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Epilogue
Officer Kent was just about exactly how I'd expected him to be: smooth, trim, and attractive. For a tippy, of course. He kept himself in shape and wore his uniform and SB radio bracelet proudly. He was tall, chiseled, and confident. His adopted informal speaking style didn't match his physique and overall neatness but I don't think anyone else noticed.
"So, another science experiment gone wrong, huh?"
Kent was more than happy to wake up in the middle of the night when I called from the doctor's house, saying that I had cracked the case. He was decidedly less excited when he arrived at Doc Arts' home to find the doctor dead. Even less so when he saw the condition of the body. I had only waited a few minutes before entering the back lab, but the sparkly robots had already consumed two thirds of the doctor's body. All that was left was his belly and a bit around the elbow of one arm. I spoke the complex series of sounds that it took to shut down Assistant, which didn't, as I had hoped, send the tiny floating robots back to their tank. Instead, I ended up using the doctor's spray to kill them. Apparently, I was right and the glossy look of Ed's wound was because of the robots. Once I killed them on the doctor, gravity pretty much expelled all the blood and juices that were left in a hurry. Needless to say, I hoped Ted had some way of cleaning my shoes.
I was sitting upstairs in the living room of the doctor's home with Kent sitting across from me. He was happy that he'd gotten to call in The Bulwark, but knew that the death of the doctor wasn't going to score him many brownie points. They would remember his name, however, and that was worth something. Hopefully, later on, I could cash in on that one. Behind him, Gale leaned against the wall, glaring at me. I tried to ignore her. All night there had been mourners, lawyers, and random supers in and out of the place. Doc Arts was well known and well loved. Plus, if you were trying to make a name for yourself as a fledgling super, getting on TV seemed to be a good way to increase your exposure. Liz had stopped by and let me know that TOP would be there for the non-super victims. She put a hand on my shoulder and I squeezed it but I had a hard time meeting her eyes. She gave me a look that told me it was okay and that we'd talk later. I heard a lot of talk. Some were suggesting an international day of mourning; others wanted some sort of memorial. The more extreme suggestions involved a Rushmore-like carving on the moon. God. I hoped they wouldn't go through with that one. I didn't think I could go out at night if I had to see his face staring down at me.
One of the harder moments was when Medico's daughter was brought out. She was young, maybe three years old, and she didn't understand. Disconcertingly, she asked more about Assistant than she did her own father. I couldn't help but hang my head. There was no way I could look that little girl in the eye. Members of The Bulwark had been in and out of the doctor's lab all night mostly bringing out material and equipment to be destroyed. Ninety percent of what was down there was completely unidentifiable to anyone but the doctor so it all had to be destroyed or recycled. Given that his supposedly harmless robot had gone on a killing spree of unknown scope, they weren't taking many chances. If it even had a circuit board, they'd strip it for wire and raw materials and incinerate the rest.
As Officer Kent continued his questioning, I noticed a familiar officer in the crowd. As I didn't normally associate with many cops it drew my attention. At first I couldn't see his face clearly, but it was obvious he was doing more than just cleaning up. Half of what he picked up went in his pockets. I was about to say something to Kent when the officer turned.
Ted.
He was wearing the same face I'd last seen on him except now he had a mustache and a cop's uniform. He tipped his hat at me and ducked out through the front door. I closed my mouth, which had been ready to report this suspicious cop.
Well, it looked like Ted would owe me one more for not ratting him out.
Finally, Kent was done with his questions and he stood up. "Well, thanks for the collar. Sorry it ended up this way. I know you didn't like the guy, but no one deserves to go like that."
"Yeah," I responded softly.
He patted me on the shoulder, "It's been a long night, man. Sun's almost up. I'm sure we're gonna have some more questions for you tomorrow. Try to get some sleep. I'll see if I can keep them from calling you in before lunch."
"Thanks for that," I nodded at him, but I couldn't help but notice how intently Gale was watching me.
As he left, she walked over purposefully, the white fabric snaking around her angrily. Unlike before, she was wearing her customary molded eye mask. This one was white, to match the fabric, and trimmed with a silver wind motif. I thought it was a bit much, but it was clear she wasn't coming over to talk about masks.
"Gale..."
"Cut it, Bob. I want the truth," she whispered angrily. She sat where Kent had, only moments before, and leaned far in so that we were almost nose-to-nose. She must have had dinner plans. She was wearing the perfume she only wore when she went out.
"I'm not sure what you mean," I responded evasively.
"So that's your story? You get here, tell Arts about the microbots, and they turn on him?"
"That's the way it happened," I looked at the floor.
"And you're telling me there was nothing you could have done? Nothing that might have saved him?"
"No."
"Bob?"
I looked up at her, her hazel eyes so familiar, yet so distant.
"Yes?"
"Tell me you couldn't have done anything. Tell me you didn't let him die. Tell me you didn't orphan that poor girl under some pretense of justice."
"Come on, Wendi, you know me. Do you think I won't be asking myself that same question every night? Could I have found the code faster? I thought that would shut down the... microbots you called them... but it didn't. I didn't think they would hurt me. And they didn't, but at the time I didn't want to go diving through a cloud of them for the can." I sighed, "Sure, in hindsight, if I had grabbed the can first, maybe. But they went right for the brain from what I saw. I don't know that there was anything I could have done."
"It wouldn't be justice, you know," she stated, voice hard.
I thought about the daughter. Would she really be worse off without her father? I didn't know. "What do you mean?"
"It's revenge, pure and simple. Nothing you can do will bring her back. Bring me back."
"I know," I answered wistfully. "I know."
She stared at me for a long moment, skeptical, "Okay, okay. I know how these things are. I won't second-guess you. But you have to admit that you've never been a fan."
"That's an understatement," I said. "But do you really think I'd let the man die?"
She looked at me again. I met her eyes, happy to be this close to her again regardless of the circumstances.
"No, I suppose not. The man I knew wouldn't, that's for sure."
I nodded, remembering that man.
She stood, slowly, the cloth around her settled in to a comfortable position, "You know, you just called me Wendi, right?"
"Sorry, Gale."