kk

My mind keeps going back to those phasic autoguns. The principle is remarkably straight forward: a fully automatic weapon that accelerates an osmium-shelled projectile through a scatter field that spreads the mass across about a dozen different adjacent dimensions. The effect is short lived, relying on a core with a phase shift "anchor" of sorts that pulls the scattered mass back into alignment with our universe on impact. By this time, of course, the projectile is usually embedded in its target and the scattered mass frequently attempts to occupy the same space as other atoms. Not many of them, but enough to cause angstrom scale interactions that are decidedly bad for the target; the universe protests violently when two protons attempt to occupy the same volume. The projectile typically subverts armor, breaks important molecules, and on failure to penetrate frequently degrades into scattered high energy particles, plasma, and x-rays. Against medium-hard targets, not terrible-- if you don't mind collateral.

Under most circumstances, the idea of making something like that is horrifying. Nightmare weapons, capable of killing with extreme ease. The real problem is, everything I can think of is somehow worse. Negative energy weapons, antimatter, cluster nukes, phason conversion beams-- it's like my tinker power starts off at war crimes and escalates from there. I'm actually okay with war crimes against him, though. The problem is going to be building something to use against him without him catching on.

If I'm going to catch him off guard and get free, I can't ever let the Boss know the extent of what I can make. I have no doubt that he can probably find a way to neutralize me or my control over them-- and worst case scenario, take control of them himself. I don't want to imagine what he could do with robots armed with guns like those.

As my loaner minions continue moving parts into place under my direction, I give some thought to the generator. Built correctly, it won't need maintenance for decades. Built incorrectly, it won't need maintenance for weeks, until it explodes catastrophically without warning. That's pretty much suicidal, but considering how I was recruited? If I haven't escaped by then... do I still want to be alive?

It hits me again, the knowledge that Dad probably thinks I'm dead by now. And the Bitch Trio...

Holy shit. Did they do this? Is this why they have immunity to everything in Winslow? Is one of them working for or related to the Boss? It fits almost too neatly. They wanted to lull me into a false sense of security. But does that mean they knew I'm a tinker? Or was that just a happy accident?

No, I'm over thinking. There's no evidence for that. But it is a possibility.

"That's enough for the night," the Boss says. "Meanwhile, Livewire, I have a special treat for you tonight."

A treat? That's an interesting way of putting it. I shrug, turning to face him through the presumably bullet proof glass. "Woof," I say sarcastically. Wow, the brain-mouth filter is completely offline today, isn't it?

"Such cheek," he comments. I can hear the amusement in his voice. "Another man might be offended. But I'm not. And do you know why?"

I shrug. "No idea."

"Because, at the end of the day, you are exactly what I thought you'd be: intelligent, capable, driven. You have fire in you. Do you know how long you've worked since I brought you here?"

"No," I reply, feigning boredom.

"My dear Tattletale, how long has she worked? How many hours?"

Lie Detector-- or Tattletale, I guess-- pipes up, "One hundred three." Her voice is cheerful but she seems a bit off. Resentful? And if so, is she resentful of me or the Boss?

"One hundred three hours, that's two and a half weeks of full time labor." The Boss tilts his head, the snake pattern looking like a curious snake. "It's fascinating. See, you enjoy this. For the first time in your life, you have direction, a goal, a way to define yourself that doesn't revolve around your mother, your best friend, your bullies. One of whom used to be your best friend."

I feel like I just got sideswiped. How does he know about all that? Then again, how did he know about me at all? He gestures mildly at me, continuing, "And yet you're defiant. You're stubborn." I start to bristle, until he continues, "But you are worth something. In fact, you're worth quite a lot, no matter what the less worthwhile around you tried to convince you of. It's why you're here. It's why I had to go to the lengths I went to, why I gave you the terrible choice I gave you when you were first brought here. The trouble with you, is you've never gotten a fair shake."

If I hadn't been paying attention to her, trying to gauge her, trying to understand who she was mad at, I wouldn't have caught the brief flick of her eyes in the Boss's direction. Another piece of evidence? Her eyes meet mine for a split second and I see the faintest hint of a smile, before her features are all business once more.

"All you needed was a push. A reason. Motivation." The Boss looks over at Lie Detector/Tattletale, before looking back at me. "And in six days, you have made this."

Almost without willing it, I look over what I've built. My first real power generator. Yes, it's ugly. And crude. But even so...

Well, maybe I don't want to sabotage it after all. I could. It would be easy.

But I don't think I will.