Orb Weaver: Plague, Chapter 4

The Brockton Bay area, including outlying communities had a population of roughly 700,000. The city had a population of roughly 350,000. Kaiser had to be in town on a regular basis, and there was no sign the Empire had movers. His power was also well known and in line with those displayed by All Father and Iron Rain.

So the first assumption, I thought as I sipped some tea, was that Kaiser was a native.

The second question was about the name “Max.” Max, Maxwell, Maximus… there were many names that could be shortened to Max. And that assumed that “Max’s” origin wasn’t some kind of in-joke and the name actually had nothing to do with the individual’s legal name.

I had one point, but to triangulate, I needed another.

I also had to deal with Arcadia. The teachers weren’t happy about my plans to test out. Unfortunately, it was because they were worried about me, due to the fear that testing out might deprive me of the ability to get into a good college.

It seemed I was fated to have school issues, although this one was more… comforting.

The first step was to write a routine to go over public records, looking for any variant of “Max” in any name. I coded the program, while also putting in some filters to divide the names out by racial origin, wealth, and other factors. In some cases that information wouldn’t be available.

And while the image of Kaiser being an Asian hiding behind armor was funny, I doubted it. I also could remove anyone who came to the Bay well after, or well before his appearance. It took most of the night, but I had the programs coded and search engines running before I had to leave for school and another tutoring session.

I’d also been granted the ability to provide a grade, granted, extra credit only, but the trust was nice.

Aisha wasn’t in due to the CPS hearing on terminating her mother’s parental rights and granting her brother temporary custody. I wasn’t certain, but I had a feeling the PRT might press for full emancipation for Brian and move him onto the Protectorate. Aisha had mentioned that “Bro is practically running the Wards.”

I would take that with a grain of salt for now.

But as I went through my classes and then focused on my tutoring session—Chris was doing much better, and I’d also found an abacus for him to use. It turned out that some forms of physical feedback devices could assist with calculating numbers and he was very good with concepts, as long as he didn’t get tangled up in the base numbers. In fact, right now his fingers were flying over the abacus and… Wait, his math book was closed and he was sketching something. I—

Oh.

“Quite an interesting design,” I said.

He eeeped and closed the sketchbook. I had expected that the Wards had been told who I was, but he looked honestly surprised.

Huh. Piggot had kept her word? That was nice.

And required a certain bit of reciprocation. I pitched my voice lower. “Some might think those plans were just the product of an active imagination. But The Investigator might know better—as would others. I would suggest watching your public… artistry in the future.” His eyes widened, and I winked.

He would report this and be yelled at. I felt bad, because Chris had solved a question. How to get another line on “Max”. Teens were terrible at hiding their identity and Rune flew. And she was active with the E88, and if I had her identity, I would have another line and could start working my way up to “Max.”

Perfect. I had spent some time on Rune already. One of my weaknesses was airborne opponents. Rune didn’t tend to move far outside of E88 territory, and wasn’t allowed to fight alone. But she did do “patrols” now and then, inside E88 territory, likely to keep her from going off the reservation.

And since she didn’t appear in costume after she landed, that meant she was stashing clothes somewhere.

And in those clothes might be her civilian ID.

I thought for a moment, about the complete violation of some of the customs of parahumans I was about to engage in.

But I would not scream their identity to the sky.

I would simply use it to destroy them.

But first it was time to return to meet Dad.

****

I waited for him at the airport and Dad walked out of the terminal, looking a little younger.

“Hi,” I said. “How was LA?”

“Hot. I’m never going to complain about summer here again.” He shook his head. “Dinah’s parents wanted me to thank you—they’ll do it in person, if they ever return and Alexandria…”

“Yes?”

He looked around to make certain we were alone. “Some of the things you talked about with Dinah gave her hand. The PRT and Protectorate have their own training programs, but they were impressed. During power testing Dinah managed to predict three possible major disasters. One of them they already averted. Alexandria said that The Investigator has a favor, but don’t overdo it.”

I smiled. “No proclaiming myself Empress of the Bay?”

“That would probably overdo it.”

A very big, but limited and single-use hammer. I didn’t know what would be better, A favor for her physical power or her mind.

On the other hand, it meant that Dinah was protected from just about anything. She wasn’t just a child now, she was a child with a strategic power. I could think of any number of ways even six questions a day could help the Protectorate—five, since one of those questions would involve her own welfare.

No, if Mr. X, be he Coil or some other individual, had been unwilling to risk hitting the airport or following Dad to LA, they wouldn’t risk unleashing the full fury of the Protectorate on their heads.

Mission accomplished.

****

When we got home, we ate a nice meal, and Dad went to bed early. I spent time on some work, creating another program to use PHO, my hacked cameras, and any available webcams to build a pattern for Rune’s movements.

Then I went to bed. For all of Orb Weaver’s abilities, they didn’t come with endless energy.

I lay down and then I heard Dad talking…

Is someone else here? Is he on the phone?

I had sensors all over the house and I heard his words.

He was in the living room. My bugs could see him standing in front of…

Mom’s chair.

“You should have heard her, Annette. Alexandria singing our little girl’s praises. And she saved another family’s little girl… and… She’s done so much. Just like you, finding an impassable wall, looking at it, and knocking a hole in it. She’s… Everything—more—that we dreamed she would be when we brought her home from the hospital. Remember that day?”

I paused. I should stop listening. I should—Why was Dad crying?

“And that’s… That’s why… Annette, I promised I’d always hold on to you. But I have to let you go. I’ll always love you, but I… I missed so much. Taylor has done so much in spite of me. I missed her when she was dying by inches. I couldn’t—I love you, but… I have to accept that you’re gone, and Taylor isn’t. I—“

My bugs tracked him as he slowly fell to his knees, putting his head on the arm of the chair where Mom had balanced homework.

I finally shook my paralysis off and pulled my bugs, turned off my sensors, and lay in bed, looking at the ceiling.

Mom would never come in to say good night to me. And she’d never look at Dad in that way that had made a younger Taylor cringe. And Dad was letting her go.

For me.

I could keep a poker face, let my bugs hold every emotion to themselves.

But tonight in my room, where memories of Mom reading bedtime stories still haunted every corner, I would not do that.

Because Dad wasn’t the only one who would have to let go of Mom.