56

Chapter 56

A Darker Path

Part Fifty-Six: Welcome to Brockton Bay

[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]

Relevant Side-Stories:

1. Accord's New Plan, by Harper Potts

The Simurgh was dead. That was an indisputable fact. People had poured out into the streets in mass celebration all across the globe. It wasn't yet dawn, but many businesses had already decided to shut down for the day. Most countries in Europe had declared a national holiday. In the streets of Boston the party ongoing would put Mardi Gras in New Orleans to shame. Accord knew the celebration was necessary. Behemoth had put humanity on notice that they were no longer the apex predator. Then came Levithan and the Simurgh. As city after city fell it became clear to everyone that humanity was circling the drain. Now there was suddenly hope. There could be a future. The near riot in the streets was a much needed release. All of his plans would advance more quickly by allowing the celebration to continue. A few calls and nudges in the right ears to make sure the jubilation didn't turn into rioting had been all that was needed.

While the celebration was necessary, it was far too chaotic for Accord to join himself. Instead he sealed himself away in his sanctum where he watched the Fall of the Simurgh over and over. Violence was usually inelegant. There was a reason he preferred traps that disposed of fools without him having to experience the mess of blood and voided bowels. That distaste also applied to watching deaths he didn't cause. Sometimes it was necessary to be able to plan accurately, but it was almost always discomforting. However, watching Atropos end the Simurgh, Accord saw only perfection. Admittedly, the reference to a Loony Tunes cartoon was crass, but he could not deny the elegance. Laughter was a coping mechanism. Atropos didn't merely kill the Simurgh. She destroyed it's power, influence, and legacy.

Even as he watched, plans began to form. He had made a mistake when he ignored Atropos's warning not to deal drugs in Brockton Bay, a horrible, awful, and potentially lethal mistake. He had taken the possibility of failure into account. His plans always had contingencies. The drugs Atropos destroyed were a significant hit, but an he had deemed them an acceptable loss to test Atropos's capabilities. He had been gravely mistaken. He was now certain the only reason Atropos had not ended him then was because she needed his plans.

Needed. While Atropos was the better thinker when it came to ending things, his power was obviously more useful when it came to building things. After all, the easiest way to end poverty in Brockton Bay would be to simply kill all the poor people. Atropos wanted more than that, and had asked for his plan. He had provided her with plans, but only now with the fall of the Simurgh did he realize how short-sighted he had been. Atropos ended things. She didn't build. It wasn't in her nature. She could twist her power to do it somewhat, but she really only cared for her home town. As long as Brockton Bay thrived, the rest of the world could burn as far as she was concerned.

He could use that. No city was an island unto itself. Cities relied on the flow of goods and services. Atropos understood that at some level, but she didn't see that in building a shining city on a hill, she would attract an influx of desperate people seeking opportunity. Brockton Bay would become the new Rome, the new New York. While Atropos was doing things to selfishly save her city, the effects would ripple outward - especially if he planned it to do so.

Accord had stayed out of her Brockton Bay because the sensible thing was not to get in a cage with an angry tiger, but tiger tamers did. Not that Atropos could be tamed, but he needed to be there. Atropos already wanted to rebuild shipping in Brockton Bay, and a rising tide lifted all boats…. No, Adam Smith was a little too simplistic. Archimedes said it best, "Give me a place to stand, and a lever long enough, and I will move the world."

Atropos was the lever and the place to stand was Brockton Bay. Now he just had to approach Atropos with the request to be allowed to relocate to Brockton Bay to better adjust his plan to save the bay - which was true. That it would also improve the world was best left unsaid. He would need to send some of his ambassadors… and avoid meeting face-to-face if at all possible. There was a difference between stepping into the tiger cage and putting your head in its mouth.

2. The Advent of Hades, by Masterweaver

"Wow." Vicky nodded to herself idly, watching the cat-costumed girl spin her body and ribbons in time with the beat. "She's good."

"And she didn't even have lessons before she joined Parian," another voice added.

Vicky turned around, coming face to snout with a blue plush dragon. "Really?"

