by wildbow
“I’m not getting that vibe,” Tattletale said.
“But he’s figured out how to trick your power,” I pointed out.
“Any solutions?” Grue asked.
“Yeah. I’ve been working on one, but I’m not sure it’ll work.”
“Share?”
I extended one hand, and a wasp took flight, bearing a trio of spiders. It was forced to turn and fly in circles to slow its forward movement to account for the speed at which the spiders were spooling out thread. The ends of the thread were already wrapped around one of my fingers.
It took a minute before they reached the other formation that was doing the same thing. I began reeling in the thread, until I’d raised a length of cord to the edge of the roof.
Bitch ventured over to see what was going on, and then spun around, “No.”
“My first night out in costume, I got stuck on top of a building. I’m not going to make the same mistake twice. We called Thomas Calvert, he agreed to meet us, but just in case he decides to level the building rather than have a conversation, I want us to have a way down.”
“A way down?” Grue asked.
“I’m pretty sure I got the lengths right. I hope I got the lengths right, because I used up a lot of silk here. Eight cords, we each hold one, or tie one around our waists, and then jump off the side of the building. Swing out over the intersection.”
“Awesome,” Imp said.
“Pretty sure?” Grue asked.
“Pretty sure,” I admitted. “I’ve tried to stagger it, so the silk stretches out over horizontal lines I set out between buildings, so we aren’t just dropping straight down to the street. But it’s elastic, and I can’t account for how much stretch there’ll be in the material. Or how much stretch won’t be there.”
“And if he’s got gunmen, too? We’re left there dangling out over the middle of a street?”
“It’s one option,” I said. “One. We’ll have your darkness so they won’t necessarily have clear shots.”
“And you have your bugs,” Regent said.
“Our opponent here knows exactly what we can do. He’s worked with us and observed us for weeks. Excepting Imp and I, he’s worked with you guys for months. Over a year. So no, he’s not going to do something like underestimate the range of my bugs. He’s going to have snipers that are just beyond my usual range and I won’t be able to fight back.”
“Your relay bugs?” Regent suggested.
“Dying. But yeah, I’ll bring them out. I suppose a night like tonight warrants using up the last of their reserves.”
“And you can fly,” he said, pointing straight up, where Atlas was in the skyline, circling around a stationary Shatterbird.
“I can, but I’d almost rather use the cords and swing down to the street level. If I’m flying and they get a lucky shot off, I’m pretty fucking screwed. They hit me, Atlas won’t ease me to the ground. They hit Atlas, nothing I can do to stop falling. Besides, being on the ground means I have the utility Atlas brings to the table. Being mounted on him means he and I are essentially one unit.”
“I think you’re overthinking this, dork,” Regent said.
“No,” Grue and I said together. Grue didn’t say anything more, but I added, “We plan for every possibility and we’re wrong? We don’t lose anything. If we plan for a situation that does come up? We’ll be glad we did it.”
“You’re going to drive yourself insane worrying about it,” he retorted.
“If she hasn’t already, I don’t think she will in the next ten minutes,” Tattletale said. “You sense them on the ground, Skitter?”
I shook my head. “My power’s radius is like a bubble, and the bottom end isn’t covering that much ground. I should have been waiting at a spot lower in the building.”
“They’re on their way up.”
I could sense them as they reached the base of the building. Thomas Calvert would be the man who led the way, and the men who followed him were outfitted in PRT gear.
It took time for them to ascend. The building was only partially complete, with floors, some walls and the steel skeleton of beams with tarps stretching between them for the remainder, but no elevators.
Without discussing it, we arranged ourselves on the rooftop, preparing to meet them. I was a little surprised that Grue and Tattletale positioned themselves so they were each just a little behind me, with Imp, Bitch and Regent behind them. Bentley prowled at the perimeter of our group, three-quarters of the way to his typical ‘monstrous’ size and slowly growing.
Thomas Calvert was the first to cross the threshold. Annoying that the first time I would ‘see’ Coil unmasked, I would be blind. He waved one hand to brush away my bugs as they passed over him, but I managed to pick up the essential details. Close cropped, coarse hair, trimmed eyebrows, thin lips and a cleft chin. He wore the body portion of a PRT uniform with an insignia stitched onto his sleeve that I couldn’t make out with my swarmsense.
Most of the squads remained below, but he was joined by a handful of soldiers and three young men in plainclothes, one of whom looked like a bodybuilder.
“Yo, Frenchy,” Tattletale said. “Sup?”
One of the uniforms nodded a slight response. Was he backed up by a ‘PRT’ squad or two consisting of his hired mercenaries?
“Undersiders. After your last interaction with Director Piggot, I assumed you would want to speak to me and try establishing ground rules?”
“We know it’s you, boss,” Regent said.
My bugs caught the slightest exhalation from Director Calvert’s nostrils, a minor expression of annoyance. “The Travelers were a little more circumspect.”
“Circum-what?” Imp asked. I couldn’t tell if she was genuinely wondering or if she was being intentionally obtuse.
“Tone it down, guys,” I said. They’re the types to go after any weakness in authority figures. They’ll nettle him until someone gets in trouble. “Director Calvert. Would it be too much to ask for you to ask your squad to wait downstairs?”
