Terrific Trio
2.1
"Found something."
"Yes!" said Peter. "What is it?"
"A lab," I said, focusing on the impulses from my bugs. I didn't have a lot, too many bugs would be too conspicuous. The place was too clean and too cold, making it harder for people to believe that bugs would find their way here, especially if people already knew about me and my powers.
I now had to be measured in my response, pulling in bugs so small that they would be missed and coloured to blend in. Not being able to sense the colouration of my bug had been a problem, but I made what I thought were good bets. I pulled in bugs that trended to towards white—I didn't naturally know the colour of my bugs but I knew the general shape of them, which meant I'd pulled in one very small bug, got a feel of it and then worked with bugs that felt the same as my sample. These bugs I'd spaced out, giving me an image of the facility, while I pulled in fleas and had them settle on the people wearing clothes.
"There are ten people with guns," I said. "I'm not very good with them so…rifles? Machine guns?"
"They're packing," said Peter.
I nodded. "There are twenty-eight people that are working," I continued. "All of them naked save underwear and these plastic parkas. I think they might be making coke or something, I've had a few bugs on it and its powdery."
They were in a warehouse two storeys tall, with the second floor made up of a mezzanine; an office at the back of the mezzanine, with metal walkways spreading out from the office, fixed to the wall and looking over the first floor. There were fourteen tables on the ground, all ordered so the two-man teams wouldn't get in each other's way. No speaking, only the rustling of the parkas as people worked.
"Gao," said Peter. "You said before that her thing was selling drugs."
"Yeah," I said, distracted. I was searching through more of the facility. I had bugs on the mezzanine, which was slightly less clean that the ground floor. Bugs would have an easier time moving there, feeling out the people within.
Three men, two carrying smaller, heavier guns, dangling at their sides. One didn't have any weapons. He was sat in a chair, looking at a set of screens I couldn't see with my bugs. I clustered bugs under their desks and through them I could hear as the man conversed.
"Chinese," I said.
"Actually," said Peter. "Chinese is not a language, but a group of them. Most people in China speak standard Mandarin."
"Don't suppose that means you can understand it, can you?" I said. Peter shook his head. "Well, that wasn't useful at all."
Peter shrugged. "Was trying to get to you," he admitted. "I'm gonna call the cops while you take care of the guns."
I gave him a nod and focused on moving bugs. Stealth was key here, but I also had to move fast. We'd spent the last half of the week trailing him, trying and failing to get a sense of his operations. But the only thing we knew was that he had a few police in his pocket. If that was true for him, then it could be true for these guys too, and that would mean they'd hear about the police before they even got close. I had to work on two avenues: Make sure that if they chose to fight, they wouldn't have their weapons; and, if they were going to run, things were harder for them.
Flying bugs carrying lines of silk were already en route to the building, while bugs I was sure wouldn't be seen were moving to weapon, finding whatever spaces they could and filling them up. The bugs I was using were small, but they were a lot and I was sure if I used enough of them, the guns would jam.
"Yes," I heard Peter saying. "Can you give me a moment to write it down?" He mouthed a word. I unlocked my phone and gave it to him. "Yeah. Uh-huh. Seven-three-four. Mhmm. Thank you very much. I don't want to sound pushy, but, this might be a rush in sort of thing. Yeah…Bye."
Peter gave me the thumbs up, handing me my phone.
"Get close," I said. "Wait for the police and help them if it's needed. I'll have the Swarm there to feed you information."
"See you soon," Peter said, his voice filled to the brim with excitement. He jumped off, shooting out a web and sharply changing direction. I had bugs on him, hidden in the pockets of his hoodie, and I tracked him through them as he disappeared between buildings. I moved bugs into a humanoid shape while I kept working.
I'd clogged down a set of guns, but I couldn't be sure if they'd work or not. I really needed to learn more about guns, how to take them down, where their weak points were, but that was for future reading. Right now, it was better to overestimate the bugs needed than underestimate.
Bugs started jumping into their supply, the same strategy I'd used when I'd been dealing with the dealer. Hopefully people would lose faith in this drug if they saw bugs in it. I couldn't help wondering if it would work, though, these were addicts and maybe the occasional bug didn't matter to them so long as they got their high. It was a depressing thought, stirring up my own distaste of drugs.
"Any change?" Peter said, landing on the roof next to my cluster of bugs. The windows were boarded up and cameras hidden at the building's perimeter didn't look our way. Peter was relatively safe, standing a building over from our target.
'Shhh,' I wrote. 'They might have a thinker.'
Peter nodded, bending low. I started describing what was going on through written form. They were mostly talking, which we still didn't understand, they were still working and one person had pulled out their phone, making a call.
"Suspicious, maybe," Peter whispered and I wasn't sure it would help against a thinker. These guys, from what I could tell, didn't seem to have a thinker on their roster, but then I didn't know much. They were conversing in their native tongue and I was missing a lot. I didn't like it at all.
'Maybe,' I wrote.
The guns were clogged to the best of my ability and now I had bugs sifting through the guards, trying to see if they had any secondary weapons. All of them did: the pistols I'd already clogged, but the knives were another matter. I couldn't just have spider traipse out in the open, not if it would have these people moving before things were settled.
But that could have been a moot point.
'Cars incoming,' I wrote. The streets around these parts were low in traffic, which meant I'd been able to lay out spiderwebs across the streets, using them to get a feel for disturbances and then having gnats fly onto the offending targets to keep track of them. Cars were different from people, their vibrations felt by the webs even before they tore through them.
'Counting five distinct vibrations,' I wrote. 'But I'm not really good at this so I could be missing something.'
"Maybe police cars," Peter whispered and then he shook his head. "No sirens. Just wishful thinking. You're thinking thinker power or mole?"
"Don't know," I said, it was faster to speak and Peter was talking now, which meant if they did have a thinker, he knew about us. But that didn't mean they knew about what we were planning. It was a shot in the dark, but still, speaking out our way forward wasn't the best idea.
'We'll wait to see how things play out,' I wrote. 'If they start moving their merchandise, we'll have to act. I'll start drawing bugs close, but they won't be in the building. Can't take the chance they're buying from the Vulture too.'
Peter nodded, giving me the thumbs up. We waited, Peter looking towards the building while I tried to keep track of everything. The man on the mezzanine pressed a button and said something, that rang through the lower floor. Everyone stopped, their movements changing as they started packing up.
'Packing up,' I wrote.
"Should I move in?" said Peter.
'Yes,' I wrote. 'I'll keep track of you, but I'll be dealing with the people in cars. Be careful.'
Peter gave me a nod and jumped off.
I started collecting bugs, directing them in the path of the cars. There were seven vehicles in total, two of which were moving trucks. I quickly got bugs in them and counted the people inside: The moving trucks had three people in the front, seven others in the back, while the cars had five people including the drivers. All of them had the same heavy guns the people on the mezzanine had.
I tracked the bugs on Peter, he was already on the building, in a space where the external cameras wouldn't be able to see him. The men on the mezzanine had moved, going a floor lower and talking to the guards. They all moved as a group, going to an exit that would take them towards Peter.
"I think they know you're here," I said through gathered bugs. He didn't jump.
"They shouldn't have been able to see me," he muttered. "Not when you lead me through the blind spots."
Had I? I didn't remember making a conscious decision to do so, even if it was the smart play. I felt the discomfort starting to rise up, but I pushed it back. If I got lost in the past, Peter might get hurt and I didn't want that to happen.
Focus on this, on what I was trying to do.
"Thinker maybe," I said. "Be on the alert. They've reached the doors."
They had, but my bugs had already finished binding the doors closed with silk. They pulled, stretching the silk before stopping. I heard them speak faster, more passion in the words.
