"So, chances that Carlos is going to murder Dennis? I really don't think he expected Dennis to actually submit our proposal." Claire asked, her head pillowed in Jim's lap as they watched the show.
School was over, Wards duties were over, and they were at home. Claire and Jim had done their homework, while Mr. Blinky finished up some work on his documents of troll lore.
"Wait until tomorrow, when the new patrol routes are published," Jim said. "Carlos may have his revenge then. I just hope we keep with early morning and evening, so we can have lunch with you, Blinky."
"A pity Merlin cannot enchant my skin the way yours is, although the Master of Arms has some thoughts for when he returns." Blinky said. Then, he spoke in a more sober voice. "I impressed upon him that my convenience should not impact his current mission, to free those unfortunate souls from their torment. I was amazed. Merlin did not mock that."
"I think Grey Boy would do that to someone," Claire said. Their books at school were heavily censored regarding anything S9 related.
Ward's materials weren't so clean, mainly under the heading of "why you should run away, very, very fast."
"Yeah," Jim said.
They were watching an old show, Support Your Local Gunfighter. Anything after the rise of parahumans was… subtly different. Often time the hero, or major supporting character was a parahuman, and Jim and Claire had decided that one day a week, they'd watch something from before. Something that reminded them more of home.
Jim was in sweatpants and sweater, and Claire was in her flannel pajamas—mainly because unlike Jim, the morning cold affected her.
"I really think we should book the PRT gym," she said, watching as Latigo Smith started setting up his plan to get Jug May to impersonate the deadliest gunfighter in the West. "The back yard is…"
"Small." Jim nodded. "But, we'll have to do it when Ms. Days is nowhere to be found."
"Oh, what are you doing!" Claire put one hand on her head. "He's using a sword! How can our gentle Wards be so violent in the city with the Rage Dragon and Blender Wolf!"
Jim snorted.
"Yes." Blinky sighed. "I reminded her that training is important, and related my one failure regarding Unkar the Unfortunate." Blinky paused. "She did not respond well."
"Yeah, well I think Missy could do with some training." Claire looked up at Jim. "Probably shouldn't say this, but she's got a scar."
"Scar?"
"Yeah. Girl's shower-room remember? It looks like a knife wound and…" Claire sighed. "She mentioned to not say anything about it, because 'I fixed it myself.'"
Jim shifted and paused the TV, as Claire rolled up and sat by him. "She shouldn't even be close to someone." Jim frowned. "She's short, small, has no reach…"
"Yeah. And they don't even let her carry pepper spray." Claire sounded angry. "Jim, she's probably the biggest target on the team. Nobody can do what she can."
"I believe Ms. Days would prohibit any such training, as would PR." Blinky frowned. "But, it is sometimes easier to ask forgiveness than it is to ask permission…"
"Nobody really cares what she does when she comes over here to avoid her parents…" Claire's voice trailed off into some strong Spanish profanity.
"I don't know…" Jim said. "I mean, I'm not really…" I'm strong, fast, and the way that works for me wouldn't work for Missy.
"I think you underestimate yourself, Master Jim. Armsmaster mentioned to me that he was considering asking you to be a sparring partner, and to assist with the Wards overall training, when he returned." Blinky smiled and got up. "But I must retire. I met a delightful young lady on the boardwalk who is very interested in troll lore. She has quite the taste in hats, as well as knowing exactly what type of socks are best for morning dining." He paused. "And, as I was charged by your parents. I will remind you that tomorrow is a school morning. Good night, Master Jim, Fair Claire."
"Night, Blinky," Jim said. Training Missy… Maybe an extensible quarterstaff? Or a crossbow, like Shadow Stalker had? She said she couldn't change space fast enough for bullets, but what about that? Or confoam grenades, so she could block people and get away… Or—Jim's thoughts slithered to a halt. He'd been looking up at the ceiling.
Where the bugs were. A lot of bugs.
NEED TO TALK. ROOF OF THE DINER AT THE END OF THE STREET.
"Claire?"
"Yeah?"
"I think the Exterminator wants to talk to us."
Claire looked up. "Wow. Let's go."
Claire didn't put on her armor. She threw on a jacket and shoes over her pajamas. There was no good way to tell how long Exterminator would wait, after all. Jim just kept his sweats on. One portal later, and they found themselves on the roof of the Diner. It was late, and the streets below were nearly deserted… and there was a person standing at the far end of the roof.
Mottled gray armor seemed to drink in the light, while a pair of yellow eye slits and what looked like feelers extending up behind the helmet gave the cape an insectile feel. Several other lenses were set up over the figure's eyes, making it look like a spider's eight eyes. Some kind of enhanced vision system, Claire bet. A pair of escrima sticks were holstered on the figure's waist, while a small backpack held other equipment.
"Hello." The voice was light, either a young boy or girl. Claire figured girl.
"Hi," Jim said. "Thanks for, well, the help at all the places we've ran into, um, your bugs."
"I was in the area. Did you plan the hit on the Empire house?"
"Um…" Jim trailed off.
"We planned to get the dogs. We didn't plan for Vicky to show up, or for things to… Escalate."
"I need to thank Glory Girl. She gave me some ideas."
Claire wasn't certain if that was a good thing, given the whole 'house exploding and falling down' thing.
