Worm

by John Mccrae Wildbow

  “We can barter,” Faultline said. Her voice was hard. “Unless you’re saying the people who’ve been creating and hoarding parahumans en masse don’t have any cards to play.”

  “Unfortunately, Faultline, we cannot. Cauldron, to be specific, cannot. I have provided this forum for discussion, we can help troubleshoot or support plans, or even provide assistance, but our cards must remain in place. There is nothing any of you could offer us that would be worth what it costs to act.”

  “Bullshit,” I said. I could feel anger stirring. “No way I believe that. Even just that portal system you’ve got, that’s enough to change the tide of this fight.”

  “Not an option,” Doctor Mother said.

  “Because you’re afraid,” Tattletale said. “There’s a fear that someone’s going to come after you, trace the portal back home. But there’s another, bigger fear, isn’t there?”

  “Yes,” Marquis said, from among the group of twelve. “And I suspect I know what it is.”

  “Contessa here has informed me you do,” Doctor Mother said, cutting him off. She was gesturing towards the woman in the suit. “Let me assure you, it would do more harm than good to reveal the details. Especially here, especially now.”

  “Shit on me,” Tattletale said. “You bastards figured this out. How the hell did a bunch of prisoners in a jail that’s dangling inside a mountain get to figure it out before I did?”

  “Hands on experience,” Marquis answered.

  “Panacea,” Tattletale said.

  “Exactly,” Marquis said. “Clever girl. Well, I’m not looking to stir waves. I can’t disagree with the good doctor, so I’ll keep my mouth shut. Back to business.”

  “Damn it,” Tattletale said, under her breath. Louder, she said, “You’re sure that this doesn’t relate to our Endbringer situation?”

  “It doesn’t,” Doctor Mother said. “The Endbringers are a puzzle unto themselves, independent of every other major variable.”

  “That reeks of bullshit,” Tattletale said. “I want to think you’re bullshitting or you’re absolutely wrong and they’re connected to everything, but I’m getting the feeling it’s not. It’s bullshit because it’s true?”

  “I think we’re on the same page, Tattletale,” the Doctor said.

  “Can we progress this discussion?” one of the robed men asked.

  “We can,” the Doctor said. “Thank you for getting us back on track, Turanta of the Thanda. Let’s open the floor to discussion. Let’s start with the possibility that we might draw from the Birdcage.”

  “Freedom matters little to me,” the girl with the eerie voice said. “The true end draws nearer.“

  “The end of the world, you mean,” I said.

  “The end of all things, queen administrator,” she said.

  Queen administrator? What? “Isn’t that the same thing? The end of the world and the end of all things? Or do you mean the end of the universe?”

  “It doesn’t concern other celestial bodies. It doesn’t matter. This ends, one way or another. We and ours will carry on, in some form, whether it happens today or three hundred years from now.“

  “How reassuring,” Tattletale quipped. “You won’t help?”

  “I am safe where I am, whether it beyond the Endbringer’s reach here or deep beneath the mountain. I will collect from among the dead, and I will keep them company until the faerie rise from the ruins.“

  Oh, I thought. She’s completely out of her mind.

  “There’s no way to barter for assistance from within the birdcage then?” Doctor Mother asked. “Nothing you want, Glaistig Uaine?”

  The girl, Glaistig Uaine, responded, “A hundred thousand corpses, each being one naturally gifted by the faerie.”

  “We don’t have time to laugh about like this,” Turanta, the apparent spokesman of the cold capes said.

  “I am not joking, astrologer. I would like to see their lights dancing in the air. I have seen only glimmers, fragments of the performance. To see it all at once… yes.“

  I heard someone in Faultline’s group swearing. Newter, I suspected.

  Honestly, I kind of agreed. I clenched my fists, biting back the worst of my anger. I managed to stay calm as I commented, “I’m getting a better idea of why things are as screwed up as they are. We’ve got all of the major players here, and half of you are willing to do nothing while the world burns.”

  “All of the major players who were willing to come to the table,” Doctor Mother said.

