Chapter 19: 2-2 Wave

Wave 2.2

2010, September 29: Brockton Bay, NH, USA

I knocked three times and waited outside Faultline's office, a matter of courtesy just in case she hadn't put on her mask yet. I found it funny that she did something similar to the Wards, but hey, if it worked.

Any idiot could look up the Palanquin's business license and find out that it was registered to one Melanie Fitts, a woman who looked more or less like Faultline would sans costume. Even so, it was the pageantry that was important. So long as she pretended to care about her mask, no one would have an excuse to blatantly disregard the unwritten rules. I stepped into the office and gave Newter and Labyrinth high fives before nodding to Gregor and Faultline.

"Evening," I said. I reached into my bag and pulled out a headset. "I dropped by to get Lab's sizes."

"Yeesh, take her out for dinner, first, man," Newter joked.

"Newter," Faultline said warningly.

"Fine, tough crowd."

"Dinner would be good," Labyrinth said softly. Behind that emerald mask of hers, it was impossible to tell whether or not she was joking.

"Ahem," I coughed awkwardly. Not knowing how to respond to that, I took out a notebook with the sketches and handed them to Labyrinth. She'd be the one wearing it after all. "By sizes, I mean the size of your head, neck, and shoulders. The shawl will need to wrap around your shoulders like a cape, preferably with corners that attach to your wrists so you can swirl it in front of yourself as a shield if you need to.

"This," I gestured to the headset, "will become a part of your new helmet. The helmet will have a user interface that you can use to control your stealth and shield functions."

"Your specialization gets more versatile by the day," Gregor hummed in that almost musical bass of his.

"Since I had the materials, I decided to tack on a force field generator." I pulled another module, a hexagonal clasp. On the next page of the notebook was a drawing of her helmet, forest green with emerald lines in a swirling maze pattern. "That's this thing, here. It'll double as a clasp to fix the shawl around her neck and to the helmet. Do you like the helmet's designs, Lab?"

Labyrinth remained silent. A minute passed, then five. The only reason I knew she hadn't somehow drifted off to sleep was because of the way her head would tilt sometimes. She looked it over then nodded slowly. "I like the maze pattern. Can I have the silhouette of a building on it?."

"Of course, you're the client. Send me a picture of the building you want. Oh, and did you want the maze pattern on the shawl as well?'

Another pause. This time, I saw her hand twitch towards something I couldn't see. "Helmet only, and can the shawl be green?"

"Will do. Now, I need you to go to the other room and take off your mask. You can wear a normal domino mask, but I need you to lose the hard face covering so I can see how I should size the helmet."

"Okay," she said quietly.

Faultline took her by the hand and walked her out the door.

Labyrinth, Elle, was a bit weird even by parahuman standards. I knew she was lucid, but it was hard to reconcile that with the way she would occasionally drift off sometimes, distracted by some vision of otherworldly architecture that only she could see. She was, at first glance, a low-functioning autistic, and I had to remind myself that she could understand me just fine. She was, for all intents and purposes, constantly living in two different worlds and this world did not always demand her attention.

A minute later, Labyrinth stepped back into the office with Faultline. She'd lost her baggy green robe and oblong facemask. Out of costume, she was a slender girl about my height with green eyes that matched her mask. Her platinum blonde hair fell to the sides of her face to frame a black domino mask. Her face had a timeless quality to it similar to my own. For all I knew, she could be a very youthful seventeen, or Vista's age.

"Okay, stand there," I said. I took the headset and wrapped it around her eyes. Once the straps wrapped around the sides and top of her skull, I tightened until they fit snugly. The hexagonal clasp was fixed to her collar and the headset. The fabric would extend from there to her knees. With a flick of my finger, the headset hummed to life. "Ignore the ambient noise for now. Labyrinth, can you see the green letters?"

She seemed to marvel for a moment, her mouth opening in a soft "o." Her hand reached out to touch the words but grasped nothing but air. "There are two words. One says 'cloak' and another says 'shield.'"

"Right. I tried to make it as user-friendly as I could. Focus your attention on the 'cloak' button for me. Then, blink twice." She must have done so, because the clasp around her neck shone green. "Excellent. Now blink twice again to turn it off."

It took some doing with Labyrinth's constant drifting, but I could tell she was trying to stay on task for our sakes. Once the cloaking function was calibrated, I had her do the same thing with the shield.

"Nothing's happening though," Newter said.

