"I really hate this," Jim said. They were in the Wards Quarters, save for Claire and Missy, and there was nothing to do. They'd done a little patrol, with enough PRT people around them to make it plain that they were being escorted, and those patrols had been Boardwalk only.
Then Jim had gone to a press conference, where he had a list of things to say. They boiled down to:
I am very confident in the leadership of the Protectorate.
I am thrilled to be working alongside Legend. (Legend was a really nice guy, but 'working alongside' meant showing up at the press conference and talking to him for about 10 minutes before and after).
No, I am not worried about my safety.
No comment.
Jim had a lot of "no comments," with "You should ask X" sprinkled among them.
I never used to need to worry about PR back in Arcadia. On the other hand, man eating gumm-gumms had been easy.
Neo-Nazis that had the support of a pretty big minority was hard. They'd already had launched four raids in cooperation with the BBPD that had found nothing, the sites already evacuated ahead of time.
"Wonder what their capes are doing," Chris asked.
"Hiding," Jim said. And that meant that the BBPD was demanding that they give them the lead because non-cape crimes weren't under the PRT's jurisdiction. Oddly enough that lead also demanded extensive prior notification of where they were going to be acting, because "local crimes are not the PRT's responsibility."
"But we're hurting them…" Jim said. "Aren't we?"
"Sort of, maybe, I dunno," Chris replied. "I mean, they took down two of Hookwolf's dog fighting rings…" Both teens winced. Half the dogs had been either damaged or so savage they'd had to be put down, and when that had come out, Hellhound had come out of hiding to attack the convoy taking the dogs back, evidently intending on liberating them.
Legend hadn't been around (A tinker based radioactive goo-monster in Alaska had demanded his lasers), but Armsmaster and Velocity had saved the day, nearly capturing the Master. Evidently there had been some conflict among the Undersiders, given that before they managed to escape, Grue and Tattletale had been seen screaming at Hellhound.
But we're hurting them. This has to be hurting them. Jim and Claire, as open capes, hadn't returned to Arcadia. Jim thought that was overkill, but nobody asked him. Ann was back and they'd asked Glory Girl to keep watch on her.
That's another different thing about this place. Back home, we never had to worry about someone letting us handle things…
Claire watched as Missy glared at Merlin. After the Siberian incident, Miss Militia had had a…
What had Armsmaster called it? Right, A frank exchange of views. At least that was what the written minutes would read, Claire knew.
But, Claire didn't know if that's what she should call the argument that ended with Miss Militia asking if Merlin would enjoy her demonstrating a Davy Crockett atomic projectile on him.
What was worse was that Merlin had come back an hour later, and mentioned that after researching what it was, yes, he would enjoy such a demonstration.
Director Piggot and Armsmaster had played peacekeepers after that particular discussion, and Merlin had grudgingly promised "No more illusions that might get the Endbringer Sirens triggered."
But but even so, Missy had decided to keep up her self-appointed role as Claire's bodyguard from the evil Wizard. (Or Crazy Trump 9).
"No, no, no, say it again!" Merlin said. "With that kind of pronunciation, you might try to brew tea and turn yourself into a cabbage!"
Claire took a deep breath and once again tortured her vocal chords with Draconic. The E88's attack on Jim had delayed Armsmaster and so Merlin had decided on some intensive training while he was here.
"Why—" Claire coughed. "Why do I need to say this? You don't and Morganna didn't."
"And when you are a centuries old wizard, you won't either. For that matter, before long, you'll be able to get away with saying the words in your mind, but for that you must know how they sound."
"Right," Claire said, sipping the tea. Merlin had brewed it, telling her it would help prevent damage to her vocal chords.
"We should be out there, helping the Protectorate," Missy muttered.
"Why waste your time?" Merlin asked.
"Waste—do you know what the E88 has done?"
