Piling her notebooks into a neat stack next to where she was kneeling down, Taylor closed the closet door, having replaced the loose floorboard in the bottom of it where she'd hidden them. Flipping through the top one for a moment she looked at the entries in it, then at the printouts of various emails she'd received which were tucked into it. Sighing she stood up, before remembering something. Looking around she found the memory card on her desk where she'd dropped it the night before. She added it to the pile, then headed back downstairs.
"This is all of it, Dad," she said, putting the stack of paperwork on the coffee table next to his chair. He stared, then looked at her face.
"Good grief," he mumbled. "All of that?"
"Yep. Emails, notes I wrote when I got home every day, all of it. And this." She held up the memory card, explaining what she'd done the night before.
"Very clever, Taylor," he smiled. "That was good thinking."
"I just thought that they might erase all the evidence and then we'd have absolutely nothing, since I don't have any injuries," she shrugged. "I remembered an episode of 'CSI', then thought of the camera. At least we have proof of what happened. I even made sure to take some close up pictures of my..." She swallowed at the memory and tried again. "...My bloody handprints. On the inside of the locker. I bet my fingerprints are readable from the photos."
As she talked she felt tears come to her eyes again when it brought the previous night back to her in a rush. Jumping to his feet Danny hugged her. "Sorry, Dad. I thought I was keeping to together but every time I remember..." Taylor smiled a little at him. Reaching out he wiped the tears from one eye.
"Don't worry, Taylor. Frankly, I'm amazed that you're not hiding under your bedclothes and shaking." He half-grinned, half-grimaced. "I probably would have been under the same circumstances. You're a much stronger person than you think you are. That experience was enough to break almost anyone."
"I think the Varga did something to make me calmer than I would normally be," she admitted. "I was a wreck when I finally passed out. Since I woke up, though, I can look back on it without as much trouble as I probably should have, but even so I don't like thinking about it."
"Fixing your emotional damage was as important as fixing the physical damage, Brain," the Varga told her, unprompted. "Not all of the damage could be removed but the worst of it should be better now. It will improve with time."
She nodded, smiling slightly, then passed on the information.
"Thank him for me, will you?" Danny said, looking relieved.
She nodded, then grinned a little at the response from the Varga. "The voice in my head says you're welcome."
Releasing her he sat again, while she lay down on the sofa, staring at the ceiling. "Let me look through this, all right?"
"OK, Dad," she replied, closing her eyes while listening to him turn pages. She could hear intermittent faint growls of anger and something that sounded a lot like teeth grinding, but didn't look.
Silently, she asked her head-companion, 'Is there any way to remove this tail? It's going to make hiding what I am impossible and I'm worried that it will put Dad at risk too.'
"I'm sorry, Brain," the Varga replied after a moment, sounding genuinely remorseful. "But as I said the first time, your current form is now your normal one. I know of no way to remove it." It fell silent for a few seconds, before continuing slowly, "However..."
'However?' she prompted curiously, when it went quiet again.
"There may be a way to conceal your current form," it finally responded. "If I can remember how it works. The magic is fairly simple but not the sort I normally use. It was three Brains ago, but there was a technique we encountered..." Once again it stopped talking, giving the impression of thinking hard.
A noise from her father made her turn her head and look at him, to see him staring at one page of her notes with a pale face and his hands shaking with rage. "Dad?" she asked tentatively, worried.
"Annette's flute?" he asked in a level tone, obviously only possible due to extreme self control. She winced, flushing with anger herself.
"Yes. Sorry, Dad. I shouldn't have taken it to school." Taylor was embarrassed, furious with both herself and The Bitches Three, and worried that her father would over-react to the loss of one of the most treasured mementos of their lost mother and wife.
He looked at her for a few seconds until he sighed heavily, leaning his head back in his chair for a while. "I… am not happy about that," he eventually said. "I don't blame you, though, so don't worry."
After a little time spent staring at the ceiling he resumed reading the documents, finishing nearly half an hour later. Closing the last notebook he put it on the pile of similar ones next to him on the table, he shook his head in mystified anger. "What the hell is the school thinking, allowing all this to happen to a student they're responsible for? It's a total abdication of their duty."
