Herald Chapter Five

Herald

Chapter Five

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“So, does anyone want to tell me what the hell just happened, and why that young woman is here?” Director Piggot asked, rather more calmly than she felt, as the looping footage on one of the conference room’s large screens went into slow motion, showing Herald flaying Squealer’s truck-tank with her flame-whips, slowly and precisely peeling it open to get at the Tinker inside. The screen beside it showed the girl in question, still enjoying her lollipop, leaning against the wall of a ‘interview room’ with her feet up on the table. Her left hand, the one not occupied with her sweet treat, was twirling in the air in front of her, a small shroud of fog dancing around it. Fog that seemed to have small flashes of lightning inside of it, now that she got a closer look.

“Merchants came, saw, got conquered.” Assault quipped, utterly unaffected by the groans around the table and the sour look Piggot shot him. The former villain had always rubbed the Director the wrong way, with his laissez-faire attitude and inability to take things seriously. He had never really cared about her opinion one way or another. “Then the girl with the talent for literal body art waltzed up to the front desk and asked for a chat.”

“Yes, thank you, Assault.” Piggot grits out, resisting the urge to rub her forehead in exasperation, something she has had plenty of practice doing ever since she got assigned to this god-forsaken city. “What I meant was: what did she do to the Merchants, and what does she want to discuss with us?”

“Without more data, gathered either through further observations or actual power-testing, I can only speculate to the exact nature of Herald’s abilities. However, given what has been witnessed by Wards and full Protectorate members, I believe her to be some manner of Trump with a focus on controlling the elements.” Armsmaster explained, bringing up various images on the looping screen. One showed the fire whips, another the fog, and a third the immobile-but-driving van. “It seems logical to me, with the fire and fog being self-evident, and the van perhaps being held in place by manipulation of the air around it. I will note, however, that none of our analysts, myself, nor Dragon have an explanation for how she was able to precisely target so many bullets simultaneously with the whips. Several of the analysts are of the opinion she might be a ‘grab bag’ as well.”

Several people in the room shifted slightly, glancing at one another with thoughtful faces as they considered this evaluation. Grab-bag capes weren’t common, but neither were they unheard of, and they were always part of a group trigger. Something that both Protectorate and PRT tried to monitor very carefully, given the dangers of the Kiss/Kill principle, and none of them could recall a briefing about a recent group trigger. For that matter, none of them could recall a group trigger where the powers displayed would result in Herald’s shown abilities. Countering them was always difficult given the variety of powers that they held, and the potential arrival of an unbalanced suitor or rival (or more than one, for that matter) was an ever-present concern.

“As for why she is here, she says she wants to talk about joining the Wards, despite being rather dismissive of the idea last night. In my opinion, she is either playing some sort of game, or wanted to make a big splash before joining up. Neither option is particularly endearing.” Battery grumbled, sounding less than thrilled, before throwing her hands up in the air and pointing at the screen depicting the young woman, who was…now smoking a very long pipe (which she definitely hadn’t had before) that appeared to be carved bone. And was that smoke shimmering? “For God’s sake, look at her! Now she’s smoking some sort of Tinkertech drug! Sitting in a PRT interrogation room, after asking to join the Wards?! Its absurd, unthinkable!”

“Battery, Armsmaster, please go have a chat with her. Pipe the audio up here, we’ll route ours into your earbuds.” Piggot instructed, feeling a strong urge to pull out her flask of specially-blended invigoration. She was already getting a headache, and she hadn’t even had to deal with the girl personally yet! “Commander Pike, what do we know about her? I presume you were able to identify her, since she doesn’t wear a mask?”

“Yes Ma’am. If everyone could please open the black folders in front of you.” Pike, an older man who was fair-haired and tall, with a well-groomed beard on his chin with streaks of silver through-out, stood and began to manipulate the conference room’s screens and displays with the ease of long practice. A thirty-year veteran of law enforcement, he was the most experienced man in the city, and arguably the whole of the East Coast. Bringing up an image of the smirking girl from her student I.D., he started briefing the room. ”Taylor Ann Hebert, Age 15, born and raised her in Brockton Bay. Parents Daniel George and Annette Rose, nee Rosenfeldt. One surviving grandparent, Rosemary Taylor Rosenfeldt, her maternal grandmother, who is Founder and Chairwoman of the Rosenfeldt Biomedical Conglomerate.”

