The Weaver's Web: Book II, Chapter 9

Later that night, I left the house. The day had been…

Okay! Aisha said, standing with three of her Numbers. Not four.

Aisha was actually pretty good at keeping the full reach of her abilities quiet. I knew that she was lowballing the distances she could pull a Number out and teleport.

“Anyone up for Volleyball?”

It was interesting how quickly people seemed to just ignore the fact that Aisha had a power that was, in some respects, one of the more dangerous in the Bay. But Aisha had a way with people, one I’d never match. She’d even gotten Glory Girl to play on the other side, her sister looking like she wanted to leave as the blond and Aisha’s Numbers got into a game of murderball, until the coach called out to them to clear the court for the rest of us.

But now school was over. I’d spent some time with Aisha, ironing out her speech she’d be giving in two days. Now, it was time for me to go out.

As Orbweaver.

“Detective Harding…”

“Yeah?”

“I take it things have gone well for you?”

“E88’s pulled their horns in, for now.”

“And the police?”

“FBI’s sniffing around, along with the DOJ. A lot of cops looking pretty nervous. I bet Kaiser’s pissed that the little suicide he rigged didn’t fool anyone.”

“No. Shall we make their day worse?”

“Dunno. You dragging a fifteen-year-old into it again?”

“Ah. Taylor Hebert. What do you know of her?”

“I know that she…” There was a pause. “May be familiar with your work, and loves to read about Sherlock Holmes, but she doesn’t need to get pulled into a fight where people are shooting at her.”

So. He’d puzzled out The Investigator. There were ways he could have done it, by elimination or finding sources of his own, and he was a detective, after all.

“She profited from her assistance.”

“You got an in to the Protectorate, you mean.”

I paused for a moment, shaking my head as I stared at the burner phone. Evidently there was such as thing as being too sneaky. Harding evidently assumed I’d had no care for Taylor Hebert.

Which was false, but telling him the truth…

“That was merely a happy accident. My main goal was to save Aisha.”

“Did you know she was gonna trigger?”

“No. Some things are beyond even my senses. A person who triggers, disrupts the chain of their destiny. A such, such events are impossible for me to foresee.”

“I should ask you for lottery numbers.”

“You might not wish to see where that destiny would take you.” Not that he’d have to find out, since I couldn’t predict lottery numbers.

“Can you ever not be spooky?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. What’s your plan?”

“If their capes are in hiding, we need to take advantage to dismantle their non-cape infrastructure.”

“You’ve been doing that.”

“Not fast enough. The Empire prides itself on protecting the people of the Bay from the Scourge of drugs. In reality, they are involved in the drug trade, of course. But they currently cannot obtain the supplies they desire.”

“And?”

“Your corrupt evidence locker, sergeant. Has he had a chance to consider that while lower quality, those drugs could provide him with a tidy retirement, should he provide them to the Empire?”

“What would make him think that? Like I said, everyone is keeping their head down.”

“Why, you letting drop that the FBI is interested in him. That it is only a matter of time before they take action.”

“And we follow him.”

“No, Detective Harris. We follow the drugs. Because if the Empire is hurting, and they are, such a quantity of drugs would not be handled by street level operatives.”

“Fine, be terrifying. What if their capes turn up?”

“Then I will consider the day well spent.”

***** 

I put the phone down and leaned back. I wasn’t in the house, of course, and the phone went into its hiding place. Around me, I felt people moving, talking… no criminals right now.

I could do this myself. But that wouldn’t achieve my goal. I could prune crime, but only a functional police system could keep the E88 down.

Making use of a corrupt sergeant in order to both hurt the E88 and boost Detective Harris—who was, obviously, a very good detective, would help on numerous levels.

Part of my mission demanded that the BBPD become a name for the E88 to fear, not smirk at.

And speaking of that…

*****

It was dark when I got to the neighborhood I’d bought goods in. The E88 enforcers were less confident, keeping to the shadows more. Fear of the ABB more than the police. Lung would have no opposition. But he didn’t attack. In truth, Lung appeared satisfied with his position.

Laziness or intelligence. Lung held the Asian sections of town, where fear of the E88 did at least as much as his own power to keep people loyal.

Oddly enough, there was little sign that Lung himself was racist against non-Asians. In fact the few non-Asian, minority gangs, the Zoot Suits and Zulus, largely kept to the fringes of Lung’s turf where Empire capes were not free to act. Rumor claimed they paid tribute to Lung, but I wasn’t certain. With only one cape between them (the Zoot Suits had a minor brute/changer combo), they were no threat to Lung, but he didn’t seem to demand overt subservience.

But… I’d considered it, and it was a message to other parts of the Bay. The Empire wouldn’t leave you alone. Lung would, so long as you did what he said. So without starting a war, he’d managed to gain at least the passive acceptance of much of the population, those who were tired of the Empire and it’s agents in the BBPD.

Surprisingly perceptive.

But now… Now I sent my bugs flying up in the dusk where nobody saw them. They would crawl around, never enough in one place to look unusual, as they dipped the material I’d bought. A photo-reactive paint that would be transparent until it was hit by sunlight. Expensive and often sold for parties or jokes.

I wonder if tomorrow, when the sign of the Orb Weaver appeared over the signs of every E88 affiliated business, they would see the joke?

Ah well.

Nazis were notoriously lacking in humor. With that thought, I turned for home.