Danny Hebert.
Taylor watched him intently. Her eyes, which just seconds before had sparkled with excitement at having been able to experiment with the derivative of one of the most broken powers in what she once considered fiction, grew dull, distant.
In her mind, the gears of the Queen Administrator (QA) and the technical whispers of Shaper fell silent instantly.
She felt a surge of something. It was a mixture of residual recognition, a hint of pity for the broken man before her, and an echo of the anguish she assumed the original would have felt.
"(QA. Take it off.)"
The Administrator's response was immediate. Taylor felt a subtle pressure at the base of her skull, and suddenly, the knot of compassion and fear that threatened to rise simply… shifted. Through the invisible network that connected her to the outside world, QA channeled her emotions to the most distant living beings she could control without drawing attention.
Three blocks from the hospital, in a dark alley, a colony of cockroaches began to stir frantically, devouring one another in an outburst of blind, senseless aggression. A swarm of flies near the hospital's dumpsters fell to the ground, their tiny nervous systems fried by the intensity of the human panic transferred to them.
Free of the emotional burden, Taylor sighed as her eyes scanned the father of her current body, who was stumbling toward her.
"Taylor! Oh, God, Taylor…" Danny dropped to his knees beside the bed, trying to put his arms around her, but stopping halfway, as if afraid she would disintegrate at his touch. "You're awake. You're… you're okay. They told me… the school called… the locker…"
He was sobbing. It was a wet, pathetic sound. Taylor analyzed it like a specimen under a microscope. She observed the wrinkles on his face, the lack of grooming that betrayed years of untreated depression after Annette's death, and the way his hands trembled. He was a broken man grasping at straws. And in that moment, Taylor decided that straw wouldn't be her.
"Hi, Dad." Herbert said, her voice flat, devoid of the warmth or relief Danny had hoped for.
To him, it must have sounded like the result of deep trauma, a classic dissociation of someone who had spent hours locked in a confined space with biological waste.
To her, it was simply the most efficient way to interact without compromising her new nature before she got used to it.
"I'm so sorry, Taylor..." Danny finally dared to take her hand. Taylor didn't pull away, but kept her muscles relaxed, not returning the squeeze. "I should have been there. I should have listened. I've been a mess, I know, but I'm going to fix it. Those girls… the school… I'm going to make them pay. We're going to get you out of here, we're going to go home and…"
Midway through the conversation, Taylor stopped listening. Danny Hebert was a vulnerability. He not only knew the old Taylor, but he was also a weak point, whether it was her outbursts of anger or her underdeveloped sense of self-preservation.
If she wanted to operate as a Bio-tinker Master without being detected by the PRT or the city's enemies, she couldn't have an emotionally unstable civilian watching her every move.
[Proposition: The Danny Hebert Genetic Support Unit presents an 84% safety risk due to emotional proximity.] QA vibrated in her consciousness.
[Analysis: The Host requires isolation for cellular optimization. Suggestion: Forced relocation.] Shaper added, sending bursts of data on how to manipulate Danny's neurotransmitters if she managed to touch him the right way.
Taylor analyzed the information as Danny continued talking, promising a future she had already dismissed.
"Dad," Taylor interrupted, softening her tone slightly to feign fragility. "I'm so tired. Everything is... blurry."
"Of course, of course, I'm sorry, I should have known you'd be in shock." Danny stood up quickly, wiping his tears with his jacket sleeve. "I'll call the nurse, tell them you're awake. Don't move, Taylor. I'm never going to leave you alone again."
Never again… a beautiful promise… too bad that promise sounded like a prison sentence she wasn't willing to accept.
As Danny turned to look for the doctors and nurses watching him from outside the room, Taylor closed her eyes and focused on the connection with her fragments.
"(Shaper… Is what you're proposing safe?)"
[Confirmed. Modification of adrenal glands to induce chronic fatigue, mild neurological imbalance. Or chemical suggestion via pheromones to encourage the desire to migrate. A catalyst can be shaped without harming the target.]
Taylor contemplated the idea. If she could subtly alter Danny's biology to make him leave the city, along with an identical double of herself, she could absolve him of all responsibility and complicity.
She could use his victim facade, along with his negative memories of the city, to manipulate social services and the workers' union. Added to this, the lawsuit they would file against that garbage dump disguised as a school should have the necessary funds, providing a justification along the way.
The plan began to take shape by the time Danny returned with a doctor and a nurse. The doctor began asking questions, checking her pupils, and inquiring about her pain level. Taylor responded mechanically, feigning confusion when necessary, and opening her eyes slightly when they mentioned that, due to the severity of her injuries, she had been treated by Panacea while unconscious.
"She appears to be in perfect physical condition, Mr. Hebert," the doctor remarked, sighing and glancing at the Panacea results, feeling a touch envious of the latter. "But the psychological impact is what concerns us most. She seems very… withdrawn."
"It's because of what they did to her," Danny spat, his voice filling again with that impotent fury. "They locked her up in that filth! It's a miracle she didn't die!"
Taylor looked out the hospital window. A couple of flies landed on the windowsill. With a thought, she took control of them by clapping rhythmically, a beat only she understood.
"(Soon)"
She just needed to be alone with her… father. She needed the hospital to let them spend the night together in the room. A single touch of their skin, a tiny exchange of cells through sweat or a micro-wound, and Shaper could begin working on his system.
It wouldn't be painful. It would be… an early retirement from his life. She would send him to New York or find him an administrative position at another branch of the union in Maine.
.
.
.
After Taylor underwent routine tests and a meeting with a psychologist was scheduled for the following morning, both Herberts were allowed to spend the night in the room due to concerns about the girl's mental state.
When Danny approached her again, this time sitting beside her and pulling a chair up to her bed, he took her hand and squeezed it. She seized the moment.
"Everything's going to be okay, Taylor. I promise. Daddy's here."
She looked at him and, for the first time since she had met him face to face, she gave him a smile. It was a small, pale smile that didn't reach her eyes. But a smile nonetheless.
"I know... Dad," she whispered, while in her mind, Shaper began to devise the manipulation sequence that would change Danny Herbert's destiny forever. "I know."
At that moment, as the afternoon sun began to set over the polluted Brockton Bay, the Taylor that Tierra Bet knew finally vanished.