Web of the Weaver: Chapter 7

When I arrived at Winslow on Monday, I had no idea what was waiting for me. Just that there was a battered-looking VW Bug in the principal’s space. Inside, we were called into a schoolwide assembly, and one of the…

He might have been handsome at one point, but his face was marred by deep scars, pulling his mouth into an unnerving smile, his brown hair already showing streaks of gray.

Everyone sat down and looked around.

“Right, everyone, I’m your new boss, Mike Thomas. You’ll notice that some of your teachers are gone—as are some of the students. They are having a delightful time talking to our boys in blue, and some of you may be interviewed later today about our former teachers’ side business.

“So, a couple of things. First of all, officially gang attire isn’t allowed at Winslow. As I can see, that’s been honored in the breach. No more. In fact, anyone wearing gang Attire, ABB, E88, or hell, Teeth, is going to get a free period to go home and change. If you don’t, you can come to the office, and I’ll get you set up with the clothes that I got in the bargain bins. “

Someone said something. And a group of shaven-headed seniors laughed with him.

Thomas paused and glanced over at them. “What was that, Mr. Jakes? You can speak up.”

“You think Kaiser is going to let you tell us what to wear?” Everyone else laughed.

Normally, a teacher would back off. Mr. Gladly would pretend not to hear it.

But Thomas got an unnerving smile on his face and walked down to the group. He clapped his arm around Jakes’ shoulder.

“So, Kaiser eh? Wonder what he’s like?”

“What?”

“Well, I mean, I knew All Father and Iron Rain, not socially, but we talked once or twice back in the day. I guess Kaiser’s a lot nicer than they were.”

“What?” Jakes repeated.

“Yeah. I mean, if All Father had caught someone namedropping him, well, he might take it that they thought he was theirs to command. Man, I would not want to be that person. But…”

The little group was suddenly getting very quiet.

“But, tell you what, if you got his number… You do have Kaiser’s number, don’t you? Why don’t you give him a call and tell him that you want him to come down and fight this battle, after all, I’m certain he’ll understand just how… important it is not to disappoint you. Or if he’s busy, you could call Hookwolf and tell him you want him here and aren’t taking any excuses.”

His unwilling partner was slowly turning white. And then Thomas walked back to the podium. “That applies to anyone else. I mean, if you want to tell Lung or Oni Lee to get their tails down here for a talk on dress code, my door is always open.”

Is he insane? I thought about it. Everyone talked about what the gangs could do, but I’d never actually heard of a cape appearing at a school.

And certainly not at the call of a student.

Thomas must know this, but he’d, at one move, established himself as unafraid to say things that Blackwell would never dare say.

“Now, as to other things. This school seems to have a problem with people not treating each other with respect. Now, I’m not gonna waste your time with all the official punishments, or threatening you with expulsion, because that’s boring. I will tell you that I will give you the respect you give other students, and when it comes to making people miserable, I am much older and have a far more twisted imagination than most of you do. You don’t have to love each other. You don’t even have to like each other. But you do have to learn how to along with each other because none of you are rich enough to be able to choose who you work with once you graduate.”

He didn’t say much else. But when we left for class, I noticed that the teachers weren’t in their classrooms—they were standing in the doorways, keeping watch on the hallways while students moved in. There were four security guards instead of one, and two of them were always wandering around.

I need to research this.

I was left alone in Mrs. Knott’s class, and I had already finished the project she’d given me. I googled for any information regarding Mike Thomas… He’d been around since All Father, which gave me a time to check out.

It didn’t take long to come up. Alleged member of Marquis’ gang. Rumored to have been involved in fights with the Teeth and local gangs. After Marquis had been birdcaged there wasn’t much about him, but the picture of him as a younger man, sans scars made it plain who our new principal was.

How the hell did a member of a criminal gang get to become a school administrator? Why did they send—

I almost smacked myself. I’d just seen why he’d been chosen for Winslow. I—

“Ms. Hebert? Principal Thomas would like to see you.” I looked up, and there was the secretary, her expression sour. I wonder how she was getting along with the new order.

I couldn’t bring myself to care, not very much.

Coming into the office, I wasn’t made to wait, and I looked around at the changes.

The desk was the same, most of the pictures were gone, and the whiteboard was covered in a map of the school.

“Ms. Hebert,” he said, gesturing for me to sit down.

I did. I kept my hands folded in my lap, while insects moved through the walls of the school. I had few good memories of this place.

“So, I’ve been going over your grades. Before you came here, high. Very high, enough to get into Arcadia, possibly enough to skip a grade. That was two years ago. Since then…” He looked through the papers. “Well, we both know, don’t we.”

“Yes.”

“Well, I have a solution.”

“What would that be?”

He tossed the bundle into the trash. “That. Those grades do not reflect your native abilities, especially if you’re not having to watch your back all the time. So, I’m going to dump them, and your first two years of grades will be prorated based on your progress from here on out.”

“Can you do that?”

“Ms. Hebert. Trust me, nobody is going to look overly close at this, and the dark secret of high school, especially one like Winslow, is that the diploma certifies that you were breathing in class, and not much more. Which is why, if you show progress, I think transferring to Arcadia for your Junior and Senior years, or if you can’t swing that, night class at the community college, could get you better suited to move on.”

