Industrious: Engineering Marvels - Chapter 14 (Patreon)

I'll admit that the Hellfire Club had never been my particular favorite part of the overall Marvel franchise of properties, for a number of reasons. The first was that conspiracies tended to be dramatically overplayed when they popped up in narratives. The classic example was the villain James Moriarty from Sherlock Holmes. Prior to his emergence as the central antagonist of the series, Sherlock's cases were largely episodic and tackled a variety of crimes, criminals, and methodologies. Moriarty constrained the varied structure of the Sherlock cases by creating a mastermind behind the scenes and upping the stakes significantly.

Afterward, even cases that weren't initially related to Moriarty were revealed to be one of his schemes after the fact or soft-retconned into his work in a later book.

 Moriarty became the go-to cause of all of Sherlock's woes and the arch-villain behind every case. Less competent schemers became unnecessary to the grand design of the plot due to the simple fact that Sherlock had already matched wits with someone so much more capable than them. Naturally, this meant he should triumph over the more pedestrian murderers and con artists easily.

So... why show them at all?

Narrative is about conflict, after all. Barring a few standout exceptions that only really serve to prove the rule, of course. But the point is that, should the protagonist's victory be assured, a story can easily become boring.

The overall effect of introducing a conspiracy was to reduce the value of less significant antagonists unless they are a tool of a yet-greater antagonist. It was one particular facet of a larger problem with conflict escalation in general, but a significant one in comics in particular because of their long-running nature. Comics were continuously rebooted with new authors and new generations to widen readership, which had positive effects but also negative ones. With conspiratorial organizations, the effect was generally to make them responsible for more historical shenanigans with each reboot.

 Your comic debuts in the seventies? Make them responsible for the oil crisis and financial downturns.

It gets rebooted in the eighties? Push their founding back a few decades and make them responsible for the Red Scare or all the bad things the USA did in South America.

Next decade it turns out they helped the Nazis come to power and started World War Two for... some reason. Probably for money and to show off how cartoonishly evil they were to the reader. Even now I kind of wanted to strangle the Red Skull while ranting at him that trying to out-evil the fucking Nazis wasn't a viable military strategy.

Then some other author gets their hands on the franchise and wants to make the shadowy-evil organization more threatening, as if out-eviling the Nazis isn't the peak of madness, so they're now responsible for World War One, as well. Oh, and the nineteen-hundred and six San Francisco earthquake, while we're at it!

Who knows how far back their insidious tentacles stretch?! They were probably even responsible for THAT! Yes, THAT! That historical event that you find particularly awful and will cement this new version of the conspiracy as the most sinister and wicked of all time!

The Hellfire Club was a nifty idea, is what I'm saying.

Until it became responsible for everything wrong with the world.

So... what all of this means is that I didn't enjoy their stories. Which meant that I didn't read all that many of them, of which Shaw was a principal character. Sue me. I knew, in the broadest possible way, that Sebastian Shaw was some kind of vaguely-defined 'Bad Guy.' I also knew that he'd ended up as the main antagonist in the First Class movie from a lifetime ago, even if that character was more like an amalgamation of a half-dozen different people than a real adaptation of him.

My most significant memories of Sebastian Shaw were actually from the X-Men television series from the late nineties, which was... hmm, perhaps not the best piece of fictional media to judge a now-real individual's future deeds by? I mean, Zola was one thing. The dude was already a card-carrying Nazi.

...but Shaw was just some mutant/newtype who read as dangerous, but other than absorbing a tiny speck of my chakra, hadn't really made any offensive moves.

Eh, I can always kill him later if he deserves it. With the added benefit of not traumatizing Erik further and not needing to hide a body in the British Museum.

I'd first need to ascertain exactly what kind of animal Shaw, this Shaw, actually was.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Shaw. Or is it Director?” I smiled, flexing my hand in a very specific way to cause the slightest tinge of pain in his own. “As you obviously already know, I'm Technical-Sergeant Ray Winston and this is Erik Lehnsherr, who is currently under my guardianship.”

 Shaw's face twitched with a suppressed reaction at my counter-provocation before smoothing out and giving a nod towards the boy behind me casually as he released my hand. “Yes, I do have to apologize about the... abruptness of our meeting. I'm just in London to coordinate a few things with Howard Stark and couldn't resist the urge. But, please, just 'mister.' Director is more of an honorary title after the donations I've made.”

I nodded slowly, deciding to give him enough rope as a show of good faith. “It's not a problem, I was just... taken aback by our meeting. I think I've heard your name bandied about a bit. Shaw Industries, correct? You're on the civilian side of things, though, I wouldn't have thought you'd have much to do with the war effort.”

The anachronistically-dressed man chuckled and shook his head. “Ah, a common misconception, but wherever soldiers go they do so enjoy having the basic amenities common to everyone else. Someone has to make the cots and boots and tents and... well, everything else, too.”