"Yeah, never had the money," the dragon said. "That's all Bastet's raw talent." She held out a hand. "Spitfire."

"Glory Girl-well. Victoria Dallon." Vicky took the hand and shook it. "I've been thinking about rebranding."

"Oh?"

Vicky's eyes drifted toward the figure in black-only for a moment, before she caught herself. "Yeah, I-things are changing, you know?"

Spitfire followed her gaze, tilting her head when Atropos sent her a subtle wave. "Yeah. For the better, I think."

The tone of warm respect in her face made Vicky scowl. For a moment, but she schooled her expression quickly. "That's... certainly one way to think about it."

Blue lenses stared at her for a long moment.

Then Spitfire flicked her head, indicating quietly that Vicky should follow. She complied, mildly curious, and they stepped... not quite into an alleyway, just inside the entrance, but isolated enough for a private conversation.

"You know, Parian designed this costume," Spitfire began. "Even worked in the mechanisms that let me open and close the mouth. I'm sort of the kid-appeal mascot, I look... cool, but also approachable."

"Public relations," Vicky agreed with a nod. "I can get that."

"Yeah. I mean, it was a little awkward at first, but... I remember how my sister used to light up when her favorite characters showed up on saturday cartoons, you know?"

That set Vicky on the backfoot for a second. Capes didn't normally talk about their home lives, after all.

"I'd like to think she would have liked Spitfire," the dragon continued somberly, ignoring-perhaps deliberately-how disoriented Vicky was all of the sudden. "I mean, she was a bit of an oddball, really. Most girls had a princess phase, but she had a scientist phase. Mad scientist. Used one of dad's dress-up shirts like a labcoat when she was four."

"Um-"

"Yeah, always had the weirdest interests. You know, one afternoon I got home from school, and-well, she could tell I was upset. I'd, uh, made a pass at another girl, but it turned out that girl was Empire, and... you know how little kids will want to help but won't know how? She saw that I was feeling down, so she decided to share some 'fun spider facts', because she'd gotten into entomology recently." Spitfire shook her head. "Did you know black widow silk is incredibly tough? Apparently it'd be nigh impossible to cut through a shirt made of it."

"I, uh, no, I didn't know that."

"Yeah, she had... such a weird collection of facts. It... well, it didn't cheer me up, but it did distract me a little. I was pretty okay by dinnertime." Spitfire took a breath. "But, like I said-I made a pass at an Empire girl. And... I guess she told her pals where I lived, because they firebombed my house."

Vicky inhaled sharply. "I-I'm sorry that happened to you. Really. I-"

"I tried to get her out of there. My parents, they were killed instantly, but my sister-I tried to get her out of there. She was barely hanging on as it was... probably pointless, but I didn't think about it at the time." Spitfire took a breath. "You know how we black out when we trigger? My sister-she was about to say something, and when I came back, she'd passed out in my arms. I used my powers to escape, to get her out, but she... she was gone, two minutes later. And I'll never know what her last words were, because I triggered right before she said them."

An insidious chill trickled through Victoria, gathering in her mind and dripping down her throat before pooling in the breath of her chest. She turned to look at her own sister, talking with the head of the Rogues' Guild, unwillingly imagining herself in that position...

"I understand why people would be uncomfortable around Atropos," Spitfire admitted. "She's brutal, and murderous, and direct. Very direct. But she took out the gangs, which means I'm free to be who I want to be."

Amy blushed suddenly, and Parian stammered something-something that got a quick reply, and a smile. She watched as Parian produced a card and wrote something on it, handing it and the doll to her sister.

"Because of her... nobody in Brockton Bay has to worry about their family being killed just because they flirted with the wrong person."

Vicky's fingers clenched for a moment-

-but the smile on Amy's face cut her to the heart.

She took a breath, forcing herself to relax. "Yeah. I guess... she's not saving people, but she is making people safe, huh?"

"Yep." Spitfire cleared her throat. "And, uh... sorry for bringing all that up, I just-"

"No no, it's... it helped me understand," Vicky replied. "I'll, uh... need some time to process it, is all. Be seeing you."

