20

Chapter 20: Droplet 3-1

Beta'd by BigCC

"Damn you Sophia!" - Speech

'Why, Emma?' - Thought

Droplet 3.1

+++Riptide+++

The Next Day

Main Lab Room, The Nevermore

Much to my initial surprise, there was almost nothing new available on Dinah's attempted kidnapping on the morning news, the papers, or even the internet; save a repetition of the bare-bones facts and the fact that the investigation is ongoing.

However, it did not take me long to put together exactly why. Due to my interference in the kidnapping attempt, the PRT had likely been able to claim total jurisdiction over the incident, and had likely locked down any 'official' news sources tighter than a steel drum.

Normally that wouldn't bother me all that much, but I literally had no clue on just how they were interpreting either my interference or the fact that Dinah hadn't shown up since. There was a very strong chance that I was already being treated as a possible accomplice in the kidnapping itself, or even the one directly responsible.

That sucked. It sucked very much.

I frowned as I finished working on the small device resting on my primary workbench. It wasn't anything particularly special, simply a jammer device designed to destroy any bugs within a single room. There was a better than good chance that the Mayor's office had been bugged, either by one (or more) of the big gangs or by the Protectorate/PRT themselves; so I'd thought it best to have something like this ready. It basically scanned any radio or electronic signals in an area, identified any transmitters within its range and then used a targeted EMP burst to short them out if they didn't belong there.

Of course, in order to get my Tinker powers to go along with making something non-water related in nature, I'd had to do some heavy water-based Tinkering the night before. I'd managed to put together a massive version of my water forcefield generator, one powerful enough to completely envelop the Nevermore in a protective bubble, and a pair of high-powered water cannons, both simply Tinker-enhanced versions of the kind used by riot trucks, but capable of generating enough force to cave in three inches of steel plating.

The shield generator was installed in the base level of the former bridge tower, hidden from sight but in an open-enough location that it could easily and quickly deploy a shield if we suddenly came under attack, while the two water cannons had been installed into either side of the main hull to act as broadside weapons. Of course, that had required me building actual gunports (or extending rotating turret mounts installed directly into the Nevermore's sides to be precise) for them which had eaten into even more of my time last night.

I honestly hadn't gotten more than four hours of sleep last night, but I was feeling strangely okay. Maybe I was still riding the adrenaline high from everything that happened yesterday? Who knew.

"Amphitrite, progress report on the installation of the internal security measures." I requested as I walked over and slid the device into a storage pouch I'd already placed on my Triton Armor.

"All internal cameras have been installed and linked to the primary network. Approximately 25% of the internal forcefield generators have been successfully emplaced, with an additional 5% awaiting final checks before coming online." my VI reported clinically. "10% of all internal security turrets have been installed. At the current rate of progression, basic security installation should be completed within the next 60 to 65 hours."

"So about what I was expecting." I agreed with a huff of breath. Things were starting to get dicey enough that I really wanted my base to at least have its basic defenses set up sooner rather than later. "And what about our guest?"

"Guest Augury is currently still asleep and likely still recovering from her Thinker Headache." Amphitrite offered simply. "Judging from what data I could gather on the subject and the length of time she has spent recovering, I can only assume that she put an immense amount of strain on her powers yesterday."

"Given that she's just twelve and was grabbed right out of her own home, that doesn't really surprise me." I responded dryly. "Given similar circumstances, I doubt an adult wouldn't have pushed themselves to try and find a way out regardless of the consequences, let alone a kid who was likely scared out of her mind. Were you able to remotely take her measurements like I requested?"

"Affirmative." my VI confirmed. "I have already uploaded them to the main design table."

"I honestly doubt that they'll be valid for long though, girls at that age can shoot up like weeds in just a couple of months." I mused aloud, a slightly whimsical grin on my lips as I thought back to happier times. "I know I did. Still, she'll need it for when we go and meet the mayor and the rest of her family. If nothing else, it'll hammer into her idiot parents' heads that she really is a Cape. I'm honestly worried that they might have some kind of anti-cape bias, despite you not being able to find anything like that on their online profiles."

