by wildbow
Weaver stared down at the card. She didn’t need to look up as she walked, as the butterflies checked her path for her. Other bugs had joined them.
“Just do me a favor,” Glenn said.
Weaver glanced at him.
“Make friends with whoever they hire to replace me. Listen to them. You’re allowed to hate them too, but hear them out. Can’t hurt.”
She nodded. She looked down at the card again, then looked up at him. “Can I call this in now? It’s about my dad.”
* * *
“Defiant?”
Defiant couldn’t move, as he held a heavy concrete slab out of the way for emergency crews. He used the cursor embedded in his eye to select the ‘answer’ command, and shut the vents around his mouth.
“Tiamat II, hold off on any reports for now.” Can’t take it, not right this moment.
“It’s me.”
Scarab 25.1
“This is exactly what I was talking about. She’s a dangerous influence.”
“She’s a sixteen year old girl with strong opinions, Wilkins,” Armstrong answered. “Nothing more. She holds onto those opinions and her core worldview, and vulnerable people get caught up in her momentum. Cult leaders will do the same thing, only it’s purposeful in their case. Get people tired, get people worn out, scared and hungry, and then give them someone with presence to give them support.”
“You’re saying she’s an accidental cult leader?”
“She’s in a position where it’s very easy to sway others. A lot of the parahumans out there fit the criteria I’m talking about,” Armstrong said. He glanced at Glenn, who looked distinctly unhappy. “So, apparently, does our staff.”
“I think you’re off target,” I said. “You’re talking about Foil, I get it, and Parian, and now the Chicago Wards and Glenn. But all of the decisions they made were when I wasn’t anywhere near them. Unless you’re implying I have some sort of mind control.”
“No,” Armstrong told me. He didn’t fit his name; he looked more like my dad than anyone, though he had a peculiarly prominent jaw and a forehead that made it look like he was perpetually glaring. “It doesn’t matter if they’re near you. The message and the idea stays with them even after they leave your presence.”
“Tecton just wanted someone to call the shots, to replace Raymancer,” I said. He was defending me, but it wasn’t helping.
“We saw the video,” Director Wilkins said. “We know what he said. I think it’s best if you stop talking.”
I bit my lip and turned my eyes to the table.
“Well,” Glenn said. “What’s done is done. Can I suggest that perhaps, because it’s been a long day, we should retire? All of us will still be here in the morning.”
“It sounds like a good idea,” Armstrong said. One or two heads around the table nodded.
“We’re going to handle this tonight,” Wilkins said.
“While the girl’s so tired she could fall asleep sitting up,” Glenn observed. “Or is it that you want to resolve this while Chevalier is in the hospital?”
“Chevalier doesn’t matter,” Wilkins said. “This is PRT business.”
“I agree. His input would be appreciated, if he was in a state to give it, but it’s ultimately not his decision,” the Washington director said. He reminded me of Piggot, but he wasn’t fat. Heavy, but not fat like she’d been. It was more the way he held himself, his tone and approach. His graying hair was cropped close, and he had a combination of paler skin and dark circles under his eyes that made me think of a corpse. Director West.
“We lose nothing by waiting,” Glenn said, calm, unflappable. I’d seen that confidence before, in people who’d had nothing to lose. I’d had that confidence before.
“We lose time. If we’re going to respond to the press and the public, we need to act sooner than later.”
“My concern…” a woman said, drawing out the thought, “Is that her actions go against the spirit of the PRT and the groups under the PRT’s umbrella. Conspiring with a known terrorist, betraying the truce, even, for a subtle advantage in dealing with that terrorist, returning to her old team against all terms of her probation, rejecting orders, and taking reckless risks with PRT personnel, getting two injured. A longstanding goal of the PRT has been to reassure the public, and this only paints heroes as something dangerous.”
I already didn’t like her. I wasn’t even sure what city she was from.
“That doesn’t even include the fact that this leak shows capes going all out. When the joy at the victory wears off, people are going to look at the footage and wonder if they’re in danger,” West said.
We won, I thought. We beat him, and you’re quibbling over details.
Why were they doing this? Why were they so intent on railroading me? Screwing me over?
These guys, or some of them, were the old guard. Defenders of the status quo. Tagg would have fit into this little cadre.
Maybe that was part of the reason.
“—Birdcage.”
The word hung in the air.
I snapped to attention, fully awake in an instant. I had to take a second to look at the faces of the people around the table before I realized who’d said it. Armstrong, the man who’d been my advocate an instant ago.
“A little extreme,” West said.
“The next few fights are going to be crucial. Every time the Endbringers come, there are major losses. We lose good capes. Others step in, but they don’t have the experience or the organization, so we lose more. New Delhi was very nearly the culmination of that.”
“We won New Delhi.”
“We lost. Scion won,” Armstrong responded. “Participation will be up for the next fight. Let’s use that. We bolster the numbers further, by tapping the Birdcage. There are powerful capes in there, and some are cooperative.”
Oh. They aren’t talking about me.
“And if they start wreaking havoc afterward? Or turn on us?”
“We can be select about it. Dragon’s willing to give us a searchable database of all of the conversation and behavior records within the Birdcage.”
