The hardest part of dealing with a revelation like that was the idea that maybe Paul wasn’t the total monster I had considered him. I mean, thinking of the horrible shit I would do to him when I saw him again was one of the things that got me through my imprisonment.

I probably wouldn’t have done those things, but I would have definitely kicked his ass, broken a few bones, and then probably fed him a healing potion so I could do it all over again.

Copperhead had mentioned several times that Paul had sold me out. And like an idiot, even though this was the guy that enslaved me, I never even considered the fact that he could be lying to me. I mean, the guy was a total douchebag, past tense, and a sadist. Destroying someone’s hopes by telling them their last living relative betrayed them would be right up his alley, right?

Looking at The Lair from this angle, it looked kind of like a stretched-out hard-boiled egg that had been cut in half, with the yolk left in place while the top white half was removed. The dome was the yolk, glittering plates of something likely much stronger than glass lined with lights that were currently unlit. We were standing on a deck that was clearly intended for aircraft, that led to the edge of the yolk where a huge boxy structure at the front of the yoke could be lifted to form a conning and aircraft tower. The amount of automation was rather impressive and would be even more so if I could actually find a power supply and a crew.

If this was going to be home I needed to do a lot more exploring. Especially the dome. It had plants in it, that much was clearly obvious, and a herd of chickens, or was that a flock or clutch? If they were living unsupervised except for by drones, I had to wonder just how many of them were alive in the dome.

I dropped down to the deck and turned off my aura, starting to pound out pushups as I spoke with Sif, “So, how long do you think it will take Galactica to show up?” I asked her.

She raised an eyebrow and sat down cross-legged on the metal, “What makes you think Galactica is going to show up?” she asked.

“Because she has two jobs. She and Commander Freedom are not Prometheans. They are supposed to help out during invasions, and when a particular supervillain starts causing too many problems she is supposed to help deal with them if the Prometheans can’t. She has been chasing Cadmium for a while, and all of a sudden one of his fortresses shows up and then submerges itself. Every time the Prometheans try to stop him, they either get their asses handed to them, or he gets away. I may not have Alison’s abilities, but even I can lay odds that even though this thing is smaller than a tanker, and is not flying or invisible right now, she most likely has some way of tracking it.”

She pulled out her mini phone, “I already contacted her. She wanted to wait until we finished arguing before she showed up. I know you say that those Kaiju were a joke, but from her point of view, you blew through four of them that even the Commander couldn’t handle. She’s powerful as hell, but I think she might actually be a little scared of you, and knowing you took one of these fortresses is just another dart on the board. As long as you aren’t holding governments hostage or trying to blow up the world she doesn’t want to get on your bad side.”

“She’s a class B. She could kick my ass in seconds or burn me where I stand. I have no idea what cosmic power control is, or if I could even block or avoid it,” I panted as I broke 150 fast.

Sif nodded, “Yes, but remember, she’s been doing this for a while, but she’s used to having a team of information people backing her up. She’s only 19, and right now Proteus and the DMA are both being kind of close-lipped about you, I think because they don’t know anything other than your history.”

I nodded and started doing one-handed pushups, “I suppose that makes sense. Still, according to you, I owe her a favor for the Oni thing. Unlike you, I don’t have her number on speed dial, and I need to figure out what she needs. Not to mention, I need some information from you as well if I am going to be doing what I set out to do in the first place.”

“What kind of information do you need?” She asked, stepping over and depositing her muscular butt on the small of my back. I grinned and started pushups with her not inconsiderable extra weight. “You mentioned Asgard and places like that. I assume these are in a different dimension or something?”

She tapped my shoulder and said, “No. Originally they were on special planes, but after the magic was sealed they were forced to earth, just like Olympus. If you have the magic to ride the rainbow bridge, you will find yourself deposited on an island near Norway, protected by the Allfather with invisibility. Most of the realms are the same. Nifelheim is in the South Pole, Jotunheim is in Greenland, Svartalfheim is deep inside of the Rocky Mountains, Muspelheim is someplace in the ring of fire, but Surtr is keeping it hidden, and the same goes for Vanaheim and Alfheim.”

