Built Different [Cyborg Superhero ProgFant]

Droja kept an eye on the wandering doctor as she circled me. I was seated now, hood down, balaclava and goggles off. The apparent robotics expert had brought out several devices to measure my head.

"I hope you'll do me the same disservice in return by allowing me to peruse all your life's work sometime, Doctor Jarl," she said dryly.

"Be my guest." He was hunched over, looking at the moving pistons of a small machine.

Droja just exhaled through her nose and looked down at me. "I assume there is another reason Kingston sent the doctor, other than to syphon ideas from my workshop?"

[Doctor Jarl is responsible for most of my cybernetics. He is an expert on my specific requirements.]

"Mhmm. He the one that gave you the metal ribcage?"

I shook my head. It hadn't been brought up, so she must have some manner of scanner in this workshop. Maybe the doorway itself had provided an x-ray or similar.

"Thought not. Doesn't seem like his handiwork. Look straight forward for me." She gestured to the wall opposite where I was sitting as she picked up a device from the table. "Not being able to take off your gasmask is a complication, but nothing we can't work around."

While I had been getting ready for this stage of whatever was happening, she had explained why she had to stay hidden away under Kingston's purview. While her activities didn't edge into war-crime territory, some of the robotics and associated technology she worked with were restricted for other reasons. Usually because they were contracted to specific League approved businesses only, or because there was a threat to the League's assets.

Whether that meant heroes or something else, she didn't elaborate.

Droja placed the device against the left side of my head. It was cold. Metallic. She moved it over the top to the right side. "Turn to your left." After a few moments, she adjusted the position. "Now to your right."

I did as she asked, looking whatever direction gave her easier access to measure my skull and gas mask with several different devices. Eventually, she placed the last one down and seemed content.

"Thank you. I had a feeling you'd be good at following directions."

[Do I come across as such a model League hero?]

"Hmm?" She raised an eyebrow. "I meant by having a strong woman order you around."

[Oh. Rockslide.]

Droja smirked as she brought out a data slate and started typing information onto it. "Relationships when one has super powers are complicated enough. I can't imagine both. You seem to be making it work, though."

[She has done nothing but support me in becoming a better person in whatever I do. Plus, we both know any fight we had would be one-sided.]

Her eyes moved from the slate briefly to glance at me. "The way you say that makes me think you believe you'd be the winner there. I don't really follow the day-to-day drama of the city, but I hope the League doesn't ruin what you two have."

I bit my figurative tongue before I could blurt out that I'd sooner ruin the League than allow that. Although the roboticist might have some disdain for the organization as a whole, sedition was a different matter entirely. Not everyone was so willing to accept violence as an answer to every problem.

[Is that what got in the way of you and Kingston?]

She pulled a face, and for a moment I didn't think she'd even answer me. After finishing her data input, she put the slate down and sat on the edge of the table. "Not exactly. Work became too much for us once he made it to Director. I was always in the workshop, and he was always in meetings. He called it off, and it was probably for the best." Droja gestured around the room. "This is all part of some guilty apology, no doubt."

[He obviously cares a lot to make sure you can pursue your passion.]

"I'd find a way, with or without him." Her expression cooled, and she nodded toward the doctor. "It looks as though some of us can get away with bending the rules here and there."

Jarl pretended to be too focused to overhear, but the sheepish look on his face was a giveaway that her point struck true. For the both of us, really.

[Did you know there's a power struggle going on at the League? Kingston is in the fray.]

"Shit." The electrician stepped away from the table. "There are always political games going on, but if you're in the know, then it's probably something serious."

[Help keep me alive, and I'll make sure he comes out on top.]

Droja regarded me for a moment, reading me. "Pretty confident for being green behind the ears." She shook her head and moved away to some of the shelving. "I can see how you bagged Rockslide. Nice eyes too. Hey, come over here and make yourself useful, Doc."

To most people, I probably was this unknown, new hero. It was unlikely my history of being in a government kill-squad or a hired hitman would become known to the public. Unless, of course, someone who didn't like me found out and tried to ruin my reputation. With Kingston in a battle of control within the League, that could be a very real possibility if he lost. It was to all of our benefit if he stayed in power.

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I sat in silent contemplation while Droja and Jarl discussed various things over by a heap of technology. Now, in addition to my runic magic and custom cybernetics, I'd have extra defense from one of the best roboticists in the city. I was rather lucky in the grand scheme of things.

Eventually, the pair walked over to me. Droja had what looked like a thick metal collar in her hands - which was only briefly concerning.

"The measurements were important and extensive, as if I have configured this incorrectly, then it could tear the skin off of your skull." The woman maintained a neutral, matter-of-fact expression.

[I'm keen on that not happening.]

"Good. As am I, although Jarl has reassured me that he would be able to apply similar cybernetic skin as your neck to cover you up before you died." She gave the doctor a dry smile.

Fantastic. I knew at least one person that would be livid if I had cyberskin instead of a full head of hair—aside from myself—but at least I'd survive it.

[Just tell me what I need to do.]

Jarl picked up my goggles and balaclava. "You'll need these on for the full effect."

