Ch. 11: House Calls

Solvent and I wait in silence just outside the entry to the Apothecary, as Gil drives over the through the somewhat overgrown parking lot to pick us up. This time, he's the one driving, with Kingfisher lounging in the back seat. I climb in next to him, letting Solvent take the front.

"Good morrow, colleagues." I say, tipping my hat.

Kingfisher's stoic demeanor weakens for a split-second. "Gonna do this for the whole drive? And you brought a friend?"

"Indeed, 'tis my new guardian, Solvent."

If Kingfisher has a problem, he doesn't express it. Gil pulls away from the Apothecary, staying silent as Kingfisher speaks. "Let's get to business. Very boring round table. Us, Kamakiri, the Nightjars, Bleeding Heart, the Untainted, Supragenus, someone else who I forgot, and you."

Supragenus makes me nauseous to hear. The scummiest of the skinhead groups, in my opinion, run by Carson Porter. He got it in his head that empowered people were yet another strata in the racial hierarchy. The fact that all the capes who joined were complete morons didn't seem to matter.

"May I ask the purpose?"

He shuts down the conversation with a hard glance.

"So be it, then."

The city isn't really ugly, I think, as I look out the window. We're nearing the center of town, with all its modern buildings and clean streets, like a timelapse into the future . From the air, it must look like concentric circles of progressively more neglect-stained buildings. It has a certain charm, honestly, even the weathered outskirts have character.

What surprises me is that we're stopping so close to the middle of the ring. Even though this is Bleeding Heart territory, to the best of my knowledge, the real ones in control are the sanctioned heroes. There's a handful in the city, but it takes a certain blend of character traits all heroes have in the end: what Emily calls the three downs. You need to have a way to not be shot down, have a way to take other people down, and not have any attachments to track down. Not many fit those criteria.

Gil drives into a parking garage, navigating to a nearly abandoned basement level. Kingfisher leaves first, with the three of us following behind. Solvent stands impressively close to me without bumping into me. Gil, meanwhile, seems to stay five feet behind Kingfisher at all times. Even when Kingfisher takes a step back after pressing an elevator button, Gil follows suit to maintain the distance. It isn't until the elevator arrives that Gil once again stands next to Kingfisher, though I suspect it's to prevent Solvent and I being between him and his boss.

The elevator cables strain as we descend, followed by the door opening up with a tired whine. Much like my own clinic, a security team from mixed affiliation waits for us.

"Weapons?" one asks, getting a slight laugh from Gil as they wave us through.

There's a singular room here, the dust betraying that it's purpose is for infrequent meetings. A ring of bare lightbulbs hang above a circular table, illuminating both it and a distinctly ugly carpet beneath. The tension is only broken by Gil sneezing from behind me.

The people currently at the table, sitting in unadorned office chairs, all turn to face us as we enter. I recognize Overseer and Shu's distinct armored forms, but none of the others.

One of the people is a very toned shirtless man in cargo shorts, accompanied by an equally muscular and shirtless man who doesn't sit. Both have the same tattoo over their hearts, a singular red droplet. To the side of him are an older, balding man in a dress shirt who gives off the energy of a Roman emperor mixed with a crappy middle manager. Sitting next to him is a man with two full sleeves of tattoos, very similar to ones I saw at the old cannery a few weeks ago.

I, not wanting to be directed and risk looking like Kingfisher's lapdog, take my own seat next to Shu. She very subtly nods, thankfully, since it means I'm where I'm supposed to be. Solvent stands behind me, arms folded, looking less threatening than she actually is.

The next to arrive is a corporate looking Asian woman, accompanied by a much more militant woman openly carrying an assault rifle. The one with the rifle's attention seems to linger on me for a moment longer than everyone else.

There is total silence as the last person arrives: Barkbite, a sanctioned hero. One I've met before, too. Since no one else reacts, neither do I, as he sits down next to me. He's wearing his usual green and white costume: little more than a hoodie with furry accents, and the hood that extends to his nose, though naturally with two eyeholes cut out.

The moment he sits down, Shu stands up to speak. Notably, her helmet remains on, as she speaks with a bizarrely professional tone compared to our meeting. "Meeting has been called, all parties accounted for. I am Shu of the Nightjars. Clockwise from self are Kingfisher of Kudzu, Gil of Kudzu, Champion of Bleeding Heart, Zola of Bleeding Heart..."

