The Weaver's Web Book II: Chapter 12

Preparing for my raid presented certain difficulties. It was likely a higher-up would oversee the initiation. Especially now, because for them to remain hidden while the rank and file were taking risks would be highly damaging to their rep.

But what higher up. What cape?

I had examined everything I had about the E88’s membership. Kaiser and Victor would almost certainly not be in attendance. They were both too high up. Victor’s skills were… unknown, but there was some evidence he was a thinker. He’d shown a wide range of skills but never any direct parahuman power in a physical sense. From what I’d gleaned, he handled many of Kaiser’s operations.

So. Too valuable to risk for something like this. Othala was out for the same reason. Rune was too young and likely wouldn’t command respect. Purity, Night and Fog hadn’t been seen working directly with the Empire recently.

A rift?

I shook my head. I didn’t know. Not yet. But was unlikely they would show up. It had to be someone who would also make it a show. This was a way of marking individuals as part of the E88.

It wouldn’t be Hookwolf or his group. Their initiations were, as far as I could tell, held in his rings, where they would be attacked by other members, fighting back until they were down.

I wonder if Kaiser considers that Hookwolf’s initiations forge a close bond between the new members and Hookwolf as much as they do the Empire.

Unimportant for now.

But I’d set up my gear in order to deal with anyone I might meet. If I was wrong, I would pull back and call the PRT, while distracting them enough to assist any victims to escape.

That was the priority. I could always terrify the E88, after all.

****

At the Iron Cross the crowd was subdued, and I located them all with my bugs. Most people with outstanding felony warrants were laying low, but a group of older teens was being loud and cheerful, downing booze—on the house. I’d taken up position on a roof, a cloak of spider-silk hiding me from the air, while the recorders I’d put in there picked up the goings on inside.

My targets. I could hear their conversations via my recorders, and they were eagerly talking about who they were going to deal with today.

“Some fucking old darkie.”

“Damn, I was hoping for a woman.”

“Dude, you don’t want to stick your thing in that!”

“Hey, give her a taste what it’s like to be with a white—“

I remained still, the recorder drinking down all their comments. Two were from Winslow. Evidently laying low under the new management left them with some anger issues.

“Right, you assholes, let’s go before you get too drunk to punch straight.” The man who entered wasn’t as big as Hookwolf, and I didn’t recognize his voice. I held up my NVG scope as the group came out, a single car waiting for them. The man was wearing a long coat, but as he reached out, it pulled away, revealing pure white skin.

Alabaster.

Alabaster was one of the more irritating capes. Invulnerable to pain, and he reset every four or so seconds. To date, nobody had been able to do him a permanent injury.

Permanent physical injury. I was going to do better.

He had shown no ability to impact items other than his own body.

I smiled as I sent orders, and one of my local spider hives, set above a pile of rat bones, started working furiously. I held out my hand, a small tracker I’d made from cell phone parts in it, and a platoon of wasps took hold of the lines the spiders wove, shooting down to the car, invisible against the night sky.

As I scrambled down, I made use of my latest “invention.”

A pair of rollerblades. I actually found them useful and if they couldn’t beat a car, they could keep me moving faster than expected. If they moved out of my area again, I could just call the PRT.

But they didn’t. I hadn’t thought they would. An initiation normally stayed in E88 turf.

The car made twists and turns, not going fast, but the driver was clearly checking for a tail.

And he wasn’t going far. Just over a mile away from the Iron Cross, in a clearing formed by the backs of several closed businesses. There were lights there and a small group of older E88 members. There was nobody around, and I found a hiding place as I made my preparations.

Was it trap?

Not right now. I had checked the area. There were no lookouts. The cars around the clearing were cold and silent.

“Right, assholes, let’s see if you can fight as well as you can drink,” Alabaster said. He gestured to a van. The door flew open, and… Greg Veder? My former classmate came tumbling out, followed by Mr. Lake from the store.

Why Greg? Mr. Lake… I shook my head, and around me, the bugs started to rumble. The Empire was weak, Orb Weaver their enemy—and I’d left too many clues pointing to Orb Weaver and Mr. Lake.

Stupid.

Greg just lay on the ground, quivering, while Mr. Lake got up, his dark skin and white hair gleaming in the light.

“Oh, hey,” he said. “Sorry, ain’t gonna bring back the inbred discount, no matter what you fucks try.”

“Oh, we gotta talkative Darkie!” Alabaster said. “Someone who thinks that he’s better than the good white people in the Bay.”

“Well, I don’t know about that, ain’t none of us whiter than you, Bastie.”

Greg quivered and a terrified voice emerged from him. “Don’t… don’t piss them off.”

Mr. Lake looked down at Greg, and his voice was…

Pitying. “Son, you don’t get invited to a party like this if not pissing ‘em off was an option. What’d you do?”

“Talked about things that weren’t his to say, didn’t realize that the Empire watches PHO,” Alabaster said.

They watch PHO? Of course, they did. People felt safe online. Greg had, and I expect it took them about five minutes to get enough information to find him.

“I-uh, won’t do it again,” Greg said.

“No he won’t!” Alabaster said. “In fact… Carl, you get the first swing.” He handed a bat to Carl who abruptly looked a little nervous.

“What’s the matter, all that fine free booze, courtesy of Kaiser, getting to you?”

“No, but it’s like, can’t I just deal with the Darkie?”

“Yeah, whitey, let the kid try and deal with me,” Mr. Lake said. “I can’t imagine what his friends would say about all his initiation being kicking the crap out of a nerd. Really kinda sets the stage…”

“We’re getting to you. The kid may get out of this alive. You won’t.” Mr. Lake snorted in contempt. “But Carl, this little worm, disrespected the Empire. He’s a race traitor. Are you gonna go easy on a race traitor? You can’t expect some black or slant to behave differently, but we hold our own kind to a higher standard…”

“Yeah, right, I mean, maybe crap on his head?”

“And you think you’re a part of the Empire? That sounds like you’re still in school.” Alabaster gestured at the bat. “Get to it. I suggest starting with the knee. Unless you want to… refuse the Empire’s offer.”

It was a common method, I’d read. Carl was reluctant and had probably been pegged as the reluctant one from the start. So he’d be the one to beat, maybe kill a teen—as a race traitor, which would both align him with the Empire and give him no out. If he tried to move away from the Empire, he could expect no mercy from the judicial system.

Effective.

But not in this case.

Around them, I set the bugs I’d gathered in the walls to moving. Wings and legs and mandibles all combining to form the sound of a deep, unnerving laugh, slowly growing louder and louder.

“Did you think I would not see you, little insects? Did you think you could strike at me by laying hands on those I have helped before?” out of their sight, my specials unfolded, spider webs woven to form suits that I could fill with insects. In the sewers, spiders moved, chasing panicked rats in front of them. The cars around the clearing suddenly shut down, headlights flaring and dying as insects tore at sensitive wires. The region was plunged into a dim gloom, shouts and cries rising in the air. I didn’t have my drones, but I wouldn’t need them.

“The city cried out to me, and I heard it. I saw you, but my Path will always defeat the little worms that seek to harm this city.”

One of my suits rose and a panicked ganger fired on it. None of the bullets came close, but they couldn’t see that, looking up on the roof where “I” was looking down on them, painted bugs letting the eyes glow.

“Bullets. Against me. Bullets can kill people. But I am Orb Weaver.” I paused and then let the suit dissolve, even as screams emerged as the first rats came crawling out from the grates, squeaking in terror. “Now, gentlemen, and especially you, Alabaster… It is time for school.”