Web of the Weaver: Chapter 19

The baseball hit the target. It wasn’t  hard, since I had a bug on the ball and on the target, and I had bugs on my own body. So now I’d be working on little throwing weapons, from flash bombs to actual throwing daggers—although I didn’t expect to use those, unless it was literally life and death.

Though I did have some other ideas for disabling weapons.

It was like a wireframe, letting me know where I was, and how fast I was moving, all the time.

I liked it. Since I’d dropped off the information with the PRT I’d take a few days break, working on my equipment, making certain to stay in touch with Mush, and practicing, as much as I could.

It was impressive how fast directed work could see an improvement. I still hated life after a workout, but I was no longer just flopping into bed.

And my frog belly wasn’t… gone, but it was smaller.

The manuals I read had many methods to quickly improve physical coordination and strength, but they all demanded will.

I had that. I had lasted yearsenduring Emma and the others. I could do this.

And the one barrier to proper physical conditioning, that I had other things that needed to be doing, was now broken.

In the basement of my house, pages were turned by spiderwebs, and swarms of insects ran over the pages. I had gotten to the point where I could read an individual page in less than ten seconds—and I had ten books right now, not counting the computer, the bugs running over my special keyboard, the screen covered with other bugs.

I’d tried, but I couldn’t learn any one subject faster, or at least not much faster. But I could learn a dozen—or more—subjects at the same time.

I dropped down to the ground, avoiding an imaginary bullet, then spun around…

And lost my balance and sprawled out.

It was a good thing I wasn’t planning on fighting someone directly, because…

Well, like I said. I couldn’t learn these arts faster, especially since they required coordination.

But I was getting there. I was also learning how to get by on little sleep, but keeping Dad in the dark was still forcing me to not patrol as much as I should.

But Dad would freak. Dad might forbid me from working, and worst of all, Dad might do something to Out us, and if my intended plans advanced, I’d be getting a lotof people angry at me.

So no. Dad couldn’t know.  And on that note, I needed to make dinner. He’d be home soon.

Inside, the kitchen was gleaming, the last of the roaches and other bugs returning to their boxes. I’d solved the disease problem by a simple process—my “cleaning” bugs were raised in separate boxes and fed food wastes and water. They never came into contact with any wild bugs, and that kept them safe.

I still wiped the plates down with detergent, of course. But then I got a phone call from one of my burner phones.

I moved to the room, grabbing the phone. Dad wasn’t back yet.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Orb Weaver, um, is this a bad time?”

“No, Mush, is there an issue?”

“I’ve got something you need to see!”

I glanced at the clock. I had some time. I could eat with Dad and get out. “Where do you want me to be?”

“Can you meet me at the docks?”

It would also be dark then, I could be closer to Mush without giving my identity away.

“I can be there in two hours.”

*****

Moving to the Docks was easy. There were some drug dealers, a few prostitutes. A man was following a woman, but I had my bugs make a coughing wound. He left.

Quickly.

Evidently, I was getting a bit of a reputation.

But when I got to the docks I was confronted with something I’d never expected. Something…

I sent my bugs ahead, but it was just Mush and…

“Mush, what is this?”I rumbled, and walked out of an alley, my scarf, hat, and coat on. I was far enough away that he couldn’t get a good look at me in the dusk, and my voice was close to him.

But I owed him at least a little closeness.

Also, I had to find out what the garish pink dumptruck was doing on the street behind him.

“Yeah, like I was thinking,” he said. “You showed me some neat tricks, but I was thinking, it doesn’t help if I can’t get the stuff where I need it. I mean, not every place has bbs and metal and cera…cera…”

“Ceramic pellets.”

“Yeah, those… so… the Mushmobile!”

I stared. He was happy, like a Kid who knew Dad was going to love his meal and not notice the fire in the kitchen.

But…

“It’s…”I paused. “Good, but I have a suggestion.”

“It’s not…”

“We should paint it a more… subtle color and you can write “salvage” on it. There are plenty of salvage companies here, and that way, nobody pays any attention.”

Mush paused, than then nodded slowly. “That’s smart—we can be like a super powered Sanford and Son!”

What? What is he talking about.

“Yes. Are you interested in going out?”

“I dunno, but it’s like, what if something happens to the Dockworkers? They’ve been nice, and by the time I got over there, everything would be done. So, you know, have a truck.”

