Worm

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Worm Page 304

by John Mccrae Wildbow


  It took thirty more seconds for the foam to dissolve. She broke the hug and he tore himself free of the scraps. They were out of the basement and walking through the ruined interior of Accord’s household in moments.

  They stepped outside into the evening air. Colin let the vents in his costume open so the cool air could flow through. Dragon luxuriated in the feel of the air against her exterior body.

  Her hand caught his as they walked to where the Uther and her own suit were waiting.

  Colin stopped in his tracks. Dragon’s suit was posed with its head pointing toward the sky. The suit’s metal jaws were clamped around a body.

  Manton.

  “The Siberian is dead?”

  “Gone would be a more appropriate word,” she said. ”Manton is dead.”

  Colin nodded and exhaled slowly. ”Good work.”

  “The job’s not over yet.”

  The Uther’s cabin doors opened to invite him in.

  19.04

  “I was perfectly happy,” Scapegoat said, “Being able to tell myself that hey, the news is blowing things out of proportion. There’s no way Brockton Bay is as scary as they’re making it out to be. Dragon suits get sent in and are promptly forced out, but really, the mayor‘s telling Washington it’s safe enough. The media got something wrong, or they’re making little problems sound bigger than they are. See the piles of dead bodies where this girl-”

  “Echidna,” Tattletale supplied.

  “Where Echidna spat out clones. Okay. I can live with that. An unusual power and strong parahuman. Could be an exaggeration. See the destruction, the ruined buildings and the streets that still haven’t drained a hundred percent. More or less what I expected from the news. The girl with the mutant dogs? Bug girl? Still manageable. But she opens her mouth,” Scapegoat pointed at Tattletale, “And pop goes my bubble of happy self-delusion.”

  “You want to tear a hole in reality?” Tecton asked Tattletale.

  “I do. I want to use Scrub’s power in conjunction with another power that draws heavily on accessing other worlds. It’s why I contacted Faultline’s crew. They’re our best bet. Myrddin might work, but he’s unlikely to cooperate. Scapegoat could work too, but I think it’d take too long, and it might need a human sacrifice, having Scrub hit someone who was heavily affected by the goat’s power.”

  Regent nudged me. “With Grue gone, it’s your job to lay down the law. No human sacrifices.”

  He’d mimicked Grue’s tone of voice, with a forced lowness.

  No human sacrifices? Did I really want to veto any possibilities, when we were faced with threats like the Endbringers and Echidna?

  “You’re not saying no,” Regent commented.

  “Tattletale,” I said, “What’s the point? Why open a hole like that?”

  “It’s a place to put Noelle, for one thing.”

  “We can stop her other ways,” I said. “She’s not invincible.”

  “Yet,” Tattletale said.

  “Yet. We can put her down. With Legend, Eidolon and Alexandria alone, we should be able to do enough damage that she can’t keep regenerating.”

  “Maybe. It was hard enough before. We’ve got big guns, now, but it’s going to be rough. It’ll be a lot easier if we have the Travelers on our side, and we’ll have that if we can give them what they want. A way home.”

  “A way home?” Tecton asked.

  “Cauldron’s the group responsible for plucking people from their realities, wiping their memories and leaving them changed, marked with a tattoo,” Tattletale said. She glanced at Gully.

  I did too. Gully’s eyes were wide behind the curtain of braids.

  “And the Travelers, far as I can figure, are the same. Only they still have their memories, and they weren’t altered in appearance. It’s like Noelle got her entire group’s share,” Tattletale said.

  Gully slammed her shovel into the ground, but she didn’t say anything as seconds passed.

  “You want to tear a hole in reality to send them home?” Tecton asked.

  “It’s the best bargaining chip we have, short of a cure for Noelle.”

  “How do we even know which world it is?”

  “We don’t, but we can ask,” Tattletale said. “What I’m getting at is that this is our best weapon, our best bargaining chip and our best tool. If I’m right, if I‘m close to right, then this is a way to shut powers off at the source.”

  “Assuming you have a way to kill or break the connection with these things you’re describing,” Tecton said.