  Not any better, I thought, but I held my tongue. Doctor Mother had turned to the girl from the birdcage. “If you participated in the fight, I can promise there would be a number of dead parahumans there.”

  “I fear that would not be enough. It would need to be all together, for the greatest effect,” Glaistig Uaine said.

  “We could provide that many over a period of ten years, if required, but we’d want more assistance than simply this one fight,” Doctor Mother said. She stopped as the man with the glasses leaned close. A moment passed, “Or we could provide that many twenty-seven years from now.”

  I felt a bit of a chill. They were so casually discussing this, as if it were possible.

  I opened my mouth to cut in, but Glaistig Uaine spoke first.

  “No. No, I don’t think I’ll accept. My word is too vital to me, and you seem to want me to war with the abominations. I don’t fear my own death, but I would rather be together with the others than be separated until the grand celebration. I won’t fight. I would only grant my advice, some power here and there.“

  Doctor Mother sat back in her seat. The ominous silence suggested she was still considering it.

  A hundred thousand lives, being mulled over so readily.

  “That’s a shame,” Doctor Mother said, in the end.

  “If I may?” Marquis spoke up. “With your permission, faerie queen.”

  “Granted,” Glaistig Uaine said.

  “There are others who wouldn’t mind being free again,” he said. “Myself included. We’d fight that monster if you gave us the chance. All we’d ask is that you let a select few others out, and that you don’t create a portal that leads back to the Birdcage after the fact.”

  “No,” Chevalier said, breaking his long silence. “No, I’m sorry.”

  “Some of the strongest parahumans are contained inside that building,” Marquis said. “Glaistig Uaine is one, but there are others. My daughter is another.”

  “Your daughter was a mental wreck the last time anyone outside of the Birdcage saw her. There are too many dangerous individuals in there. She,” Chevalier said, pointing in the direction of the woman with the shadowy pet with the massive bird skull, “Has killed thousands of people. That’s nothing compared to what some individuals in the birdcage have done. We’d be letting the wolves run free again, in the hopes they deal with the lion.”

  “If there is no other way to deal with the lion, and we know the wolves have been caught in our snare once before…” Saint said, trailing off.

  “We know they can be dealt with. We’re just lacking resources. Opening the doors of the Birdcage has to be a last resort.”

  “Oh, I don’t know, I could stand for it to be the first resort,” Marquis said. He turned toward the Doctor, “I’m staying mum about what my daughter discovered. The details we both know that must not be shared. Surely that’s worth some goodwill.”

  “It is,” the Doctor replied.

  I glanced at Tattletale. Her eyes were moving quickly, hungrily taking in details.

  Chevalier sighed. “Dragon? Some backup.”

  “I have to say no,” Dragon said. “The prisoners must stay within the Baumann Parahuman Containment Center. If you intend to rescue them, I’ll deploy everything I have to stop you. Neither of us can afford the losses at this juncture.”

  “But if we did try,” Saint said, “And if we did free a handful of deserving individuals, you wouldn’t be unhappy, would you?”

  There was a
pause, telling. It was enough of a delay for Chevalier to look from Saint to Dragon and give her a curious stare before she spoke. “My view on who is deserving is far different from yours, Saint.”

  “Those of us standing here. Me, my daughter, Lung,” Marquis said.

  “You cannot speak for all of us on that front,” a matronly woman spoke. “One of my girls was unfairly imprisoned, another is on the verge of losing her mind, in captivity.”

  “We all have people we’d see freed,” the man who’d spoken about granting the ability to speak English said. “Let’s say two for each of us.”

  “Thirty six in all,” Dragon said. “One in five of the people currently in the Birdcage, almost. Six more could potentially use the opportunity to slip out, through Stranger powers or other malfeasance. Glancing over the notes my artificial intelligences have made regarding the facility, I can guess who some of the cell block leaders would choose to release. No. I harbor concerns about the Birdcage, but this is not the answer to that.”

  “It would do more harm than good,” Chevalier said. “And I say that with full knowledge of what we’re up against here, today. The last three days.”

