sharp implements if they slack off' to my Little Helpers before about-facing and start making my way back to the Brockton Bay General proper, Sibby's hand slipping back into mine as the Protectorate Tinker steps on my other side, looking marginally more relaxed than before.
"Could I count on your help to secure the tools needed to work my magic while I make my round, Mister Armsmaster?" I conversationally ask him.
"I should be able to reroute some of the PRT supplies, since your healing falls down under the Truce's umbrella." He answers, before side-eyeing me, "Those… Little Helpers of you. They are interesting."
"They're the best!" I happily gush while skipping, "They help tons in my more ambitious projects! No offense, but I don't know how other Tinkers do with only a measly one - one! - pair of hands!"
"We take longer." The man answers a little flatly, "Or, in my case, I use repurposed assembly line robots."
"Oh! That's a good idea! I approve!" I give him a big nod.
"If you don't mind me asking, how do they work?" He peers back at me.
"Oh, they're just an overall upgrade on the design I came up with during my time with the Nine. At the time, I had to… Well, use non-ethically collected and repurposed grey matter to make them." I start through pursed lips, "But I have since found a way to clone my own brain tissues after arriving in the Bay! They work way, way better now that they all share the same biological makeup and I managed to standardize their learning process! I also updated their sensory arrays and included a bunch of circuitry to turn them from fully biological to bioprocessors! They're able to learn a lot faster than they previously did nowadays!"
I mean, I know I'm controlling them 24/7, but my Technopathy has that particular tendency to slip a little when I'm engrossed in a project, yet they always seem to know what they need to do and where they're needed. Sure, the brainwave pattern synchronization helps a lot with that, but I still wager that they'd be battle- and surgery ready in barely a fraction of the time I used to spend teaching their predecessors if I did it verbally and through show-and-tells like I used to!
"I mean, they're basically my bread and butter." I give a little shrug, "They help me tinkering and can help me defend myself if someone gets some idea. It seemed like a good idea to improve on them."
"Cloning, you said?" The Tinker not-quite asks.
"I had a very big breakthrough in stem cell manipulation shortly after coming here. You and your superior will probably be very happy to learn that I didn't have to kill anybody or rob a morgue to tinker in weeks!" I inform him with a big, proud smile.
The man looks back at me, then stiffly looks away.
"Hey! Rude!" I pout behind his back as he powerwalks through the hospital's corridors.
Sibby's chuckle-purr next to me doesn't really help my mood.