“And it’s out of your goodwill.”

“My goodwill and the Mayor and City Council’s desperate desire that this stain on our fair city be rectified so people can go back to wondering when there will be another parahuman brawl.”

“You don’t seem to talk like most of the school officials.”

“I talk as the situation demands. You’ve been treated abominably, and you know just how messed up things can get. So I expect you deserve the truth. But there’s another reason I’m here. I had a meeting with your father, over at his place of work earlier this morning, just a short talk since I had to be here, and he said you’ve been spending a lot of time studying at the library.”

That’s what I told Dad… “Yes?”

“Self-study is good, but the truth is, it’s never as good as study with a good coach is. I’ll be setting up weekly study sessions for those who need it, with some help from the higher placing Arcadia students. It’ll also be a good way to learn about Arcadia, should you end up going there.”

I stayed quiet, but I couldn’t help but feel a bit run over. We talked a little more, but there were other students waiting. But before I left, Mr. Thomas looked at me. “Taylor. One thing. You don’t have a damned reason to have any trust in this school, so I know you’ll take this with a grain of salt. People start trying to mess with you, talk to me.”

“Thank you,” I said. “So, I was wondering. I checked some of your news stories.”

“I expect most people did.”

“You were with the Marquis. The stories I’ve heard said it was different than the other gangs.”

He went still for a moment, then shook his head. “All that stuff about not targeting women and children?”

“Yes.” That was an old, old story.

“Well, Ms. Hebert, have you ever heard about lipstick on a pig?”

“Ah… yes.”

“Crime’s like that. No matter how much lipstick you put on it, you’re still a criminal. You’d best head back to class.”

As I left, Greg Veder passing me as he entered, I was struck by a thought. I’d lied to Dad, but now one of my days really would be occupied with work… And I’d have to show up. Which would cut into my time to deal with crime. Because I had a feeling that this man wouldn’t stop with easily ignored letters and phone messages if I didn’t show up.

Sometimes I wondered if being open was such a bad thing. I strongly doubt Alexandria ever had to figure out a way to explain away strange absences.

*****

I went back to class, but I kept watch on the school for the entire day. The students were subdued, and so were the teachers. Mr. Gladly gave us a reading assignment, and Emma’s little posse kept glancing over to her empty chair.

One of the sophomores, an E88 ganger, supposedly, went home to dress “more appropriately” and I saw him smirking when he came back, wearing a t-shirt with 14-88 on it.

Less than ten minutes later, he was called to the office.

I didn’t see him until lunch when an explosion of whispers and giggles sounded through the room. I was sitting in the corner, back to the wall, but even I could see him. He was in a garish purple and yellow shirt, with a pair of shorts that showed off his skinny, pale legs. Even his friends were laughing at him, but I saw some other students surreptitiously take off jewelry and other items that might attract attention.

Nobody is going to respect your stand if they’re too busy laughing at you…

I could use that.

Still, it was easy to start out like this. Nobody knew this man. I’d reserve my opinion until he was just a normal fixture at Winslow, and then see if he could keep control.

Come to think of it, I wonder if Blackwell could shed some more light on this.

No. I couldn’t just demand they do what I told them all the time. If I was going to use people, especially people like Blackwell who were unwilling, I’d have to only use them when it was important.

But tonight I had some other ideas. I was going to visit the Merchants again, although I didn’t think they’d know about it…

After all, I had to set the stage.

*****

I didn’t bother to dress in my uniform although I kept my body suit on under my clothing.

After all, I wasn’t knife-proof.

The sun was going down, but I wouldn’t be here after dark. Not this time. No, I had to start work.

As I walked through the alleys and roads, bugs listened to my commands. If I gave a command, it was followed, even if it was fairly complex. Even if I later left the area.

Under the buildings, ants, normally hibernating during this time of year, moved up to where warmth kept them active, roaches and other bugs bringing them food—or coming to be food. Termites started working, devouring wood, opening up little passages. In other areas, mostly warm, flies and wasps started congregating.

It wasn’t as elaborate as my work close to home, because I had to worry about someone investigating it. Right now, unless you were a trained entomologist, you wouldn’t know anything unusual was happening. Right now, at least.

I didn’t go to the center of Merchant territory. That might be dangerous. More importantly, I might be forced into revealing my hand and powers. By the time I was ready to take action, I’d have more than enough foot soldiers to get things done.

And destroying the merchants—not just destroying them, but destroying their influence, would prepare me for dealing with the vastly more dangerous ABB and E88.

But as I passed a group of men harassing a woman hurrying home, I paused for a moment, then set a group of insects around them to buzzing, rising and lowering, like some great beast, breathing. The men looked around, dropping their hands into their pockets, and the woman hurried past, temporarily forgotten.

One interesting thing about insects. Many of them were very sensitive to a wide range of chemicals. Soon, I would know what buildings had the most product in them. I would know what buildings I would most likely find the money the Merchants collected.

The money and drugs that they would soon be losing.