  “Their opinions don’t decide this,” Marquis said. “If it were solely up to our officers and jailer in the first place, then we’d be free already. You, Cauldron, have the means to send us back or not. It’s your authority that matters.”

  Chevalier shifted his grip on his weapon, but he didn’t attack. “We’ll bargain. Marquis is offering assistance, but the PRT has influence. We’ll deal with you, Doctor, if it means the Birdcage remains sealed. With the ongoing inquisition against Cauldron capes, perhaps there are one or two you’d want to be ignored. They couldn’t be promoted, that’s the PRT’s jurisdiction, and it would only draw attention to them that I couldn’t help them avoid. Still, I could time a transfer, allow someone to slip through the cracks.”

  “A few someones,” the Doctor said. “Yes. I’m sorry, Marquis. Our clients must come first.”

  “You’ll be twisting our arms and escorting us through the portal, then?”

  “You’ll go willingly. This place cannot sustain life. It’s a facility in the middle of a wasteland, and your Earth is several universes away.”

  “I see,” Marquis said. “Unavoidable, I take it. And if I were to share the particularly valuable information that you and I both know, that you don’t want me to share with others who are present?”

  “I can’t believe I’m not getting in on this,” Tattletale whispered to me.

  Doctor Mother didn’t reply. She remained still, her eyes on Marquis, as the woman in the suit, who she’d called Contessa, leaned in close, whispering.

  “You won’t,” the Doctor said, when Contessa had straightened and stepped back, standing guard behind the Doctor’s chair.

  “I won’t?”

  “You won’t. Teacher would, hearing that, but Teacher has a secret he doesn’t want divulged, and he now knows we know.”

  Marquis turned, his shadow shifting, presumably as he looked at Teacher. He turned back, “Ah well. I suppose I’ll just say we’re here if you need us.”

  “If we need you that badly,” Chevalier said, “Then we’ve already lost.”

  “Rest assured,” Marquis retorted, “I think you’re doing a very good job at getting yourselves to that juncture.”

  “It’s a failure across the board,” I said, surprising myself by speaking. “All of us, the Birdcage prisoners excepted, we’re not doing enough. If we don’t come up with an answer or get someone to step up to bat and fight, then we’re doomed. We’ve got the end of the world happening in twenty-thirteen, and we can’t even band together for this.”

  “Complaining gets us nowhere,” Faultline said. “Besides, it’s not like this is small potatoes.”

  “Okay then,” I said. “Let’s talk resources. If you’ve got parahumans or information, let’s hear it. Let’s show a measure of trust and have Marquis or Cauldron share the tidbit of information they’ve gleaned. Let’s talk options that don’t involve fighting. Tattletale thinks these bastards are designed. Where’s the designer?”

  “Nowhere we can find,” Doctor Mother said. “And we have the most powerful clairvoyance we know about, alongside the most powerful precognitive.”

  “Does that mean there isn’t a designer?” Faultline asked. “That Tattletale’s wrong?”

  “Get fucking real,” Tattletale retorted. “I’m confident on this count.”

  “If they can’t find the designer-” Faultline started.

  “There’s other possibilities. Lots of powers confound precogs and clairvoyants.”

  “Both at the same time?”

  “Be constructive,” I cut in.

  “We will assist,” Turanta said. “Sifara, Bahu and I, others beneath us in our organization. I cannot speak for my fellow brothers, but I will ask them because we all owe a debt. Our brother died, but Weaver helped to make it not for nothing.”

  “Phir Sē died?” I asked, surprised.

  “At the hands of the First, very late.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “We owe you,” he said. “As we owe some of the others. It is your choice how you would use this.”

  “You can pay me back by helping, here,” I said. “You’d be paying us all back.”

  “We have the means,” he said. “But this hurts us, because we rely on our enemies not knowing what we are truly able to do.”

  “If this goes much further,” I said, “It might not matter.”

  “This is true. Of each of you but Weaver and Chevalier, we will ask a small favor, after. Nothing dangerous or painful to give away. Token gestures, most.”

