2.7
-- Lisa Wilbourne Tattletale --
"Look,"-- I licked my lips, nervous. --"maybe we can salvage some of the footage? If--"
Tanya looked up from the laptop, fixing me with a cool stare.
"I don't think it's usable," she commented mildly.
I dropped my eyes, struggling not to visibly shiver. This really wasn't getting any easier, was it?
Responses intensifying. Signs of developing phob–
Shut up, Power. That was rhetorical and you know it. Maybe other powers can pretend not to understand their users' intentions, but you've aptly demonstrated you understand me as well as anyone else.
I took a deep breath, the familiar argument with the voice in my head grounding me. I glanced back up, noting with relief that Tanya had looked away. She was in a good mood -- no prizes for guessing why -- but not good enough to let me know what had actually happened. Not that I needed to know or anything. Spinning this cluster fuck would be hard enough without worrying about the truth. Still, I really did need some details.
"How many dead?"
Her eyes went distant, presumably checking the recording I wasn't allowed to see.
"Sixty one."
I carefully didn't wince. More than I'd expected, not that the difference between thirty and sixty murders would really matter to anyone. Well, maybe it'd matter to the Chosen. Sixty one wasn't ten percent of the gang -- hell, with the complete breakdown of order in most of the city post-Leviathan, it might not be two percent -- but they'd have been some of the best, most devoted 'soldiers' they'd had. Not exactly efficient, but Hookwolf had never cared about that. Between wreaking havoc on the organizational structure and making the leadership look weak, the gang wasn't likely to recover from this. Even if a couple capes hadn't been there.
And wasn't that something? Leviathan had already fractured the Empire, but if anything, the fact that each half of the gang was independently viable just showed how powerful and entrenched they'd been. Hookwolf himself had been the city's premier boogeyman for over a decade. Perhaps Lung and Purity were capable of more destruction, but they'd shown at least a modicum of restraint while Hookwolf... hadn't. This was a big fucking deal for Brockton Bay, probably even more immediately impactful than killing Siberian.
Which was not to say the response would be positive... The gang might be done as an enterprise, but the rest of them wouldn't just vanish. Neither would their friends and families, nor the sympathizers who weren't formally affiliated. Even the people who hadn't liked them but lived in their territory and depended on them for protection from the Merchants might feel some resentment depending on how things played out. Their victims would celebrate, of course, and there were more of them than the rest of those groups put together. But celebrating the death of the Chosen wasn't the same thing as celebrating their murderer.
"Do we have to worry about anyone else having a recording?"
"Doubtful," she said, not looking up. "No living witnesses, either."
... Not getting the impression that was an accident. Now I really wanted to know, not that I could afford to indulge my curiosity for its own sake. Was understanding what had driven Tanya to mass murder worth becoming a living witness? I honestly doubted it had taken all that much, but that just made understanding exactly where the line lay even more important. Well, the men were witnesses, and she hadn't killed them. A thought to pursue later, maybe. For now...
"Do you have to take credit, then? Denounce the Chosen and let their 'mysterious' deaths speak for themselves."
She looked at me again, brow furrowed. That was fine; it was when she made a point of controlling her expression that you needed to start worrying.
"Why? Taking credit was the whole point."
I took a deep breath. She was in a good mood, right? She wasn't incapable of taking criticism per se, so long as it was in private. (Taylor was off sulking somewhere, Sierra was smart enough to realize she wanted no part of this conversation, and the men were playing poker or something downstairs.) And I understood her a hell of a lot better now. Better than anyone ever had, I'd bet every dollar I'd ever seen. And... if I didn't push back now, when would I?
It'd be one thing if I was still making good progress with passive observation, but that well was drying up. I wasn't getting much new information without pushing my power, and when I did, half the time it gave me nonsense like 'surprised that she's surprised by the taste of sushi.' If I wanted to really understand her -- that is, as well as I could understand literally anyone else with two minutes' work -- I'd need to experiment. As in, literally subject her to stimuli for which my various models predicted different responses to see which she'd give. Like a proper fucking scientist pioneering the fast-growing field of Tanya von Degurechaff.
Hell, that's probably literally true. Killing Siberian and Mannequin and Shatterbird is the kind of thing that makes all sorts of people sit up and take notice. So is interdimensional travel from weird dimensions. So are clearly atypical power expressions. Never mind the Thinkers, there are going to be actual academic papers written about her. And little do they know, her psychology is far weirder than any of that.
The digression served its purpose, dousing enough of my anxiety to let me deliver the necessary lines with the necessary tone. Time to get started.
"I told you when we planned this it was risky. Even if everything went off perfectly, you'd have won detractors. Heroes don't kill. Now--"
"Nonsense," she briskly interrupted. "The heroes killed Crawler just yesterday. They killed Echidna and several of her associates and victims just a few days before. And everyone's killed plenty of clones."
"That was all the PRT, not the Protectorate. That makes a difference. Normals killing capes is punching up, even when that doesn't really make sense. Not that the heroes wouldn't have tried to kill the Nine... Look, it's complicated, but outright massacre is way over the line. We've built up a whole set of customs surrounding this stuff over decades and you're trampling all over them."