The first cloud of my bugs hit the cars, clouding over all of them and starting to find crevices to get into it. Words were said, higher pitched and impassioned. The first bugs started to crawl over them and they stayed composed, as a group moving faster while they shared words in Mandarin. That composure was quickly lost as bugs started crawling into nose and ears and eyes; cars jerked and stopped as the drivers devoted their attention to the growing mass of bugs.
Overall it was good, but I counted three people who were calm in the chaos, three people that should have been covered in bugs and yet weren't. I focused on them, trying to push bugs their way, but they slipped, moving over something that wasn't there. Either three Inhumans who had the same ability or there was a trump and they'd been given the ability to counter my bugs.
The three were in different cars. At different paces, they got out of the passenger's seats, two moving to the trucks while one chose a car and they started to move. I tried to bind them with lines of silk, but it didn't take. As soon as they moved, the lines of silk slipped, no friction to keep them in place. I layered bugs over windscreens, but it didn't seem to impede them one bit. A thinker power above and beyond their shields?
I focused on Peter. He'd kicked through a small window at the top of the warehouse. He was inside, crawling on the walls being followed by a cluster of flying bugs as he moved. I tracked the people on the floor, they'd moved, checking other exits and found that all were closed. They were still speaking, still impassioned, which was a stark contrast to the workers who were still packing up, eerily silent.
Their shared words stopped as they moved, guns coming out and pointing up in Peter's direction.
"In—" I started, but Peter had already moved, jumping back as the guns stuttered, firing in a series of cracks where he'd been and following him as he swung through the air. My heart almost stopped, my mouth going dry. That wasn't supposed to happen, I'd clogged the guns, they should have jammed.
Focus, Taylor. This isn't the time to panic.
I pushed away the panic, keeping track of everything. Peter was fine, he'd moved out of the way and he was moving haphazardly enough that they couldn't hit him; and my plan had worked, it just hadn't kicked in immediately. More of the weapons were jamming, their stuttering coming to a stop.
Peter descended, moving at an angle and firing a line. He caught one man's gun and pulled, sending the block of metal slapping in another. He clipped the web, fired to keep his swing and fired a quick salvo of webs at the men. One of them shouted and they scattered. Peter missed as they hid under desks or found other cover.
He landed on a wall, scanning the ground.
"This is creepy," I heard Peter say when my cluster of bugs caught up to him. "The people."
I focused on them, feeling their forms against my mind. They were still working, not having panicked even when there'd been gun fire. It seemed like they were ignoring even some of the men hiding under their tables.
"Master power?" I said.
"I don't know," Peter returned. "But it's scary to think about." He took a breath. "All of them are blind and it looks ugly. Like it was a rush job."
"Focus, Spider-Man," I said. "Push it back until this is all over. We have a job to do and we have capes incoming."
Peter nodded and jumped, shooting webs out and swinging lower. Two of them men stepped out from their hiding places, hands on knives and they threw. Peter contorted, moving past the projectiles and landing on the ground with a skid. He fired off two webs, both catching at table. He pulled, jumping in the same moment. Bereft of cover, the two men scrambled, but Peter caught one with a web to the foot before being forced to dodge by a set of knives coming at him from behind.
I heard sirens in the distance, slowly getting louder.
If I could hear them, the people with the cars would hear them too and they'd be scrambling, wanting to leave. More bugs had arrived, some of them carrying some of the excess lines of webs Peter had made for me, with my attention their way, they started binding the men, catching those who'd tried to scramble while my attention was elsewhere. Some tried to fight, but it was very hard to fight a mass of bugs.
The men in the trucks were a quarter of a block from the building, which meant we had at best seconds before they arrived. I focused on Peter, feeling out the ground. He'd taken down four men, but the scenery had changed: The workers were now aimlessly milling while the men hid in the crowd, throwing knives at Peter when they thought there was an opening.
I didn't have many bugs in the direction and I sent them into the air, forming arrows that pointed down towards Peter's targets. My brother quickly worked, shooting two lines and catching two men. He jumped, flailing his webs and having them form loops which wound around the men. I heard laughing from Peter as he moved the webs to one hand, fired with the free hand and swung, both men in tow. He landed on the mezzanine walkway, sticking the two men in place.
"Yes. Yes. Yes," I heard him say. A knife flew in his direction, moving fast. He dodged without trouble, jumping onto the ceiling, then running before he jumped and started swinging around.
"Careful," I said. "One of them might be Inhuman. That knife managed to sink into the wall."
"Okay," said Peter, still with an edge of excitement in his voice. "You have no idea how long I've been practising that."
"It looked really good," I told him. "Three men incoming with trucks. I can't get my bugs on them." As I spoke something happened, the bugs on the man who hadn't had weapons slipped away, a similar effect as the men who were driving cars. "The guy that threw the knife is a definite Inhuman. I can't get bugs on him, like the guys driving the trucks. The effect might extend to your webs too."
Peter scurried across a wall, getting closer to the ground, watching the group on the floor. They moved as a group, still three guards with guns in their midst, barking out orders. As a group, the workers started running towards the exit, not stopping but crashing into it, trying force their way through. It didn't work.
"Assume master effect," I said. "Master protocol."
Peter nodded and jumped, getting low enough that he was able to fire a web. He didn't catch a guard, instead taking a worker and pulling them from the thrum, in the process hitting the surrounding people. An order was barked and the people stilled so they wouldn't step on the fallen guard. Peter let go of his quarry, sending them sliding on the floor. He swung around, going in for another grab.
A knife flew and Peter contorted, dodging then firing in the crowd below. This time he managed to hit a guard and he hauled them up, his throw was harder than it had been for the worker. The man hit the ground hard, sliding and then hit a wall. He didn't get up, but the bugs I had on him noted he was still breathing.
There were still two of the guards, one of which was the Inhuman. Maybe the master was in the crowd, but then that would mean he was a worker, and I couldn't see a cape doing that.
Wrong universe. Different dynamic.
Even so, even realising this, it was hard to conceptualise. Masters were all about minions, and why would they do something their minions would? Except if they actually enjoyed it.
This wasn't helping.
Peter swung again, catching a worker and immediately released her. The others had acted en mass at a barked order, grabbing the worker from being pulled and trying to pull Peter down.
"Trucks are incoming," I had bugs say when Peter swung in their direction. They'd arrived, but they'd carted some of my bugs for me. I had them fly away from the trio, only keeping enough that I could see what they were doing: One of them pulled out a knife, starting to sever the webs I'd bound the doors with.
"Caught the last guard," said Peter. He was on the ceiling, close to that cluster of bugs. "Just the Inhuman and he's in the crowd. He's even stopped ordering the others. I can see him, but he's protected and I think they'll pull me again if I try to catch him."
"The three Inhumans are here," I said. "He must know and he's biding his time."
"What about the others?" he asked.
"Police will intercept," I said. "They're moving in that direction. Someone must have called."
"You didn't?"
"No."
Peter snorted. "You're slipping, sister. Here I thought you thought of everything."
"Yeah. Yeah," I said. "There's not much I can do that wouldn't impede you too. Can't get on them, can't trip them up, I don't think, and blinding them is useless."
"That's because they've gouged out their eyes like the others," said Peter. "Maybe they're controlled too?"
"I don't know at this point," I said. "Test the waters, if you find you can't do anything, then pull back. I've got bugs incoming and I'll be able to figure something out, working on my own. If I fail and they start moving people away, they'll have lost a lot of their production when the police get here."
Peter nodded. I clustered bugs together, seeing with my bugs. The three men walked in with confidence, no sign that they were blind. But then, it was likely that they were being controlled. Where that master was, though, I couldn't tell. There were people in the area, but most of them had moved away when the gun fire had started. I couldn't find anything suspicious. I started moving my stronger bugs, searching the facility for the web lines Peter was leaving behind.