With his help, I put both on, but left my hood down. The roboticist then walked around behind me and placed the collar around my neck. It was a comfortable fit, and I was surprised to not notice the weight of it after the ends connected into the sides of my gas mask. After ensuring it was snug in place resting against the back of my neck, she returned to the front.

"It is currently button controlled, but assuming this doesn't crush your head like a rotten fruit, then the kind doctor will hook it up to your synapse controls." Droja held out a small device with a button on it.

I took it and raised an eyebrow. A force-field generator, maybe? I tried to sit nice and straight - exactly like when she had taken the measurements. She gave me a nod, and I pressed the button.

The next second was a whir of sudden pressure around my head. My muscles tensed up, but otherwise I didn't move an inch.

"Good news, you still have your scalp." Droja smiled and tilted her head.

I raised my hand and tapped at the side of my head. Metal. My eyes went to the doctor as he brought over a mirror. I nodded at the reflection, surprised.

A full helmet now covered any part of my head that wasn't goggles or mask. Thin, segmented panels had extended out, clipping into place around my head. A dark metal, very sleek in appearance. I pulled my hood up and over, and I looked just the same as I ever did.

[This is bulletproof?]

"To a certain degree." Droja shrugged. "In the arms race between munitions and armor, the former is usually ahead by a step or two. Small caliber ammunition will deflect from the surface via energy dispersal. High caliber will damage the shell but won't enter your skull. Anything worse than that and you're fucked, no matter what protection you have."

[Not invincible, but above the normal playing field.]

"Plus the force-field I'll be giving you." She crossed her arms. "It's more than Kingston specified, but if you can keep that shrewd asshole in power, then I'll go that extra mile."

[Plus I can come to you for repairs anytime?]

"Fuck you." She shook her head and sighed. "Trying to take advantage of the fact that I have zero social life?"

"Gunquake has a way of drawing people to him," Jarl interjected. "An experienced roboticist and mechanic would certainly be an invaluable addition to our loose collective."

Droja rolled her tongue across her teeth before grunting. "I'll consider it, but don't get your hopes up. Let me get the rest of your equipment together so that you can stop darkening my doorstep."

As the woman moved off, grumbling to herself, the doctor stepped up to me.

With a smile, he nodded in her direction. "Kingston knew what he was doing sending us here."

[More than just getting me protection, you mean?]

"You don't get to be a Director for so long without a certain way of thinking."

If Kingston asked Droja to help him win his political battle himself, he knew she'd throw cold water at the idea immediately. We were a sly weapon being used to coerce her into the battle way above our pay grades. Whether we knew or accepted it, we were essentially the Director's private militia at this point. Every concession and helping hand offered along this journey had been so that we were primed to assist him maintain power within the League.

I had become a potent ally-making machine, so getting me this help under the table was meant to feel like a favor he was affording us… but we were just running a mission to gain him a few more advantages politically.

Fortunately for him, it helped me too - so I was willing to play my part. Perhaps he knew we were smart enough to work that out, but would go ahead anyway. I didn't much care for politics or mind games, but Kingston had been pivotal in me becoming a relatively rounded person, even if only for his benefit.

Droja returned with a metal disc that resembled the temporary force-field I had once used. "I won't bore you with the mathematics behind it," she began, "but you can absorb two handgun shots per minute with this while maintaining charge. Anything more and it will shut off for two minutes as it recharges. Overload it and it will take ten minutes to come back online."

[That is… probably going to save my life several times. Thank you.]

"The favor to Kingston was to reduce the chance of you dying to a bullet, so I can now consider this something I can wash my hands of." She pulled a face. "For another year, anyway. Oh - I'd turn the helmet off whenever you're somewhere safe, as otherwise you will overheat. Can I have some way of contacting you should you have any questions about it?"

Perhaps a good thing I had no mouth, as I wouldn't have been able to hide my smile at seeing through her transparent request. I nodded and gave her a way to message me. After clicking the button, the panels hummed before retracting into the collar shape. A slower process than when they formed, but that seemed to be by design.

[Can I trust you to be backing me in the Heroism Arena?]

She raised an eyebrow as I stood and took the force-field device from her. "Oh, you're involved in that circus? You seem to have a functioning brain, so I'll hope you have more experience than your current tenure provides."

[I know a thing or two.]

"Excellent. I hope to see you win, then."

Droja led us out of the basement and up to the main workshop. After some brief goodbyes, she left us out on the sidewalk. I sighed to myself and looked over at the Meteor.

[Can I give you a ride back to your place?]

"Actually, no." Doctor Jarl smiled and nodded politely. "I have a few errands to run in the opposite direction, but I'll message you later about getting your helmet synced to your synapses."

[As you wish. I'll go and see if Belle is ready for our mission. I appreciate you helping me this morning.]

"Think nothing of it, Gunquake. A browse of the workshop was more than sufficient payment." He smiled and waved as he strolled away. "Until later."

I nodded and watch him go. He crossed the road before heading down a side road. I looked over at my vehicle, before turning more toward the alley a little further down.

A familiar homeless man stood in the opening, smiling my way.

I had the time for one more detour, sure.