Industrial Strength Magic

Chapter 147: An Offer You Can’t Refuse

Scrape….scrape.

Perry lunged to his feet in the dim light of the Spirit Forge, his violent motion bringing Heather to wakefulness. The shapeshifter morphed to her feet like the T-1000, looking just as panicked as Perry.

Natalie was totally out of it.

‘what is it?’ Heather signed at him.

Perry pointed to his ear.

They paused.

Scrape…scrape…

Perry and Heather crouched low, and Perry signalled for the armor to guard Nat, quietly. It crept over to where she was sleeping and knelt, all of its weapons at the ready.

Paradox and Wraith tiptoed forward toward the noise that seemed to be emanating from behind the Spirit Forge.

Scrape…scrape…

Paradox went right while Wraith went left.

They came across the same sight.

Natalie’s dagger was perched on top of an ingot of silvery metal. It seemed to have grown joints around it’s handleguard, hilt and halfway down it’s blade, giving it a scorpion-like appearance. The dagger was using the sharpened tip of it’s blade to scratch a shape into the ingot.

It’s own shape.

“Oh, shit…” Perry whispered.

“What?” Heather asked.

“We gotta wake up Nat and go talk to Solaris. And my Gramma.”

***

“I mean in theory, that could work,” Gramma said, “It would be a twisted abomination of magic and science, only capable of telling the Replicators to cease and desist, but I don’t think any of us have any compunctions about that at the moment.”

The entire table of Anchors heaved a sigh of relief.

“This isn’t nearly enough soul, though,” Gramma said, pointing at the little dagger robot, still busily carving out a copy of itself. “We would need more impressions of Professor Replica’s soul. Where did you get this one?” she asked.

“I’m not sure.” Natalie said with a shrug, “Since I’ve been getting better at percieving my soul, I’ve notice more and more things I never saw before, thousands smudges from something as simple as a handshake. My soul is practically littered with them, and more are appearing the better I get. I kind of just assumed this was one of them, and was using it to build a prototype. If I had to guess, it was the digitizer.”

“That what we’re calling it now?” Perry asked.

“It’s better than ‘human meatgrinder’.” Nat responded.

“It was his Magnum Opus,” Perry said. “The human xerox machine. He poured his soul into making it. Literally. Maybe some of his oldest bots have a little piece of him in them, but they’ve copied themselves so much that it’s a needle in a haystack, but these ‘digitizers’…they didn’t copy themselves. There’s probably only one, or maybe a handful, and they’ve got enough soul in them for Nat to come away with a piece of his soul.”

“A piece of Professor Replica’s soul.” Perry said, his voice dominating the silent room.

“So in theory, if we caught enough of these things, Gramma Z could stitch together a Frankenstein of Professor Replica that they might listen to?” Freddy steel summarized, glancing at Solaris.

“It’s been tried before…” Solaris said, his voice gravelly. There were actual bags under the near-omnipotent super’s eyes, which just went to show how tired he really was. “Just never like this.”

Solaris brooded for a moment, staring straight into the grain of the fancy boardroom table.

“You’ve got my permission. Do it,” he said. “Take whatever you need. This is your team’s assignment now.”

“Yessir,” Perry said. “I’m just not sure how we’re gonna find the digitizers. The replicators moved the last one out of Chicago for sure.” There was no way the replicators would allow something that integral to their plan lie around in a known location.

Dad’s massive metal suit raised its hand.

“…I have an idea where you could find one.”

***Ten years ago****

“Gamble with MY son’s life?” Darryl muttered to himself, boiling over with emotions he usually shoved to the side. Concern, betrayal, fear, heartbreak.

All of it seemed to roil inside him with no possible outlet.

He paced back and forth in the lair he’d dug under the new house. It still had that new lair smell. They’d only been married a year and a half, and she was trying to kill his son! Claudette had completely ignored his opinion. She would vehemently deny it, but there was more than a little of her mom’s callous disregard for others peeking through her bubbly exterior.

Normally that sort of thing was right up Darryl’s alley, but at the moment…

“if it killed your sister, why the HELL would you…” Darryl muttered to himself, hitting the far wall before spinning on the ball of his foot and pacing back the other direction.