“Do you have a license?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s expired but I know how to drive.”

In the Bay, an expired license wasn’t even noticable.

“Why a garbage truck?”

“I can store my stuff in it and then just pour it out—and I can put replacements in some of the garbage bins. That’s where I found the truck. I guess it was just left, and you know, some of the guys fixed it for me…”

I could use this, but…

“This is good. But don’t think you have to get into a fight, Mush. You’re doing good right now.”

“I know, but I…” he paused. “I kinda owe you. I mean, some of the guys, they’re not… well Skids hurt a lot of people. So I kinda owe them.”

“Fine. But you’ll do it my way. No running out and fighting just to be fighting.”I started considering. “And not as Mush. I have some ideas, but If they know you come from here, they might endanger others. For now, just practice, but…” I paused, and the bugs buzzed.  “I think you’ll be very important…”

Mush practically glowed.

And I had an idea… it was time to extend my web.

*****

“Hello Ms. Cho.”

“Well, if it isn’t Ms. Spooky. You know I had a little talk with a guy who runs a store in the DMZ, apparently some punks had a bad day.”

“He told you.”

“No. They did. Some of my sources thought the story was juicy.  Juicy enough to share.”

“Be wary of speaking of it over much. The Empire might feel the need to show their strength.”

“I wasn’t born yesterday. So, what do you want?”

“A detective’s name.”

There was a pause. “That’s ominous. Why not the PRT?”

“I have provided them with a gift, but it may be sometime before they can use it. And I could do with contacts in the BBPD.”

“What kind of detective?”

“An honest one.”

There was a slow exhalation on the phone. “You also want some hen’s teeth?”

“There are none?”

“A few. I know some. But…” Cho paused on the phone. “Look, half the force are friendly with the nazis, some of ‘em actual members. Talking to the wrong person, or being the wrong person, can get you in trouble. I mean, granted, it’s not the BBPD’s fault that so many of their non-white officers have drugs mysteriously appear in their cars. The ones who don’t get the message. The ones who do their jobs.”

“Hmmm…”I paused. She had a good point. But… “And the quiet ones, the ones who don’t talk, but do listen and watch? You know a few of them.”

“Yeah, but I’m not going to tell you their name. Tell you what. I’ll ask ‘em, and if, and only if, they’re interested, I’ll set up a meet.” There was a pause. “What do you want from them?”

“Information. Where to apply pressure.”I paused and chuckled. “Who to communicate with to solve the problem of the BBPD.”

“Hey, you just took down some kids. Don’t get cocky.”

“And the Merchants, and well, there’s no need to talk about other things. You’ll hear about them soon enough. I will be waiting.”

I hung up the phone. Well, I would have to add the BBPD to my “to do” list.

But it was clear that if the good officers were so outnumbered, I’d need something… something to draw in outside forces. The Empire was large for the Bay, but they were not a national government. So I needed a detective to start helping me find out the places where I could most effectively strike the Empire, and ways to gain information that would hurt them—not from within the Bay, but beyond it.

Green had been useful, but I couldn’t use him again. He knew about the shipment, and I expected everyone who did was under scrutiny.

So I would take information and strike from another, unrelated direction.

Of course, they’d know that Orb Weaver…

Wait a minute.

Wait a minute.

Nobody knew who I was. So maybe…

I closed my eyes. Nobody was close to where I’d gotten off the bus on the way back from Mush to make my phone call. So I could…

“My dear sir, you may call me the… Investigator.”

There were enough of my bugs in it that a smart person could check the cadence, maybe realize they were being generated by the same method, but what about a totally, and completely ordinary voice changer device? I’d have to study some books about how to talk differently, but Mom had some acting books in her library… Yes…

Yes. I think that the Investigator would be useful. I’d have to mention my good friend to the detective, when and if Cho got me in touch...

Granted, he wouldn’t show up very often, but now I had a new costume to work on. Perhaps a cane, and a tailored suit….

Yes. Yes.

Why hadn’t I thought of this before? If nobody knew who I was, I could be anyone, and let the Empire chase shadows! I laughed as I walked down, and the bugs took up my laughter, the cheerful noise rising up. A block away, someone quickly slammed their window closed, but they couldn’t see me.

And it was nice to laugh.