Web of the Weaver: Chapter 14

Content warning for racism.

Sitting in class, I was listening to Mr. Gladly’s lecture. We had fewer group projects, more individual tests. I was taking advantage of it to do something else—listen to four conversations at once. I’d decided to try my stunt with reading books with my direct senses…

And I could parse out several conversations if I tried. It was odd. I’d originally just assumed my power was to control insects, but it seemed to be so much more.

I’d sat down and thought about it for hours. I could control every insect for over a block around me. And I knew how manythere were. Each and every one’s status.

I’d explored on the Internet and read a story about a non-tinkertech researcher trying to build and control a single “insect bot.”

It’d taken a vast amount of time and effort and still wasn’t really as flexible as my power—and that was oneinsect.

Not millions.

Was my power about insects, or command and control, associated with insects? Powers tended to be idiosyncratic, and the information out there was contradictory. The Manton limit, for example.

“Emma was totally cracked,” Julia said to one of her friends. “I mean, what would you do? I just kept out of her way and let her pound on the weird girl.”

I would carefully not infest her new backpack with lice. I was better than that.

But the Manton limit made no sense. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. Mostly it seemed to be a way to keep from killing yourself, but… not always.

The books I’d found were full of exceptions, especially among the Case-53s.

“Taylor, what do you think about the Teeth?” Mr. Gladly asked.

I didn’t miss a beat. “They’re about the show.”

“What?” someone asked.

“The get up. They wear the teeth and bones of their enemies and have an unkillable, leader. They’re dangerous. Because of that, people don’t want to fight them.” I shrugged. “And they move around, so that you can never be entirely certain if you pushed them out or if they were already leaving.  They get a lot done without ever having to actually fight.”

There were other reasons, but while I needed the grade, I didn’t need to let too much out, and Mr. Gladly went on to someone else. Greg. Who immediately sidetracked the discussion to the question about whether or not any of the Teeth were the mythical cauldron capes.

I shook my head. If they were,did Greg think you’d be able to find that out on PHO like he was quoting, Mr. Gladly trying to bring him back to the conversation?

Parahumans on demand would be… Well, even a power like Squealers would be worth nearly any sum of money, if you could say, ensure it got to a mechanical engineer. If they existed, or were easy to find out about, people would be trumpeting the news from the skies.

Which meant that either they did not exist, or the people who passed them out were very serious about confidentiality.

Regardless, it wasn’t my problem right now. If the Empire or ABB had the ability to order capes on demand, the city would be a far different place.

Wandering out into the hallway, I kept practicing.

One girl was trying not to cry as she talked to her friend about her missed period, mentioning that her boyfriend had told her that missing one period didn’t mean you were pregnant. Her friend didn’t say anything for a moment, then told her that she’d heard of places by the docks that would fix any prob—

I wrenched my attention away. There were downsides to my power it seemed, and I didn’t have the solution to the world’s problems.

Not all of them.

Not yet.

“God, the new principal is an asshole, it was just a little weed…”

“Fuck, I’m going to flunk tomorrow, and Dad said one more blown test and I’m grounded forever—“

“You ready? We got a target for your initiation.”

I didn’t slow down as I walked past the two E88 members talking to another student. They weren’t wearing colors—the school no longer tolerated that but the buzzcuts and comments made it plain where there loyalties were.  They were looking around, but the jabber of the hallway was loud enough that they clearly felt safe to whisper.

But I could pick the conversation out.

“Who?”

“Fucking Darkie, who else. The guy down on Fourth and Wallace, the one that owns the store? Kaiser wants a message sent.”

“You… you talked to Kaiser?”

There it was, again, image.

“Nah, but the guy who told me what to do totally did.”

“Are we gonna kill him?”

He was nervous and eager. I remembered that tone from the first few times Emma had gone after me, as she psyched herself up to break another bond.

In the ventilation shafts, bugs started to twirl.

“Nah—I mean, if he fights back, sure, but remember I’ve been telling you to store the pee?”

“Yeah.”

“Gonna pour it all over him. He supposedly was some hot ass guy back in Vietnam, and he said nobody would chase him away. So we’re gonna kick the shit out of him, pour the pee on him and then they’re gonna roll him into the ER smelling like a jungle monkey that pissed himself!”

There was laughter, loud enough for others to hear. One short girl moved away from them.

I closed my locker. It looked like I would be joining some people for a party tonight. I wouldn’t have my special presents, I wasn’t yet finished with some of my reading material. I was kicking myself for not haunting the military surplus stores earlier. After all, manuals on unconventional warfare were very much something that could help me.