He had to do something about this. He had to protect his son, somehow. Six years of clandestine visits, occasional sleepovers, being called ‘uncle’ had finally become ‘dad’ and they had become a FAMILY and he was failing his son!

Let’s view this rationally, the symbiotic spirit exists in Claudette’s hippie bullshit realm, I need to make something using Claudette’s Hippie Bullshit in order to even interact with it. Nothing Darryl made in meatspace would have any effect.

As he was pacing, a glint of light from the shelf caught his eye. It was the Death Crystal he’d stolen from Marigold. Claudette’s Hippie Bullshit.

What was it they said about it? It can harvest causal energy and add it to your own? It’s essentially a Drainer…but it’s a rock.

The effects it has are on the same dimensional axis as Claudette’s Hippie Bullshit.

Darryl glanced over at the partially dismantled machine that no one knew he had. To most it looked like a piece of meteorite, but it was, in fact, a piece of loot he’d gotten from one of Professor replica’s blown-out bases, the site of a grand battle.

Replicators…grey goo.

Darryl felt the Tinker Twitch fully seize him in its grasp, harder than he’d ever felt. Like he was a puppet in the hands of some greater force. A manic chuckle bubbling up in his throat as he grabbed the Death Crystal off the shelf and brought it over to his workbench.

We’re going to make something extraordinary, you and I, and Claudette’s Hippie Bullshit will never hurt my son again!

Cackling, Darryl threw the crystal into a grinder, which fed the resulting dust through all his measuring equipment.

Bits of his memory around here were heavily spotty, due to the fugue state of the Tinker Twitch. He vaguely recalled creating some kind of 4-d magnetic device to align the crystal into nanobots on multiple planes of reality, shouting in joy when they finally began grabbing pieces of inert death-crystal and replicating themselves on the fly, disappearing into nothing as the completed nanobots phased out into the fifth dimension at random.

Darryl wiped sticky sweat away from his forehead and searched for the 4-d magnetic aligner. It had vanished into the block universe an hour ago. Or did he imagine it really hard?

Whatever, I got what I needed. I gotta inject this into Perry before it loses it’s fizz.

The nanobots were currently in the process of replicating and migrating across dimensions where they would take hold in Claudette’s Hippie Dimension. If he injected Perry after they were mostly done migrating, Perry’s protection might never boot up, or it could take years.

Darryl loaded the nanobots into a saline solution and put that into a syringe, giggling manically as he held it above his head, aiming for the tube leading up to the surface. Up to his home, where his son was being spiritually eaten alive.

Darryl frowned as his leg gave out.

His entire body came crashing down, like a puppet with its string’s cut.

What is happening!?

Darryl barely had enough energy to shelter the syringe on the way down, preventing it from shattering on the floor.

Darryl forgot to breathe, lying there, staring at the door to the elevator without comprehending what he was looking at.

The syringe rolled away from his hand, and a tearing sensation filled his very soul.

Nothing mattered, really. He could just sit here and allow himself to die from starvation, and he would be just as much a part of the universe as he was before. Just a bit of carbon scattering on the wind. No more or less important than anything else.

Living was overrated anyway.

As Darryl’s thoughts began to fade away, joining the peaceful meta-state of the universe, a blissful nothing, he perceived the world around him fading away, leaving behind a starry void.

He couldn’t muster the desire to turn his head, but he could feel the attention of something on him. Like the warmth of the sun, he simply knew it was there.

This isn’t so bad, Darryl closed his eyes, resolving to wait to rejoin the whole.

Except…

Except, if I don’t give Perry the shot, he’ll die.

Darryl’s soul was hollowed out, all desire to live, all his like, dislikes, desires and motivations reduced to a thin film around an empty bubble.

But if there was one thing Darryl knew, it was that he’d been a stubborn bastard five minutes ago, and he’d be DAMNED if a little lethal soul damage stopped him from saving his son.

Groaning, Darryl lifted his head, a herculean task against the pervasive ennui. In the starry void, he couldn’t see the elevator to his son. He could only see the syringe in front of him, scintillating with power.

