Taylor gazed at him as he sat there, considering throwing her out of his office if she was correct in her guess about facial expressions. "You know what? Fine. But I have to tell you that if this kills me, makes me wish it killed me, or Masters me, you won't make it out of the building before the Protectorate shows up. A junior associate is watching this meeting from the next room on CCTV, and if she sees something like that, she has a button she is supposed to press. These precautions are necessary when starting a relationship with potential supervillains."
As he cleaned that side of his face with the makeup remover towelette, Taylor said, "Like I said, I'm not a supervillain, but I understand that you have contingencies when meeting with any parahuman."
He sighed and unscrewed the top of the round container, and peered at the white cream within. It really did look like a cosmetic, and that was intentional on Taylor's part as she felt it was likely that she could sell it as one. The regenerative aspects of this treatment would remove wrinkles permanently, after all. He stuck his finger in, getting a generous amount of the cream on it and carefully smeared it across the scar that ran across almost the entire length of his cheek.
In Taylor's expert opinion, it was a burn scar and an unusual one, as if someone had a superheated finger and casually swiped it across his cheek. That might, in fact, be what happened, given his experience with supervillains.
After he put it on, using a mirror hanging on the wall to make sure it covered everything, he asked, "Like this?"
She nodded, "I do have to warn you that it is quite painful when it starts taking effect, but the pain should pass within fifteen seconds. I'm still working on a method to include a useful local anaesthetic, but it is kind of difficult when the new tissue forcefully integrates itself with the nervous system."
His mouth hung open in shock, and then he said, "Wait... what?" Then he groaned, closing his eyes tightly as she could see the cream repairing the scar on his face in real-time. She had been expecting a girlish shriek from this man, which was why she warned him so that his associate watching wouldn't freak out and press whatever button that might or might not summon Protectorate heroes. But she supposed you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, and this man definitely had an inner strength to him.
Finally, he opened his eyes and stared daggers at her, his voice as cold as ice, "You could have warned me of that ahead of time, you bitch. That was exceptionally painful."
"I tried that with my dad, but it caused him to be exceptionally resistant to using it," she told him reasonably. He still glared at her for a moment before he glanced at the mirror. None of the cream remained, and neither did his scar. All the cream absorbed into his skin, and when regeneration wasn't necessary, it would just act as a moisturiser.
He ignored my attempt at an excuse and just glanced at the mirror, looking surprised. She slid a small cosmetic compact across the table, which caused him to blink before he recognised it. Grabbing it, he opened it to use the mirror to get a better look at his face, "This is amazing. I agree to take you on as a client. You don't even have to give me the symbolic cash payment, this is definitely something of value, and I take it in lieu of your first retainer payment. Now that we're attorney and client, please tell me as much as you can about how your power works, and what you have concerns about. What is this made of anyway? Why did my face hurt like hell and my finger only tingled?"
She nodded, satisfied. "Humanised and modified tissue from a gecko, amongst other things." She was about to start explaining her power, at least as much as she planned to disclose, but he interrupted her, looking slightly upset.
"Wait, you ground up a poor gecko to make this stuff?" he asked, dismayed.
She blinked at him several times but didn't judge him. It was weird when a person's sentimentalities would show up. She got the impression he wouldn't care at all if she admitted to murder but was upset at a gecko. She asked, "Would it make you feel better if you knew it was already very old, had lived a long life, was terminally ill and felt no pain?" She actually just pulled a tail off. She didn't need to use a lot of tissue for this cream.
The gecko itself survived to grow another one, even if it was furiously angry at her for the affront, but she felt like messing with him now. She coughed delicately into her hand, "I intend to use clone tissue in the future, but I don't quite have the laboratory I wished I had. That is one of the reasons I am here."
After that, she explained, in broad strokes, most of her power, emphasising that, yes, she was a bio-tinker but also the best physician on the planet. Also, how she wanted to leverage this not only to make money but to stay out of the Birdcage and, on the good side, as much as possible with the authorities.