"Oh, assault the innocent, rule with fear, claim to have a high calling to lure the fools and disaffected to their banner…" Merlin snorted. "Common enough and one day they will be gone and another will replace them."
"I just don't understand—we have Legend!" Missy glared out the window. "And they aren't even fighting, the cowards…"
"What do you think they are?" Merlin handed Claire a sheet of paper, glowing symbols on it. "Try to read this, silently, and see if you can call up what it represents." Claire nodded and started to focus on it, keeping a bit of her mind on what Missy and Merlin were saying, so she could stop any attempts at murder.
"A bunch of thugs. They strut around and then the first thing they do when we get the firepower to stop them is hide." Missy practically spat the words.
"Correct," Merlin said. "They are thugs, so what does it gain them to fight? An army would stand and fight, but the E88 isn't an army. They're thugs, and they know that the longer things go on, the more likely it is that another crisis will intervene. So their… capes hide, and their rank and file go about their business, secure in the knowledge that the authorities won't take dramatic action."
"What would you do, then?" Missy asked. "If you know so much?"
One thing I guess you can say about Merlin—he doesn't demand you be nice to him when he's rude to you. He just could care less. Claire shook her head and got back to reading. The draconic and enochian letters seemed to swirl as she tried to say them in her mind.
"Well, you could always execute every individual with an E88 tattoo on their body," Merlin said. "I daresay that would make joining less attractive."
"But that would be—that would be murder!" Missy said.
"True. Or you could attempt to solve the underlying issues that lead so many of the poor to blame someone else for their ills…" Merlin bent down to look at Missy. "But I doubt you would be interested in a solution that doesn't involve…Punching."
Missy opened her mouth.
"Uh, Merlin?" Claire said. Merlin and Missy turned to look at her. Claire smiled at them nervously, as the glowing violet vines wrapped her body, a flower… with teeth looking down on her.
"Oh for—if you can't keep your attention on your work while you're eavesdropping on a conversation, how do you think you'll do if someone has just shattered all the bones in your hand? You flipped the proper nouns!"
Claire wanted to protest, she really did. But that might get Merlin into a rant, and she wanted him to do something about the flower.
It was… drooling on her.
"The rank and file are getting edgy, Max," Victor said.
"Let them." Max said.
"We're hemorrhaging money."
"And we have reserves," Max turned to face his subordinate. "And it hurts the others nearly as much as it does us—Lung knows that the PRT won't ignore him, and so he has to stay in as well, and his thugs won't move a finger without him prodding them." He smiled. "Besides, I've arranged for a few incidents among our fellows in the BBPD."
"What?" Victor asked. "If we're going to see riots…"
"Oh, nothing so dramatic. A few cases of excessive violence, things like that. The PRT wants a dramatic victory—and we'll deny it to them."
"And what about Rune?" Victor asked. "They won't stop until they get her."
"Yes. How is she?"
"Othala finished up with her this morning. She left the bruises, and she's still not really liking moving, but… She looks better than she was. Brad really worked her over." Victor frowned. "You might want to remind him that Othala can't do anything with an unconscious body—or a corpse."
"Tammi used Brad's name as part of planning an attack on a Ward in his 'civilian' capacity. If Jim Lake had died… The fact that Brad didn't know about it wouldn't save him." Max shrugged. "She deserves some punishment. In a few days, after the population starts to get angry, Tammi is going to turn herself in. She will state that she did so to save the city from any more suffering at the hands of the police and protectorate, and I will announce that she has been expelled from the E88."
"She's pretty powerful, Max, can we lose her like that?"
Max turned to face Victor. "Tammi couldn't keep her mouth shut in juvenile hall, surrounded by the lesser races. She won't keep her mouth shut now, and whether they try to turn her into a Ward, or just toss her in prison, she'll come back to us. When she does, we welcome her with open arms as the prodigal daughter returned." Max turned back to the window. "And in the meantime, we take what the Protectorate thought would be our demise and turn it into a victory."