83: R&D

It had been two loops since Ryan last met Vulcan in the flesh. The sight of her mech descending from above filled him with nostalgia, and longing.

Ryan stood in front of the bunker’s entrance, as Vulcan landed her vehicle atop a pile of trash. She climbed out of her metal suit, stood atop it like a pintsized conqueror, and smirked. “I love what you’ve done with the place,” she told Ryan, after giving a cursory glance at the Junkyard.

Mechron’s mech guarded the entrance while surrounded by burning helicopters; all of them bearing Dynamis’ logo. And yet, Ryan didn’t pay much attention to them. He only had eyes for this fierce woman, who once saved him from Hannifat Lecter at this very spot. His heart had beat for her then, and it still did so today.

“What’s wrong?” Vulcan asked, amused. “Have you fallen for me at first sight?”

“Even if I disappear…” she had said, all but pleading. “Promise you won’t forget me.”

It hurt just like the first day.

“Something like that,” the courier lied, before making a mock reverence to hide his saddened gaze. “Welcome to my humble abode, Miss Sharif. You didn’t have any problem bypassing the blockade?”

“I designed Dynamis’ anti-aerial weapons.” Vulcan shrugged, as she climbed down from her mech to join him. “They’re far too slow for me. So are your defenses, for that matter.”

“Try me!” Vulcan’s head snapped at Mechron’s scorpion mech, as a cheerful voice came out of it. “Fastest toaster in the west!”

Vulcan studied the mech with renewed interest. “I thought Mechron made sure his slave AIs couldn’t talk back?”

“We uploaded a new personality matrix worthy of this mighty machine,” Ryan explained, tapping one of the mech’s legs. “One perfect for the job.”

“I’m a toaster, I burn stuff,” the mech replied. “I’m pretty one-dimensional in what I want.”

It was the best kind of minion. The one that loved its dirty work.

With the Land dealing with any intruders on the ground with quakes, and Toasty bombarding any flyer, the Private Security’s haphazardous attempts at raiding Rust Town had failed miserably. Eventually, they simply decided to besiege the district. A ring of tanks and soldiers prevented anyone from moving in or out, and warships blockaded the harbor; in theory, nothing short of a teleporter would allow the Meta-Gang to escape.

A pity Dynamis didn’t know about the bunker’s underwater access. Ryan had carefully edited it out of the plans he sent to Nora, in case she connected the dots. Dynamis would devote all its resources to besieging Rust Town, leaving their HQ vulnerable to a sneak attack.

The fear of Ryan’s A-bombs would keep the megacorporation from attempting anything drastic, but only for a short while. Eventually, they would figure out a way to neutralize his weaponry, but by then it would be too late.

“Still, I’m surprised you showed up,” Ryan admitted, as he invited Vulcan inside the bunker. “Associating with us won’t be good for your reputation.”

“A deal is a deal,” the Genius replied with a smirk. “And a man humiliating that bitch Wyvern in front of the entire city is a man after my own heart.”

“If I don’t make it, go to Laura. Because she’s so fucking perfect!”

And it took New Rome’s destruction for them to bury the hatchet.

“Perhaps I can make the deal even sweeter?” Ryan raised his hat, and drew an A-bomb from it.

Vulcan raised an eyebrow at the courier, but accepted the gift gracefully. The happy face she made whenever he offered her this bomb delighted Ryan. “Are you trying to bribe me?”

“Yes,” the president replied, knowing she would love it. “Is it working?”

“I dunno,” she answered with a laugh, playing with the beautiful metal ball. “Mine are bigger than yours.”

“You haven’t seen my full arsenal,” Ryan replied, unable to resist. “I polish it every day.”

Vulcan smirked coyly. “I only believe what I see.”

Damn it.

Ryan could tell that if he put on the charm, Vulcan would fall for him again. They shared a natural, playful chemistry, the same love of big bombs and innuendos. Holding her in his arms and kissing her would feel like going home to his wife, after a long trip. It would feel just right.

“Don’t replace me with another Jasmine.”

And yet, Ryan had made a promise to Jasmine, his Jasmine, and would abide by her wish. Even if no one would hold the courier responsible if he broke his promise… he respected his old girlfriend enough not to betray her last request.

If only he had completed the brain-transfer machine before… before that cursed loop.

“Make sure this disaster never happens again, okay? Kill that fatass.”

At least he followed through with that promise.

Ryan led his ex-girlfriend down into the corridors overseeing the bunker’s hangars. Vulcan stopped at the repaired glass windows, observing the submarine and the tech gathered here. “A full Mechron base, right below our feet,” she whistled, as Ryan gave her a tour of the facility. “You really hit the jackpot.”

