Worm

by wildbow

  “Sundancer could do it, probably, but she would need convincing. Labyrinth’s going to set up while we wait for Scrub,” Tattletale replied.

  “Where is he?”

  “Bit dangerous to have him riding along in a car. We put him in another, and he nuked the engine. We rigged a sled, and he should arrive in a bit, depending on how many times they need to stop and replace the chain,” she said.

  “He’s going to open the door?”

  “Open is probably the wrong word.”

  “What’s the right word?”

  “I’d say it’s more like using a battering ram than a doorknob.”

  “With dimensions,” I said.

  “Through dimensions. Knocking down the door, not knocking down the house.”

  “I’m not seeing the difference between the two,” I said. “What’s to say a given area is one thing over another?”

  “That,” Tattletale said, “is Labyrinth’s job.”

  I could see Labyrinth. Faultline was right next to her, apparently talking her through the process. Arches and high walls rose like cresting waves, locking into place as they met one another. It amounted to what looked like a church, if only four paces in diameter.

  “You think that’ll be easier for Scrub to punch through.”

  “Positive,” Tattletale said.

  “How do you punch through to the right place?”

  “That, Tattletale said, “is something we’ll have to trust to luck and an educated guess.”

  “Not reassuring,” I said. “What’s going on? I’m worried. Nearly getting yourself shot, twice? Provoking the Triumvirate? Spending however much it costs to bring Faultline into the city, after the financial hit you took pulling the soldier gambit on Coil? Now this? The dimensional hole?”

  “It’s how I operate.”

  “Yeah, you’ve been reckless before, got cut by Jack, provoked Glory Girl. But this is turning the dial to eleven.”

  “We came out ahead in the end, both times.”

  “It wasn’t necessary. There were other ways around either of those situations.”

  “Not as much as you’d think,” Tattletale said.

  Echidna roared again, each of her mouths making a slightly different noise, combining into a discordant noise that made almost everyone present wince. Weld tore his way free of her side, two capes in his grip.

  Still five captives inside, I noted. I saw Weld climb free and drop to the ground. He wasn’t going back in for more.

  Tattletale took me by the arm and led me back and away from the fighting, to where we had more privacy to speak. I used bugs to guide some capes at the back lines toward some clones who’d flown into an alley. It was odd, to be playing a part in a high-speed chase while standing still, but the capes were closing the distance on their quarry nonetheless.

  “I’m just looking for answers,” I told her. “This dimensional hole, provoking the heroes, apparently spending a lot of money I’m pretty sure you don’t have. I… I can kind of get that you’re feeling a bit aimless, a bit unfocused. Maybe that comes across as recklessness. I’m feeling like that too. We beat Coil, and so much of what we’ve done over the past while, it was with the end goal of doing just that. So I get if you’re not sure of where to go from here.”

  “Except you’ve been talking to the heroes, and you’ve had that to help center yourself, figure out where you stand,” Tattletale said. “I haven’t.”

  “That’s it? You need to talk to someone?”

  “No. That’s not what I’m saying,” she said. She sighed. “Yes. Kind of. It’s only part of it. Who the hell am I going to talk to that grasps things on a level I do? Do you really expect me to find a therapist and sit down and not pick him apart faster than he can decipher me?”

  “You could talk to me,” I said.

  “Not when you’re part of the problem, part of what I’d need to work past.”

  “That’s not fair,” I told her.

  “No, it isn’t,” she admitted.

  Echidna spat out volumes of clones at the defensive line. The reaction was only a little slower than it should have been. Squads still weren’t operating as squads. Legend and Eidolon were offering support fire from above, but they were standing apart from the rest, in a much different way than Tattletale and I were.

  “It’s not you,” Tattletale said. “It’s more about my relationship with you.”

  “This isn’t the point where you confess your undying love for me, is it?”

  She snorted. “No.”

  “Then what? Or is this just going to be another secret you keep?”