She sighed. I could practically see her preoccupation with rule-following warring with her disgust for these particular rules. I still didn't really get how she'd ended up valuing conformity as an end in itself -- I could certainly think of instrumental reasons for the wolf to don sheep's clothing, but it genuinely wasn't instrumental. Useful, however it had happened.
"... And the clones? That wasn't all the PRT."
I hesitated.
"Clones don't count. They're power creations, not people."
She raised an eyebrow.
"If Panacea assembled a perfect copy of a person from raw materials, would they not be a person?"
"I don't know if she can actually do that. She--"
"Assume she can."
"... Not legally."
"That's not what I asked."
I inspected her face. She wasn't just going to let this go. I gave up.
"Yes, they would be. And yes, the clones are too. Most of them aren't biologically viable long term and all of them have been Mastered into a permanent omnicidal frenzy, but sure, they're people. That's not how the public sees it, though, so it's not relevant. Can we please stop talking about this?"
She looked at me for another second, expression unreadable. Probably mentally placing me into the category of people who inexplicably found being a killer upsetting. She finally nodded and relaxed into her seat.
"Fine, let's get back to the point. Killing the Chosen was always the plan. I get some nice soundbites could have punched things up, but what's really changed?"
I rubbed my temples.
"Fifty odd extra murders, maybe? The plan was to kill the capes, not..." I trailed off, filled with a sudden suspicion. "Wait, were you always planning on killing the normals? Did you think that just wasn't worth mentioning?"
I watched her face. Yes, that was exactly what had happened. Fuck, honestly that was on me. I'd slipped up and treated her like a sane person for two minutes. Miss 'I mostly kill people for wearing the wrong color clothes' wasn't going to shy away from a few dozen extra deaths.
Naturally, she was now looking at me like I was the crazy person.
"Of course. They're just as complicit in the gang's activities as the capes. I'm not about to comb the city for the rest of them, but when the opportunity presents itself?" She shrugged casually. "I didn't bring it up because I don't need advice on handling regular people with guns. And, anyway, didn't you say the taboo was just on killing capes?"
OK, I knew how to handle this. I just needed to remind her that's not how civilians think and cognitive dissonance with her ridiculous self image would do the rest. I'd watched Taylor do it by accident. Easy. Except the last time I'd tugged that thread, she'd nearly killed me at the lunch table. I thought I understood what I'd done wrong there -- I was a little too obvious, but most of it was just that I'd scared her with stories of the Simurgh and then reminded her I was a powerful Thinker -- but... 'Do that again and I will kill you. No more chances.' Hell, I'd thought she was just the normal kind of traumatized, unstable mess back then; it was a lot scarier in retrospect. It was enough to have me gripping the edge of my seat under the table, knuckles white. But if not now, when?
"No, Tanya," I groaned, all exasperated teenager. "Killing anyone is taboo. Puppies and kittens and bunny rabbits, too, if you're going to assume it's OK to kill any living thing I haven't specifically told you not to."
She processed that while I pretended I wasn't frantically scanning her face... Good. Not exactly as I'd predicted, but close enough. Still, best not give her too long to think about it.
"The Unwritten Rules only forbid killing capes, but the public doesn't care about that. Most of them don't even know about it. 'Capes killing normals' is punching down, even if they deserve it. Certainly never heroic." Well, I could imagine exceptions, but I knew better than to give her an inch.
"Well, I'm not a hero, am I?"
No, Tanya, you most certainly are not. Actually, it was pretty interesting how easily she'd slipped into the role of villain. Like it was unfair and mildly degrading but definitely not a surprise. I mean, it shouldn't be a surprise -- even her own side is terrified of her, if Richter is any guide, and rightly so -- but I thought she genuinely had no clue about that. Despite appearing to deliberately evoke and exploit that fear... Maybe it was a method she'd discovered worked without ever realizing why, or maybe it was deliberate and she thought it was normal or no big deal, or maybe she just dramatically underestimated the net effect. Or maybe she understood exactly what she was doing on some level and just pretended very hard not to...
Fuck, why is nothing ever simple with her? I'll just chalk the villain thing up to learned helplessness and move on, I guess. That's probably what it is, one way or another.
So, definitely not a hero. But the whole point of PR is... She doesn't really get what a hero is, does she? I thought back over our previous conversations. Yep, she'd rounded the whole concept off to 'cop with powers.' Which, well, was how I'd originally explained it to her. Granted, I'd been trying to get a hell of a lot across in a few sentences. That was the root of the problem, really. Well, this one problem. She picked things up fast -- that wasn't entirely a lie I'd made up to cover for her secret future knowledge -- but a few days just wasn't enough time.
This would be so much easier if she'd take a couple weeks to actually learn how things work here before violently changing them. But that just wasn't feasible. Never mind that violence was her only reliable method of emotional self-regulation, the city itself wouldn't wait. This was a critical period in the history of Brockton Bay, the moment where the course of the coming years and decades would be determined. Hell, I've barely gone two weeks without a fight since the Ruby Dreams fiasco. This was a step up in pace but honestly not that much of one. Not that we couldn't afford to slow down a little; there are benefits to being top dog. And that really would be nice because my power was not keeping up. Not when I had to manage Tanya on top of the usual shit.