There was a murmur at that, because the Rosenfeldt dynasty had been around for decades and was almost obscenely wealthy, and highly influential. They were popular fodder for conspiracy theorists, given the lack of solid knowledge about the two women that had founded the organization and the revolutionary medical and technological breakthroughs that they had produced in a rather short time frame. Theories abounded from the reasonable (they had been a pair of brilliant women with a talent for recruiting other brilliant people) to the bizarre (they were travelers from another Earth that was more technologically advanced, comic-book style) to the absurd (they were Scion’s children, the first two Tinkers that had somehow appeared before Scion had).

“Mr. Hebert is the Head of Hiring for the Dockworker’s Association, though I will note that, given the in-all-but-name abandonment of the region by the city government and his own nominal superiors, he has significantly more influence over the organization than that would otherwise imply. Indeed, he is the de facto leader of the DWA, and the people living in the Docklands look to him for guidance on a regular basis.” The image of the father, a very tall and wiry man that was clearly, if not blatantly, muscled from years of hard labor. Warm brown eyes with hazel flecks and short-cropped greying brunette hair wouldn’t have done much to set him apart from anyone else on the street, if not for the strength that seemed to linger behind that unwavering gaze. Hana couldn’t help but blush slightly as she ‘met’ that gaze, her own eyes tracing a strong and clean-shaven jaw and broad shoulders. “Not much of a record, outside of a few dropped complaints for assault and harassment by individuals who turned out to be gang members or other troublemakers. Some rabble rousing when he was younger, but nothing worth mentioning.”

In most cities, such a small and benign record wouldn’t do more than get a raised eyebrow. In Brockton Bay, hellhole that it was, it was (as Pike had said) not particularly worth mentioning. Everyone got into some trouble as a kid, whether or not the police ever heard about it, and running gang bangers off of ‘his’ turf wasn’t going to draw any fire from anyone in this room!

“Mrs. Hebert is the Dean of Literature and Language at Boston University, and has been for several years now. Well-respected, highly-regarded, and one of the most sought-after Professors in the state. Occasionally tours colleges both local and distant, advising on teaching and organizational methods.” Pike said, switching over to Taylor’s mother, and it immediately became apparent to everyone that if Taylor go her height from her father, everything else came from her mother. Long, luxurious and gently wavy black hair hung down her back, expressive eyes and a broad, kind smile. She was beautiful in every classical sense of the word, and more than a few minds had the same thought: No wonder there was such competition to get into on of her classes! She may well be a damn fine educator, but most college students wouldn’t have been lining up just for that! “Its obviously unusual for a Dean of such a large department at so famous a University to still personally teach in the classroom, but Mrs. Hebert has refused outright to give up the lectern. She evidently enjoys the act of actually teaching to much to switch entirely over to administration.”

“Admirable, I suppose, and all of this is very interesting background, but could we focus on the girl? Is there anything else of significance about her parents, or not?” the Director interjected when he paused, sounding politely irritated with what she saw as an unnecessary delay.

“Only that her mother was a high-ranking member of Lustrum’s Free Woman movement, but she left when she met Mr. Hebert, who was in the process of being harassed and abused by some of the more…radical elements of the movement. Both wrote several letters to the Judge and Jury presiding over Lustrum’s Birdcage trial protesting her treatment and offering evidence to her total lack of involvement and disapproval of the maimings and assaults that later occurred, but the court refused to hear them. I leave any decisions about such information’s significance to you, Director.” Pike responded blandly, the total lack of censure or irritation in his own voice a censure in and of itself, and Piggot grimaced slightly before nodding minutely.

A short overview of the girl’s life followed. Friendly, popular, wickedly smart with a sense of humor that could be as endearing as it could savage, a dancer of not-insignificant ability despite her youth, and well-trained in marksmanship and a round dozen martial arts. The only times she had ever gotten in trouble for anything was by sticking up for others, usually against bullies and usually by breaking the nose of the bully in question.

“Jesus, this reads like the biography for the main character of a teen action-drama series, complete with Mary Su perfection and stunning looks.” Elara Dorne, Commander of Strike Team Havok, groaned as she pushed the file away and rubbed her temples in frustration. “Top of her class in every subject, every year that it’s actually been ranked. Popular without being the ‘Queen Bee’ archtype, a leader without letting it go to her head, and apparently able to kick ass wholesale. Krav Maga, Mixed Martial Arts, Sambo, Jiu Jitsu, Muay Thai, Judo, Pankration?!I don’t even know what that is!”

“Ancient Greek MMA, basically. Was an Olympic event for over a thousand years, and it was taught to soldiers as their standard unarmed combat method. Brutal, very brutal, though not as much as Krav Maga. You weren’t taught to rip someone’s balls off or gouge their eyes out, for one. They’re actually trying to bring it back as an Olympic sport on Aleph.” Sophia remarked absently from where she was pouring over the file. The room stared at her for a moment, surprised briefly that she would actually know ancient history, before almost simultaneously realizing that it shouldn’t have been surprising. Of course the volatile and combative former vigilante knew about ancient and brutal methods of taking someone apart with your bare hands!

