Worm

by John Mccrae Wildbow

  “Oh. Might be it,” Kevin said. ”Surprised he came with you here. I thought- I almost thought he wouldn’t, because I had you along. It made me feel better.”

  “Why? Why avoid him?”

  Kevin didn’t take his eyes off the golden man. ”He scares me. He chose me to listen to, of all people. I’m the most powerful person in the world, just because of that. Because I can tell the strongest, most capable man in the world what to do.”

  “And you ran?”

  “It took me a while to realize what I’d set in motion. I started hearing about him. Word on the street, newspapers, radio. The golden man saves a small island from disaster. The golden man interrupts a burgeoning war. But it wasn’t until that damned clip began playing on the news that I realized what I’d gotten into.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “He’d visit regular, right? Stop by, like he was checking if I had anything else to say. Maybe I’d tell him to be more gentle with people when saving them from a car crash, or after that horned bastard came climbing out of the ground and the golden man flew right past it to visit me, I told him he needed to help next time, to fight that monster and anything like it. But sometimes I didn’t have anything to say, and it’s not like he obeys my every instruction down to the last detail, so sometimes he’d hang out here at half past four in the goddamn morning, and I couldn’t get rid of him, so I’d just talk.”

  “Talk?”

  “About whatever. A book I’d gotten my hands on. Current events. The generosity of strangers. Or I’d fix him up some clothes so he looked decent and talk about the clothes.”

  He fell silent, watching the golden man.

  “What happened?”

  “He never responded, barely ever paid attention when I opened my mouth to ramble about whatever. But he was following the general orders I gave him. Help people, do this more, do that less. But I’m in the middle of talking to him about my childhood, about home, when he latches on something. Head turns, eye contact. Scares the shit out of me. I go over it all over again, but it was five in the bloody morning and I couldn’t remember exactly what I’d said. That is, I couldn’t until three days later, I happen to be in the right time and place, and I see a television in a store playing this clip that’s cropping up on the news. The golden man says something for the first and last time. Everyone seems to think he said Scion, and they latch onto it. They’re wrong, but it sticks, and the word appears on t-shirts and in music and people are talking about it here, where I live. All because of one thing I said in some ramble of mine, the whole world changes.”

  “That’s what scared you?”

  “It was the wake up call. Stupid, isn’t it? Trivial.”

  “No. Nothing’s trivial when you’re talking about him.”

  The golden man had turned his eyes towards the river, his back to them.

  “What did you say, if the word wasn’t Scion?” Lisette asked.

  “Only realized later. Was talking about home, religion and family. Talking about a memory from my childhood. Don’t even remember it that well, now. But the word he paid attention to was Zion.”

  “That’s Hebrew, isn’t it?”

  Kevin nodded. ”Don’t know. Don’t know the language, it was something to do with a cousin of mine getting in trouble when we were thirteen. Don’t know why he fixated on it. But he did, and around the same time that clip started playing, they were talking about the things he’d done. How he was still the most powerful person out there. It’s terrifying, because all that power was at my command, mine to order around. Because a filthy, do-nothing loser like me can change the world with a word.”

  “You’re not a loser. You told him to help people.”

  Kevin nodded grimly.

  Her expression changed. ”You’re not going to change that, are you?”

  He shook his head. ”Golden man!”

  The golden man floated around to face him square-on.

  “I’ve screwed up, waiting so long to talk to you. But I’m here now and there’s two things we got to discuss.”

  There was no response. Only the motionless stare.

  “This is a hard one, because I really want to be wrong, here. If this works, then it means my stupidity and my cowardice cost people big. Means I could have fixed something much sooner. Was only about the spring before last, I got a chance to use that newfangled internet. Took some time to learn, but I read up on you. Saw video of how you were fighting…”

  “Kevin?” Lisette asked.

  “Those Endbringer motherfuckers. I told you that you need to stop them, that you need to fight and protect people. And you have been.”

