by wildbow
I drew in a deep breath, then nodded.
“You’ll wear a tracking device at all times, and any time you leave the defined area within the Chicago headquarters, you’ll have an escort, a longstanding member of the team in your company at all times.”
“Okay,” I said.
“See to it that you follow these rules. You’ve got the backing of the heroes here, maybe you’ve got the public’s favor, but we will remove you if you give us an excuse.”
“I understand,” I said, suddenly very weary.
Beside me, Glenn stood from his chair. I took his cue.
The PRT uniforms stepped out of the doorway, where they’d been barring the small crowd access. We made our exit, joining the Wards and PRT staff members.
“Weaver,” the Chief Director called out.
I turned around.
“You didn’t make any allies in this room today.”
“I think you were my enemies before we even met,” I said. “You’d never have given me the chance to be your ally.”
“You’re wrong.”
I shrugged, then turned to walk away.
Tecton gave me a nod as I approached.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Not a problem,” he said. “You kept us alive, I figure we owe you one.”
“I don’t think you owe me much, but I’m not complaining,” I said.
“We should go. We were in the middle of something. See you soon, I hope?”
“Yeah,” I answered.
When they’d broken away, it was Glenn and I, together.
“That was foolish,” Glenn commented.
“They wouldn’t have given us any slack. Nothing we could have said or done would have changed the outcome, unless we attacked from a different angle.”
“There’s a habit some people have,” Glenn said. “Where they divide people into enemies and allies. It’s in your records, as a matter of fact, your propensity to define people as enemies and act without mercy, while being gentle and kind to your friends. The Chief Director is another person who is very similar. Pairings you two together, you could have been great allies or great enemies, but there’s not much middle ground. It’s a shame you have a powerful enemy, now.”
“I still don’t see how we would have been friends.”
“I don’t think you would have been. But humiliating an enemy is a dangerous thing. Doing it again would be terminal. You’ll need to be clever about your approach from here on out, so you aren’t threatening them to the same degree.”
“I’m too tired to strategize any more, Glenn.”
“Think. What’s motivating the Directors? First thought that comes to your mind.”
“Fear.”
“Of?” he asked, without a heartbeat of hesitation.
“Me?”
He shook his head. “More specific. If they don’t act now, what happens in the long run?”
“They can’t control me.”
“People would recognize it, that the PRT didn’t have the ability to control all of its heroes. Some would act on it. It would be devastating, damaging on a fundamental level.”
“Isn’t that what you wanted?” I asked. “Your ‘harbinger’?”
“It is. Can you guess what I’m going to suggest, now?”
“You want me to make a move. Powerful enough to shake them, break the status quo, not powerful or blatant enough to break my probation or give them an excuse to drop the book on me.”
“You’ll be with the Wards by the week’s end, if someone doesn’t trip you up. Do you think you can manage it? A big success?”
“Maybe,” I said.
“The moment you drop out of the public eye, you become vulnerable. You’ve got a reprieve, but when you do act, you’re going to need to act big. And you can’t stop once that’s happened. Once you act, you’ll be giving them an opening, and you have to keep moving after that. Understand?”
“Yeah.”
“Keep the ramifications and the scale of your actions in mind at all times. Use that strategic brain of yours. Above all, be patient.”
* * *
“Now hearing case two-seven-two-four, Weaver.”
I stood. “I’m here.”
“For the matter of committee record, would you affirm that your full name and identity are a matter of public record, and that the committee is free to use it?”
“I will.”
“Will you state your name for the record?”
“Taylor Hebert.”
“Your date of birth?”
“June nineteenth, 1995.”
“You are a minor.”
“Yes.”
“Will you testify that you were not coerced into this arrangement?”
“I’m here of my own free will.”
“You were not offered any bribes or incentives that are not already a matter of record?”
“To the best of my knowledge, it’s all been aboveboard.”
“As a minor, we ask that you have a guardian or respected professional to help guide you through the process, and to help verify what you’re testifying.”
Before I could speak, I heard someone’s chair scraping against the floor somewhere behind me. Standing up. “Her father.”
I felt my heart leap. I hadn’t seen him when I’d peeked through the crowd behind me, but I hadn’t been using my bugs either. No use disturbing anyone. I kept my eyes fixed in front of me.
“Would you please approach?”
I could hear him walk, but didn’t turn to look. Fuck, I was still hurt, still angry, even in the moment I was filled with relief. He came to stand next to me, and my hand found his. I squeezed, hard, and he squeezed back.
He was here now, at least. Not while I was in prison, not when I’d started my forays into the Wards. But he was here now.
“Your name?”
“Danny Hebert.”
“State again for the committee record, your relation to her?”
“I’m her father.”
“You’re aware of her standing in regards to the law?”
“I am.”
“And you’ve read the documents detailing her probationary status within the Wards? Document two-seven-two-four-A?”
“I have.”
“You’ve read the statement and accompanying paperwork provided by Taylor Hebert, AKA ‘Weaver’, document two-seven-two-four-B?”
“I have.”
