Bad Beat - Chapter 08 - Bloom (Patreon)

Naturally, after inhaling the rest of the shortbread, Gabriel didn’t start cleaning up. Instead, he sank back into the battered couch and turned on the TV.

For now, he just wanted to forget about the entire event and pretend he hadn’t just been threatened by a hot goth girl, then made said girl share her secrets, and now committed himself to helping her avenge her murdered sister.

He stared at the screen as a laugh track echoed through the apartment.

‘Dear God,’ he thought, rubbing his face. ‘Could I be more cliché?’ he wondered.

The inane chatter of the TV show on the screen didn’t even register to him as the buzzing in his head drowned everything out.

The gun.

The shots.

The fact that he had been shot twice.

Even if there were no scars or pain left behind, he was still shot.

And he couldn’t do anything.

All in all, proof that his life had officially gone off the rails.

He finally gave up and submitted himself to the inevitable after kicking the same container for the third time on his way to the kitchen to refill his glass and snack bowl.

Changing the channel to something he could listen to with half an ear, he knuckled down and began cleaning up after Mia’s rampage.

Three hours later, he was exhausted but also glad that nothing had been broken.

Or stolen.

As he crawled into bed, ready to get some well-deserved sleep, he realized something.

They had no way of communicating…

‘Ehh, that’s tomorrow-me’s problem. For now… let’s sleep…’ he mused to himself as he burrowed deeper under the blanket. Despite the late summer nights, it still got a bit chilly.

The next morning, he woke up, stretched, padded to the bathroom, took care of his morning ablutions, then, as he stood in his now-restored kitchen, Gabriel realized he had no fresh bread.

“Damn it… what a shitty start to the day…” he mumbled before heading for the door.

Thankfully, the area had several small bakeries, one of them even across from his apartment building, so after a short trip – and an appropriate amount of chatting with the old lady behind the counter – he returned to the seventh floor while munching on a fresh bun.

Only to come across a peculiar sight.

Mia, in her gothic splendor, wearing the same type of black yoga pants, black bunny slippers, and a sweater with a skull on it, stood before his door, pounding on it with increasing irritation.

“Open it, you bastard!” she hissed, keeping her voice low.

Gabriel exhaled in relief. The last thing he wanted was his other neighbors seeing their supposed ‘affair’.

She kept knocking. Her foot, in her adorable black bunny slippers, tapped impatiently.

“Don’t you dare ignore me!”

Swallowing the last bite, he walked up to the girl and called out.

“Good morning!”

She whirled around with a look of surprise on her face.

For a moment, she just stared.

“What – no. Where were you?  She demanded. “I’ve been knocking for the last ten minutes.”

“Bakery.”

He reached into the bag and offered her a bun. “Bun?”

Mia stared at it.

Then at him.

Then she snatched it, tearing into it angrily.

They sat on his couch on opposite ends, the contents of his shopping trip spread out on an old tray between them.

Mia was skulking on her side, angrily tearing into the delicious bun.

“It’s good, huh?” he asked cheerfully. “Got it from the bakery across the street. The old lady is a bit chatty, but damn, can she bake…”

Even her swallow was angry.

“It’s pre-baked,” she spat condescendingly. “You can buy a dozen frozen for the same price you just paid.”

He held up a finger.

“Shhh. Let me have my dreams…”

“Ugh… Why did I think this was a good idea?”

Gabriel snorted.

“Because you shared too much information with me, and now you have to make sure I don’t go running around blabbing about it.”

She flinched as if struck by an arrow.

“You…you don’t have to be that blunt.”

“I believe in clear communication between people,” he replied, still cheerfully devouring his buns.

He looked down on the one he just bit into.

“Oh, strawberry jam! Nice…”

Twenty minutes later, the buns were polished off, the water drunk – he refused to consume those over-sugared juices or sodas – and they were staring at each other in an awkward silence.

Mia was the one who broke it with a roll of her eyes.

“Now what?”

Gabriel shrugged. “Dunno. It’s your revenge.”

“But… you… guh…I hate you,” she grumbled.

