Worm

by John Mccrae Wildbow

  If Coil fully expected to cooperate, to give us the answers we needed and hand Dinah over, then it didn’t matter if the Travelers were there. If he was expecting conflict and he had planned to invite them, then we only gained the benefit of knowing in advance that they’d be there. Finally, if he’d expected trouble but he hadn’t invited them, there was probably a reason, and that reason would be something we could exploit in a pinch.

  They hadn’t accepted my invitation anyways, and I hadn’t sensed anything sinister when Trickster had rejected the offer. He’d been too self-centered.

  Funny, as I thought on it, how easily he seemed to slip between talking about ‘I’ as in himself to talking about ‘we’, the group. It was as if he assumed everyone in the Travelers was on the same page as him, and my discussions with Sundancer and Ballistic had suggested anything but. Even Cherish’s taunts had pointed to some strife within the ranks.

  The second major piece of data that I’d gleaned from my detour was that Dinah wasn’t here. There were a handful of locked doors my bugs hadn’t been able to slip past, but the room Dinah had been in when we’d first visited was empty. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure that Dinah wasn’t still in Coil’s underground base, but I had a hard time believing that Coil would leave her there with no armed guards. She was too valuable to risk losing her to one of his enemies or losing his bargaining chip he had in his dealings with me.

  We’d agreed that if I could prove myself as a valuable asset, he’d accept my fealty in exchange for Dinah’s freedom. I hadn’t earned him any money, not directly, but that had never really been his goal. He had money, and he could get more by exercising his power in some high-risk, high-reward ventures. I had gathered more followers under my wing than all of the others put together, with the possible exception of Tattletale. I’d put life and limb at risk, partially for his benefit. I’d proved myself as a leader, a soldier and a problem solver. I’d put up with every challenge he’d set in my way: the false death threat he’d put on my head, convincing the mayor, dealing with Dragon and going up against the Nine. Hell, I’d tended to my territory while my dad lay bleeding in the hospital.

  I couldn’t say for sure whether Coil would actually follow through with his end of the deal. In his shoes, ignoring what the right thing to do would be, if only because it was pretty fucking obvious he didn’t put much stock in right and wrong, I wasn’t sure I’d give Dinah up. For a guy like Coil, who did things from behind the scenes, playing the long game and orchestrating events to get the best possible results, Dinah’s power was invaluable.

  Trickster had used a chess metaphor, back when the thing with the Nine was just beginning. Would I be considered a bishop? Hell, even if I thought of myself as a queen, I wasn’t sure Coil would value having me on his side of the board over having Dinah.

  Dinah let him rig the game.

  I ventured outside and made my way to the flights of stairs for the building that was still in progress. It had proceeded nicely in recent days, and the outside was partially complete. The sun was setting, and my bugs could see and feel the warm light that streamed in through the openings in the outside, where tarps had come free. The thick dust of concrete and shorn wood layered the area and formed clouds wherever the wind made its way inside.

  I’d climbed the stairs to the meeting place only an hour ago, and I’d ventured all the way to the bottom to investigate Coil’s base. That made this my third trip over the twenty flights of stairs, accessing the roof. On my third trip, my aches and pains from being tossed around by Coil’s explosion were most definitely making themselves felt.

  In a way, I didn’t mind. I felt restless, and moving made me feel better. Nervous wasn’t the right word. Nervousness implied there was uncertainty, and I was pretty sure this wouldn’t go the way I hoped. Trepidation wasn’t right either. I might have settled on ‘a sense of encroaching doom’ but that felt over the top.

  Then again, this was someone’s life on the line. Maybe our lives too. Was it possible to be over the top when the stakes were this high?

  The others had arranged themselves around the roof. Bitch was in a half-sitting, half-lying down position, leaning back against Bentley’s side, Bastard sleeping on her lap. Tattletale and Regent were having a discussion at the top of the stairwell, while Grue and Imp were at the edge of the building. Imp sat with her legs dangling off the side of the building, while Grue showed more caution, standing a distance behind her.

