That was a lot of permits, Perry thought, his head spinning from the sheer amount of paperwork required for doing a little innocent lairscaping in the middle of the city. And that was with John doing all the heavy lifting.
I haven’t really considered what kind of building I want above my lair, either. Perry didn’t really have enough materials to make something ostentatious like Locust’s, he didn’t have any appetite for a business like the bowling alley above Dave’s, either.
It presented itself as more of a headache than a useful source of income. Perry did not need a lot of money.
Just a hole in the ground and a sign that says ‘Definitely not a Lair!”
Perry was briefly jealous of Dad, who had his lair under a nice comfy suburban house.
Living the dream, man.
That did galvanize Perry to decide on a business: A nice midrange motel. Somewhere with extra room and a decent sized kitchen and rec room for when he wanted to host friends and team-members, and the rest of the time it could be housing people for cheap.
Alright, I can do that, Perry thought, sinking into his tinker-twitch as he began designing the layout and feeding it into the machine.
Inspected by a Certified Electrician, my ass.
Obviously the motel had to be able to take a bullet without appearing to be able to take a bullet. Thankfully with Perry’s perk affecting the finished product, that would not be a problem. Even the flimsiest motel walls were still a couple inches thick, and with Perry’s magical mystery machine printing them out of repurposed concrete harvested from the lair dig, they would be tough, yet thin and seedy-looking.
Perfect.
Plumbing, electricity, patching the hole I poked in the sewers…oh heck, lets add a swimming pool and gym.
Perry had been wondering about the compounding effect of Body on his strength.
It was probable that his modest 10.25% increase in Body had a greater than 10.25% increase in his strength, as Body dictated both the strength of his muscles and the rate at which they healed from strain. In essence he gained muscle 10.25% faster, lost it 10.25% slower, and what he had worked 10.25% harder.
The combined strength improvement had to be higher than what he’d originally estimated, if only marginally, and it would likely pay dividends to work out occasionally. Especially if Body prevented the loss of muscle, making infrequent workouts more viable.
Especially once we get to level three and those numbers pop up to 15.762%
Perry had made a graph on an excel spreadsheet and memorized most of it.
If we ever have Titan or other bruisers over, we’re gonna need exercise equipment that can accommodate them.
For bruisers, rather than weights, which took up far too much space and material, Perry eventually settled on something a bit like a bowflex made with spring steel and reinforced by his perk to outlandish degrees of resistance.
It was a lot cheaper and more space-efficient than ten thousand pounds of lead on the end of a stick, anyway.
Despite high efficiency in repurposing materials, Perry still found himself short by a fair amount of copper, glass, tungsten filiments, plastic et al.
He could buy them, but Perry knew of a place where he could get most of those raw ingredients for free.
Beach Cleanup!
Perry pulled out his phone and dialed up Titan while looking at the tide charts. The low wasn’t for another three or so hours, not until this afternoon, so there was time to make some plans.
“What’s up?” Titan’s voice echoed over the phone.
“First of all, what do you bench, and second, are you free for beach cleanup this afternoon?”
“Fifteen thousand pounds, and no, I’m not free. I’ve got plans.” Perry heard the phone shuffle around and what sounded suspiciously like a cat meowing. His suspicions were confirmed an instant later.
“Yes, you’ll get yours Mr. Kitty, just be patient. Anyway, I’ve got plans and I submitted my number to Nexus as an emergency contact in case they need extra muscle on the wall. I’m basically on call all High tide.”
“I see,” Perry said, deflating a little.
“You can definitely get Hardcase to go with you, though. Beach cleanup is basically a tinker convention, she’s been chomping at the bit to go since the moment the sirens went off, just hasn’t had enough backup to feel safe.”
“Good to know.”
“No problem, later,” Titan said before hanging up.
Perry hung up and dialed Hardcase.
“What’s up, Paradox?” She asked, her voice unmodulated.
“Was thinking about going down to Beach Cleanup and-“
“I’m in, when and where?”