  “All of the good secrets are getting found out anyways, or so Regent said. I suspected they would be, for the record. Part the reason I dished like I did was to put us in a good position in case the juicy stuff did come out.”

  “Not sure I buy that,” I said.

  “You don’t have to. It was only a part of it. And I understand if a more in-depth explanation is overdue, but I need to turn it around in my head some, get it to the point where I can share it without it coming out wrong.”

  “Your trigger event?” I asked.

  “That’s a part of it. But can we please put that off until after we’ve torn a hole in reality and stopped the pseudo-Endbringer?”

  “Just tell me this isn’t another educated guess.”

  “It’s not. Except for the bit where we might be able to find the right universe.”

  “When you’re saying it’s not an educated guess, is that because you’re sure or because it’s an uneducated guess?”

  “I’m mostly sure.”

  I sighed, loud enough for her to hear.

  She grabbed my hand and pulled me in the direction of the van she’d brought. Labyrinth’s church had expanded considerably, and Scrub was very deliberately keeping his distance, keeping the company of Gregor the Snail, Newter, Shamrock and Spitfire. They looked a little the worse for wear, with burns, scrapes and bandages. Had Tattletale pulled them away from a job?

  “Hey, F,” Tattletale said, smiling.

  Faultline didn’t return the smile. “You’re aware that I’m going to track you down, beat you to a pulp and leave you tied up for the authorities to collect if we don’t get our payment?”

  “You’ll get your payment the minute I have access to a computer Shatterbird hasn’t toasted,” Tattletale said. “No sweat.”

  “I’m harboring serious doubts,” Faultline said. She glanced at Echidna, “But I can look at this situation, and I understand if there’s a rush here. How does this work?”

  “Really simple,” Tattletale said. “We should get Labyrinth clear, though. Then I’ll show you.”

  Faultline gave her a look, then hurried to Labyrinth’s side, dodging a wall that was erupting from the ground to fit into the greater structure. The ground surrounding the temple-like tower had changed, with an ornate inlay of what looked to be artificial flowers. The petals were gold leaf, the stems the black-gray metal of iron. The thorns, I couldn’t help but notice, were real, like needles, sticking out of the ground. Dangerous ground to tread.

  As Faultline led Labyrinth to safety, I put one hand on Tattletale’s shoulder to get her attention. “You sure?”

  “I’ve got a theory. With the clues on the passengers that we got not so long ago, about the powers, the idea of how the things work, I’m getting a sense of the bigger picture. I think I could spend a decade working it out, but the basics of it? I think there’s a lot of powers that are a lot more versatile than their owners are aware, because they never get the opportunity to leverage it.”

  Above us, Legend followed through on one cape’s attacks, opening a wound in Noelle’s side. Grace leaped in as the laser stopped, grabbed a cape that had been exposed by Legend’s attack, then kicked herself free, bringing the cape with her.

  Another cape exhaled a cloud of what might have been acid vapor in Noelle’s direction, apparently to slow the healing of the wound. It didn’t make much of a dif
ference.

  “Based on what?” I asked Tattletale.

  “It’s all part of a whole,” she replied, absently. Her focus was on the others. “Scrub! Get closer to the tower! Everyone else, get back! Labyrinth, don’t use your power any more! Hold off!”

  Heads turned. People had no doubt noticed the tower, but now something was happening.

  Scrub stepped closer, and one of his explosions ripped through the air. Another followed shortly after, intersecting one area of altered road.

  Like a gas in the air that had been ignited, the entire thing went up in a heartbeat. In an instant, it was a white void, as undefinable as Grue’s darkness, perceivable by the edges, but with zero depth or dimension. He’d shunted out the entire structure, as well as everything that had altered on the ground, but nothing had come back.

  The door had been kicked out of the frame.

  To look at it, I’d almost expected a rush of wind as the void on the other side sucked everything into it, like the vacuum of space. There was only the sensation of a breeze as the air flowed into it.

  Alexandria landed next to us, with enough force that I nearly lost my footing. Every set of eyes that wasn’t on Echidna was on us, now.

