The Other Way
Chapter Three
"I believe you find life such a problem because you think there are the good people and the bad people," said the man. "You're wrong, of course. There are, always and only, the bad people, but some of them are on opposite sides."
Taylor sat on the bus, reading a book. She liked riding the bus as long as she wasn't going anywhere. It gave her the sensation of movement without the stress of a destination.
He waved his thin hand toward the city and walked over to the window.
She had read this book before, but some books were different the second time around. Or she was different. The first time, she had loved the part with the dragon and then skimmed through the boring philosophy at the end. This time, it was just the opposite.
"A great rolling sea of evil," he said, almost proprietorially. "Shallower in some places, of course, but deeper, oh, so much deeper in others. But people like you put together little rafts of rules and vaguely good intentions and say, this is the opposite, this will triumph in the end. Amazing!" He slapped Vimes good-naturedly on the back.
She had gone to school that morning, dead tired from the start. Her body had been full of adrenaline and caffeine by the time she had gotten home, and that had been pushing on two in the morning. Though honestly, school was better when she was barely conscious. Shorter, at least, in her head. She had slept through Mr. Gladly's class without even meaning to ... but she had woken up with glue in her hair. She couldn't begin to guess how Madison had managed that with the teacher in the room. Well, actually she could.
Screw you, Madison, she thought. Screw you too, Gladly. She had washed out what she could in the washroom after class, and had walked straight home to take a shower after that.
"Down there," he said, "are people who will follow any dragon, worship any god, ignore any iniquity. All out of a kind of humdrum, everyday badness. Not the really high, creative loathsomeness of the great sinners, but a sort of mass-produced darkness of the soul. Sin, you might say, without a trace of originality. They accept evil not because they say yes, but because they don't say no. I'm sorry if this offends you," he added, patting the captain's shoulder, "but you fellows really need us."
She liked her hair. She wasn't vain—she'd need something to be vain of first—but her hair was the only thing that kept her from looking like a thirteen-year-old boy. She hadn't ended up having to cut anything, but she was sure that had been Madison's intent. Or maybe Taylor was giving her too much credit. Emma was the only one who was truly creative in her abuse; Madison and Sophia were just really, really persistent.
"Yes, sir?" said Vimes quietly.
"Oh, yes. We're the only ones who know how to make things work. You see, the only thing the good people are good at is overthrowing the bad people. And you're good at that, I'll grant you. But the trouble is that it's the only thing you're good at. One day it's the ringing of the bells and the casting down of the evil tyrant, and the next it's everyone sitting around complaining that ever since the tyrant was overthrown no one's been taking out the trash. Because the bad people know how to plan. It's part of the specification, you might say. Every evil tyrant has a plan to rule the world. The good people don't seem to have the knack."
In a way, having powers made dealing with the bullies worse. She could kill someone if she lost control, so that meant doing nothing. Back down. Run away. Only two and a half years until graduation.
But as a cape, she didn't have to hold back. She had made her costume as a way to escape, but during the last two nights when she had worn it, she had felt like she had finally stopped hiding.
"Maybe. But you're wrong about the rest!" said Vimes. "It's just because people are afraid, and alone—" He paused. It sounded pretty hollow, even to him.
He shrugged. "They're just people," he said. "They're just doing what people do. Sir."
If she joined the Wards, she could transfer to Arcadia. From what she had heard, Arcadia was a recruiting ground for colleges instead of gangs, and everyone was gossiping about which of their classmates were secretly superheroes.
If she transferred ... would everyone make the connection to the skinny transfer student with curly hair and the skinny Wards member with bug powers? Would she have people following her around, sucking up to her, pretending to be her friend because of what she was instead of who she was? Or maybe no one would notice her beyond the passing label of being "the new kid." She'd go from being a small fish in a small pond to being a small fish in a big one. How long would it take for them to place her at the bottom of the social ladder? Then Taylor could be bullied by the children of Brockton Bay's finest, instead of by the dregs of society.