With that awkward farewell, she broke off from the conversation, quickly schooling her face to its usual cheery demeanor as she approached her sister. "Holy crap, that's gorgeous! How much did that set you back?"

Amy smirked, a light grip on the Panacea doll. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Vicky almost responded-almost-with a sly little quip about young maidens, but then Atropos, leaning against a corner and reading a copy of Pride and Prejudice, caught her eyes.

She tipped her hat to Vicky.

After a moment, Vicky wordlessly nodded back. It hurt, a little, that Amy didn't want to share details with her, but... with how she'd grown up, and how dangerous it had been up until recently, she could afford to wait until Amy was confident enough to tell her directly. And, as much as she didn't think Atropos was a hero...

...well...

...she was a monster slayer. Nobody could deny that.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled random mayhem ...

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Topic: The King is Dead, Woo!

In: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► New Capes ► Atropos

Atropos (Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Dethpicable)

Posted On Feb 27th 2011:

Well, hello to the wonderful people of Brockton Bay. Yes, that's you!

Posting again at midnight, because traditions are fun.

So, yesterday was a productive day. I got to introduce some people I knew to other people I knew (you know who you are) and I'm pleased to say everyone got along well. It's nice when everyone gets along, you know?

I also got to watch the start of the Brockton Bay comprehensive infrastructure upgrade plan. It got off well, with no hitches or delays to be seen, all due to the exemplary work of the Betterment Committee chairman and his diligent committee members. I'm totally proud of everyone involved, from the guy at the top all the way down to the lowliest grunt shoveling dirt (you rock, dude!).

Then I rounded out my evening with a little light exercise. You see, our very own PRT Director Piggot arranged with me on Friday that I would deal with Nilbog in my own inimitable fashion. I decided that it wouldn't be fair if I didn't at least give him warning, so I went into Ellisburg and did exactly that. The footage of my little stroll through the Goblin Kingdom, courtesy of a PRT supplied body camera, can be found [here].

Unfortunately for his future prospects (such as breathing), Nilbog decided to decline my generous offer (surrender to the PRT or die) and so I went back on Saturday afternoon. It got a little energetic, but exercise is good for the body and mind. Also courtesy of the PRT, the footage of Nilbog's death can be found [here].

Rumors that the footage has been set to Ride of the Valkyries and played on loop in the PRT headquarters are possibly false. The other rumor, that they've turned it into a drinking game, is almost certainly untrue. Nobody can handle that much alcohol.

In case anyone is wondering why I went and did this—it's not like Nilbog was threatening Brockton Bay, after all—we will be getting ten percent of the Ellisburg budget for the next ten years, courtesy of Director Piggot. Also, she asked politely.

On to other messages.

To the Fallen: you are very close to doing an extremely stupid thing. Yes, I know you're all butt-hurt that your personal apocalyptic monsters have been Ended. They were a threat. I removed them. If you become a threat, I will remove you as well. It's kind of my thing.

Well, don't say you weren't warned.

Anyway, to the rest of you wonderful people, have a great Sunday, and just remember that the sound of roadworks outside your window is the sound of a better tomorrow.

Toodles!

(Showing page 1 of 93)

►Bagrat (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)

Replied On Feb 27th 2011:

And we have another Atropos post.

Just when we thought our own personal angel of death might be mellowing out and settling down a little, this happens. Things are so peaceful in Brockton Bay these days that it's almost possible to forget how we got to this point, but then something like this happens and she reminds us in no uncertain terms.

Make no mistake, folks: under that happy, chatty exterior lies the heart and soul of someone who *will* take extreme exception to anyone messing with her city. We saw it with our gang leaders, we saw it with the Nine, with Butcher and with the Simurgh. And now Nilbog has gone the same way.

I will make a note that no punches are pulled. There's not a huge amount of blood, except when the shears or the axe are used, but her sheer terrifying capability comes out in a way that it doesn't during her other recorded combats. It wasn't a fight. Fights involve a chance for the other side to win. They were outmatched from the beginning, no matter how many they threw at her.

In a side note, I'm pretty sure the axe she was using is the same one she took off Hatchet Face and decapitated Jack Slash with. If so, it's a nice touch to see it being used for good.