Interesting. Zola is the one standing, his friend Champion is the one sitting.

"...Nerva of the Untainted, Carson Porter of Supragenus..."

That bastard Porter is here in person? At least now I know what he looks like, though I probably could have guessed based on stereotypes alone.

"...Ji-Won of Kamakiri, unnamed bodyguard of Kamakiri, Barkbite of Dudek's sanctioned heroes, Solvent of the Apothecary is the one standing, Beaker of the Apothecary is the one sitting, and finally Overseer of the Nightjars."

I can't tell if everyone is looking at me, or at the hero next to me. Either way, I can command their attention, if I need to.

Shu takes a brief pause. "First docket item of six, a brief introduction by Beaker of the Apothecary." She tilts her helmet towards me. I've introduced myself at least fifty times the last few weeks, one more won't hurt.

I stand from my chair, taking a dramatic bow as I rise. "Good tidings, all. 'Tis I, the one called Beaker, the physician and chemist. Recently, my Apothecary has flung open its doors, accepting patients from all affiliations, barring specific condemnable groups. Many here have spread their coin purses wide on my account, for which I owe debts of both gratitude and financial reimbursement. Though I possess no special knowledge of the future, I foresee grand things."

I take my seat again, watching everyone out of my peripheral vision. I can tell immediately that everyone hates my persona, except maybe Gil.

Shu, maintaining her fake professionalism, asks, "Are there any comments? Starting clockwise..."

There's exactly 6 hands raised.

Kingfisher goes first. "She's legit, seen it myself, and so have the Nightjars. Don't believe me? Try it."

Zola, the brawny man standing, matches his commanding posture with a powerful voice. "I've heard enough impossible things from credible people. I don't envy whatever dispower you were cursed with if, assuming this isn't an elaborate joke. I suspect it to be your obvious insanity."

Ji-Won gets up, looking at something on a tablet as she talks. "Unfortunately, Beaker was at a recent skirmish between us and Kudzu, operating on their side. Beaker is clearly Kudzu's puppet."

Nerva stands slowly, and orates like a statesman. "Just weeks ago, this charlatan was assaulting us as a vigilante, and now forbids us from being treated? What a pathetic example of the lower caste."

Porter doesn't even bother to stand. "Fuck you, freak." He tacks on a few perfunctory slurs to sell the point. Truly, the master race at work.

Barkbite is last. "If she's actually a healer, then she's fine. But I'm going to need to see it."

That was unexpected. I'm glad Barkbite doesn't hold a grudge.

Shu once again speaks. "Now, Beaker is allowed to defend her seat."

I look around the table. It's been a goldmine of information, as I've been collecting diagnoses since I sat down.

Champion has a sprained wrist and a mild speech impediment dispower, Zola has seasonal allergies, Ji-Won has some kind of agnosia dispower and an iron deficiency, Nerva has IBS, Porter has not only a pretty heavy dispower of constantly tensed muscles that need to be intentionally relaxed, but asthma as well.

Most importantly, now, is Barkbite.

sensitive to pain dispower,

Skip. Sucks, but I don't need to reveal I can treat dispowers to him.

acid reflux, zinc + any fruit + water + sugar

"Sir Barkbite, my fellow, 'tis an honor to parley with you under finer circumstance. You ail from acid reflux, do you not?"

He nods, sharing a glance with someone across the table.

"I shall cure it, as proof of my command over the alchemical arts. Allow me patience with this display, everyone. It is perfectly harmless, I assure you."

I take a potion from my coat and drop it to the ground, creating a huge plume of smoke that engulfs the room. While I'm obscured, I mix a penny, a raisin, and a pinch of sugar from my bag into a vial of water. By the time the smoke clears, I stand with one hand raised in surrender, the other holding a syringe. Surprisingly, only Ji-Won's guard and Porter had trained a gun on me.

Barkbite grunts. "He's just mocking me. Used the same trick to escape once."

"Your forgiveness is greatly appreciated, Sir Barkbite. Now..." I snatch his wrist before his better judgement takes over, and carefully swab his exposed wrist with an alcohol wipe before injecting the potion into him.

At first, he looks pissed. Then confused. He starts pressing on his neck, and dry swallowing a few times. "I'll be damned..."

"Bullshit!" Porter shouts, slamming his fist on the table while his other hand fondles his handgun's trigger. Seems I shattered the decorum.