Only the syringe, and…the meteorite in the corner.

Somehow, in the depths of his madness, he finally figured out what the machine was for.

My body isn’t going to make it to Perry’s bedroom, Darryl thought, inspecting his hand, which seemed to be withering under his gaze. Perhaps his physical reality and Claudette’s Hippie Reality were overlapping in this starry void, showing him how badly wounded he really was.

Did I handle Death Crystal without gloves!?

I’m not going to make it up there…but ‘I’ could, Darryl thought, crawling towards Professor Replica’s machine.

The attention beaming down on him from above studied him curiously, like a particularly interesting insect as he flopped onto the meteorite and began unhooking the devices he’d attached in a vain attempt to reverse engineer the machine.

He understood what he’d been missing now, but the point was moot.

In his altered state, Darryl was able to access a control panel that only existed in the mind. Or wherever he was right now. He hastily cleared out any pre-programming he could find, and flipped the imaginary switch.

The lumpy meteorite hummed to life and began folding in on itself as it floated to shoulder-height, turning to aim at him, revealing a glowing aperture.

Darryl glanced up at the empty night sky that watched him back, its attention beating down on him, whispering secrets even more profound than those he’d just discovered. Even more profane.

He gave the thing the finger, shortly before Darryl Zauberer was reduced to nothing.

In the other corner of the room, one of Mechanaut’s decoys hummed to life.

***Paradox***

“And that’s how I know there’s one in my lair!” Mechanaut said cheerfully. “It’s tucked away underneath my undisclosed son’s bouncy castle from when he was twelve, and the boat I never got around to finishing, behind the air compressor and a bunch of cans of kerosene.

“You DIED!?” Perry demanded.

“I got better,” dad said with a shrug.

Helplessly, Perry glanced over at mom, who nodded. Gramma nodded too and rolled her eyes.

“You’ve got a piece of Replicator tech…in your garage?” Freddy Steel asked, jaw slowly dropping. “You realize we kill people for that, right?”

“Supervillain,” Mechanaut said, his massive suit thumbing its own chest with a clink.

“I told you I never felt his real body with my powers. I told you, didn’t I!?” Quake asked, glaring accusingly at Hexen.

“Yeah, you told me,” Mom said, rubbing her temple.

Perry frowned.

“They don’t know…didn’t you call him Darryl like two minutes ago?”

“It’s a minor enchantment that scrambles anything anyone says in my presence that could give away our relationship. It has a short whitelist, which you and mom are on, obviously.” Mom said with a shrug.

“I know, right?” Quake said, glancing back at Mechanaut. “This whole time we’ve been treating him like a Tinker when he’s more like a technopath. We’ve got you now, M. You’re going down.”

“I can go down anytime you like, sweetheart,” The Mechanaut suit said, winking at mom with a metallic clink.

I’m gonna be sick.

“Darryl!”

“Enough.” Solaris’s voice cut through the bickering as he tossed the meteorite onto the table with a crunch. The super must’ve found, penetrated and pilfered Mechanaut’s lair in a fraction of a second.

“I would have really liked to be aware of this earlier, Mechanaut.” Solaris said, staring at the empty Mechanaut suit.

“Eh,” Dad shrugged.

“What can you do with this?” Solaris asked Gramma, pointing at the inert lump of pitted metal.

Gramma passed her hand over the digitizer.

“Yes, there’s quite a bit of Professor Replica’s soul in here.” Gramma said before glancing at dad. “Less than there would’ve been if it’d been properly stored.”

“Eh,” Dad shrugged.

“But still quite a bit. I estimate there’s only half a dozen of these, at most. With one more like this I would have enough to make a facsimile of the original Professor, accurate down to the soul, that the machines would have no choice but to obey. An off-switch.”

“Where do you suppose we’ll get another of these? It’s already a miracle we’ve got one of them, and if they’re smart – which they always are – they’ll have it hidden and guarded.” Solaris asked.

“I can make a sympathy spell. It’s basically a homing signal used for locating car keys and such.” Hexen said, motioning to the digitizer. “Using this as the base, it’ll find the rest of them.”