“I see,” I nodded. “I suppose the war has been good for your company, then?”

Shaw took a deep breath and sighed. “In a way. The same way as most American businesses, you could say, drawing us out of the Great Depression. It's a tragedy it had to come at the cost it did, though.”

Wonder of wonders... his body language reads as sincere. Where's the infamous Black King that wouldn't flinch from the deaths of millions to make a profit?

“Agreed,” I nodded cautiously. “It's a damn shame more of the government didn't see sense in backing Roosevelt's spending programs. Maybe we'd have been out of the gutter before things got truly dire in that case.”

Sebastian cocked a crooked grin as he rubbed at his goatee. “I don't know about that. For all the promise such public spending held, the war truly has revived American industry in ways I don't think anything else could.”

I chuckled in response, quirking a smirk of my own. “What would you call the war industry other than a campaign of public spending, just on an incredible scope and scale?”

Shaw blinked, looking taken aback for a moment, then barked a laugh. “An interesting way to look at things, Technical-Sergeant.”

“Ray, please. My rank is a bit of a mouthful,” I replied easily.

“Ahh...” The heretofore forgotten graduate student Gabriel, cleared his throat as he looked between us, having attempted and succeeded in fading into the background.. “I'll, just... um, go?”

Shaw hummed thoughtfully for a moment, then raised an eyebrow at Erik. “Gabriel, while I keep our visitor occupied, would you mind seeing about refreshments for young Erik? I'd hate to keep a lad of his age listening to a boring conversation between adults like the one we're having.”

“I don't mind, I-” Erik began, looking between us.

I sighed and cut the boy off as I put a hand on his shoulder gently, telegraphing the touch so that he didn't flinch too badly. Human contact was still a bit of a sore subject with him, but it was good to recondition him to it. “Mr. Shaw wants to talk to me in private, but he's being polite to both you and Gabriel here.”

Recognition lit in Erik's young face and I pulled out a few large bills, my first paycheck having been put in the bank while I was in Greece. Handing the graduate student enough to make his eyes widen, I fixed him with the kind of stare I'd given problem customers back in Konoha. “Take him on a short tour of something he'll find interesting while the Director and I talk. Keep whatever you don't spend on food and drinks. I'll be holding you accountable for anything that happens to him while he's in your care.”

Erik frowned as I dropped into a crouch. “I'd rather stay here.”

He didn't say, 'with you,' but I heard it all the same. I grimaced and rubbed at my chin for a moment, contemplating my reply. It would be the wrong thing to emphasize how 'important' Shaw was, as that would minimize Erik's own importance to me. Instead... “Sebastian Shaw is a very powerful man, Erik. He wants to talk to me alone. If I refuse, he's likely to take it personally and make my life and the lives of those around me very difficult to teach others a lesson about ignoring him. Can you be strong and go wander around the museum for half an hour with Gabriel?”

While the graduate student in question gave an aborted squawk of outrage from my explanation, I'd guessed right and Shaw himself made a sound of dark amusement in the background. Erik himself frowned, but nodded reluctantly. “Half an hour.”

 I nodded, shooting Shaw an amused look myself. “Half an hour. After all, I'm an important person myself, so my time is valuable, too. He can't have all of it just for the asking.”

Chucking, Shaw watched with me as Erik and Gabriel walked away down an aisle. “I suppose I'll have to make my time count, then. I have to say, though, that was well done. I don't think I've ever heard someone be so brazen with the truth when explaining something to a child.”

I sighed and shook my head. “Erik's not really a child. Not after what he's been through.”

Sebastian sobered and nodded even as I watched his body language like a hawk for falsehoods. “It's a horrid business on the continent, yes. You probably don't know, but almost ten years ago I went on a trip to sign a contract with a German firm.”

“Oh?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at the man.

He nodded, folding his arms behind his back as he did so. “I try not to waste my time on hate, Mr. Winston – Ray. I find it distracts from more important things I could be putting my time and energies to; more profitable enterprises. I made sure to develop a keen nose for it, too, after I almost made a fatal mistake for my career and nearly joined the KKK back in the twenties.”

I'd heard about that a long time ago. I wondered if it would ever be less weird constantly hearing historical events I'd learned about through documentaries referenced in my everyday life by people who had actually lived through them.

“I ended up ripping that contract into pieces and heading home, then donated a good sum to an organization working to get Jews, gypsies, and other groups they were targeting out of Germany before it could get any worse,” Sebastian stated, then sighed and turned to me. “It probably won't mean all that much from someone who isn't fighting on the front lines like you are, but... thank you. From one American to another.”

I stared at the man for a long moment, then nodded. “You aren't what I expected, but... you're welcome.”

Shaw smiled, the expression tinted with melancholy. “I didn't grow up a rich man, Ray. It's why I value money so much. Money lets you do things, make peoples' lives better, maybe even your own as well.”

