Acadian: The Gadget Cave is a fun setting. I have a closet like that with old computer parts. I imagine that closet on steroids to get the Gadget Cave.
I couldn't resist a nod to Blackwater when it came to creating an amoral mercenary corporation.
When it comes to January's attitude toward the use of force, I am reminded of Superman. Imagine if he ever lost his temper? That would be a bad day for the planet. I think controlling your temper would be one of the hardest parts of being a super. I imagine the ones who go Black Hat tend to be the type who can't control their anger and frustrations, and end up killing people by accident. Then they are wanted for murder, and trapped in the life.
Gadget is a solid friend. In many ways he is the epitome of cool. Though we will eventually see that his life is not all that it is cracked up to be either.
Book 1.5 - Stormcrow Rising"Now enough with the existentialism," Gadget said as she finally pulled away. "The first battle is over, and the game is afoot. It's time we plot our next move."
"Our next move?" January wondered aloud. "Shouldn't we..."
She let the words die on her lips. Let the authorities handle it? She had learned what good they were when she was expelled for fighting back against the bullies in school. When she wasn't even allowed to use the bathroom, like all the other kids. Gadget was right. They had these abilities. They had to use them.
"First things first," January reached down into one of the pouches on her utility belt, and pulled out her convention badge. It had the image of a trio of identical dragons. They stood in a circle, and all pointed accusing fingers at one another. In the blank space beneath she had written 'She/Her' in a sharpie, rather than her actual name. She had written it there as a joke. But now it might have turned out to be providential. "Did we leave a trail behind us?
"Good call btw, being clever instead of using your real name." Gadget nodded. He set off in flurry of typing. "But I can whittle down those odds a bit more. There, neither you nor I were ever registered with the convention. So at least there's no paper trail leading to either of us."
She rose to her feet, and walked over to his computer station. "I hope that is good enough," she frowned. "I don't want to end up like Hailstorm."
"No one wants to end up like Hailstorm," Gadget breathed. "Here, I just set up a bot to continually search for any instances of your name being used in conjunction with Stormcrow. That will give me a heads up if anything does leak."
January nodded. This superhero business was new to her. But it was certainly not new to the world. Ever since Grognard and the Red Baron had fought in World War I, metas had been front page news. Their identities had always been carefully hidden secrets, for good reason. After what had happened to Hailstorm…
"What do we know about this Lighthammer?" She pulled her mind from ancient history to current events. "He had lasers, but they didn't burn like I thought a laser is supposed to. It was like he was hitting me with a truck. Like... well... a hammer."
"It's solid light." Gadget slid back across the room to his computers. "It was just theoretical. But with metas, theory becomes reality every day. He can project it from his hands. He can use it to fly. He can even form small force fields with it."
"Now it's all making more sense," January nodded. "His gauntlets had these little emitters in them. Or maybe that's not the right word. Maybe they're focusers. They're filled with diamonds. I think he sends his light through them, and it amps his powers."
"So that is why he would want to steal more," Gadget breathed. "It's not for the money. It's more power. He could put them in his boots to fly better, or in his arms to make stronger shields."
"So what do we know about him?" January asked. "You knew his name right off. I've never heard of him."
"He's a Gray Hat," Gadget said. He brought up a series of pictures and articles about Lighthammer on his screens. "He hasn't been around for long. He fights bad guys: smugglers, drug-dealers, even a few Black Hats. He's not picky about whether they die or not, and takes their money to finance himself. Not shy about fighting cops either, though he hasn't killed any of them. He seems to try to avoid hurting civvies though. That makes it kind of strange that he would try to shoot those people at the end of your fight."
"He was never going to hurt them," January shook her head. "The shots he fired at them were so underpowered they wouldn't have ruffled their hair. I guess that was just in case I didn't jump in front of the shot. He played me. He wanted me standing in exactly that spot, because he knew he could drop the ceiling on me there, and only on me."
January could feel the color rising in her cheeks. Fighting was not just throwing punches. It was moves and countermoves. It was playing to your strengths, concealing your weaknesses, exposing your enemy's, and exploiting them. It was like chess, just with sweat and bruises. That had been check and mate. He had completely outplayed her.
"Don't beat yourself up about it," Gadget never took his eyes from his screen. "He's been doing this longer than you have."
Gadget was right, Lighthammer had already done the beating up. Now that the fight was long over, whatever it was that gave January strength and some measure of invulnerability was gone. She ached where those bolts of hard light had struck her. But it did not really bother her much either. She had felt worse after her first serious gymnastics workout.
"He said something about blood on the diamonds," January reflected. "I was too caught up in the fighting at the time. But now I wonder if he meant something else?"
"As in blood diamonds?" Gadget murmured. He pulled the diamond trader back up again, and began opening window after window about the old man. It all flew by so fast that January could not keep up with all the information spilling across the screens. But somehow Gadget seemed to absorb it all like a digital sponge.
"According to the airlines, he's been taking regular flights between the Central African Republic, Antwerp, Surat, and a whole bunch of US cities - Detroit, Philly, Pittsburgh, Chicago, St. Louis, and others."
"Surat?" January asked.
"It's in India." Gadget brought it up on Googol, and both images and articles on the city filled one screen after the other. "Large city on the Tapi River. Commercial center for textiles. Ooh, they have a fancy new cable-stayed bridge too, very chic. Oh wait, here we go. Ninety percent of the world's diamonds are polished in the city."