Here's hoping the Fallen come to their senses before it's too late ... for them.

Well, I can dream, right?

►Reave (Verified PRT Agent)

Replied On Feb 27th 2011:

I have been authorized to verify the fact that I was in the room when Atropos met with Director Piggot and laid out the terms of the agreement regarding Nilbog.

Atropos was courteous, professional and approachable.

We are very pleased with the result.

I would like to emphasize that this does *not* mean that Atropos is in any way on the PRT payroll, nor has she joined the Protectorate or Wards. She continues to be a free agent, and will do things her way. We do not give her orders, and we're not going to pretend that we do. The very most we have with her is a cooperative relationship, which seems to be working out so far.

►ShaneGoldman

Replied On Feb 27th 2011:

What an excellent end to a horrible kingdom. Like Atropos said, Nilbog was a weeping sore on the face of America.

►UnlikelyRomance (PHO Adviser)

Replied On Feb 27th 2011:

Okay, Nilborg and Ellisburg have fallen, and now the Fallen want to poke Atropos too?

Are they suicidal or just nuts?

►Tangle

Replied On Feb 27th 2011:

So, a would-be fairytale goblin monarch got a traditional end of many fairytale villains: a beheading by axe. And then his head was delivered as proof to the remaining authority to whom it mattered the most. Justice, done, vengeance served, and quest completed.

Oh, and Message Delivered: If Atropos *tells* you that you have twenty-four hours to surrender to the proper authorities or she will come over there and kill you, you have twenty-four hours in which to either get your affairs in order or surrender to those authorities, or she *will* come over there and kill you.

UnlikelyRomance: "yes".

►TheRealPanacea (Verified Cape) (Cape Daughter) (New Wave Member)

Replied On Feb 27th 2011:

So, not to downplay the Nilbog thing (which anyone but Nilbog could apparently have predicted) but I just want to say that I was one of the people Atropos mentioned in her 'people I knew' bit.

See, TheRealGloryGirl and I were down at the Boardwalk on Saturday when we ran into Atropos. She was perfectly friendly, and even introduced us to the Rogues' Guild. If anyone hasn't heard of them, they're a bunch of capes that hang out on the Boardwalk doing stuff. They helped out at the hospital fundraiser where Canary did her comeback.

Anyway, they're pretty cool. Salvage makes toys, Bastet dances, Spitfire breathes fire (big surprise there), Oracle answers questions, and Parian makes dolls. But not just any doll. While I was talking to her, she made [this] [one] [up] for me in just a few minutes. I mean, how gorgeous is that?

So yeah, head on down to the Boardwalk on Saturday afternoon, and check them out. I'm glad I did.

►TheRealGloryGirl (Verified Cape) (Cape Daughter) (New Wave Member)

Replied On Feb 27th 2011:

Imma second what TheRealPanacea just said. The capes in the Rogues Guild had a pretty rough start, and you really couldn't blame them if they went villain. But they didn't, and they're doing the best with what they have.

And Parian's dolls *are* pretty rad. Kinda jel I didn't get one done of me while I was there.

Next weekend, though …

►EmmaTheTwiceWarned (Verified Atropos Cultist)

Replied On Feb 27th 2011:

Our Lady in Darkness has brought down her wrath upon the Kingdom of Nilbog, and he has fallen. But just as she taketh away, she also giveth to those who pay respect to her. Those known as the Rogues' Guild are favored in her sight, and so they deserve our support. We Followers have chosen to purchase the wares of Salvage the toy-maker and distribute them to the less advantaged children of Brockton Bay. This is how we show our devotion to Her.

The Laws of Our Lady in Darkness are simple:

No worship. She refutes any claim to be a goddess.

No robes or masks. We are but Her Followers, and are responsible for our actions.

No killing. If killing is required, then She will do it.

No charity theater. Do good that actually fixes problems.

No performing deeds in Her name. We may revere her, but we must own our actions.

All hail Our Lady in Darkness.

