Ch. 26: Touch With The Unknown

A week passed. I was on the cusp of giving up. No healing powers worked on psychological problems, as far as I knew, or EDR claimed to.

Unless... Maybe I could make it a physical problem. Poke her brain with a scalpel. Heal the injury. Maybe it'd work like turning a computer off and on. No, that was stupid. Too risky, an unbaked thought from a woman who was slowly losing touch with reality... there were 28 other test subjects, though. If I churned through enough of them, I could potentially find the right place to poke.

I dwelled on the logistics for a solid ten minutes before I realized what I was considering.

I was genuinely considering experimenting on innocent people, so I could save one. I was considering killing them.

So. That's how far I had slid.

I reach into the folds of my ridiculous costume, and withdraw my gun with a stable hand, standing at Emily's bedside as I hold it at my side, tapping the loaded pistol to my hip. All of this, all of my care, and I'm still ending up a villain.

It's decided. This is the turning point. Right now, I found out who I really am.

I ask with a shivering voice, "Well, universe? You gonna give me a cure for her, or is this it? Either Emily lives, or Vivian dies."

I hear nothing, just the ambient hum of the machines. But then, a soft sound that cuts through my delirium. One of the many monitors faintly beeping. I turn around, my pounding heart demanding a miracle, my eyes reaching out to grasp it.

It has a low battery. Someone must have accidentally unplugged it.

A familiar feeling starts to brew within me as I stare into the blinking red light that indicates needing a charge.

A feeling like a lightning strike.

A touch with the unknown.

All the requirements. Genetics, personality, trauma and stress, need, and I was most certainly off my game.

My head hurts. Badly. I drop the gun, and stumble to look at my reflection in the glass of an unused screen.

subarachnoid brain hemorrhage dispower, copper wire + Vivian Amsel blood + Emily Booker hair

The room is spinning. I don't have much time. An aneurysm like this is fatal fast. Maybe two minutes before the brain bleed kills me.

I pluck one of Emily's beautiful hairs, and stumble off to my lab, slurring something unintelligible to Ishfaq and Vera on my way.

The headache worsens. It's easily the worst pain I've ever felt. Easily.

I pull off my mask and helmet, puke on the floor, and continue my search for copper wire.

Copper starts with a letter. Probably one near the front of the alphabet, but my thoughts are jumbled. Can't remember how to spell. It's atomic symbol is Cu, though. C. That's part of the first three.

I slip in my own puke, as both Ishfaq and Vera and Michiko come to assist me. My suit is heavy. Luckily, Michiko is strong, and gets me into a sitting position. Small miracle I held on to Emily's hair.

There's the copper wire, nearby. Maybe only a few miles. I point to it, and Ishfaq gets it for me immediately. I shakily take out an empty vial from my coat, and drop the hair in, followed by a snippet of wire that Ishfaq hands me.

Need blood now... vision fading. I can't get my own blood, can I? Worse, a nosebleed starts, and refuses to let up. I accidentally let a few drops of it spill into the tube. Somehow, it still works, and turns a brilliant violet color. I dump it into my own mouth, and swallow.

And then, I'm awake.

I'm back to normal.

What the fuck just happened?

I get to my feet, and grimace at the scene. "Michiko, could you get the cleaning bot? I'm gonna go decontaminate."

I take slow steps. My headache is mostly gone, whatever caused it. It was a blur.

I decontaminate in the chamber leading to my home, letting the gasses through me, and sigh. I shuffle to my personal lab and splash a little water on my face. I look in the mirror without the intent to diagnose. I look absolutely terrible. Sunken eyes, greasy skin.

I let the list of illnesses flow, and I cure them one by one, annoyed I contracted so many from daring to take off my helmet in my own hospital.

One thing catches my attention, though.

My brain aneurysm. The cure said it was a dispower.

I... don't know what that means. I have to find out, though.

-

catastrophic psychological damage, non-urgent, complex, best outcome plausible, dividing along 3 paths

generalized neuropsychiatric damage A, 9mm bullet + coffee beans + canned tuna

generalized neuropsychiatric damage B, 9mm bullet + kale + walnuts + strawberries

generalized neuropsychiatric damage C, 9mm bullet + dark chocolate

I run my hand down my visor, unsure of what to think, the Beaker mask, coat, and cape tossed into a corner of the room for now.

"Uhh... Catalyst, a quick supply run?"

