After making over a thousand suits of it, I knew Boar Armour like the back of my hand.
Six components. Helmet, bodyplate, bracers, greaves, boots and gauntlets. Thirty-eight kilos of fullersteel, one heavy and two medium power packs, eight smartphones, three video cameras, and a computing device, all woven together by the application of 2,250 MP. One thousand points of armour, a damage negation of thirty, and sixty kilos of carry capacity.
Putting on the suit felt familiar. Comforting.
Also, in case the meeting was indoors, the Boar Armour would actually fit. The rest of my suits weren’t really room-sized.
I called up my interface.
HP: 420/420
Armor: 1,000/1,000
PP: 4,150/4,150
MP: 5,822/5,822
CP: 3,360/3,360
AP: 2,800/2,800
PSYDEF: 165
Level 79
$ 11,372,486.00
XP: 8,640,972 / 11,500,000
Ethics: -3
The CP meter shimmered, a reminder of a part of my powers I had barely explored.
No. Tempting as it was to seize control of the Tanisport ultras’ minds, I had resolved to avoid that path for now. Not to mention that the only one of my abilities that would work on unwounded, unafraid opponents was Charm - and it’d leave visible purple streaks as it worked.
Though I could certainly hit them with a super-dose of Persuasion. That wasn’t mind control, it just - framed my words in the best possible light.
Paul had once asked me the difference between Persuasion and Control. As best as I could put it? Control changed the thought processes of others.
Persuasion changed the way I thought and spoke.
Using PP elevating my words to the most hard-hitting, effective form that they could possibly take. A superpower of oratory. It was why my speech - a speech delivered by an alien enemy, who’d slain their leaders - had been enough to trigger a war amongst the Raptors.
The behaviour of sentient beings is dictated by information and logic. Persuasion weaponizes this to its greatest extent, allowing its user to cherry pick exactly those talking points that will convince the listener.
Sometimes I’m not sure it’s a superpower. Lawyers and televangelists have been doing the exact same thing for years.
Today, it was my secret weapon.
I teleported to 16th Street at 10:43. Two minutes later, a message appeared on my phone, with the location.
The park just opposite Torrance Towers.
A memory came back to me - Anne and I, spying on the Grunters from the little cafe. Where we’d first come to know that Aldiss - or rather, fake Aldiss - was collaborating with the Grunters.
So much had changed in a year.
It was a kilometre away - easily reachable in fifteen minutes at a brisk walk. Naturally, I took the swifter route of travel-by-portal, emerging less than a hundred metres from the park.
A single green battlesuit - about eleven feet tall - stood at the park gate. Observe snapped into action.
DYZER
LEVEL 30
HP 5000 / 5000
“Belessar,” the ultra’s voice came over a loudspeaker. “The Tanisport ultras are a few minutes away. I’ve checked the location thoroughly and it’s secure.”
“Impressive suit.”
“Thank you. It is a new design, one that hasn’t been thoroughly tested; else I would have used it against the aliens. Sadly, when the call came I hadn’t had time to finish assembling a couple of components.”
“You got it shipped from - Europe? Just for this meeting?” I winced internally. “That must have been expensive.”
Dyzer shrugged. “I’ll be happy to send you the invoice.”
“... Am I getting charged for this?”
“This mediation is pro bono, Belessar. Consider it a way of paying you back for all you’ve done.”
<Nanocloud>: Did you do anything specific for Dyzer?
<Belessar>: I can’t remember. Maybe he has a relative in the city? Or in London?
“... And I believe the Tanisport ultras are here. Excuse me while I check on them.” Dyzer trudged away in his battlesuit.
I could see Lady Lumina and Viking entering through the gate opposite me. Soundwave trudged behind them, his armour sporting his trademark Sonic Cannon. Quintana brought up the rear, easily recognizable by the black-and-red eye pattern on her all-white suit.
Dyzer spoke, his voice amplified by the suit loudspeakers. “In the interest of ensuring that you have not brought any weapons or equipment which would vitiate the environment of these negotiations, I will be scanning you with a detection beam. Please give your consent.”
The ultras nodded. A blue beam swept out from Dyzer’s suit, seemingly scanning them. No obvious bells or alarms….
<Nanocloud>: Hang on - Dyzer didn’t say you’d be scanned.
<Belessar>: He said I could bring the armour that I wore in Liverpool. I assume he’ll factor that in.
<Nanocloud>: What if the beam finds something wrong with your gear?
<Belessar>: If he doesn’t like it, I simply walk away.
<Nanocloud>: And the negotiation?
<Belessar>: The alternative to a negotiated agreement is a PR and social media war. Which, at this point, I can live with.
<Nanocloud>: As long as it’s not an actual war…
--------------------------------------------------------------
With the scan done, the four ultras and Dyzer made their way towards me.
Dyzer was the first to speak. “Good day, everyone. As you know, there have been differences of opinion between the ultrahuman team led by Lady Lumina, and Belessar. This meeting aims to establish a common ground for discourse, and address some of the concerns raised by either parties, in the hope of building mutual trust. Please be open about your concerns, and we shall see what we can do to resolve them.”