“Well…” Perry glanced down at his phone. “Water’s gonna be out for three hours starting around three PM. As for where…southeast gate and walk a ways down the beach to get away from the crowds?”
“The crowds are safer…” Hardcase said with trepidation.
“I’ll come fully loaded,” Perry said. He had just bought some fresh ingredients, after all. “I’m also going to be bringing Star. Actually she wants to be called Wraith.
“Seems a little…”
“Evil? Yeah, I tried telling her that, but she insisted it was too metal to pass up, and the name wasn’t taken yet, strangely.”
“So she triggered?”
“Yep.”
“That’s fantastic! Does she walk through walls or disapparate or something?”
“She gets selectively floppy.”
“Oh…Well, I’m sure she can figure something out?” Hardcase ended the sentence with a tentative question mark.
“She’s done more with less.”
“So two thirty, southeast gate?”
“Yep.”
Perry then dialed up Heather and got her on board by guaranteeing her a share even if she went missing.
Around two fifteen, Perry was staring up at the massive gate, a vault door of tinker-made steel that stood twenty feet tall and just as wide, set into the enormous wall like a hatch.
It was being cracked open just wide enough to let people through and people in spandex were lining up at the desk to be let out.
Beach cleanup was a regular event during High Tide. The water wasn’t all the way up to the wall 100% of the time because the earth was spinning and whatever was causing High Tide wasn’t geosynchronous, so when Earth faced away, the ocean actually went out for miles in every direction, revealing a massive vista of waterlogged gunk.
Needless to say, Perry had never been, since he was too young the last time, but he’d heard from his dad what it was like.
Free part bonanza, basically.
The replicators and prawns tore each other to pieces during High Tide and their scattered parts could be found all along the beach, from just up against the wall all the way out several miles.
Needless to say, the further out you went, the more dangerous it got, as a replicator or prawn could show up out of nowhere. It was also more lucrative to go out farther, because of reduced competition for parts and a higher density of them.
Given that Paradox, Hardcase, and Wraith could fly (in their suits), Perry estimated that they could go out a bit further and just fly away if something looked dangerous.
It wasn’t long before Heather showed up, wearing the suit Perry’s made for her. She had a power now, but that didn’t mean she was very good at it yet, and the extra strength from the power armor would come in handy.
Hardcase showed up in her mechsuit, sending up a plume of dust as she landed beside them. Along for the ride was someone Perry was not expecting to see.
Warcry was riding on Hardcase’s shoulder and hopped off when the mechsuit landed.
Perry wanted to demand what Warcry was doing there, but Hardcase beat him too it.
“I told Warcry where I was going and she said she wanted to go all out on something without having to worry about damages.”
“The beach is a good place for that.” Perry said with a shrug, mentally weighing whether the extra firepower was worth the headache.
Yes. More security is always better than less.
“Nexus buys replicator Scrap at a hundred dollars a kilo,” Perry said. “Before we get started, is everyone on board with a four-way split? I assume Hardcase and I will take our quarter home, and Wraith and Warcry will be fine with monetary compensation?
“Wraith?” Warcry asked.
“Isn’t it metal?”
“Heck yeah,” The energy user and the floppy girl fist-bumped.
“I’m not good enough with my power yet to switch to hyperweave, but it’s coming.” Heather said.
“Can’t wait.”
“You guys good with money? Do you care if Hardcase and I sort out the parts we want and leave the rest with you guys, as long as the weight distribution is still even?”
“Fine with me,” Warcry said. Heather nodded.
“Alright, let’s get in line.”
They got in line, and only spent a minute or two before they were at the front of the line.
“Reason for exiting.” The man said with the most bored tone Perry had ever had the pleasure of experiencing.
“Beach cleanup,” Perry responded.
“Sign this affidavit that you are in fact, a super, understand the risks of beach-combing during High Tide, that you will be locked out by seven P.M., and all scrap must be run through a scanner at designated ports in the wall, and you hold Franklin City blameless in the event of your death or maiming.”