Taylor, still lying on the sofa, shrugged helplessly. "I have no idea. I'm certain that at least some of the teachers know it was happening. I mean, I've seen them watch Emma and Sophia do something horrible, then just turn around and walk away. I can almost understand the students, Sophia is a terrible violent bitch that no one with a brain wants to mess with if they can avoid it, but the teachers…?"
"You reported it, though, right?"
"At first," she nodded, rubbing her forehead. "Every time I did, the bitches stepped up their retaliation, and the teachers did nothing, so in the end I gave up. It was easier and safer." Sighing, she looked at her father again, who was watching her with a gaze mixing anger and sympathy. "I hoped that one day they'd get bored and move on or something, I guess. But they never did. And anyway, who was going to listen to me? One ugly unpopular girl up against the track star, the beautiful popular rich girl, and the nearly as popular cute one?" She emitted a nasty half-laugh.
"I mean, I've seen that TV show. It never ends well for the ugly one. Either something terrible happens to them, or they snap, start killing everyone, and then something terrible happens to them." Draping one arm over her eye she tried to hold off the wave of sadness, anger, and fear that remembering the last year or more produced.
There was silence for a moment then she heard steps cross the room, and felt a gentle hand rest on her head. She moved her arm a little to see her father looking down at her. "Taylor, don't ever think you're ugly. Trust me, you're not." She raised a skeptical eyebrow making him smile. "OK, Emma is more… developed… than you are, but think about Annette for a moment. When she was your age she was a tall skinny slightly ungainly young woman, right up until she wasn't. People don't mature at the same rate. You're a pretty girl and I think in the long run you'll be a beautiful one."
"You have to say that, you're my Dad," she sniffed, feeling tears threaten to come on, this time not quite from sadness.
He grinned. "True. Did it work?"
Despite herself she grinned back, moving her arm away from her face. "Kind of. Thanks." After a few seconds, she asked a little tentatively, "Do you really think I'm pretty?"
"Of course, especially when you're happy," he assured her. "That said, remember looks aren't everything, it's more the person inside that counts in the long run. Though if you don't believe me you should look through some of your mom's old yearbooks if you want proof. You look remarkably like her at the same age, although she didn't wear glasses."
"I don't need them, now," she replied. Smiling a little, she added, "One of the good things that came of all this crap." Shaking her head a bit she sat up on the sofa, arranging her tail without thinking much about it. "What are we going to do now, though?"
Getting up he went to the phone. "First step, I'll call the police and let them know you're safe. Better to do that now. Then we can work out what the next step is." Dialing, he waited, then said, "Officer Michelson, please. It's Danny Hebert."
She listened quietly as he had a short conversation with whoever Officer Michelson was, before putting the phone down again and turning to her. "OK. They're not looking for you any more. As you heard I just told them that some bullies upset you so much you didn't come home until you calmed down. Sorry, I know it's not true, but it was the quickest way to get them to stop looking while still leaving a possible opening later."
"I don't mind, Dad," she replied quietly.
"All right, that's that done. Now, the next problem is the school. Hmm… Let's see."
Pacing back and forth in the middle of the room, Danny thought, while Taylor watched him. Once or twice he stopped, then shook his head and resumed pacing. She was familiar with this behavior, he'd always claimed it helped him think, although it had driven her mother nuts. Smiling a little to herself she waited.
"Ah. I remember," the Varga suddenly said, making her twitch a little.
'Remember what?' she asked silently, not wanting to bother her father while he thought.
"The technique I was thinking about. The Assassin's Cloak. I believe with some modifications it may prove useful."
'What does it do?' Taylor was intrigued.
"It's meant to be a form of perceptual illusion, originally intended as an assassination aid. But I think I can modify it to hide your tail." She raised an eyebrow as it spoke. "Note that this doesn't actually mean it's not there, merely that most people, hopefully everyone, would be unable to perceive it in any meaningful way. The way it works would cause it to be essentially invisible and to make anyone who noticed it indirectly, for instance if you hit a chair with it, to either ignore it completely or come up with some rationalization for the effect they noticed. It was very effective for the original users, they completed a large number of kills with the victim never knowing they were there until it was far too late."