Looking into the idiots that had failed to notice their preteen daughter had Triggered with a powerful Thinker Power had been one of the things I'd had Amphitrite working on while I was working through my Tinkering binge last night. Diana Alcott née Christner, Mayor Roy Christner's younger sister, was, at first glance, your normal stay-at-home housewife. However, since her brother had managed to be nominated for the Mayoral Elections a few years ago, she'd rapidly grown into a well-known socialite and a popular figure in Brockton Bay's upper-class social scene. To be fair, she mostly seemed to be acting as a support rallier and aide for her elder brother, so she wasn't just doing it for fun. Arthur Alcott was just a mid-level bureaucrat working in City Hall under his brother-in-law.

Neither had a major online presence. Arthur was listed on a web-page for his department at City Hall and Diana had a bio listed on a charity site she sat on the board of. Nothing on either of their limited social media presences suggested any kind of major biases against anything aside from crime in general and, for some reason, kumquats on her mother's side.

Seriously? What did she have against that fruit?

Back on topic, so no major cape biases were blaring online, but that could just mean that they smart or political enough to keep them to themselves. Either that or they were simply unable to imagine their child having powers to the point that they had blissfully ignored the very obvious signs of a powerful Thinker power at work.

Right now, I was heavily leaning toward the latter option. But I'd be prepared just in case I was proven wrong.

"Pull up the copy of the PRT's Threat Rating System you have so we can at least get an idea of how powerful Augury's power really is once she's recovered." I instructed, thankful that a copy of those had been included in the database that Toybox had supplied with my equipment and VI assistant. "When I go speak with the mayor, I want to be able to lay out exactly how badly her parents have screwed the pooch with this. From what I've found looking through the records Toybox included, no one who's Triggered before they hit their teens has ever been weaker than a six on the TRS, and I'm willing to bet that Augury's going to be on the upper end of that scale.

"Understood. Shall I have a physical copy printed out for you?" Amphitrite asked politely.

"No need, I've been meaning to throw together a limited access data-pad for you, now's as good as a time as any." I answered, reaching back for my toolkit. My power was still feeling quite cooperative after last night's Tinkering session, so I should be able to put it together without any issues. "How is Salacia doing with the sub?"

"The framework is roughly 90% complete and all indicators predict that the remaining 10% will be completed within the next three to five hours." my VI replied. "Once that has been completed, she will revert to sorting and processing raw materials until reassigned."

The more mundane parts of Tinkering, like assembling a vehicle's internal framework, were things that Salacia could handle without issue. The actual Tinkering itself, the real meat and potatoes as it were, were the things that I had to do personally. Part of the whole 'superpower' thing I suppose, but it was still a pain in the ass.

Still, having a gynoid assistant to take care of the more mundane portions of the build meant that I was able to focus more of my time on reinforcing my base. The two water cannons were weapons of absolute last resort for now, but I already had several ideas for more traditional broadside armaments…like a shit-ton of lasers. Seeing those disposable laser attachments the kidnappers had been fielding seemed to have inspired my Inner Tinker and I now had a whole slough of ideas for 'water lens-based laser weaponry' bouncing in the back of my head.

I had been able to use that enthusiasm to finally put together a set of blueprints for a new propulsion system that could get the Nevermore mobile again. But Jesus Christ, the thing made a nuclear reactor look safe and simple by comparison, despite being technically a 'clean' system and water-powered to boot. It was the sheer number of individual parts and devices I'd have to build on my own and then assemble that was really daunting me.

Shaking my head, I pushed that to the side for now. I'd focus on fortifying and securing the Nevermore as much as possible for now, along with working on my current contract with the submarine, before I even thought about working on getting her mobile again. For now, my focus was on speeding up the assembly of my internal defenses before I went to meet with the Mayor.