  “You should be careful,” I spoke up. “If you’re standing too close to the building’s edge, you’re making yourself a prime target for a sniper.”

  “You said these suits were bulletproof,” Imp said. I noticed how she didn’t move.

  “I said they might be. But judging by the fact that mine let some non-metal shotgun pellets through, I don’t think they’ll stop a bullet. Either way, I’d really rather not start experimenting tonight.”

  Imp pulled herself to her feet and retreated from the edge of the building. I could feel Grue’s shoulders drop slightly as he relaxed.

  Grue and Tattletale drifted my way, while Regent, Imp and Bitch each sort of moved to the periphery of our huddle. It was Grue who asked, “You think he’s going to take shots at us?”

  “I feel exposed,” I said. “If he opens fire on us, are we really in a position to take cover? Or if he bombs out the first floor of the building? Or calls in the teams of heroes he’s in charge of? Could we really get down?”

  “I’m not getting that vibe,” Tattletale said.

  “But he’s figured out how to trick your power,” I pointed out.

  “Any solutions?” Grue asked.

  “Yeah. I’ve been working on one, but I’m not sure it’ll work.”

  “Share?”

  I extended one hand, and a wasp took flight, bearing a trio of spiders. It was forced to turn and fly in circles to slow its forward movement to account for the speed at which the spiders were spooling out thread. The ends of the thread were already wrapped around one of my fingers.

  It took a minute before they reached the other formation that was doing the same thing. I began reeling in the thread, until I’d raised a length of cord to the edge of the roof.

  Bitch ventured over to see what was going on, and then spun around, “No.”

  “My first night out in costume, I got stuck on top of a building. I’m not going to make the same mistake twice. We called Thomas Calvert, he agreed to meet us, but just in case he decides to level the building rather than have a conversation, I want us to have a way down.”

  “A way down?” Grue asked.

  “I’m pretty sure I got the lengths right. I hope I got the lengths right, because I used up a lot of silk here. Eight cords, we each hold one, or tie one around our waists, and then jump off the side of the building. Swing out over the intersection.”

  “Awesome,” Imp said.

  “Pretty sure?” Grue asked.

  “Pretty sure,” I admitted. “I’ve tried to stagger it, so the silk stretches out over horizontal lines I set out between buildings, so we aren’t just dropping straight down to the street. But it’s elastic, and I can’t account for how much stretch there’ll be in the material. Or how much stretch won’t be there.”

  “And if he’s got gunmen, too? We’re left there dangling out over the middle of a street?”

  “It’s one option,” I said. “One. We’ll have your darkness so they won’t necessarily have clear shots.”

  “And you have your bugs,” Regent said.

  “Our opponent here knows exactly what we can do. He’s worked with us and observed us for weeks. Excepting Imp and I, he’s worked with you guys for months. Over a year. So no, he’s not going to do something like underestimate the range of my bugs. He’s going to have snipers that are just beyond my usual range and I won’t be able to fight back.”

  “Your relay bugs?” Regent suggested.

  “Dying. But yeah, I’ll bring them out. I suppose a night like tonight warrants us
ing up the last of their reserves.”

  “And you can fly,” he said, pointing straight up, where Atlas was in the skyline, circling around a stationary Shatterbird.

  “I can, but I’d almost rather use the cords and swing down to the street level. If I’m flying and they get a lucky shot off, I’m pretty fucking screwed. They hit me, Atlas won’t ease me to the ground. They hit Atlas, nothing I can do to stop falling. Besides, being on the ground means I have the utility Atlas brings to the table. Being mounted on him means he and I are essentially one unit.”

  “I think you’re overthinking this, dork,” Regent said.

  “No,” Grue and I said together. Grue didn’t say anything more, but I added, “We plan for every possibility and we’re wrong? We don’t lose anything. If we plan for a situation that does come up? We’ll be glad we did it.”

  “You’re going to drive yourself insane worrying about it,” he retorted.