May as well double down. "Porter, for a proponent of eugenics, surely asthma disqualifies your lineage." I say, interlocking my fingers and resting them on the mahogany table as I sit back down.

He tries to form words, moving his finger from the trigger. "And you can cure that, huh?"

"Indeed I can. However, I will not. My tonics are restricted from mass murder-minded malefactors."

He holsters the gun, slowly sitting back down.

"Does another seek confirmation of my curious power? Nay? Then I yield." I sit back down, keeping Porter in my peripheral.

Shu clears her throat. "Despite Beaker's disruption, and assuming it was a one-time event, we can begin our vote. The Nightjars vote in favor."

"Kudzu in favor." Kingfisher says.

Zola tries to seem disinterested, but no amount of machismo or bravado can hide how closely his eyes are appraising me. "I need no cure, but I want to know what you can diagnose me with."

"Truthfully, you are the epitome of wellness. The most pressing matter I sense with you is mild seasonal allergies, followed by..."

I let it cycle past the allergies to the second one.

scar on left heel, water-

"...err, a scar marks your left heel. Remarkably hale."

He smirks. "Bleeding Heart in favor."

Nerva glares at me, but doesn't start with insults. He must know that I can reveal something that would be embarrassing to his carefully constructed persona. "Obviously, the Untainted and Supragenus's shared vote is no."

Ji-Won gives a painfully fake smile. "I have been feeling a bit under the weather lately. Diagnose me. If you're going to stay neutral so long as you have a clinic, that's doubly to my benefit."

"A notable iron deficiency, beyond that, generally in good physical health." I note.

"Kamakiri in favor," she says, eyes quickly moving from my mask.

Barkbite leans back a bit in his chair. "Obviously, the sanctioned heroes vote yes."

Once again, Shu speaks. "With a supermajority, the Apothecary is granted a seat to use at their discretion. I will note that if Beaker does anything stupid in here a second time, Overseer will break his neck."

Overseer nods. Now that I think about it, I never tried diagnosing him before. I focus on him for a moment.

dead, newsprint from 2046 + shard of glass from the 259th glass bottle produced in Lithuania + blood from a human virgin birth-

I scrub the line of thought, and try again.

dead, newsprint from 20-

That's new. Maybe something to do with the armor? No, I can read Shu. Probably a power that disrupts other powers somehow.

"Line item two..." Shu flips through a notebook. "Apothecary, you have an outstanding debt of 48 million. Minimum payment due by next month is 480,000."

"Pish. I shall bequeath two million today."

"Alright. Item 3..."

The rest of the meeting is boring disputes on territory, half-hearted accusations, and general whining. If Kingfisher wasn't our ride, I'd have excused myself after five minutes. Eventually, once the meeting is adjourned, most people stay around to mingle after the fact.

One of the ones remaining is Barkbite, who moves in front of me as I wait for Kingfisher. Solvent starts interspersing herself between us, until I wave her back.

"Beaker," he says, eyes hollow. He clearly hasn't been sleeping.

"Salutations, sanctioned hero."

"Right... You said you'd help anyone, right?"

"Indeed I did, Sir Barkbite, barring my personal grudges against racial supremacists."

"So that would mean heroes?"

"On condition they cause no disruptions within or near the Apothecary, of course. 'Tis a house of healing, not a den of discord." I adjust my hat slightly back.

He raises his hand to his mouth, running his hand horizontally across his beard. "Do you do house calls?"

I look out the window at the streets below, with Solvent doing the same. I've never been in a hovercraft before, and it's beyond even Emily's power to try and replicate. No one except a few sanctioned heroes know where they come from, but the general consensus is a cape who wants to remain anonymous.

The one piloting it barely takes his eyes off me. He's an Empowered Villain Response Team officer, like Liron and Bradley, and EViRT doesn't usually like the idea of taking vigilantes that border on being villains into their building.

The EViRT building is where sanctioned heroes are based off of, and its far less impressive than one would think. It has a sort of beauty, I suppose, with massive engraved names of heroes both past and present that wrap around the building like snakes. Still, it blends in, unlike EViRT buildings in other major cities. My theory has always been they don't want to draw attention while they're so undermanned.

The hovercraft lands on a platform near the top of the tower, letting Solvent, Barkbite, and myself off. Barkbite tells us to stay very close to him, and not make too much eye contact.