My brother swung, landing on a wall and firing a quick salvo. The men were fast, all of them deftly moving out of the way before they could be hit. Peter jumped again, firing a web up and swinging around so he could get in the men's blind spots. I heard a muttered 'stupid' reaching my bugs before he let himself fall, firing a salvo of webs while angling himself away from hitting the men.
All three of them moved out of the way as Peter landed in their midst. One stepped forward, flicking his wrist and letting out a knife. He struck and Peter fell back, legs extending in a kick. The man leapt over the kick, dodging it while another move forward to strike. Peter got into a handstand to dodge, pushed himself off into a spin while firing off webs that caught the two men in the face.
One of the men was unaffected, the web sliding off him, while another stumbled back because of the force, his hands instinctively moving to pull away the web. Peter landed, dodged a swipe from a knife, spun low and caught the man's feet before kicking him in the chest. The man was thrown through the air, sent spinning then slamming into the ground.
The man didn't stay down, he got up, stretched a little before he turned toward Peter and the two others. I noticed that the man who'd been caught by a web no longer had it on his face. Grab bag capes were a bitch to deal with, more so when a cluster was working together. But…those were the old rules, this seemed odd by the new rules. I didn't know much about Inhuman triggering, but it seemed odd that it would match so strongly which how Scion and the other had made their powers manifestation.
Three people with the same power, to a lesser degree there was the remaining guard, who had an ability that was similar to these men. That was odd, though, wasn't it? Did Inhuman triggering cause clusters to form?
I hadn't paid enough attention, but then getting information wasn't as easy as it had been back on Earth Bet.
Peter lunged and his quarry fell back, dodging. My brother shot out a web, catching the man as he fell, shooting another which connecting to walkway above. The web shot at the man connected and Peter twisted around, clipping the web and sending the man flying towards the wall. He quickly followed up with a salvo of webs that stuck the man against a wall.
"I wouldn't do that sliding this," Peter said, swinging and gathering momentum. "You loose yourself and you'll fall, probably break a leg."
The man didn't listen, he slid free, fell, hit the ground and broke his leg. Peter muttered an oath, he'd been mid-swing, turned away and had missed the man starting to slide.
"Police will be there soon," I said, through my bugs. They'd arrived in the scene of the stopped cars and bound men. I stared pulling bugs into a form, which summarily got those bugs shot. A waste of bullets. "I'm a hero," I said through the bugs. "I've been called the Swarm. These people were headed for a drug operation. The people there are trying to escape, but Spider-Man's keeping them busy. You'll have to move quickly."
I dispersed my bugs when they didn't seem to calm down, but I kept track of them, their quick conversation and an officer saying she'd heard the chief gathering people for an operation before she left for patrol. Three cars moved in the direction of the warehouse while two others stayed, cuffing the men who were still on the ground, calling for faster backup.
Peter now had two opponents, both in fighting stances with knives at the ready. One stepped forward, swiped and Peter dodged, catching the offending arm and moving to throw. The man let go of his knife, leveraged himself so he landed on the ground and countered Peter's throw. It didn't work, the man grunting as Peter stayed his ground, helped by his power.
The other man stepped forward to strike and Peter jumped, kicked with both feet sending him sailing back. He fired a web and it hit the man in front of him, sticking. Peter quickly pushed the man back, running around him while binding him with the long string of web. I could see he'd put though in how he looped the thread around the guy, binding it so even if he used his power, he wouldn't be able to escape the loop.
He was done before the last Inhuman could get to his feet and he repeated the process in quick order.
"Sirens," said Peter. "I think my job here is done. Tonight was good."
"Yeah," I said, letting out a breathing I hadn't known I'd been holding.
Terrific Trio
2.2
"We're in the news," said Peter. It was the morning and we were in my room, riding off a good night.
"Yeah?" I said, locking my phone and to the notes I'd prepared for the Crime Stoppers' collection procedures. I didn't know why I hadn't thought about it before, but it would look odd for a fourteen-year-old to cash a cheque. Odd enough to be memorable. I'd have to call in favours.
Peter hummed, showing me his phone. I scrolled through, getting the gist of it. The news wasn't from the police, instead it was a witness statement about seeing a swarm of bugs taking down men in black cars, and another about Spider-Man swing through buildings. This was the preface before a lead into the drug bust, as well as some strands of silk found which corroborated the story of Spider-Man and the Swarm leading or taking part in the bust.
"Cool, right?" said Peter.
"I'm not really sure," I said. "It's a good that people are hearing about it, but what about the police? Too good a job and it might look like they're incompetent. We don't want that. It'll build resentment."
"They wouldn't feel like that, would they?" said Peter. "We're helping people, making their jobs easier. We're on the same side."
"Yeah," I said and a sigh trailed behind the word. "But…people can be stupid sometimes." I took a breath. "And other times, I can be too pessimistic and see the worst in people. This might just be good investigative reporting, trying to get leads before the police decided the narrative."
"Which is…bad? Good?"
"Organisations, any organisation, need the public goodwill. It's why so many businesses put so much money into social development. My pessimism is showing again, and I'm sure some people really want to do good, but others just want do stuff so they can make more money at the end of the day. For the police…which isn't all bad in some cases but can be very bad in others, it's…that they want to make their job easier. The best way to do that is to seem like they're on top of everything."
"So they'll gloss over the part where this was us," said Peter.
I nodded. "The media, when it's doing a good job, stops that from happening. They tell the narrative as it really is, without the same biases as the police, but with their own biases because they're an organisation."
"Organisations are bad, then?" said Peter, a brow raised. "You're saying that like they're all bad."
I groaned. "It's…complicated." I sighed, closing my eyes and thinking over it. "And I don't have a neat answer, which means how I look at them might flip flop."
He nodded and we were silent, him scrolling through his phone while I thought about which favour I'd call in. I knew a few people who were eighteen, even if by association, they weren't relationships I'd tended, but there was enough there that I could get them to cash the cheque for me. The problem was questions and maybe danger?
A healthy sense of paranoia was needed right now and I didn't want to put some poor kid in danger. I wondered if Daniel would help me, maybe cash the cheque for me if he wasn't too busy. But I also didn't want to impose. I still didn't know what a Master of the Mystic Arts did, but I knew it had ties to the multiverse and alternate dimensions. A part of me thought it might involve helping the worlds Scion had ravaged and if that was true, it wasn't something I wanted to disturb.
But maybe I could ask for a magical artefact?
Or maybe Peter could ask. He was more likable and Daniel was already letting him use his house. They were friends. Sort of.
"So," said Peter. I looked up. "Me, Ned, Cindy and Abe are thinking about starting a table-top game…"
I shook my head before he could finish. "Don't get me involved in your nerd doings," I said.
He took a breath, a scandalised expression flickering on. "Nerd doings?"
"Yes," I said. "I…don't roll like that."
"Come on," he said. "Your brain is just begging for it. Don't think I haven't noticed how much your brain wants to do something creative. Calling Inhumans capes, making the whole classification thing and all the hypothetical power runs we do. You'd be an awesome DM."
I groaned. "Come on, Petey. This…"
"Would be good," he said. "Keeping track of multiple storylines, flexing that big brain of yours. It could be a good distraction."
I groaned.
"Please?" he said, pouting. "I mean, Cindy's not bad at it, but…she's not as good as how I think you'd be anyway. And you could get to meet the people I hang out with at school."
I groaned again.
"Please. Please. Please?" he said. "Please? For me? Your brother who loves you? Who I'm sure you love very much too and who you'd disappoint because he already told his friends that they could come this weekend and he'd look uncool if you said no and we had to cancel."
