Chapter 17
It was an almost physical, visceral feeling of wrongness as I led Rhea to the suit room. I expected the door to be as resistant as I was, but it opened smoothly.
I flicked the light on, and Rhea rolled past me into the room.
I would have felt less exposed if I had been naked on national television.
Rhea made an impressed sound as she looked around. "I won't lie," she said. "I was worried you had it upstairs." She rolled up to my suit, held upright in its rig.
"I live up there," I answered weakly.
"I figured," she replied, reaching out to run a hand along the suit's still-marred exterior. I hadn't yet had time to repair the damage from the fight with Electrocoil.
"The country normally sees a couple dozen vigilantes a year," Rhea said, looking up at the headless suit. "Most are powered people, but little-p powers. They usually don't survive long enough to be caught by the police." She turned to look at me.
"Not many show up with a battle mech." She rolled her eyes. "Suit," she corrected herself, "and survive as long as you have." She turned back to the armor. "Now we just need to get you trained up so you stop making a fool of yourself."
"Here I thought you only had good things to say." I crossed my arms, trying to hide my discomfort. I had never imagined another soul would be in this room. Not with me still living, at least.
"Your faults seem to outweigh the positives," she said almost dismissively. "If I'm going to help you, you're going to need to explain all of your kit to me."
"Not that I get a choice on your help," my snark slipped through.
"You don't. And don't be a baby about it either, or it'll be more painful for both of us." She shot me a hard side-eye. "Let's start big. How does the power work?"
I stood there quietly for a second. This felt so wrong. I had been alone and at least felt secure not an hour ago. Now this woman wanted direct access to my two most valuable secrets… with a smile, apparently.
"If you're going to make me ask every question a couple of times, you'll need to make me a coffee first," she prodded.
I let a breath out through my teeth and started talking. She already had enough on me, what's the harm now?
"As you probably guessed, I power the suit with a Suncore," I began. "There's a socket in the backpack of the suit."
"You plug that thing right into the suit? I heard it melts most things it's connected to. That's why they're on special platforms—it's to control the throughput or something." She was clearly trying to remember the details.
"Yeah, I blew up the first thing I plugged it into," I said. "The actual job of the power pack it plugs into is to restrict the power input to something I can use safely." I avoided going into the technical details. "I still can't figure out what its maximum output is—or much of anything else."
I walked over to the big metal storage vault that held the cores while I spoke. "I've tried to study them, but my time and resources have been tight, and they're not simple devices."
"I didn't understand why Techshield wouldn't have trackers on all of them. It's not like he couldn't afford them." She rolled around the suit to come up beside me. "As far as I know, you're the first to steal one, but people have tried before. It always struck me as strange that he wasn't prepared for it."
"I thought so too. When I was making the deal for the hacking device, I also asked for some way to eliminate or remove any tracking device. Or at least block them until I could figure something out," I explained, remembering that conversation. "I was told the source was absolutely sure there was no internal tracking system on the cores. The containers had one, but not the cores themselves."
I unlocked the vault and removed one of the fist-sized cubes that glowed faintly. "The best I can figure is that the material it's made of blocks signals, or the power it puts out would melt one."
"The material it's made of?" Rhea repeated.
"I have no idea what it's made of," I admitted. "It's some kind of metal alloy, but I can't figure out what kind. At least not without breaking it open."
She looked at the cube and reached out toward it. "Can I hold it? Is it hot?"
I suddenly regretted pulling it out. "It's not hot. Just a little warm," I said, without offering it.
I hesitated another second, then slowly placed the device in her hand.
"Wow," she said, turning the cube over as she inspected it. "It's heavier than it looks. And the heat almost feels like it's moving." She flipped it over a couple more times before offering it back. "You could sell that and live a rich life."
"If money mattered, maybe," I said as I placed it back into the vault.
She looked at the vault for a couple of seconds before speaking again. "I remember you stealing three Suncores," she said, pointing at the vault. "But I only see space for two."