There was an extended pause before he offered a slight nod to one side. His squad turned to return downstairs, and I followed them as they took position by the base of the stairwell.
“I asked you to stay out of costume until further notice,” he spoke.
“With all due respect, Director,” I said. Tattletale had coached me; I would stroke his ego by reinforcing his new position. “I was injured as a bystander in Coil’s attack. I wouldn’t have been hurt if I’d been costumed. Until everything cools down, I think my team and I will play it safe.”
“I see. I can respect that. Nothing serious?”
“Serious? Yes. But it’s nothing life threatening and nothing that can’t be fixed.”
Thomas Calvert reached beneath the armored panel of his vest and withdrew a small remote. He stared at it for several long seconds before putting it away. That done, he clasped his hands behind his back. It was a position that was very ‘Coil’. It was obvious and direct enough that I suspected he was dropping his Director persona and admitting his true nature. “My apologies. I am not infallible.”
You let a dozen or more people die and left twice that many people injured in some way. No, you’re not infallible.
I kept my mouth shut.
“I just checked for listening devices. You aren’t recording this, which means I can answer any questions you have.”
“How much of that was planned?” I asked.
“More than you might suspect. Every person in that room who was not in the audience was accounted for. Mr. Grove and Mrs. Padillo were selected and recruited well in advance. Circus and Chariot were hired nearly a year and a half ago, their actions and development in the public eye carefully orchestrated. Über and Leet were recent acquisitions. I needed a heavy metal suit that could carry a package, and Trainwreck died at an inconvenient time. Most reporters were selected and stationed well in advance, claiming the rear of the room where they would bear the brunt of the attack, so to
speak.”
“They didn’t die?” I asked.
“As with Circus, Über and Leet,” Director Calvert nodded in the direction of the three individuals in civilian clothes.
“Wait, Circus is a guy?” Regent asked.
“Depends on your definition of guy,” Tattletale said. “If you’re talking biological or what Circus identifies as. Not that I have it pinned down; I can’t tell if you’re a guy posing as a girl when in costume or a girl who poses as a guy when in plainclothes.”
Circus spat, directing a loogie to shoot a horsefly out of the air. “I’ll take that as a compliment, I guess.”
“The three of them and most of the reporters were removed from the premises in time,” Coil said. “The reporters, as I said, were plants. I needed news reporters in place who would be sure to catch the details I wanted them to catch. Some editing of the footage just prior to it being sent to the news stations served to smooth rough edges and highlight key points.”
“Making Piggot look worse, for example,” Tattletale said.
“Among other things. Appearances are one of the most important things, here. With Chariot’s help, we created a rough emulation of Trickster’s power. The reporters were swapped out, a sufficient amount of raw biological matter was swapped in.”
“Human matter?” I asked.
“That is what the paperwork will say, which is the most important aspect,” Director Calvert answered me. “Rest assured, no serious harm was done. Circus’s abilities allowed us to place the knives in nonlethal areas. Better that Director Piggot looks as ineffectual as possible than simply perish. The same applies to the mayor. Thomas Grove and Mrs. Padillo will recover, but Thomas Grove will concede the election, supporting Mrs. Padillo, despite his strong showing. It will help shake the notion that things were staged.”
“But they were. Every part of it,” Tattletale said.
“Every part of it.”
“The bomb?” I asked.
“The sabotaged power supply was real, but Über’s metal suit housed a teleportation apparatus to detect when it was removed from the premises, so a replica could be brought into the lobby. The initial detonation was little more than light and a shockwave primed to make the most of the Manton effect, leaving my agents with little more than bruises and scratches. They were teleported out, as I already said, just before the final, true detonation. We estimated how fast the evacuation would proceed and calculated a blast radius that would leave the building standing and the crowd largely untouched.”
I could remember Tattletale mentioning how there were less killed or injured than I might have thought. Had she guessed this much?
“Every action I’ve carried out has been carefully weighed, with attention given to the aftermath. Circus, Über and Leet will be leaving Brockton Bay with a sizable reward for their efforts. I don’t expect they will need to return to a life of crime, but I believe they will use a different identity and modus operandi if they do?”
He’d made it a question, and Über answered, “Yes, sir.” I could feel Leet and Circus nodding.
“Good,” Director Calvert spoke. To us, he said, “It just isn’t worth killing good help. Should my ultimate plans here fall through, it’s better to have individuals like them on reserve.”
“And us?” Grue asked.
“Your part in Brockton Bay isn’t entirely over, yet. I established you here for a reason. As Director, I will lead a slow but successful campaign against Brockton Bay’s villains. The Travelers will be the first. I expect a strike squad of my PRT agents will catch them off guard, but they will ultimately escape capture.”
“How unfortunate,” Tattletale said.
“Indeed,” Director Calvert replied. “Doubly unfortunate if other villains should establish a presence in Brockton Bay’s south end, forming a loose alliance with the Undersiders, who maintain a firm hold on the flourishing North End. Oh, rest assured, you Undersiders will lose your hold on this city over the course of months, but it won’t be quite as bad as it sounds.”