Mayor Christner was, apparently, swamped with work this week, and I certainly didn't really want to barge into his home. Best to keep things as professional as possible and keep it to an area where he'd feel safe and in control of, like his office. Dad had always said that when negotiating with an unhappy client or investor, making them feel comfortable can go a long way to keeping everything polite. Hopefully it'd be enough to keep him from immediately assuming I was threatening his family.

Why was I being so cautious? Because the PRT had likely already been in contact with him and, knowing the Director's negative bias against Parahumans, then there was a good chance he'd already be worried I was coming after him. Even if he was aware of the fact that I'd initially rescued Dinah, the fact that I hadn't immediately returned her to her family could still paint me in a negative light. I honestly couldn't blame him for that either, but I really don't want to have to deal with a protective and worried family member who was also scared I would chop him to bits.

Finishing the touchscreen pad, I put it to the side and got started on another device that had come to me during my Tinkering spree last night. I was honestly surprised I hadn't thought of this one earlier. The world's largest deposits of gold is in the ocean, but it was too much work for too little gain to remove the minute traces of gold particles from normal seawater given the sheer number of trace metals and impurities that it normally contains. Well, for normal technology that is.

For my power, putting together an extractor capable of pulling out gold and other valuable impurities before releasing the rest back into the ocean was a snap. Granted it wouldn't solve my money problems instantly. The one I was building could only extract a few grams of a day, but it would certainly help supplement my income so I wasn't completely reliant on Toybox's contracts, and I could always build more and larger ones when I had time and resources.

There was an immense amount of gold in the Seven Seas, more than I could likely spend in a lifetime of Tinkering. Once I got enough of these set up in the major oceanic currents then my money problems would be solved.

So long as I didn't accidentally destroy the world gold market anyway.

+++PRT Strike Team Captain Thomas Calvert+++

Later

Calvert's Office, PRT ENE Building

"Yes...yes...make sure that Lieutenant Packing is aware of all the issues he's caused, Captain Lawson." Thomas said over the phone. "His incompetence is directly responsible for the Undersiders managing to escape from a position where we could have very well caught them. Yes...very good. Farewell."

Replacing the handset in its cradle, the man smirked for a moment before his face resumed its mask of calm professionalism.

'It took far longer than I was expecting to get that idiot's superior to properly discipline him. Piggot's foolishness is starting to leak down to the lower ranks, it seems.' Calvert though distastefully before he allowed a smug internal grin. 'Still, I managed to get it done in the end.'

Lieutenant Steven Packing the Third was the moron who'd been placed in charge of the PRT Rapid Response Squad that had responded to the Brockton Bay Central Bank heist a few days ago, and his stupidity and inability to follow basic procedure had cost Calvert one of his secondary objectives. That, combined with his lingering aggravation over that day's other issues, meant that Calvert was doing his level best to ensure the twit suffered as much as he could for the foreseeable future.

Packing's CO, the one who should have headed up the Response Squad, Captain James Lawson, had been out attending an unavoidable training and reaffirmation course outside the city until just this morning. It was why he'd only just managed to get the idiot properly punished without getting Piggot involved.

Because of Ellisburg, Emily Piggot did not trust Parahumans in the least and firmly believed that her Troopers were there not only to support them but as a way to counter any possible issues they could cause. So she'd take any excuse to blame the Capes for any issues or failures, as she was doing with the Wards now despite them following procedure to the letter. This was apparently starting to lead to some of the Troopers thinking they could get away with a little more when working with the Protectorate and Wards by passing the buck.

Foolish, wasteful, and utterly annoying.

Thomas Calvert was many, many unpleasant things. He was somewhat arrogant, extremely cold, a (privately) admitted sadist, and extremely ambitious. He felt no guilt about shooting his own commanding officer in the back in order to ensure his survival and would gleefully betray his oaths to the United States Military if it furthered his own goals. But if there was one thing that he loathed above anything else it was nepotism or favoritism of any stripe. Jobs were meant to be done as quickly, efficiently, and effectively as possible, and anyone who couldn't accomplish their assignments should not be in any position to be appointed to them.