Of course, her ignorance wasn't all bad. It gave me an opportunity to shape her perspective, and, in particular, how certain facts fit into her bizarre worldview. That was always the goal, here, and preconceived notions might have made things more difficult. Which wasn't to say this would be easy. She was used to having to work to make things make sense, so just feeding her the answers might arouse suspicion. Well, maybe if I just described it in the right terms while pretending not to be familiar with the academic concept...
"If you want effectual PR, you need to fit into an existing archetype. Like it or not, presenting yourself as a soldier is just going to come off as theming, not a distinct identity. Capes are heroes or they're villains. And--"
"Or rogues, right?" she interjected.
Huh. Maybe I'd spoken too soon on the villain question. Was that what she was going for? She was, uh, not doing a very good job.
"Rogues barely exist. In this whole city of three hundred thousand, there's only Parian. And she's protecting territory now, so even she's not really a proper rogue anymore. Anyway, they're almost always noncombatants. Technically mercenaries can qualify if they exclusively work with heroes, but there's no real money in that."
She grimaced and shook her head.
"No mercenary work. Not without very careful vetting, at least. Mercenaries have to be predictable, at least to their employers. Too easy to set up a trap."
Huh. I actually wasn't sure whether that was paranoia or a reasonable concern. No one was going to that much effort for Faultline, but Tanya was on a different level. Anyway...
"Isn't that what you're paying me for?"
She shrugged.
"You're not perfect. Simple OPSEC would get them eighty percent of the way there: just make sure you never speak to anyone who knows the true plan. You have limits, and with the way you show off I'm sure anyone who cares knows what they are."
I glared at her.
"What's that supposed to mean? My wiki page is a stub."
She scoffed.
"Your power is invisible. Hiding it from random civilians isn't an achievement, and they're not who we care about. No, I'm talking about how you insisted on explaining Notarin's power over my objection."
"You're the one who wanted to know what her power was."
She gave me an unimpressed look.
"And she offered to explain it. You could have just waited and told me if she was lying. There was no reason to provide further evidence on your capabilities or to draw attention to yourself like that."
"You know, Tanya, I don't think I drew most of the attention in that meeting."
"Yes. That was the idea," she impatiently explained. "We want our enemies paying attention to me. I can take it. You can't. Impressing them with your power doesn't make you look like a less vulnerable target, just a higher value one."
I hesitated, retort dying on my lips. That was a pretty good point. PRT policy is to prioritize Thinkers regardless, but that's far from a hard and fast rule, especially when the non-Thinker has much higher ratings, which... Actually, I didn't think any of her powers would warrant a seven on their own. The system kind of breaks down for someone with eight or ten moderately good powers with strong synergy, because capes like that don't exist. Well, it's not like they don't fudge things. They'd call her a Configuration-type Trump or something to put that big scary nine at the top of her sheet.
So, fine, there was a case for sandbagging so they'd go after her first. Or, rather, there might have been, if everyone didn't already understand more or less what I can do. That was more down to Leviathan than 'showing off,' but whatever. I somehow doubted Tanya would have been willing to let herself look weak if that's where the logic had pointed instead, but no sane person would treat her as a standard for reasonableness. I was pretty sure they actually didn't know the specific mechanisms my power used, though; I had made an effort to sow doubt there.
... Which might mean there's something to be said for not giving out examples of what my power can do.
"Fine, fine, I should have waited. Not that you have any room to talk. They thought your orbs were gaudy jewelry until you just told them otherwise."
That got her attention.
"... What? Are you telling me they didn't interrogate their mages?" She stood up, adjusting her rifle. "Haven't interrogated their mages?"
Shit!
"No! No, they definitely have." She paused in her sudden rush to kill/recruit the other mages before they could divulge her secrets. "They just lied about the orbs, I think. Piggot and Militia weren't surprised about the rest, though I suspect they didn't really believe the story until they met you at the truce meeting."
I could see her hesitate. There was a moment of suspicion in her eyes and my breath caught, but she kept thinking at normal speed. Well, normal for her, which was still something like thirty percent faster than us muggles. After a long moment, she sat back down and I tried not to look too relieved.
"Why? If they didn't trust the PRT enough to tell them about the orbs, why tell them about the rest? Why didn't the PRT believe them?"
I hesitated.
"I'm pretty sure they were the Master victims Gallant mentioned. They were summoned before you, possibly while the Echidna fight was still going on. Lot of different capes and clones who might have grabbed them. The PRT probably thought they were delusional when they took them in, but they'd have recorded their M/S interviews. The mages were confused and probably traumatized by the Mastering. Maybe they were grateful for the rescue, but not grateful enough to tell the PRT how to take away their powers."
She frowned but I thought it was considering rather than suspicious.
"So, the PRT assumed they were some random capes who came in for the Echidna fight and got Mastered? Their equipment should have corroborated their story."
I shrugged.