“We even have a matter replicator,” Ryan pitched her the benefits of her new workplace. “You just put in the design and the necessary material, and bam! Instant weapon!”

“And what weapon do you want from me exactly?” she asked, putting a hand on her waist. “Because I doubt you contacted me to build a teddy bear.”

“You underestimate their power. They lure you into a false sense of security, and then they hug you into submission.”

“Is that your plan to take over the city? Trade the nuclear bombs for teddy bears?”

Ryan had to keep her away while she worked, or he wouldn’t resist. The more Vulcan spoke, the more her wit pulled him in. “Well, if you want to know, we’ve figured out how Mechron enhanced his henchmen’s powers.”

Alchemo had finally overcome most of the mainframe’s remaining firewalls, giving the group access to Mechron’s key files. This immediately caught Vulcan’s full interest. “Go on,” she asked.

“I’ll share the data, but long story short, Mechron found ways to streamline the Flux energy a Genome radiates with biomechanical implants. The underlying theory is the same as with your power armors.”

Much like Dynamis’, Mechron’s Knockoffs were synthetic lifeforms mimicking the properties of genuine Elixirs. Though they weren’t sentient unlike Darkling or genuine Elixirs, they could modify genes based on data gathered from true Genomes.

However, the mad Genius had gone a step farther than the Manadas. Though they lacked an innate connection to the color dimensions, his Knockoffs could create microscopic portals to them with sufficient mechanical support. By channeling the Flux energy it generated and using data gathered from an existing Genome, Mechron’s machines could crudely imitate the template’s power.

The telekinetic mech Ryan fought in the bunker was only one example. By the end of his life, Mechron had started experimenting with biomechanical warbeasts capable of great destruction. His artificial Elixirs needed a lot more technical support to function than the originals… but they worked.

Ryan shuddered at what Mechron could have achieved, had the madman lived a few more years. If he had perfected his Elixirs and outfitted his robots with superpowers, he would have become unstoppable.

Still, these Knockoffs were pale imitations of true Elixirs, and far less efficient. So Mechrons’ AIs had gone further, which led to Darkling.

“You want me to create a suit of power armor,” Vulcan guessed, grinning with excitement. “Something that can supercharge your power.”

“Yes, with a cashmere poncho over it.” By combining data from both sources and the bunker’s advanced technology, Ryan knew his favored spitfire could create a magnum opus. The design would also incorporate Len’s signal tech, hopefully allowing the courier to send multiple people back in time.

However, he would need Len’s help for it, and his best friend still refused to leave her room.

“Up for it?” Ryan asked, once they reached the recreation area. Sarin, Acid Rain, Mosquito, and a few others had gathered in front of a TV post put on the bar counter, watching the news.

“Like the day I was born.”

“Do or don’t. There is no try.”

Those had been Jasmine’s last words, and they summed her up perfectly. She always gave it her all.

“Hey, Boss!” Sarin called him. “They’re going to talk about us!”

“Finally!” Ryan rejoiced, as he and Vulcan approached the TV screen. Obviously, Hector Manada denied everything and tried a silent campaign, enforcing a newsban to cover up Ryan’s revelations. But the damage had been done, and people talked.

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It seemed that Dynamis had finally decided to address the elephant in the room through a press conference. Il Migliore’s full line-up had gathered at the Optimates Tower’s entrance, accompanied by Enrique ‘Blackthorn‘ Manada and PR specialists. Of course, Wardrobe always dressed chic, a pillar of culture among fashion disasters. Felix’s claw marks had healed, but he didn’t bother to hide his frustration. As for Wyvern, her face was utterly blank and lifeless.

Ryan glanced at the news ticker, each information worse than the last. ‘Unexplained explosions continue, children still missing after daycare attack; the Private Security refused to comme—’

The plushies kept causing more incidents across town. Tensions were at an all-time high, Dynamis was stretched thin, and people demanded answers.

Vulcan snickered, as Blackthorn invited Wyvern to take place on a stage and face an army of journalists. “More dog than dragon.”

“She isn’t corrupt,” Ryan said, “just naive.”

Vulcan frowned at him in response. “Who told you that crap?”

Jasmine.

Which only highlighted how much she had changed as a person by the end. Jasmine had been willing to give up her grudge, but Vulcan wouldn’t move on by herself. Not without help.

Ryan listened silently as Wyvern addressed the crowd and all of New Rome. She of course condemned the Meta-Gang’s ‘terrorist threat’, promised retribution she couldn’t deliver, said everything was under control, blahblahblah…

“Many of you have wondered if the images shown on this so-called Mr. President’s video were genuine,” Wyvern said, her expression stoic and professional. “Or if his accusations about the dangers of Knockoff Elixirs were founded.”

The courier braced himself for impact.

“They are.”