Worm

by John McCrae

  “Inside Echidna. That would be bad,” I said.

  “And plausible,” Tattletale said. “She would, just to fuck us over.”

  “Any idea what variants we could expect on her power?” I asked.

  Tattletale was combing her hair free of gunk with her fingers and fingernails. “No. Seems like there’s always a consistent factor, and the variations work off of that. For Vista, it was space warping. For Grue, darkness. With Shatterbird, there’s three strong possibilities: glass, sound or macrokinesis of some type.”

  “Fuck me,” Tecton said. “City-wide attacks with something other than glass?”

  “Wood? Metal? Pavement?” Tattletale suggested. “The way her original power works, her kinetic ability attunes other objects so they extend her range. She reaches as far as she can, then sets up a wide-area explosion. Instant chaos.”

  “We deal with that if it happens,” I said. “I can use my bugs, maybe sense if she’s affecting anything besides glass, buy us time to react or take cover somehow. But we have limited time, and we should use it. I’d like to stop by my territory, get resupplied, and maybe swing north to wherever Coil put Atlas.”

  “Atlas?” Tecton asked.

  “Skitter’s giant pet beetle,” Regent supplied an answer.

  “It’ll let me fly,” I said, “And I want to stay out of trouble until Scapegoat’s power stabilizes. Easiest to do that if I’m a hundred feet above the ground. That’s not important right now. What I’m wanting to know is whether anyone else has an errand they need to run.”

  “Yeah,” Tattletale said. “I’d like to meet up with the remaining Travelers, talk to Scrub.”

  “Scrub?” Tecton asked.

  “Scrub. And then I need to get back here to meet some guests as they arrive. I invited Faultline’s Crew.”

  That gave me pause, but I couldn’t say why while the heroes were here. “Let’s find a ride.”

  Half of the PRT’s containment vans had turrets on the top for spraying foam, and each of those vans were circling the area where the building and construction site had been demolished and brought down on Noelle’s head, laying foam down on the rubble.

  The other half were little more than mobile roadblocks, and they had been positioned to block off minor roads and alleys, leaving only a few major roads that could be protected by capes.

  The benefit of having the Chicago Wards with us was that we could ask for that stuff. Tecton went to Myrddin, Myrddin spoke a word into his armband, and a PRT agent brought our truck to us.

  Tecton had been talking about organization and relying on others. I didn’t think it counted for nearly as much as he was saying. Not the PRT, with what I’d seen and the hints at the Triumvirate’s involvement. Still, it was a ride, and I wasn’t about to complain.

  ■

  The Travelers were in custody, with Trickster absent. Genesis was in her monstrous form, fixed to the ground with containment foam. I didn’t see any sign of her real body, which meant she was either playing along or cooperating. She wore a vaguely female shape with a serpent’s tail from the waist down and a bony forehead that flared and swooped back behind her head like a triceratops’ frill. She had no eyes, and her mouth was wide and lipless, with tiny sharp teeth, her arms long with clawed fingertips.

  Sundancer and Ballistic were glued down to either side of her, buried up to their shoulders. Scrub was a distance away, buried up to his waist in the road. His hair glowed with a faint red color, and a glow emanated from his eyes and the inside of his mouth.

  Ballistic and Sundancer stared as we approached. The heroes were giving them a wide berth, probably as a safety precaution. I didn’t recognize any of the three who were standing watch; a boy and girl each with shortbows and headbands with a bull’s and ram’s horns, and an eight-foot tall hulk of a girl with a muscular physique that had to be power-induced and a shovel broader than I was. She was stooped over, nearly to the point of having a hunchback, and she had a severe overbite that left her top row of teeth sort of hanging off the front of her face. Her hair was tied into thick, dark braids that hung nearly to her toes, partially obscuring her face. Like Weld, she wasn’t wearing a mask.

  “Wards West! Yo!” Tecton called out.

  The large girl turned around. Her voice was deeper than Grue’s when she spoke, “Chicago Wards. Not that I’m one to talk, but you’re missing a few members. They didn’t-”

  “Nobody’s died yet,” Tecton said, extending a hand. She shook it. He said, “Got a couple sitting this one out. Bearach put in for vacation, I think he’s feeling the pressure after the Leviathan hit, and he’s hoping to have a good excuse to miss the next Endbringer hit. I told him he’s not forced to come on these missions, but…”

  “He’s compelled to defend others,” she said.

