Flowers

The Protectorate had a general idea of where Blasto was, even if they didn't know exactly. They lied, of course, and told me that they had no idea where he was, but I read it in their minds.

It wasn't all that hard to find him, actually. Tinkers tended to have larger power needs than ordinary people, and while they also tended to create their own power to try to stay unnoticed, power tended to create heat.

All I had to do was create a simple infrared scanner out of an old flashlight, various pieces from an old television, and parts from an old microwave oven, assisted by my ability to reform glass.

That took me five minutes once I'd found the city dump and the items I needed.

A quick scan around the area Blasto was suspected to have his lab, and I quickly found him. As a biological tinker, his energy needs were even higher because of the need to keep his living subjects warm in incubators.

Sending my eyes inside, I checked for traps. No one entered a tinker's lab without some trepidation; even if you were immune to most things, that didn't mean you were immune to everything. Tinkers had the ability to be unpredictable.

He was in his lab smoking marijuana while he looked at a screen with information about his latest creation.

I'd never been inside a tinker's mind while he was tinkering, and it was a strange experience. It was almost as though he wasn't really himself; there were alien thought patterns taking over that seemed foreign to who he was.

Maybe once I had his power I'd be able to figure it out.

Blinking inside, I grabbed him from behind and I broke his arm causing him to scream.

I'd learned my lesson from Bakuda. I hit him in the head.

Normally this would be a really bad idea, but I healed him a moment after I knocked him unconscious.

I blinked into the sky over Boston.

"What are your plans?" I asked.

I needed to know what sort of villain I was dealing with. Did he need to die, or should I turn him over to the PRT?

Asking the question inevitably made him think of the answer.

He was a drug dealer, but prided himself in dealing custom created drugs that were presumably less addictive and destroying to the body. He disliked the establishment, and he had an on again off again girlfriend who also had powers.

He wanted to tinker, and was a crime lord because the other gangs kept interfering with his building.

He'd committed second degree murder, but the person he'd killed had been another villain, and the circumstances had been somewhat excusable.

I could work with him.

He was staring at me, and the color had left his face.

"You know who I am, then?"

"Harvest," he said. "You killed all the villains in Brockton Bay and started a plague there."

"The PRT started the plague," I said. "Lung is still alive, along with Uber and Leet, at least as far as I know."

I wiped the blood off his lip.

TINKER HAS BEEN UPGRADED!

BIOLOGICAL TINKER SPECIALTY HAS BEEN ADDED!

ALL TINKER SKILLS ARE AT A HIGH INTERPLANETARY LEVEL, WITH MID-INTERPLANETARY LEVEL SKILLS IN RELATED SPECIALTIES!

Information flooded my mind.

The more tinker skills I gained, the fewer things wouldn't be in at least a related specialty. Bakuda had been able to implant bombs into people, and Mannequin had known about ways of harvesting as part of his interstellar colonization specialties.

The information I'd given to them paled in comparison to the information I had now.

I knew exactly why I needed more than I had to heal my father. I could possibly perform a brain transplant into a cloned body; that would be easy enough. I was still concerned about his brain and the information held within. Without his memories, he wouldn't be my father, and even with most of them, I'd always regret not making him better.

I could have Clockblocker freeze his brain until I was ready, but I could do that with inventory.

More importantly, bringing my father back would just make it easier for people to kill him. I needed to give him powers; strong defensive powers that would keep him safe until I was able to rescue him.

I could think of a half dozen things to try with a clone body that would make it better. I still regretted not getting Bonesaw; she'd have enabled me to put cybernetic improvements in his body that would make him even better than what I was capable of now.

"Hey," I said. "Can you give superhuman powers to a cloned body before a brain transplant."

He stared at me.

"Maybe?"

His skills were still better than mine.

I inventoried him, then blinked us both back into his lab.

"I've got some things I'd like you to work on," I said. "I'll give you a million dollars and a lab on a remote world filled with T-zombies where you can build whatever you want."

"Why would I want to go to a world filled with T-zombies?" he asked.

"Because you can build self-replicating organisms?" I said. "The world was hit by a meteor ten years ago, and they've had a nuclear winter. There's likely only a few thousand people left, and we accidentally released the T-virus, which means there's a few zombies in the areas. You've had your shots, right?"

"Everybody in Boston has," he said. "The PRT is still paranoid that Bonesaw might have unleashed something worse, though."

He hesitated.

My offer had some appeal to him.

"What do you want me to do?"

"My father was murdered, but I put him into stasis five minutes after he died. There will be some brain damage, but more importantly I've got enemies that will try to kill him after I bring him back. I want to load him up with as many defensive abilities as I can while still keeping him looking human."