  “I’m assuming we can get our hands on some weapon of mass destruction,” Tattletale said.

  “Too many potential disasters,” Tecton said. “Listen, I get it. I’ve been where you are. There’s a lot of tinkers and some thinkers who’ve been where you’re at right now. Who’ve had that brilliant idea with the power to change the world, for better or for worse. Most of us stop at that line. We have to.”

  “This isn’t changing the world,” Tattletale said. “This is going to the heart of every single damn problem we’ve been facing and surgically removing the most dangerous parts. We can access the places where the powers are coming from and shut them off. It’s an answer.”

  “If you can manage the risk,” Tecton said. “And I don’t think surgically is even close to being the word you want. With tears in reality, it’s equivalent to using explosives with a yield you can’t even guess at.”

  “I’m a good guesser,” Tattletale said.

  “And this is the part where I cut in,” I said. “We’re short on time, and I have stuff to see to. Why don’t you guys talk this through, and I’ll collect supplies with Scapegoat in the meantime.”

  “Go for it,” Tattletale said.

  “I’ll come,” Rachel told me. “Too much fucking talking.”

  “We can’t let Scapegoat leave in the company of two known, dangerous villains,” Tecton said.

  “Send someone with us,” I said.

  “Gully and Wanton, then,” Tecton said. “If that’s alright, Gully? We’ll watch your prisoners.”

  “I’ll ask,” she said.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “Atlas isn’t far from your territory,” Tattletale said. “Head a little north, and you should find him with your range.”

  I nodded.

  Gully gave me a thumbs up, her phone still pressed to one ear, and we headed to the van. Wanton was the only one who could fit in the driver’s seat and who had a license.

  With Gully and Bitch both in the back, I figured it would be safest to ride with them. Rachel was managing better these days, but a fight between her and one of the heroes could spell disaster.

  It took a minute for all the dogs to climb into the back of the vehicle. I used the time to gather my bugs in nearby buildings, where I could collect them on my return trip.

  Rachel wasn’t feeling talkative, Gully seemed lost in thought, and both Wanton and Scapegoat were in the front. That left me to get a discussion going, and I was too tired to bother. I closed my eyes, arranging my bugs into an arrow on the dashboard of the van. They rearranged themselves into a right turn sign to steer him toward Lord street, and from there it was relatively smooth sailing.

  Someone had given the order for evacuation, and people were being directed to the shelters. We had only two indications that things would get any worse. Tattletale’s gut, which wasn’t a sure thing, and Dinah, who’d indicated that there was a good chance a large portion of the city would suffer at Echidna’s hands.

  Or, even, not specifically at her hands. With our luck, it would be Tattletale’s plan that leveled half the city and we’d find out that Echidna was permanently trapped beneath the rubble, not even a consideration.

  Twice, I nodded off, my head starting to drift forward, before the sudden movement of my bugs stirred me fully awake. The interior of the van was warm, dim and the vibration was oddly soothing.

  The third time I drifted off, my bugs didn’t catch the movement. My
head leaned back against the wall of the van, and I slipped into the twilight state of near-sleep.

  It was the appearance of Atlas that brought me back to my senses. I signaled for Wanton to stop the van.

  He was inside a garage, so still I thought he might be dead. Without ingrained instincts, he had only the barest minimum of processing. Enough to breathe, at least.

  He hadn’t eaten in twelve hours. I was sure to feed him a supply of the less essential bugs from the area, moving them straight into his open mouth. I could reach my lair, and drew out every single one of the bugs I had stored there, calling them to me.

  He would be weak, I noted, but at least he wasn’t hurt. Coil had probably ordered for Atlas to be left alone for much the same reason that he’d carted the giant beetle to this area. Doing otherwise could have clued the other Undersiders into what was really going on.

  Wanton opened the back of the van, and I stepped outside. Gully emerged as well, likely due to curiosity as much as anything else.

  Atlas, at my bidding, found his way past the closed and unlocked door, made his way outside and flew to me.