She shrugged, “The planes were not actually that big, and hiding them is still possible, although it may not be possible forever. As far as Helheim is concerned, as far as we can tell, that’s one of the places the invasions are coming from.”

Sif smiled a little, “Galactica isn’t coming in. She gave me something to give to you, though, and said that if you could figure out what it was and where it came from, possibly what it does if it’s what she thinks it is, she will consider herself in your debt, but whatever it is scares the shit out of her.”

“It scares Galactica? She’s a class B, capable of laying waste to entire cities and absorbing incredible amounts of any sort of energy. What could scare her?”

Sif shrugged, “I don’t know, and that’s the problem. She said that she didn’t have anyone she could trust to take a look at it, which is where things get really weird, I mean, she has all of Proteus as her handlers, right? Why would she trust you, no offense?”

I grinned a little, “None taken. Maybe whatever it is involves Proteus itself. I am known to not willingly have any connection to them. Is it possible that’s why she was looking for Cadmium so hard? Not to drag him to justice, but to get the input of someone that isn’t connected to Proteus?”

Sif nodded, “It’s possible. Still, I think we should get inside so I can let you have what she gave me. She warned me not to be exposed when I handed it over, but after what I thought was going on with you and Paul I wasn’t really sure if I should give it to you at all. Now I know that you are a sweetheart but kind of stupid rather than a dishonorable wretch, which is a slight improvement.”

I raised an eyebrow, “I thought you were planning on beating the stupid out of me?”

She shrugged, “That will happen eventually, just not today.” We headed back through the hatch into the interior of the ship, and I started walking back towards the dome. I wanted to see what it hid, and while I had gotten good looks from the outside while we were underwater, mostly I had just seen a lot of green and the top of some kind of stanchion.

“The problem is, you seem to have only two modes of thought. It’s like, you either just react to everything on the small scale, or if you go proactive, you set up an overarching goal and just expect everything to fall in line.”

I nodded, “That’s exactly right. I can push myself, or I can push a goal, but I tend to get lost in the minutiae if I try to constantly consider every aspect, and lose focus. My pop use to say I would make a decent officer or a decent soldier, but a terrible sergeant, because I was hyper-gigo.”

“Hyper-gigo?” She asked curiously.

I nodded, “Garbage in, garbage out. When it’s just me I can react to keep my ass alive, and when I have good information I have no problems acting on a large scale, but if my information is crap I will still act on it because I am a sucker. Most officers fail because they cannot make decisions or can’t separate information from aspiration, I fail because I cannot gather the right information before I make a decision.”

She smirked at me as I continued, “That’s why I need sergeants. The best part of my powers is that I can tell when people are being sincere with me, but when I have to guess I usually err on the side of trusting people, even the wrong people, or overlooking details, like forgetting to ask Windfall what was likely to happen when we stepped on the bridge of The Lair and how to disarm it.”

I grinned at her, “But you are sincere, and you think on that level. You’re basically a sergeant type, the kind that is necessary to keep someone like me from failing constantly. Windfall stated that I am no good at making allies unless I am boinking someone, but I want to change that. Do you want a job?”

I leaned forward and carefully brushed my fingers over Sif’s chin, closing her mouth. I mean, I had seen people surprised before, but flabbergasted was kind of new to see on someone’s face.

“Why me?” She finally asked, shrugging away from my hand.

I sighed. “Because, first of all, you won’t hesitate to tell me when my conclusion is wrong, and where I made the mistaken assumption so I can fix it. Secondly, you seem to want to sincerely be a good guy, not a celebrity. Not that you would mind having your ego flattered a bit, but it’s not your core reason for doing it.”

She nodded, “You know who my father is, right?”

I nodded, “Yeah, but you aren’t your father. Sure, you love a good fight, but you aren’t the kind of hardcore femme domme you play on TV. I don’t need a submissive. I mean, I do need a submissive, for personal assistant type stuff that I keep letting slide because I get too busy, but what I need is a lieutenant, which is why I wanted to ask you this before we started flirting too much.”