►TeamMom (Senior Moderator)

Replied On Feb 27th 2011:

Okay, before anyone goes off the deep end, Atropos has contacted me about the 'Followers of Our Lady in Darkness'. She assures me that while yes, they are actually a cult, they're harmless. Treat them like any other evangelical group. No violence, please.

She also gave me another Law for the Followers:

"Deliberately gaining Warnings from Our Lady in Darkness will see the offender ejected from the Followers, at the very least. Emma is the only one allowed that title."

End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 91, 92, 93

PRIVATE MESSAGE

To: Atropos

From: Accord

Subject: Meeting Proposal

Good morning.

Given the ongoing work in Brockton Bay, as well as the shifting circumstances within that city, I believe that moving my center of operations to be closer to the action would allow my plans to be updated more efficiently. I have no desire to provoke you in any way; thus, I propose sending my Ambassadors Citrine and Othello to meet with you under conditions of truce and discuss the potential move.

Will that be suitable for you?

Accord

PRIVATE MESSAGE

To: Accord

From: Atropos

Subject: Re: Meeting Proposal

Thank you for contacting me.

I'm entirely willing to meet with your Ambassadors under conditions of truce, and hash out the details. It's evident to me that you have no intention of treachery, so I shall not bore either of us with threats regarding such things.

Have your Ambassadors meet with me on the Boardwalk, between Hamilton Avenue and Washington Street, at 12:30 PM. Assure them that even if they get lost, I will find them.

Yes, this will be in public. I can assure you that nobody will get close enough to hear what we are saying. If they try, I will know.

I look forward to a productive meeting.

Atropos

Panacea

Amy shook her head, but that wasn't strong enough, so she facepalmed as well. "What the actual fuck?"

"Our Lady in Darkness?" asked Vicky from the open doorway.

"How'd you guess?" Amy rolled her eyes.

"Because I said exactly the same thing."

Amy gestured at the screen. "How can she possibly be okay with this?"

Vicky smirked. "Well, she clearly is, so I'm going to go with 'has more of a sense of humour than either of us expected'. And to be honest, those rules she gave them are pretty straightforward."

"Yeah, but … a cult." That was the part Amy was having the most trouble getting her head around. "Every cult I've ever heard of turned out to be bad news, even the ones not run by Masters."

Vicky huffed a sigh. "Listen. I may not be her biggest fan …"

"No, that's Great and Terrible Aisha," Amy snarked.

"True that. But my point is, while I don't necessarily like Atropos, or what she does, do you honestly think she'd let a cult in her name get out of control for even one second?"

Amy tilted her head to one side, considering Vicky's words. "Well … no. I don't think that. And she did tell Team Mom that they were harmless."

"Exactly. We're allowed to point and laugh, but we're not allowed to harass them unless they start breaking the law. Which buying toys to give out to kids isn't."

"I guess." Amy frowned in Vicky's general direction. "How come you're defending them like this? Yesterday when we were talking with Atropos, you were doing your best to cross-examine her like Mom with a hostile witness on the stand."

Vicky half-turned her head away. "I, um, had time to think about it after the fact. Spoke to a couple of the Rogues' Guild members. Realised I was being overly judgemental. Prejudiced, even."

"Yeah, you said something about that. Well—" She was interrupted by a yawn. "Um, wow. It's later than I thought. Well, if Atropos can tolerate the Cult of Our Lady in Darkness, I guess I can too."

Vicky grinned. "I'll still point and laugh, though."

Amy smirked and closed her laptop. "G'night, Vicky."

"Night."

Sundancer

They were well on the way into Brockton Bay when Cody looked around and frowned. "Is it just me, or are there no gang tags around?"

Marissa, sitting in the passenger seat, took a closer look at the buildings around them. Some were more dilapidated than others, but he was right. In fact, it seemed to her that some of the structures had been recently pressure-washed, cleaning the grime off as well as the graffiti.

Not every surface was clear of paint, however. As they rolled past a railway overpass, she spotted a mural depicting a shadowy figure in a long-coat and hat, silhouetted against a sunset. The shears in the figure's hand merely confirmed who it was supposed to be. Across the bottom were three words: SHE IS WATCHING. Marissa wasn't sure if it was supposed to be a warning or a reassurance.