“I suppose that's a clear enough segue to why you felt you needed to talk to me,” I nodded. “Since you've already mentioned Howard... I'm going to guess he let something slip.”

“Not anything incriminating,” Sebastian shook his head and untucked an arm from behind him to wave me off. “Or anything of substance, really. Still, even with the secrecy he's been employing, people notice when that many patents get filed. They also notice when the federal government holds an invite-only auction for a host of impressive next-generation technologies.”

“Should I expect the world to beat a path to my door?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at the man again, a trace of sarcasm in my tone.

Shaw chuckled again. “No, most people just think it's Howard being Howard again and Roosevelt putting his finger on the scales to keep the man from getting too big for his britches. Then again, most of them are from established old-money families and businesses at this point. That sort of familiarity can breed a certain... incurious nature. No need to go looking for answers when the questions never occur to you in the first place, after all.”

I could see his point, though if Shaw had hunted me down I didn't have any faith he'd be the last. And someone would be stupid enough to sell information about me. I was kind of thankful I'd be on the front lines again soon. That kind of politicking reminded me too much of the clans' shenanigans when Sattsuki too the hat-

I pushed the thought away and buried it.

I was about to reply when Sebastian continued, making it transparently clear he was the type of man who loved the sound of his own voice. “It took a bit more digging before I was able to arrange a meeting with Senator Truman. He and I are something of friends, you see... both men risen to our current stations from humble origins instead of standing as heirs to economic or political dynasties. It wouldn't do to recount the details of our meeting, 'matters of national security,' I think he said. Interesting phrase that. Almost as interesting as the person he said he learned it from and... when they learned it.”

I wish I could say I was surprised, but... well, American politics had always had something of an incestuous relationship with American industry. It made a lot of sense that Truman, even as a senator, would have friends in high places for campaign funding and networking. The man was less of a political beast than was typical for a man of his position, but that hardly meant he didn't know how to play the game.

 I looked over Shaw's curious and measuring gaze now that he'd finished his self-inflated monologue. “Well, you found me. I'll assume you didn't come all the way into the basement of the British Museum just to say hello?”

Sebastian nodded, reaching into his vest to remove a card. “You'd be correct in that assumption. I came for... multiple purposes. The first was simply to introduce myself. The second was to give you an invitation for a private club-”

I took the offered square of reinforced paper, a neatly embossed address and nothing else. Though the words reflected the light with a color reminiscent of a wavering flame. I looked back up at Shaw and nodded. “The Hellfire Club, I'll presume?”

His eyes widened reflexively and his genial expression dropped for a more serious one. “I... suppose I shouldn't be all that surprised, though it says poor things about our group's ability to stay hidden if someone so casually knows of its existence.”

I tucked away the card. “It's nothing quite that bad. Where... when I come from, the Club is mostly a rumor, if a persistent one. Most serious authorities disregard it as a figment of obsessive minds, but there's a sizable following dedicated to tracking the truth down.”

“I see... well, that's good to know, if nothing else.” Shaw stated, rubbing at his goatee. “Still, you stand to become a very wealthy and powerful individual after the war ends, Ray. With such a position comes an... obligation to connect with others in similar positions, to better coordinate responses and stabilize economic interests. No one benefits from moving about large sums of money or large stock purchases without suitable warning. Those are the kinds of things that can cause panics.”

Basic insider trading stuff, that's par for the course.

“Once things wind down with the war, I'll need some time to set up a place of residence and fill out all the necessities of life, but I'll be sure to call ahead once I'm ready to make an appearance.” The promise wasn't empty, even. I wanted to see what version of the Hellfire Club I was dealing with and get a membership roster. Just in case they were actually interested in some inane goal like world domination and I had to make a clean sweep.

If your potential enemies want to line up and introduce themselves to you, don't stop them.

“We can help you with those problems, if need be,” Shaw offered and I made a show of thinking it over.

“I'll keep it in mind, but I'll likely want to build my own house. There are a few more... esoteric components that I might need to source, though. If I run into problems, I'll certainly keep you and your friends in mind,” I promised.

“Very good, that's all we ask,” Shaw nodded, then paused. “The other goal of my visit was... well, somewhat different before we shook hands. I'd originally thought you to be just a very well trained individual with a few tricks, but... to use your own title, you are a newtype, aren't you?”

I chuckled and shook my head. “I'm afraid not. Life would be easier if I was. My situation is... a bit more complicated.”

Shaw's expression turned pensive. “Really. Then that energy you possess?”

“It's mystic in origin, which is all I'll say on the subject,” I cut him off, holding up a hand. “Just as I don't feel obliged to interrogate you on what is obviously your own gift, I'll ask you to allow me my own privacy.”