  When the giant beetle dropped out of the sky to land just beside the van, Wanton briefly shifted into his other form, and Gully raised her shovel protectively in front of her.

  My bugs flowed over Atlas’ carapace, and I used my hands as well, checking there was no damage. Scrapes and gouges on his underside. Had they lifted him into a truck to transport him? My gloved fingertip ran along the length of his scythe-like foreleg. Maybe I needed to take the time to give him more care, sharpen the natural weapons, tend to his shell…

  I blinked a few times. I was tired, and my lack of focus was dangerous. Time was short.

  “Are your dogs well enough to run?” I asked Rachel.

  She was still in the truck, sitting on one of the benches that were built into the side. She hopped down to the street, the dogs milling around her. “Probably.”

  “Then let’s go,” I said. I stepped onto Altas’ back, but I didn’t take a seat. I let him rise into the air, and I drew all the bugs in the area to me. I didn’t settle into a sitting position until I was obscured from view.

  I couldn’t move too far away from Scapegoat. I was tethered to him by an invisible, intangible cord, about one hundred and fifty feet long; about half a city block.

  Still, provided I was directly above him, it let me fly about eight or nine stories above the ground. I wasn’t untouchable, but I was safer.

  “…Hear me,” Wanton spoke.

  My bugs spelled out the word ‘yes’.

  “Creepy,” he said. “I need …rections.”

  There were two possibilities that sprung to mind as far as what that last word might be. I guessed it was ‘directions’ and pointed him back to Lord street. I wanted as many of the good bugs as I could bring, but I was limited in how many Atlas could carry and I doubted the others would be keen to see them packed into the back of the truck.

  Instead, I drew out lines of thread, ferried the slower moving bugs onto my back, and loosely bound them. Bugs strung out on silk cords, like kindergarteners did with popcorn on thread. The rest found shelter in the folds, compartments and creases of my costume.

  I kept close to the ground as I followed. Had to stay close to Scapegoat and I couldn’t trust that Atlas had enough energy to carry me until we’d flown a bit and I could see how his stamina was.

  My hair and the tatters of my costume flapped behind me as we flew, clumped together in parts with the fluid that I’d been soaked with while inside Noelle. I had bugs crawl over both to devour and separate the worst of it. The ones on the threads that trailed behind me with the faster flying insects were surviving, which was key.

  The little tasks kept me awake, if not entirely focused. I was caught off guard when I let the van miss a turn. If a good shot of adrenaline didn’t wake me up, I might be at a disadvantage in the coming fight.

  I got that kick of adrenaline sooner than I’d wanted. We reached the clearing where the others had been and found it empty. The Travelers, Tattletale, Regent, Scrub and the heroes were gone.

  I landed, and the van doors opened. Bitch stopped just beside me, Bentley at full size and the other dogs standing maybe three feet tall at the shoulder.

  “Gully, you have an armband. Have the heroes communicated anything?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “Can you do me a favor and see if anyone has answers on where Tattletale and the others are. For now, we should head back to the perimeter.”

  “You’re giving orders?” Wanton asked.

  “Consider it a suggestion,” I said. Gully had been pleased at the semi-promotion, with being put in charge. I could concede to let her call or confirm the shots if it kept her happy. “It’s Gully’s choice.”

  She glanced at me. “It’s sound. I’ll use the armband while Wanton drives.”

  We reached the perimeter around the destroyed building before she got a reply, and we found Tattletale in the company of some of the major heroes. Legend, Alexandria and Eidolon weren’t present, but that wasn’t a huge surprise. They apparently had secrets to keep.

  More than one cape turned their attention to me as I approached. They didn’t shoot, though. I was relieved at that. It would be a bad way to go, getting gunned down out of the air by heroes with twitchy trigger fingers.

  I had to pause while the van stopped to pass through a contingent of heroes. Rachel sort of strode through without really asking for permission.

  It wouldn’t be winning us any points with the good guys, ignoring courtesy, but the fact that Tattletale and Regent had disappeared from our rendezvous spot and that they were now in the midst of a group of twenty-seven heroes. They weren’t at gunpoint, not really, but the implied threat was apparent.