  “What did you do?”

  “Made a hole,” Tattletale said.

  “Apparently. You didn’t ask? You didn’t consider the ramifications of this? Close it now.”

  “Who said we could close it?” Tattletale asked.

  “You’re a fool,” Alexandria said. She set one hand around Tattletale’s neck. She could have killed Tattletale with a squeeze, but she didn’t. A threat.

  “I’d be careful,” a cape growled, from the periphery of the scene. I didn’t recognize the man. He wore a costume in orange with red metal claws. Alexandria turned to look at him, and he added, “Wasn’t so long ago that your partner called us all fools.”

  In the background, Echidna screeched. She fought her way forward through the crowd, but the battle lines were holding, now. Our side hadn’t been surprised, this time, and the only capes in her reach were capes she couldn’t absorb. The rest were staying well back.

  She wasn’t an Endbringer, in the end. It would be impossible to trap any of them like this, to get an advantage. They had other tools, ways to exert pressure that were entirely independent of their own abilities. Behemoth generated storms and background radiation, Leviathan had the waves, the Simurgh had her scream.

  “That wasn’t him,” Alexandria said. “It wasn’t Eidolon who said that.”

  “Close enough,” the cape said. “Let her go. You can’t throw around authority you don’t have.”

  “As of this moment, I am still Chief Director of the PRT, and I am the leader of the Protectorate team that overlooks the second largest city in the United States. That hasn’t changed. At the end of the day, I’ll face any consequences I have to, but for now, I’m still in charge.”

  “Your authority doesn’t mean anything if they don’t accept it,” Tattletale said, staring Alexandria in the eyes. “Put me down.”

  “I can’t let this go any further.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed,” Tattletale said, “there’s no further to go. It’s pretty much gone. All that’s left is to find out whether this is a useful trick we just pulled or a really useful trick.”

  “Useful?” Alexandria asked.

  “Worst case scenario, it’s a place we can dump Echidna. A place where she won’t be able to hurt anyone.”

  “Or?”

  “Or Labyrinth figures out that she can work with this.”

  The hole blurred, colors consolidating into forms. I could see Faultline standing by Labyrinth, arms folded.

  “Labyrinth… the shaker twelve,” Alexandria said.

  “That’s the one,” Tattletale said. “Mind letting go of my throat?”

  Alexandria let go, but settled her hands on Tattletale’s shoulders. The implied threat was still there, just not so imminent.

  “It’s deep,” Labyrinth said. Her voice was faint, as if from far away. “There’s so much there. Worlds that I didn’t make.”

  “All parts of a whole,” Tattletale mused. “Okay, Labyrinth. The world we’re looking for isn’t very deep at all. In fact, it’s very, very close to the surface. When you push into that world, it’ll feel easier. Like a path that someone’s already walked, more than once.”

  “There’s two like that.”

  I would have missed it if it weren’t for my bugs. Alexandria reacted, stiffening, a slight straightening of her back.

  Behind us, Echidna roared and threw herself against the barrier of ice and forcefields that surrounded her.

  I turned toward Alexandria. “What?”

  “I didn’t say anything,” she responded. Her hands still rested on Tattletale’s shoulders.

  You didn’t have to, I thought. But I wasn’t sure how to use the information, and I didn’t want to distract anyone from the subject at hand.

  “Look,” Labyrinth said. “One’s like this…”

  The image shifted. I wasn’t the only one who walked around to get a better view through the window. The landscape on the other side the window was different, the grassy hills that had been Brockton Bay before settlement, the distant beaches. There were houses, but they were squat and blocky, half-overgrown.

  Again, the slightest reaction from Alexandria.

  “…And here’s the other.”

  Another landscape. A city, like Brockton Bay, with different buildings. Intact, undamaged. It looked like a back road, one that didn’t get much in the way of traffic. Apparently the streets in that Brockton Bay were in different places.

  “Earth Aleph,” Tattletale said.