'That's… kind of creepy,' she replied with a shiver. There was the mental equivalent of a shrug.
"Assassination was a common tool among the humans on my original world. I would be surprised to find it is any different on this one. It is, after all, a very effective solution to certain classes of problem if done correctly."
'Still, it's not a nice thing to think about.' She pondered the idea for a moment then shivered, dismissing it. 'Will this magic work on cameras? There are a lot of them around, unlike in your world as far as I can tell from what I've learned.'
The Varga was silent for a second or two. "That… is a good question. I'm not sure. I think it will work but without testing it there's no way to be certain. However, with a few more modifications to the spell..." He trailed off thoughtfully. Taylor waited, watching her father pace back and forth having some sort of internal dialogue judging by his expression, until her invisible compatriot seemed to come back to her. "I believe this modification will work against any form of mechanical vision. We will need to test it to be completely certain though. Until we can do that I would suggest staying out of areas you know have any form of machines watching them."
'That's going to limit it,' she sighed mentally. 'Everywhere has cameras these days. But let's try it.'
"I will apply the spell and we can see what happens," the Varga told her. "You will probably sense something a little unusual, don't worry about it. With time I expect you will be able to develop a certain proficiency with magic yourself, or at least my form of it, but for the moment I will handle that side of things."
Nodding, she waited, until there was an odd, not-quite-tingling sensation that seemed to begin right in the center of her head and radiate outwards, ending up running down her spine to the end of her tail. "That's… weird", she mumbled out loud, causing Danny to stop pacing and look quizzically at her.
"What's weird, Taylor?" he asked curiously. She shrugged, not sure how to explain it. Suddenly, his eyes widened, as he looked more carefully at her.
"Haaang on," he said very slowly, looking her up and down. "Something's… different."
With a smile she stood up, still watching him. He studied her for several seconds. "What's different, Dad?" She turned on the spot, ending up back facing him.
Danny's face went through a number of interesting expressions, ending up very thoughtful with a slight wince. Raising his hand he rubbed his forehead a bit, turning his head to stare at her out of the corner of his eye. "Tail," he finally said. "You have a tail, but I can't see it properly any more. What happened? It's like something is trying to make me forget about it." He blinked furiously and rubbed his eyes, then stared some more. "When I look right at you I can't see it at all but I get hints out of the corner of my eye if I look somewhere else."
Grinning, she laughed delightedly. "It works! Wow, Varga, that's incredible."
Squinting now, her father was beginning to look like he was developing a migraine. "What did it do?"
"He, Dad. And he made a sort of magic to hide my tail." Taylor was both impressed and pleased, although a little concerned about the way it seemed to be affecting her father. "Hey, Varga, why is Dad having so much trouble? Is everyone going to react like that?" She spoke out loud for the benefit of Danny.
"Your father already knows about your tail and the magic is conflicting with that pre-existing knowledge, Brain. It won't have the same effect on people who don't already know about it. His reaction does prove it works, though." Taylor passed the answer on to her father who had looked away and was now massaging his forehead with his eyes shut.
"Can he make it not hurt so much, please?" Danny requested in a pained voice.
"I'll modify the spell to exclude your father." Responding to her father's question without being asked, the Varga's voice sounded amused. "There. That should fix the problem."
"Try looking again, Dad," she suggested. "He says he's fixed it." Danny, slightly reluctantly, did so then sighed in relief.
"That was… unnerving," he slowly said. "My mind was sure there was something wrong by my eyes were saying everything was fine." Shaking his head in wonder he looked hard at her, blinked a couple of times, then nodded. "It's OK now."
Taylor smiled, pleased.
"That was real magic, then?" he asked curiously.
"That's what he said," she assured her father. She explained what the great creature had told her about the magic. When she was finished he stared at her with a weird smile.