  “Yeah. Garnett gave this one a pass. Raymancer came, but he took a bad hit.”

  “Injured?”

  “Radiation poisoning.”

  “How bad?” she asked.

  “Bad as it can get without killing you right away,” Tecton replied. ”Like I said, nobody’s died yet.”

  She bobbed her head in a nod, and her hair swung in front of her. She reached out and put a large hand on his armored shoulder. Her voice was surprisingly gentle when she said, “I’m sorry.”

  Tecton didn’t reply right away. Sympathy could be a horrible thing to give someone, depending on who they were and how far along they were in their acceptance of the event. I felt moisture in my eyes, but it was Grue I was thinking of.

  With something to distract myself, I could deal. I’d compartmentalize, refocus, focus on getting the job done. But if someone gave me a few simple words and a touching gesture like this girl was offering Tecton, right here and right now, I suspected I wouldn’t be able to resist losing my composure.

  It was a good thing, perhaps, that nobody on my team was that type.

  “I’d like to talk to the Travelers,” Tattletale said.

  The large girl looked at Tecton, and she talked to him instead of Tattletale, “Hell of a babysitting job, Tec. These are the guys from the news.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Tecton said, gesturing toward her captives. “Where’s Fisherboy?”

  “The captain’s sitting this one out. I’m in charge for this mission.”

  There was genuine cheer in Tecton’s voice as he said, “You’ve been wanting that for a while.”

  She smiled, which amounted to revealing more of her top row of teeth than anything else. ”I won’t get a promotion for real. They never give them to people like me.”

  “I wouldn’t worry. You’re winning them over,” Tecton said.

  That camaraderie. If I’d joined the Wards, would I have had that? How would things have unfolded?

  “Tattletale, Undersiders, this is Gully. I’m only as strong as I am because of the data I got from studying her power. There was a time that she looked after two members of my team, when they were based in San Diego. Wanton was one of ‘em. If you treat her with anything less than the utmost respect, you won’t get any more cooperation from me. Got it?”

  “Not a problem,” Tattletale said. I nodded an agreement.

  As a group, we approached the Travelers, and Gully accompanied us.

  “Figures,” Ballistic said, when we were in earshot. “I run to the rescue, all for nothing, and I get arrested. No help from you guys, and Trickster fucks us all over. And when all’s said and done, you guys are free and I’m fucking sitting here in a puddle of goo. Tell me Trickster got his, at least?”

  “Not that I’m aware,” Tattletale said.

  Ballistic sighed.

  Sundancer wasn’t moving. She sat in a hunched-over position.

  “Is she okay?” I asked.

  “Of course not. Motherfucking Trickster teleported the two of us into the sky, let us drop. When I stood up again, he did it a second time. My wrist and legs are probably fractured, her legs aren’t any better. She’s out cold. We need fucking medical atte
ntion, and they stuck us in this foam instead.”

  I turned around. “Tecton, Gully, is there a way we could arrange some care for these two?”

  “I’ll pass on a message with my armband,” Gully said. “See what the higher-ups say.”

  “Might help to mention that these guys are heavy hitters at the upper end of the scale. Sundancer can probably finish Noelle, given an opportunity, and Ballistic can definitely slow her down.”

  “Will do.”

  She stepped away, retrieving a smart phone from her pocket and putting it to one ear.

  “You’d think she’d wear a mask,” Regent muttered. I sent a collection of bugs flying at his face and shot him a dirty look at the same time. He was left sputtering.

  Ballistic stared up at me. I couldn’t see his eyes through the lenses of his mask, but I was acutely aware of his silence, here. He wasn’t offering thanks.

  “Well,” Tattletale said, “Let’s see if my guess is right. If not, I wasted a lot of money and a lot of thinking time on this problem.”

  “Guess?” Tecton asked.

  “Guess.” Tattletale briskly walked in Scrub’s direction. The ex-Merchant was buried in a standing position, three-quarters of his body sunken into a hole in the ground roughly two and a half feet in diameter. He couldn’t raise his arms up out of the hole to pull or push himself up, and the narrow confines of the hole didn’t let him bend his legs.