He pops in with incredible speed, like he knew I was about to call him. "Whatcha need?"

I take a deep breath, too scared to get my hopes up. "Well... a lot of brain food, apparently."

I assemble each vial with increasingly shaky hands, dropping in the groceries along with bullets from my gun. This.. isn't normal. The ingredients are dissolving so much slower than usual. I feel more in tune with the process, too. They make more logical sense, as well, all being foods associated with brain health. The bullet requirement is almost certainly an acknowledgement of me threatening to go postal from some kind of intelligence.

I believe I'm not alone in my brain. Maybe I wasn't from the start. Whether it's my subconscious, a split personality, or some kind of brain parasite, I'm not really worried about it right now.

I wipe Emily's shoulder with an alcohol swab, the sweat on my fingers clammy against the gloves, and inject each dose. From there, all I can do is watch.

A reaction takes no time. In less than five seconds, she coughs, and rubs her eyes. "What the hell..? How did I get back here? Vivian, did-"

I interrupt her very reasonable line of questioning with a very embarrassing amount of tight hugging and blubbering and declarations of love.

She catches on quickly that something must have happened, and is more than willing to return my excessive displays of affection.

I try to pick her up, fail miserably, and then am picked up by her. She carries me back home without a sweat, too. She didn't even seem disoriented, beyond the mild bemusement about how she arrived here. Once we're through the decontamination chamber, I throw off my suit, finally able to wipe my tears. Being in my underwear is the least of my worries right now.

Emily notices the small puddle of sweat lingering in my boots, and I'm able to force a smile. "I... haven't been home, lately."

"Viv, how long was I out for?"

"A week, since the time they found you."

"Jesus. Look at you, though, you're a wreck. What happened to you?"

I feel more tears enter my eyes. "Well... your prognosis was grim. You weren't expected to wake up again."

"Oh..."

"But you're okay now. Thank God, you're okay."

"Rat Sink?"

"Calhoun is out of the picture, but I'm sure the stragglers will find a new idiot to rally behind."

She nods, slowly taking my half-naked body to the shower. "Let's get you cleaned up. You're a mess. Let's take a few days off from Beaker, okay?"

I snort-laugh, and push back my greasy hair. Even now, she's still worried about her girlfriend succumbing to her worst impulses. "I... Emily. I'm done with that."

"You need days off, even-"

"With Beaker, I mean."

"...huh?"

"I'm sure Barkbite can pull some strings if I retired. Maybe even keep me out of prison."

"You're in shock, you probably haven't eaten or slept, so-"

"Emily." I take her hand in my pruned, pale fingers. "I was Beaker because... of a lot of things. But when you weren't waking up, I had a lot of time to reflect. To think. And I realized that if we didn't get extremely lucky recently, I'd have Beaker, but I wouldn't have you. And I want you a hell of a lot more than Beaker."

I see her eyes are starting to well up, too, and decide it's probably better for both of us to hide our mutual crying while we shower.

It's big enough for two, after all.

-

I'm not quite sure how to break this to my team, or how they'll react. I wring my hands in the living room, watching as four sets of eyes look back at me. I'm nervous without my suit, like a crab without a shell.

Still, it has to be done. For my sake, for Emily's sake, for everyone's sake.

"I... am quitting Beaker."

Michiko, Ishfaq, and Vera all exchange looks.

"From here on, you have two options, and no hard feelings either way. First, a hundred thousand dollars in severance, completely cleaned and untraceable. Go find somewhere better than Dudek, or just take the money and work somewhere else. Second, you come with me wherever I go next. You all are as important to the Apothecary as I am, and it would have collapsed altogether by now if even a single one of you wasn't involved. I'm grateful for that, and frankly, I'm really honored that great people like you decided I was worth getting entangled with."

There's a very long pause. Michiko languidly signs something, which I didn't quite catch, but Ishfaq did. He grimaces, and looks up at me from the couch. "We're all criminals, you know. We might not have an option to do anything but work for you, at this point."

"You three aren't known by EViRT. None of us are. You could disappear back into the normal world with a nice nest egg, and never step foot in this shit again."

Michiko laughs again, a painfully honest laugh. She signs something slow enough that I can read it this time: "That is not what we meant. We mean that after working with you, where else would we want to go?"

To my left is Back of House, hiding her identity with a ski mask and tightly holding my hand.

Past her, Catalyst.

To my right, Solvent.