Gabriel decided to take pity on her.

“The first thing I need to know is if you still have those old laptops.”

“Why?”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. They are in a pile in my room. Completely useless.”

“Good. Bring them over later. I want to see if I can work some magic on them…”

She looked at him curiously but didn’t ask. Gabriel didn’t have the same problem.

“Next is your power.”

“What about it?” Mia asked defensively, leaning a little back and raising the hand that held the innocuous-looking watch, ready to act.

“If I’m planning to help you, I need to know what I’m working with,” he explained.

Though he couldn’t really deny that he was very curious about it. She was the first person he had met who had legitimate superpowers.

It was fascinating…

Mia looked afraid for a moment, her eyes darting around as if looking for an excuse to refuse, but Gabriel just continued to stare.

He was very aware of his own hypocrisy, as he definitely didn’t plan to share the details of his own power, but he felt she deserved a little payback after shooting him twice.

Even if the gun was set to stun.

Finally, after a moment of panic, she sagged into herself and began to talk.

“I call it Technology Transformation,” she began, idly transforming her watch into a sci-fi-looking gun and then back multiple times. “I can…take a piece of technology and attune to it, for lack of a better word. Then transform it.”

“And you made a stun gun with it?”

“Of course! I’m not about to shoot people…” she declared righteously.

They both valiantly ignored the fact that she did indeed shoot him several times.

“Even the Jackals?” he asked.

Mia scoffed.

“I’m not stupid. I know if I want to take revenge, I’ll have to do things… but making a gun that can actually kill changes things.”

“Oh? That sounded as if you were referring to something…”

Her eyes widened.

“Wait! You don’t know?”

“Evidently I don’t,” he replied. “Please enlighten me.”

Mia straightened her back and brought one of her legs under her as she began to explain.

“There is a… rule. Which is not really a rule, because nobody enforces it and not everybody follows it, but it is there.”

Gabriel listened intently. This was starting to sound pretty familiar.

His guest continued, heedless of his thoughts.

“It’s basically like Newton’s law. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.”

“Ah. If you bring a gun, the other side brings a gun. Like that?”

“Yeah, but not entirely,” she replied with a nod. “You also have to consider the authorities. They’re always trying to arrest as many ‘freelance’ supers as possible. If you’re found with lethal weapons, the punishment is much harsher.”

“Really?”

She nodded.

“Yeah, they can argue that your intent was to take a life, so you deserve a harsher sentence. I’ll send you a few cases so that you can read about them.”

“Fun. Still, thanks for the warning,” he said. “Any other unwritten rules?”

She tilted her head to the side, thinking.

“Pretty much the usual. If you go after someone’s family, expect disproportionate retaliation. Killing children – or worse – will bring the entire city down on your head. I’m sure you can figure out the rest…”

“Though I assume not everybody follows these rules.”

“Of course not. Enforcing them takes power. If you don’t have it, then everyone will walk all over you,” she declared with a vehement nod.

‘Alright, basically expect everybody to ignore the rules whenever convenient for them and cling to them when they need their protection. Fun times ahead…’ he mused.

“While that is fascinating, let’s get back to your power. Do you also have some kind of tech-savant knowledge to go with the transformation?”

“I wish,” she replied bitterly. “I get an intrinsic understanding of the item I transform, but anything beyond that is only what I learn on my own.”

“Better than nothing, I suppose.”

“Well, yeah, but when I transformed my laptop into a better laptop, I gained some really good programming knowledge. And I learned how to handle guns when I transformed the watch,” she explained.

“Ahh, that’s how you managed to influence Processware!” he exclaimed, and Mia nodded happily, proud of what she had accomplished.

Gabriel, however, had an idea.

“Does the base item influence the transformation?”

“What do you mean?”

“Does a cheap watch or an expensive watch transform into the same gun? Does a basic laptop grant you the same knowledge as a top-tier one?”

Mia stared at him for a moment before shaking her head. “I have no idea. Never really thought about it.”

“Well, that’s our first test.” Gabriel declared, leaning back on the couch with satisfaction.