I raised my head at that. “Dragon’s alive?”
“She got in contact with us a short while ago.”
I nodded. I felt a little dazed, confused. Too much in a short time. I was reaching the point where I wasn’t sure I’d be able to take it all in.
“It’s not worth it,” West said.
“A moderate risk for a chance to save hundreds, thousands, even millions of lives,” Armstrong said.
“How many lives do we lose because of the monsters we set free?” West retorted. “Those criminals were put there for a reason.”
“At first,” Armstrong said. “But the rationale for indefinite detention has been getting weaker, and the number of capes going in has been increasing. I—”
“It’s not going to happen, Armstrong,” West cut him off.
Armstrong deflated a little, settling back in his chair.
“The media is already reaching out to us to ask for interviews with Weaver,” one of the other Directors said. “They love her or hate her, but this won’t die down anytime soon.”
“Primacy effect,” West said, frowning. “That video is going to be the first thing people will think about when they think about people in the field during an Endbringer attack.”
“So we drown it,” the woman from before said. “Release the footage we held back, footage with a more favorable effect on us. Weaver gets lost in the shuffle, and we quietly address the unbecoming conduct.”
We won, you bastards. I clenched my fists beneath the table.
“Address how?”
“It’s a violation of her probationary membership. She’s off the team for the time being, if not permanently. She fulfills the remainder of her sentence, then remains in our custody as a consult. ”
I noticed that my bugs were acting of their own volition, treating this as a crisis scenario. They were massing, and they were wind
ing silk threads around the PRT uniforms that guarded the room, around the containment foam sprayers and guns that they held.
I’d missed the Undersiders, hated that I wasn’t there with them as they said goodbye to Regent. Part of the reason I’d become a hero had been to reconnect with my dad, but the gap seemed too wide. I’d killed, and he’d seen me kill. He was afraid of me.
It would be easy to disable the PRT uniforms, attack the directors and simply make my way to Brockton Bay. I could patch things up with Grue, help Rachel, ensure that Imp didn’t go to a dark place.
But it wouldn’t get me anywhere.
He wanted to play hardball? I’d play hard in return. I turned my attention to my swarm for a moment.
“I think you’re underestimating how badly the public would react if Weaver was punished,” Glenn said.
“We’re facing a lose-lose situation, Mr. Chambers,” Chief Director West said. “We cut our losses, take a hit in PR, but we can continue operating as we need to. So long as it’s quiet, she goes to prison and doesn’t go out on another big excursion, I don’t think anyone’s about to make a big deal of it.”
…make a big deal of it. I turned the words around in my head. Manipulating the media, manipulating the local capes. Damn. I’d had high hopes for Chevalier’s new Protectorate, but it didn’t seem to extend to the PRT.
“We can deflect,” the woman from before said. “Raise another issue, change the focus of the public.”
“Not so easy,” Glenn said. “It’s been done too often in the past. They’re watching for it, even anticipating it.”
“But the majority won’t be,” she responded. She turned to Director West. “The alert, educated minority will complain, but they won’t achieve anything meaningful. They never do.”
“I’m inclined to agree,” Director West said. “It’s not pretty, but it’ll suffice.”
“Why?” I asked. “You can’t deny I helped. I didn’t deliver a serious blow, but I helped to coordinate, I had ideas, I used them.”
“There’s other smart capes out there,” a man said. He didn’t give me the impression of a PRT director. Another staff member?
“I did a lot of good, and you’re railroading me. Is it because you’re losing control of things and I make an easy target? Because you’re afraid of me?”
“Because you’re consistently unpredictable. Unreliable. We set rules and you break them,” West told me.
“Rules don’t generally apply during an Endbringer attack,” I said. “The only thing that matters is taking the motherfucker down. We did.”
“I’m inclined to agree,” Armstrong said. “This is going a step too far. She did well.”
A few heads nodded around the table, but they didn’t have the majority, and they didn’t have the clout that Chief Director West did. Glenn had spoken of a fifty-fifty split in the reactions, and he was more or less on target. But the power held by the people who were standing up for me was nothing compared to the clout the others had.
“This is beyond the Endbringer attack. It’s overall conduct,” the woman at the far end of the table said.
“When? Can you name incidents? Beyond the Endbringer attack?” I challenged her.
“Spiders in the less traveled areas of the prison,” West told me.
Spiders in the prison. Shit.
I felt myself deflate a little, but I managed to keep my face straight. “If there are any, they’re eggs that recently hatched.”
“And the costume? A weave of silk cloth hidden out of sight.”
Damn.
“That predated my discussion with the Warden,” I lied. “I got rid of the spiders, moved on.”
“You could have reported it.”
“That an abandoned time-killing project was stuck in behind some pipes? Why?”
“Because this happens. There’s no reason to believe you.”
I clenched my fists.
“You’re dangerous, Taylor Hebert. Unpredictable. You’re deceptive, clever enough to come up with tricks, but not clever enough to stick to the straight and narrow from the beginning. Armstrong said it himself. You’re good at manipulating people.”
…Manipulating people, I thought. Not as good as I wanted to be.