“We’ll avoid being captured, probably,” Tattletale said. “Or we’ll get captured and break out before there’s an issue. And then we don’t come back to Brockton Bay. We wind up establishing presences in nearby cities. One or two Undersiders with a firm grip on a given city with other villains under us, establishing a new kind of villainy, and you, Director, as the valiant hero on the opposing side. Your power grows in a way the public is very much aware of, and, well, we’re not losing quite so much as it seems, so your power grows in other ways too.”
Thomas Calvert spread his hands, “It seems you have a firm grasp on what’s going on. I won’t waste our time reiterating. Any questions?”
“Why become PRT director?” Grue asked. “Why not mayor?”
“All eyes will be on the mayor after the recent fiasco. Mr. Grove will serve as a red herring, drawing all suspicious eyes to him before he defers the election to Mrs. Padillo. Besides, who would you rather rule? A dozen capes or fifty thousand unpowered civilians?”
“I see,” Grue said.
“The fear this event creates among the public will make requisitioning additional capes and resources that much easier. The remnants of Coil’s personal army will remain in the city, a sub-gang of highly trained individuals who will serve as an excuse for why the forces of the Undersiders do not grow beyond a certain point.”
“You said the Travelers will be the first to be ousted,” I said. “Does that mean you’ve found a solution to their problem?”
“No. But we have several last resort answers, and those will be exhausted soon.”
With my bugs, I noted Tattletale making a hand gesture. Left index finger and middle finger pressed together, she tapped her thumb against the tips of the other two fingers.
“Any other questions?” he asked.
“Dinah,” I said.
“Mr. Grove’s concession to Mrs. Padillo will involve an offer. He will push for his constituents to support Mrs. Padillo if she accepts his terms. Among these will be a restoration project for the North End, employment stimulation for the laborers and a restoration of the ferry service. In exchange for your continued cooperation, I can give you executive powers in naming the measures you’d like to see pass. I am well aware of what I agreed to, but I would offer this as a compromise in exchange for a one year delay on that term of our contract.”
“No,” I told him. “I’m sorry, but you’ve got to let her go.”
“Then I will. I’m disappointed, but I won’t have it said that I’m not a man of my word.”
My heart was pounding. Just like that?
Director Calvert clasped his hands in front of him, “How would you have us resolve this? I can return her to her family, or pass her on to your custody.”
I didn’t think this far ahead. “Her family, then.”
“Very well. With your permission, we’ll release her to her parents, with some covert surveillance to ensure she does not reveal any details of my greater mission.”
“Okay.”
“My officer will take you to her.”
I hesitated.
“Your teammates can join you, if you don’t feel secure.”
Grue placed a hand on my shoulder.
“Thank you, Director,” I said. “I don’t mean to impugn your sense of honor, but I didn’t expect this.”
“I have a healthy respect for paranoia, Skitter. Go. Tattletale, could I borrow a few minutes of your time? The Travelers grow anxious, and you can offer some more answers about Noelle’s situation.”
Tattletale turned our way, “Your call, guys.”
“Take Regent and Shatterbird with you,” Grue said.
“You sure?”
“If he respects paranoia, he’ll respect the fact that I’m as worried for your well-being as I am for Skitter’s.”
“Aw,” Tattletale gave Grue a pat on the cheek, “You’re not a very good liar. I appreciate the sentiment, though.”
I felt en
tirely out of my element. For weeks, months, I’d been bracing myself to hear Coil say no. To hear him say ‘I promised I’d consider it’ or ‘I promised to release her when my plan reached its conclusion, and that won’t happen for another year.’ I didn’t know what to do with my hands. If I’d had pockets, I’d have jammed them in there, but I didn’t. My belt didn’t really suit itself for me hooking my thumbs in there. I didn’t even trust myself to speak, with the possibility that I could say something to ruin this.
No, it was better to be on my guard. I swept the area for threats, with bugs on every set of gloved hands and every weapon.
But the PRT uniforms climbed into their vans and the doors slammed shut.
Director Calvert stayed at the gates that marked the construction site from the roads beyond, Tattletale and Regent beside him.
“In the truck,” the remaining PRT officer told us.
“If it’s alright,” I said, “we’ll ride.”
He looked to Coil, who nodded.
I climbed onto Atlas, and Grue settled behind Bitch on Bentley.
It was a fifteen minute flight, following the truck, and I was on edge for every second.
We stopped outside of a brick building, and the driver of the truck stepped out. I swept the area with my bugs, then swept it again. The interior featured modest living accommodations, a squad of armed soldiers, a man who wasn’t armed and a little girl.
I set Atlas down and waited outside, bugs poised to attack. The door opened, and the soldiers stepped out, parting to let Dinah go free.
The little girl stepped out, hesitant, then stopped. Nothing gave me any indication that she was unhealthy or hurt, but she wasn’t lively either. She was dressed in a skirt, sweater and uggs, her hair thick with chemical smells that told me it had been recently washed.
“Want to go home?” I asked. I reached out.
Her hand found mine, and I clutched it tight.
Couldn’t leave on Atlas. I turned, and she stepped to follow.