But not my targets.

I didn’t need tofollowthem. They’d given me their target after all.

*****

Lake’s Hardware, the sign read, patched and cleaned, the remains of racial epithets carefully painted over. “Since 1985” the sign read.

A gray haired, African-American man was humming as he cleaned the floors of the shop. It didn’t look like many people were using it. I could see why. This was part of the DMZ, the border between ABB territory and the Empire.

Protected by none, victimized by all.

I had my bugs, but giving someone I was trying to help a heart attack wasn’t a plan of mine.

I called him. Two rings and I heard his voice, older, cheerful.

“Lake's Hardware.”

“Mr. Lake, I am Orb Weaver. I do not know if you’ve heard of me.”

“The guy who took down the Merchants? PRT said you had a part in that.”

“A part. I regret to inform you that the Empire or some members have chosen you to be the victim of an initiation.”

“Finally got around to it, did they?”

“Yes. I might be able to assist, but you could be in danger. If you were to leave for—“

“Now you can hold off right there. I founded this place in 1985, me and Martha, God rest her soul. I’ll leave when I can’t work no more, but nobody is chasing me out. Not the Klan, not the Empire.”

“I see. It could mean your death.”

“Mr. Charles almost meant my death, back in Nam. Doctor said smoking’s gonna mean my death, but he dropped dead of a heart attack during a marathon in 2000, and here I am. Lot of things could mean my death, but I’m not gonna let ‘em run my life. Besides, I figure if I turned tail, what’d I have to live for?”

“I see…”

I thought furiously. If Orb Weaver defended this place, I would make him a target. But I couldn’t negotiate, not with the Empire, not over this. I might need…

Assistance. Someone who the Empire might not wish to risk antagonizing. Not without good cause.

The Protectorate? If the Protectorate helped, it would put their own reputation on the line. Kaiser would have to consider that going forward. For a simple initiation, would he risk a major conflict?

But I couldn’t be certain he wouldn’t, or that the Protectorate could consider a dying store in a dying part of town worth it.

The answer was… Not assistance. Not right now. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t be… proactive.

“Mr. Lake, I do not ask that you run, but if the Empire realizes I had a hand in this, that we are linked, you might be targeted, and I cannot stay here forever. Would you be willing to… put up an out-to-lunch sign at my signal? After all, it isn’t your fault if I just happen upon some individuals up to no good on a patrol.”

“I think I could do that. You do have a sneaky way about you.”

“Thank you.”

“You be careful now, you hear? The Empire isn’t any group to joke around. If they throw Hookwolf at you, run. Wouldn’t be the first time someone burned the store down, and it wouldn’t be the first time I rebuilt it.”

Not if I have anything to say about it.

“Thank you.”

*****

I had my bugs around the area, and when I picked up three individuals, the bugs I’d put on them coming into my range of control, I made a quick phonecall , and my shotgun mic ready to do from my hiding place.

And when they came to the storefront, it was closed, with a cheery “out to lunch” sign on the front.

“Fuck!” the leader said. “He never fucking goes out to lunch! Always eats in here like some fucking animal.”

“What are we gonna do?” the kid who was going to be initiated asked. “I can’t just keep storing the pee!”

“Fuck… We torch the place!” the third one said. “Show him Darkies aren’t wanted!”

“But we don’t got any gasoline!”

From my position, I shook my head. The Elite, these individuals weren’t.

“Yeah, look, we go into the alley, then we can pile up some trash on the side! That’ll burn the place down for certain!”

Soon, the three were moving into the alley, full of garbage. Whereupon another problem became apparent.

They had not considered this was a seacoasttown and fogs had been regularly rolling in.

“It’s not catching fire!”

“I—fuck, my hands!” a lighter fell to the ground.

“Maybe we can go buy some gasoline?”

I considered. Should I let them do that? That would be…

No. Besides, if they committed a crime like that, they might be completely cut off. I didn’t want them cut off.

I’d been gathering my minions, and now I sent them overhead, the sun blotted out by the endless legions of flying bugs. At the same time, I closed off the exit of the alleyway, forming some of my bugs into vaguely human-shaped forms, others into an amorphous mass.

“Well. Well. Well. I go for a walk, and what do I find. Three little mice…” I made my voice adopt a rumbling, resonant sound, a voice of a legion.