Shaw clearly wanted to press, but nodded. “In that case, I suppose this point of discussion does become somewhat easier.” His gaze intensified. “It would inconvenience many powerful people if the government started taking an interest in those with gifts, as you put it. We'd like to politely request you keep your disclosure to a minimum on that front. We acknowledge that what has been released can't be taken back, but further information... it could be perceived as an implicit threat against certain communities.”

Which, on the one hand, for a group that had everything to lose by being 'outed' so to speak, was a fair ultimatum to hand down. More than fair, really. I'm sure someone in the club likely wanted the leak 'plugged' in a more permanent fashion.

On the other hand, hiding won't work forever. I need them to think I'm their ally so that, should it come to it, they won't see my sword coming.

“May I offer a bit of advice from someone who's read a few books and watched a few documentaries on this subject?” I asked neutrally.

Shaw's demeanor shifted slightly from his threatening posture and he nodded silently for me to continue.

“Newtype secrecy is, historically, founded on two principles,” I began, carefully weaving a half-lie. “The first is the rate at which they appear in the general populace. It's a small enough number of births, only one in every few hundred thousand, that creating a community which can interbreed and produce more of itself has been difficult. Current data puts the global human population at somewhere between two and two-point-five billion. Earth will reach three billion by nineteen fifty, in just six years. After that, we'll hit four billion in the seventies, five billion in the eighties, six billion in the late nineties, seven billion in the early twenty-tens, and eight billion sometime in the twenty-twenties.”

As I continued, Shaw naturally seemed to grasp my point as his expression turned more and more thoughtful. “I see. While those numbers seem... somewhat inflated by modern sensibilities, I can understand where you're going with this. As the human population increases, the newtype one will naturally do so as well. With more people inhabiting the world and more newtypes occurring within that population, it's only a matter of time before we're found out.”

I allowed him another moment to digest the data before he turned to regard me again. “You said there were two factors?”

I nodded.

“The second is a simple matter of disbelief. While some people do believe in the supernatural, very few do so in a tangible way that affects their decision-making process in the day-to-day world. You have to materially prove that such things are real and affect them before they will start reacting to them. That is the domain of technology.”

“Go on...” Shaw didn't quite order, rolling his hand at the wrist joint.

“The nineteen-fifties will see the proliferation of the television, but the programs will all be staged and broadcast from studios. In the sixties, technology advances to the point where larger studios can field reporters to do on-site interviews and lesser companies will do so by the end of the decade. In the seventies, that changes to being able to deploy reporters and cameras to desolate locations far from any infrastructure to report on events live as they happen. In the eighties, it becomes possible to network various different companies across the world to bring the viewer information being filmed by crews in Africa, South America, the Middle East...”

Shaw was nodding slowly to show he followed me as I went on.

“Additionally, in the late seventies and eighties, you start to see the proliferation of the handheld video camera, which can record audio and visual feeds to cassettes. It's no longer solely the domain of the wealthy hobbyist or the corporation to create documentation of events. These camera-recorders become smaller and more portable in the nineties at the same time that connectivity skyrockets with early telecommunication grids, allowing video sharing by average citizens over long distances and even internationally.”

Shaw understood precisely where I was going now, as evident by how intently he was staring at me.

“By the year twenty-ten, a good portion of the global population has a device the size of a cigarette case that they can pull out of their pocket on a moment's notice, record sound and images, then post them to an electronic cloud of data where they can be seen by tens or hundreds of millions of people in the span of hours, if even that long.”

Sebastian stilled at the final pronouncement, now trapped deep in thought.

However, I wasn't done.

“The technology that I've given out? It's advanced the current state of the art by twenty years. With the information I'll be giving the government, the very information that you plan to profit from, you can expect humanity to be at least thirty years more developed than they would otherwise be by the sixties. While I understand the desire to keep things as they have been, Mr. Shaw, the future is coming, one way or another. I won't pretend that I'll be immune from criticisms of witchcraft or inhumanity, but fighting for my nation in their hour of greatest need? That builds trust, that provides a record of service both they and I can hold up in my defense. Your community? The people you represent? They should keep that in mind.”

Shaw gave me a wary look, not frightened so much as a measured alertness of my existence. “You've given me a lot to think about, Ray Winston. I'll... be in touch.”

The larger man gave me a parting nod and turned to retreat, a look of deep contemplation on his face.

 I allowed the slightest smirk to cross my own.

Maybe, just maybe... I won't have to kill you, Sebastian Shaw.

~~~

...wow that got away from me. Over 4k words, huh.

Well, you guys get extra content for the last April chapter and an interesting back and forth with Sebastian Shaw. That, surprisingly, ends without a fight. Though it comes close once or twice.

Next up is... Nexus Event, I think. Need to work on that one a bit.

In the meantime, I'll be getting the monthly poll up for May in an our or two after I go public with the next EM chapter on QQ.

Please wait warmly.