Cody shivered. "I've only met her once, but I know exactly how the person who did that felt."

Abruptly, the sound of the asphalt under the tyres of the motorhome changed, going from a steady rumble to near-silence. Marissa looked around at the road in puzzlement, then realised it was freshly laid, and thus still smooth and unspoiled. The lines were clear and stark, and all the signage looked recently installed. Even the speed limit signs gleamed in the morning sun.

"Did they do this overnight?" asked Marissa. "They can't have. Can they?" She didn't have any background in construction or roadworks, but the last time she'd driven on a road this smooth, it had been closed for a week prior to that.

Cody shrugged. "All I know is that it all kicked off yesterday afternoon. This must've been one of the first streets they hit. Working through the night, fixing and replacing the infrastructure as they went, each shift taking over from the last one …" He shook his head in wonder. "Damn."

"Do you think we can really do it?" asked Marissa. At Cody's inquiring sideways glance, she added, "Make the jump away from being villains. Everyone I ever heard of who tried it ended up being forced back into the life again. Or died."

He sighed heavily. "Well, we had a shit deal to begin with, and God only knows how much the Simurgh's bullshit had to do with our life choices up until now. Plus, we had Noelle's problems on top of everything else, so it's never really been possible before. It's a leap of faith, but it's still our best bet."

"Yeah." She slid down in the seat, looking out through the windshield at Brockton Bay, rolling by. "Now all we have to do is stick the landing."

Brockton Bay Betterment Committee Headquarters

Danny

The work crews were still running at optimum capacity, nearly a day after the job had begun. The pre-work maintenance had caught nearly all the potential problems, but the machinery was going to be working non-stop for months, if not years. Wear and tear would become an issue, sooner rather than later. That was why they had rolling maintenance shops trundling along with the road crews, and backup machinery ready to roll into place when something had to be pulled off the line.

Immense volumes of diesel were being consumed across Brockton Bay, but demand was being met with supply. Fuel trucks were rolling into Brockton Bay to keep the massive bowsers in the marshalling yards filled, and these were being tapped to top up the working machines during any forced periods of idleness. Every possible cause of delay had been considered, and plans devised to reduce them to a minimum.

Danny knew this, because he was at the centre of the web. He knew the plans, and he could see them unfolding in real time. While he was awake and nominally overseeing the process, he was also subtly boosting the efficiency and skill of everyone on the machines, as well as the machines themselves. Nothing ran too hot, nobody swung too close to an obstacle and clipped it, and anything that was having a problem held on just long enough for a mechanic to get to it.

The good thing about having this power was that he could maintain the efficiency of the overall efforts of the work crews right across Brockton Bay while still maintaining enough focus to handle day to day tasks. He had people to handle the interviews for most newcomers looking for work, but he'd given instructions for certain situations. One of these situations was for when (not if) capes came looking for work.

It was mid-morning on Sunday when the notification he'd been waiting for popped up on his tablet. Taylor had given him the heads-up that the Travellers were coming in, and it seemed they'd finally arrived. Other arrangements had been completed in this time, so he was as ready as he would be.

"I need to take this in my office," he said as he stood up from the map table. "Let me know the moment anything goes wrong."

Nothing would, he knew, except from deliberate sabotage or outside interference. Even then, he'd be able to mitigate any problems until Taylor got there and sorted matters out. But he hoped no such thing would happen.

Leaving the operations room, he headed along the corridor to the room that had been designated as his office. He would've been more comfortable at the Dockworkers' Association, but the commute distance made that untenable. At least they'd brought in a good coffee maker.

He poured himself a cup and sat down, then enjoyed the first sip before the knock came on his door.

Trickster

"Okay," said Francis. "Here we are. The big decision. Do we go in civvies, civvies with masks, or full costume?"

"Three of us never got costumes," Noelle reminded him. "I think it would look weird if some of us were in costume and some weren't."

"Yeah, but … just walking in bare-faced and announcing we're capes?" Cody objected. "How's that going to look? Really?"