  He clenched his hands, stared down at the ground, “And god help me, maybe I wasn’t specific enough. Maybe I didn’t realize you’d interpret me literally. We need you to kill the things. Destroy every last trace of them, throw them into space. Don’t know. But fight to kill, don’t just… God, I hope I’m wrong, that I’m remembering the words I chose all wrong, and that you didn’t hear my suggestion and take it to mean you should fight for fighting’s sake, or fight to stop them, but not to stop them for good. You understand? Don’t just stop them from doing what they were doing. Stop them permanently.”

  The golden man hovered in place, so still it looked like he was frozen in time, standing in the air.

  “My god, golden man, I’m praying you understand. Took me a year to get up the courage to do this, because I was afraid of this. If that was the problem, and you kill one of those bastards, then I just- I just saved countless people, and the blood of every person they’ve killed in the meantime is on my hands.”

  “Kevin,” Lisette spoke, her voice quiet. Her hands settled on his shoulders.

  He ignored her, “The other important topic? I’ve run out of time. Middle aged, and my liver’s done in. Never really drank, because I had to feed that dog over there. Never did any drugs, besides smoking fags. But I got the hepatitis somehow. Bad blood in a hospital, or someone else’s infected blood got mingled with mine on a night some kids decided to pick on a homeless man and I fought back. Running into you the way I did, golden man, and having you stop to listen to me? That was a one in a gazillion chance. Getting this disease was another, might be. Meeting you was the best and scariest part of my life, maybe it’s the same with the disease, a blessing in disguise. Maybe it was, aside from this young lady’s help, the only reason I was able to find the balls to come here.”

  The rain wasn’t as violent or as heavy as it had been. It made for an audible change in the patter of water on stone and water on water.

  Kevin sighed. ”I’m here to get my affairs in order, and you’re most important after Duke. I want you to keep doing what you were doing. Help people. Try to communicate with the good guys more. I told you to do that before and you didn’t listen, but you should. And if there’s a problem, if you need someone to listen to, someone to visit from time to time, look for this young lady. Lisette. Because she’s good people. She’s a better person than I am. Braver. Has to be braver, if she’s stopping to talk to a homeless motherfucker like me, following him someplace.”

  “No,” Lisette said, “I couldn’t.”

  “Shitty thing for me to be doing,” Kevin said, turning to look over his shoulder at her. ”This burden. But I somehow feel better about this than sending him to go obey you than telling him to go listen to and obey the Suits, or the Protectorate, or Red Gauntlet, or whoever. You think about it, figure out what you need to, decide what he needs to be told.”

  “You think he will? He’ll come to me?” Lisette asked, her eyes were wide.

  “Don’t know, but I think he might. Don’t know why he picked me to listen to, but he did. I could’ve reminded him of someone he used to know. Or he just up and decided we were friends, maybe. With luck, he can be your friend too.” Kevin sighed, “You two got it? You’re partners now.”

  Lisette couldn’t bring herself to speak. The golden man didn’t respond either, didn’t even m
ove to glance at Lisette.

  The golden man hovered in place for long, silent seconds, and then took off, faster than the eye could see. Only a golden trail of light was left in his wake, quickly fading.

  In mere seconds, Scion was gone.

  “We have to tell someone,” Lisette said.

  “You can try. They’ll look at you the way you looked at me. Like you’ve lost your mind.”

  “But- but…”

  “Yeah,” Kevin said. ”Not so easy, is it? Maybe if you’re lucky, he’ll show up when others are around, and they’ll believe you when you talk about it.”

  He sighed. ”Come on, Duke.”

  Lisette didn’t resist as he grabbed Duke’s leash. Kevin started walking away.

  “I don’t understand!” Lisette called after him.

  Kevin didn’t turn around or stop walking as he raised his voice to respond over the sound of the pouring rain. ”Good deal, isn’t it? Ten pounds to become the most powerful person in the world.”