  The Travelers’ world?

  “Are you insane?” Alexandria asked. “There’s sanctions, treaties, truces. If you open this hole to Earth Aleph, it could mean a war between universes.”

  “If that war was possible,” Tattletale said, “we’d have had it already. The possibility of a whole other world of resources is too much to pass up. Sure, our side has more raw firepower, by a factor of a hundred, but their side has just as many nukes. It’s a zero sum war.”

  “You don’t understand what you’re getting into.”

  “What I understand is that accidents happen, and everyone in earshot will call this particular interuniversal portal as an accident, because it keeps things peaceful. I also understand that this keeps Brockton Bay on the map. Any other circumstance, people are going to keep trying to scrap this city, to accept that it’s too costly to rebuild, that the criminal element holds too much power. They’ll throw bill after bill out there until the right combination of people are in power, the right hands can be greased, and Brockton Bay gets bulldozed and paved over.”

  “It still could,” a cape said.

  “Oh, sure, theoretically,” Tattletale said. “But there’s really two options here. Either we spread the word, and a whole sub-industry explodes around this simple little doorway, accessing and trading information between worlds, research, a mess of other stuff, a city full of residents who’ve put up with disaster after disaster get work, get their homes rebuilt, and ultimately get their second chance.”

  “Or we keep this a secret,” I finished her thought, “And we get none of that.”

  “Or we keep this a secret,” Tattletale agreed. “We do what Alexandria wants, and everything stays hush hush, just the way the big bad secret organization likes it.”

  I could see the capes around us paying attention. Ten, fifteen capes, from cities all across America and Canada.

  “You have no idea what you’re doing,” Alexandria said.

  “Fucking you over?”

  “You’re putting everything at stake. All of us, this world. Even if we ignore the chance of our very first interdimensional war—”

  “Traitor!” someone shouted from the sidelines, cutting her off.

  Alexandria turned her head to try and identify the culprit. I got the impre
ssion she wasn’t used to people insulting her. There were more capes nearby. Miss Militia had backed up, but was keeping her eyes on the spot where Echidna was trapped. On the far side of the clearing where the gateway stood, Gregor the Snail escorted a bound Sundancer and Ballistic to the periphery of the area.

  “I can’t help but agree with Alexandria,” Faultline said. “This is reckless.”

  “More than a little,” Tattletale agreed. “But I’m not sure you heard the full story. I only heard it secondhand, and I was with you from the time your helicopter arrived. When we last ran into Newter, you guys were looking for dirt on Cauldron. You still looking?”

  Faultline’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  “No less than ten minutes ago, Eidolon’s evil double admitted full culpability. The Triumvirate, much of the upper levels of the Protectorate. Kidnapping people from other universes, experimenting on them to figure out some power-inducing formulas, dropping them here. Might help you to understand why people are giving Alexandria the evil eye.”

  Faultline glanced at Alexandria. “A little too easy, to find out like this.”

  “It’s not the full story,” Tattletale said. “Not by half. But it should inform your call on whether to side with her or not.”

  Faultline frowned. “That’s not… no. Maybe she is the person behind the scenes. Fine. But that doesn’t change the fact that she might be right. Better to have Labyrinth find another universe to link to. Maybe one where a mountain is blocking the other side of this gateway, if we can’t close it.”

  “Why do you have to be so reasonable?” Tattletale asked. “That’s the worst of both worlds.”

  “It’s not war,” Faultline retorted.

  “Stop,” Chevalier said. People parted to give him room to enter the clearing. “There’s other concerns. The deal that was described to me was that the Travelers would do what they could to eliminate Echidna. Failing that, we find a way to move her through the gap and deposit her in a place where she can do no harm. That’s our first priority.”

  There was a murmur of agreement.

  “Want to go home, Sundancer? B-man?” Tattletale asked. “Genesis? Oliver?”

  Ballistic, Genesis and Oliver stared at the opening. Sundancer was shaking her head.