Which would be worse?
Lord Vetinari gave him a friendly smile.
"Of course, of course," he said. "You have to believe that, I appreciate. Otherwise you'd go quite mad. Otherwise you'd think you're standing on a feather-thin bridge over the vaults of Hell. Otherwise existence would be a dark agony and the only hope would be that there is no life after death. I quite understand."
Taylor heard an all too familiar snigger and glanced up from her book. Speaking of the vaults of Hell, Emma's here. Was school out already? She had gotten on the bus at around noon, and it had made its rounds more than once, so it was probably around four. After all, good kids like Emma would never skip class.
Madison was with her. Taylor guessed that Sophia was at track practice. Little mercies. She turned back to her book. They wouldn't try anything here. Well, they might. Probably would, in fact, but there were witnesses, and none of them were useless teachers.
"Every evil tyrant has a plan to rule the world. The good people don't seem to have the knack." No, she had already read that part. "They're just people," he said. "They're just doing what people do." No, she had read that too.
A dark shadow passed over her, blocking the sunlight from the window. "Oh my gosh," Emma said. "You skipped school to spend all day reading? Could you be more of a nerd?"
On the bus, there were fifty-seven ants, fourteen flies, twenty-seven beetles, and five weevils. Within the range of her power, there was much, much more. Knowing what a swarm of bugs could do to a person, to a cape, should have made it easier to hold back.
It didn't.
"We're not at school right now, Emma," Taylor said coldly without looking up. "Shut-up and go away before I do something you'll regret."
"Threats, Taylor?" she asked, her voice sweet and syrupy. Madison tittered. Taylor had never met someone who tittered that she hadn't wanted to throw out a window. "I thought we were friends." From grades one through eight. "I'm just worried that if you keep on missing school, you'll repeat a grade and never leave."
The hell do you know. I've hurt people. I've watched them beg me for mercy. I teamed up with Glory Girl. I've saved someone's life. "Go die in a fire. Third degree burns would look great on you."
She was focused more on the four hundred and forty seven flies, wasps, bees, dragonflies, crickets, and moths that had flown in through the windows—completely on their own accord—than on the book in her hands, so Emma was able to swipe it from her grip before she could react.
"You know, it's rude to read when someone's talking to you. You really should spend more time with people."
Emma waved the book around in her hand as if to accentuate her point, but Taylor didn't miss how close her hand came to the open window. If Taylor tried to take it back, Emma could "accidentally" drop it and blame her for jostling her. Even if Taylor did nothing, Emma could still drop it and it would cost her nothing more than a fake apology. It would cost Taylor her library card.
"Who would spend time with her?" Madison asked. "I wouldn't if you paid me."
Taylor tuned out the chattering idiot. She needed a plan. Plan A: do nothing and wait for Emma to get bored, return her book, and leave her alone. The main drawback of Plan A was that it didn't work, and never had. Plan B: grab Emma by her hair, slam her face into the floor thirty-nine times in a row, and get arrested for assault.
Tempting.
No, what Taylor really wanted was to beat her at her own game, to come up with the perfect thing to say to cut her to the core. Like you cut me. Emma used every secret, every invulnerability Taylor had ever shared with her to hurt her, and she could because Taylor was still nearly the same person she had been when her mother died. Emma had become a stranger.
"You know," said a voice from the other side of the aisle, "if you want someone to punch you in the face, just ask. There's no need to be coy about it." No one stood up for strangers here. This was Brockton Bay, where ignoring tremendous amounts of bull crap was an olympic sport.
But Taylor knew that voice.
She hadn't noticed her at first. Taylor hadn't been paying much attention and the girl's sunglasses had thrown her off, but she recognized the freckles, the blonde hair in a French braid.
The vulpine grin.
"Who the hell are you supposed to be?" Emma demanded. "And why don't you mind your own business?"
Lisa.
Tattletale.