"A genuine SEP field. I never thought I'd see one."
Taylor looked confused. "SEP field?" she queried doubtfully.
Danny sighed in a good-natured way, shaking his head. "Kids these days. They haven't read the classics."
She put her hands on her hips and gave him a look, the tip of her tail twitching irritably. "Explain, Dad. And I've read a lot of classics. Ulysses, War and Peace, Anne of Green Gables, you know that. Mom was always giving me books to read."
"Ah," he smiled. "Those are all good books. But, they're not The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, are they? I mean, War and Peace is a classic but it doesn't have a lot of laughs."
Now somewhat amused, remembering the way her parents used to argue over Danny's love of science fiction versus Annette's love of nineteenth century literature, she keep looking at him expectantly. Eventually he gave in, grinning a little.
"SEP. Somebody Else's Problem. Douglas Adams came up with it for his book. The idea was it was a type of machine that would make people ignore something obvious if you made it look unusual then turned the SEP on. Everyone would assume it was something someone else should be concerned about rather than them then ignore it as a result, no matter how peculiar that made life. The example was hiding a mountain by painting it bright pink then putting an SEP field around it."
She stared, then giggled. "That's completely ridiculous, Dad."
"But funny."
"Also not an entirely incorrect description of the assassin's cloak technique, in fact," the Varga put in, chuckling in her head, which was an odd sensation. She passed the message on which made Danny grin again.
"Anyway, whatever you call it, it could be very useful. We'll need to test it with cameras, though, or you're right, it will be of limited use in many places." Thinking for a moment, he suggested, "Do we still have that crappy little digital snapshot camera your mother bought years back?"
After considering the question, Taylor nodded a little doubtfully. "I think it was in a box of stuff in the basement, at the back. I remember seeing it about two years ago but I haven't looked at that stuff since."
"Go and see if you can find it and we can do a quick test," he advised. Wincing, he added, "I need an aspirin and another cup of coffee while you do that. My head still hurts."
With a nod she headed for the door to the basement, turning on the light and descending the stairs. It took close to half an hour but she finally emerged dusty yet triumphant, holding the latest in technology from two thousand and six, or in other words, a completely obsolete piece of junk by modern standards. Looking at it she popped open the battery compartment, shaking out four extremely dead AA cells. "Do we have any fresh batteries, Dad?" she asked as Danny came over to look at it.
"In the drawer in the kitchen, there should be a pack of them," he replied. Shortly she was installing the new batteries. Prodding the power button made the camera beep and extend its lens with a slightly protesting whirr. "Good, it still works," Danny smiled, taking it from her. "OK. Stand there, side on."
Holding it up he looked at the tiny LCD screen on the back, then over the camera at her. "That's not bad at all. I can't see your tail on the display but I can with my eyes. This might actually work." Snapping a couple of stills he looked at the results, nodding with satisfaction. "Nothing. It seems to block at least this type of technology."
"But that thing is ancient, though. Will it work with newer cameras?" Taylor asked, peering past his shoulder at the camera display. Danny held it out a little so she could see it better.
He shrugged. "I'm not sure. I have no idea how they work in the first place. But it's good enough to let us know we have a possible solution." Handing her the device he thought for a moment. "I can borrow a newer camera from one of the guys at work, he's into photography as a hobby. Not very good at it but he has several cameras, he's always picking them up from pawn shops." Rubbing his chin, he added after a second or two, "And, thinking about it, I can probably get a thermal camera as well. I know there's one in the electrical department, they use it to look for hot spots in wiring."
"That should cover most things," she agreed.
Sitting down again, she put the camera next to her having turned it off, then asked, "This changes things, doesn't it? I mean, if everyone could see my tail, there was no way to hide the fact that I'm a cape of some sort. But now, with any luck, it might be possible to keep it a secret. That should give more options."
Danny resumed his seat in his chair, looking thoughtful. Eventually he nodded. "Yes, you're right. I have to admit I was very worried about what we would do next. The obvious course of action would be going to the PRT and the Wards. But..." He trailed off, looking a little dubious.