“Are we sure none of this data is falsified, Commander Pike?” Piggot asked after a thoughtful contemplation, and he shook his head firmly and without hesitation. Sighing, she nodded and pushed her own folder away before turning back to the screens as the interview door room opened and the duo of Battery and Armsmaster stepped into view.

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“Finally finished reading my file and chatting about me, eh? About time, I was getting bored, even with this little pick-me-up.” Taylor greeted the two older heroes as they stepped into the room, gesturing slightly with her anaris’addin-filled pipe, blowing a smoke ring out of her mouth that took on a shimmering rainbow hue. “Honestly, I keep you from losing that smelly fellow I captured last night, kept any of your people from getting hurt, and rescued a Tinker for you to detox and recruit, but this is the thanks I get? Sitting here in this tiny room with nothing but your cameras and myself for company?”

“Miss Hebert, I’m going to need you to hand that over to me. Narcotic use, especially manufactured narcotics, is unacceptable in anyone, especially a prospective Ward.” Armsmaster, uptight fellow that he was, held out his hand with what was probably meant to be a stern and authority-laden look on his face. Frankly, it just made him look like a B-roll actor from a low-budget military film. Not particularly impressive, she mused to herself as she deliberately tapped the mouthpiece on her lip with an exaggerated look of consideration. He needs a bit of work to get out of that shell of his, if he wants to get anywhere in life.

“I’m hurt, dreadfully hurt, that you should suspect me of degrading myself with such poisons, my dear Armsmaster! Honestly, to malign my delightful natural remedies and incenses by comparing them to the trash Skidmark peddled!” she gave a theatrical sniff and sigh, tilting her head away with a pout. “I will have you know that the medicinal and recreational uses of my creations are unparalleled and without side-effect!”

“Really? Smoking something that shimmers and changes color is healthy and doesn’t have side-effects?” Battery asked sardonically, folding her arms over her chest with a glower. “Hand it over, Herald. It’s unbecoming.”

“Oh, very well, but I had best get that pipe back! Custom made by myself, you know, entirely unique!” Taylor sighed again, twirling the pipe in her hands before handing it over with a flourish. The two adults took a moment to evaluate it. It was beautiful, certainly, carved from some type of bone. Engravings they didn’t recognize decorated its length, and it was inlaid with small gems and what looked like precious metals. “Really, if you don’t want a girl to entertain herself in an ‘unbecoming’ fashion, you ought to chat with her in a timely manner. Or at least give her a decent book to read!”

“Yes, well, most people tend to sit quietly and patiently for us to see them.” Battery responded, pulling out one of the chairs while Armsmaster did the same with the other, putting them face to face with the bottom of Taylor’s boots. After waiting for a half-dozen heartbeats, she sighed. “Would you mind taking your feet of the table so we can have a discussion like civilized adults?”

“Well, since you’re so damn sexy and you asked so nicely, I guess I can. Beautiful and bossy, what more could a girl ask for?” Taylor nodded agreeably with a brilliant smile for the heroine, moving about in her chair as her legs swung down, resettling herself and sitting more-or-less upright in the seat. Once comfortable she returned her attention to two sitting across from her, who were staring at her silently in what looked like surprise. Battery was blushing lightly, mouth hanging slightly, while Armsmaster looked remarkably like something that had just short-circuited. “Oh dear, you’re looking a bit flushed there, my dear Battery. I hope you’re not coming down with something. Perhaps I should take your temperature?”

She half-stood and leaned forward across the counter, one hand reaching for the other woman’s face, but Battery grabbed it and held it down on the table, blush brightening as her expression shifted from shocked to flustered.

“Ms. Hebert, I’m going to need to ask you not to try and touch our faces without invitation. I assure you that Battery is in good health.” Armsmaster requested evenly, one might even say dryly, and she frowned lightly before sitting back.

“Well, if you say so. Her hands are warm and not at all clammy, so I suppose it can’t be anything to serious. Quite strong and soft, actually.” The teen responded, brushing the pad of her thumb along the curve of Battery’s, who looked down and froze again. With a sly smirk and a glint in her eye, Taylor offered. “You know, if you ever need quality care at home, I’m available to be your nurse. I have fantastic scores in Health and Anatomy, and I can take good care of you all. Night. Long~”

“Wards! Why?” Battery shouted, letting go of Taylor’s hand like it had burned her, looking rather luminescent by now and resolutely refusing to look at Armsmaster.

