Jett sat down and helped himself to a croissant and spread cream cheese on it. He nearly cried when the flavor exploded in his mouth. After months of tasteless ration bricks, it was the most welcome change he'd experienced since his reawakening.
"Wow." He wolfed down a forkful of bacon and eggs while greedily staring at the food on display. "You always prepare so much?"
Bailey turned his gleaming, bullet-shaped head. "Only when we're expecting company."
Jett grinned around a mouthful of food. "Even I can't eat all of this."
"You're not the only company we're expecting, sir."
The far doors slid open. A woman walked in, practical in a long-sleeved button down and jeans. Her long, raven-black hair gleamed like wet ink, swaying with her sinuous strides. Her dark eyes took Jett in with a disapproving stare. The last time he's seen her was at the funeral. But he immediately knew she was the person behind Viper's mask.
Arthur dipped a nod her direction. "Qhawa."
"Arthur." She took her seat at the table, helping herself to a small cup of tea. Her eyes never left Jett. He felt as though she weighed him with her gaze, judging his worth.
Jett raised a glass of mimosa. "Ms. Qhawa. Or is it Viper? How do you keep from getting all these names tangled?"
"Carefully, Mr. Wolfe. If you cannot perform that simple task, how can you believe yourself worthy of taking on the mantle of Vigil?"
Jett glanced at Arthur. "I don't think she likes me."
"Qhawa doesn't like anyone. Don't worry; she grows on you."
She gave them both a severe look. "Look at you. Boys playing games. Why don't you tell Mr. Wolfe what happened to the last candidate?"
Arthur glared at her. "Straight to point, is it?"
"Why not? He deserves to know."
Arthur sighed, turning to Jett. "What Qhawa is trying to say is that this isn't the first time we've recruited someone."
She stared, never blinking. "You, Arthur. Not me. You recruited someone."
"Fine. I recruited someone. When my body was… shattered, Wayne took it hard. He retired as Vigil, vowing never to don the suit again. I felt different. I wanted… absolution. I thought if there was no Vigil, my sacrifice was for nothing. So I recruited someone. A disillusioned HSSC agent who wanted change. Long story short…"
Jett paused in the act of forking steaming eggs into his mouth. "He died."
"That's right. Walked into an ambush investigating the Diabolis organization."
"The same crew I was onto."
"That's right. It's hardly a coincidence. There's very little vice that Diabolis doesn't have its fingers in. Their network is ingrained in the city like bedrock."
Qhawa sliced a fresh peach open. Juice slid down the blade, dripping onto the saucer. "That's not the point. A man died because you thought he could become a hero. Now you're asking for another man to do so as well. He almost died already. You need to cut him loose before it's too late."
Jett waved a hand. "I'm right here, you know."
She turned her stare his direction. "You are a stranger here. This isn't your fight. It's not even your concern."
Heat flooded to his face at her casual dismissal. "You think I should just drop my head and turn a blind eye like everyone else? Walk around with a V-screen on my face and pretend not to see what's around me? That's not who I am."
"Why? Why risk your life to protect people you don't even know?"
"Because it's right. Because it can make a difference."
Her laughter rang with derision. "If you can't be honest with us, at least be honest with yourself. Why do it?"
"I told you—"
"You told a lie. Try the truth this time. Why do you want to do this?"
"Because… I need this, okay?" His chest heaved as the words blurted out. "When I put the mask on, when I use the tools to fight back, I feel like I have… a purpose. When I came out of stasis, I was lost. A man out of time; no past, no future. Everything I was, everyone I knew — dust. I was a zombie. That only changed when Wayne saved my life in my alley. He gave me the tools to do something real. I was meant to do it." He raised his head, looking her in the eyes. "I was meant for this."
Arthur studied Jett over steepled fingers. "You're a soldier without a war to fight. You've lost literally everything. And if nothing comes of it, your sacrifice was for nothing."
Jett nodded. His breathing felt ragged, his vision blurry. He scrubbed his eyes. "Maybe all I'm good at is fighting."
Qhawa toyed with the knife in her hand. "How would you know if you never try something else?"
"I've tried something else. Ever since waking up in this place, I've tried. It's suffocating. This city is a vise. Every day, squeezing. Crushing. I don't want to be its next victim. Not if I can do something about it. Not if I can fight back. Something Wayne said to me right before he died: 'if you see something wrong, you do something about it. No matter what the cost.' That makes sense to me. That's something I can aspire to."
Qhawa sipped from her cup. "Wayne was a simple man. The world is complicated. He never learned that."
"Then let's make it less complicated. When Alexander the Great was challenged with untangling the Gordian knot, he took his sword and cut it in two. An intractable problem undid by a simple solution."
"The man is a scholar in addition to a poorly-trained fighter." Qhawa's smile was only half-mocking. "So the city is the Gordian knot, I assume. Does that mean you consider yourself an Alexander?"
Jett answered with a smile of his own. "No. I consider myself the sword."
She slowly gave an approving nod, exchanging glances with Arthur.
"This one might do," she said.
"Your cyberdermis combat suit. The complete set this time."
Back in the underground hub, Jett pulled on the ensemble as Arthur expounded on the details.
"The inside is layered with millions of nanosensors that bond to your physiology, acting as a second epidermis and protecting you from radiation, extreme heat and cold, chemical attacks, etc. The outer layer is lined with a similar anti-Newtonian liquid armor as the trench coat, able to repel standard firearms and some more powerful weapons. Only this version is smarter, able to sync with the info fed from the epidermis layer to provide additional protection where it's most needed. The harder something hits it, the stronger it gets.
"The outer layer is fabric mesh armor reinforced with lightweight alloy plates protecting chest, torso, shoulders, knees, and elbows. You already know the basics of your g-span combat gauntlets. Your new pair are upgraded models. Takes less power, making charges last longer. Your combat stealth boots are equipped with antigrav repellers which grant you a limited boost in jumping and can soften your landing."
"How is it powered?"
"Good question. Self-charging fusion strips are built into the armor, in addition to a number of small sensors that take in energy from various sources, including heat and light. The inner layer can even retain reserve power from the heat of your own body."
Jett stretched and flexed, testing the mobility of the new suit. "This is amazing. It fits perfectly. That should be impossible. I'm taller and larger than Wayne was."
Arthur gave him a wry glance. "That suit is specifically designed to your measurements. While you were healing, I designed and created the suit via our AM."
"AM? What's that?"
"Additive Manufacturer."
"That's crazy." Jett ran his fingers over his armored arm. "You created this using 3D printing?"
"Most things are manufactured this way now. If you have the funds to purchase a top-level AM, there's nearly no limit to what you can create. The floater that brought you here was constructed the same way. The only real restriction is the cost of manufacturing. As you can probably guess, it gets expensive."