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He handed Perry a piece of paper that said the same thing, additionally it had a spot for timestamps and weight recording.
“Sign that with your super name then we can record how much scrap you brought in at the end of the night and compensate you for it.”
“What if I want to keep it?”
“You can follow your scrap through the scanner and pick it up on the other side, rather than release it to Franklin City.” the attendant said, his tone not shifting an ounce.
“Alright, thank you,” Perry said, signing the paper and stepping through the enormous vault door, and was suddenly blasted in the face with a gust of salty sea air.
It smelled mostly like ocean with just a hint of rust and blood. The corpses of stranded fish in the shallow pools they’d been trapped in wouldn’t begin to truly begin rotting before high tide covered them back up.
As far as the eye could see, the ocean had withdrawn, revealing floppy seaweed, stunted coral, crabs hiding in the wettest little pools they could find or under the seaweed, waiting for the water to come back in.
There were Tinker beach-combers dotting the landscape nearly as far as the eye could see, pulling robotic parts out of the sand at a leisurely pace and dropping them into wheelbarrows, trucks, trailers, whatever they could afford.
A group of four young men were even playing volleyball close to the wall, their jetlike mechs parked beside them, some fifteen feet tall.
Hardcase joined him a moment later and even through her modulated speakers, he could hear her sustained squeal of joy.
“Look at that, it’s a replicator dreadnaught, and they’re just taking it apart.”
She pointed off to the side, and perry craned his neck, spotting a lump in the sand in the distance with tiny mechs crawling all over it.
Perry had assumed it was a rock formation or a hill.
Nothing like the giant corpse of a robot to get the greed pumping, Perry thought, resisting the urge to steeple his fingers or wring his hands melodramatically.
Not in front of Hardcase and Warcry, anyway.
Once Wraith and Warcry had joined them, Perry triggered the Floating Armaments he’d designed for the occasion.
A massive tub of phantom steel manifested beside him, along with several grabbers and a couple BFS (Big Friendly Swords) just in case of robot or prawn attack.
The control symbol for each of them was carefully inked over a large portion of Perry’s body, ensuring that all of them would last at least until the next morning.
“The area around the wall’s already picked clean,” Perry said, pointing out towards the ocean. “Onward!”
Perry hopped into his massive tub and rode it like a minecart, heading southeast, heading for unpicked stretches of beach.
“Oh my god, the mud is insane!” Warcry said, taking her shoes off and tossing them in Perry’s collection bin, the mud ankle-deep around her feet.
“You could ride in the bin?” Perry offered.
“And waste this opportunity to squish mud between my toes?” Warcry asked, seemingly offended at the mere suggestion. “You must be joking.”
“Jealous…” Heather said, her modulated voice wistful.
The energy user proceeded to carefully follow alongside the two power armors and mech-suit, wiggling her toes as she walked along the squishy seafloor.
Seems like a good way to step on a sea urchin, but what do I know? Paradox and Hardcase were perfectly happy not interacting with nature too much.
They found their first piece of scrap after about ten minutes of walking: A robotic arm with a nice actuator and tons of good wiring.
Nice.
Perry and the reset of the team spread out a little, keeping each other within about twenty feet in case they had to rush to assist each other. Warcry was in the middle as the glass cannon, with Perry and Hardcase forming the wings of the formation.
Once the wall shrank down to only about the height of his hand, the treasure hunting started getting real good. Perry was picking out arms, legs, processing cores, heads with delicate sensors inside, bulletproof glass, you name it.
The bin was getting pretty full of scrap when Hardcase’s excited voice interrupted Perry’s focus on the muddy seafloor.
“Oh my god, you guys!”
“What is it!?” Perry asked, whipping around to face their mechsuit teammate.
“I found a quantum foam battery! It’s in perfect shape inside a Flagship replicator’s torso!”