And then, at the end, Medulla. She bounces anxiously in her chair.

All three decided to stay. It hurts to know that they trust me enough to do something this radical, like a spear that demands my responsibility.

In front of all of us, across a large square table, is the police chief I remember from my community service, someone in a business suit, a half-asleep Polyarmory, Defrag, Barkbite, and Cavalcade. Ed R is standing alone in the corner as well, lurking like a bored parent watching his kids at the park.

I take a calming breath, and look out of the window. Even through my beaked mask, it's truly lovely, the late afternoon sun spraying barely shifting beams across us all.

"Greetings, compatriots," I say.

The police chief clears his throat. "Let's get this over with." He points to himself. "Chief Robert Upupa."

The woman in the business suit straightens her tie, her cream-colored skin covered with a tan that's only betrayed as fake due to the season. "Maxine. Financials."

The rest of us introduce ourselves in similar fashion, until it finally ends on Michiko holding a tablet with her name on it.

The light from the window further catches Defrag's outfit, faintly splattering it across the table like a white and gold disco ball. He looks pissed, and I don't blame him. He'd extended this offer to me before, and not only did I decline, I privately humiliated him. "Let's get this going. I have about twenty minutes before I'm leaving."

I look through my beaked mask, and nod. "Very well. First and foremost, though none of us shall admit to any alleged actionable offenses, we require full amnesty."

"It's never partial amnesty with you people is it?" Defrag sneers, looking at the rogue's gallery in front of him. "Nope, just fully getting away with all your bullshit once you have enough money, or you get into trouble. Which is it?"

I feel my jaw tighten. He's right, of course, but it still stings. "I suppose the latter fits best."

"Right, right. Because the ski mask lady got scooped up by Rat Sink, and had a mysterious, miraculous recovery."

"Indeed, I am quite the physician."

"Uh-huh."

Cavalcade clears her throat after a long sip from some kind of protein shake. "You saw the pictures, right, sir?"

"Yeah," Defrag says. "I saw. I'm not debating on her ability."

The ticking of a clock pads out the room, until I breach the near-silence a moment later. "I have quite a robust offer for you fine folk."

"Yeah?"

"Indeed. In exchange for allowing the heinous deeds of my Apothecary to go unpunished, I shall bless the remaining twenty-eight catatonia-stricken civilians."

He checks his watch. "Yeah, total hero move, holding twenty-eight peoples' life hostage in exchange for a pardon."

"You are quite arrogant for one whom had no part in the Sinking of those Rats."

"Look, asshole, I-"

"Let's calm down," Upupa interrupts, his eyes locking onto me. "She was willing to play along before, has shown she can put bullshit aside to help in a crisis, and has saved countless lives, including Cavalcade here. Why now, though?"

I grimace, and exchange a look with Emily. Like we planned, she nods once.

I click off my mask, and uncloud my visor. "I'm... gonna put bullshit aside. If you don't mind, of course."

Defrag raises an eyebrow.

"A few of the people here already know me, but I'm going to get this out of the way now. My name is Doctor Vivian Amsel. I used to work at Dudek Hospital, but changed career paths after making a few bad decisions. I ended up at the Apothecary because I wanted to heal people, and stayed because... I had my reasons. Then, my associate here was kidnapped and nearly left in a permanent catatonia, and... it made me reconsider some things."

He leans in a little more, his fingers interlocked into a single solid fist. "Only matters when it affects you, huh?"

I glance at Emily through my visor, and offer a weak smile before turning my head back. "You're right. It was self-centered of me to only realize then that the terrorists I was actively risking my life to fight against were bad people. It was arrogant of me to treat people for free, or next to free. Totally evil of me to take in hospital overflow during the bombings."

"You had no idea what you were doing, huh?"

I grimace. "What?"

"You kept healing every injury those gang members got, and they'd get right back on the street and go back to their shit. Crime rate went up ten percent after you started working."

"Hold on," Upupa interrupts. "That's not accurate. It's just a correlation due to all the crux that's started flowing through here; has nothing to do with this woman here."

"So you say."

I wait out another pause, hoping for Upupa to continue my defense. He does not.

"I have an alternative," I say. "Ed, I'd like to ask you something. You saw Jay had a dispower that one time, right?"

He holds up a hand. "Not here. After."

I nod. Damn, I was hoping he'd give me a good word. "Either way. Defrag, I can't heal people from prison. I require very specific conditions to work in."