"Masks, then?" Luke suggested.

"Just dominos," Jess decided. "It would look just as weird if you guys wore the masks from your costumes without the actual costumes for context."

Marissa cleared her throat. "Actually, that's another good question. Are we going to be telling them our real names, or sticking with our cape names?"

Noelle and Luke spoke at the same time.

"Real names."

"Cape names."

"Okay, hold up. Hold up." Francis raised his hands as the pair glared at each other and went to reiterate their choices. When he was sure they wouldn't just start shouting, he pointed to Luke. "Reasoning?"

Luke sighed. "Once we're done here and we're moving along again, I don't want any asshole Fed or PRT agent finding out my real name just by asking these guys."

Francis nodded. "I can see that, yeah. Noelle?"

She rolled her eyes. "Atropos already knows basically everything about us. Panacea knows a bit, too. And when the PRT showed up with those capes, they saw our faces and didn't give a damn. Plus, Oliver and I don't have cape names. And I don't even have powers anymore."

"Also a good point." Francis rubbed his chin. "Okay, we'll go with first names only, and we'll wear dominos. That suit everyone?"

Nods came from around the group, even (if grudgingly) from Luke. "Okay, yeah, fine."

Once they were all masked up—they kept a stash of disposable domino masks, available from any novelty store, for emergencies—they left the motorhome. Jess made it down the steps with assistance, but was grateful to drop back into the chair once she was on the sidewalk. Then they set off in the direction of the Brockton Bay Betterment Committee.

Pulling out his cigarettes, Francis lit one up. He was careful to stay downwind of the others when he did this, but he needed the assistance to calm his shaking nerves. The pack was getting low, too, which he was going to have to deal with at some point.

The walk lasted just long enough to finish the smoke, and he carefully stubbed the butt out before flicking it into a nearby trash can. As they entered the building proper, he could see the gazes they were drawing. He knew damn well it was the masks, though Luke seemed to be doing his best to ignore the attention.

Time to get this done. Strolling up to the front counter as though nothing unusual was happening at all, Francis smiled at the receptionist. "Hi, we're the Travellers. Most of us are capes. We're looking for work."

"Ah, yes," she said imperturbably, as though this sort of thing happened on a daily basis; for all he knew, it did. "You'll need to see Mr Hebert. He's on the third floor, the office at the end of the corridor."

"Wait," he asked with a frown. "That's it? We just go up?"

"Yes." She beamed at him. "We've already been informed you were on your way in. He'll be waiting for you. Elevators are down to the right." She pointed helpfully toward the sign saying ELEVATORS.

"Ah … thanks." This was already going a lot smoother than he'd expected. "I appreciate it."

"You're welcome." She went back to typing at her terminal.

"Well?" asked Cody as he got back to the group.

"We're expected." Francis hooked his head toward the elevators. "Third floor, end of the corridor. Someone called Mr Hebert."

Luke frowned. "Do we all go up, or some of us stay down here?"

Francis and Noelle spoke at once, with Cody chiming in half a second later. "We don't split the party."

"C'mon," Jess snarked. "Even I know that one. Let's go see the wizard." She rolled her chair toward the elevators.

"The wonderful wizard of Oz," agreed Oliver, following along. "Or of Brockton Bay. Whatever."

They crammed into the elevator, Jess backing her chair into one corner and the others fitting in around it. "I can't wait to get out of this thing," she griped, as the doors closed.

"It's different when you know you can, isn't it?" Noelle, half-perched on one armrest, slapped her leg. "When I didn't think I'd ever be fixed, I was resigned to it. But once I heard the plan, that went clear out the window."

"Damn right. It sucks to be at everyone's butt level."

Francis wasn't sure if he wanted to hear any more about the problems of being at butt level, so he was mildly relieved when the doors opened. Leading the way out of the elevator, he looked around until he spotted the door marked DANNY HEBERT CHAIRMAN BBBC.

"This way." They headed along the corridor, Francis trying to rehearse in his mind what he was going to say when he came face-to-face with the man who was going to determine their future. How was he supposed to convince this Danny Hebert that the Travellers were no longer villains? When he reached the door, he hesitated.

