Web of the Weaver Chapter 30

For a few moments, there was quiet, and then it seemed like half the city descended on us. A helicopter whirred overhead, and my bugs detected PRT troops and police setting up a cordon while sobbing men were put into the back of cars.

Given their lack of bladder and bowel control, it sounded like the officers in those particular units were not pleased.

But I had to think. There was no way to disguise the fact that I had come from above—the sand and pebbles showed my footprints as I had dragged Aisha out of the water.

And there were no other footprints nearby, and people had seen me—Orb Weaver, run through the mob.

If I denied it, they would dig. And the more they dug, the bigger the chance of my entire house of cards collapsing.

So.

Give them something, something that would see them stop looking, or if that wasn’t possible, start looking down other avenues.

But right now, nobody was talking to me, but I could see the slight hesitation in the police as they came down. They might not know who I was, but they thought I might be a cape, and the impact on the E88 gangers had been fairly obvious.

Aisha was being strapped to a stretcher.

“I’m okay, dammit!” she said. “Like those fuckers could stop me.”

“Aisha,” I said. “You need to go with them. You sucked down a lot of water. They’ll need to check you out. Besides, if your brother finds out you walked out of here…”

“Man, he’s gonna freak… Um, can you come along?”

“I think I will,” I told her. Aisha needed a calming voice but…

But Velocity was looking at my sodden form. A form of a 15 year old teenager, who, if he had read the PRT files, had mainly been important due to her utter inability to stop three girls from bullying her.

There had been dozens—hundreds of would-be masterminds who had gone up against the Protectorate. Far fewer were around today. Underestimating them would be a fool’saction. I had to be very careful.

Now, there was the sound of a whirring exoskeleton.

Armsmaster. Coming down, he took everything in at a glance.

Including the footprints and drag marks.

“Velocity, report?”

“One subject triggered, Ms. Hebert rescued her from drowning.”

There was a pause and Armsmaster, the guy I’d had on my well when I was 13, stared at me.

“There were several severe injuries among the E88 gangers above. The use of a baton. You have been taking self-defense classes?”

I knew a trap when I saw it. No normal person could become that skilled, that quickly.

“I’m not Orb Weaver,” I said. “I… was requested to assist. Orb Weaver wished to resolve the incident, if possible, without overly traumatizing anyone and he is not… comforting.” While I was talking I let myself assume a slightly different pose. As if I was forgetting I wasn’t in costume and playing the role of The Investigator. “He loaned me some clothes. As for the gangers, I was lucky, nothing more.”

“Hm.” He looked around and frowned.

Likely estimating how much luck an unskilled person would need.

“Yo Taylor, you coming with me? They’re gonna be using sirens!”

I glanced up. Thank you, Aisha. That gave me some time to think.

But was she really snapping back that fast or just putting a happy face on things? She was definitely doing better than I had, but, every Trigger was different, according to the material I’d studied.

But then I was following an officer to the ambulance. Bulwark was talking to Assault looking…

Well, as timid as a ten-foot-tall golem could look.

I would have just a few minutes. I couldn’t talk to Aisha, we were observed. I expected that the PRT would interview Bulwark, the detective, and everyone else separately. It was common procedure, of course.

Which meant that anything I told had to be truthful, at least as far as it went.

“Man, Bro’s gonna freak when he hears about how you went all scuba on me.” Aisha grinned. “Gonna wanna take you out for a date, I’ll bet!”

Is she—no, it’s just post-trigger stress. That was more comforting.

“I expect he’ll be more concerned about you going out,” I told her. “I’m afraid your life may be a little—don’t try and use your powers!” I said quickly. “You have no idea if they have any unusual features, and an ambulance is not the place to find out.”

Aisha lowered one hand, a grumpy look on her face.

And a medic, one from the PRT glanced at me.

Damn. It.

When we got to the PRT building, Aisha was whisked away. Cars were coming into the parking structure, and there was a steady stream of people moving in.

I was taken to another room, and a medic checked me out, while dry clothes were provided.

“You work out?” she asked.

“Yes.” I nodded. “I got tired of looking like an upright frog.”

“You don’t look like that. Took a lot of strength to get down there and get the girl out of the water. Lots of smarts as well.”

“I was… fortunate.”

“Ah-heh.”

And then I was being ushered in to see… Director Emily Piggot, and Armsmaster. The director was a rotund woman, not at all like some of her earlier file pictures. Veteran of Ellisburg, and evidently injured beyond even Panacea’s capabilities.

That was my assumption, at least.

“Ms. Hebert. You seem to run into parahumans surprisingly often,” her tone was dry.

She knows—or suspects. Well, I’d hinted as much to Armsmaster, but the question was, what would benefit me most? Trying to pretend ignorance, only to be caught, or come clean instantly. I couldn’t use my bugs in the room, even to tag anyone. The PRT would have sensors I knew nothing about, and I expected that neither Armsmaster nor Director Piggot were unperceptive.