He looked intrigued, but asked, "Can you create anything self-replicating?"
She nodded, "Yes, of course. But I am capable of lying convincingly if it is better that I am not capable of that." Although her deck and OS weren't the best, she had performed upgrades on it, and it came with a lot of software. Software that allows one to lie fairly convincingly was pretty common in the corporate world, where pretty much everything anyone said was run through machine learning veracity software. Hers would generally fool real people and would definitely fool any kind of machine-based system if one existed.
"It would definitely be better if you were not capable of that; however... could anyone ever find out that you were lying through other methods?" he asked.
She thought about that for a moment before nodding, "Yes, probably. Through two methods." When he asked what methods, she hummed and said, "An expert in genetics and virology interviewing me would instantly realise I have enough expertise to create novel pathogenic viruses in the traditional manner, not really using Tinkertech at all. Second, some Thinkers might be able to figure the same out, especially if they have a precognition-type power."
He didn't catch what she had said there, or at least why it might be possibly indicative of something dangerous. She intended to have contingencies, both for situations where she was kidnapped in her civilian guise as well as if the government enacted a kill order on her even though she hadn't done anything yet.
The first contingency wouldn't have that large of a body count, but the second one would. She didn't want to hurt anyone at all, but when precognition was a bitch. If you had something that amounted to strategic deterrence, the only way it would deter the government, who had access to many, many Thinkers, was if you were willing to use it. So, while she didn't have any insanely pathogenic viruses created yet, she would have them in the future, as insurance.
"People in power will eventually realise that you can do this, then. So lying would be suboptimal. A lot about a parahuman is based on their trustworthiness. So, that means that there is a very good chance the authorities will eventually get a pre-signed kill order for you, same as Blasto. The only way to avoid that is joining the Protectorate itself," he told her musingly, "We're not really a PR firm, you realise. It sounds like you want our assistance in as much a PR aspect as a legal one."
She shrugged, ignoring the fact that he assumed she was of age. She was already one-hundred-and-seventy-seven centimetres tall, and she picked the features of her disguise to give the impression of an adult in their early twenties, too. "That's fine, so long as they're not tempted to enact it when I haven't done anything to warrant it. We will emphasise my proficiency as a doctor rather than as a bio-tinker, I think. By the time my expertise in the latter becomes well known, I intend to have a very positive reputation. I also want your help in acquiring funds to expand my research." That was one of the main reasons she was here. She didn't know how to sell things like the cream she made, or her clinical services, without making a mess of it.
He glanced down at the container of cream he had used as if he was reading her mind and nodded, "Yes, I think you should not mention your bio-tinker abilities at all to the public. You'll likely have to tell the PRT, though, but you can be vague. In fact, you shouldn't ever use that phrase. Medical tinker, that sounds better if you're pushed, as it seems to imply what you can build are only medical tools to help you as a doctor. What can you treat or cure?"
"Pretty much anything except the destruction of the brain. Some treatments I might not be able to do because I don't have the funds to acquire the materials necessary to construct the medical equipment I need to carry them out, though," she said confidently.
He nodded, "There are a lot of people who wish that Panacea charged a fee. Not only does she not charge, but she only generally sees very acute cases. People that are seriously ill but not actively dying she doesn't generally have the time to see. Plus, she is completely useless about illnesses in the brain. There are a lot of those types of people that have a lot of money." He paused and asked, "Cancer?"
"I could do most types of cancer right now, but a really complicated case where it metastasised all throughout the body might need to wait until I can get a lot of equipment I need," she told him, "I also intend to volunteer for the next Endbringer attack, as a medical specialist. So, I'm not sure what I need to do to get certified by the PRT to provide medical treatment."
He looked askance that anyone would volunteer for that, but then paused and nodded, "That's actually a good idea, now that I think about it. Especially if you're not going to join the Protectorate. It will definitely help your reputation. There is a process that is involved in power testing, and it is one I already helped a couple of parahumans go through. Uber can be an excellent doctor or surgeon using his Thinker power, and I helped him get credentialed. Then later Victor found out, and I helped him as well."