I sighed, “Baldwin was awesome, and I miss the guy, but his loyalty was to his job. Your loyalty is to your friends, your responsibilities, and to what you consider the right and honorable things to do. You also aren’t a Meta. You could give a shit about the DMA and their version of Kayfabe. You only follow their crap because it lets you use your abilities openly without getting branded as a loose cannon vigilante.”

She nodded slowly, “Okay, potential future employer, what do you have to offer?”

I looked around as we stepped out of the passageway into a forest, or at least that’s what the inside of the dome looked like. There was a large house set in the middle, near a set of pillars that crossed the area, and it looked like a piece of Georgia farm transplanted into a science fiction setting.

“Not a whole lot. Funding, of course, once I get some supply lines set up. Some of my products are illegal, according to the DMA, but I swear you will have oversight on what goes out so you can prevent really destructive products if I don’t notice the threat. I can offer some safety since I do intend to turn this into a haven for your family to train without getting chased down by monsters. You still need to tell me how that works, though.”

“Once we get The Lair back up to power, I intend to take it into the fight in Siberia, so it might not be completely safe. I figured that would give your contemporaries a good chance to get some fighting experience, though. Also, I can offer my powers and abilities with Alchemy. Right now, my ingredients are the limiting factor. Without legendary ingredients, I cannot do much to help boost Scions, but I might have a way to get those sorts of ingredients soon.”

I thought about it, “I’ve figured out the basics for enhancing stuff like weapons and armor, and if you have a goal, tell me about it and I’ll make sure that it is addressed as high a priority as I possibly can?”

She smiled a little and sat down in the grass between the trees. “So basically, you are offering a whole bunch of potential promises that might not pan out, an HQ that might not be safe, the potential to get on the supervillain list if we piss off the DMA or Proteus, some drug-fueled cash that I might not be able to easily spend, and the ability to bend your ear if I call you master and become your minion.”

I laughed, “Pretty much, yeah, except for the master thing. That only comes up if you decide you want to do some roleplaying. Also, while I cannot promise we won’t have to do some of that kayfabe shit, I mostly hate it. It might be useful to play the roles, but it’s something I am terrible at.”

She nodded slowly, “Yeah, you are.”

I grinned, “You are a warrior, you know damned good and well that there are some threats you have to end. I consider Blackhawk’s whole ‘due process’ thing to be just another form of kayfabe. If you witness someone doing something horrible, why would you dump the responsibility for dealing with it off on strangers?”

Sif laughed, “You know that means you need to hire someone else, right?”

“I do? What do you mean?” I asked.

“Unless you plan to never talk to anyone, with that kind of attitude, certain people will come out of the woodwork to try and support you. That might be good, but it will make every super team on the DMA’s list put you in their political crosshairs. You need a publicist, and you need to stay off social media.”

I nodded, “Stay off social media will be easy. Why do I need a publicist?”

Sif chuckled, “You remember The Crane?”

I nodded, “Yeah, he dropped out of the hero biz after it came out that he was like a wifebeater or something?”

She shook her head, “Not even slightly. He got caught on tape admitting that he was disgusted with all the actresses and celebrities that were chasing him. He said they would beg him to fuck them in the ass in elevators in hopes of just being connected to him.”

“Huh,” I said eloquently.

She nodded, “Right, well, a singer was tearing him apart on social media, Melina Klinger? Calling him an ass rapist. It was rough, but it was something he could have weathered. But he goofed and posted on social media that she was a celebrity, a monkey trained to perform when you put the coin in the box and twisted the handle. He told her to shut up and dance instead of trying to be a politician, and implied that she was the one that begged him to do her in the elevator.”

I nodded slowly, and she added, “She’s black.”

“Oh shit,” I said.

She nodded, “Right. Overnight he became an ass-raping racist that liked abusing women. No one now even remembers who Melina Klinger was, except a few hard-core R&B fans, but overnight he lost his sponsorship for the Prometheans, all of his commercial construction work, and two years later he was in Stronghold.”