I'm on the bus with a super villain.
Crap?
Lisa's eyes were concealed by her shades, but her head turned Taylor's way just an inch, and she smiled.
Crap.
"My business," Lisa said, "is that you're annoying and I have a headache." She had her feet up on the seat in front of her, taking up as much space as possible.
Emma adopted a look of false sympathy. "Aw, late night? Bad hangover?"
"You have no idea." While Emma was confident and aggressive, Lisa was confident and unconcerned. "I wouldn't have touched your dad sober, but he just kept buying me drinks, you know?"
For a moment Emma looked shocked, then she scowled. "That's disgusting. You've never even seen my dad." She was on the defensive. That was a bad move, which Taylor knew all too well. Of course, seeing this from the outside was a novel experience for her.
"Oh, I wish. I mean, seriously, that man would just not stop talking! Not that he was really that much of a man."
Emma rolled her eyes. She had been thrown off balance by the surprise of a complete stranger confronting her, but she had found her footing. "You're making a fool of yourself. Clearly, you're thinking of one of the other perverts you've been screwing around with. Honest mistake, I'm sure. After so many, they must blend together."
"What, you find it hard to believe that a divorce lawyer would violate the 'sanctity of marriage?' That's basically his job."
Emma froze. "My ... how ..." Her eyes flickered to Taylor, but Taylor didn't know how Lisa knew about Alan Barnes any more than she knew how Lisa knew that Taylor had been in the library that Monday afternoon.
Lisa took off her sunglasses and stood up. "And I meant what I said about him not being much of a man, but you know all about that, don't you? Anything could happen to you, and he would just sit back and watch, happy that it was happening to you instead of him. Of course, hardly anything ever happens to you, Emma, but it only needs to happen once. Then it stays with you. For the rest—of your—life." Lisa had moved closer to her as she spoke until their faces were just inches apart. "So tell me. Do you want me to keep talking? Or do you want to find another bus?"
Emma didn't move, not because she was defiant but because she couldn't bring herself to act. Then the bus lurched to a halt, Emma stumbled backwards, and with a distant, hollow look in her eyes, she made her way to the door. Madison, nearly as confused about what had happened as Taylor was, looked at Lisa, looked at Taylor, and followed her.
Lisa went back to her seat and put her feet up again as though nothing had happened—and held Taylor's book in her lap. Taylor took a deep breath, got up, and sat down next to her. Lisa returned the book without being asked.
"Thanks."
"Given any thought about joining the club?"
Taylor hesitated. Well, there goes that last slim hope I had of not being recognized. "A little," she lied. "I'm still weighing my options."
"Uh-huh. Is one of those options being Glory Girl's sidekick? I mean, I get that the whole villain thing might not be your cup of tea, but really?" She shuddered.
Taylor winced. What are your powers? Mind reading? Precognition? Clairvoyance? Still, it was almost a relief to be able to drop the facade. With Lisa's powers, Taylor wouldn't have been able to have kept it up long anyway. "You heard about that?"
"I follow her on Twitter. What did you think of her?"
So you don't know everything. You need to spend time on research. She thought back to the night before, to when Glory Girl terrorized her with threats of violence and imprisonment when she thought Taylor was a villain, then dragged her all over the city when she thought she was a hero. "Honestly? I'm not sure. Her powers were messing with my mind a bit, but ... she wasn't what I expected."
Lisa nodded. "Yeah, those shampoo commercials leave out a lot. Never meet your heroes, Taylor, because heroes are people and people are trash."
Thank you, Emma, for revealing my name to a super villain. "I don't know about trash," she said. "Maybe just ... thoughtless?"
"Okay, that's fair," Lisa admitted. "The thing about Glory Girl is that she has everything going for her in the worst way. The first is her mother. Some people are great at making the law work for them, and some aren't. I'm guessing that red-haired harpy who was just here was part of the first group, am I right? She screws with you, you tell a teacher, she silences the witnesses and claims you don't have any proof, then you get punished for ..." She adopted a tone of mock horror. "... Slandering the good name of an innocent girl."