  18.03

  Miss Militia didn’t respond. She stared down the length of her gun at Tattletale. I could believe that if we gave her cause, any of the rest of us were an instant away from getting shot. We had bulletproof armor, but there wasn’t anything saying she wasn’t using the fanciest armor-piercing rounds. Her power supplied whatever hardware she wanted.

  “We didn’t take Vista,” I told her.

  “It doesn’t make sense,” Tattletale said, “We’d take her, do that sort of damage, and then come back? Approach you guys peacefully?”

  “I’m beginning to see why Armsmaster was so frustrated with you, Undersiders. Every time we run into you, we’re left in the dark, vast amounts of information missing from the overall picture. There’s always surprises. So I’m paying very close attention to what you are saying. Case in point, you say Vista was taken, and not murdered.”

  “I don’t think she was killed,” I said. Tattletale nodded.

  “That’s good to know,” Miss Militia said. She sighed, “When you’re going on the offensive, there’s nothing held back, you don’t pull any punches, short of murder… and you apparently came damn close with Triumph, Skitter.”

  Triumph folded his arms.

  She continued, “If you’re not trying to kill us, you’re approaching us with open arms, asking for help, putting us in a situation where we can’t accept without breaking our rules, but refusal comes at a cost.”

  “It’s that second bit,” Imp said. Some of the heroes wheeled around to find her standing on the opposite side of her group. I managed to hide my own surprise. Imp added, “We’re here because we need help. This is a nasty one, too.”

  Miss Militia turned back to me, and her voice was a little harder. ”I thought so. It’s your pattern. Except there’s always information missing. Information withheld. You said you were indirectly responsible for this?”

  “You caught that,” Tattletale said. She looked at me. ”Should we dish out the dirt?”

  “Yeah,” I said. ”Have to anyways.”

  “Full disclosure,” Tattletale said. ”We were working for Coil. The Travelers were too.”

  Miss Militia didn’t move a centimeter. Some of the other heroes did.

  “He’s dead, in case you weren’t aware,” Tattletale said. ”And the Travelers are a little upset, because they were counting on him to help them out.”

  I could imagine Tattletale smiling. She’s misdirecting them. They think he died at the debate, but she’s talking about the real death. The death at my hands.

  Miss Militia shook her head. ”I doubt this was the Travelers. We heard howling, and this wasn’t Genesis. Analysis of her file by some of our top guys suggests she has limits to the strength of whatever forms she’s chosen. Strong, yes, but not enough to tear half the wall off the front of a building in the time the witnesses described. I would, however, believe Hellhound’s dogs could do it. Besides, Genesis has never been on record shapeshifting to resemble someone or something.”

  Never? I thought. She crafted her bodies in a dream state. I knew she’d made a body that resembled her real self, but the rest… Did it take too much effort to get the aesthetic details exactly right, to the point that it cost her in other departments?

  “When the Slaughterhouse Nine attacked,” I said, “Do you remember who they targeted?”

  “Armsmaster, Regent, Hookwolf, Panacea. Two more. With the appearances Mannequin and Burnscar made in the Boardwalk, we belatedly discovered Hellhound was another, and we were theorizing you were the last of them, Skitter.”

  “I got in their way too many times,” I said. ”But they didn’t want me. But the last one was Noelle.”

  Her gun shifted a fraction towards me. I wasn’t sure she was aware she was doing it. “Noelle?”

  Tattletale spoke up, “The Travelers have two other members who don’t see much action. Oliver handles their day-to-day stuff. Finds and prepares places for them to settle down, gets food, looks after Noelle. Noelle…”

  “New York,” Miss Militia interrupted. ”She’s the one that’s responsible for the disappearance of those forty people?”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised,” Tattletale said.

  “The reason the Travelers have been operating like they are,” I told Miss Militia, “Going for the quick and easy cash grabs and constantly moving, it’s been for her sake. Trying to find someone who can help. They found Coil, or Coil found them, and they thought they had the answer they needed. Except now Coil’s dead. Noelle’s snapped, and it’s very possible Vista was her first captive.”

  “What does she-” Triumph started. He stopped as Miss Militia raised one hand.