“Concerns,” Lady Lumina said. “You could say I have several concerns. The first of them is, why hasn’t Belessar been scanned?”
“I have already interacted with Belessar, and don’t believe he has any intent to frustrate the proceedings.”
“Neither do we, yet you just put us all through a high-powered, intrusive scan. In the interest of fairness, Belessar should go through it too.”
Dyzer hesitated a moment, then turned to me. “Belessar, would you object to my scanning your suit?”
“What would you be scanning for?”
“NBC weaponry, mostly. I assume you’re not carrying those tank-killer warheads or anything deadlier.”
I chuckled. “Not today, Dyzer.”
“I should warn you that the scanner wave can interfere with some electronic systems. You may experience some momentary technical glitches - wait a few seconds and the automated calibration will take care of it. Can I trust you to stay still for the duration of the scan?”
“Fire away.”
“Thank you, Belessar.”
A blue light shone out from Dyzer’s suit - a shade deeper than before….
WARNING: MATERIAL STASIS FIELD APPLIED.
… What the hell was this?
CONDITION INFLICTED: FULLERSTEEL STASIS.
My suit froze.
One moment, I’d had a full range of movement - arms, legs, head, everything. The next…
I couldn’t move.
Not an inch. Not a fraction of a hair.
There was nothing wrong with my body. My suit, on the other hand…
The Boar Armour had frozen around me. Like concrete.
Armour harder than steel wrapped around me, locked in position.
Immobilizing me.
I tried to reach out to Anne.
WARNING: LEVEL 8 JAMMER FIELD ACTIVE.
BLOCKS EM, ACOUSTIC, GRAVITIC, LASER, OPTICAL FIBRE, THERMAL, RADIO AND FOLDSPACE TRANSMISSIONS. JAMS ALL BEYOND VISUAL RANGE SENSORS.
Nothing.
They were jamming me. Dyzer was jamming me.
But… why?
A trap.
My sensors still worked. Fortunately.
I was immobilized. But I wasn’t blind, or deaf.
On ‘dumb’, the jury was out for the moment.
So I could see and hear Lumina as she turned to Dyzer and asked, “Is it done?”
“He’s secured,” Dyzer replied.
Lumina nodded. “Soundwave, set up the video. Quintana, Viking - you know what to do.”
The two nodded. As Quintana faded into invisibility, Soundwave had produced an old-fasioned tripod-mounted camera and set it up. Lumina stepped in front of it and began to speak.
“People of Tanisport. My fellow Americans. Citizens of the world. You have all been told that Belessar is a hero, an inventor without peer, the saviour of London and of Tanisport. That is a lie.” She took a deep breath. “At considerable risk to ourselves, we have captured the individual who wears the suit known as Belessar. Today, we are going to show you the truth.
“What truth is this, you might ask? The truth is that the name of Belessar is a sham. A fake. A cover identity, worn by disposable operators as they twist noble intentions to a purpose that goes against the principles we all hold dear.
“For the man in this suit is not an ultra, but a soldier. One in a long line of deep state operatives who have impersonated a fictional, non-existent ultrahuman - and done so by copying or stealing the work of other inventors and scientists.
“Belessar’s missiles are a model used by the American military. His famous Lightning Hammer is a copy of that developed by Guduma-Daukar. And his armour? It is based on a material developed by another inventor - one which was secret, until the military got their hands on it.
“But if copying were their only crime, we would not be forced to take this extreme step. The identity of Belessar, however, is that of a saboteur. One who would twist the noble purposes of the Codices, turning ultrahumans into just another tool of the military - another weapon to fight human wars.
“This is why the deep state actors that back Belessar have persisted in putting operator after operator into these suits. Dressing up professional soldiers as inventors, sending them to lead armies of ultrahumans - and to integrate those ultrahumans into their existing militaries. As one more arm of oppression and domination. And the human cost of that? Swept aside, like the bodies of the twelve American citizens murdered by the same Agni who we today call a hero.
“The day before yesterday, Belessar claimed that he was a native Tanisporter. That he’d been a student at Everard - that the tragically killed teacher had once taught him.
“We have proof that these tales are lies. Photographs of Belessar before and after the Battle of London show a difference of seven inches - and despite their many achievements, ladies and gentlemen, inventors do not grow taller.
“The reality? The man who wore the suit at London is most likely dead, replaced by another. And did yet another replace the operator who died fighting the alien mega-mech? We don’t know.
“What we do know,” and Lumina stabbed her finger at me, “is that this man. Is NOT the man who I met at Tanisport, a year and a half ago, seeking only to do his best for the city.
“So today, we are going to expose this man as what he is - a liar. An impersonator. An agent of a corrupt government, seeking to twist the laws that protect us into a shield for their tyranny. And we shall do that - by unmasking him, here on live TV, where you can see the man for what he is.”
Lumina turned to me, unmasked hatred in her gaze. “Do you understand, mercenary?”