"I will," Jim said. "So, um… You look… good. I mean, this is the first time we've really had a chance to say hi, in person, and Um—"
"What my boyfriend means is, thanks for talking to us. Exterminator."
"I needed to give you something," she said. "Also, I'm registered as a Cape on PHO—Orb Weaver."
"Oh great, we can link up," Jim said.
"I'm not joining the Wards. Not yet. But first…" She held out one hand, a USB stick in it. "This is a list of places I've observed, but that I can't hit."
"Working alone can be dangerous," Jim said. "Are you certain…"
"Would the Wards let me do that?" Orb Weaver asked. "Ask your boss when they've had time to see it."
"Right." Claire said. "But you've been really helpful—"
"Shadow Stalker. Her civilian ID was Sophia Hess. Why did she get away with so much?" The voice stayed the same, but a cluster of moths rose up around her, wheeling and diving.
"… You were from Winslow." Claire frowned. "You knew the girl she bullied."
"Yes. I couldn't do anything about it. Why didn't the PRT?"
Claire glanced at Jim. This was definitely in the category of things they weren't supposed to talk about. But…
"They didn't know," Jim said. "I don't know everything, and they won't tell us a lot of stuff, but Sophia was never… easy to work with."
"She was a bitch," Claire said. "She put everyone else down, loved to make Vista's life miserable, and Vista is worth twenty of her."
"But she was sort of doing her job, or so people thought." Jim continued. "Do you remember that fight with Mush?"
"I heard about it."
"Yeah, that was when she went off alone, against orders. Normally, it'd be a reprimand… but because a cape was involved, it triggered a full review. They found out about the bullying."
"And she was gone, like the next day," Claire said. "Her stuff gone, her room cleared, everything. We heard that she'd been sent to juvie in LA, and that things had changed at Winslow."
"They did." There was a pause.
"Look," Jim said. "I don't know what happened after that, like I said, Director Piggot didn't exactly call us in, but she was pissed. If you want, I could ask her if she could talk to you, personally, and maybe tell you what we're not allowed to know, especially if you're helping the person she bullied."
"I'll think about it," The figure said. "You've given me a lot to think about."
"One thing," Claire said. "Sophia's no loss, but her family still lives in the Bay. I know she deserves everything coming to her, but they don't, so…"
"I understand."
"I'm…" Jim shook his head. "Tell the girl she bullied, that I'm sorry. I didn't know. I knew she was pretty nasty, but not… that nasty. Tell her I'm sorry," he repeated.
"I will." With that, there was a flood of moths, their white bodies obscuring the place where Orb Weaver had been…and then she was gone.
Claire and Jim waited, but nothing else happened. "So," Claire said. "Really moving fast, or can turn herself into a swarm?"
"Don't know," Jim said. "But you're getting goosebumps. We need to call Director Piggot."
"It's nine-thirty, what makes… of course she'll still be there. Right."
With that, the two portaled back to their nice warm house and put the movie on pause. It was time to talk to the Director.
"A complete visual and audio record of the comings and goings for twenty Empire safe houses. Pictures and serial numbers off of five cases of weapons, which we can confirm came from a national guard armory, which also gives us an in to their infiltration of government bodies." Emily paused. "The FBI was very happy to hear about that." Then she started up again. "Two ABB enforcers talking and implicating themselves in the murder of a prostitute, thirty pages of records regarding ABB protection operations…" She looked up from the isolated laptop, staring at Renick and her legal officer.
"We can't use all of that, Ma'am," the lawyer said. "But at the very least, it will provide probable cause."
"She also knows Shadow Stalker's civilian ID." Renick frowned.
"I would cheerfully throw a dozen Shadow Stalkers to the wolves if it would make this individual happy." Emily said. "Since they have the best working relationship with Orb Weaver, read Shadowdancer and Trollhunter in on the complete story behind Sophia, and let them notify Orb Weaver that they can tell it to her."
"And bringing her into the Wards?" Renick asked.
"Hell no. Play up independent or affiliate status, but no Wards."
"Ma'am… isn't the objective to get parahumans into the Wards?" the legal officer asked.
"She's almost certainly a minor from Winslow. If she gets into the Wards, we have to notify Youth Guard. If we notify Youth Guard, give up any of this happening again." Emily sighed. "If it was just MacMillan, I might risk it, but we have to deal with Days. So unless she explicitly decides she wants to join, we'll stick with pushing for affiliate status. Set up an independent bounty account for her, regarding information about parahuman crimes and we'll notify her on PHO."
"I understand," Renick said.
"Also, since there still here, call Trollhunter and Shadowdancer in. We might as well rip the band aid off with one jerk, and let them know just what a shit-show the whole Winslow thing was."
"Very well," Renick said, as he left to get Jim and Claire.
A crusader. But a very cold-blooded one. Emily frowned. Most parahumans sought the most direct route, but Orb Weaver had been patient. She hadn't busted random thugs, at least not like they thought she had been doing. She hadn't been sticking to working like a glorified pest control service. She'd been using her power to gather information—and this was going to hurt both criminal groups in the Bay very badly indeed. If they found out…
Emily pulled out a paper. Setting up an extraction and witness protection proposal when you didn't even know someone's civilian ID was difficult…
But if things went south, it'd be better than nothing, and given the very bad day both the Empire and ABB were about to have, hopefully without knowing why, they owed it to the bug cape.