Taylor pursed her lips, "You helped the Empire capes?"
He shrugged, "Their money spends just like anyone else's does." She was right; he would have made an excellent Corpo in Night City. He continued, "But the important part is I already know how to accomplish this, and should be able to do so pretty rapidly, which is important. You'll need to do it soon if you intend to go to the Endbringer fight. The last one was two months ago, so the next will probably be in March or late February. Hopefully, far away from here." He knocked on the wooden table for emphasis.
He smiled, "At the same time, how fast can you make some more of this cream? Hopefully, without murdering any geckos."
"Oh, not too long, I suppose. Did I tell you that it removes wrinkles? Forever?" she asked him, smiling.
He just grinned, "We just need to discuss the most important part, then... my fee."
Taylor was glad that she didn't just find a criminal lawyer, but a criminal lawyer.
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Keep on rollin'
My "merc outfit" was already on its third iteration. The first was little more than casual but dourly-coloured clothes and a ballistic vest. My current one was much different. It was based on a netrunner suit that I had purchased from a supplier of such things, with as much ballistic protection as could be included in such a suit. I didn't include my own modifications to it, though, as I had a biomonitor and a second heart; moreover, the "second heart" functionality was completely disconnected and air-gapped from my operating system and couldn't realistically be disabled even if my entire system was compromised.
I selected such a suit because it was a full-coverage piece of armour that did not constrain my movements. A secondary benefit was that it did have a built-in cooling system. My thermoptical stealth system did have a set of heatsinks underneath my skin, and if I were naked, it would work pretty well. However, the main reason to wear clothes, besides modesty, was because they trapped heat inside. To get the full benefit of the infrared stealth features, I would have to turn that part of the system on for several minutes before activating the light-bending field.
However, the cooling suit was designed to cool an overheated netrunner rapidly, so it would drop the exterior temperature of the suit in less than thirty seconds to close to room temperature, assuming a normal temperature differential inside a building. I was just out of luck if I wanted to sneak around in a snow drift, though.
Normally netrunner suits just vented out the excess heat, so I had to pay extra to get one built with an internal heatsink made out of some sort of space-age super-high temperature tolerant gel. It was insulated in a little oval blister on my back, so it shouldn't emit any infrared itself. Really, now it was more of a stealth suit than a netrunner suit, and when I mentioned that to the lady who made it, she got a thoughtful expression on her face. Perhaps she was going to break into a new market now?
The only downside was it was form-fitting, and I meant very form-fitting. I solved this issue partly by wearing my normal ballistic vest over it; it covered my breasts and stomach area, although now it would take a little longer to cool due to the heat trapped between the vest and suit! Still, the suit did a lot better job than the heatsinks included in my implant, so it was still overall a good choice. I could still drop to an externally visible eighteen degrees or so within thirty seconds, even with the vest.
I tried wearing a pair of shorts over the suit, but it looked very stupid. What I settled on was a sort of belt that carried a lot of my immediately useful supplies and extra ammunition. It made me feel kind of like a superheroine, and attached to that belt was an armoured skirt in the same colour as the netrunner suit, which was mainly for my modesty. I had the same woman make it after telling her about my concerns. It didn't look like a normal skirt, as it was made up of individual armoured strips, which made it a lot easier to move in.
The woman called it a pteruges, which I had to look up. She thought it was preem, though. Honestly, all I needed was a domino mask, and I would have fit in with the cape scene back in the Bay wearing this, so I privately quite liked it too.
I got a number of glances standing in the garage, heavily armed, in my get-up, carrying quite a lot of gear, mostly medical, in two large bags. But I guess I didn't look like one to fuck with, so a couple of homeless, almost Scav-like guys that were eyeing me moseyed on down, ignoring me. It might have been my cool outfit or the fact that I was casually carrying a submachine gun in my free hand. Who knew?
