Web of the Weaver: Post Game Interludes

“Tattletale,” the voice spoke without bothering to introduce itself.

Coil. Angry. Angry at you… what the hell?

“Yeah, Boss?”

“Your operation to disrupt the Empire’s activities seem to have assisted another cape.”

“What?”  Lisa frowned. The raid had been chaotic, but there hadn’t been another cape there, not active. They’d pulled out before the Empire could get anyone else there.”

“I have sources. According to them a certain cape named Orb Weaver was also there.”

Lisa went still.

Nobody was… a stranger?  Strangers could interfere with her power. “What did he do?”

“Took pictures, provided them to the PRT. The Empire is furious, given the amount of money this cost them. They may take it out on you.”

Orb Weaver used us as a distraction? Lisa winced. It was hard to pick up info if there wasn’t much there to begin with, but it made sense except… How did he know we were there?

Or maybe it had been a coincidence. Lisa opened up her laptop and started going over everything anyone knew about Orb Weaver, which… wasn’t much. Took out the Merchants, a few stories about ominous voices threatening people, but not a lot to go on.

“I’m sending you some information the PRT has collated.”

Not worried. Irritated. Orb Weaver pushed things further than he wanted.Not just Coil. Lisa had been concerned about the raid, but the money had made up for it, but if they were on the Empire’s hit list…

Lung was bad. But Lung only had two capes, so he couldn’t exactly drop everything and go after you.

The Empire could.

Maybe that was his intention? Orb Weaver had destroyed the Merchants without ever throwing a punch. Putting the Undersiders in the same position would fit his MO.

Then the information started appearing on her laptop. Taken from PRT analysts. Coil has deep penetration, likely—Lisa pulled herself back to the matter at hand, rather than letting her power tell her what she already knew.

“What do you think?”

Lisa didn’t like getting pressed like this, but she finished going through the synopsis.

Likely an older cape, not a new trigger. Too subtle, and aware of their power…“Maybe, someone who triggered due to the Merchants or E88, but who took their time. Yeah, older would make sense.”

“Really?”

Younger parahumans tend to act out. Behave atypically. Atypical behavior makes…Once again, Lisa wrestled her power back under control, before it wandered off and reminded her how Coil had managed to capture her. Bitch, Grue, even Regent didn’t exactly go for this kind of chessgame. On the other hand…

“Maybe a stranger. Someone like Nice Guy.”

There was silence for a moment. “What makes you think that?”

“The Empire would have been on alert. There were guys all over there. How did someone get close enough to take pictures?”

“Good enough to spoof your power?”

Lisa shrugged. “Depends on what kind of power it was. Nice Guy went after Thinkers like me, after all.” On the other hand, where does the ominous voice and dark spectres fit in?  

Coil was silent. 

Doesn’t like the possible implications. Worried about the potential threat.

No duh, power. Nice Guy didn’t have the ability to make the air talk, either. And it was clear that Orb Weaver, whoever he was, really liked headgames from what the PRT report Coil had sent to her said, Lisa flicking through the pages.

“I want you to start investigating this Orb Weaver. He might be a useful member of the Undersiders.”

“Uh, what about the Empire?”

“I have sources. They’re angry, but as yet, not planning a directed strike. Stay out of their territory for now. In fact, lay low.”

“Don’t have to tell me that twice.”

Moments later, Lisa was alone in her room, staring at the information.

If he’s a stranger good enough to get around me, he’s good enough to get around you… and maybe I could convince him to give me a hand…

And if worst came to worst, Lisa might be able to manipulate him into taking out Coil for her.

*****

Robin zipped along the streets. His weakness in attacking at speed left some to discount him—but he didn’t need to hit a lot of people, just phone it in to the PRT or BBPD.

And it gave him time to think. Colin had rigged up an earbud with a selection of books on tape and Robin could read an entire book during part of his patrol. Right now, it was the German translation of the Hobbit, one of his childhood favorites. Reading books in different languages often helped you understand differences in the way cultures saw things, by how they phrased each part of the book.

The Investigator.

Not a big deal. Everyone talked about the big-time capes, but there were just as many with small powers, little tricks really, that let them get ahead. The biggest risk to those capes was the potential to think they had more than they did and get into a fight with someone they couldn’t beat.

Fortunately, it didn’t look like The Investigator was falling into that trap. She’d introduced herself, unveiled a minor theft, and from Robin’s followup after she’d left, convinced a vendor to try a stunt that was… actually pretty smart.

Her voice was young, no older than twenty or so, Robin bet, and the British accent was probably affected. Not many people would know that, but Robin collected languages, and part of learning a language involved learning how people spoke it. And British English was not American English. She’d done well, he doubted many others would notice it. Certainly she was no Krieg, whose affected accent sounded like something you’d get out of a low-budget Second World War film.

So why is she here? The Bay was known as a place where a lot of parahumans came, compared to other cities, but someone like her, if her powers were as limited as she claimed, would want to avoid places where Hookwolf was a threat, and a thinker power, even a minor one, would let you get ahead in many towns without a large parahuman population.

Master of Sparks, Nevada, might not get you respected on PHO, but you could make a lot of money there, and not risk running into neonazis or the ABB. It was why more than a few thinkers, save for the big-time ones, such as Accord, tended to find work with other groups or move to obscure places they could do their own thing.

Unless she’s a native and doesn’t want to leave. Which might make sense if her trigger event is tied up with the city.Maybe someone who had been robbed, especially in a white collar crime, and now had something to do about it? Or who had gone out of business? The power seemed to involve some form of superior perception, but powers could be weird, and it might only be triggered by situations of loss. The store losing money due to the shoplifting, the owner losing her business.

On the other hand, she seemed happy to be a small fish in a large pond, which would definitely make Director Piggot happy.

Turning off his book, Robin started to dictate his report as he zipped through the streets, people frozen in slow motion around him.

That was another benefit of his power, one that, for the sake of harmony, he didn’t rub into his teammates’ faces.

He was always ahead on his reports.

*****

“Start looking into our own people,” Max Anders said. “Everyone agrees the Undersiders didn’t have a chance to look at much before they took off. Certainly not enough time to get serial numbers.”

But more than enough time to cover for someone else.

“Should we deal with them?” Victor asked.

Max shook his head. “Not yet. The Undersiders are petty thieves, and yet all of a sudden they hit an Empire operation—and they had to know it was an Empire operation unless someone wants to suggest they stumbled over it by accident.”

Nobody said anything. Fortunately, Max wasn’t interested in dealing with idiots.  This was going to cost them, but a source in the FBI had revealed the plans for the raid, and Max had managed to cut off any direct evidence of links between the middleman and anything vital.  Everyone knew it, but the one man who could have told the whole story was currently at the bottom of a ravine where he’d run off the road.

Crusader’s ghosts had a number of uses, after all.

Of course, plugging that leak meant that Max would have to find someone else, and they would need time to be trusted, especially after this. Other suppliers would be reluctant to trust them—at least immediately. He might not have been a cape, but he had organized a number of the Empire’s East Coast ventures, and now someone would have to take up his job.

Max didn’t have penetration high enough to find out how the PRT had gotten the information or from who. Maybe a new Stranger? Not the PRT—they would have gone for everyone involved.

“Let the rank and file know that this won’t go unanswered. Someone has just signed their death warrant.”

That would keep the rabble in line while they plugged the leak, and if a few people found that the streets were a little more dangerous for non-whites, it’d just be a reminder that the only thing pushing the Empire got you was the Empire pushing back.

Nodding, he started on the other business of the day.