"But?" she prompted, curious.
"But, I'm not entirely sold on that idea, I have to admit." He sighed heavily, looking at her for a few seconds without saying anything. "I was always scared you might end up a cape. It wasn't a very likely thing but in our world it's obviously not impossible. I have to say that the idea terrified me. Annette and I talked about it a couple of times, years ago, trying to decide what we'd do if that ever happened."
"Really?" she asked, surprised.
He nodded slowly. "When you're a parent, you worry about things that might affect your child, even if they're very unlikely. You can't help it. Trust me, you end up with a lot of sleepless nights making contingency plans, even if you're pretty sure that they'll never be needed. Your mother knew a couple of capes, you know, and she looked into the whole thing quite a lot, mainly out of interest." Shaking his head his expression became even more troubled.
"It's not a safe lifestyle at all. New capes, especially younger ones, have an appallingly short life expectancy. Not to mention there are about three to four times as many who end up on the other side of the law than become what everyone calls heroes. From what I remember, a lot of the time that's not from choice. Annette was pretty convinced that the PRT, or what she called the Public Relations Team, was at fault for much of that sort of thing. She didn't trust them."
"Why not?" Taylor asked, surprised. "They're the ones fighting the villains, aren't they? Without them the country would be much worse than it is."
Danny gave her a very small shrug. "That's certainly what they want you to believe and I guess it's probably true for the most part. But, when you read some of the background to the more high profile cases that have happened over the years, you can see that there's a very strong political motive in a lot of them that benefits the PRT and the Protectorate in general. Maybe I've been involved in local politics and dealing with nearly desperate people for too long and I've got cynical in my old age, but..." He sighed slightly. "Over the years I've come to the conclusion she had a point. I don't trust them completely, I have to admit. I think if it came to your well being on one hand and the PRT's reputation on the other, for an example, they'd toss you under the bus without any regret."
He sighed a little, while Taylor listened. "OK, I know it's unlikely that something like that would come up but even so I wouldn't dive into a relationship with the Wards without being very careful about reading all the documentation first. Based on the sheer marketing around the whole thing it's pretty obvious that their motives aren't simply helping keep people safe from parahuman crime. It's murkier than that."
After a moment, when he fell silent, she nodded. "I think I understand, Dad." Suddenly smiling at him, she added when he looked puzzled at her abrupt good mood, "I'm still really happy that we can talk like this after so long with both of us just… existing." Getting up and going over to him, she bent down and hugged him hard with little warning, giggling when he grunted a little, before putting his hand on her head and stroking her hair. "I'm glad you're back. I missed this Dad."
He looked a little surprised, then regretful and guilty. "I'm sorry, Taylor. I know I've been handling things wrong for a long time, but I swear to you, from now on, my first priority is you." Putting his arms around her he returned the hug.
Straightening up she released him, then sat down again in her previous spot. "OK, then, you're not sold on the wards. That's good, I don't really want to do that either," she admitted. "I was thinking about it when I woke up and I just can't see myself with them. I mean, it would be nice to have friends you could depend on, and I suppose that might happen, but if it didn't? I always thought Emma was by best friend forever and look how that turned out." She shivered as Danny watched her sympathetically. "It would be worse if it was a bunch of teenagers with superpowers. Emma and Sophia are bad enough, without that advantage."
"You'll find new friends sooner or later," he replied when she stopped speaking, an expression of sorrow on his face. "But one thing you have to realize, one thing that everyone finds out as they grow up, is that people change. Sometimes they can change enough that they turn on you. It's not your fault Emma has become this horrible person, you didn't cause it. You might never find out why it happened. Unfortunately all we can do is deal with it and move on." He looked depressed again, alarming her, but seemed to deliberately pull himself out of it.
"I hope Alan isn't aware of what his daughter is doing, but even if he isn't, he'll probably take her side at least publicly. His first priority will be to family, any father would think like that."
Taylor smirked at him, sudden good humor filling her. She'd been feeling weirdly good since she got up, partly because the presence of the Varga in her mind had somehow given a definite boost to her confidence, and partly because she suddenly seemed to have the father she remembered back again against all odds. "Will you protect me against the world, Dad?" she joked.
