Web of the Weaver: Chapter 28

I finished my steak and then looked at Carol.

“I have a friend who… became involved with this lawyer. I cannot say anything else, save to state that they are not involved in any illegality that I know of.”

“A family law issue, then.”

“Yes.” I nodded. “But I dislike. Going into a situation uninformed. My investigations revealed a number of disturbing facts, and yes, your statements which are a matter of public record. I was surprised that the Bar did not take them more seriously.”

“Mr. Timmis is very good at walking the line.” She paused. “And unfortunately, the Bar Association can be very reluctant to take action.”

“You believe they are corrupt?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No. But the problem is that the Bar Association must also walk a… fine line. Family law isn’t full of clear cut lines. The difference between getting the best possible deal for your client and victimizing them or gaming the legal system can often be a very… fuzzy one.” She pressed her lips together. “One reason I am more happy to work as a criminal attorney. But put simply, there are members of the Bar who fear being too strict might lead to lawyers refusing to take cases. And of course the Bar is made up of… Lawyers.”

I nodded. “I see. But you believe Mr. Timmis has transgressed those lines.”

“Yes.”

“I believe you are right.” I paused. “My investigations show that he has a pattern of taking cases he should know he cannot win…and being a bulldog until he has extracted all the money he can… at which point the case suddenly develops flaws.”

“And are you well enough educated to know those are flaws in truth?” Carol asked.

She is testing me. Well, I suppose a lawyer would not be over given to trust. And I’d studied nearly sixty books on law. I wasn’t a lawyer, far from it, but… I was a very well informed layperson.

That was something I would always have to be cautious of. I could learn quickly… but book learning did not make me an expertin a field. From my reading it was a common flaw of thinkers.

“I believe so. But that is why I reached out to you. You are a lawyer, and even if you are not a family law attorney, I doubt you would have placed your complaint without adequate proof.”

“You’re very interesting. You don’t come across as many thinker’s I’ve met.”

I paused, while my bugs went still. “Oh? I hope you’re not implying that I’m a brute masquerading as a thinker.”

“No. But you lack the… certainty of most thinker’s I’ve dealt with, outside of the Protectorate. They have programs to help train their thinkers, but independent thinkers have no such advantage and often find themselves defaulting to letting their powers lead them.”

“I… find certainty to be dangerous. When I first began my career…” I shook my head. “My power led me in a dangerous direction.”

I wasn’t lying, as I remembered the day before I found Mom’s books. I could right now be out there, assuming all I needed were my bugs.

“Very well, what do you want from me? This isn’t a criminal case.”

“No. But Mr. Timmis…” I paused. “I am not a fan of simply punching problems into submission. Beyond the fact that I am…” I raised my hands and smiled. “Singularly poorly equipped to play in the arena Eidolon enjoys, simply punching doesn’t solve the problem. Mr. Timmis has taken advantage of the law to shield his misdeeds: the law must be what deals with him. I could, were I willing to break the law, shut him down, be it by my own actions or recruiting others, but that wouldn’t make the system better. It would make it worse.”

“And?”

“And I need the assistance of a lawyer. Someone who understands the law, who can assist me in building a case against Mr. Timmis that will both end his ability to do wrong, and as much as possible, compensate those he has harmed.” I leaned back. “After all, I am The Investigator, and without law, investigations have little importance.”

I found myself realizing that I wasn’t simply giving Mrs. Dallon a reason, but I believed it. Terrifying Timmis into submission would be easy—for Orb Weaver. But what then? He’d just run off to another city, to find more desperate people willing to take any hope.

“There will have to be some ground rules,” Carol said. “If you wish to do this by law, understand that some of the tactics vigilantes enjoy cannot be used. Many of my cases have been won or lost because some vigilante decided to introduce a recording into court.”

I knew this. “Which was not admissible because the vigilante refused to reveal their identity.”

“Correct.” Carol shook her head. “Those rules are often… less directly enforced when the defendant is a cape, but against a normal human, they are very heavily enforced, perhaps why so many vigilantes have such a minor impact on crime.”

It was inconvenient for me, but then that was why I had spent so much time studying parallel construction.

As I was doing right now.

“Interviews, however, are admissible.”

“So long as the subject will attest that they were not gained by force, trickery, or a parahuman power.” She paused. “Understand that it is highly likely Mr. Timmis would, presuming we found information on him, attempt to get those interviews removed from consideration while claiming you were a Master.”

“I understand.”

“You are not a Master, even passively?”

“No. I have no control over people. I merely read them very well.”

“Very well. As long as you do not break the law in this… mission, I will help you. If you can provide me with enough information, I can go back to the Bar, or possibly the District Attorney. I will send a list of requirements to your email in how you should conduct your interviews. Understand, if you move beyond those guidelines, our cooperation will be over.”

“I understand.”

“Very well.”

The rest of the meal was occupied with pleasantries, and soon I found myself leaving. The sun was touching the horizon. It would be dark soon.

Time for Orb Weaver to go for a stroll.

*****

After I’d changed into Orb Weaver’s civilian disguise, with my hat and scarf ready if I had to mask up, I went for my walk.

I spent some of my time on patrol thinking about the restrictions I’d be laboring under. I expected that Carol would be alert for “finding” evidence after I’d used parahuman powers to discover it. So I really would have to be The Investigator for this.

