Weight of the World

The upper decks of the Watchtower were brighter somehow. It wasn’t as though the lower levels were shrouded in darkness or anything like that. The labs and rooms and cells below were all starkly lit in the similar way the top floors were. Perhaps the walls up here were a different tint of green alloy? Your footfalls echoed a little oddly too, though you couldn’t pinpoint why. Everything was still built around this circular, towering monolith design, the hallways curving inward while the vastness of space outside twinkled beyond the glass.

What was a bit different were the etched designs near the tall ceilings, colouring the metal in different shapes and symbols. You could recognize them easily, iconic as they were. Superman’s shield shaped crest. Wonder Woman’s waving bands. Batman’s bat insignia. The Flash’s lightning bolt. Green Lantern’s… Lantern? There were more, some even too esoteric for you to match against any heroes you knew. You decided to just focus on the path ahead after a while instead of gazing at the ceiling. You hoped to maybe catch a glimpse of a symbol that wasn’t simply decorating a wall. You hoped to see one emblazoned on a chest or cape or armband or whatever costume currently being worn on a living, breathing superhero… Not that you were a particular fanboy or anything, and you had already met the likes of Wonder Woman and Batman. It just seemed like you might have a more-likely-than-not chance of bumping into some other epic hero, the same way you might expect to chance upon a random movie star or two if you were visiting a Hollywood set.

Unfortunately these floors of the Watchtower appeared as empty as the lower ones. Superheroes had jobs to do, of course, all over the world. They mostly likely only gathered here in numbers when something world ending required a meeting. At least, if you followed Tina’s lead (the woman not breaking her stride at all as she marched you through the winding halls) you were certain to run into one particular hero.

You met the Cyborg. Or maybe it was just Cyborg. Either way you felt like being in his presence was... expensive. Despite noting that his entire body appeared to be covered in (or made of) some glimmering metal technology that was also strangely alive, what little remained of him that was visibly human made him seem youthful. Perhaps it was the broad, optimistic smile. Most of his face was still just his face. Organic. Dark skin against the silver alloy. More alien alloy wrapped around the left side of his head, covering one eye which had been replaced with some sort of glowing red cybernetic optic. He fixed you with his regular, still human eye. Dark brown and sharp.

“The mysterious Asset!” he greeted you cheerfully. His voice was surprisingly human. You expected there to be some sort of digital, modulated effect to his tenor, but obviously that had just been the distortion filtered over the data transmission through a screen last time. “Doctor Doe, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

His jovial attitude felt supremely genuine and you were reaching for his big metal hand before you even realised it. The grip was strong, as you expected, but also warm, which you hadn’t.

“Are you sure this will work?” Doctor McGee asked, apparently finding that to be enough of an introduction. Cyborg looked over to the big screen the three of you were standing by. Various complicated outlines and 3D blueprints of technology flitted up on display without needing any buttons pressed or even motions made by the hero. It seemed whatever he spoke, or perhaps thought of, was just automatically brought up, his integration into the Watchtower invisible to you.

“Some leftover tech from Ambush Bug’s original suit, and Professor Hamiliton’s old guidance systems from the Ruin tech, cobbled together with my expertise in Boom Tube science? If he doesn’t get blown into little bits on the first trip, I can tell ya for sure the device I built was a roaring success.”

Neither you nor your stern colleague found his joke to be particularly amusing, but Cyborg wasn’t deterred. “I had Batman go over the designs, if that makes you feel better,” he said, his convivial visage not slipping but the hint of bitterness still undercut his tone. He only let it bother him for a nanosecond really. “This whole thing was his idea anyway, remember?”

“He always has ideas for everybody doesn’t he,” McGee stated, her coldness even catching Cyborg for a moment.

“This is important tech, Doc,” the part-machine part-man said, now turning to you. He returned your high-tech watch, which you had just handed over to him a moment ago. He somehow folded a large mechanism of twisted wires and silver circuitry into the small wrist worn device while maintaining its flat profile and comfortable size. When you wrapped it back on your arm it did seem slightly heavier, denser perhaps, but was otherwise unchanged on the surface. “It’s coded to activate with your biometric signatures only,” he explained, then put a metal finger of the display and swiped down, which would be up from your direction. “It has a similar neuro-sensory as my Mother Box cybernetics, so you can beam your thoughts to it and set targets from the available set in the database. Can even trigger the ‘port that way.”

You looked up from the tiny device to Cyborg's red and brown eyes. Your thoughts?

“This thing can … read my mind?” you asked, hoping you didn’t sound too anxious about this strange science.

“If it helps you to think of it that way,” Cyborg shrugged. “It’s not exactly reading you, it’s a receiver only. Kind of hard to explain until you get to using it, but it’s not poking around in your brain or anything like that. It’s just the next advancement in user input controls. First you physically pressed buttons with a finger, then you just waved a hand, now you don’t even need to do that. Just think at it, with intent, and it will do as you need it to.”

It was a difficult concept to wrap your head around, but it made a certain sense at the back of your mind. “We call it ‘Limitless Operation’. I guess it’s all pretty basic stuff to me, but I’m not the average customer,” he admitted. “Now, this thing is a pretty powerful tool. It’s not fragile but it’s not indestructible either. Don't break it. It only works on you, and the Watchtower is the hub so you need to return here if you ever need to drop in to more than one place. ”

“Right,” you nodded, trying to bank as much of his warnings as you could along with the pertinent information.

“Its default location is fixed to the Watchtower,” he continued explaining in his friendly, easy manner. “Doctor McGee reminds me that you’re a civilian, so while it’s best to avoid drop-ins to anywhere there might be danger, sometimes things like that are unavoidable. Hitting the panic button will send you right back here immediately. Instantaneously. It’s your safety net.”

You gave your colleague a sidelong glance and could tell she was pressing her tongue against the back of her teeth. Cyborg ignored this and went on. “It tracks your targets by DNA signature, and the Watchtower systems do most of the guidance. Doctor McGee will verify the patients for you and give clearance, then you’ll be able to trigger teleportation at any time. You’ll drop right where your patient is, anywhere in the world, and be able to do your thing.”

He clapped his large machine mitts together. “And that’s about it. You must be one heck of a medic, Doctor Doe,” he said, still cheerful. Had he still not worked out what your real field of medical expertise was, or was this just Cyborg using his discretion? “That thing is one of a kind,” he said of your wrist-worn teleporter. “We can’t really make another one of those. Wouldn’t know where else to get the unstable convenium alloys now that the Phantom Zone is closed. What you have there is the first and only Personal Limitlessly Operated Teleportation Device in the world. Or off the world, technically.”

The watch seemed a lot heavier all of a sudden, like the weight of the world was contained within it, but at least this chapter of exposition was finally over.