“Why was I interested in joining, you mean?” Taylor asked, and at an unsteady nod shrugged with an easy smile as she reclined a little in her seat. “Well, as much fun as wiping out the Merchant’s in two days was, doing it alone was so dull. Dull, dull, dull! A little company always makes everything better, and there are just so many lovely ladies with you heroes. Don’t get me wrong, Rune is sexy and has the whole ‘bad girl’ vibe going, which is hot as all hell, but the whole ‘racial purity’ thing is a habit she needs to break before she can move up to the head of the line, you know?”

Armsmaster blinked, fully aware that he was missing an undercurrent in this room but at a loss to discover it and baffled by the girl on the other side of the table. She wasn’t like any of the other teenaged capes he had ever met, and he was feeling a bit lost if he was to be honest. Not that she seemed to notice or care for his and Battery’s reactions, as she just kept on talking.

“I mean, how much more fun would it be to kick a bunch of thugs around with some good company? Shadow Stalker has the whole ‘dark action girl’ thing going on for her, and her power is fantastic for fucking with people. Vista? Adorable and terrifying, and unless I miss my guess, she is going to grow up to be gorgeous and terrifying. Battery? Awesome power, awesome look, snarky, and I can’t tell you the number of jokes she could be the punchline for. Miss Militia? Her power is literally all the weapons, her accent is just mmh, and she has the whole refined beauty aspect. Totally my type, but I think she would work even better with my parents. I really need to hook them up. Don’t suppose you know her favorite restaurant? The first date needs to be perfect!”

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An hour of innuendo, flirtations, jokes, and nebulous answers later, the inhabitants watched on the monitors as Herald, potential Ward, strolled out of the front doors with a certain degree of panache. The girl had been insistent that, despite her acknowledgement she had ulterior motives for joining the Wards (seduction, company, and personal amusement), she loved the city and wanted to help save it from the downward spiral it was currently suffering. Battery and Triumph hadn’t been terribly happy with the fact that someone whose main goal for heroism was anything other than being a hero was probably going to join up, but they were also willing to admit that having someone as capable and…well, ruthless as Herald under their nominal control was better than letting her run rampant. Her only sticking points had been keeping the rights to her name if she left, final say on her outfit, and a clause guaranteeing that she couldn’t be transferred out of the ENE branch unilaterally. They would have to bring the lawyers and the PR team in to handle that, but frankly Piggot didn’t give a damn one way or the other if the girl got what she wanted. God knew she wouldn’t sign off on transferring Herald out of the city lightly, not when she was starved for capes already!

“Interesting girl.” Piggot remarked as Hebert finally went out of sight, before sighing and getting to her feet. “I need to send things up the chain to the Chief Director and Head of Public Relations, get them in touch with Mr. and Mrs. Hebert about the Ward contract. Set up a basic watch on her house, just in case anyone unpleasant tries to force a recruitment on her before the contract is signed.”

“Havok will take care of it, Director.” Dorne offered, and Piggot nodded to her in acknowledgment. Permission granted, Dorne looked over to Armsmaster. “When is Enya getting back, Colin? I know she went to visit her friends…?”

“Three more days, according to her approved schedule. I take it you wanted her to be the Protectorate member on duty given the defensive orientation of her powers?” the Protectorate head responded, and when she nodded he tilted his head in the way they all recognized meant he was calling up information on his visor. “Acceptable, once she returns, though I would hope recruitment is complete at that point. In the meantime, I would recommend Hana take the task. It is obvious that Herald holds her in very high regard.”

Leave it to Armsmaster the Oblivious to see no issue with sending Hana, the woman that Herald had announced her intention to set up with her parents, to spend at least half a week in close and likely personal proximity to said girl and parents. If asked, he would doubtless be able to present any number of perfectly logical reasons, but it was just as doubtless that even having the issue explained to him in detail would help him understand it.

“I don’t mind doing that.” Hana said softly, almost mumbled really, before anyone could protest on her behalf. Her cheeks were rosy, her eyes were locked on the table, and her body language radiated rather out-of-character embarrassment. It was, in fact, rather like looking at a teenager getting convinced to talk to the boy she liked, and Piggot barely resisted the urge to groan as her right hand crept up to her temple and rubbed lightly. Hana was supposed to be the responsible one, the careful one, the one that Piggot could actually get along with given their similar opinions of excess power in improper hands! She wasn’t supposed to get this flustered because one kid made a couple of comments!

Turning on her heel, Piggot left the room shaking her head. Capes!

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