It's like you've read my mind. Taylor didn't even bother telling people about Emma's "pranks" anymore because that did worse than nothing for her. "How did you know that her dad's a lawyer?"
Lisa shrugged. "It was written on her face."
"Really?"
"She has an expressive face. Anyway, capes in the first group usually become heroes because when you're on the 'right side of the law,' the law is just another weapon for you, while capes in the second group become villains so they don't need to care about breaking it. Since Brandish, Carol Dallon, can tear people apart in the courtroom—"
"Hold on," Taylor said. "You think that Emma Barnes would make a good hero? She's a manipulative sadist. I can't imagine her as any kind of hero."
"Well, can you imagine her smiling for the camera? Signing autographs? Rubbing shoulders with Brockton Bay's rich and famous?"
"Well, yeah."
"There you go."
But there's more to being a hero than that, Taylor thought.
"So super lawyer mom keeps her out of legal trouble, covers up scandals, and settles things before anyone can go to the press with any of GG's embarrassing accidents. So she gets more careless, has more accidents, and eventually hurts someone. Bad. Well, someone with a gaping chest wound isn't going to want compensation, he's going to want a coffin. So Panacea comes along, puts Humpty Dumpty back together again, and even if he tries to sue, there's no medical record of any injury. Without Amy cleaning up her messes, Glory Girl wouldn't just be in trouble. She'd have a body count."
Taylor thought back to the night before, to when Glory Girl had slammed her into a brick wall under suspicion of villainy. I can do pretty much anything I want to you and get away with it. "Well, that's chilling."
"On top of all that, she has weaponized narcissism as a superpower, so everyone loves her, especially if they don't know her that well."
"Weaponized narcissism?"
"You know, her aura? She smiles at you and you squee about how awesome she is? You didn't notice that?"
Taylor had recognized Glory Girl's aura, but it made her feel like a worm underneath her boot more than anything else. "I just ... didn't think to call it that. You're being awfully nice for a ..."
"Villain?" She smirked. Not many people could pull off a good smirk, but she could. "I'm only evil in costume."
"You can just turn it off?"
She laughed. "Of course. That's the whole point of wearing a mask." The bus slowed to a stop in front of the downtown mall and Lisa stood up. "Well, this is me. Hey, wanna come hang out? Go shopping, have fun, get useless junk you'll never need?"
"What, with you?" Taylor realized how that could have sounded like an insult. "I mean, what do you get out of this?"
Lisa shrugged. "Would you believe me if I told you that I enjoy talking to you and that you're fun to spend time with?"
Taylor considered that. "Not really, no."
"Oh." She frowned. "Well, would you believe me if I told you that this was part of my nefarious scheme for world domination?"
Taylor considered that too. "That does sound more believable."
She grinned. "Well, you'll never know what I'm planning if you stay here."
It was a bad idea. Consorting with a super villain? Taylor was pretty sure that that was illegal, as well as stupid. If anyone found out about this ... but they wouldn't. And Lisa had stood up for Taylor in a city where no one stood up for anyone. The last person who had ever done that for her besides her dad was ... Emma.
She got up and followed Lisa out of the bus. She was going to regret this, she knew she would.
Just not today.
WWW
"So she's setting you up with Gallant," Lisa said, pulling a dress off the rack. "Interesting."
Taylor wished that Lisa would keep her voice down, but Lisa seemed to think that as long as they kept their tones casual, no one would pay attention. Maybe she had a point. People were good at not paying attention.
"I haven't called him yet. I mean, it would be cool to meet him in person, but I know if I do this ride-along, he'll expect me to sign up for the team, and I don't know if I even want that."
"Uh-huh." She held the dress up in front of Taylor, frowned, and put it back. "Here's some general advice. Just because a guy takes you out to dinner, it doesn't mean that you have to take him to bed."