Inspecting her for a moment, Danny smiled back. "Of course. Although as a cape your duty will be to protect me, you realize? I'm just a poor normal person while you're the one with superpowers."
They shared a laugh, before he got up and resumed his thinking and pacing. She relaxed on the sofa again and watched him. Eventually he stopped again, turning to her. "How much do you care about those girls getting what's coming to them?" he asked slowly. Sitting up, she stared at him, then considered the question carefully. "What I mean is, I can see two possible paths at the moment, one which gets you out of the situation, the other one does that and, hopefully, sticks it to them pretty hard. But, the problem with the second one is that you'd have to go back to school."
At her alarmed and worried expression, he held up his hand. "No, not permanently, and I know you said you never would. I agree with that. But it would be needed for this to work."
Taylor regarded him doubtfully for a moment then said, "You need to explain it more, Dad."
"OK. Path one, I call the school, shout at your idiot of a principal for a while to make me feel better about it, get her to send your paperwork over, then pull you out of school. We find an alternative method of schooling for you after that. It would probably have to be home schooling at least for the rest of the year, although I'd prefer getting you into Arcadia. We might be able to use the fact that you were headed there before going to Winslow to get them to talk to us, we might not. I know a few people who might be able to help as well."
He sat beside her on the sofa and took her hand in his. "It's not that I don't think you have the discipline and intelligence to do well at home schooling, dear, please understand that. But it's important for a teenager to have friends her own age and not end up a hermit in her room." She stared at him, then smiled.
"I understand, Dad, I think."
"I'm sure you do," he grinned. "You're like your mother, much smarter than I am. Don't let it go to your head." Giving him a deliberately smug look, she flipped her other hand dismissively.
"Tell me the other plan, servant," she said in a superior tone, as she remembered her mother doing when she was in a particularly amused mood. Danny briefly gaped then laughed a little.
Miming tugging his non-existent forelock in a suitable submissive manner, he retorted, "As the lady wishes." She dissolved into giggles for several seconds.
"If you're done?" Danny looked pointedly at his watch, making her stop giggling and try to look serious. She nodded for him to continue.
Smiling a little still he went on. "The problem with that approach is that we're more or less admitting defeat. Not that that's the wrong thing to do, necessarily, but in this case I have to admit it annoys me."
"Me too," she sighed, good humor evaporating abruptly. "I don't want to see any of them ever again but I also don't like the idea that they'll think they managed to drive me away and probably just go on to bully someone else. I mean, they tried to kill me!"
"To be fair I doubt that they were actually deliberately trying to kill you, Taylor," he replied after a moment of reflection. "I doubt they really thought it through properly at all. Yes, locking you in like that could well have been fatal eventually but from their point of view it was probably just a particularly vicious prank. Not that that excuses it in any way at all."
She very reluctantly conceded that he had a point, although she still felt it was more serious than the word 'prank' described. "So what's the second plan?" she asked.
"The second approach is more complicated and relies on being able to get a few things from someone I know," he replied thoughtfully. "But, if it works, I think we might be able to wring some concessions out of the bastards and even if that part doesn't happen, we'll have enough to get the police involved properly. One way or another everyone involved would end up regretting it. The only problem is that you have to go back. Hopefully not for long." He looked over at the pile of paperwork on the table. "Based on your notes those girls did something more or less every day, right?"
Taylor nodded sadly. "They never stop. If I get there and things seem less serious for once I know it's just because they're setting me up for a big one. The locker was like that. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop all day, since nobody did any of the normal things up to that point." She shivered at the memory, prompting him to put his arm around her shoulders. "The waiting and knowing that something was going to happen was almost worse than what actually happened, most of the time. Not this time though. It was the worst thing I've ever even heard of."
They were silent with their own thoughts for a while, Danny's evident on his face and based on his expression involved a certain amount of violence. She could hear grinding teeth again.
Eventually he calmed down enough to resume his explanation.