"Fine," I said. "How are we even going to slot this in anyway, between everything we're doing in our other identities."
"I was thinking we just sort of…be passive," said Peter. "I was reading about working, which a lot of people are depressed by. Did you know that?"
"Having bosses is depressing," I said.
"You say that like you have practical knowledge."
"I can comfortably say that because I've been going to school for what feels like twenty years of my life," I told him.
"You're only fourteen."
I ignored him. "I think I can relate to the shackles of a work environment. I think it's worse for certain other people. I have a friend at school," Peter gasped, eyes bulging. Again, I ignored him, though I couldn't help the smile. "She loved this book, I can't really remember what it was. And then we had to do it in English. We had to read it, discuss it and then write an essay on it. She came out of the experience hating the book because it was linked to 'work.'"
"So, it's like…the concept of work your friend doesn't like?"
I nodded. "The moment anything feels like work she loses interest. A part of me is scared for her, 'cause you need to make money and work is the only way to do it. I mean, even crime is work, albeit with more reward."
"Yeah," said Peter. He frowned. "I feel like we were talking about something else."
"Um…You were reading about work, I think?"
"Oh, right. I was reading about work and how it's important to have a work-life balance," he said. "It's more important when you're an entrepreneur because you essential run yourself. I was thinking about this guy who has set timetables of chill time. When to work and when to just relax. One idea I liked was how he'd give himself 'moments of self-reflection' after major events. So he'd, like, finish a deal or whatever and he'd spend time with his family, maybe take them out on vacation or something like that."
"I'm a more riding the momentum sort of girl," I said.
"The problem with that is you're not really resting anywhere in between. It's like, you do something and it works, right, so you keep going, adding onto it and at the end of the line you hit something, all the momentum is gone, transferred. But it's not like you're going to rest after that, when you were riding there was something you were close to achieving and you were so close. So you get started, trying to get at that and maybe you do, but you're riding the momentum again instead of just…breathing, taking it all in."
A part of me reviewed, looking back at my past. I could see what Peter meant, riding momentum and feeling the need more than ever to continue after I'd lost it. Then I'd move on to the next thing and to the next, then next until it was the end of the world. I was sure there were moments of peace between it all, time I spent with Bitch and the dogs, with Tattletale, Brian, Aisha and Regent, but they seemed smaller.
"You're right."
I expected a smile, but Peter wasn't smiling. "Then why do you look sad?"
"It's…complicated," I said. "Maybe I'll tell you someday. When you're older."
There wasn't a quip. "Okay." He took a breath. "But you're okay?"
"Yeah," I said. "Just…Yeah. I am." He gave me a small smile. I had to move this along. "You've been going to Daniel. Training with him."
"You noticed," he said.
"How couldn't I? The thing with the silk, it's the same thing that training guy did to you. Except his was more powered, more impressive."
"I've been going there after school," said Peter. "I don't know why you were worried about the guy, because he just lets me do whatever. I think he likes what we've been doing. If we play it right, we might get magical stuff from him. Imagine the sort of costumes we'd be able to make with magic."
"They would be cool," I said. "But…it might my pessimism again, but I sort of get cult vibes from the Ancient One."
"You've met her?"
"Yeah," I said. I took a breath, gearing my mind up for a lie. Maybe my defences were down and I wasn't watching what I was saying. "She popped in while I was with Daniel, she wanted to meet me. This was when they thought my powers were magic."
"What gave you the cult vibes?"
"She told me about what learning magic might be like. She said I have issues and that magic, even if my powers aren't really magic, was too dangerous a force to wielded by a person with my sort of issues. She told me she could teach me, help me work through my issues in Karma-something. She told me I'd come out of the experience a better person."
Peter shuddered. "Yeah. I can see why you'd get that."
Not the truth, but there was some of it in there. I'd met the Ancient One and she'd told me of her agreement with the Faerie Queen. She would offer me asylum on this world, letting its natural defences protect me from all the enemies I'd made, but there were few things I couldn't do, learning magic being one of them and the other being directly altering my power.
"Daniel is good, though, he seems nice," said Peter.
"The Ancient One seems good too," I said. "It goes back to the whole organisation thing. A cult is an organisation just like any other and it can be good or bad depending. Most are bad and maybe they've taken over the definition of the word. Or the word cult is only meant for the bad groups like that? Whatever the case…"
"You're just naturally 'glass half-empty,' and you don't totally trust that they won't try and pull you in?" said Peter and I nodded, shrugging.
"May's finally done," I said, standing. There were still our morning runs, though we had off days now since I had gymnastics and parkour lessons after school.
***
"Shopping," said Peter. He'd gotten Daniel to cash the cheque and we had twenty-five hundred dollars on us. Dangerous when we were two kids walking down the streets in the early evening—which in winter was very dark—but being the Swarm and Spider-Man helped.
"Yes, but what for?" I said. "I'm thinking dyes, maybe some panelling for our armour. Something light-weight, which will add to the reinforcement of the silk…this isn't business talk, right?"
Peter shook his head. "No, this is good," he said. "You're using the creative side of your brain. I'm not sure how we're going to do this but it's like…we can discuss a general stuff but we can't do anything. Like, we can't have an operation like the one we did last night, but we can still train, still patrol. But lightly, maybe thirty minutes? We can still stop something that pops up when we're there."
"Okay," I said. "I was mostly thinking dyes, maybe a baton in case I ever have to fight close up."
"Yeah. I don't think a baton is going to help you if you ever fight those guys," said Peter. "They were fast and strong. I mean, not as fast or agile as me, but you saw how well they took a punch."
I hummed. "Worries me, that we might have a trump running around with Gao's crew. If they were Gao's people. Is it racist that we saw Chinese and immediately thought the one person with a Chinese sounding name?"
"We didn't actually think that. We saw a drug making operation and thought about her, the whole race thing was incidental."
"Semantics."
"I don't think that word means what you think it means." he said with a bright grin.
I shrugged. "Yeah. Think about it in the abstract, remove language and that's what I mean."
"I can sort of get what you were trying to say. Is there a word for that?"
"No idea."
I shuddered a little, feeling the cold starting to seep into me.
"You know what would have been a good idea? Having Daniel teleport us back home."
I slapped my forehead. "Dumb."
"A little," he said, smiling. "But then we wouldn't have been able to see that." He pointed up and I could see a light in the sky. I couldn't clearly make it out, but for sure it was, but, "Iron Man."
"Or it could be War Machine."
"No it isn't. Is it? I heard he was upstate."
I shrugged. "Could have tried flagging him down if I'd had more warning."
Peter looked at me with big eyes. "Or…we could just break into Avengers tower."
"Yeah…no," I said. "Don't want to be shot down by Iron Man, thank you very much."
"And it would probably leave a bad impression," said Peter. "Heroes breaking into his place."
"Above and beyond that it's illegal."
Peter snorted. "Like you really care," he said.
"But I really should," I said. "Let's go swinging. Make a pass-through Hell's Kitchen as we head back home. The cold's starting to get to me."
We passed by Hell's Kitchen, not really looking but seeing the sights, swinging around while I took a cursory glance with my bugs. We didn't find Daredevil, not that I expected it and we changed direction, heading home.
"Dinner," said Aunt May, when we got back. "Meatloaf." After a change of clothes, into something more snuggly, and hands washed, we all sat together at the table. "So, how was gymnastics today?"
"Coach said I had the body for it and it's a pity he couldn't have had me younger, which was creepy," I said. Aunt May gave me a look. "I heard from the others he's very bad at communicating anything that isn't his craft. There's a boy there, Shannon—"
Peter winced. "Must have been teased about that," he muttered.
"Maybe. He seemed comfortable in his skin and he seemed nice."
"Oh," said Aunt May. "Nice, huh?"
