Page 90 of The Mech Who Loved Me
But then, the same could have been saidofhim.
"Why did you invite me to join COR?" Another question that had been plaguing him. "I can't physically match you or the others. I'm cannon fodder when it comes to thedhampir. You've got Jack in the basement, building your devices, so you don't need a mech. I just don't understand what I…"bring to the group."What you wantfromme."
"You came highly recommended. The Duchess of Casavian told me you'd fight me every step of the way, but you were cunning, ruthless, and ingenious. You think in ways I don't, and you know the mech world, the humanist cause." Malloryn leaned forward, elbows on his desk. "You represent a part of the population I need to be able to read and reachoutto."
"So it was allpolitical?"
"Partly. I think you sell yourself short. You're a fighter, and you don't flinch in the face ofdanger—"
"I'm still the most likely to get my throattornout."
Malloryn's gaze shuttered. "Your physical limitationsbotheryou."
It cut right to the core of him. Was that why he'd been questioning his value so often this past month? Malloryn couldn't know of the iceberg he touched upon—or he'd better bloody not—but maybe there was something to that train ofthought?
"And?" he askedicily.
"Why don't you do something about it?" Malloryn suggested, leaning back again as if to dismiss the conversation. "Stop thinking about your weaknesses, Kincaid, and start thinking about your strengths and what you can bring to this team. Specifically that thing in the basement you've been playing with over the lastmonth."
His mech-suit. Kincaid frowned, wondering how Malloryn found out about it. "It's something to do in mysparetime."
"Is it?" Malloryn picked up his spring-pen again. "A curious choice of hobby for a man who derides his physical limits. Are you sure your mind's not trying to tell yousomething?"
* * *
Play to his strengths.He coulddothat.
After pacing the house for the next half hour, Kincaid found himself in the basement, or what they affectionately referred to as Dungeon II, after Malloryn moved them from the first compromised safe house. It was no enclave, but not too shabby in itself, with every tool he could possibly want. He couldn't stop thinking about what Malloryn had said. Jack blinked up at him through a set of goggles, as if wondering why he wasthere.
The other man wore a mask covering the lower half of his face, with a filtration device to purify the air he breathed. Scars disfigured his face, and Kincaid had heard Jack's lungs were affected too, but the man had the kind of hands that could build anything, and a voice like a circus ringmaster. "Here to finish yourproject?"
"I haven't had a chance to look at it in over a week," Kincaid said, crossing to the corner he'd taken for himself and ripping the sheet off his project. A full mech-suit gleamed in the bright lights Jack hadinstalled.
It wasn't finished. He'd been hesitating to solder the final joints together, tinkering with the small steam-engine component that drove it, even though it was ready. A mechanical suit to reinforce a man's body, with pistons in the leg guards that could force a man's legs to work if they were feeble, and overlapping steel plates to protect his inner organs. He wasn't sure why he'd started making it. Or no... that wasn'tstrictlytrue.
His legs would fail, his muscles turning traitor on him at some stage. His leg braces kept him moving so far, but soon enough they wouldn't be strong enough to hold him up. Even now, he could feel the faint tremor in his calves, and stairs would one day be the bane of his existence. Kincaid ran the pads of his fingers over the chest piece. A suit like this meant an independent life for as long as he could strap himselfintoit.
But if one looked at it in another way, it was also a means to give a man mechanical strength his own body couldn't provide, as well as protection from injury. With this, Kincaid could leap off roofs, punch his way through a brick wall, and deflect any blow from a blueblood.
Jack slid his magnifying goggles atop his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Are you going to finish ittoday?"
"Not much else to do." Malloryn had set his spies into action, and Ava needed rest. By himself, he couldn't work out the science behind Ava's assumptions. He needed her quicksilver mind and defiant focus. The Nighthawks were keeping an eye on the city, and they'd be contacted the moment another Black Vein case came up, but for now... he needed something mindlesstodo.
"I like it," Jack said, admiring his work. "Not a Cyclops—nowhere near as heavy, for example, but it will give you greater maneuverability, and the smaller size makes it more versatile. Are you thinking of getting a patent for it? I know a great many factories would see a use in making a single man as strong as an ox, and I'm sure those who work in law enforcement would appreciate the added protection andstrength."
He hadn't thought so far ahead. Kincaid dragged on his gloves slowly. A patent on something like this and a means to manufacture it would provide enough money for Orla to pay for proper care for Ian—and give her a damned rest every now and then. There'd be risks involved—he hadn't a clue how to get started, but it was a spark of inspiration. "Now there'sanidea."
"You'd need a partner." Jack circled the suit. "Someone mechanicallyminded."
"Anyone you know?" Kincaid slowly smiled. Jack had been one of the masterminds behind theCyclops.
"Possibly." Jack's eyes creased in a smile the mask hid. "And a backer... preferably arichone."
A grimace. "If you're suggesting I go talk toMalloryn—"
"He's got the funds, he's a duke, he has influence, and he's very likely uninterested in controlling a business something like this would need." Jack sucked in a slow breath through his mask. "My sister is married to a duke too. But there's certainly no harm in talking to Malloryn. He's quite forward-thinking, for a blueblood."
For a blue blood. It wasn't as though he was growing to like Malloryn, but... the duke wasn't as bad as he sometimes made out. None of the blue blood Rogues were. Kincaid stared at the suit, then glanced at Jack. "You were a humanist once. What do you make of allofthis?"