  A flash marked an explosion nearby, hitting only air.

  “Scrub,” Tattletale said.

  Scrub didn’t respond.

  “So you don’t talk,” she said, “That makes this harder.”

  She sat down cross-legged, to put herself on more of a level with him. A flash erupted two feet away from her, a few feet off the ground, and was followed by a slight movement of the air, stirring Tattletale’s blond hair. She brushed it back into place with her hand.

  “What’s the guess?” I asked.

  “His power. What do you think it is?”

  There was another flash. Again, it hit only air.

  “I was thinking uncontrolled annihilation blasts, but you’re going to tell me it’s something else,” I said.

  “I am.”

  Another flash. Tattletale drummed her fingertips on her knee, watching, waiting.

  “We’re kind of on a schedule,” I said. ”So maybe hurry up with the explanation?”

  “I’m just waiting. It’s a matter of time before I can check my theory. If it’s checkable.”

  “If it’s checkable?”

  “Can’t you just play along? I love those ‘murder she wrote’ moments, where I can pull everyone together, then dish the info. Everything makes sense, the puzzle pieces fall together, and things start falling into place. We lose all the effect if I reveal some of it early.”

  “And we lose that opportunity if you sit too close to the guy with the uncontrolled power that isn’t energy blasts, get half your face scooped off and die,” I said. ”I know you know you’re safe, but let’s be extra careful.”

  I extended a hand, but Tattletale didn’t take it. Right, Scapegoat’s effect. She stood without my help, then stepped back.

  “I’ll explain this part of it once I verify,” Tattletale said. ”The rest has to wait until Faultline’s people fly in.”

  “How long will that be?” I asked.

  “Hour and a half from the time I made the call, about. That was about thirty-five minutes ago-”

  Tattletale stopped as another flash hit. It intersected the ground, but the ground was left intact.

  “There!” She said. Her hand went to her belt, and she had a laser pointer out in a second. She circled the area where the blast hit. ”Can you remove that section of ground without breaking the middle?”

  Tecton took a half-step forward, but Gully stopped him. She tapped her shovel against the ground, and the area in question rose from the ground, perfectly cylindrical, three feet high.

  Another of Scrub’s explosions struck, and a spherical gouge was cut out at the bottom of the pillar. Tattletale ducked close, grabbing it as it toppled, then hurried back out of Scrub’s range, dragging the column after her.

  “Careful!” I told her. ”If you’d been hit-”

  “Doesn’t matter,” she said. She rested the cylinder with the vaguely pointed bottom down on the ground, tapped her finger on the top – what had been the road’s surface. ”Look.”

  I peered closer.

  It was so subtle I almost missed it. The texture of the road’s surface was interrupted, shifting minutely to a different texture and fractionally different shade. The area formed a neat circle.

  I stood back while the others looked. Only Rachel didn’t investigate. She was more focused on her dogs, using a metal-tined comb to brush their fur clear of gunk. Bentley nudged my hand, and I gave him a scratch on the crown of his head.

  “I don’t get it,” Tecton said. ”The blast changed it?”

  “The blast transplanted it,” Tattletale said, grinning.

  “How the hell do you even notice something like that?” Wanton asked, touching the surface.

  “That doesn’t matter. Now, if everyone will allow me, I’d like to have my moment now. We all know that there’s built-in limitations to our power. These limitations are apparently for our benefit, even if we might not always love them. The Manton effect is a big one. We get powers, and in the moment those powers take hold, we get some hardwired restrictions that keep those powers from hurting us. A running theory says that it goes too far, and overgeneralizes to humans or living things who aren’t us. Another says that it’s just our empathy at work, that we have built-in limitations because we care about our fellow human beings, and our powers acknowledge that. With me so far?”

  “I’m listening,” I said.

  “There’s other limitations or advantages that come with the powers. Sundancer over there can’t be burned. Temperature completely and one hundred percent normalizes within a certain range of her body. Our old buddy Shadow Stalker could pass through surfaces but never sank into the ground and fell to the center of the Earth. And Scrub here, with his uncontrolled power, never blasts the ground out from under his feet, and he’s far less likely to collapse a building onto his own head by accidentally destroying a critical support. Why?”