“Do you hereby attest that all statements disclosed in the latter document are the truth, to the best of your knowledge?”
“Yes.”
I watched as the committee members paged through the documents in front of them.
My heart was pounding, and it wasn’t just my dad’s impromptu arrival. This was it. The moment my future hinged on.
I’d made enemies in the upper echelons of the PRT. The question was whether they’d pull a maneuver, do something sneaky to undermine me or screw up the case to leave me stranded without anyplace to go but jail.
“I believe each of us have reviewed the files?” the man at the center of the table finally spoke, looking to the others for confirmation. “Case two-seven-two-four has met the requirements for probationary admittance to the Wards. She is to follow the stipulations as outlined in document two-seven-two-four-A. Failure to comply will result in a return to medium security detention for a span of one and a half years or until such a time as she turns eighteen, whichever is longer. Further, failing to meet the terms for probation will result in a forfeiture of any earnings or rights granted her by the PRT, which will be held in trust until such a time as she reaches the age of majority. Do you understand these terms?”
“Yes,” I answered.
“Yes,” my dad said.
“With that, you are now a probationary member of the Wards, until such a time as you turn eighteen or violate the terms of your probationary membership. Congratulations, Taylor Hebert.”
There were cheers from the sidelines. Tecton and his group we
re among them.
“Next case,” the committee members said.
My dad and I retreated into the aisle. We made eye contact for what felt like the first time in an age.
“Thank you for coming.”
“I wasn’t necessary. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t have someone else lined up.”
“It matters, dad. More than you know. Thank you.”
“Is this fixable? Us?”
I frowned.
“What?” he asked. He opened the door so we could step out of the committee room and into the hallways of the PRT office.
“I’ve kind of come to hate that word. ‘Fix’,” I said.
“You don’t think—”
“I don’t,” I interrupted him. “We can’t fix ‘us’, society can’t be fixed. It’s impossible.”
He frowned. “I don’t think it is.”
“Things change. Destroy them, rebuild them, you’re just causing change. Can’t we… isn’t it okay if we don’t try to go back to the way things were?”
“You don’t want to be a family?” he asked.
“I do. But… we tried to go back, after the city started to rebuild. It didn’t feel right. It was nice, but we were playing roles, and there was more stuff unsaid than said. Lies, unasked questions. Kind of unhappy at the root of it, you know?”
“I know.”
We found an empty bench and sat down. I could see the Chicago Wards stepping out into the hallway, but they kept their distance. Revel made her way out the door a few seconds later, and started talking to them as a group, at the opposite end of the hall.
“You’re so far away,” he said. “Doing things I can’t even imagine, facing serious danger, even on a more mundane level, the way you’re going to be living at the headquarters. It’s a fourteen hour drive.”
“Can’t we visit, though?” I asked. “Send emails every day, videochat?
“We can. I’ll come see you at the headquarters before I leave for home, see how you’re getting by. Maybe, if you need me to, I can pick up some essentials. Things you wouldn’t want to ask them for, or things they wouldn’t know your preferences on.”
I wondered momentarily if my dad even know what my preferences were, nowadays. I didn’t voice those thoughts. At the same time, I meant what I said as I told him, “That sounds amazing. Yes. Please.”
He smiled, but the expression faltered as he glanced a little to one side. “I think your team wants to talk to you.”
I nodded. “Talk to you in a bit?”
“Tomorrow,” he said.
“Tomorrow,” I replied, standing from the bench. The Wards had turned to face me.
When I approached Revel and Tecton and the others, I cast a glance back. My dad was still sitting on the bench.
It wasn’t perfect, but it was a step forward. It had to count for something.
* * *
“This space was for vehicles, but Stardust graduated three years ago, died a year after joining the Protectorate. We’ve been using it for storing paperwork, and your moving in was a good excuse to get some things sorted out. Your workshop.”
I nodded, doing my best to maintain eye contact. Campanile was about eight feet tall. I’d been given a complete physical and fitness test right off the bat, and I was five feet and nine inches tall.
The height difference put my eye level just a couple of feet above Campanile’s hip level. He wore a skintight suit, and there was little left to the imagination. I thought I might have seen a ridge or a vein, in that split-second I’d glanced down to make sure my eyes weren’t fooling me.
If I were more well adjusted, I would have been embarrassed, even offended. Instead, I almost wanted to laugh. Neither would have done well in terms of first impressions.
Focus on your bugs, I told myself. Look interested.
“Talk to Tecton before you grab anything from the build room. That’s where we keep all the panels, portable walls and furniture for customizing our spaces. Tools and everything would be down there too, but it’s easiest to let Tecton keep it all in his workshop. He’s our only tinker, and it’s not any harder to ask him for something than it is to go all the way to the basement.”
“Got it.”
“You’re distributing this stuff to other groups, right? The silk?”
“After I’m done outfitting my team, and you guys, our Protectorate.”
I’ll give Campanile thicker fabric below the waist, maybe, I thought.