"Cushy conditions, you mean. And would you take off that stupid fucking spacesuit? Not like there's poison in the air."

"Actually, there is. My dispower is that I don't have an immune system, so... I gotta wear this."

"Explains why you got a good power, at least."

"Yeah. Look, I know I don't have much ground to bargain from, beyond the fact I'm an asset to you. If you let me leave the building unharmed or let me join EViRT, I can get to healing those twenty-eight. If not, they're probably stuck like that forever, and their blood is on your hands."

Defrag rolls his eyes. "And what do you need from us?"

"Nothing besides your signature and blessing."

His eyes flick to Cavalcade, then to Upupa.

His frown grows. Mine fades when he answers.

I stay after we finish hammering out the details, and all of the EViRT personnel leave me, my team, and Ed alone.

He carries himself differently today. Less serious. Less commanding. The last few weeks must have been hellish for him, but now, it's like we interrupted his vacation. Ed looks between us all. "Can the rest of you drop the disguises? I'm not having this conversation at a Halloween party."

I give the nod, and my team does so without question.

"And you trust these people, Amsel?"

"I do. More than I trust myself, even."

"Alright... wanna explain why both you and your girlfriend have two powers, now?"

I run my hand up and down my arm, as Emily looks at me with wide eyes and a twisted grimace. Two powers? Emily having a second wasn't something I anticipated, and I assumed mine was simply upgraded. "Look," I say, "I don't know this any better than you all, but I had a second empowering a couple days ago. I... I don't know what it is, exactly, but after gaining it, I could finally heal Emily. My power refused to work on her, before."

"Uh-huh... So it's like the Jay situation. What's her second dispower?"

Like the Jay situation? So this has happened before... It means I can give people powers, somehow. But why reveal this to me now? "She doesn't have one. At least, not one that's more important than having an ingrown hair on her leg. I checked."

"And yours?"

I take a deep breath. "I... well, the dispower is that my brain starts having severe aneurysms. It isn't a big deal, as long as I can access the ingredients I need for an elixir."

"Which are?"

"Uhh... well, copper wire, my own blood, and... one of Emily's hairs."

Emily recoils a bit. "That's why you stole my hairbrush?"

Ed holds up a hand. Even in his weary state, he's still in control. "Has your power ever asked you for things like that?"

"The first two, yes. The last one, no. It doesn't ask me for specific people's stuff unless the potion affects them directly."

"I see... Well, I'm not too worried about all this. Obviously, two powers isn't something that happens much, and I'm a little worried what it entails. Let me know if you figure anything out. Also, tell the scrawny kid to just ask her already. The constant sheepish glances are doing numbers on my psyche."

Ishfaq's eyes dart around. "Huh?"

"Never mind. I gotta go deal with yet more dumb shit. Have fun out there."

Zola wasn't pleased. That was to be expected.

In fact, no one at the meeting was, even the people I'd told ahead of time. Also expected. Even Porter seemed a little pissed by the revelation, since they'd no doubt been able to sneak in a few of their chuds here and there, especially lately.

"Where the hell is Nerva, anyway?" Porter asks, leering at the empty seat next to him.

"Dead," comes Overseer's reply.

"The fuck?! What happened?"

"Rat Sink. Obviously."

Porter leans back in his seat. "Well... shit. I'll have to plan the service. He wouldn't want non-Aryans there, so... Zola! You-"

"Fuck you."

"Enough," Gil states, looking around the room. "Let's get back on track. Kingfisher?"

"You owe us a debt, Beaker," Kingfisher notes. "One you can't just walk away from. It's still in the twenty million dollar range."

"I am aware, and I assure you that price will be paid post-haste. I am not abandoning my beloved Apothecary, merely announcing my intention to alter our arrangement when my score has settled. No, Beaker shall move on from this den of delinquency."

Zola folds his arms, and leans back. "Why?"

"It is simple. I have nary a need for such stressors, and my previous rationale has altered. I thank you all for your grace and patience with my good self over these months, and for your future-"

"No," Ji-Won states. "I don't think we can let you do that. You understand, don't you?"

Barkbite leans in, and clasps my shoulder. Ji-Won averts her eyes.

"Fret not, my malefactor friends, my beak shall not be sequestered away upon some ivory tower. Nay, it shall remain within everyone's grasp."