  Nobody volunteered an answer. Tattletale smiled.

  She explained, “Looking at this, I’m thinking it’s because the same passengers that give us our powers are connecting us to some other parallel Earth. Maybe even individual collections of Earths for each of us, so that there’s no ugly interactions when two powers meet. Scrub here shunts matter into an Earth where there’s architecture roughly corresponding to our own, but he won’t tear up his own footing because he’s shunting in the more permanent elements as his power shunts stuff out. When Shadow Stalker displaces her mass, she displaces it into another Earth, distributing her mass and her footing across the two worlds. She’s stillall there, she’s just not all here. And when Sundancer superheats her immediate area, she’s doing what Scrub does, and shunting a roughly human-shaped patch of superheated air and fire into a parallel Earth, shunting room temperature air into her immediate surroundings.”

  “Doesn’t that mean that they’d be causing destruction in some hapless world?” Wanton asked.

  “Good question.” Tattletale grinned. ”Yes. Probably. Could be that every time Sundancer’s power protects herself, she’s setting the approximate location of her other Earth on fire. Nothing’s saying that other Earth is populated, but it could be.”

  I shivered. It was too much to think about. ”Does that apply to other powers? Mine doesn’t really protect me.”

  “Ah,” Tattletale grinned. She raised a finger, “But here’s my question to you. What’s your power source? Where are you getting the energy you use to relay and receive information from your bugs in real-time? Keep in mind that so far, the only person who’s been able to intercept, understand and replicate your signals has
been Leet.“

  “You’re saying that when I got my powers, my passenger picked a suitable Earth, and I’ve been… what? Leeching power from it?”

  “Possible. Or drawing power from two hundred or two hundred million Earths. Maybe it’s ambient light and radiation, and you’re condensing that energy into something you can use.”

  “Am I hurting or killing people?” I asked.

  “Who knows?” Tattletale shrugged. She flashed me a smile. ”Maybe your passenger picked a few barren Earths with no people at all. Earths where life never evolved, or where humankind went extinct. Or maybe you’re drawing a teeny, tiny bit of energy from millions of worlds, to the point that nobody would ever notice.”

  “Or maybe you’re turning another Earth’s Brockton Bay into a cold, barren wasteland,” Regent commented.

  Don’t want to think about it, I thought. It wasn’t like I could even turn my power off, short of killing myself or removing every bug from my vicinity.

  “It’s… a bit of a leap,” Tecton said, “To go from looking a piece of pavement to thinking on that scale.”

  “It’s only a theory, but I’ve been giving a lot of thought to powers in general, and my teammates know I’m pretty good with this stuff. Now, I want you to imagine this. Think about all the complex processing and work that goes into managing powers. Hell, Skitter can individually control every insect in her swarm and simultaneously give each a completely different instruction. My own power, it’s similar. Tecton’s brainpower, his processing as he thinks about engineering, architecture… where’s that work taking place? Our brains certainly aren’t capable of it.”

  “The other world?” I asked.

  “But how? Who?” she asked.

  “Tell me,” I said.

  “Insofar as we’ve even thought about passengers, we’ve been sort of inclined to think about them as being pretty small. After all, the way Bonesaw talked about them, they’re these things that work their way into our heads, bond with our brains and then burn themselves off in the process of reconfiguring how our heads work. Right? But anything as small as what she’s describing wouldn’t possibly be able to do what we need to manage our powers. So what I’m asking is… what if they’re big? Massive. What if each and every passenger is picking us, for whatever reason, they find us and then they bind to us. They connect to us by rewiring a tiny part of our tiny brains, and through that extra lobe, they connect us to all the other parallel Earths, including the one where they reside? Maybe they’re physical, maybe they’re more ethereal, I dunno, they could be plant or animal, but they’re there. Lifeforms that could be titanic, the size of cities, continents or moons, lurking in some other parallel Earth and attaching themselves to us with a thread, a fine hair that stretches across dimensions to a lobe in our brain, sending and receiving all necessary data. And things like that are connected to each and every one of us who have powers and those of us who don’t, existing only to process our abilities, to absorb and channel the necessary energies, signals and information, and make each and every one of us into…”