"Ew. No," I said. "Not like that. Just…helpful. He helps the Coach move through some of his social…awkwardness? Not awkwardness, exactly, but…social left-footedness?"
"I don't think that's a word," said Peter.
"I know it isn't," I said scowling at him as he smirked at me. "I'm…I just forgot the phrase I want. Anyway, Shannon has a strong sense of what the Coach means and he relays that to us. Even so, I've heard he's lost student to it. Some parents aren't willing to accept that he might have trouble understanding social cues and just immediately jumped to the bad. Also, he can be curt, that plays a role too I guess."
"Sounds like you like him, though," said Peter.
"He gets to the point, direct, gives constructive criticism and he doesn't talk to just to fill the air with words," I said. "I appreciate that."
"You are such an introvert," Peter said. "Please don't be like that with my friends. I mean, Ned likes it sort of," and he shuddered, "but the others don't know you and it might scare them."
"What's this?" said May.
"Peter convinced me to DM on one of his nerd games," I said.
"Puppy-dog eyes?" she asked.
"Puppy-pout more like," I said. "And he did this thing where he didn't breathe but kept speaking in a continuous sentence. I acquiesced just to save a life."
"My bag of tricks! Discovered!" said Peter.
"Wait you did that on purpose?" I said.
Peter looked at me for a long moment, then, "Can't speak, food in my mouth." He started shovelling in food.
"Careful, you'll choke," said May. "And it's only a few more years before you stop being so adorable that that works."
"I'll never stop being adorable," said Peter.
"Zits, baby brother. Zits. Speaking of. May," I said, giving her a serious look. "Peter's a growing boy and his body is going through changes. If he doesn't understand teenage acne, then I have to wonder what else he doesn't understand."
"You know, you're right," said May. She looked at Peter. "I think it's time, we had the talk."
I held back a chortle at Peter's expression, choosing the moment to excuse myself. In the scales of sister against brother, I'd just evened the score. I shook my head as I left, the gall of thinking he could manipulate me without reprisal. I chuckled softly when I was in my room.
Yeah, having a brother was fun.
***
"Not yet?"
"Not yet," I said. Peter sighed. "I didn't know you had a problem like this."
"I've just never had money like this," he said. "My mind's going a mile a minute thinking about all the possibilities, all the things I could buy. I found myself actually window shopping on my way home and I saw some really cool sneakers I would have bought if I had the money with me."
"Yeah, let's not have you handle our finances."
"Yeah," he said. "But I did have a good idea that might help us. I saw this really good camera while I was window shopping and I thought about maybe us buying it. Taking pictures of Spider-Man, the Swarm or even Lacewing—"
"Still not sold on the name, but…" I shrugged.
"We sell them on-line, make sure we can't get tracked or whatever. It would mean a steady money while we work through things with the law firm and the whole the Swarm getting a job thing."
I hummed. "Good idea," I said. "Especially with how I've been thinking about structuring things with the whole Swarm thing."
"Yeah?"
"I'm thinking amnesia," I said. "No one really knows how Inhumans get their powers which means we can add without really having to worry. So, I'm thinking amnesia. I tell them that I just woke up one day like this without knowing who I am and with no way to track my past since I didn't have any DNA. This will make it easier to explain not having a social security number, even if it extends the amount of paperwork we'll likely have to go through."
"That and the cost for them actually doing the work," said Peter. "How much do you think they'll charge?"
"Don't know, but we might want to have smaller firms in the back burner just in case things don't work out for us," I said. "When does this 'mental reflection' thing stop anyway?"
"Moments of self-reflection," Peter corrected, "and it's not even been a day. I was thinking we keep low until the weekend, enjoy the week before we start doing anything both…no, we have different benchmarks for heavy duty, so anything I could consider heavy duty we put off until the weekend."
"But this doesn't include anything creative or working towards the creative itch?"
"Yeah," he said.
Which meant finding the Devil of Hell's Kitchen was still a thing we'd be doing. I needed to ask where he'd gotten his supplies and how he'd gone about ordering them so I could have the same hook-up.
"Something else, though." I looked his way. "I was thinking about having Ned in on things."
"Okay?"
"I don't know much about coding," he said. "I can fix a computer if I have to, I'm pretty good working through it. But Ned's smarter. For what I'm thinking we do, we'll need someone who really understands crypto-currency and someone who can get to the dark web if it's needed. We could get information on the shady stuff we miss just patrolling. It'll mean more of a clear path, you know?"
"Don't you feel like we're moving too fast?" I said, an unease running through me. It was the logical conclusion to use the Internet to find crime, it would be easier and, as Peter had said, more direct. It should have been something I'd considered. And yet I hadn't.
I was very good a compartmentalising, for good and bad. Was this part of that? Had I locked away the thoughts because it would be pushing me to look at city wide problems when I didn't want to? No, not the right thoughts. It wasn't because I didn't want to, but because I didn't trust myself with all of that.
Peter shrugged. "It just seemed more efficient," he said. "Especially with how things have been going, with what we've been doing. I just…" he stopped as we passed a large group of people and we didn't speak until we were relatively alone again. "I just thought, with everything we've been doing that this is the next step. Your focus has been on dismantling the Big Guy's operations so that he can't recover. For that we need the most information we can get."
"Yes," I said. "But…the Big Guy is just starting up from the looks of it. He hasn't been in the 'game' as long as the others. It means he's easier to take down because he doesn't have much capital, that much manpower. I'm thinking, if we open ourselves up like that, then we're thrusting ourselves in a whole other league without knowing if what we're doing now will be successful."
True in part, but it was mostly rationalisations. The unease was greater now, taking up more mental space, and it was still growing because I wanted it. Memories of Weaver came to the fore, when I'd had all that manpower at my beck and call. I'd had the power to talk to top heroes and have them listen to me, where here I was on the lower rungs of the totem pole. Doing this, doing what Peter was asking for, would be a way of…
I cut off the thought, taking a breath and slowly letting it out.
"Can we table this?" I asked. "Give me some time to get my head around it, what it would entail and plan before we start moving in the direction?"
"Yeah," said Peter. "No rush. We're still self-reflecting. This is me just telling ideas I've had. But Ned could still help, if only to keep our finances on track while we get things sorted with the lawyers. Working with bitcoins--"
"Bitcoins?" I said.
"Yeah. The go-to crypto-currency," said Peter. "I'm sure I've mentioned them."
I shook my head. "For some reason I thought they were Drakemas."
"Like the old Greek money?"
"Spelt differently, like dra…Oh. Okay, yeah," I said. "No, it's something else."
"A story?" I shrugged. "You read too much," he said. "Anyway. I was saying, using crypto-cash could be a better idea because it removes the need to go and cash money. Especially since we're vigilantes and the prime material we'll be getting will need to be hush-hush. We'll have to use the dark web, which means Ned."
I sighed.
Give and get. That's what it felt like being a sibling was all about. He'd given me more time, even when I hadn't really offered any good reason why we couldn't move forward. I could give him this, even when I wasn't too sure about Ned's utility.
"Okay," I said. "Okay."
***
Ned was on his phone, looking around. Peter had sent the text with the location, an alley which usually had little in the way of foot traffic.
"Hello, citizen," said Peter.
Ned looked up, stumbling back. Peter was standing on the wall. "Oh my god," he said. "Spi-Spider-Man." Bugs in the alley started shifting and taking into the air, forming a humanoid mass. He squeaked, stumbling back and falling into a heap of trash.
"Citizen," I said through the bug.
"I—I didn't do anything," he said. "I was just messing around. I swear I didn't do anything."
"Ned," said Peter he jumped down, quickly took off his mask. "It's us. Calm down."