She sighed. “You are high profile waiting to happen. You can create potions that can turn normal people into metahumans, or improve metahumans by full classifications. I can guarantee that there are recordings of everything you said and did when you were activating the great lakes teams. How long do you think, once you start facing off against the DMA or Proteus, even if it’s indirectly before those recordings come out? Bear in mind, I promise they will be doctored to make you look as bad as possible. You have some stuff you want to distribute legitimately, but after a good trash job, the only ones that would touch you would be the cartels, and they already want to touch you for a different reason.”

She shrugged, “You are strong, dear, but can you take on entire task forces of class C metas by yourself? You get a reputation for being some kind of supremacist, and anyone with a bone to pick or a desire to look relevant will be gunning for you before you can blink. Even Cadmium had a contract with a publicity company and a law office that was more than willing to jump on anyone that slandered or libeled him. The only thing that keeps those people in line is fear, and short of executing anyone that dares publish a bad word about you, that means you have to hire worse villains than you to keep your name clear.”

She smiled, “You may be willing to play the villain, but you are not a murderer. I can’t see you running around cutting journalists in half.”

I grinned at her, “See, that’s exactly why I need you to work for me. I never even considered that, I don’t have the background. My goals are to protect the people I care about, stop the invasions, and try to bring down the cartels. Hell, even making money is just a means to an end, and I also wanted to finish medical school.”

She smiled a little bit and then handed me a pair of small vials of glowing blue fluid. “I will think about it. I was just wondering if maybe you were using it as an excuse to get into my pants.” Fortunately, I could tell she was teasing.

I inspected the vial, I assume what Galactica wanted me to look at, and got very nervous.

Unnamed Extract of power replication

Value: 3,000,000

Aspects: density, energy, kinetics

Power: 100

Active Meta-Tech

This potion will allow an individual to mimic Commander Freedom’s powers for the next 26 minutes. It has been absorbed directly from his body and recreated in a fluid form that must be injected to be effective.

These powers include kinetic flight, kinetic eye beams, extreme absorption of nearly all forms of energy, and class B strength.

This potion will kill anyone less powerful than a class C metahuman.

This potion is metatech tied to its source, not its creator. If at any time Commander Freedom’s body dies, the power will immediately cease to function.

Unnamed Extract of power replication

Value: 1,000,000

Aspects: Energy, body, water

Power: 50

Active Meta-Tech

This potion will allow an individual to mimic Seagull’s powers for the next 18 minutes. It has been absorbed directly from her body and recreated in a fluid form that must be injected to be effective.

These powers include energy flight, Water control, extreme durability, and liquid immunity.

This potion will kill anyone less powerful than a class D metahuman.

This potion is metatech tied to its source, not its creator. If at any time Seagull’s body dies, the power will immediately cease to function.

These extracts were definitely not the same as mine. They were not made the same way and were probably created by a metahuman. “Sif, Do you know a metahuman named Seagull?”

Sif shook her head for a moment, and then looked thoughtful, “I used to? A long time ago, almost 30 years ago, there was an eco-terrorist by that name. She would sink Japanese Whalers. She was popular among the Greenpeace set, but every time she sank a ship she didn’t bother saving the sailors and built up quite a stack of murders before Ignition and the current Prometheans took her down.”

“If she’s still alive she’s probably in a holding facility somewhere, but it’s been long enough that she’s probably dead. She had eight consecutive life sentences but enough of a stink was made about her Saving the Planet when she was arrested and tried that her lawyer was able to plead mental instability, and it didn’t help that at the time Nemo was arguing really hard for cetacean sapience.”

I nodded, “She’s alive. And this has moved way past disturbing into Twilight Zone. I guess I don’t have to tell you I need to talk to her one on one. Where did she get these? Who made them? And what are they used for?”

“What did you get?” She asked curiously, and we started heading back towards the control center.

“These are something called extracts. Apparently, someone can suck out a meta’s power, into these tubes, and then temporarily grant someone else their ability. They only work while the meta in question is still alive, or at least their body is, but I cannot see someone, especially Commander Freedom, willingly allowing someone to copy his powers in a way that could be used by anyone that was class C or better.”

Sif shook her head, “Not likely at all. He’s a big proponent of the Proteus Line that power in the wrong hands was asking to be misused.