"I thought the diamond trade was all Jewish?" January scratched her head.
"Well, according to this article not anymore," Gadget's fingers flew and more text scrolled past his screens. "The Indians took it over a few years back. They have big extended families that do all the work cheaper. So they send the rough diamonds to them in Surat for processing. Then they sell them on the international market. The main offices are still in Antwerp. This one Mahta bigshot is a Baron in Belgium!"
"Sounds like a bad rap song," January murmured. "Bigshot Baron of Belgium..."
"Metro Boomin could put the beats behind that to make it a masterpiece..." Gadget laughed.
"So let me guess, the Central African Republic has a problem with conflict diamonds?" January became serious again.
"Oh snap does it..." Gadget sighed as he looked from one screen to another. Between the text were pictures of warlords, child-soldiers, and all-too thin people toiling under the watchful gaze of armed men. "One of the poorest countries in the world, civil war, ethnic cleansing, and diamonds. As you can guess, the diamonds don't make things better. They just make all the horror profitable."
"So he buys blood diamonds in Africa, takes them back to his family in India for polishing, then brings them here to sell." January frowned. She had fought for this man. She had risked her life for him. "Lighthammer had been in the right all along. I was the bad guy."
"No," Avery said firmly. "Busting into a hotel room, beating the crap out of people, and robbing them is not in the right. You did what any decent person would do."
"So what are we going to do about this guy?" January fumed. "We can't let him get away with it. I helped him. I've got to stop him."
"Well just beating him up isn't going to solve anything." Gadget mused. "We need some kind of proof that those are conflict diamonds."
"Can't you tell just by looking at them?" January said. "Don't they have a serial number or something engraved on the diamond?"
"According to what I am reading, not all diamonds do." Gadget filled more screens with information. "Only those graded by the Gemological Institute of America are like that."
"But his diamonds are coming from Africa." January observed. "Even the legit ones from there won't have that."
"Hmmm, this says the Kimberley Process Certification Scheme was created by the UN to validate diamonds from all over the world. If it's been through the process, it's shipped out in a sealed container and has a certificate to say it's legal."
"Well there was no sealed container," January recalled, "just a bag. Anyway, he'll probably just say that Lighthammer destroyed the certificate."
"Yeah, but he's a businessman. So he has to have some kind of spreadsheet," Gadget reasoned. "He needs a way of tracking what he buys and what he sells. Otherwise he has no idea if he's making money or losing it."
"Or if any of his own people are ripping him off." January said. "So his phone then?"
"I've got that covered." Gadget got up and went rummaging through a drawer full of junk. With a bark of triumph he pulled out a palm-sized gizmo of buttons, knobs, and lights. "I did some experimenting on this last year. It's a Kingfish. It's based on the Stingray tracking devices that the military and cops use. It will completely clone every phone in ten feet. All data in just a minute."
"So I put this in my pocket, get within ten feet, and boom, we have him!" January smiled. "So where is he?"
"The police probably have him for questioning," Gadget thought aloud. "They love questioning. It gives them an excuse to sit around doing nothing."
"I can walk into the police station no problem." January could not believe she had just said that. A transgender person just walking into a police station. She might as well have said that she would walk into the lion enclosure at the zoo. But neither thought filled her with trepidation. Not anymore. "But how do I get close enough to him? They're going to have him back in an interrogation room, or some high muckety-muck's office."
"Hmmm," Gadget rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He went back to his computer and set to typing again.
January stared at Subramanian's picture, willing it to tell her his secrets. As if a picture on a computer screen could suddenly talk.
"You know, he doesn't look like someone who's exactly on the bleeding edge of technology," she thought aloud. "He's an old timer. He doesn't strike me as someone that would trust computers, or the internet, or smartphones."
"Probably like my Nana," Gadget said. "Can't even use a VCR..."
"What's a VCR?" January asked innocently. Gadget mimed slapping her, and she smiled.
"You think he's got something physical, like an old time ledger?" Gadget said seriously. "Practically prehistoric. But you might be right."
"He'd have to keep it close to him," January deduced. "But the police would have taken it after they searched the room."
"Unless he hid it somewhere," Gadget said. "He had plenty of time before the cops showed up."
"All right, head back over there and look, and I'll see what I can dig up on this end." He stood once more, and went to a battered old dresser that was half-buried under a tidal wave of junk. Fighting one drawer open, he produced a gold mine of decidedly advanced equipment, starting with an ultra-thin rappelling line.
"No need for a claw, it uses my molecular bonding technique, well, it will once I get it working," he explained.
An encrypted phone miniaturized down to an earbud came with it, an electric lock pick made from a toothbrush, a few smoke grenades, and of course the phone cloner. January was glad for the utility belt he had added to her armor. Otherwise she would have needed a pack to carry it all!
"Umm, unless I am going to take the bus, you are going to have to drive me," January pointed out.
"You can just take the Geo," Gadget said. He began to rummage around in his pockets until January brought him up short.
"And who is going to drive it?" she asked. "It's a stick shift."
"Oh, right," Gadget winced. "I guess I am coming with you, in the mobile command center."
Solid LightSurat, IndiaCentral African RepublicThe Kimberley Process Certification SchemeMetro BoominStingray Phone Tracker