There are other sanctioned heroes here, too. There's a lot more than I thought, even though I recognize most of them. A guy who can fly, a girl who can control grass, an enby who heals themself rapidly...

All of them are giving me dirty looks.

Barkbite takes me to a high-tech medical wing, and before opening the door to the patient's room, he takes a long breath. "Okay. In there is Cavalcade, a fairly active hero. She's in bad shape. Some kind of landmine. I don't expect a miracle, but... just do what you can for her. Anything you can, okay?"

I've heard of her. Makes intangible illusions of herself. She's done a lot of good for the city, as I recall.

I tap my cane in my hand a few times like a mobster with a tire iron. "Solvent, please remain at the door."

She signs a quick "O-K," leaving me to enter the room alone.

As I approach the bed, a single thought dominates my brain: Barkbite undersold the extent of the damage.

Cavalcade shifts her head slightly. The top of head and her eyes are completely covered in bandages. Much of the rest of her visible body is bandaged as well, with the exposed edges revealing that burns are cause. "George?"

"Alas, nay. Fret not, I-"

"Beaker."

"...yes, how-"

"You have a pretty recognizable speech pattern, plus the voice filter. I try to keep on top of things... well, tried." She coughs a few times, but seems too tired to even clear her throat after.

"Yes. Please pardon my silence as I inspect you. This may take time." I take out a leather bound journal from inside my coat. There's going to be a lot to write down.

extensive 2nd degree and 3rd degree burns, gallium + pure white phosphorus + queen bee + any fruit juice + crux

complete spinal cord injury near C4, iguana tail + fiber optic cable + sparrow egg + healthy empowered human blood + crux

Missing above knee right leg, weed killer + wooden plank from shipwreck + live coral + shark fin + fossilized bone + wolf teeth (horse)

Missing below knee left leg, weed killer + nail from shipwreck + live coral + ocean water + fossilized bone + wolf teeth (wolf)

Missing right eye, any insect + purple carrot + any even-toed ungulate eye + glass marble + cat blood

Severe left eye damage, snail shell + purple carrot + ammonia + glass

37 instances of shrapnel,

Punctured lung,

Missing fi-

I cut off the stream of information. One thing at a time...

"Don't feel bad if you can't help, Beaker. It was kind of you to come all the way out here to try. The best doctors in the city can't do much at this point, either, so I didn't expect much."

Is that intended as a challenge? If it was, it worked. "Ahh, but you have yet to have the best doctor attend to you. Shall we make a wager? Assuming I advance your condition to the point you are once again able to operate independently, will you concede I am the greatest doctor in both Dudek and beyond?"

She haltingly laughs. "And what happens if you can't?"

"Then I shall hang up my mask and cane." This doesn't look impossible, if Barkbite can get everything she needs, that is.

"Sure. It's a bet. I'd shake your hand, but... you know."

"I must abscond and relay my findings with haste, lest sepsis take hold in my sloth."

I turn away and step outside, where Barkbite is pacing anxiously. At seeing me, he seems to hesitate coming over, as if he can prevent bad news by not hearing it.

"I possess news of both weal and woe, Sir Barkbite."

"What?"

"Good and bad."

"Bad first."

"Very well. I have quite a shopping list for you today." I tear out the page from my journal. "This is not the sum total, however. Merely the more pressing concerns."

Barkbite takes the page, studying it closely. "Huh... Is that how your power works?"

Shit. I completely forgot my power itself was a secret to some people. I'm too used to handing Catalyst my lists immediately.

How to salvage this... "There are two paths we may take from this point. In the first, you potentially can use that information to track my true identity, and have me arrested for my nefarious deeds. In the second, I remain available to heroes, including Cavalcade."

"You think I'd actively go behind your back to screw you over while you're offering to help?"

"Previous experience informs expectation. A story for another time. For this first list, I will need all ingredients collected precisely. I recently had someone fetch me a spider despite me requesting an insect."

"Okay... I see a lot of things that probably aren't legal to get."

"Mayhaps you understand why I practice underground, now."

He takes a breath, chest rising and falling. "I'm going to talk with some other heroes. Maybe we can divide and conquer here..."

"Once the required reagents are readied, reach out. I highly advise this be done quickly, as my requirements are prone to change if the condition worsens or improves significantly."