"Peter? You're—"
Peter grinned, standing taller. "Yep. I'm Spider-Man and we need you," he said, ending it with a dramatic point.
"I'm in," said Ned.
"You don't even know—"
"I'm in."
Terrific Trio
2.3
"…so, I'm standing there with these guys and one of them had just stood up after I'd tanked him," Peter was saying. We were in the library, nestled in a corner with me tracking anyone that might be coming our way. Ned was on his computer, Peter lounged back against his chair and my mind was on the spiders working on our costumes while I read a book.
"They're strong, they're fast and they're better fighters," he continued, getting more into the story. Ned was no longer focused on his computer, instead looking at Peter. "A part of me is panicking, but another is like, 'calm down, you got this.'
"I take a breath, looking at all of them and analysing. What are their powers, how do they use them and where can I find the weak spots? They've got this thing where they can make themselves slippery, so my webs don't stick and the Swarm can't tie them down."
"For reference, you're the Swarm, right?" Ned said to me.
"Peter's Spider-Man, I'm, for the time being, Lacewing, and the Swarm is its own thing," I said. "But I control the Swarm. Remember though—"
"First rule of fight club, you don't talk about fight club," Ned and Peter said. Ned was deadly serious while Peter sounded chiding.
"Right," I said, my eyes going back to my book. It was mainly about the Starks and the role they'd played in shaping technological innovations. A dry read, but it was interesting because it was one of the places of divergence from my earth. Howard Stark had been a part of the project that had created Captain America, and he'd used that as well as relationships formed with the military to start his weapons empire.
"Anyway. They're slippery, but I managed to catch one of these guys with a web to the face. So I'm thinking. Why? What was different? Maybe it was because of proximity, the force is greater with the blast being so close, or maybe it was concentration? I caught him off guard. But it also didn't work on all of them.
"So I decide on my first target. He's the 'weakest' and I lunge at him. He's fast enough to dodge but I shoot him pretty quickly and I catch him."
"Awesome," said Ned.
"So I stick him to the wall, high enough that even with his 'brute' nature, he'll have a hard time just walking it off. I tell him this and the guy just decides to slip free." Peter sighed. "Broke his legs, which I warned him about, but," he sighed again, "Taylor tells me not to beat myself up over it."
"Because of his power, catching him would be difficult," I said, more for Ned than Peter. We'd had this discussion before and even if he still didn't like it, it was there. Something he could reflect on so he didn't beat himself up over it. "That would have forced you to get close and that opened you up to getting hurt. It was better this way."
Peter nodded. "So, one guy down and I'm left with these other two, who must be better than the other one and who'll know my trick. So I'm thinking, how do I get them? How do I get past the slipperiness? The answer is pretty simple, hogtie 'em. Make sure that my silk strings catch and offer resistance even with how slippery they are. It was pretty easy after that."
"Um…this is probably a stupid question, but…how do you have so much experience?" he said. He looked at me. "When Peter explains his fight in the warehouse, it's an event. But you just say you captured over twelve guys in a sentence and it's not that big a deal."
I shrugged. "Peter's a close combat fighter, which means adrenaline, having to fight through the panic. I'm long range, I control my bugs while sitting back and letting them do their thing. There's less panic, more time to think and plan. That and it's really easy to just do the same thing over and over since it's hard to fight bugs."
"Makes sense, I guess," he said. He looked away, turning to his computer. "Um…I found it, the gun you were talking about." I moved a little so I peeked over his shoulder. I could see blueprints of the gun as well as jargon I didn't entirely get.
"Do you understand any of this?" I asked.
"Here and there," said Peter. "Energy outputs and trials. Overheating problems with massive power drain issues."
"I also recognise some of the parts. Well, not really recognise them, but they seem familiar. The crux of it is sound and frequency. It…was part of a bunch of projects for sound as a paralysis device." Ned frowned. "There's links to Stark technology but that's blacked out."
"Not really the direction we're supposed to be looking at any rate," I said. "We know how the gun works and where it comes from. Which either means that the Vulture is working with A.I.M scientists or they're just really smart."
"It's not impossible that he has A.I.M people," said Peter. "At least those that were complicit in the whole Mandarin thing. But for them to be working in New York, just under Iron Man's nose…?" Peter shook his head. "That's dumb."
"Or, or, or. Incredibly smart?" said Ned. "Double bluffing maybe? It's not something you'd normally expect."
"Both are equally likely since we know nothing," I said. "Okay, you're useful."
"Told you he was," said Peter.
Ned brightened. "So I'm part of the team?" he said. "Do I get my own codename?"
"Do you want one?" I asked.
"Yes," he said, without hesitation.
"Then yeah. It also makes sense. At some point we'll be speaking to you and we'll have to call you by something. Or…Peter will, he's usually the one who'll head one-on-one encounters."
"You guys already have coms?"
"Taylor's bugs. She can talk through them. She hears what I say and she relays it to you. She's pretty good at doing it."
"Even in a fight?"
"Yep."
"How?"
"I can use my bugs as processing power, which means I can think faster and stretch myself in multiple directions," I said.
His eyes bulged. "Really?"
"No."
He deflated, then inflated. "But it has to be something like that, right? I've heard that people are horrible at multitasking. Better at just starting and stopping whatever they're doing, and even then, the brain takes a little time to get used to something new. But the way you describe it…"
"First thing about powers you have to learn. They don't necessarily make logical sense," I said. "But yeah."
"Taylor doesn't like my powers for some reason," Peter explained. "Calls them bullshit since they seem to thematically relate to a spider."
"That's not it at all," I said. "Okay to the whole spider thing, but how do you stick to walls through your clothes. The reason bugs stick to surfaces is because of hairs and how small they are or something. Even if the same were true for you, that still shouldn't work through your clothes."
"And controlling, seeing and hearing through bugs makes any sort of sense."
"Apples and oranges. The thing I'm up in arms over is…Someone's coming this way," I said. Ned quickly closed his laptop while Peter continued to recline. I looked towards an open book in front of me. Must have gotten wrapped up in their conversation and closed it. A man, in his early twenties, he started a little as he saw us. He scanned through the books, found the one he wanted and left.
"I'm up in arms because you were bitten by a spider," I said again. "That's how your powers should work and yet they don't. Instead there's a whole lot of extra stuff in there that doesn't make sense."
"Could be that you're both Inhumans and the spider just like…directed Peter's powers?"
I shrugged. "Maybe," I said. "Anyway, it's not important. I was only saying that because I want you to be aware. Focus less on how an ability should work and how it's used. Some people aren't varied in how they use their powers, but some are and they're limited because their powers can't do certain things."
"If I were you, I'd be taking notes," said Peter. "Because most likely this is going to be useful on our game this weekend. What were you thinking, anyway? For the game?"
"Ellisburg."
Peter groaned.
"What's Ellisburg?" asked Ned.
"Nightmare scenario," said Peter.
"What you get for pulling me into all of this," I said, "and it's the sort of thing you'll get on such short notice."
"It's basically a dungeon crawl," said Peter. "We're heroes sent in to investigate a large-scale disappearance of a town but there are these monsters there. There's a whole lot more, but I haven't gotten to the centre and figured it all out, yet."
"Are we doing a hero or a fantasy thing?"
"Free-form hero quest," I said. "I work better with powers and I think it's why Peter wanted me in all of this."
"Yep," he said.
"How do powers work?"
"Usually it's Peter with his powers, but we'll have to change that when it's a group. I'm thinking we use the rating system," I said. "There are some other things to balance it out, but that's the basics of it."
"Why do you even do it?" Ned asked.
"To get Peter thinking in the right direction," I said. "How to deal with different powers and how to think on the fly. The dice though are something we don't really do. Should add an element of…something new."
"But not you?" he asked.
"I'm always doing this," I told him.