He looked intrigued.

"I'd also like to help the people on that planet. Do you think you could make a self-replicating bacterium that would eat the ash and debris in the air without eating the ground? Then maybe create some plants that will grow without a lot of sunlight."

He was warming up to the idea.

"I'll build you a complex," I said. "Anywhere on the planet that you want. I'll get you a better lab; I'm planning on beating up other tinkers, and I'll probably steal their labs if I choose to kill them."

"I understand your Dad, but why are you doing all of this?"

"Do you know what you get when you save a world?" I asked. "Everything. People will think you are a hero; they'll worship the ground you walk on."

"I'm no hero," he said.

"Not like the Protectorate. You'd be a real hero. You could have the entire continent of Australia, let's say, and if you wanted to become Nilbog, the rest of the world wouldn't care as long as you got them a little to eat. If you wanted to become president f the world, you could."

"A million dollars isn't worth much if you can't spend it."

"I'll return you here if that's what you want," I said. "But I'm betting that if you really start to build something great, you won't want to leave."

"I've got family, a girlfriend… sometimes, at least."

"Imagine how impressed they would be if they saw paradise, and they knew that you were the one who had created it."

The idea had taken root in his head. He could see building something great, and the freedom to create what he wanted without restrictions was appealing to him."

"I'll do it," he said.

"All right," I said. "Let's talk about limitations and possibilities."

The sound of doors being broken from outside started both of us.

Faster than Blasto could see, I began moving around inventorying his lab. I tried to keep as much as I could under the heading of lab equipment, but my power kept insisting on using different slots.

"It's the Protectorate," I said, as he stared, looking around. "They're here to kill you so I won't steal your powers, but it's too late."

I grinned.

I'd released some of the last of my glass, and I quickly formed it into the shape of Blasto with an expression of terror on his face.

"What's that?" he asked suspiciously.

"How long do you think they'll examine this, trying to decide if I gained some kind of power to turn people into glass? That'll make them shit themselves."

"Some of my experiments," he began.

"In stasis," I said. "I can reconnect everything quickly enough that there will only be minimal loss of function."

I grabbed him, and we plane shifted to the Cannibal world.

"There's nothing here," he said.

"It's a blank slate," I said. "One that you can form to your heart's desire. There are a few cannibals here, but they're all normal people, and they've been starved for so long that you'll be able to beat them easily."

He frowned, then nodded.

"I'll need a place to hold everything," he said. "And a power source before we pull my projects out of stasis."

I nodded.

I quickly outlined my plan to him, and a moment later we at a bookstore.

"Why are we here?" he asked.

"I've gotta read up on off grid living and construction," I said. "My tinker specialties tell me how to build a superior solar cell, but not how to build a house that doesn't leak."

I bought almost fifty books on off grid living and do it yourself home improvement. It set me back five hundred dollars. Blasto spent the whole time worrying that we would be reported on by someone with a cellphone, and the Protectorate would shoot him in the head.

As soon as I paid for my books and ate them, we were in Boston at the shipyard.

I'd have preferred to use Brockton Bay, but the shipping containers there were all thirty years old and rusted messes. I needed containers at least strong enough to keep armies of weak cannibals and the occasional t-zombie out of the lab.

"I'd like to buy some shipping containers," I said to the lady at the front desk."

I'd been here when I was younger with my father, when he'd tried to negotiate a deal.

She frowned.

My suit said I had money, but I was still really young looking. She glanced over at Blasto, and he shook his head and gestured toward me.

"Let me get you someone," she said.

Steve was a friendly and personable man, heavyset and with a strong Boston accent- strong enough that even though I was from the area I noticed it.

"I need some shipping containers," I said. "New, preferably. I'd like the high cube containers."

Blasto looked at me.

"They're a foot taller, almost ten feet, and that means you'll have more room for insulation and wiring."

We were going to use new containers because they wouldn't have been used to transport toxic materials. I had to specify containers that hadn't been treated with toxic chemicals to kill pests.

I was going to use containers because I wasn't strong enough to carry more than four tons, which would limit planewalking, and I was limited to eight tons in my inventory.

Not only were they dangerous to people living inside, but there weren't even any living insects on the Cannibal world.

We got 53-foot storage containers. They were 9'6 tall, 8'6 wide, and they weighed six tons each.

After inspecting them, I said, "I'd like all four."

"Finding somebody to transport them is going to be tough," Steve said.

It was true, but he was also getting kickbacks from a company that he recommended.

"Don't worry about it," I said. "I'll take care of transportation."

Twenty-four thousand dollars appeared in my hand, and he stared at it.