  I waited until Scapegoat was out of the van and hobbling toward the crowd before bringing Atlas in for a landing. I rose to a standing position so I wouldn’t be sitting down when the bugs parted to reveal me.

  “What’s going on?” I asked. My bugs passed through the crowd, not getting in anyone’s way, not touching on faces or bare skin where I could help it, but giving me a way to track everyone nearby.

  It was Tecton who answered me. “Tattletale wasn’t willing to drop her idea. I suggested taking it to our superiors, and she agreed.”

  “It’s too dangerous,” Myrddin said. He stood by with Miss Militia and Chevalier beside him.

  “It’s our best option,” Tattletale said.

  “It’s a plan that puts everyone involved at an immense degree of risk, and it costs us time we don’t have.”

  “We have a little time,” Tattletale retorted. “I don’t see any movement there, do you?”

  “We can’t even guarantee it’ll work,” Myrddin replied.

  “Are you saying that because you consider yourself the resident dimension manipulator or because you’re afraid it’ll lead to a big revelation about Cauldron?”

  I could have imagined it, but I could have sworn my bugs were aware of a collective intake of breath. Not everyone present, not even one in five… but people did react.

  How far did this reach?

  “What are you talking about?” Myrddin asked.

  “No? I’m not seeing anything from you. Guess you’re in the clear,” Tattletale replied.

  “Tattletale,” Miss Militia cut in, “This isn’t the time for games, making accusations in the hopes of finding information.”

  “I agree,” I said. “Stick to the topic at hand.”

  “It’s not a game,” Tattletale said. She looked at me, and she wasn’t smiling. “And I don’t see how we can discuss it if we ignore the elephant in the room.”

  “Try,” I told her.

  “What’s going on?” Chevalier asked. Of everyone in the immediate area, he had the most presence. He wore gleaming gold and silver armor, but it was the massive, ornate cannonblade that made him so imposing, with a blade that was twelve feet long, three feet wide and c
apable of growing larger, resting against his shoulder as though it were as light as a feather.

  “Rest assured, Chevalier, this is a discussion for another day,” Miss Militia said. “One I’m definitely interested in continuing, but not when it threatens to distract us.”

  “If you’re sure,” Myrddin said.

  “Trust me. Please,” Miss Militia replied.

  “Cauldron is led or backed up by the Tr-”

  Miss Militia struck Tattletale, cutting her off before she could finish the sentence. It was only as Miss Militia dropped to her knees, setting one knee on Tattletale’s throat, that I saw she’d had a gun in her hand. She gripped Tattletale by the cheeks, pinching her mouth open, and slid the gun into her mouth.

  I could sense Rachel striding forward, saw Regent moving to raise one hand in Miss Militia’s direction. My arms went out to either side of me: one to bar Rachel’s advance, another to catch Regent’s wrist.

  “Don’t be foolish, Tattletale,” Miss Militia said. “Why would you risk everything like this?”

  Tattletale glanced at me, then mumbled something incomprehensible around the gun barrel. Her cheekbone was bleeding where she’d been struck.

  Miss Militia looked up at me. A gun materialized in her other hand, identical to the one that was jammed between Tattletale’s teeth, but she didn’t point it at me. “Do we have a problem, Skitter?”

  “Not unless you pull the trigger,” I said. “We aren’t going to start a fight with this many people around. It would be suicidal.”

  I looked Tattletale in the eye as I said that last word.

  “Is she a clone?” Myrddin asked.

  “I almost wish she was,” I replied. “No. It’s the real her.”

  “Can you tell me why she’s doing this?” Miss Militia asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Yes, but not in entirety.” We were tired, but that wasn’t it, it wasn’t all of it. Couldn’t be. It wouldn’t account for the almost suicidal edge to her actions in just the last half hour. There was something else going on.

  “Tattletale,” Miss Militia said, “I’m going to remove the gun. Think very carefully about what you say. Deliberately attempting to divide our ranks could be seen as a violation of the truce, and I will push for the kill order if it goes that far.”

 

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