"Basically, the thing we're missing at the moment is real evidence." She opened her mouth to object and he raised a finger, causing her to stop. Indicating the pile of paper he added, "That stuff is very useful circumstantial evidence but I think it would be considered hearsay more than anything else in court. The only direct evidence is the photos you took and all that shows really is that you were in the locker and what else was. There's no proof of who put you there. We both know who did but they could argue the point for so long they win by default. We need actual proof, ideally a confession."
Taylor looked puzzled, glancing at the paperwork, then him. "How the hell will we get them to confess?" she demanded. "They'd have to be insane." Thinking about what she'd said, she added morosely, "More insane than they are anyway."
"Ah. That's where the clever part comes in," he told her with a small grin. Explaining, he soon had her grinning as well. "Think it would work?"
"Probably." She thought some more, then nodded. "Almost definitely. They like the sound of their own voices."
"Can you handle going back for a day?" he asked, with concern evident in his voice. She thought, then slowly nodded.
"I think so. I have you and Varga on my side, after all. Between the three of us they don't stand a chance."
Danny snickered at her comment.
"I believe the plan your father has will work, Brain," the deep voice of the Varga said approvingly and with a certain amount of amusement. "If it does not, we can always find these people and deal with them later."
'We're not supposed to do things like that, Varga,' she told the demon. There was an impression of a shrug.
"I would expect that physically and mentally torturing people for amusement is also one of things that is supposedly frowned on although it doesn't seem to have prevented these people from doing exactly that," he replied offhandedly. She was forced to agree. "In any case, it is unwise to leave an enemy who has shown an ability and a willingness to kill you alive. Sooner or later they may well try again. Best to deal with the issue immediately and permanently."
She sighed mentally, provoking a deep chuckle. 'Dad would be annoyed if I just killed anyone who got in the way. They have a word for people like that.'
"Yes. Normally that word is, 'Emperor'. Or in this case, 'Empress'." The Varga sounded very amused now. She started giggling again, causing Danny to look curiously at her.
When she calmed down she summarized the conversation with the great demon, which made him smile as well. "I don't think proclaiming yourself the Empress of Brockton Bay is a wildly good idea, Taylor," he told her. "Neither is simply killing anyone you disapprove of. If I did that most of the local government would be six feet under by now. Leave that behavior to the villains like Kaiser and Lung."
"Oh, all right, Dad," she replied with mock sadness. "Seeing as it's you asking."
"So, then. Which path? Clean break with Winslow or complicated plan?"
She had already decided. "The second one. Even if it fails, we tried. And we can always do the other one in that case, right?"
Danny nodded, smiling at her. "Right." He glanced at his watch, which showed it was just before 8 AM, then headed for the phone. "It's about the right time. Let's get things rolling." Looking up the relevant number, he dialed, while his daughter turned to listen and watch. "Principal Blackwell, please. This is Danny Hebert." There was a pause. "Yes, that Hebert. Yes, Taylor is my daughter."
A few seconds went by. "Hello, Principal Blackwell. Yes, I wanted to tell you..." Danny trailed off, listening, then his face flushed red, before paling a little in obvious anger. "Principal Blackwell. Principal Blackwell! Be quiet and listen to me," he said in a controlled voice that radiated danger. "No, you will listen to what I have to say. If I have to come down there and tell you face to face I will do so, and I guarantee you won't enjoy the experience." Taylor listened wide-eyed to her father, who looked like he wanted to reach down the phone line and strangle the woman.
"I am calling to tell you that I am keeping Taylor out of your school for a week due to your total inability to control your students. She has been the victim of a serious bullying campaign that has lasted, from what she tells me, for close to two years, and last night ended up in a serious assault which could well have killed her. As a result I no longer feel that your school has her best interests at heart. She's going to be staying home until she recovers from the attack. After that, I am going to be talking to you about what you're going to do to facilitate a transfer of my daughter to a real school, or if that fails, I'm going to be talking to the police."