"That doesn't seem very general."
"You know what I mean."
"I do?" That was reassuring.
She nodded. "You have a comfort zone. That would be great if you liked your comfort zone, but you don't."
"I don't?"
"Do you?"
Taylor sighed. "No."
"Exactly. It's the fifth circle of hell. So get out of it. Get a new hobby, meet new people, go to a party and wake up the next morning next to two mimes and a plastic surgeon."
"What?"
"Every mistake becomes a funny story if you wait long enough."
"So you're saying that I should call him, but I shouldn't join his team." Talking to Lisa helped her empathize with yo-yos.
Lisa handed her a pair of jeans and a top. "I think you should join a team. I'd prefer mine because you're awesome and we'd love to have you. Heck, if you wanted to, we could just hire you as a mercenary on the rare occasion we're doing something legal, like holding against other gangs. Basically, we'd be paying you to let us help you clean up the streets. You could not ask for a better deal than that."
Taylor hesitated. "I don't know."
Lisa rolled her eyes and pushed her into a changing stall. "Well, any team would do. Solo capes make small waves, and you've already made some big ones."
Taylor looked down at the bundle of clothes in her hands, horror slowly dawning on her. "Hold on, were picking out clothes for me or for you?"
"For you. I thought I mentioned that."
"You didn't."
"Whoops."
"And I didn't bring any money with me."
"Gee, if only there were a villain nearby with literally millions of dollars in offshore bank accounts."
"What?"
"Crime pays. Try them on. I want to see how they look on you."
Taylor closed the curtain and began to disrobe. "So what's wrong with going solo? Not every cape is on a team."
"No, but all the ones who matter are. Look at Shadow Stalker. She started solo, then joined the Wardes about a year ago. By herself she beat up non-powered criminals who were too weak to do anything about it, and their cape bosses never bothered with her because she wasn't much of an annoyance. Since she joined the Wards, she started going after capes whenever she wants, even when she's alone, because if her enemies decide to take her out permanently? Well, her team's going to make sure that they have a bad time."
Taylor struggled into the outfit. "And as long as I don't have a team, bad guys are more likely to try to kill me."
"Mutually assured destruction. The dead man's switch. The basis of all peaceful human interaction. You have to make sure that killing you causes more problems than leaving you alive, and for that you need a team."
"So you think I should join the Wards." There were three hero teams in Brockton Bay, and Taylor was too young for the Protectorate and the New Wave didn't wear masks. Still, taking advice on become a hero from a villain felt surreal. She finished fastening the last button and looked at herself in the mirror. "Also, are you planning on taking me to a strip club later?"
"Only if you want me to. Why?"
"Because this seems like the sort of outfit one would wear to a strip club." While working there. It was clingy and revealing, which would have been fantastic if Taylor had something to reveal or cling to.
"Really? Let me see." Lisa stuck her head in through the curtain, but frowned in disappointment. "Okay, you've have lead a totally sheltered life."
"What?"
"We're definitely getting that, though."
"What?"
"Though there are quite a few strip clubs about capes in the docks. Don't go to 53 4 Me, by the way. Capes Uncaped is pretty good. All the girls are dressed up as famous capes, you know, for a few minutes. Except Narwhal. She stays in costume the whole time. I don't know if Alexandria is a dominatrix in real life, but she should be."
Taylor wasn't sure if Lisa was trying to seduce her to the dark side, or if she was trying to skip the dark side entirely. "Could we not talk about this?"
Lisa tossed a dress over the curtain. It landed on her head. "You're the one who brought it up. So, Gallant. What do you know about him?"
Taylor looked at the blue dress Lisa had given her, making sure she could be seen in public in it without getting arrested. "Well, he's dating Glory Girl. He joined the Wards about three years ago. He's a tinker. Um ..." What had Armsmaster told her about tinker specialties?
"Master, actually," Lisa said.