Quantum foam batteries were rare Tinker-tech that produced energy from maybe. They weren’t enough to run an entire mech at full tilt, but they produced a strong, steady current indefinitely, which could be saved up in other batteries while the suit wasn’t in use. In short, it could be used to make a suit that recharged itself.
The flagship replicator must have gotten it’s battery from a Tinker’s suit at some point, as the machines couldn’t make the things themselves.
Perry would love to have one for his base, but he didn’t need it as bad as Heather probably did to keep her energy costs down.
“I’m heading over.”
“Same,” Heather said.
“Me too,” Warcry chimed in.
“Hey, back off our find!” Perry heard faintly as he approached the three of them.
The Flagship replicator was about the size of a small barn, with half of its torso torn out by prawn mandibles, exposing the glowing battery.
The replicator was just big enough that it had concealed another group of Tinkers approaching the robot from the other side.
It was a set of matching blue and white power armors, with fanciful swoops to the helmets and joints that suggested a focus on style over substance.
Since they’d been hidden behind the ruin itself, there was honestly no way of telling which of them had gotten to it first.
“What are you talking about? We found this!” Hardcase said, pointing at the half-buried robot.
“Nuh uh, The dynamic duo found it first. Get outta here with your second-rate garbage and go back to picking up second rate garbage. What is that, aluminum? Seriously?”
“Bro, there’s a quantum battery!” the right-hand power armor shouted, pointing at the glowing loot.
“Dude, nice!”
“That battery is MINE!” Hardcase shouted with a level of assertiveness That made Perry rock back on his heels in surprise.
“What are you gonna use it for, keeping the garage lights on? It’s obvious you don’t have anything big enough to make good use of it. I guess I can see how it would appeal to the poor, though.” The rightmost armor said.
“Oh, dear me, I can’t pay the electricity bills. I wish I could plug a six million-dollar battery into my workshop and never have to worry about it again.” The left armor japed.
“Haha, yeah!”
That was my idea, yes, Perry admitted internally.
Hardcase’s mechsuit was trembling with rage, which was saying something, because her entire body would have to be violently shaking against the controls of her suit for that to happen.
“Hardcase found it first,” Perry said, stepping forward and showing solidarity in the hopes that it would calm Hardcase down before she started shooting and shove these jerks off.
Heather and Warcry wordlessly stood beside Heather, glaring at the two power-armors.
“What, you think you can stand up to the Dynamic Duo? The leftmost armor asked. “I haven’t heard of any of you no-name losers.”
“Paradox,” Paradox said, making sure to show off his Big Friendly Swords hovering behind him.
“Oh my god, it’s the Cardboard Kid!” The rightmost armor said, pointing at Perry. “I have heard of you! You may be a complete IDIOT, but fighting a prawn in a cardboard suit!? That takes cajones!”
“What is it, aluminum now? What alliterates with aluminum?” The left one said, musing. “Aluminum asshole?”
“Nice.”
They bumped fists with the distinctive clink of expensive Tinker-made advanced ceramics.
Wow. I am really mad right now, a tiny part of Perry’s brain thought idly as the rest of his body entered fight-or-flight mode, his Big Friendly Swords shivering in anticipation.
Perry took a deep, calming breath. It was always best to threaten murder with a clear head.
“Listen up,” Warcry said while Perry was forming a tangible sentence. “Hardcase is getting that battery. Whether that’s over a pile of scrap that used to be your armor…that part is up to you.”
To punctuate her statement, Warcry emanated sheets of crackling purple energy form her body.
“Gonna get violent?” Left said. “Attack us and watch yourself get put on the Cowl list so fast it’ll make your head spin.”
Warcry balled her hands into fists, biting her lip hard.
“But seeing as we’re cool, we’ll allow you the opportunity to walk away with our battery.”
“There’s only one way of settling disputes on the beach.” Right said.
“Yeah, the law of the beach,” Left said.
The two of them went back-to-back in a move that had clearly been well rehearsed.
“Double’s beach volleyball.”
Perry frowned.
“Come again?”
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