She looked at him skeptically, but apparently decided to go along with him after a few seconds of thinking.

“Alright then, genius,” Mia said. “How do you want to test it? Based on how you live, I doubt you have the money to buy something expensive like that, and I definitely don’t.”

He leaned back slightly and just grinned.

“Do you have access to other companies around here?”

She frowned, trying to figure out where he was heading with that line of thought.

“I mean… a few, but why?”

Gabriel leaned forward.

“Can you arrange for a few things to get lost?”

Mia froze.

For a second, she just stared at him.

Then her eyes widened.

Then slowly a grin spread across her face.

An hour later, his cards held the remaining laptops – two dozen of them – after Mia dropped them off before rushing back to her room to start on their plan.

His suggestion had lit a fire under her.

Gabriel simply started fusing the laptops to conserve space in his deck and to prepare for the future. He ended up with 1 x Advanced Laptop (Wiped) and 1 x High-Quality Laptop (Wiped), filling two cards.

The rest of the day was spent preparing for the following week and looking up the things Mia mentioned.

He found the articles she had sent a bit too sensationalist – written by people clearly trying to incite specific emotions in people – but when he looked deeper, even looking up some public records, he concluded that they weren’t incorrect.

Supers with deadly weapons – and deadly powers – were disproportionately more likely to receive harsher sentences compared to supers with non-lethal powers.

Even if they killed people.

Their lawyers could argue it as accidental manslaughter instead of premeditated murder for those with deadly powers or weapons.

He didn’t even bother to look into the ratio of convictions in relation to skin color and ethnicity.

The picture was pretty clear.

It created an odd dance between the authorities and ‘freelance’ supers.

The supers tried to do whatever they were doing – robbing shops, patrolling neighborhoods, helping old ladies cross the street, kicking puppies, and so on – and the authorities and government-approved supers tried to catch them red-handed.

It didn’t matter if a super was a hero in the eyes of people.

As long as they were not on a list approved by the government – and by extension the corporations – the moment the police caught them doing anything illegal, even something as small as jaywalking in some cases, they were criminals in the eyes of the law.

And the eyes of the law were incredibly blind in the Los Angeles Megacity.

Corporate-sponsored heroes getting off with a slap on the wrist for crimes that others were thrown in the slammer for. Hell, some of their crimes were blatantly ignored.

For example, Hotshot, an eagle-themed hero with a sniper as a weapon, loved to peep on people.

And stalk them.

And hide outside their windows.

But despite the mountain of evidence, somehow every time he was spotted, it turned out he was on an assignment – tailing a suspect, getting into position for a strike, or just resting while tracking a criminal.

And he wasn’t the only one.

Just with a very cursory search – and a few links from Mia – he had found forums talking about the exploits of the heroes, and some villains, in very circumspect language.

Never directly naming names.

Never accusing them of anything.

It painted a very dark picture for Gabriel.

Frustration welled inside him as the knowledge settled in his brain, his improved memory preventing him from forgetting, while knowing fully well he could do nothing about it.

“Maybe later…” he murmured to himself as he took careful mental notes.

On Monday, he returned to work as if nothing had happened.

According to Mia, it would take a while to arrange for anything to happen.

She had found a company dealing with dropshipping and arranged a phantom delivery to a warehouse owned by Processware, where she had full access due to her previous work.

A bunch of laptops, phones, peripherals, and other electronics in big bales, all of them nothing more than a rounding error on the company’s account.

At least if what Mia said was true.

On Wednesday, he finally received a call from Mia just as he was walking back from work, one hand holding a shopping bag with a few things he needed, and a few additions for Mia.

“Hey!”

“Sup, dude! I’m finished. You got the stuff?” came from the other end.

“Yep. Got your yogurt and pads.”

“Thank god… those yogurts are impossible to get if you don’t know somebody at the store…”

“Well, I’m glad my position at Freshway is good for something…”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re cool, stockboy,” Mia replied sarcastically. “Now, get back fast, I’m craving dairy.”

“Coming, coming…”

**

**

A/N: Nothing could go wrong...I'm sure. :)