He counted it, and he gave me a receipt.

I inventoried the containers in my last remaining slot, and I plane shifted us back to the Cannibal world.

Picking him up, I said, "Pick a good spot."

Eventually we found a spot high on a mountain plateau. Presumably most of the natives wouldn't waste the calories trying to come up here.

The rock face was reasonably flat, but I used telekinesis to make it even flatter.

Then I dropped the storage buildings from inventory.

"They'll need a foundation," he said critically.

"I'll use railroad ties," I said. "I'd have more slots, but you had a lot of crap."

He shrugged.

"You should have set this up before you came and beat me up."

"Well, I didn't know whether you were an asshole or not," I said.

"You're building them in a square?" he said.

It'll provide a defensive perimeter," I said. "And you can still have windows on the inside for light."

I could probably build solar tubes too.

Insulation would be a problem; due to a lack of sunlight, everything was colder than it was back home.

Leaving him in the center of the square, I plane shifted to gather railroad ties. It took me only five minutes.

By inventorying the containers, I was able to place the railroad ties and then to replace them.

By pursing my lips, I was able to use my flame breath to weld the containers together, as well as cut out doorways to connect the interior.

Blasto spent the time figuring out where he would place everything.

"I'm still going to need power and water," he said.

"I'm going to need to unload some of your stuff," I said. "Which parts don't have to stay in stasis?"

After unloading some of the slots, I managed to go to a Home Depot back home, and I bought spray insulation.

"I know how to do this," Blasto said. "Get me power and water."

It would have taken weeks to do all this without powers.

With them, it was a lot simpler.

My power over glass, and my ability as a Trash Tinker made creating solar cells simple.

The initial impact of the asteroid that had destroyed humanity had left the planet completely dark for two years; enough time to destroy all the plants and later the animals that depended on those plants.

The ash in the air had begun to settle now, and there was maybe forty percent of the solar exposure that there had been.

Creating solar cells wasn't a problem for me; I could create glass with my fire breath from sand, and then I could change the glass into a superior solar cell that delivered fifty percent of the energy from the sunlight that it did receive.

I could create a massive array of solar cells on both sides of the mountain, and it only took a few hours. I connected it up just as the sun set, and Blasto stared up at the mountainside.

"It'll provide all the power I need and then some," he said. "I've got emergency generators that run on compost for emergencies, but I will absolutely need water.

He wasn't going to bother finishing out the inside. He really didn't care what it looked like, and he was eager to get back to work.

The heat from his projects was going to keep him warm, and I'd managed to create an inverter from spare parts.

I'd had to buy the batteries; I could make them on my own, but it was faster to do it that way.

I had read books on plumbing, and so buying a large plastic cistern had been easy enough. Getting fresh water to fill it had taken longer.

I was up working on the plumbing throughout the night.

Blasto already had a composting toilet. Nothing went unused in his lab.

Given his proclivities for using marijuana, I made sure to get a refrigerator filled with pizza and beer.

By the end of three days, I'd created a bare bones setup that he deemed somewhat acceptable. It wasn't pretty; if I'd been building it for myself I'd have put in interior walls and maybe have hung a picture.

The end result was a pretty crowded lab. The pieces had been designed to be easily transported, in case his lair had been found.

I then had him spend a couple of days modifying the T-virus vaccine to be self-replicating. It would feed off the ash in the air and it would be highly infectious. It wouldn't save the people who had already been infected, but it would keep it from happening to anyone else.

"If you can make some fast-growing crops that don't need a lot of sunlight, I think people would appreciate it."

"I'll do it," he said. "It may take a while to get to your dad, though. This place isn't big enough for what I need."

"Let me know, and we'll expand when we get enough time. I'm going to acquire more tinkers, and maybe we'll be able to figure things out."

He took a deep puff of the joint in his hand.

I'd put the whole lab on the edge of the cliff, and I'd opened a window so he'd have a view of the world down below.

It was a dismal view, and I was hoping that might encourage him to work on making it better.

The people of this world deserved better than they'd gotten, and maybe this would help them resume their lives again.

I'd eventually try to gather the people together and try to create a community. I'd try to focus on the people who hadn't become cannibals, but given the way of the world, I likely wouldn't be able to form a community with just those people.

It'd be pretty awkward knowing that your neighbor would have once looked at you like long pork, but I'd try to keep the worst elements out.

I could give them power, at least.

I'd spent a week doing all of this, but hopefully it wouldn't have been time wasted. If we could recreate the biosphere, then maybe I could find a safe place for my father.

Maybe I needed to find the ability to grow plants or something. The place would do with a few flowers.