"Oh, for God's sake," Noelle muttered, and reached out to give the door a sharp double-rap.

"Come in," a voice called from within.

Francis opened the door and stepped inside, then held it for the others.

Danny

As the Travellers filed in, Danny looked them over. Aside from the domino masks, they appeared to be as ordinary a group of young men and women as he'd ever met. Clasping his hands together over the thick envelope on his desk, he waited until all seven were inside, and the door was closed once more.

"Good morning," he said, standing up. "I'm Danny Hebert, and I'm pleased to meet you."

"The sign on your door said 'Chairman'," the petite blonde girl said. "Why do we rate the head guy for our interview?"

"Because you're capes," he explained bluntly. "Ex-villains, I'm aware, but you've never committed a Federal crime, so nobody's going to come looking for you in this state. You were recommended to me by Atropos, and I trust her judgement. I've got a little more experience with capes than most people in the building, so I handle cape recruitment."

"Atropos actually recommended us?" asked the hook-nosed young man; Danny knew his name was Francis, otherwise known as Trickster. "That's kind of a surprise. I mean, she did say we could come and apply, but not that she'd put in a word for us."

Danny smiled. "She tends to keep her own counsel, but like I said, I trust her implicitly. Take a seat and let's get to it." Sitting down again, he watched as they found the chairs he'd placed around the periphery of the room. "You have questions. I have answers."

"So, how does this work?" asked the heavy-set young man—Ballistic, otherwise known as Luke. "Are you going to be calling us in for special jobs, or what?"

"No." Danny folded his hands over the envelope again. "You will be working alongside the non-powered men and women, and paid the same wages as they are. Specifically, if your power comes into play, you will be paid the same as an operator of whatever specialised machinery your power just stood in for. Otherwise, you will be expected to take the same training courses everyone else has."

"And if we don't have powers, we just … work?" That was the well-built young man, Oliver.

"That's what you've generally got to do, to get money," Danny agreed blandly. "The work will be strenuous, but I don't believe in pushing people until they break. You will be paid according to union rules; if you sign up, you are automatically part of the union. Also, you will be assigned free accommodation, unless and until you decide to get lodgings of your own."

"And what about our secret identities?" That was Francis.

Danny decided it was time for bluntness again. "We honestly don't care. You can't wear masks or costumes on the job site; safety regulations forbid it. People will see your faces. If you want to go by your cape names, people will probably give you funny nicknames. Go by your real names, and nobody will look twice."

The black-haired guy—Cody—had been silent until now. "And what about the powers that could be useful, but there's no machines that do it?"

"You're referring to yourself and Mr Krouse." Danny saw from the reactions that he was correct. "You're right. Those powers can be very useful, in the right situation. You two will be given an extra designation: special safety officer. This will give you a pay increase, so long as you keep your eyes out for potentially risky situations." He gazed mildly at them. "Any other questions?"

"Uh, yeah." The girl in the wheelchair, Jess, spoke up. "You know I've got to sleep to use my power, right? It'll kind of look weird for me to be crashed out wherever."

"Your foreman will be apprised of the situation." Danny smiled. "They'll be pleased to have you. Depending on what machines your power can stand in for, you may be in some demand. Which equals extra pay. And you get to sleep on the job, so there's that."

"Okay, nobody else has brought this up." This was the woman called Noelle. "But … how are we going to get paid? We don't even have proper bank accounts. Just, well, cash."

"You do now." Danny opened the envelope and let the smaller paper packets slide into his hand. On each was printed a name and a face, and (he knew) contained a card. "These came in this morning. They will each have the latest stimulus payment on them, which should help with any initial budgeting issues you might have, and can be used in any cash machine. You will be prompted for a PIN on your first use."

They'd been respectful up until now, but as he handed the packets out, they were utterly astonished. Taking his packet, Francis opened it up and took out the card, which had his name embossed on it. "How …?" he asked, staring at the card and then at Danny.

Danny's smile widened. "Welcome to Brockton Bay, ladies and gentlemen. We do things differently here, these days."

End of Part Fifty-Six