"What?"
"The PRT really doesn't like masters, so whenever a master tries to be a hero, they fudge the details a bit so no one connects the good guys with people like Nilbog and Heartbreaker. Glory Girl's narcissism field should give her a master rating, but she's a hero, so they classify her as a shaker. Gallant can throw energy blasts that make you feel whatever he wants you to, so he's basically a watered down Heartbreaker, but because he stand for truth, justice, and tacky, plastic action figures, he walks around in a second hand power suit and blames his powers on the wonders of technology."
Taylor shivered as she pulled the dress over her head. "Okay, I'm definitely not calling him."
Lisa scoffed. "Seriously? You're going to buy into the 'all masters are evil' crap? You're a master."
Taylor opened the curtain. "But you said he could mess with my head."
"Ooh, nice."
Taylor blinked. "What?"
"That's a good color on you. Let's see if I can get it a size smaller. Sure, he can mess with your head, but so what? Aegis can crush your head. Kid Win can shoot your head. Clockblocker can freeze you in time and touch your butt without you ever knowing. It's not a question of what they can do, but what they will do, and the answer is always what they can get away with. Gallant can't use his master power on you without hitting you with an energy blast, so he won't. The only thing you need to worry about is his thinker powers, and if you can handle me you can handle him."
"Thinker powers?"
"He can see emotions."
"Oh." The PHO message boards had let her down. Hard. "I feel like you're sending me a lot of mixed signals. You tell me that I should join them, then you give me all these reasons why I shouldn't."
Lisa put her hands on Taylor's shoulders and looked her in the eyes. "The truth is a mixed signal. There is no right or wrong answer, and I can't tell you what you should do. I think you should know what you're getting into. I think that you are exactly the sort of person who should make a good hero, but also the sort of person who doesn't. I think they care more about looking good than being good, and more about ruling the world than saving it. That's going to be hard for you to adjust to. But they'll keep you alive, and that's what matters most."
WWW
Lisa expected to feel better than she did. People were always so much worse than they pretended to be, so finding the exception to the rule should have been, well, something.
Right?
But her powers didn't let her analyze herself as easily as she analyzed everyone around her. The Manton Effect in play perhaps, or maybe Lisa was too close to the problem.
Medice, cura te ipsum.
Taylor, on the other hand, was an open book to her, and as they went through the different shops throughout the mall, Lisa leafed through page after page of the girl's personal tragedy.
Taylor hadn't picked out a name before she went out in costume in a town where all the other capes practiced their autographs before their debut. As a rule, heroes wanted fame while villains went after fortune, but Taylor wanted neither. So what was it? Escapism? Well, there was a world of difference between escaping to and escaping from.
She was timid in the extreme when spoken to, but reckless in the face of danger. It wasn't the standard vanity that drove her to heroism, Lisa realized, or even courage or altruism. It was desperation.
Taylor's life didn't matter to herself, so she wanted to make it matter to other people.
The story was almost enough to make her cry.
Instead, Lisa smiled like she always did. She put her arm around Taylor's shoulders as they exited the mall as though they had been friends their whole lives, and Taylor was lonely enough to play along.
"Can I ask you a question?"
Lisa knew what that question was, but she went through the motions anyway. "Sure. Ask me anything."
"We've been talking about me becoming a hero this whole time, but why did you choose to become a villain?"
Choice had nothing to do with it. "Because I don't owe the world a thing, and I'm not going to fool myself into thinking that I do."
"Oh." Taylor couldn't argue with that, because it was at least partially true. The whole being-abducted-at-gunpoint part was just dressing. "If I do join the Wards, that will make us enemies."
Lisa laughed. "Oh sweetie, you are so naive it hurts. We'd be on opposing teams, sure, but cape politics has more rules than the Geneva Convention. Both sides are always holding back because the alternative is a tad ... nuclear. The Wards program is even more restrictive than the Protectorate, because if they get too many kids killed, they start looking less like junior super heroes and more like child soldiers. And hey, if I do get caught, I can, A, break out of jail, B, bribe the jury to find me innocent, or C, as a last resort, switch teams and join the Wards."
