Apocalypse Parenting

The average Clothes-Lover currently possesses five abilities. A minority, slightly over 1/12, have one or two abilities. About half have three to four. Most of the remainder have five or six, while another 1/12 have seven or eight. Higher ability totals are too uncommon for us to estimate their prevalence.

--Radio transmission from Voices for Non-Citizens

Cassie had begged to be allowed to get her Specialty first, and I saw no reason to deny her.

I’d been concerned about keeping her still long enough to claim the Points Siphons. It had been a problem initially, but after she’d gotten her first ability, she’d been far more cooperative, even enthusiastic.

She’s taken Summoned Transport and, fairly predictably, summoned one in the form of a rainbow unicorn. Pointy and I would have our work cut out to guide her away from that and into something more protective, but at least the magical experience had made today much easier.

Her spirits had remained high even after she was underwhelmed by Cleanse, and she’d found Seek surprisingly enjoyable.

As I set her down on the ground of the Arsenal, she gave the nearest soldier a smug smile. “Watch this! I spy… somefing red!”

She shut her eyes tight and spun around, one outstretched arm pointing. Only after she’d come to a full stop did she open her eyes to see herself indicating the red X crossing the surface of an Alabama state flag. Upon seeing it, she clapped both hands to her mouth, losing herself in giggles.

“Don’t forget to spy your friend,” Flip told her, jerking a thumb backward to indicate the pouch attached to the glider, where Pointy was still enclosed. The one low point of today was that every flight had left the turtle in something of a stupor, since Flip, our pilot, had also been part of the Challenge where the boys and I had been set to negative Novelty.

“I will never forget Pointy!” Cassie said, sounding offended. “But the zipper is too hard!”

The soldier who’d been the audience for Cassie’s “I Spy” demonstration snorted, then moved forward to release the little turtle and hand her to Cassie. The turtle immediately “woke up” as the soldier extracted her, craning her neck, a confused expression on her face. It was the same thing that had happened at every stop, but I was still a little relieved. It was unnerving, watching Pointy just “turn off.” I’d seen the error countless times by now, but every time it happened I hadn’t been able to keep from wondering if she’d really boot back up again.

I reached out to take Cassie’s hand and escort her across the field, but she pulled away with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, summoning her new pony-sized transport to carry her instead. I contented myself to helping her aboard.

When we entered the shelter around the Points Siphon, I saw that someone had thoughtfully put a stepstool in place next to the base, allowing Cassie to reach the gem easily without being held or dangling off the back of her faux unicorn. Since both strategies were things we’d employed earlier in the day, I appreciated the thoughtfulness.

As we waited out the countdown for my daughter to claim the Siphon, more and more people showed up. Most, I was unfamiliar with, but I was pleased to see Lacey and Deskbot again, and gratified when Colonel Yoshiro hustled up at the last moment, looking frazzled.

An aide tapped my shoulder, his eyes on a mechanical watch. “You will want to step back, Ms. Moretti. Outside the marked circle, if you please.”

I frowned, but obeyed, retreating several steps until I was on the other side of a line that had been painted on the grass. “Why-”

I cut off as a sphere of shifting color burst out from my daughter. Unthinkingly, I reached out to touch it, then yanked my hand away at the stinging sensation.

Flip caught my arm. “Meghan! Hold up! I know we warned you about this. Don’t hurt yourself.”

I frowned, shaking her hand away, but not moving to touch the orb. “You did. I was just… surprised.”

In fact, I’d known about this effect before the military. I was the one who’d shared news of Specialties - and the colorful process of granting them - after I’d run into someone during a Challenge who'd witnessed the acquisition of a Specialty.

The new information I’d gotten from the military today had been a refresher on what I’d already known, as well as more detailed data they’d been able to gather as they repeatedly witnessed Speciality acquisitions. The shifting color-patterns on the orb weren’t the same every time, but they didn’t seem to reflect the person’s skills. As unsatisfying as it was to the science-minded people set to analyzing it, the current leading theory was that the patterns were random flavor, the intergalactic equivalent of a screen-saver.

They hadn’t yet been able to find any way to pierce or penetrate the orb. It was opaque to every instrument they’d been able to test, whether mechanical, mundane senses, or system-granted upgrades. When it appeared, it would push people away quickly, but not with enough force to break bones. If they had at least two abilities, they wouldn't so much as bruise. After they'd been pushed away, attempts to get through the barrier would be greeted with unpleasant reactions that scaled in accordance with the amount of force used.

“We haven’t tried firing a bullet through,” Flip had told me. “Or having someone with a purely offensive Speciality hit it as hard as they could. Once the reactions started getting into the ‘life-threatening’ range, it just became too much risk for no obvious reward.”

I was glad they’d finished up their tests before Cassie and I got our abilities, although that was probably silly of me. None of my interactions with Redstone leadership had suggested that they would be quick to fire a bullet toward a three-year-old.

“Two minutes!” the aide with the watch called out.

The Arsenal had also gathered data on how long it took to grant Specialties, and the amount of time seemed random. The low end was very fast, around 30 seconds, while the high end was around three minutes. At the two-minute mark, Cassie had taken longer than 75% of the people they’d monitored.

It was hard not to worry. There shouldn’t be anything dangerous about getting a Specialty. We were following the rules of the game. If it took longer, it took longer.