  “You’re good at this, Undersiders,” she said. ”But I do learn my lesson. I won’t get caught up in your story, I know you’ll have to give me the details, if this situation is as serious as you say. But let’s postpone that for a minute. Why don’t you start off by explaining how you’re indirectly responsible for this.”

  I turned to Tattletale. She gave her head a small shake.

  “What aren’t you telling us?” Miss Militia asked.

  “Stuff,” Tattletale said. ”Surrounding the circumstances of Coil’s death. But getting into the particulars would create more problems than it solves, for you guys and for us.”

  “I dunno,” Assault said, from behind Miss Militia, “I doubt staying quiet is going to help you much.”

  “Did you have something to do with the explosion at the town hall?” Miss Militia asked, and there was a note of anger in her voice, “The way things went wrong? The deaths of those reporters, the injuries sustained by the retired Director and the candidates?”

  “No,” I said. ”I swear on everything I stand for that I, we, didn’t play any part in planning or setting that in motion.”

  “You can understand if we don’t take you at face value on that, nice as it sounds,” Assault said.

  “If it helps,” Tattletale said, “Get your hands on the evidence from the scene, some of the blood and bits from the bodies. Send them out of town. Discreetly. Get another lab to run DNA tests.”

  “Why?”

  Tattletale shrugged. ”It’s pig meat. Almost all of it. Glued together with transglutaminase. Human bone, and human blood, probably, but if you look for it, you’ll find antifreeze.”

  “Antifreeze?”

  “Glycerol. It’s how they store it at blood banks.”

  “You’re saying it was staged,” Miss Militia said. ”Despite the fact that we had Wards on scene, innumerable witnesses.”

  “Despite that.”

  Miss Militia straightened a fraction, “And of course, we can’t check it now. So you’re expecting us to work with you in the meantime, help you with whatever problem you’re suggesting you’re partially to blame for setting in motion, and when the lab tests come in, long after the situation’s resolved, we’ll find you were lying.”

  Assault added, “And somehow, conveniently, you come out ahead when all’s said and do
ne. A handful more of your enemies injured or dead.” There was a hint of emotion punctuating the end of the statement. Battery.

  “Telling the truth,” Tattletale said.

  “This situation’s serious,” I told Miss Militia, “And if you do what we’re suggesting, I can assure you, we don’t wind up in a better position at the end of this.”

  “Why’s that?” Miss Militia asked.

  It was Grue who answered her, breaking his silence with his deep, eerie voice, “Because we’re recommending you call in the big guns. Call in everyone.”

  “Class S threat,” Tattletale said. ”Or damn near.”

  The tip of Miss Militia’s gun wavered as she started to react and then stopped herself. Neither she nor any of the heroes moved or spoke for long seconds.

  When she did speak, she said, “There’s six class S threats active in the world at large. The Endbringers make up three of them. The Slaughterhouse Nine as a group are a fourth. You’re saying this Noelle is on par with one of them?”

  “She’s a nascent Endbringer,” I said.

  “Bullshit!” Triumph shouted, not a half second after I’d said it.

  “Fuck me,” one of the Wards said. It was only after he opened his mouth again that I saw it was Weld. ”Please tell me this is another one of Tattletale’s mind-games.”

  “Explain.” Miss Militia demanded.

  “She’s maybe a nascent Endbringer,” Tattletale said. ”It’s one theory. Her powers are transforming her, and she’s getting less human, getting tougher and more desperate every day. Coil was keeping her contained, with heavy vault doors and promises of a fix. Now she’s free and she’s pissed.”

  “And this hypothetical individual has Vista?” Clockblocker asked.

  “It’s very likely she has Vista,” Tattletale confirmed. ”Coil’s precog said she wouldn’t cause any real damage until dawn. That’s… one hour and twenty-nine minutes from now. I guess this kind of incident doesn’t count as anything serious.”

  “You have Coil’s precog in your custody?” Miss Militia asked. ”Dinah Alcott?”