"Yeah, sorry to disappoint you, but tonight's just to calibrate the headset," I said. "The clasp doesn't have any of the tinkertech yet. It's just a placeholder to make sure the signal from the UI is traveling to where it needs to go. She'll look a lot more impressive when I get everything built, I promise."

"Swish, swish," Labyrinth said with a gentle smile as she waved her arms back and forth.

"Yeah, you'll be able to toss your shawl in front of you to stop bullets. That way, you'll be safe even if someone manages to find you through your maze." I took the headset off her and packed it back in my bag. "I should have this done by Sunday," I promised. If I rushed, I could possibly have it done faster, but I didn't feel like making more work for myself.

"We appreciate it," Faultline said.

"Thank you," Labyrinth added, her voice already sounded distant. She'd no doubt started to explore some ancient ruins now that her fitting was done.

"Nah, I'm getting a furnished lab out of this after all." I was about to leave then recalled something else I'd been meaning to build from One Piece. "Actually… how hard would it be for you to acquire volcanic ash in large quantities?"

"That's an odd request."

"Yup. It needs to come from an oceanic volcano, too. Islands like Hawaii, not a landlocked volcano like Mount. St. Helens."

"I take it you want this in payment for the shield generator?"

"If that's how you want to see it," I shrugged helplessly. "It's more of a favor though. Basically, there's a chemical compound unique to oceanic volcanoes that I can extract from volcanic ash."

"How much do you need?" she asked cautiously.

"As much as you can get me without becoming inconvenient. I mean, volcanic ash has a whole load of useful minerals anyway, but the stuff I really want is present in small quantities. I'm serious about the quantity. Ideally, I'd have literal tons of it to work with."

"I'll look into it. I admit geology isn't my area of expertise."

"Yeah, it's a bit of an odd request for sure. No worries if you can't get a lot, this is more of a want than a need."

"Is there any reason you can't use the stuff people put in fertilizer?"

"I don't know where they're sourcing the ash."

"Very well, I'll see what I can do. Would you like to stay for some food?"

I yawned, though she couldn't see it through my helmet. "Nah, I've been working 'til five in the morning lately. I need my shut-eye. Later, all," I waved as I strolled out of her club.

X

"Bryce, can I speak to you?" Mr. Maury stopped me as I was exiting homeroom. Some other students looked on curiously, but he waved them away with warning glances.

"Yes, sir?"

"Have you thought about what we talked about two weeks ago?"

"Err…" I tried to think of any one-on-one conversation we'd had. I came up blank. "What did we talk about again?"

He sighed and ran a hand through his thinning hair. "After school activities. I told you that Arcadia ends classes earlier than other high schools thanks to our vocational approach to education."

"Ah." I did recall that conversation now that he mentioned it. I'd complained about it to my friends. "Why me? Shouldn't everyone be getting this talk?"

"Out of the twenty-two kids in my homeroom, sixteen are already part of time-consuming clubs like theater or sports. Four help out with their family business and have appropriate parental notes, whatever that business may be. That leaves you and one other. Rest assured, I'll be having a chat with her as well," he said with a rebuking frown. "Right now, this is about you. Have you considered an extracurricular program?"

I had not. I'd thought that with my stellar grades, they wouldn't push the issue. 'There's nothing more annoying than someone who cares,' I thought sardonically. "No, Mr. Maury. I don't really have anything that catches my interest."

"No sports or music?"

"I play guitar on the side and exercise to stay in decent shape, but no. I'm not interested in group activities."

"Bryce, no man is an island," he began. "You're an excellent student: quiet, studious, and other teachers have nothing but good things to say about your grades."

"Then-"

"That doesn't mean you should cut yourself off from your peers. Did you know that you can end classes at lunch if you take up an appropriate extracurricular?"

I gave him a wry smile. "Are you trying to bribe a teenager with less school?"

"Is it working?"

"A little," I said honestly. "Is there a program that is fun, flexible, and preferably pays me money?"

"Bryce…"

"Okay, fine, I get it. How about just flexible? I really like setting my own hours, Mr. Maury."

He gave it some thought. "How about tutoring?"

"Are you trying to get me beat up? No one wants to admit they're getting tutored by a freshman, makes them feel stupid."

"Not other high schoolers," he sighed. "Lafayette Middle School has a joint tutoring program with us. Basically, parents there sign their kids up to be included in a list of students seeking tutoring. Arcadia students like yourself can pick a name and contact them. You need at least a 3.5 GPA and an A in the subject, but that's not an issue for you. You can work out your hours and even get paid."

"What does the school get out of this?"