"I'm basically guessing at this point, but I think Velocity brought them in. He'd have been first on the scene and his military background might have helped him talk them around. He was pretty much constantly busy between then and his death, so maybe their equipment got stuffed in a locker somewhere and forgotten about. Except the orbs, which they convinced him held sentimental value or something."
"... Really?"
"I told you, it's just a guess."
She waved that off.
"I mean, they're incompetent enough for that story to seem reasonable to you?"
"Pretty much, yeah. Have you seen this city?" I shrugged. "To be fair, they've lost a lot of people in the last month while their workload has only grown."
"A properly structured chain of command could have ameliorated a lot of those issues." She grimaced. "But I suppose that's too much to expect from civilians. I've certainly seen military units screw it up."
We sat in silence for a moment.
"So, we're way off track," I said. "Want to go over the rest of the meeting now? Get it out of the way?"
"Sure," she assented. "Moving the interview to tomorrow freed up several hours, and we should debrief while the details are still fresh."
She considered for a moment.
"When I threatened to walk out if they didn't identify their Thinker, you undermined me. You had a valid point that I'd missed, but my mistake benefited us. You understand the issue?"
"Yeah..." I grimaced. "I figured that out right after I told you."
She nodded.
"Try to think before you speak in the future." Bitch. "I don't understand why you thought it was a good idea to just give up all the blackmail material you've gathered," she started right back in. Hey, hold up, we were taking turns! Or did she really think that was the only mistake she'd made? "Can you explain your reasoning?"
"Oh, none of it is that great. Mainly stuff about Shadow Stalker and Armsmaster -- be glad you missed them -- and they died too recently and too heroically for scandals to really make waves. Actually, the bit about Panacea was probably the stand-out, and even that's likely going to fizzle. I wanted them distracted with ass-covering rather than focused on us. Probably all that info's worth."
"Hmm." She considered. "OK, that's a better answer than I was expecting." Bitch. "Still, I think we can find a better moment. Just bringing it up might have gotten us most of the benefit, anyway, since they'll have to investigate Stalker just in case what you were going to say would have been truly damaging. The circumstances surrounding her death are a pretty minor secret and they ended up being useful. I'll want to review everything you have later. Now, about that: why did you lie to me about the decoys? It'd only function as plausible deniability if you didn't come to the meeting, so you should have told me when we decided you would come at the latest."
"I didn't lie to you." I sighed. "I told Taylor what she needed to hear and you overheard me. I didn't think the PRT would call us out on that and I didn't think you'd care one way or the other."
"Ah. Really, I should have figured that out for myself. The point of the decoys was to trick a hero into killing them, right? She'd have made sure they could have been saved specifically to cause this sort of legal trouble."
Huh, that was completely correct right up until the last part. Let's not think about the fact the person she's come closest to actually understanding during our acquaintance is Bonesaw. I nodded.
"Well, I think that's everything I have. On the whole I'd say your performance was acceptable given your inexperience. So long as you take these lessons to heart, I see no reason you couldn't be very successful in this role."
Oh my god she has to be doing this on purpose. Not even Tanya can be this condescending by accident, right? Power?
Wrong.
... Was this all part of some bizarre capitalist fantasy? Because that was the sense I was getting. Little penniless orphan Tanya watching the businessmen walk to work in their nice suits, dreaming big of an idyllic life of corporate sociopathy. And now she was using me to live out one small part of it, giving a promising if inexperienced young employee a mediocre performance review to motivate her.
...
I had to encourage this, didn't I? No, it was not a question. I actually had to. My life depended on this lunatic finding non-violent ways to express herself and this was the best lead I had.
Now, uh, how did I do that? I was a multi-millionaire, a high school dropout, and a supervillain. I hadn't spent a lot of time contemplating how to behave during a performance review. Well, I didn't think she expected me to be happy about this. Maybe just accept it and move on?
I nodded silently and she looked satisfied.
"Now, what were you saying about cape archetypes?"
Oh no you don't, Tanya. Now it's your turn!
"Actually, I had a couple more notes about the meeting." She raised her eyebrows questioningly. "Hiroo Onoda. You're not supposed to know who that is."
Hiroo had been a Japanese soldier in WWII, a commando tasked with sabotaging Allied operations in the Philippines. And that was just what he did, and kept doing, for thirty years after the war ended, unable to accept Japan's defeat. They'd had to dig up his old commanding officer to get him to finally stand down. Notarin had mentioned him and Tanya had definitely recognized the name.
Her expression went blank. Come on, you already knew I knew!
"Maybe Gallant missed it," I blurted. "They've been working him to the bone."
She relaxed a bit. Wait, did she think I was asking her about it? I'm not suicidal!
"Oh, I doubt Gallant got much from me. I'm a pretty reserved person."
...Or not. She was just being delusional, nothing new there. Was it worth trying to explain that wasn't how it worked? Maybe I could chip at the edges...
"I wouldn't count on that. His power can be pretty subtle." He was actually thoroughly mediocre as empaths went. "I've mentioned how my power works on micro-expressions? He can see tiny bursts of emotion, reactions so small even you might not notice them." I didn't wholly succeed in keeping a sarcastic lilt out of that last clause, but she didn't seem to notice. "But, like I said, he wasn't at his best."