I let the question hang in the air. "I did say I made a deal I would probably come to regret," I said more quietly.
It didn't take her long to put it together. "You sold it, for the thing you used to hack his system." She paused, thinking it through. "So that's how you were able to 'buy' such a high-level piece of kit. But why would they offer you something that valuable before payment?"
"Probably a gamble," I answered. "The device fried itself after it was done. I have a feeling if I'd been caught, or left it behind, it wouldn't have given any insight into its maker." I shrugged. "So it must have seemed like a risk worth taking."
She thought about that for a moment. "So one of those cores is in the criminal network?"
She blew out a breath. "I'm not sure I would have done the same." Her words lacked conviction. "But I understand."
"That was my last interaction with Rena," I said. "Forever."
"She doesn't seem to think so." She twirled her finger in the air. "I got the feeling she's keeping tabs on you."
That wasn't a pleasant thought. "How?"
She shrugged. "No idea. Just a feeling I had when talking to her." She looked at me, then around the shop. "But if I were her, I wouldn't be willing to let someone like you off the hook. Not easily, anyway."
We didn't speak again for a moment. Then she clapped her hands together.
"Okay, so you'll need to show me the suit's capabilities, but we can do that later. You've shown me where you take care of the suit, let's see where you take care of you." She changed tack.
It took me a second to respond. "Oh—ah," I said awkwardly. "Sure, the bathroom is over there under the second floor." I pointed.
She rolled her eyes. "No. Where do you exercise, or whatever you do to keep your body running?"
"Oh." I suddenly felt a little dumb. "I, ah…" I started. "I don't really need to worry about working out. The suit does all the lifting."
The look she gave me strongly reminded me of my mother.
"Maybe weightlifting isn't too important, but it's still your body moving, isn't it? That means you still need a healthy cardio system." She waited for me to respond, but when I didn't, she added, "And a fit body will both handle injuries better and recover faster."
"I don't really have the time," I started.
"Oh, shut up. You have time to build a robot, you can spend forty minutes running." She cut the argument short. "Starting tomorrow, you'll be doing a morning workout."
"Hold on. I still haven't agreed to even take your help, much less let you run everything I do!" I seethed. "I never asked you to be here!"
"Yet by divine intervention I still arrived." She lifted her arms in the air. "And be it by divine providence, or by my will, you will start taking this all seriously. Or so help me God, I will roll your ass to jail myself and find someone else who can help me get my brother back!"
"What part of anything you've just seen makes you think I'm not taking this seriously?" I shot back.
"Everything! You've had what, one successful mission?" she asked. "Out of what, five?" She finished with a snort.
"I dealt with Ringmaster!" I snapped. "And it depends on how you classify success."
"I classify success as success. Not surviving by accident!" She flicked a stray lock of hair out of her face. "And did you forget I investigated the Ringmaster killing?" she continued. "You killed them, but it was clear nothing went to plan, if you had one at all."
The image of me kicking in the front door, shown on the news, flashed through my head. "He's dead and can't make any more of those hybrids!"
"And what about Rat King? Is he still out there?" The heat in her eyes blazed at his name. "How about the Pride Pack? Did that go to plan?"
"I got overwhelmed—" I started to defend myself.
"And setting the city on fire? That was the goal, right?" she spat. "It's a legitimate miracle you're still alive."
The fresh guilt about the damage from my last fight stopped any retort.
"So yes, you are going to listen to me," she continued, "because whatever you think, you need me." She slapped the armrest of the wheelchair. "And because life has a twisted sense of humor, I need you." Her anger at the end didn't sound directed at me.
"So you'd better get whatever problem you have with this new arrangement under control, because I'm here to stay!" she finished.
I threw my hands up and walked away.
I was halfway up the stairs when I realized I was leaving her alone in my workshop. I stopped and looked back at her.
"Fuck," I said before continuing up.