"Even for Iron Man?" Ned asked. I shrugged. "Okay," he said. "Nightmare scenario, Iron Man's gone rogue and you have to beat him. How would you do it?"
"That…depends on a lot," I said. "But I wouldn't be able to do it on my own. It'd be better if I had a team."
"Okay, then. You get to pick two other heroes to help you."
"Oh, you just messed up there," Peter muttered.
"Thor and Scarlett Witch," I said.
"That's just cheating. Those are like…the strongest Avengers," said Ned.
I shrugged. "Not my fault you gave me a perfect pick. And it's the smart decision. Scarlet Witch is varied while Thor is…Thor. Just angling things right and having him drop his hammer and the fight would be over. Scarlet would be all about distraction or maybe capture. I'm not really sure how her powers work but I'd use her as a blaster, shooting projectiles at Iron Man to impede his mobility."
"And where would you be in all of this?" he asked.
"Sitting back, sipping tea while the Swarm added more bodies, more targets better giving Thor the right moment to attack. Maybe having bugs sever the wires in his suit."
"You really have thought about this," he said and I shrugged.
"You should see the powers she can come up with," said Peter.
"None of which will be mentioned just in case I want to use them in future," I put in.
"Still have the meta-knowledge."
I scowled at him. Peter only grinned.
Ned opened his computer again as we settled into silence. Peter got bored with his reclining and dug into his bag, pulling out some homework. I pulled out my phone, looking through dyes which were both cheap and good quality. I pulled out my notebook and marked their names, making mental notes to start searching for the brands as we went our separate ways.
It was a comfortable silence, something I'd never thought I'd have, especially with Ned. But then, even if he was Peter's best friend, I didn't know him that well.
"Someone moving this way," I would say. At first Ned would immediately close his computer, but after the fifth iteration of that comment, he stopped, settling into a calm.
"Oh, wow," said Ned. Peter and I looked in his direction. He grinned. "Check this out."
He clicked and a video came on:
A man, on the short side, wearing dapper clothes. His face was blurred out as he stood in a large room, dimly lit, but enough that we could see the background. It was cold, made of grey stone with large doors in the distance made of metal.
"Heather," he said, voice singsong. It was a moment before something large came into view, out from one of the rooms. It was a creature, larger than a car and made of all muscle. The thing came forward at a run, slowing as it got closer. It stopped in front of the man.
"Good girl," the man said.
The image cut short.
"That's the thing, right? That was in London after the whole Dark Elves thing with Thor," said Peter.
"Yeah," said Ned. He scrolled down. "Guy's selling it. He's an Inhuman who can control animals with his voice, makes it easier to train them. But this is old. It's probably been sold by now."
I let out a long groan and when I heard myself, I thought I sounded like Marge Simpson.
"I don't think I like this," I said. Peter and Ned looked in my direction. "They're selling animals and you just happened on it. What about the darker stuff? The sort of stuff that might give you nightmares?"
Ned opened his mouth. "I…I'm not a kid. If you guys can go out there and put yourselves in danger, then I can do this."
"That doesn't make me feel any better," I said. Ned moved to speak and I stopped him. "Peter can do this because I'm there, protecting him to the best of my ability. I give him detailed analysis of what to expect, I make sure that anything that can really hurt him is out of the way before he goes in and I'm there, waiting to takeover if things turn out for the worst. But here, I can't help you and I don't like that."
"It's not like you can stop me from looking at this stuff anyway," he said.
"Yes, but I don't like the fact that we're actively asking you to look through it," I said and I sighed. I looked at Peter, hoping he would say anything to help me but he looked conflicted. "Maybe we shouldn't do this, go at this avenue. Maybe we should keep things to the surface?"
"You're the boss," said Peter, less to me and more to Ned. I looked between them. Ned was slightly upset, maybe thinking I was starting to push him out, and it looked like Peter had something he wanted to say.
"I'll leave you guys to it," I said. "I'm going to go buy some dyes. See about that camera. Maybe you guys can look for possible buyers in the meantime?"
"Yeah. We'll get on it," said Peter. I stood and left, keeping an eye on them with bugs I'd stationed there. They didn't talk much, only speaking about school while they focused on their phones. Most likely texting because Peter knew I could be a busy body sometimes.
I pulled in a mass of bugs, situated them on the floor and out of sight.
"Hey, Taylor," said Peter.
"Advanced warning," I said through the bugs. "I'll be pulling the bugs away when you're out of my range."
"Okay," said Peter. "I was wondering, can we discuss before-hand about Ellisburg? Strategize, that sort of thing?"
"Using meta perspective? No. But you can discuss powers," I said. "I'll pay periphery attention, help you through things."
I had my bugs in the alley start gathering the costumes into a bundle as I started walking towards them and I shoved them into my backpack as I got there. Ned was a teenager and so was Peter, to them, I was also a teenager which meant I had limited power. I had no doubt that they were unlikely to heed my advice, but what could I really do?
I took a breath and my mind flickered back to Dad. Had he felt like this? Seen me heading straight towards stupid decisions and felt paralysed because there was nothing he could do to stop me?
Focus on dyes, because I really didn't want to think about it.
I went to the store, pulling out dyes and putting them into a basket. I bought a full assortment of the primary colours, as well as the colours we'd need for our costumes, to hide suspicion and to play around with the colours if it was needed. With that, I started on my way home, paying attention to my surroundings through my bugs.
A bump and it was intentional, grabbing a wallet as they muttered an apology before they walked away. I moved a little and at the right moment I bumped into the guy, leveraging the fact that he wasn't guarding to have him fall.
"Oh!" I said, stepping on his hand and kicking in the same moment. A fumble, it would look like. The wallet skirted away. "I'm sorry," I said, rushing for the wallet. I'd kicked the wallet so that it slid to the guy's target. The man bent first, picking up and recognition flickering on his face.
"I'm sorry," I said as the man opened the wallet. "But that's his." I pointed towards the guy but he was already gone, running.
"Fu—" he stopped himself, looking in my direction. He took a deep breath. "You don't know it kid, but you saved my life." He opened his wallet and handed me ten dollars.
I smiled, thanked him and continued forward, still tracking the guy who'd been running. I got the general gist of the direction he was moving and collected bugs, maybe scare him off, think twice before trying that again.
He stopped, another person in front of him. I clustered bugs so I could get a feel of it. There was a lot going on, a lot of impulses but I pushed everything back, only focusing on the guy and another older guy.
"…this kid," my guy was saying. "Bumped into me and I lost it."
"Her fault?" the older guy said.
My guy sighed. "Right. No. It was me. I wasn't paying attention. I was focusing on putting the wallet away and I didn't notice the kid."
The older guy nodded. "I know it seems like I'm being hard on you. But if you redirect blame, you become complacent. This way, you can ask yourself what I can do better."
"Yeah," said the younger guy.
The older guy threw his arm around the other, mussing his hair and earning a chuckle. "Come on," said the older guy, "let's head back."
Maybe an organisation? Or just an older brother teaching their younger brother how to make it in the streets. I took a breath, slowly letting it out. Maybe I just wanted something to do which wasn't just shopping. I needed to occupy my mind and making costumes just didn't fill as much of my concentration as I liked.
I got a cab, taking me to Freddie's favourite haunts, collecting bugs along the way. There were guys when I got there, six in total and they were just drinking. I'd tested the devices and they had a range of about three feet. They had trouble detecting lice, but any concentration of bugs large enough that I could use their senses and the devices would go off. I made sure to cluster my bugs out of the range of the guys just in case they had a device on them.
I sat and listened, completing the costumes on the side.
Not much was interesting, but I got some information. Some of the guys were new, learning the ropes of their operations, which meant some things slipped that gave me a little info of the greater operation.