She drummed her fingers, face still blank.
"Perhaps I've made a point to research cases similar to my own? I imagine that's how Notarin learned about him."
I shrugged.
"Perhaps. Not much we can do now regardless. Just something to watch for going forward."
She nodded.
"You did pretty well with the lie detector," I continued. "But not perfectly. You--"
She waved it off.
"Right, my discussion with General Keller. An acceptable sacrifice."
No, it was not. Well, letting them know she wasn't actually a fanatical nationalist wasn't a sacrifice at all. Probably the only good thing that 'discussion' accomplished. Explaining that was... delicate, but I thought the return was worthwhile. Attempts to poach the men were going to happen, and not all the perpetrators would be sitting safe a continent away. In terms of reducing the odds of pointless massacres, reassuring her of their loyalty was probably the best single thing I could do right now. I just couldn't let it look like I was trying to butt into that relationship. That would be... bad.
"You know, you could afford to turn down the nationalism a bit. It's really not making you any friends here and the men don't need to be reminded of their duty."
Which she presumably believed continued to include following her around and doing whatever she said, permanent exile from the war and their world notwithstanding. Hell, maybe it did. What did I know about Imperial military law? Point was, I wasn't about to convince her they were personally loyal to her -- she literally didn't understand what those words meant -- but she already believed they were dutiful. Emphasizing that was easy enough.
"I'll take it under advisement," she replied, frowning.
Probably the best I was going to get.
"Anyway, that's not what I was going to say. I meant when you told them you didn't want to be enemies."
"What, really? That's a hell of a time for a malfunction."
Sure, 'malfunction,' let's go with that. Actually, does she consciously realize she's lying? I have no clue how the lie detector actually works, or the fact it triggered on that might tell me something interesting. It could be agonizingly difficult to disentangle the things she was genuinely confused about from the things she was lying to herself about.
"Well, it happened. I think it registered as 'partial truth' rather than an outright lie. And again when you said you didn't hold a grudge for the Dauntless thing."
That one was easier to figure out. She really didn't hold a grudge for trying to kill her, but they'd come pretty damn close to getting Granz.
She sighed and rubbed her temples. Oh, am I causing you a headache, Tanya? I'm so, so sorry about that. Hopefully I can make it a little bit worse.
"And you forgot about Corporal Richter."
She sent me an annoyed glance.
"Bounty meetings are under truce. It wasn't the right time to address the kidnapping of an Imperial soldier."
Liar, you forgot about him. And let's cool it with the inflammatory language, please.
"Look, Tanya, they're going to be asking their mages a lot of questions about you. Already have been, I'll bet. What are the non-Imperial mages going to say?"
She snorted.
"A whole lot of nonsense."
"Unflattering nonsense?"
"Very much so."
"And what is Corporal Richter going to tell them?"
She considered.
"You want to leave him there? As what, a liaison? A spy?"
I shrugged.
"Whatever works. Mostly, I'm warning you we're on very thin ice with the PRT and taking him is going to piss them off. And come on, do you really want him? You were patting yourself on the back for remembering his name."
She chewed on that for a bit.
"I do in fact have a duty to see to his well being."
"So do the PRT. They'll ensure he's safe and taken care of, educated, given a career."
"Remind me what the death rate for Wards in this city has been this month?"
"Remind me what the death rate for mages on the front has been?"
She grunted an acknowledgment but didn't concede the point.
"If it's about firepower, do--"
She shook her head.
"No, nothing like that. The 188th is nothing impressive. I'd probably need a month just to get him up to the point he wouldn't slow us down. For one mage? I've got better ways to spend my time. No, the important bit is them having him -- the three of them -- rather than us not having them. I've quite appreciated not having to worry about magic detectors the last few days." She thought deeply for another couple seconds, then seemed to come to some realization. "Actually, I think you're right."
Uh, OK. Not going to question success.
"That's everything on the meeting, then?" she asked.
Not hardly. There was her complete misread on Miss Militia, her conviction that a friendly recruitment offer -- it was hard to imagine a friendlier one, really -- was a Thinker-crafted 'ambush,' leading to the part where she tortured Notarin for literally no reason, and I could go on. But there wasn't really any point in talking about any of that, at least not until she'd believe me when I told her how profoundly wrong she was about everything.
I nodded.
Er, where were we? Right, right, I was trying to connect not murdering scores of criminals to signaling theory while pretending I didn't know what that was, which... Actually, things had been going rather well, hadn't they? She'd contradicted and insulted me but hadn't thought once about killing me. Even when she thought I was lying to her. Was it really just a matter of sating her blood lust? That felt too easy. Or, well, certainly not easy, but incomplete. Anyway, best take advantage of it while it lasted.
"Alright: broadly speaking, you're either going to be seen as a hero or as a villain. That's how the public sees capes. Trying for a third option just means letting someone else make the choice for you. And it's not like you're not planning to fight villains, anyway. You just need -- sorry, needed -- to act like a hero. And I get the rules for that seem restrictive and pointless, but... OK, this is going to sound dumb, but the fact that they're restrictive and pointless is what makes following them meaningful. If there was no cost to acting heroic, it wouldn't demonstrate any commitment to pro-social behavior."