  “If she hasn’t already, I don’t think she will in the next ten minutes,” Tattletale said. “You sense them on the ground, Skitter?”

  I shook my head. “My power’s radius is like a bubble, and the bottom end isn’t covering that much ground. I should have been waiting at a spot lower in the building.”

  “They’re on their way up.”

  I could sense them as they reached the base of the building. Thomas Calvert would be the man who led the way, and the men who followed him were outfitted in PRT gear.

  It took time for them to ascend. The building was only partially complete, with floors, some walls and the steel skeleton of beams with tarps stretching between them for the remainder, but no elevators.

  Without discussing it, we arranged ourselves on the rooftop, preparing to meet them. I was a little surprised that Grue and Tattletale positioned themselves so they were each just a little behind me, with Imp, Bitch and Regent behind them. Bentley prowled at the perimeter of our group, three-quarters of the way to his typical ‘monstrous’ size and slowly growing.

  Thomas Calvert was the first to cross the threshold. Annoying that the first time I would ‘see’ Coil unmasked, I would be blind. He waved one hand to brush away my bugs as they passed over him, but I managed to pick up the essential details. Close cropped hair, trimmed eyebrows, thin lips and a cleft chin. He wore the body portion of a PRT uniform with an insignia stitched onto his sleeve that I couldn’t make out with my swarmsense.

  Most of the squads remained below, but he was joined by a handful of soldiers and three young men in plainclothes, one of whom looked like a bodybuilder.

  “Yo, Frenchy,” Tattletale said. “Sup?”

  One of the uniforms nodded a slight response. Was he backed up by a ‘PRT’ squad or two consisting of his hired mercenaries?

  “Undersiders. After your last interaction with Director Piggot, I assumed you would want to speak to me and try establishing ground rules?”

  “We know it’s you, boss,” Regent said.

  My bugs caught the slightest exhalation from Director Calvert’s nostrils, a minor expression of annoyance. “The Travelers were a little more circumspect.”

  “Circum-what?” Imp asked. I couldn’t tell if she was genuinely wondering or if she was being intentionally obtuse.

  “Tone it down, guys,” I said. They’re the types to go after any weakness in authority figures. They’ll nettle him until someone gets in trouble. “Director Calvert. Would it be too much to ask for you to ask your squad to wait downstairs?”

  There was an extended pause before he offered a slight nod to one side. His squad turned to return downstairs, and I followed them as they took position by the base of the stairwell.

  “I asked you to stay out of costume until further notice,” he spoke.

  “With all due respect, Director,” I said. Tattletale had coached me; I would stroke his ego by reinforcing his new position. “I was injured as a bystander in Coil’s attack. I wouldn’t have been hurt if I’d been costumed. Until everything cools down, I think my team and I will play it safe.”

  “I see. I can respect that. Nothing serious?”

  “Serious? Yes. But it’s nothing life threatening and nothing that can’t be fixed.”

  Thomas Calvert reached beneath the armored panel of his vest and withdrew a small remote. He stared at it for several long seconds before putting it away. That done, he clasped his hands behind his back. It was a position that was very ‘Coil’. It was obvious and direct enough that I suspected he was dropping his Director persona and admitting his true nature. “My apologies. I am not infallible.”

  You let a dozen or more people die and left twice that many people injured in some way. No, you’re not infallible.

  I kept my mouth shut.

  “I just checked for listening devices. You aren’t recording this, which means I can answer any questions you have.”

  “How much of that was planned?” I asked.

  “More than you might suspect. Every person in that room who was not in the audience was accounted for. Mr. Grove and Mrs. Padillo were selected and recruited well in advance. Circus and Chariot were hired nearly a year and a half ago, their actions and development in the public eye carefully orchestrated. Über and Leet were recent acquisitions. I needed a heavy metal suit that could carry a package, and Trainwreck died at an inconvenient time. Most reporters were selected and stationed well in advance, claiming the rear of the room where they would bear the brunt of the attack, so to speak.”

  “They didn’t die?” I asked.

  “As with Circus, Über and Leet,” Director Calvert nodded in the direction of the three individuals in civilian clothes.