  “Favors make for a good currency,” the Doctor said. “Granted.”

  There were murmurs of assent from others. The woman with the shadow pet didn’t respond, but Turanta didn’t press the issue with her either.

  Dragon glanced at Defiant, but ultimately relented, accepting the terms.

  The Doctor spoke “Moord Nag? We could use your assistance.”

  The woman and her shadow pet with its crocodile skull looked at Doctor Mother. “Laat hulle almal sterf. Ek is tevrede om die wêreld te sien brand en die vallende konings te spot. Ek en my aasdier sal loop op die as van die verwoeste aarde.”

  “She says no. Let them all die,” the woman from the Birdcage said.

  “Can I ask who she is?” Faultline asked.

  Tattletale was the one to answer. I think she got a measure of joy out of rubbing the fact that she knew in Faultline’s face, “Moord Nag. Warlord based in Namibia. As far as the current warlords in the area go, she’s had the longest lifespan at about eight years or so, and she’s gotten things to the point where most of the other bastards around there are kowtowing, asking permission to attack this city or occupy that area, to go to the bathroom or unite two groups in an alliance.”

  “Die badkamer?”

  “Us, basically,” Tattletale said, glancing at me. She turned her head to look at Grue, “Only on a much, much bigger scale, and she did it alone.”

  “Ek het dit reggekry met aasdier,” Moord Nag responded. “Nie alleen nie.“

  “With your pet monster, right.”

  “She said she’d be willing to let the world burn, before,” the woman from the birdcage said. “I don’t think you have an ally there.”

  “From her attitude,” Saint added, “I don’t even see why she was invited.”

  “I’ll ask you the same thing I asked the others,” the Doctor said. “What would it take for you to fight, here?”

  “Ek kan nie krag spandeer sonder om die nag lande hulpeloos teen hul bure te los nie.”

  “She can’t spend her power, not without-”

  “We’ll supply what you need to replenish it,” the Doctor said.

  “No,” Dragon spoke. “No, you won’t.”

  “Ek sal nie-“

  “It would be appreciated,” the man from the Birdcage th
at had granted her the ability to understand English spoke. “Reconsider. Don’t underestimate our resources.”

  “Vyf duisend, lewendig, dit maak nie saak of hulle mag het of nie. ‘N Fraksie van wat jy die gek aangebied het.“

  “No,” Dragon said, before the translator could speak.

  “Yes,” the Doctor said, just as readily. “I caught the number, I can figure out the rest. You’ll get what you need.”

  “I can’t stand by and watch this, not like this,” Chevalier said.

  “How many more will die if we don’t act?” the Doctor said. “The Thanda will counteract the Endbringer’s teleportation ability, at least for a time. Moord Nag gives you much-needed clout. Again, at least for a short time.”

  “In exchange for five thousand lives?” Dragon asked.

  “A small price to pay. How many have died as we conducted this meeting?”

  “Jy praat asof dit saak maak. Die kontrak is verseël. Sal ons gaan nou,” Moord Nag said.

  “What did she just say?” Chevalier asked. Moord Nag was already walking away, stepping away from the panel and into the recessed passage beside it, almost completely hidden in shadow. I could only make out the rodent’s skull, overlarge and pale in the darkness.

  “The contract is settled,” Dragon said. “She sees it as inviolable, now.”

  “I like her,” Marquis commented. “Mass murder aside, anyways. Woman of her word.”

  “We’ll find her,” Chevalier said, to the Doctor, “After the battle is done, before you deliver those people to her.”

  “You promised us a favor, in exchange for our not letting Marquis and the other cell block leaders free,” the Doctor said. “I could ask you to leave this be,” the Doctor said.

  “No. Not this. Not five thousand people, fed to that woman’s pet.”

  “Stop us, then,” the Doctor replied. “Or try, as it may be. That’s one Endbringer we should be able to drive away. As Weaver said, we may have to evacuate the planet if this doesn’t work. Faultline, your assistance would be invaluable on that front. You’ve already created nine, I believe?”