"Good publicity, incoming freshmen who are better prepared for our curriculum, and a closer relationship with our sister school. We're not scalping your pay if that's what you're worried about. And, because tutors in this program are sponsored by the school, you can demand higher prices and will have an easier time getting clients."

"Hmm…" 'It'd give me an excuse to not be at home immediately after school. Mom and Sierra don't need to know just what days I'm tutoring after all.' I was halfway convinced but decided to push for more anyway. "Does this program allow me to cut classes short?"

"No, it does not. Your students will be in class themselves so there is no reason to. Nice try though," he said with a laugh. "Why? Not liking European History?"

"That and Spanish. I wouldn't mind losing them both so I could leave right after lunch on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays." I let out an exaggerated sigh before sticking my hand out. He probably wouldn't stop hounding me about picking something up and this was as good as any. "Fine, Mr. Maury. You got me."

He looked amused but shook the hand anyway. "Excellent. What subjects would you be interested in teaching?"

Before I was a physician's assistant, I used to teach organic chemistry to undergraduate college kids as part of a work study program in grad school. Somehow, I doubted "o-chem, maybe some lab work on the side," would be an acceptable answer. Instead, I shrugged. "Anything would be fine."

"Is there a subject you feel comfortable with?"

"Biology and math," I decided. "I'm warning you. My time is expensive."

"I'm sure you'll work something out with the parents. I'll have you signed up by the end of the day so drop by the teacher's lounge before you leave to pick up the student profiles. Now get to class, I believe you have algebra next."

X

Sure enough, my homeroom teacher presented me with a binder full of middle school students. It had their names, the subjects they'd like to be tutored in, the names of parents, their contact information, and their preferred hours. I was told to set something up with at least one student before the end of next week and that it'd contribute to my community service hours. I didn't think Arcadia had mandatory hours, but I'd been mistaken. That I'd be getting paid for my services was apparently not an issue.

"I got a job," I said over dinner.

"Don't tell me, the mall needs a tween to model dresses for them," joked Sierra.

"Sierra! Bryce is plenty manly."

I made a face. "Mom, no guy wants to hear his mother defend his masculinity. And no, I'm tutoring after school."

"Ah, Arcadia's extracurricular hours?" My sister took a bite of her asparagus. "I remember those. They weren't terrible."

"I don't even remember what you did."

"Art club," she said happily. "We basically spent some time at lunch, had an elective, and stayed an hour after class occasionally. Once a semester, we went to the Forsberg and held our own art show, talked to the curator, that sort of thing. It was super convenient."

"Well, I have the artistic talent of a dismembered monkey on meth so that's out. I thought about band but I didn't want to turn a hobby into something mandatory, you know? So, tutoring it is."

"How many hours will you be tutoring for, Bryce?" mom asked.

"I'm thinking most of the week, give myself something to do after school. And when I'm not doing that, I might hang out at the library or bookstore. Besides, this will net me some spending money."

"Nerd~"

"Shut up, Sierra."

"Children…" mom let out s longsuffering sigh, far too used to our bickering. "Bryce, if you need a bigger allowance-"

I held out a hand to stop her. "It's not that, mom. I don't even have anything I want to buy. I just want to know that I can make my own money."

"If that's what you want, honey."

"It is."

"So, do you already have a student?" Sierra asked.

"Nope, I'm supposed to find one by end of next week though. My homeroom teacher gave me a binder full of students from Lafayette."

"Good luck, bro. Try not to price-gouge too much."

"Yeah, sure."

That settled, I went upstairs to shower, do homework, then turn in for the night. I'd settle for a quick power nap until midnight then make for the lab. With Labyrinth's sizes squared away, I could start building the full helmet, a mix of Kevlar mesh and foam surrounded by hardened plastic. I had no idea how to do the maze patterns, again, not an artist, but I'd figure something out.

Author's Note

Internet cookie to someone who can tell me what Bryce wants with all that volcanic ash. There are a lot of things I'm fudging as I try to adapt technology and powers to a pseudo-scientific format, but this isn't one of them. Someone in One Piece canonically mentions that this chemical is launched into the air via volcanoes from the seafloor and it is a critical ingredient in the formation of something rather important to the setting.

I really did have a teacher like Mr. Maury. He was awesome, put up with my angsty, geeky ass all through high school. He was one of those teachers who helped solved problems in their students' lives long before the students themselves realized there were any problems. In this case, Bryce gets to use tutoring as an excuse to tinker during the day, letting him get some sleep, hopefully.

Nah, who am I kidding? That implies he has impulse control.