Aquantis rejoined us for lunch, which was prepared by Camilla in the officer’s mess, a medium-sized lunchroom. Her drones were not particularly humanlike and tended to be locked into their stations, in this case, the food preparation area. Our lunch was a rather nice tuna roll sushi, Oyakodon which was a sort of custom-designed chicken fried rice, Miso and Teriyaki grilled Ahi, and a bunch of other stuff that was beyond my meager Japanese food identification skills. There were several touches, however, that was American enough that I suspected Camilla was using the internet as her recipe source.

The mess was extremely well-appointed and comfortable, with thick wooden captain’s chairs at each of a dozen tables as well as a much larger table where we were seated. A simple rolling drone wheeled out our food. The room was appointed in nautical style, with lots of seasoned wood and things like captain’s wheels and a decorative fishnet with dried starfish and shells making it look like a seriously upscale Long John Silver’s restaurant. There were several raised areas with individual tables surrounded by heavy wooden balconies accessible via two steps or a short ramp, and the lighting was tulip candelabras except for a deeper and taller crystal chandelier over, I guess, the Captain’s table where we were eating.

It looked like a lot of thought went into the decorating, making the whole room visible from the captain’s table while at the same time making each dining area feel intimate. It was odd that the place was a combination of luxury and utilitarianism, but maybe not too odd when you considered that this platform was probably Cadmium’s home as much as his workshop.

While we were eating, I asked Camilla about the Platform’s power.

“Most of the power is supplied by a thirty-to-one Tokamak reactor. Unfortunately, while it can be recharged easily enough from thermal vents, it’s cumbersome and cannot produce all of the power the platform needs to perform effectively. Adding more would only make the whole thing heavier and less efficient, so Cadmium invented a virtual fusion reactor that, unfortunately, was pure metatech, and ceased functioning when he did.”

“Thirty to one?” I asked, “I thought Tokomak reactors hadn’t even gotten down to one-to-one yet.”

She smiled a little, “Cadmium was a genius as much as a metagenius. He offered to sell the design on the international market, but several other players offered him a great deal more money not to sell it. I believe the basic design is still held by Darpa and its Chinese counterpart, or at least a special version he created for them that uses microfusion elements and geological core heating as a stabilizer, which is far less advanced but more efficient for an earthbound power generation facility.”

I sighed, “So we have a meta that created a true fusion reactor, that can create clean and sustainable energy using geologically unstable areas, and let me guess, the oil companies paid him billions and then threatened him if he released it?”

She shook her head, “No sir. Several governments paid him billions, and Proteus itself threatened to send the Prometheans if he stepped out of line. It is logical to assume that the energy monopolies were behind the decision, but while the stealth systems on the platforms are adequate, things such as energy signatures and air displacement are not so easily concealed. The Prometheans could have found and destroyed the platforms easily enough, and because of his supervillain status, such an action would have been lauded by the public. It did not help that many terrorist actions were attributed to him.”

She shrugged, “He was permitted to market a limited amount of anti-meta technology systems to private interests, as well as supplying government interests with such weaponry, but Proteus made it very clear that they valued stability in the world markets more than progress, and a lot of his refinements, such as the power suit he wore which would allow normal humans to meaningfully contest even powerful metahumans, the Tokamak upgrade, personal flight systems, seawater mining systems, and improved cybernetics and organ replacement were restricted heavily.”

“He was a machinist and physicist, not a chemist or biologist, a fact that he frequently bemoaned. He believed if he could get more cooperation from that bastard, whoever that bastard was, he could have resolved the power issues through biological means.”

I nodded, finishing up dinner, “Okay, this has been a lot of food for thought. Sif, I am going to drop you off near AC so you can have a clear head about what you plan on doing in the future, consider my offer, or decide if you want to be my enemy instead. You know what’s at stake. Aquantis, I will fill you in as to what’s going on and you can choose whether you want to stick with me or if your honor leads you elsewhere. I’m not planning to become a hermit like Cadmium did, but I can understand if you feel like you need to separate yourself from my activities. I have some serious research to do, some people to pick up, and some planning.”

“Camilla, re-engage stealth and put us in the air. Bring us to within 5 miles of the AC coast.”