He was one of five Strike Captains in the Parahuman Response Team East-North-East, the Captain of Squad Five, to be precise. Lawson was a member of Squad Three. As such, only Captain Lawson, or Deputy Director Renick, or Director Emily Piggot, could punish Lieutenant Packing as they were directly above him in the chain of command, outside of emergency field situations, anyway. Thus he was forced to go through Lawson to ensure that some schadenfreude was obtained, rather than doing it personally as he much preferred.

Still, with the promise of proper punishment being delivered onto the fool whose incompetence had hindered his plans, Calvert allowed himself a moment to pause and reflect. He'd spent a good portion of yesterday evening looking into exactly how the Undersiders had managed to escape the Bank, not including the incompetence of the PRT leadership. Tattletale, he knew, would have kept the finer details to herself as much as possible, likely having already guessed his intentions to use the job's failure to more fully bind the Undersiders to him.

Getting anything from her would have likely been like pulling teeth (and not in the fun way) and it frankly hadn't seemed worth the effort yesterday with all his focus on finally obtaining his pet.

Still, a bit of research and access thanks to his PRT credentials had allowed him to piece most of it together on his own.

Most banks were either large, stand-alone buildings, or they were small-to large buildings in streets. In either case they never had any form of back entrances to limit risks of robbery. The Brockton Bay Central Bank, however, did have a back entrance. This was because it had formerly been a local Building Society branch up until about sixty years ago, before they'd been bought out by the government and the place was converted to a Bank proper. The contractors in charge of renovating and converting the building had apparently considered removing the rear entrance an 'unnecessary expense' (translation: they'd been either lazy or greedy) and had simply left it.

The entrance itself was mostly concealed in a back alley and almost no one knew about it, save for the bank staff that used it, and the narrow alleyway itself as a place to grab a quick smoke. Tattletale had likely either hacked the municipal database to find a current blueprint with an accurate building layout, or simply managed to somehow gather the information from observing the bank employees.

Clever girl as always, but right now he was not pleased with the little bitch.

To summarize his recent week as concisely and accurately as possible: he'd failed to acquire his new Pet, he was down not only one of his better mercenary teams but also a half-dozen expensive Tinkertech Laser Attachments that he'd purchased from Toybox; the Undersiders had managed to escape without becoming further indebted to him; and, just to add a cherry on top, Toybox had somehow managed to find out that he'd used the weapons he acquired from them to attack a Parahuman at their home address, a clear violation of the Unwritten Rules and their purchasing agreements, and thus he was now officially blacklisted from purchasing so much as a pen from them in perpetuity.

So, needless to say, he was barely keeping a lid on the incandescent fury bubbling just beneath the surface. It had taken several alternative timelines of 'stress relief' just to get him through the last few days without doing something regrettable.

'It doesn't matter.' Coil reminded himself soothingly in the safety of his own mind. 'It is a minor setback at worse, nothing more. I still have all the cards that I need. Yes, actually paying the Undersiders for their little bank robbery will be annoying, but my funds are secure enough to afford it, and the information that Tattletale managed to retrieve from the bank will be useful for a few other ventures, so I'll even be able to recoup most of it in the long run.'

Most of his initial funding came from a few power-assisted gambles in the stock market just after he got his Vial. The rest came from his illicit activities, including a large amount of blackmail he'd acquired over the years, again thanks to his power. It was amazing what information one could acquire when you didn't have to worry about consequences.

Still, he could just imagine Tattletale's smug voice the next time they spoke, so pleased at avoiding his trap…ugh, just the thought was hard for him to stomach.

On the subject of His Tattletale, Calvert would admit, albeit to himself and himself alone, that he had been far too hasty in dismissing her claims regarding Riptide's patrol patterns. He'd made too many assumptions, both in assuming that Tattletale was simply being her usual delaying, uncooperative self, and assuming the fact that all his reports only showed her on patrol after six meant that Riptide was intent on being a purely nocturnal hero.