OK, she definitely got the message. Did I overdo it? If--
"Why didn't you say that before?" she frowned.
Fuck, did I miss a moment of acceleration? Moving straight from revelation to blaming me was... Well, not out of character, but I'd expected to be able to interject before she got there. Nothing to do but double down... She does realize she has communication problems, right? On some level? She has to have noticed the constant failures? Right?
"I've been trying! I've been saying the same things to you over and over again and I have no idea why you're only getting it now!" I lied.
Huh, she actually looked chastened. I was expecting some irritation at herself redirected into irritation at my incompetence -- not good, but a dramatic improvement over some of the theories she might have come up with. This was... probably good? Well, the reminder that I was still constantly getting blindsided by her responses was terrifying, but I needed all the leverage I could get.
"Ah. I apologize for misunderstanding. My English is maybe a little rusty. Perhaps I should have asked more questions."
You little shit, we both know your English is obnoxiously perfect. Somehow. Well, maybe she actually doesn't know? Whatever, I'd let her have it. She hated feeling like a failure and she hated looking like one even more, so getting an apology felt pretty nice. Even if it was for not asking more questions and not for, oh, I don't know, the mass murder? Or for ignoring my advice? How about the death threats? Being insufferably incomprehensible? All those times she visualized the precise steps involved in killing me or the others or, actually, literally everyone else she'd spent any time around for as long as I'd known her? Well, except the men.
Never mind, once put into its proper context it actually felt pretty shitty. I'd almost rather she didn't have a conscience at all if this was all it was going to do. It'd make her easier to figure out, at least. Still, leverage. I closed my eyes and sighed, letting a bit of my exhaustion show through.
"I understand we've got a limited window of opportunity here. We need to move fast, and that means you can't afford to take the time to really get your bearings. But that wouldn't be nearly so much of a problem if you'd just listen to my advice. Like you said you would when you recruited me."
Securing her obedience wouldn't be optimal -- I could admit I wasn't her equal on tactics, at least, not even close -- but it would certainly be a net improvement. Not that I had any chance of actually accomplishing that. In terms of the marginal shifts I could push for here, it seemed like the best option. Definitely better than convincing her to let me take a day off, unfortunately.
"I have listened to your advice," she responded a little petulantly. She noticed her tone and sighed. "... But perhaps I could afford it somewhat more weight. In your judgment, is the situation irrecoverable?"
There was no change in her tone. I was so busy reveling in my (pathetically minor) victory I almost missed the most dangerous question I'd ever been asked. (Hmm. There was the time Coil pressed a gun to my forehead and asked whether I understood him, and then there was the time Alexandria and Legend had shouted over each other to ask me where Leviathan had gone... Nope, this was definitely the most dangerous one.)
Oh, it'd feel pretty great to tell her she really fucked up... for a tenth of a second, which was about how long it would take her to give up on these half measures and start planning an all-out war.
I slowly shook my head, trying to look like I was carefully thinking it over.
"I don't think so. Not so long as it remains a one-off," I said with, in my opinion, an impressively artless tone.
She looked at me weirdly. Fuck you too, Tanya. You know, the way you jerk my feelings around sure reminds me of someone. Then I remembered the way Cherie had leered at me and shuddered. You know what? Never mind. Actually, she would have come after us with or without Tanya, wouldn't she? The Nine didn't travel too fast, so they'd have had to already have been on their way. And Cherie had had a thing about Alec. Or, well, they'd had a thing about each other.
But the point was that if we'd have had to deal with her either way, it was really, really nice to have Tanya 'I feel nothing when I kill' Degurechaff around to handle her. And the rest of the Nine, can't forget them... Fuck, we'd probably be dead or worse right now if not for her. 'Better than the Slaughterhouse Nine' was damning with the very faintest praise, but that might literally have been the choice we'd had. Maybe I was being a little hard on her... Which just made it that much more important to handle this properly.
"We're trying to walk a narrow line," I explained. "And this definitely doesn't help. But it's not like anyone important likes the Chosen." Hell, maybe the public wouldn't celebrate the Chosen's murderer, but the PRT genuinely might have if Koenig hadn't killed three of their own. The rank and file at least, who wouldn't consider the larger implications. "They'll know it was us, no avoiding that. But if we don't take credit they'll be able to pretend they don't know. Provided they want to."
Would they? Honestly, I had no clue. I had no illusions this decision was crossing Piggot's desk and I didn't know the first thing about the newly appointed Chief Director West. But that was not the right thing to say right now.
"And addressing this situation is a lose-lose for them. They can't not condemn this sort of slaughter, but condemning you for solving the Nazi problem they let fester is a bad look. And, frankly, they'll probably hope that if they give you some space you'll clear out a few more gangs before they have to do anything. Which we should not, to be clear, because then they would have to do something."
"They'll consult with external Thinkers, and even Appraiser and Eleventh Hour will be able to tell them they actually really don't want you in the Wards."
What they'd have to say about leaving her free, on the other hand... Well, I guess that was my job to manage. Fuck me.