“Who the fuck are you! You’d better back off! We’re Empire!”

I chuckled, as they clustered against each other, one holding the lighter he’d been trying to use to set a man’s business on fire in one hand. I sent a bug zipping down, invisible against the others, and its suicide snuffed the light, leaving the three in near darkness, unable to see exactly what was billowing around them. Bugs? Or something worse.

Just like I wanted.

“Empire? I think not. I can see your past, winding down the lines of probability. Looking at you, I see one wanna be racist, and two others who… Well, you’re not really part of the Empire. You know someone, but I doubt you’ve fought in Hookwolf’s pits, have you?” The others didn’t say anything.

“What was it you said… let me look into your souls… into your past…”I paused, and then spoke again. “Ah, here we are…”

“You ready? We got a target for your initiation.”

“Who?”

“Fucking Darkie, who else. The guy down on Fourth and Wallace, the one that owns the store? Kaiser wants a message sent.”

“You… you talked to Kaiser?”

“Nah, but the guy who told me what to do totally did.”

“You, you fucking read our minds?”

I laughed. “Minds might be overstating it. But I see you, and know you for what you are…” I paused. “But I digress. What should a hungry cat do with three little mice who thought they were wolves…”Now I sent spiders, invisible in the gloom, running over their clothes, attaching lines, other insects tugged on those lines. A flurry of moths ran around them, making the air tremble, like something was breathing on them.

“You—you—“

“Hush, mousy… I might be convinced to not eat you…”

“We ain’t gonna rat out the empire!” one said, his voice trembling.

“Of course not. You have nothing to tell.”And let whoever talked to them take that as they would. “But I’ll let you walk. Out of this neighborhood… After you douse yourselves in what you were bringing.”

“Pee!”

“Yes.”I said. “Or….”I sent up a thrumming roar….

And suddenly jars were coming out, and with cries of humiliation and disgust the teens were pouring them over each other.

I had no pity. And then they were running, heading out onto the street, but one had his phone out.

I sent tiny midges to land on the screen. Hopefully, he wasn’t stupid enough to actually store the number… and he wasn’t. His hands hit places on the screen, and I had my own phone out, mentally tracing what numbers he would have hit. They left my area of control not long after, but that was okay.

Then I called the number after a brief pause. A pissed-off male voice answered.

“Who the fuck is this!?”

“I’m Meridith Jenks with the Boston Life Insurance Company. I’m calling due to an open payout, and we’re trying to track down the heirs to the decedent.” I paused. “Sir, for payouts of over 10,000 dollars, I am legally not allowed to continue unless you can provide your name.”

“Wade Green,” now there was another emotion in his voice. Greed. “You need my address?”

“That would be helpful, sir.”

“763 Davis Plaza, apartment 3A.”

“That does seem to be close to our records, sir,” I said. And not at all surprising that an E88 member lived at the bastion of heritage known informally as the JeffersonDavis Plaza. “Will you be available at this phone number?”

“You bet!”

“Excellent. Please expect a call in the next week to discuss further matters regarding your… reward. Thank you.”

I looked down at my burner phone. If he checked it… But no. I bet he was thinking of what he could do with the money. Greed was a great way to keep people from asking questions.

And I had a phone number and address. I doubted Mr. Green was anyone important in the Empire, but he would talk to people. And I knew where he lived, and I had enough cameras to see and hear everything he did.

And even if he wasn’t important, he had superiors.

And soon I’d know everything about them.

But I had one more job to do.

“Mr. Lake?”

“Hey, Scary.”

I paused. “Scary?”

“I was in the back room with a shotgun. Just in case, and heard your little talk.” He chuckled. “That band ain’t gonna stop looking behind them, even after the smell comes out.”

“Indeed. I’ll leave you an email for PHO. If it looks like there are further repercussions, you can contact me on it. If I hear of anything, I will call you.”

“This ain’t the last is it?”

“I have… intentions regarding the Empire.”

“You be careful. City’s had enough martyrs. Don’t need any more.”

“All the Empire must do to avoid that fate is to change their ways.”

He laughed. “Well, you got big brass balls, I’ll give you that. Good luck, and don’t forget, it ain’t no sin to retreat if in you get in too deep.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Now it was time to get home, finish my homework, set up a few more books from those I’d checked out. After my homework, I’d practice putting the information in the electronics DIY manuals to good use…

A pity. After years of lazy afternoons, and then years of days that just stretched too long, there just didn’t seem to be enough hours in the day, anymore.