Scene 4 - February 14th

Interior MLED Compound, Late Afternoon

Quinn Kaufman

I liked being a Journeyman. It kept me nice and busy, giving my mind no time to worry about my uncertain future or obsess over the mysteries of my past - between school, training, and patrols, it was rare that I had time to be caught by anxious thoughts.

Console duty, unfortunately, was one of those rare times.

Oh, it was important, to be sure - interfacing with the police and other emergency services, keeping track of the news and alerts, and directing the patrolling heroes to where they could do the most good was vital, and they were tasks that they had no time to do themselves. But while I acknowledged its importance, console duty was slow, for the most part.

Patrols in general were slow, and so, in fact, was heroism - Abe had once remarked to me that the kind of crisis which actually required superheroes, supervillains and similar, usually only happened once or twice a year, at least in New Venice. Most of the time, heroes were just patrolling - maintaining visibility to discourage villains from beginning those crises, and dealing with non-powered crime on the way. But, while it was far from uncommon to come across muggers, thieves, and other such crimes, that very visibility meant that crime, in the area of a hero’s patrol, was actually pretty low - criminals tended to scurry away when a hero was around, rather than commit their crimes. Prevention, rather than apprehension, was the strategy, much like the mere presence of a security guard in a mall stops more shoplifting than they could ever personally prevent. As a result, it wasn’t rare for patrols to go by entirely without incident.

But patrolling was also a very physical activity - moving across the city rooftops for four hours at a time, power-assisted or no, was quickly getting me into the best shape of my life - and that physicality drove a lot of thought from my mind. I was focused on spotting any crimes that were happening, on moving to the next rooftop, and on maintaining banter with whichever hero I was patrolling with - even Adam was beginning to open up. Starling had never bantered with me, but he had also been transferred out, as Abe had promised, at the beginning of the month.

By contrast, on console there was nothing to do but watch - and while there was a lot to watch, between several scrolling newsfeeds and the occasional remarks from Vulcan and Sequoia, who were currently doing a walkthrough of the docks, I was all-too-good at multitasking. I was entirely capable of manning the console while filled with anxiety - and musing about my ability to do that could only stave it off for so long.

“Heya, Quinn,” came a familiar voice from behind me, and I broke out into a grin.

“Holly!” I cried, spinning the seat to look at her. “Please tell me you’re here to relieve me of my mind-numbing duty?”

“Sorry,” she said, pulling up a spare seat. “You’re only half an hour into your shift - you’re here until 8.”

I sighed. “I know, I know. I just hate console duty.”

“I’m aware. Which is why I’m here.”

“But not to replace me?”

“No - to keep you company.” She smiled at me, and produced a lunchbox. “And to share some snacks.”

“You’re a life-saver,” I told her, taking the box and looking to see what she had brought - chips, apple slices, pretzels... I snagged a bag of sliced apples and popped one into my mouth. “Honestly.”

She leaned back in her seat, watching with an indulgent look as I turned back to the console. “So, anything interesting happen so far?”

“Not so far, no. How did your day go?”

“Well, I’ve been planning out my magical studies thesis...”