It would be interesting, not at all like I’d functioned as Orb Weaver.

Orb Weaver had no lines he was worried about. Orb Weaver was the terror in the night. Orb Weaver, if he was called into the case would surround Timmis with a lurking fear, reveal his secrets as if by magic, destroy him, step by step.

Nobody would ever mistake The Investigator for Orb Weaver.

After all Parahumans were very invested in their identities.

A block away, the air cleared its throat and an ominous chirring sound rose up around a group of E88 gangers getting ready to tag a building.

“My, my. What do I see with my little eye…”

They dropped their spraycans and ran. I let them go. I was feeling expansive today, after all. I did pause, and once the alleyway was empty, sent my bugs out in a tide, effacing the half painted E88 symbol, and cleaning the grime away to create a symbol of the Orb Weaver.

There. Just because I let them go, didn’t mean I wouldn’t leave a reminder.

I walked into the E88 center, the streets busy with shoppers, nearly all white. I ducked into one little store and bought a bag of sweets. Not everyone here was E88.

They just enjoyed the safety the E88 brought.

Which was another point. Once I had removed the E88 from the city, I would have to ensure that they were protected. After all, if they associated the E88 leaving with crime returning… No, I’d have to fix that.

I sighed.

I could see the attraction simply punching people had for many heroes.

But as I passed the Iron Cross, eating my sweets, insects flew up to where the recorder was. Pulling the microSD card out was easy, as was replacing it. I turned the street and kept walking, now heading for the boardwalk, the crowded streets safe.

Both for ordinary citizens and gang members. Who would do anything, here in the center of the E88’s power?

I held out my hand, and zipping down, an insect dropped the microsd in my hand. I pulled out my record, inserted the microSD and put my earphones on. I could get a start.

“Working on…”

“Fucking chinks…”

“…nah, man, you have to be nice to…”

A hundred conversations. Some to dim for me to understand but every other one, I separated and listened to.

“Got a shipment coming in. Nah, the usual sources. We’ll be bringing it in at 8:00. Have your guys ready. Fourth and L…”

Ah, I’ll have to set up some surveillance. It was a pity that they hadn’t revealed the time. Still, a spider was patient…

“Gonna give the city a lesson. Found out what bitch told on our shipment and turned the Undersiders loose on us.”

What?

“Really, man?”

“Yeah. Jake got it from some PRT guy. She was the one who told ‘em. Black whore, named Aisha.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Don’t have to do anything. Some of the boys are gonna make her regret it.”

“When?”

“Don’t think I’d be celebrating if it was gonna happen next month. When we let Kaiser know we’ve solved his problem…”

A cheer from the crowd around the MMA show silenced them. I didn’t need to know anymore. Maybe it wasn’t my Aisha. But the connection to the Undersiders… No. It was her. I knew it.

I pulled out my phone.

“Yo, boring people, It’s Aisha and I’m way to busy to listen to you, and yeah, bro, I finished my school work!”

Dammit! “Aisha, this is Taylor.” I couldn’t spend time playing around with false identities for this. I’d solve the problem later, but not now! “The E88 is targeting you. If you have a Protectorate Panic Button, hit it now. If not, call your brother and tell him this. This isn’t a joke. Your life is in danger.”

Another phone call, this one a burner phone.

“PRT hotline, is this an emergency?”

“Yes. This is Orb Weaver.” The bugs around my face were invisible from the street, but they did their job. “Aisha Laborn is currently being targeted by the Empire. That is Aisha Laborn. You need to find her and get her to safety immediately. One of my associates has already warned her.”

“Understood.”

“Good.” I hung up. Hopefully, that would be enough.

I couldn’t run there or call Dad. It was time to call in a favor. Someone who didn’t need to worry about stopsigns.

“Hello?”

“Detective Harding. Where are you?” he told me. It was close, thank God. “You will pick me up at… 7th and Rhodes.”

“For what?”

“The Empire is about to murder a fourteen-year-old girl. I do not know if this is something their plants in the BBPD know about, but I’m not willing to risk it. I’ve alerted the Protectorate, but I also need to be there. Are you willing?” I gave him Aisha’s address.

“You’re between me and her. I’ll pick you up on the way. Hope you’re costumed.”

“I am. Hurry.”

I tried calling Aisha again. Nothing.

Would the PRT move fast enough? If there were parahumans there I wasn’t going to be enough. Time for one more Call.

“Bulwark. I need you.”

I was risking everything. My life, my identity, my plan.

But there came a point where you had to decide. Were you only going to fight when you weren’t at risk?

And I knew what my answer to that was. With that, I went into the alley, my bugs letting me know that nobody could see me, and put the scarf and hat on, turning out my longcoat, and then making certain my fighting sticks were ready. I didn’t have a lot of my other gadgets, just some firecrackers, noise makers, and smoke bombs. It would have to be enough.

A detective’s car, siren wailing, came screeching up to me, and I got in, the bugs under my jacket rumbling.

“You don’t look nearly as scary in person.”

“A personal failing.”

He flinched at the sound of my bugs rumbling under my clothes. They made it sound like my entire body was speaking.

“Never mind.”

And then we were going, and as we drove down the road, I placed commands in the bugs under the streets, in the sewers to head for Aisha’s home. I hoped I wouldn’t have to blow my secret, I’d do everything I could to avoid it…

But if not? Those who were threatening my friend would regret it.