"…with the Jamaicans," a guy said, Luke. From the little I could remember he was still new into the group.
"Na-ah," said another, Jerome. "Remember. No talk about operations."
"Yeah, yeah. Restricted to text," said Luke. He sighed, taking a sip. "Fucking Inhumans show up and they make things harder. Make this feel like an office job."
"Hey, if you're not up for it, then better leave now," said Seth, an older member. "The Big Man is uptight because of this this shit. Don't know their powers and they could be listening in and shit."
"Yeah," said Jerome. "You keep going at it and I'mma have to tell the Big Man. You'll lose work."
"Fuckin' fine,' said Luke.
Jerome shrugged. The conversation turned to minutia, discussing girls they'd met and their family lives, though it was in the abstract. I let myself pay less attention to their conversation and mulled the information over. The Big Man was implementing thinker protocols.
A chuckle escaped me. I didn't entirely know what to feel. It would have been too easy to take him down if he wasn't smart, just wait for when they were in one place, doing something obviously illegal and then bust them. But this way it would be harder, I'd have to outwit him, which meant it would feel better when I finally succeeded.
You are such a horrible person.
Even knowing that they were hurting people, a part of me still wanted that challenge, it wanted a sliver of the familiarity of back home.
I took a breath and slowly let it out.
"This is my home now," I muttered under my breath. Aunt May and Peter made this world home, but I also had friends on other worlds which complicated things. I took a breath and let it out again.
It didn't help longing for something unfeasible to get back. I'd already said goodbye to the Undersiders a long time ago. It hurt that though rationally I understood that, the emotional side of me still had those moments of longing. I felt the impulse to push them back, the emotions, but I didn't. I let myself feel them, wrapping myself up in the good and the bad times. They were my friends, my first friends after being alone for a long time. Pushing them away into a compartment, effectively forgetting about them would be an injustice.
I didn't like that it made me feel sad though.
I picked up and my phone and called. "You and Ned done talking yet?"
"You were listening?"
"No," I said. "But I know you. You looked like you wanted to say something and you were afraid of hurting my feelings."
"Yeah. I saw that. Which is why I waited until I was sure you were away," he said. "I don't know if I've told you this before, but you have control issues."
"You have. I do."
He hummed. "Ned thinks you're trying to push him out," he said. "He didn't say it, but…he doesn't have powers and we do. So he thinks that opening himself up to…what you're afraid of will make him useful."
"He's not useless, though," I said. "We wouldn't have told him if he was."
"Shrug," he said. "People are complicated."
"They are," I said. I sighed. "I slipped. I'm not self-reflecting."
Peter groaned. The same groan I'd heard from myself when I'd seen the video with the creature. "I…thought you might. I really thought the whole DM thing would work."
"It is, a little. I'm…learning, trying to see about making something resembling a story for the next time we do this, but…yeah. Sometimes I feel better if I'm moving forward."
He sighed. "One small step," he said. "Can't expect you to change all of a sudden. Okay, find anything cool out?"
"They've got thinker protocols," I said. "Restricting communication to text, most likely compartmentalising information."
"That makes them harder to track," said Peter. "Can you wait a sec? I want Ned in on this. Won't feel good if he knows we're talking business without him."
"Okay."
"Okay, Ned. You on?" said Peter.
"Yeah. Hey, Taylor, or should I use code-names?"
"Personal phones so regular names," I said.
"Taylor was following some of our guys," said Peter. "She says they have thinker protocols."
"Um…thinker," said Ned and I heard loud clicking. "Powers that have to do with gathering information, precognition or heightened senses. Right?"
"Yep," said Peter.
"That means they know about your powers."
"About where we were before Peter brought you in," I said. "They do. Can't really tell how much they know, only that they're taking countermeasures."
"Um…I might be able to help," said Ned. "But…"
"You were using the dark web."
"Yeah. Sorry. But I'm being safe or whatever. I'm not using it to look for anything illegal, just trying to find out as much I can about powers."
I sighed. "Just be careful, Ned."
"I am."
"Then what did you find out?" said Peter.
"There's a hidden wiki," he said. "Catalogues superheroes, supervillains and anything else interesting. It's protected and it wanted me to give them some knowledge about how a person's power worked before I could get in. I…please don't get mad."
I didn't say anything.
"Go ahead, Ned. But maybe we discuss this in the future? Can't make decisions that affect the whole team without the whole team knowing about them."
"Yeah," he said. "Well. I told them about the Swarm. I added to the story you guys have going, about the Swarm being its own person. Anyway, I told them that since the Swarm is made up of bugs, it makes sense that its processing power depends on the number of bugs that make them up, especially if they're a mass. I used the story of you guys letting that guy go as proof of concept. They accepted it."
"Smart," I said.
Peter and I waited. Ned didn't say anything.
"Ned?"
"Right. Right," he said. "Anyway, looking through the wiki, they've some information on some of the players in Queens, figuring out their powers."
"What do they have on me?"
"Swarm: Inhuman that's made up entirely of bugs. Sighting started almost two years ago, stopping minor crime by scaring people off. There's also something here one…person put in, that you helped a relative of theirs with a bed bug infestation in their building?"
"I'm freaked out that that's there," I said. "I forgot I even did that."
"Hey," said Peter. "Maybe we could make it our thing. Pest control. I mean, we'd have to specialise in insects, but termites are a thing."
"Are they even a thing in the city? I thought they were a rural thing," said Ned.
"They are." I said.
"Does your power mean you know everything about bugs?" Ned asked.
"No. I just catalogue them. Pull in bugs that feel different and search for them on-line."
"And that suddenly explains your search history," Peter muttered. "You know, a lot of things in the past that told me you had powers and I'm only now figuring it out."
"What I'm wondering is what you were doing going through my search history."
"We have one computer," he said. "Not my fault you don't clear it."
"Right. I wonder what May thought if she saw it."
"Thought you were going to study bugs," said Peter. "It's what I thought. Ned, you're being quiet."
"Um…"
"Ignore Peter, Ned," I said. "Doesn't understand calling attention to it only makes it worse."
"Yeah. Peter has this thing where he can sometimes talk until his brain catches up. Doesn't understand that not all of us have it."
Peter gasped and I chuckled. "Et tu, Ned? I thought we were best buds."
"Back on subject," I said. "The powers."
"Um…okay. They guess that you can see and hear through the bugs since you've talked through them, held conversations. Then there's like these comments that bad guys should beware because any bug could you and it could hear anything. But there's one guy here who mentions he might have a trick, mentions that he's selling the info."
"I don't like that," I said. "The organisation behind the scenes."
"Weren't you whining about not having something like this?" said Peter.
"I wanted it to be public," I said. "Less…there. That way it makes me think that the bad guys are more likely to get and use that information."
"It's a pretty wide array of people, here," said Ned. "Most of them just like cataloguing. Reading the About page and the creators say their site kept being ddossed. I think it might be because a lot of this information is on the Avengers: What Cap can do, the various incarnations of Iron Man's suits, that sort of thing."
"Okay," I said. "I'm interested in this. But not enough for the charges this conversation will incur. Let's meet tomorrow, start talking about a way forward. If they have information on me, then maybe they might have information on the people Peter fought, on the Oxen, maybe more Inhumans we might face down the line. Might also track the activity of the other heroes close, maybe we can meet, trade information, that sort of thing."
"Remember, light work," said Peter.
"Easy for you to say when you're patrolling," I said. "We all have our vices. Yours are out there, mine are setting up. Ned's are…"
"Hours on my computer giving info so you can use it. The guy in the chair."
"Yeah. Maybe self-reflection includes this?"
Peter only sighed.
"See you tomorrow, Ned. Peter, when you get back."
"Bye," said Ned.
"See ya."