"If you're still going to be a doctor," Kingfisher asks, tenting his fingers, "why bother with moving locations? You're needed here, are you going to abandon Dudek for whatever the hell you worked out with that dipshit next to you?"

"Oh ho ho!" I say, taking a long breath. I can do this. I can do this. "You all must misunderstand my methods. For you see, I shall remain in place, but..." With a tight grip, I hold the beak of my mask. This is for the best. I peel it off, and have my visor cleared of the one-way darkness. "...maybe I can drop the character, right?"

A deathly silence sits in the meeting room. I've never seen it this silent before. I maintain my calm, a cooling potion having been used before I got here. I don't need to be seen sweating.

"...holy shit, she's actually a chick?!" Carson shouts. "What the fuck!"

The room turns into a cacophony immediately, everyone shouting questions at me or threats at others.

I bitterly laugh, and turn off the voice modulator, but crank the volume high. "Okay!"

The silence slowly returns, all eyes back on me.

I lower the volume again, and clear my throat. "Let's just get this out of the way. My name is Doctor Vivian Amsel. I'm not going anywhere, but I'd like to make it clear to you all who I am. There are three conditions, though, okay?"

Gil, despite heading the meeting, had been relatively quiet until now. "Go on."

"First, staying behind a mask was meant to keep me and my loved ones safe, but it recently backfired. Badly. I think it would be safer, going forward, if you all knew who I was. I know you guys. You all have eyes everywhere, and you all know who I am, now. I've established myself, and I'll let my actions speak for me. If something like that were to happen again, I'm sure none of your people would want me gone, right? Just disseminate that the girl in the environmental suit and her team are under protection, and we're golden."

Quiet murmuring, but it doesn't sound like a negative response.

"Second, I'm going to have EViRT work as security at the Apothecary, instead of either the rotating members from you all or my own private mercenaries. Don't worry, even if I'm technically EViRT, the Apothecary will still be sacrosanct. For Porter's benefit, that means off-limits."

I let him call me a few choice slurs. It hardly matters to me. He's not going to do anything.

"Third, and importantly, I'm going to be... scaling things up, so to speak. I anticipate a pretty rapid increase in traffic, so I'm going to be hiring more doctors, nurses, and the like. I'll still be there, of course, but I'll stop attending to every broken finger and minor concussion."

Porter lets out a low whistle, and shakes his head. "This is fucking stupid."

"I-" Kingfisher winces, and clears his throat. "Sorry. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I agree with Porter."

"...look, I'll be honest, I've been keeping secrets. That ends today, to show that I'm officially divesting myself of the underworld politics. For example, Kingfisher, you have cancer."

He blinks. "...what?"

"Lymphoma. It's been there since we met. It's not too difficult a cure, but you'll want it taken care of sooner rather than later, since it's been steadily progressing. I was playing that close to the chest. But now, after the Rat Sink thing, I know where you stand. I know where everyone in this room stands, so... yeah. There's more, too, but I can't cure those secrets. I'll send encrypted emails so Kingfisher doesn't listen in."

He's silent, eyes somewhere between sheepish and murderous.

Shu takes the opportunity. "I don't get it. What's the actual, practical difference on our end?"

I shrug. "There really isn't any, besides the fact I'll stop coming to these meetings unless I'm invited. I'm still gonna sit this stuff out, and EViRT isn't going to risk losing me by messing with any of you on the Apothecary grounds. I cleared that with EDR, too."

Kingfisher stands up, shrugging Gil's hand off his shoulder, fists balled. "I had cancer this entire time, and you didn't say anything? After everything I've done for you?"

"Yes. That's correct."

"...you're really, really fucking lucky that I'm a practically-minded person."

I only nod in response.

Emily throws a tennis ball against the wall, and I catch it. The Apothecary is currently undergoing a few renovations to make it less 'creepy quack's lab' and more 'actual medical establishment.'

I throw the ball back, and she in turn catches it. "So... my hair?"

"Yeah," I say, as we continue the not-quite-a-game. "Don't think that means you're trapped with me, though. If we split up for whatever reason, then we can work something out. Maybe sell it by the strand."

She chuckles. "Nah. I just think it's funny that you have to eat my hair every..."

"Day, unfortunately."

"Shit."

"Yeah. Unlike most people, if I forget my medication, I'll literally die. Not looking forward to that, honestly. Gonna make life even harder for me."

"We'll figure something out."

"We always do."