Solaris frowned for a moment before glancing up at Perry.

“You feel up to retrieving it, Paradox?”

New quest!

Retrieve a copy of Professor replica’s Magnum Opus and bring it back to Nexus.

Reward: 10,000 XP, reputation up with Franklin City, Nexus, humanity in general. Continued existence of species.

Penalty for failure: Death, end of natural humanity on Earth.

Typically the penalty for failure can be avoided by rejecting the quest within 24 hours, but in this case, the penalty for failure is highly probable in any case.

Perry checked his distance to the next level.

Paradox Zauberer (Perry Z.)

Class: Garage Tinker

Level 10

HP: 11

Body: 10

Stability: 38

Nerve: 16 (22)

Attunement: 48 (42)

Free Points:0

XP to next level: 312

Spells: Light (5/5), Dragor’s Kinesis (3/3), Gretchen’s Idyllic Manifestation (1/1)

Three weeks of tearing through bots had gotten him very close to level eleven. If he went on the mission he’d level halfway through, and likely again on returning.

Then I can finally get rid of this headache, Perry thought, choking back a yawn.

Plus the whole saving humanity thing.

“Why him?” Freddy steel asked. “Why not us, or you?”

“Because if it’s a wild goose chase, we’re done.” Solaris said. “I need to be here. I need my anchors here. Replicators have fed me attractive misinformation before.”

“I can do it,” Perry said, nodding.

Mom looked like she wanted to say something, but thought better of it.

“Are you sure you can manage it, Paradox?” she asked. It was odd being called his super name by his mother. Usually she called him by his full name when he’d done something wrong.

“I am,” Perry said, nodding. “I got to Chicago and back just fine.”

It was a bit touch and go, but technically correct.

“Can you cast the spell so that he’ll be able to locate them?” Solaris asked, looking at Hexen.

“Sure.” Hexen said with a nod.

“Alright, make it happen. Next topic is the water shortage. Take a short recess and we’ll see what we can work out.”

“Stay behind,” Solaris’s voice whispered in Perry’s ear.

The surrounding supers filed out, stretching from the long session, leaving Perry and Solaris alone. The light-based super walked up next to Perry and whispered in his ear.

“Your grandmother was lying. I don’t know what about specifically, But if I had to guess, she was lying about the number of Digitizers it’ll take to make the Off Switch.”

“She’s gonna make a spare and try and conquer Earth with the Replicators?” Perry guessed, completely unsurprised.

“She’ll start a fight that’ll probably destroy Franklin City if I call her out on it,” Solaris continued, “So we’ll play along, get the other digitizer and she’ll help us make an off switch. I’ll be the first to admit that a Franklin city under Marigold’s tyranny is better than nothing at all, but it wouldn’t be my first choice.”

“Me neither,” Perry muttered.

“You know about blending magic and tech better than anyone in Franklin city, hell the whole Earth. You think you can do something about this without the witch catching on?”

On the tech side, sure. Gramma was basically tech-illiterate, and Perry could probably sneak something into her remote that would sabotage it at a critical juncture, limit it, or render it inoperable. Plus, Perry was basically the only person Soalris could ask to sabotage Marigold Zauberer without having to worry about whether or not they’d be killed in retaliation.

Perry nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks, kid.” Solaris nodded and dismissed him.

Halfway down the hall, one of Gramma’s shadow bodyguards grabbed Perry by the arm and dragged him through an illusory wall.

“Paradox,” Gramma Z said, smiling warmly at him as she sat in a chair in the concealed meeting room. “Our time has come to rule the world.”

Perry rubbed his aching temples. The headache just wouldn’t go away, and this backbiting at the end of the world wasn’t doing it any favors.

“Yes, Grandmother?” Perry said once he’d recovered his calm.

“I lied. I have enough to make the ‘off switch’ now, but I need your help to make it. Not an off switch, but your crown. A crown that can bestow control over the greatest army any world has ever seen and secure a future safe from the ravages of The Tide. Do this with me, and the Zauberer line will have a kingdom again, and you will be its king.”

“Pass.”

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