Both were foolish mistakes on his parts. Ones he would have to correct going forward.

Tattletale had been requesting, repeatedly, for more resources to assist in gathering information on Brockton Bay's newest Tinker and he had always been quick to refuse her. He'd both been distracted by his oncoming acquisition of Dinah Alcott and…justifiably wary of allowing her more resources. The girl was nothing if not crafty and she'd already managed to convince one of the men he'd assigned as her minder to attempt to poison his coffee in a throwaway timeline.

Still, Riptide was proving to be a greater wrench in his plans than he'd originally assumed and risks would be required if he wanted to find and acquire (or neutralize) them. If nothing else, Tattletale's pride as Thinker and a general know-it-all would ensure that she did everything in her power to actually acquire information on Riptide. With any luck on either her or his side, she might be able to find some hint to the location of the Tinker's workshop.

Even as he started updating the training records for his strike team, the face of Thomas Calvert had an expression that could only be described as sinister, covetous anticipation.

+++Dinah Alcott+++

The Next Day

Stateroom, Nevermore Crew Quarters

Dinah was feeling much, much better as she finally came back to the world of the living. The last time she had pushed her power anywhere close to as hard as she had during her kidnapping, it had taken her sleeping for over half a day to completely recover.

She vaguely remembered waking up a few times to eat a bit or use the bathroom, but most of her memories were just a hazy recollection of pain under her throbbing head. Had her food really been delivered by a robot? Not like an oversize Roomba or anything, but an actual walking, talking robot?

'Well, this place is a Tinker's hideout.' she reasoned. She didn't know a lot about Tinkers other than the fact that they were capes whose powers turned them into mad scientists. So her savior having a robot maid or something like that wasn't too much of a stretch.

Grrrrrnnn~!

Dinah felt her cheeks burn as her stomach suddenly decided to remind her that she had eaten very little since breakfast before her kidnapping. She needed to find some food.

"Uhmmm…hello?" she called out tentatively. She couldn't remember asking for food yesterday, it had just seemingly been brought in at random. There weren't any clocks or even a window here, so she had no idea how long she'd been here or when she'd actually been brought the meal she'd only nibbled at yesterday.

"Greetings, Augury." a smooth, slightly tinny, female voice replied. Quickly looking around, Dinah noticed a set of speakers set into the wall next to the door. "Have you recovered from your ailment?"

"Uh, y-yeah…thank you?" the preteen replied nervously. "Err…I was wondering if I could have some food…please?"

"Of course." the voice replied immediately. "I will have something brought up; it should only take a few minutes."

As the voice clicked off, Dinah collapsed back onto her bed, absently rubbing at her still grumbling tummy. "How long has it been since I ate?" she couldn't recall ever feeling as hungry as she was now.

Luckily it really only did take a few minutes for food to arrive. The same female-shaped robot that she vaguely remembered delivering her last meal stepped into the room carrying a tray holding a large bowl, a jug of milk, a box of cereal and what looked like a bowl of diced fruit. The machine's glowing blues eyes were all that Dinah needed to see to know that her savior was the one who'd built it.

"Mistress Riptide was unsure about your preferences when it came to sustenance, so this is merely intended to tide you over until you can provide us that information and a suitable meal be prepared." the female robot offered helpfully as she smoothly placed the tray and its contents onto the bed.

"Thank you…er…I'm sorry but what do I call you?" Dinah asked, not sure how to address the surprisingly human-like machine.

"Mistress has given me the designation 'Salacia.'" the artificial being answered. "However, should you encounter me while I am in my combat suite alongside Mistress Riptide, please refer to me as 'Trident.'"

"Okay, thank you." the girl nodded as she prepared her cereal. Salacia? The name itself sounded odd to Dinah's ears. Maybe it was a foreign? "Er…can I speak to Riptide?"

"Mistress Riptide is currently working on a project in one of the secured laboratories." Salacia informed her. "She has been notified that you are awake and will likely be out soon in order to speak with you."