That was all.

Definitely.

It suddenly occurred to me that Specialties was something the system had some degree of control over, the same system Pointy had so recently gone out of her way to irritate and strongarm. They seemed to have built some kind of rapport following that, but… who knew how a Murder Mainframe viewed things?

Too late now. The thought flitted through my mind, and I resolutely forced my mind away from the topic, flicking on Analyze to try to find meaning in the patterns swirling in front of me. I probably wouldn’t find anything if the Arsenal hadn’t, but it was a better use of my time than spiraling into worry.

Needs a soundtrack. I thought. The aesthetic really makes me think ‘transformation sequence,’ but it’s damn weird that it’s silent. I guess that’s what happens when the species in charge of this is prejudiced against sounds. Well… and I don’t think any music with the right vibe could have kept going for this long.

I tried not to look at the people around me. There was nothing I could do to accelerate this process or rescue Cassie if she was in trouble. The only person I could affect by worrying was myself.

I didn’t quite succeed, and seeing my own concern mirrored on the face of the watch-bearing aide was the opposite of reassuring.

Trying to penetrate the barrier was unlikely to accomplish anything other than my own injury, but as the seconds ticked by, I couldn’t help but lay a testing hand on its surface, enduring the stinging pain as I tried to force my Life Sense to pick up on my daughter.

“Ms. Moretti, please step back,” Colonel Yoshiro said.

“How long has it been?” I asked.

His eyes flicked to the aide, and he shook his head briefly.

“Hey!” I said. “You can’t just keep it a secret. If something’s wrong-”

“There is no indication that anything is wrong, Ms. Moretti. We already know the time taken to grant Specialties is variable, and Pointy’s relationship with the system is… unique. Please step back. I would prefer not to give orders to restrain you.”

“Restrain me?!”

Isn’t it weird, how you can be 100% aware that you’re lashing out, but sometimes the knowledge still isn’t enough to let you stop yourself? In a different situation I probably would have walked out and given myself time to cool down, but I sure as hell wasn’t leaving Cassie. I glared fiercely at the colonel, and opened my mouth to say something I was vaguely aware I’d regret later, when blessedly, the bubble around Cassie finally popped.

My daughter stood, swaying slightly, then dropped to a sitting position on the stepstool. “Whoa.”

Her eyes were wide and slightly off-kilter, reminding me of the time we’d had to rush her to the ER a year ago for an extreme fever.

I was across the distance in an instant, resting a hand on her lower back. “Sweetheart? Are you okay?”

“I am weird,” Cassie muttered.

Colonel Yoshiro cleared his throat. “Ms. Pointy? Could you give us the details on Ms. Cassie’s Specialty?”

“It’s called Integration,” Pointy said. “It’s a passive ability that ties her more closely to all her semi-autonomous abilities. I believe it will allow her to command us mentally and share and receive data. In the case of her summons, I believe the data received will be limited to audiovisual feeds and structural integrity summaries, but I have been given far broader capabilities. In addition, and of particular note, Integration has perfect synergy with Information Assistant."

Pointy created a projected display on the wall of the shelter around the Points Siphon, putting up a summary of Cassie's current abilities and synergies.

Cassiopeia Moretti

Information Assistant 825%

Auto. Offensive Assisstant 658.3*%

Summon Shell 391.6*%

Summon Seeker 700%

Overlay 691.3*%

Analyze 633.3*%

Life Sense 283.3*%

Combat Companion 641.6*%

Summon Transport 641.6*%

Cleanse 641.6*%

Seek 691.6*%

Integration 825%

I frowned, suddenly understanding why my daughter had acted like she was hallucinating. “Will she be okay? You’re not… All the extra stuff isn’t frying her brain?”

Pointy lifted a foreleg, waggling it from side to side. “She’s a bit overwhelmed right now, but she’s not being harmed. I’m restraining myself to the most narrow link I can and trying to help her moderate what she’s receiving from her other abilities.”

“Maybe if she dismisses her transport?” I suggested. “That’s the only thing she has active right now aside from you.”

“Good idea,” Pointy said.

Moments later, Cassie’s vision seemed to refocus. She still looked a little out of it, but it was more “watching fireworks” than “fever dream,” so I relaxed.

“Did you do that, Pointy? Can you issue commands to Ms. Cassie’s other defenders?” Colonel Yoshiro asked.

Pointy nodded. “Yes, with Cassie’s permission.”

“Well, that’s magnificent!” Colonel Yoshiro turned to me. “Your daughter’s vulnerability just dropped substantially.”

I nodded, smiling. The Speciality wasn’t the mecha suit I’d been privately hoping for, but it might end up even better in the long run. If Pointy could help guide her Summoned Transport into something more protective, and then also help pilot it?

Yeah, I liked the sound of that.

What I didn’t like was how upset Pointy was. The turtle was hiding it well, keeping her answers brisk and professional, but that very lack of emotion was telling. I had my suspicions about exactly why this perfect-sounding offering had distressed her, but I didn’t want to tear open that can of worms in front of so many spectators, and especially not in front of Cassie. Pointy deserved more consideration than that.

“Shall we hike to the next Siphon?” I suggested. “I can get my Specialty and Pointy can use the walk to consult with the system about any… questions… she has.”

“Yes,” Pointy said. “Please.”