"This isn't kill order level, not even close. Hookwolf probably killed three hundred people, a lot of them civilians, and he didn't get a kill order. That was over the course of his whole career, granted, but it'd be very hard to argue you're worse. They're not going to take a big PR hit and spend the resources necessary to beat you just for the privilege of sending you to the Birdcage for something they'll secretly be thrilled you did. And that's only if they win the trial. We could make that pretty difficult and very embarrassing."
Pretty well done, if I did say so myself. Hell, I was almost convinced. But it was equally important -- OK, substantially less important, but important nonetheless -- to not let her think she could keep getting away with this sort of thing.
"Still, this damages our position substantially. If we're not taking credit, we can't spell out how we're doing the PRT's job for them,"-- which, actually, had always been a terrible idea, but Tanya had been insistent on it --"and it reopens the E88 question, as you noted. Not an enormous deal: there are going to be rumors you killed them, and that sort of rumor travels faster than an outright admission."
"But that's just the PR side. You've probably earned Piggot another couple transfers, and they'll be selected to be maximally annoying to us. The PRT's internal assessments of you are going to get a lot less flattering. They're going to get less cooperative. There are going to be analysts arguing that you're too unstable and dangerous to be left to your own devices, and this is going to give them a lot of ammunition. Other villains are going to be a lot less likely to hold back against us, which--"
"Wait, wait." She'd been listening more or less patiently -- she did just say she would -- but I'd clearly lost her. "If you want me to believe all this absurdity secretly makes sense, you're going to have to do a better job explaining that one. These are actual fights we're talking about, right? You don't all have a contract with a TV network or something?"
... If you were that badly confused, maybe you really should have apologized for not asking more questions. Started with it, anyway. Well, I suspected she was just confirming her understanding, which I hardly wanted to discourage. She could really stand to do more of that.
"Well, I've heard some things about certain cities out west. But no, these are real fights."
"OK... And when you've won one of these 'real' fights, what do you do with the losers? I imagine the heroes arrest them, but I take it that Coil's little prison complex isn't normal for villains?"
"Definitely not. It's pretty rare to win conclusively like that. Normally you get a couple good hits in, maybe injure someone badly enough to take them out of the fight. They withdraw and you let them. If you put enough pressure on a group, they'll normally decide to leave for greener pastures rather than risk a decisive loss. But when it does happen, there are a few options. Steal their stuff, ruin their rep, wrap them up as a present for the heroes, things like that."
"I suppose that's reasonable enough. The normals do carry real guns, though. I've seen that for myself."
... They got a shot off?
I shrugged.
"The rules are different for normals, like I said. If normals with guns are a serious threat to your team, you don't really have any business getting into that sort of fight. We focused on hit-and-runs until we got Taylor."
She nodded.
"She can effectively incapacitate any number of normals at will, and with decent range. Well, at least relative to the short sight lines available in a city. The average street criminal probably can't reliably hit a person at four hundred meters, anyway."
"... She normally just sabotages the guns. But sure, same idea. And I see where you're going with this: no, you can't just order the normals to execute your captives. No one's going to care if you technically didn't violate the letter of the Rules. They're unwritten."
She grimaced.
"Let's leave that topic alone for now. Actually, forget about capes for a moment. When regular gang members fight they shoot each other, right? And they shoot at regular cops, who shoot back?"
"OK, maybe I don't see where you're going with this. But sure."
"Well, it's simple enough. Why? Why do you hold back?"
"... Because I don't want to die?"
"No, that's why you want them to hold back. I bet you don't want to get robbed either, but that doesn't stop you from robbing others. The defining trait of the criminal is defection from the social contract, yet you all cooperate on this shitty knockoff? If this is a real equilibrium, why haven't the normals arrived at it? And don't give me any bullshit about the heroes. If they could enforce these rules, they could enforce the actual law."
... 'Confirming her understanding?' Fucking debate club Socratic Method bullshit! I decide to go easy on you and conserve my power for five fucking minutes and you pull this shit? And with that insufferable little smirk! Well, I can certainly fix that. But what exactly to say? Not that I didn't already have ideas, but... I let up on my power. Not entirely, not nearly. I wouldn't need much for this.
Planned course of action inadvisable.
... Then it stopped. What the fuck? Seriously, you're refusing to enable my self-destructive tendencies? That's the whole basis of our relationship!
The shock gave me a chance to get a hold of myself and realize what I'd tried to do. Fuck. Well, given that I'm alive, I suppose I've never tried to do anything quite so self-destructive before. Are you... concerned for my safety, Power? That's sweet and all, but have you considered not torturing me for asking you questions? And maybe you'd like to explain why you insist on constantly reminding me about--
Tanya mumbled something. No, that wasn't right, her voice was drowned out by... something...
"Are you feeling alright?" Tanya asked again, frowning. "You've been a bit pale and distractible all day. And I've seen you shivering even though it must be twenty seven degrees in here."
I stared at her.
Concerned for your well being.
Thanks, Power. Good to see you're already back to being your old useless se-- No, wait, really? She's not just performing a mysterious human ritual because that's what real humans do? When did I start warranting actual empathy?