"Oh, okay." Dinah agreed cautiously as she started to dig into her cereal. "What time is it anyway?"

"It is now 6:47 AM Eastern Standard Time." the robot responded clinically. "You have been asleep for just over thirty-five hours, not counting the roughly thirty minutes you briefly awakened to eat, drink and use the facilities yesterday."

Dinah's nearly choked as her eyes bugged out. She'd never slept that long before! What the hell had happened!?

"From your expression, can I assume that this is not a common occurrence?" Salacia queried.

"N-No. The longest I've ever slept is somewhere close to sixteen hours, and that was only after the first time I really pushed my powers too far." the small Thinker explained, still stunned.

"Was that anything approaching the level that you were forced to use your powers while you were being abducted?" Salacia responded, her head canting to the side as her eyes glowed slightly.

"Not even close." Dinah offered with a grimace and a shake of her head. "Right now, I can only safely answer four questions a day. I can pull off six, but I end up getting a horrible headache afterwards. That time I pushed myself I managed eight, but I think I asked at least ten the day I was kidnapped."

"Explanation achieved. You severely over-stressed your power during your abduction." the machine deducted logically. "My databases point out that all Parahuman powers can be trained to a degree. By pushing your limits slightly, one can improve their power over time and new uses discovered or deduced. You simply pushed your own ability too far at once, causing a form of negative backlash. Advisement: It would be wise not to do so again."

"No need to tell me twice." the young Parahuman agreed with a bit of snark as she returned to her cereal and fruit. "My head felt like someone had taken a hammer and cracked it open. I could barely see near the end thanks to the pain…"

"Parahuman Profile Update, pain levels from extensive overuse of Augury's Parahuman power, have been logged." Salacia stated quietly. "Focus on your food for now. I shall return to retrieve both the tray and yourself once Mistress Riptide has returned. She wishes to administer the PRT's Thinker Testing Protocols in order to gauge the total strength of your Thinker abilities, if you are willing."

"Why?" Dinah asked, looking up from her cereal again.

"She believes it will be useful in convincing your uncle, the Mayor, that you are indeed a Parahuman and that she is not lying or making excuses." Salacia explained. "It is likely that Mayor Christner currently believes that your kidnapping was due to his position as opposed to anything else. A thorough understanding of the strength and utility of your power will likely make it far easier to convince him otherwise."

"Oh." the girl blinked in thought for a moment before nodding in understanding. That made a lot of sense. Given how her parents had done their best to keep her 'flights of fancy' and 'pert sassing' as quiet as possible, her uncle likely did have no idea that she was Parahuman.

"Enjoy your breakfast." the robot offered politely as she left the room, leaving Dinah to munch on some Captain Crunch.

+++Riptide+++

Later

Main Lab, Nevermore

"Sweet hell." I muttered to myself as I finished looking over the results that Amphitrite had just finished calculating. I'd stopped trying to censor my language after an annoyed Dinah had pointed out that she'd heard far worse from her schoolmates.

"What's wrong?" the subject of said results asked, looking up worriedly.

"If these Testing Protocols are anything close to accurate Augury, then you're at least a Thinker 8, maybe even a 9." I answered in disbelief. "Given that that the only things to have ratings over 10 are the fucking Endbringers, then it should tell you something."

"Oh…" the girl gulped, likely realizing just what that meant. There were very few Parahumans who possessed power ratings that high on the charts, and Thinkers were the rarest to have that kind of rating, No wonder there was someone attempting to kidnap her; if they had even the slightest idea of just how powerful her ability was…

"This does not bode well, Mistress Riptide." Amphitrite stated clinically, her holographic projecting appearing above the globe as it usually did. "Augury's Parahuman ability is not only exceptionally powerful, but also one of the most useful forms of Thinker powers. The number of Parahuman groups that would desire this kind of ability the world over would be innumerable, and the Protectorate would be chief amongst them."