"You can do that?"
No. "Sure. Happens all the time." It was a little lie, but the world had enough hard truths already.
"You'd think they'd vet that sort of thing."
"Just the opposite. If you wreck the other team on a regular basis and then try to join up with them? They don't even look at your résumé, because they know you're good at what you do."
They walked quietly down the street for a minute. "I could see you being a hero," Taylor said.
D'aww. Further proof that Taylor had no freakin' idea what she was talking about. "Well, my home's that way. I'd invite you over, but, you know, secret lair and all, and you live that way." That would raise a lot of awkward questions with her team, such as, "Why are you hanging out with a junior hero?" and, "If you knew she was a white hat, why'd you let us meet her with our masks off?" Worst case scenario, Lisa might have to make something up about grooming a sleeper agent.
Who knew? Maybe if she played her cards right, that would turn out to be the case.
"How did you know where I ..." Taylor glared at her, but her heart wasn't in it. "You really enjoy that, don't you?"
"Enjoy what?"
"Being you."
No. She smiled. "Heck yeah I do. Hey, let me know how your date with your knight in shining armor goes. I'll keep in touch."
WWW
Taylor had gotten so used to sneaking home that she did it even when she didn't need to. Before she opened the front door, before she even reached her neighborhood, she had her bugs scout around inside. Dad was sitting in the living room watching television, but he fidgeted, glancing at the clock every few minutes.
"Taylor!" he called from the other room after she came inside. "Where have you been? You weren't here when I got home, and I was getting worried."
I was hanging out with a super villain. But Taylor couldn't tell him that, or that said super villain had turned out to be the nicest person she had met that week. "Library," she said, making a beeline for the stairs before Dad could come around the corner and notice the shopping bags. "Let me just drop some things off in my room, and I'll be right down."
She didn't have to keep so many secrets from him, but it was safer this way. She'd bury her big secrets under countless little ones, and after she got into the groove of cape work well enough to be able to tell Dad that everything she was doing was perfectly safe, then she'd come clean about her double life. Until then, she'd keep Dad in a state of blissful ignorance as long as she could.
She emptied the contents of the bags out onto her bed and began stuffing the clothes into the deepest corners of her closet. Would she ever wear them? Probably not. They were too bright and flashy for her tastes, but Lisa had wanted to get them for her. And who knew? Maybe one day when she was feeling temporarily insane and everyone else in the city had gone blind, she might try them on.
The last thing in the bag fell out with a tink as the hard plastic hit a button. A burner phone that Lisa must have slipped into her bag when she wasn't looking.
I'll keep in touch.
She turned it on and looked up the contacts. There was one, under the name L.
Taylor took a deep breath and held it. She needed to get rid of the phone, and probably destroy it just to be safe. Going shopping with Lisa had been a bad idea, but it had been a spur of the moment thing. This? This was an invitation to a premeditated, continuous relationship with a super villain. She liked Lisa, sure, but could she honestly tell herself that she trusted her?
No. If she didn't get rid of the phone, Taylor knew she would regret it. And she would get rid of it.
Just not today.
WWW
A/n And here's chapter three. Thanks everyone for the reviews. Hopefully I can keep this interesting.
The book Taylor was reading at the beginning, if you're interested, is Guards! Guards! by Terry Pratchett. It was published a few years after Earths Aleph and Bet diverged, so either it was written in both worlds like the Star Wars prequels, or it was sent over from Aleph. There are a few parallels between the two books that I really liked, like how Taylor and Vimes are both cynical heroes who turn out to be less cynical than real life, or how both Tattletale and Vetinari are both evil masterminds that turn out to be exactly what the city needs to keep things running, but I included it mostly because it was a fun book I liked.