“Well, there’s a budget, so negotiate with Tecton on that front. We all use the account, but the rest of us usually just dip into it to replace broken pads or lenses, stuff like that. Tecton pays for materials, which is usually enough to empty the budget, but he makes and maintains knick-knacks and tools that he rents out to other groups. Earns a bit of money to make up for taking an unfair share.”
“Got it. I can do the same? Selling the silk?”
“Yeah. Might be easier, since your stuff can be mass-produced.”
I stared out at the workshop, glad for the excuse to look away. Did he know how tightly the costume was clinging to him below the waist?
“It’s good,” I commented on the workshop. Better than the one in my old lair.
“Your bedroom isn’t with the others at the hub, since there’s not a lot of privacy there, and people are always coming and going. It’s more a place to kick back and nap if you’ve had a long patrol, keep some books and magazines, maybe some games. You do have a nook, though.”
I nodded. Maintain eye contact.
“You’re just down the hall. Here.”
I checked out the bedroom. It was better than my cell, but plain. The fact that I could come and go when I pleased was a plus, even if I was confined to the building when I didn’t have an escort.
“I can buy stuff to make it my own, right?”
“Yeah. But you should know that they’ve got cleaners to do the PRT supplied laundry, sheets, pillows, towels, the generic skintight suits. You’ll have to do your own laundry, and that includes any sheets you buy or whatever.”
“Got it,” I said. I very nearly glanced down to make sure the protrusion in his skintight outfit was still there, stopped myself. Even in my peripheral vision, it stood out. Seriously, that thing’s as long as my forearm.
“Computer’s here. PRT issue laptop. Take some time, remove the crap. If you don’t know how, or if you’re not sure what’s dead weight on the system, ask Tecton. Username is your codename, password to start with is your birthday. Month-day-year, followed by your middle name. Once you type that in, it’ll set everything up automatically and prompt you for a new password.”
“Okay.”
“You’ve got a small bathroom just down here,” he pointed down a short hallway, “No shower, sorry. There’s one in the main area, not a lot of privacy, but you’ll figure out the patrol schedules, and figure out when you can go shower without a chance of being bothered, if you’re shy.”
Shy. I very nearly cracked a smile at that. He was the one who should be bashful, but he just radiated confidence, instead.
“I’ll manage.”
“Let’s see… there’s the phone and earpiece, they’ll get that to you soon. Identification, the same. Can you think of anything you need?”
“A few million Darwin’s bark spiders,” I said. “I could do with even just a hundred, but it’d mean a slow start.”
He didn’t even flinch. “We can probably arrange it.”
“Black widows would work too. Easier to find, but not nearly as good. Maybe just need an escort so I can go out for walks.”
“We could arrange that. I’m going out in an hour, meeting some kids at the hospital. If you don’t mind the detour, we could swing by a park or something.”
I tried not to imagine him in the pediatric’s wing of a hospital. You’d need to change. Or wrap something around your waist.
I didn’t voice my thoughts.
“The hub is right down here, bottom of the stairs. Command
center, nook-slash-temporary bedrooms, spare costumes, televisions and everything else.”
Tecton, Wanton and Annex were at the bottom of the stairs. Grace, Golem and Cuff were sitting at the computer bank against the one wall, but they were watching. Grace had a wicked smile on her face.
I realized why. The bastards. They were pulling the same trick Campanile had, stuffing something in the front of their costumes. Tecton, for his part, wore a mechanical suit, so he’d simply bulked out the crotch portion of his armor with additional armor plating. Obvious, not even trying to hide what they were doing. Wanton gave me a cheeky smile as I made eye contact with him.
For my part, I managed to keep my expression straight.
Over the course of seconds, Annex seemed to get more and more uncomfortable. I made eye contact and maintained it as he squirmed.
“She’s not reacting, and I’m feeling really, really dumb,” he said.
“Aw, Annex, c’mon,” Wanton groaned. “She would’ve cracked up.”
Grace was laughing, now. Cuff, by contrast, wasn’t moving her eyes from the computer screen. She was probably the ideal target for this kind of prank.
“Don’t sue me for sexual harassment,” Annex told me.
I smiled a little. “I’m not going to sue. I’ve been around people who did worse.”
“It seemed funnier when we were talking about it before,” Tecton said. “It’s… kind of awkward, right now.”
“It is funny,” I said, smiling, “You guys did get me, I was so busy trying not to stare at Campanile that I barely heard what he was saying about the tour.”
There were a few chuckles.
“I was thinking it was a bad idea,” Golem said. “With your background, that you might not like being picked on. They gave me one, but I thought it was a bad idea to test you.”
“It was a terrible idea,” Tecton said. “Juvenile. But sometimes you need a cheap laugh.”
“They’re embarrassing themselves worse than they’re embarrassing me,” I told Golem. “I’m okay with it. I’m glad to have an initiation into the group. Could have been far worse.”
“Alright guys, joke’s over,” Tecton said. He unclasped and removed the metal codpiece from his armor. “She’s right. We’re just embarrassing ourselves now. Get rid of the damn things. And I don’t want to see them lying around anywhere.”
