The Weaver's Web: Book II, Chapter 11

Aisha had asked me to come, at least to stay in the audience. The PRT agreed, maintaining the myth that I was merely a helpful civilian and that my selection to be part of the Arcadia class coming to the unveiling was just a coincidence.

And it was, according to most of them. I’d listened in, piecing out their talk from the hubbub of the crowd at the student assembly.

I wasn’t about to use any of my homemade equipment. Not for something like this. Not with Armsmaster around.

And not a single mention of The Investigator among them.

“Ladies and Gentlemen! Krewe!”

And that’s when I heard the same song she’d played at school, giggles running through my classmates and the junior high and elementary school students in the front. There were fewer adults than there would be for a Protectorate introduction, with a few reporters in the front. I’d suggested, using my other persona, that Cho use some of her clout to come here. She’d been surprised, but had agreed.

It was a bit of a risk, but if Aisha did what she’d planned to do…

I wanted a friendly reporter here. Someone who wouldn’t bury it or understate what was said.

Up on the stage, as the three shadow forms paraded, were Miss Militia, Armsmaster, and Emily Piggot. Other than Tenebrae, there were no other wards

Outside my bugs had detected someone moving around fast—Velocity. A few groups on roofs, and as I’d come in, I’d noted that they were armed with heavy weapons. The BBPD was on alert, and from my sources, while the assumption was only someone insanely stupid would try to kill Aisha again, Emily Piggot was unwilling to depend on assuming that everyone in the Empire was sane.

Said precautions extended to checking everyone with some kind of tinkertech wand.

There was a reason why, for the first time in a while, I had absolutely nothing on me you wouldn’t expect from a high school student. I’d even forgone building up a large number of bugs in the area, just leaving the normal number of bugs, which did leave me feeling a little naked.

The introduction was like many I’d seen before. Aisha’s Numbers played a game of badminton with each other, and one gave a speech—but far, far less than they could do. She stated how she’d been attacked by the Empire, and how the Protectorate and some bystanders had saved her.

It didn’t bother me. Right now, Aisha was part of that organization, and a boost to their rep was a boost to her rep. Then she paused, and I saw the heroes tensing, along with the Image Rep.

Aisha had been wearing a uniform styled along the Krewe’s of New Orleans, but she’d had a simple domino mask on, which had led to some comments. Sure, everyone knew who she was at school, but now…

“And Hi, everyone,” she said, pulling hte mask off. “My day job is Krewe, but I’m Aisha Laborn.” There was muttering from the news reporters, and Cho was smirking as she realized why she was the only one there with any seniority.

The other reporters had evidently not being paying enough attention to the goings on at Arcadia, and that meant she’d have a bit of a scoop. For which she’d be in my debt.

“So, you know, I think that people need to understand that I just had a big misunderstanding with the E88. I mean, I’m a 14-year-old and well, everyone remembers the last time they triggered the Endbringer sirens for one of us.”

There was a bit of laughter. Louder from the kids, more uncomfortable from some of the adults. Most of the kids were from good neighborhoods, where you didn’t have to face the worst of the Bay. But the adults… Cho had a predatory smile on her face, no doubt thinking about her one expose on how many minorities got arrested… and then were mysteriously released with no charges, even if they were held for the full 72 hours, almost as if the point was to make them fearful.

“But you know, I think a dead white guy said it best, so I’m gonna do a riff on him, so it’s Shakespeare coming at you via Krewe!” Then she paused and took a different pose, her three Numbers fading out of existence, leaving just one kid on the stage, looking surprisingly vulnerable. The Image guy was moving forward, but Piggot motioned him back with a tiny shake of her head, even though she didn’t look pleased.

Why should she? Aisha hadn’t bothered to tell them of this part.

“Friends, Brocktonites, countrymen, lend me your ears.
I have come to aid thee, not to parade in costume.
The evil that men do effects us all;
The good is oft overshadowed by the pagentry.
So let it not be with me. The noble Kaiser
Hath told you we are feral.
If it were so, it is a grievous fault,
And grievously have we answered it.
Here, under the eyes of the Kaiser and the Empire
(For Kaiser is an honorable man;
So are they all, all honorable men),
Come I to speak at this august proclamation.
An announcement of intent, Just and Fast to me,
But Kaiser says we are amoral,
And Kaiser is an honorable man.”

She paused, and the audience was silent, even the younger kids, entranced, though many of them seemed to be confused by the old wording.

Mom would have loved this.

“We hath lived and died in Brockton
Whose bounties did the general coffers fill:
Did in this minorities seem uncivilized?
When that the disenfranchised have cried, we hath all been the poorer;
Uncivilized should be made of sterner stuff.
Yet Kaiser says we are barbarous,
And Kaiser is an honorable man.
You all did see that on the news
Many have we battled to protect the city,
Which all too often we have failed. Was this above our station?
Yet Kaiser says we are ambitious,
And sure he is an honorable man.
I speak not to disprove what Kaiser spoke,
But here I am to speak what I do know.
You all have known us each and every one, not without sympathy.
What cause holds you, then, to hate us?—
O empathy, thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their reason!—Bear with me;
My heart is in the graveyard there with the other victims,
And I must pause till it come back to me.”

Aisha had been talking, until the last few sentences, and there she stopped, and her voice grew weak for a moment. Not a show. Not a put-on. I knew what it was.

I remembered feeling the same when I’d spent the day trying to excuse Emma. Trying to remember what I’d done wrong. Until I realized I hadn’t done anything wrong. Aisha was remembering what had happened to her, not just her Trigger, but the thing that made it smart for me to call my father to come to help get her at a movie—just in case someone wanted to ‘make a point’.

She paused, took a deep breath, and then smiled. “And there we go!” she said.

Then there was other stuff, the rest of the PRT and Protectorate people moving forward and manfully rewriting the show on the fly… but it didn’t matter. Adults were talking, some of the high school kids were talking.

People hadn’t expected this. And because they hadn’t expected this, it would get more publicity. Maybe even be a bit on the national news. And if it got repeated now and then, for the next few weeks, the image of a black teen, almost murdered, refusing to hide her face, and throwing the words of one of the most well-known playwrights in the world back at them…

It would not destroy the Empire. No. But there was nothing that by itself could destroy the Empire. This was a war on all fronts, not just one, and Aisha had struck her blow, mocking the Empire while showing that they might be able to kill her, but they could now cow her.

And beyond everything else, imagining Kaiser watching this and grinding his teeth brought a little smile to my face.

Speech taken from Veivisurter, with permission and thanks.