Armstrong spoke up, “You’re twisting my words, West. I said she was well situated for interacting with vulnerable people, and stalwart enough in her own worldview that others can get swept up in her flow.”
“Regardless. Ms. Hebert was right about one thing. It’s late. It’s been an emotionally exhausting day.”
“Physically exhausting too,” I said, not taking my eyes off the Chief Director. “You know, running around, fighting Behemoth while you guys sit in your—”
Glenn shifted one leg under the table, pressing it against mine. A nudge, not overt.
I stopped.
My power crackled at the edge of my attention. My bugs were moving again, without any direct instructions from me. I reined them in, and then distributed them through the building. Was there someone I could contact? Something I could communicate to the right person, to change what was happening here?
West ignored my comment, turning his attention to Glenn. “Mr. Chambers, you’re relieved of duty. You likely knew this already.”
“I understand,” Glenn said.
“We’ll discuss on our own whether we need to press charges.”
…Press charges. Bastards.
“Okay,” Glenn said.
West met my eyes. “Taylor Hebert, you violated the terms of your probation. You’ll return to Gardener tonight, and you’ll carry out the rest of your sentence. Your test run with the Wards teams is over. Offer rescinded. Provided you do not talk to the media, we stop there. We’ll talk to you when you turn eighteen, to see about plans for the future.”
“This is a mistake,” Glenn said. “Chevalier had a number of plans, and you’re unraveling them.”
“Naturally, Mr. Chambers. We’re aware of the thrust of those plans. Recruiting villains. A darker, edgier Protectorate. Provided he keeps to the rules, we’re willing to let that be. But with the administration, the underlying framework that makes his teams possible, we have to maintain a balance, keep the public and the President happy. He won’t have our assistance.”
…He won’t have our assistance, I thought.
I heard the words, and my bugs spoke them. Every bug, within the building, repeated him, verbatim. The good, the bad, the details that damned me. It wasn’t a question of finding the right person, or saying the right thing. It was everyone, saying everything.
In that manner, my bugs repeated it to staff members, to the Chicago Wards, and to the Protectorate members who’d accompanied their Directors here. It was too late for reporters to be around, but I didn’t deny the possibility.
Tens of thousands of bugs speaking words at a sound barely above a whisper, louder in places where more people congregated.
Dispatch and Exalt were the first to make their way to our floor. They entered the room without knocking.
I met Dispatch’s eyes. Not the rescuer I’d hoped for. We’d worked together, but he’d disliked me from the outset.
“Dispatch?” West asked.
Dispatch didn’t reply right away. He glared, and it wasn’t at me. It was at the Director.
“We’ve been listening,” Exalt said.
“Listening?”
“You’ve been bugged,” Dispatch said. “Only the bugs are the ones outside. They’ve been talking. Reciting.”
I could see Chief Director West’s eyes narrow as he looked at me. He would be replaying the conversation in his head, trying to figure out if he had said anything damning.
“No guarantee she’s telling the truth,” West said.
“Provided he keeps to the rules, we’re willing to let that be,” Dispatch said. “Spiders in the back areas of the prison.”
“Yes,” Director Armstrong said. “That’s accurate. I can’t speak to particulars or the little deta
ils, though.”
“I repeated everything verbatim,” I confirmed.
“The goings-on of this meeting are confidential,” Director West said.
“Nobody told me that,” I answered. “It doesn’t matter. I violated my probation anyways, apparently.”
“Anything goes against Endbringers,” Tecton said, from the hallway. He’d just arrived with Grace and Annex beside him. “We wouldn’t have done half as well if it wasn’t for her.”
“Tell that to Kismet,” one of West’s flunkies commented. “Or Particulate. You don’t really want her on your team. Not when she’s going to stab you in the back for a better margin of victory.”
“I do,” Tecton said. “All of us do. We watched the video together. We talked about it. Kismet made a mistake. As far as Particulate, we looked him up. He’s reckless, dangerous. Not the best way she could have handled it, but it worked.”
West didn’t take his eyes off me. “Even if we ignored everything else, this kind of behavior, it’s—”
“It’s exactly what Chevalier wanted,” I said. My eyes dropped to the table. I didn’t meet his gaze, didn’t try to engage the visitors. “Open, honest. Exposing the rot at the center.”
“You’re saying you’re not rotten,” the woman at the end of the table said, almost mocking.
“Maybe I am,” I told her. “I’m not all good, not all bad. I’m just… getting by. Doing what I can, not holding back against enemies who don’t deserve it. And under Chevalier’s system, Glenn’s system, I guess I’m revealing all of that stuff we usually keep hidden, and it’s up to others to make the call whether they can roll with it or not. Up to the public, my potential teammates.”
“Honestly,” Tecton said, “if you’re going to lock her up after all this, you can consider me done. You’re going to undermine Chevalier, when what he’s doing worked? I’m gone.”
Here and there, there were murmurs of agreement.
There was a very long pause.
“Weaver,” Director West said.
I met his eyes again. I could see the hate.
“You’ll make your way to Chicago at the end of the week, and provided everything goes well, you will be a member of the team. If you’re wise, you won’t take interviews, and you won’t take any action that draws attention to you.”