First observed yesterday evening, after–
Right, I remember that. I didn't pursue it then because you were repeatedly stabbing me in the brain at the time. The question I meant to ask is why?
Unconsciously identifying you with dead–
...
"Actually, you're looking very pale right now. Why don't you lie down?"
I nodded after a moment.
"You know, maybe I will. I need to check on Taylor, too."
She frowned.
"Right, that. You have things handled, I trust?"
Well, if nothing else, this meant I could push harder.
"Taylor's stubborn. I'm trying, but it'd really help if you'd kill fewer people."
Her frown deepened.
"I don't mean to disparage your friend -- she seems like a lovely young woman for a career criminal -- but maybe she's not cut out for this sort of work? I imagine she'd do well in agriculture."
I couldn't help it. I burst into laughter.
"I'll-- I'll suggest that."
She had no idea what was funny about her words, obviously. I laughed harder. She was staring at me like I was having a psychotic break. Which was hilarious because I obviously wasn't. Shut up, Power.
"Let me walk you up."
It took about twenty minutes for me to get my shit together and think things through. This was...
Well, practically, it didn't change much. It meant I couldn't leave without setting off a massive shitstorm, but I'd already come to that conclusion. It meant her expectations for me were way too high, but I wasn't going to meet them regardless. It meant she'd protect me, but she'd already promised to do that. Though instead of looking for ways to wriggle out of an inconvenient promise, she'd be looking for excuses to prove to herself she could protect me. That wasn't good, but it didn't make too much difference on the margin when she was already doing that for the men. The biggest dangers were still overreaction and escalation attracting the attention of people she couldn't beat.
No, the real implications were smaller scale. If she'd started seeing me as a protege in truth -- rather than a risky investment with an uncertain return -- I could afford to be a lot bolder. She wasn't going to kill me for a simple comment or question, whatever she'd said a couple days ago. Well, not unless it was a really dumb thing to say. And while she wouldn't kill me, she'd have no compunctions about taking her feelings out on others... OK, I could afford to be a little bolder.
And then there was the flip side. How would she react if she figured out what she was doing? I didn't know. And though she was clearly capable of misunderstanding her own feelings for years, that might be changing. She'd recently discovered that emotional pain wasn't some weird metaphorical turn of phrase, for one, and who knew where that would lead? Hell, my own plans depended on raising her emotional intelligence to age-appropriate levels, and it'd be pretty embarrassing if that's what got me killed. Normally I'd also worry about an enemy Thinker figuring it out -- that's the sort of thing I like to poke at in a fight -- but, well, if they can figure Tanya out that thoroughly from a distance, they probably weren't beatable anyway.
(How had I missed it for so long? Well, I'd figured out pretty fast that thinking about her loss directly led to thinking about murder, so I'd done my best to prevent it altogether and had other concerns when it happened despite my efforts. Who's to say how long my power knew before I asked the right questions, though.)
But really, she might just brush it off. It depended too much on the precise circumstances. Maybe I could even engineer things for a favorable result. No, the real problem was what would happen if she decided I was doing it on purpose, for which I had a much clearer, bloodier prediction.
I'd mulled that over for a while and eventually came up with the perfect solution: get her to latch onto Taylor instead. Which, well, maybe felt a little like throwing my friend under the bus to save myself, but she was genuinely better situated for this. She might actually be capable of living up to Tanya's expectations, for one. Scary thought, but that's a problem for later. And Taylor's idea of subtle social maneuvering was negotiating from a position of strength; no one was going to confuse her for a master manipulator. Well, maybe it wasn't a great idea to depend on Tanya's capability as a judge of character, but she already thought I was a master manipulator. Substantially better than I actually was, really. It didn't hurt that if Tanya trusted her more that might reduce my workload somewhat.
But the big reason was that Taylor had already latched onto Tanya for basically the same reason. Meanwhile, Tanya was considering sending Taylor off to work the farms -- which had not actually become any less funny after my rest -- and this was pretty much the only way I could think of to get Tanya to care about her at all in any reasonable amount of time. Not exactly a healthy foundation for a friendship (or whatever the fuck you'd call it), but we'd probably have months before that blew up, and they'd hopefully both be much more stable by then.
And Taylor would definitely agree if I explained it to her -- well before I finished, probably -- for whatever that's worth.
So, first off, I just had to help them past this fight. I got up and started looking for Taylor. It shouldn't be too hard; Tanya seemed at least somewhat amenable to compromise and Taylor was desperate. A couple hornets found me before I could get very far, leading me to her room. Which, well, was the first place I was going to check, but thanks anyway.
I hesitated for a moment just outside the door, something feeling off about the whole experience. One of the hornets buzzed threateningly by my ear and I jumped. What the hell, Taylor? I opened the door after a second's thought. If I was having misgivings about this conversation, I was having more about trying to avoid it.
"Hey, Taylor. What's up?"
"Tattletale," she responded flatly. Unnaturally flatly. And 'Tattletale,' not 'Lisa.' Not a good sign.
What are you mad at me for, Taylor? Well, conserving power or not, I do actually need to know. Power?
Overheard conversation with Tanya.
Oh.
Edit: Fixed a typo and some tense issues