“Regrettably, in at least a few cases.” I could observe them both, keep my attention on both of them. Director Piggot’s poker face didn’t change, but Armsmaster frowned.

“Sophia Hess,” he said. “Another case of a parahuman associated with the PRT being outed.”

Ah. Was this an attack on the Protectorate, or chance? And Orb Weaver was involved in both cases.

“I think…” I glanced at them. “You believe I might be a parahuman. The Locker?”

“We were concerned,” Director Piggot said.

Ah, this is a test. They know, or believe they know, but they want me to talk, and possibly catch me in a lie. After all, Orb Weaver could be setting this up. Arranging events to ingrate himself with the PRT.

At least, that would be one theory.

“Forgive me for saying this, but Aisha’s attack makes me… Well, could you be certain the information I gave you was not given to third parties?”

“The information in this room will not go beyond you, myself, Armsmaster, and Dragon.”

“Very well, I am The Investigator, at least in public.” I paused.

There was a slight change to Emily’s expression, and Armsmaster leaned back.

I believe I had just avoided something of a trap—or a test.

“As we thought,” Armsmaster said.

“May I ask how?” Was I that bad…

“I analyze most new parahumans, and upon seeing you at the beach made a conclusion.” He held out his hand and a hologram appeared, showing me, and next to me The Investigator, evidently a shot from the Boardwalk. Then I was outlined in a wireframe, which proceeded to change. “Enhancing the bustline is easily accomplished, and tends to distract attention, when I ran a comparison…” there was an image and suddenly there I was, wearing nothing, fortunately with Barbie anatomy, and a comparison chart showed. “There was a 60 percent commonality between you two, increased to an 80 percent when your gait was taken into consideration as there are certain aspects that cannot be concealed.”

I stared, and my bugs inside the walls started to shiver. I knew I didn’t have much of a figure, but having it rubbed in my—

“Thank you, Armsmaster, you can shut the image down, now.” Director Piggot frowned, then shook her head.

“Normally, we wouldn’t be this blunt, but the Empire will be out for blood after this.”

“They will?” I frowned. “But the reaction from the Protectorate…”

“Will hurt them. This has happened before.” Director Piggot’s expression looked thunderous, then she shook her head. “After All Father’s demise, and a few other occasions. But the Empire is very good at weathering these storms, and as of now, it appears that all of their capes have vanished from their normal haunts.”

“And while Aisha is a family member of a Ward, she is not a Ward.”

“Yes, how did you know that?”

“Brian called me to help find Aisha,” I told her. “He met another individual, who looked like Tattletale of the Undersiders, who he wasn’t happy to see. The Undersiders recently lost Grue, who was roughly of the same build, and is to be inducted into the Wards.” Thinkers liked to talk. I would play to the stereotype. “To steal my inspiration’s phrase, it was elementary.”

“We’ve called your father,” Director Piggot said. “I have no option on that, nor would I take it if I did.”

“The E88.”

“Yes. They’ll be looking for payback. Both you and your father could be targets. If you were to become a Ward…”

Here was the pitch. Blunt, but then Director Piggot felt like a blunt person.

“I… fear the law won’t let me.”

“How do you mean?” Armsmaster said. “The law is clear that the Protectorate—“

“Has jurisdiction over the wards. And Parahuman crime. Not normal crime, at least not most of the time.” I paused. “My power is minor, hardly significant in the greater scheme of things. I will never match wits with Accord, or battle Hookwolf. As A Ward, I would be a useless person in a costume, and barred from doing what I have been able to do. In the last several weeks, I have broken up an illegal gambling ring, assisted several individuals in recovering their property, and am currently in the process of investigating an attorney, a certain Mr. Timmis.” They would certainly know about that. If they assumed that any bad news about Mr. Timmis would help them…

Well. They were right.

Director Piggot stiffened for a moment, and then it passed. “I see. So you feel you would be more useful as a rogue.”

“I believe so. With respect, I am also… The events at Winslow made it difficult for me to interact with my peers. I might become a point of contention among the Wards.”

“I see. The Wards are a purely voluntary position, but, I suggest you speak to your father. The E88 has a long memory.” Then she glanced at Armsmaster. “And from our other reports, you might ease Aisha’s entry into the Wards. Should she join.”

“Ah.” Both hard and soft sell. “I will consider it with my father. Even if I were to not join the Wards, I see no reason I couldn’t help if say, my abilities were to come in handy.”

“We’ll consider it. Now, if you’ll excuse us, your father should be arriving soon, and then we’ll speak to both of you.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“One question,” Director Piggot asked. “Orb Weaver. How did you encounter him?”

I didn’t have to lie here. “Ah. When I gained my powers… they told me everything except what I needed to do. I think… I was seeking death in those first few weeks. I was in my home, preparing to go out, and well, Orb Weaver came upon me, and showed me a better way. He isn’t comforting… But I believe I owe him my life. He also assisted me in resolving the affair of Sophia, although that came with a price.”

“What price?”

“To assist him in his mission. To make the Bay a better place.” And with that, I left. Now time to meet Dad.