"No kidding." I agreed with a nod, before turning to explain why to Dinah. "From what the files I received from Toybox explained, the PRT has an exclusive Intelligence Branch containing Thinkers, Strangers, and even some Tinkers, that it refers to as Watchdog. Their headquarters is based out of San Francisco, but they've got bases scattered all over the continental US. Any non-combat Thinker who joins the Protectorate gets shunted into Watchdog, even Wards get regularly transferred to branches where there's a Watchdog branch if their power is useful enough."

"That...doesn't sound too bad..." Dinah offered, though she was frowning. "Is there a Watchdog branch in Brockton Bay?"

"Nope. Toybox doesn't know all of their offices, but there definitely isn't one here. Nearest one they and I know about is in Newark, New Jersey." I shook my head.

That clearly alarmed her. "Chance that I'll be forced to join Watchdog if I join the Protectorate?" she said, before answering herself immediately. "87.89997%. NO!"

I quickly got up and moved to kneel next to the upset girl. "Dinah, shh. Calm down."

"B-But...you heard my power!" Dinah said, eyes glistening with tears. "I've never gotten a full hundred-percent answer, but anything over a seventy-five is almost guaranteed to occur if I don't do something to change it! If I join them, I'll be forced to leave my home and family behind!"

"Chances that joining them will keep you safe from being kidnapped by the same person who orchestrated the last attempt?" I asked quickly. We needed to be sure whether or not it was even a safe option before we even tried to move forward.

"15.6728%" Dinah answered automatically, the numbers seemingly leaving her of their own accord. Her face rapidly contorting as she realized that the distasteful option of either forcing her family to leave her home, or even being taken from her family itself, wouldn't keep her safe. "How!?" she whispered; her voice strained with barely contained panic.

"Likely some kind of ambush when you are transferred out of the city. Maybe grabbing your parents instead to force you to obey them…the bastard doesn't play by even the Unwritten Rules of Parahumans, so we can't be sure what he'd try." I stated, frowning in thought. "Damn it, this guy's probably got some kind of connections if they're able to do something like that outside of the Bay itself."

Most Villain Capes or even Cape Gangs in the US weren't capable of doing much outside their own territory, which usually didn't extend much farther than the outskirts of the city they were based in and maybe some of the surrounding area. Only the biggest had any form of influence outside their own territories. The Elite, a criminal Cape Organization that was rumored to be second only to the Protectorate itself in term of Cape membership, were said to have at least a few members in at least one major city in every state across the country. More moderate, and realistic, estimates said that they had a presence in at least eight states.

They were the biggest exception to the rule, but the point still stood. Only groups with a lot of power or influence could really affect things outside their own stomping grounds. That Dinah's attempted abductor could still get to her even if she left the Bay was a chilling thought.

I scowled a moment later and marshaled my resolve. If this guy was going to try and get their hand on Dinah, they'd have to go through me first.

"Dinah listen to me, okay?" I said firmly, making the girl, who looked on the edge of tears, look up at me. "I don't know how we're going to solve this problem. I don't know who is behind this or how to find them…yet, but I will tell you one thing I know for sure: if the bastard wants you, they're going to need a lot more than a pack of mercs with laser guns if they want to get past me. So long as I've got any say in the matter, you're going to be safe. I'll promise you that."

The next thing I knew, I had an armful of crying twelve-year-old girl. Hesitating for a moment, I gently hugged her back, rubbing her back soothingly. Once her tears subsided, I decided she needed something to take her mind off of what we'd just discussed.

"How about we design a costume for you, huh?" I said cajolingly. "We can even display it on the screen over there so you can have a preview of it before it's even been fabricated. How does that sound?"

Dinah sniffed before nodding. "S-Sure. Sounds fun."

As I led Dinah over to the machine I'd built especially for this event, I started wracking my brains on how to help her. A lot depended on her uncle and parents, but I had the nucleus of a plan formed by the time Dinah had eliminated several outlined designs I had preloaded onto the computer, although she had marked a couple as interesting.

Beneath my mask, a smirk crossed my face. Time to get to Tinkering.