  “Wait, Circus is a guy?” Regent asked.

  “Depends on your definition of guy,” Tattletale said. “If you’re talking biological or what Circus identifies as. Not that I have it pinned down; I can’t tell if you’re a guy posing as a girl when in costume or a girl who poses as a guy when in plainclothes.”

  Circus spat, directing a loogie to shoot a horsefly out of the air. “I’ll take that as a compliment, I guess.”

  “The three of them and most of the reporters were removed from the premises in time,” Coil said. “The reporters, as I said, were plants. I needed news reporters in place who would be sure to catch the details I wanted them to catch. Some editing of the footage just prior to it being sent to the news stations served to smooth rough edges and highlight key points.”

  “Making Piggot look worse, for example,” Tattletale said.

  “Among other things. Appearances are one of the most important things, here. With Chariot’s help, we created a rough emulation of Trickster’s power. The reporters were swapped out, a sufficient amount of raw biological matter was swapped in.”

  “Human matter?” I asked.

  “That is what the paperwork will say, which is the most important aspect,” Director Calvert answered me. “Rest assured, no serious harm was done. Circus’ abilities allowed us to place the knives in nonlethal areas. Better that Director Piggot looks as ineffectual as possible than simply perish. The same applies to the mayor. Thomas Grove and Mrs. Padillo will recover, but Thomas Grove will concede the election, supporting Mrs. Padillo, despite his strong showing. It will help shake the notion that things were staged.”

  “But they were. Every part of it,” Tattletale said.

  “Every part of it.”

  “The bomb?” I asked.

  “The sabotaged power supply was real, but Über’s metal suit housed a teleportation apparatus to detect when it was removed from the premises, so a replica could be brought into the lobby. The initial detonation was little more than light and a shockwave primed to make the most of the Manton effect, leaving my agents with little more than bruises and scratches. They were teleported out, as I already said, just before the final, true detonation. We estimated how fast the evacuation would proceed and calculated a blast radius that would leave the building standing and the crowd largely untouched.”

  I could remember
Tattletale mentioning how there were less killed or injured than I might have thought. Had she guessed this much?

  “Every action I’ve carried out has been carefully weighed, with attention given to the aftermath. Circus, Über and Leet will be leaving Brockton Bay with a sizable reward for their efforts. I don’t expect they will need to return to a life of crime, but I believe they will use a different identity and modus operandi if they do?”

  He’d made it a question, and Über answered, “Yes, sir.” I could feel Leet and Circus nodding.

  “Good,” Director Calvert spoke. To us, he said, “It just isn’t worth killing good help. Should my ultimate plans here fall through, it’s better to have individuals like them on reserve.”

  “And us?” Grue asked.

  “Your part in Brockton Bay isn’t entirely over, yet. I established you here for a reason. As Director, I will lead a slow but successful campaign against Brockton Bay’s villains. The Travelers will be the first. I expect a strike squad of my PRT agents will catch them off guard, but they will ultimately escape capture.”

  “How unfortunate,” Tattletale said.

  “Indeed,” Director Calvert replied. “Doubly unfortunate if other villains should establish a presence in Brockton Bay’s south end, forming a loose alliance with the Undersiders, who maintain a firm hold on the flourishing North end. Oh, rest assured, you Undersiders will lose your hold on this city over the course of months, but it won’t be quite as bad as it sounds.”

  “We’ll avoid being captured, probably,” Tattletale said, “Or we’ll get captured and break out before there’s an issue. And then we don’t come back to Brockton Bay. We wind up establishing presences in nearby cities. One or two Undersiders with a firm grip on a given city with other villains under us, establishing a new kind of villainy, and you, Director, as the valiant hero on the opposing side. Your power grows in a way the public is very much aware of, and, well, we’re not losing quite so much as it seems, so your power grows in other ways too.”

  Thomas Calvert spread his hands, “It seems you have a firm grasp on what’s going on. I won’t waste our time reiterating. Any questions?”