He listened for a while. Taylor could hear the voice of the principal squeaking through the handset and resisted the urge to listen more carefully with her new hearing which she suspected could easily make the voice clear enough to understand. She didn't really want to know what that woman had to say. "I see. And you feel justified in accusing my daughter of befouling her own locker with the… items… in question? I see. And then, when she had performed this disgusting act, she decided to lock herself inside with it?" His voice had gone calm and gentle, as if he was negotiating someone down off a ledge.
"You are exactly as she described," he said after a long pause. There was a squeak from the phone that seemed to convey insulted anger. "You can take that any way you want, Principal Blackwell. Now, stop digging yourself in deeper, and listen to me. It's January seventh today. In one week, on the fourteenth, I'll be bringing Taylor to school and I will want to talk to you, so I'd suggest you put that date in your appointment book. This is not something I'm going to negotiate on. I'm in a very unforgiving mood right now."
There was a prolonged burst of furious squeaking, during which Danny listened carefully.
"You do that. But remember one thing. I may only be a, as you so elegantly put it, 'blue collar worker with delusions of grandeur', but the DWU knows a lot of people in local government. Push me too hard and I may start calling in some favors which would cause you a lot of problems."
He listened again, a small vicious smirk on his lips, as Taylor saw a side of her father she'd never suspected existed. "No, it's not a threat, or blackmail. Just helpful advice. Don't push me. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry."
Taylor couldn't help snickering at the line, making him shoot her a dark grin for a moment.
"I'll expect you'll be ready to talk next Friday, Principal Blackwell?" he asked politely, still in that hard cold voice. Whatever he heard seemed to satisfy him. "Thank you. Good bye." Putting the phone down with gentle care he stared at it, visibly trying to relax. "God. What a bitch."
His mild comment had her giggling for nearly a minute, while he looked a little embarrassed at his own words.
Sitting down beside her he put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his side. "Taylor, I'm more sorry than I can possibly say that I didn't do something sooner," he finally told her, sounding sad. "I'm at least as much to blame as she is, or those horrible girls. I should have seen what was going on and stopped it."
Sighing, she shook her head. "It's not your fault, Dad, I was hiding it from you right from the start. I know we've had problems since Mom died but I should have told you even so. And what could you have done, anyway?" She looked up at him. "We don't have the money to sue them, I know it's really expensive for that sort of thing, and if all this has taught me anything it's that power wins. They have it, we don't."
Danny looked at her, frowning slightly, then sighed as well. "That's not a lesson you should have to learn, especially at your age, but you're not entirely wrong. Alan is rich and I have no doubt that he could make it difficult for us if we sue. Hopefully we can come up with something more effective. I don't want to let them all get away with it, but being realistic it's much more important to get you out of this whole mess than get revenge. Or justice, I suppose."
Shaking his head, he looked annoyed. "Life isn't fair, kid, and everyone eventually finds that out. You just did it earlier than I'd like."
They sat in silence for a few minutes. After a while, Taylor stirred, glancing at Danny again. "Could you really call in favors from people?" she asked curiously, amused at the way scenes from 'The Godfather' went through her mind. He twitched, apparently lost in thought, then grinned.
"Well, possibly not like you're probably thinking, but… I know a few cops who would likely be interested to look into the issue, it's barely possible I could persuade the mayor to take an interest, that sort of thing. But, on the other hand, the Union has a lot of contacts with other unions. Between the plumbers, welders, carpenters, electricians, and transportation unions, I could probably cause her a hell of a lot of problems. She might find that all of a sudden none of the maintenance the school needs could be done for all sorts of reasons." Danny looked darkly amused as Taylor laughed. "I could get her and her damn school blacklisted for months. I'll bet that would get her attention."
"You're an evil man, Dad," Taylor giggled. Her father looked proud.
"Thanks, I think." He checked his watch again, then shook his head. "The rest of the plan will take some time to put together, but several of the people I need to talk to won't be available until later. That can wait." The pair of them were silent for a minute or so, before he turned to her. "Well. Now, I suppose, we need to work out what we're going to do about the real issue."
She flicked the end of her tail where it was dangling off the sofa between them, both of them looking at it.