======== SAMPLE 1 ========
’s going to be on more familiar terms with the other heroes, probably. I’ve practiced this stuff, you’ve practiced this stuff. We could maybe cut out the middleman. Come in, I’ll talk to him, we’ll nurture that relationship, and then when we’re done, you can take what you need."

"Why couldn’t either of you afford to give him the necessary attention?"

"He was a hero," she said, "Helped save billions. Elite tinkers. Some of the best materials and stuff out there. The rest of us just don’t know about it. The best bits, the stuff that everyone here knows how to do, but nobody else knows how to use it."

"I can use it," I told her. "I think I can."

She nodded, not convinced.

I turned to Amy. "What did you say to get through to her? I’ve lost count."

She was staring down at Amy, and it wasn’t the brightest smile or the most optimistic tone.

"It’s not just the loss of the mind powers," Victoria said. "It’s… it’s… what’s to come?"

"Complement it with a healthy dose of resentments," I offered.

Amy took the offered jam, tearing down a cube and tucking it into her belt. She handed me the cube, craning her head to look at Victoria.

"Four," she said.

"That’s too many."

"Just four?"

I almost rolled my eyes. "I’ll work on it."

"Just four powers? I can’t stand without my friends to help make me more human."

"They’re coming. I can’t take them on without crippling your other powers."

"I have two more pairs of hands, and one more individual who’s raw material, able to accept my inputs and then consolidate them into something usable. And I already know how to make a lot of the stuff you’re talking about. Bulk amounts, not chaining yourself to someone."

"Enough," Victoria said.

"When all’s said and done, I’ll probably be more dangerous than I’m powerful. But I have what you need. Wood, rope, cloth, fabrics that aren’t going to wear. I have raw materials. And I’ve thought of other uses for the people you sent after me. It’s not a huge army, but it’s a group, and we’ll get the word out."

"We need to take out members of the Undersiders and Burnscars before they get access to those areas," Victoria said. "Wards, state capitals, anything that can come to that. It could be poison, or a trap. Regent says he’s not worried about collateral damage, but I’m just saying… don’t be a villain, don’t be a lunatic, but if you’re going to be a villain, do it as a selfish, villainous act."

"You don’t need my information to stop Bitch from opening fire with her crossbow on Vista. Do it for yourself. Be the asshole about it. You know I’ve watched you, haven’t I? You know I’ve looked at how you operate, the little secrets I’ve picked up on. The way you react to things makes a huge difference in how open and forthcoming you are. The antagonism, it looks like it’s caused you some internal damage, and you seem to need it self-treatment. I’d show you what I mean."

"Fuck me," Vista said.

I didn’t like that it was obvious what she was doing, but I didn’t have any good answers to offer her in that particular conversation.

"You want to self- medicate? I can give you that. I’ll fuck up your face, and then I’ll be a good little girl and you can go do that thing boys never do, where we both go kick a** and yell at each other. Burn in a hole created by your stupidity."

"You could explain," I said.

"I’ll need my phone. Safely in the meantime."

"For now."

I watched as she sidled towards us, sidling up to where Kid Win was standing with his gun raised. She leveled it at Vista, whispered into her mouth, "Get back. I have a coworker that took my laptop."

======== SAMPLE 2 ========
’ll look at something different on the inside.



Lung, Shadow Stalker, Battery, Vista.

It was the best I could do within the confines of the six-foot by six-foot cube. Not perfect, absolutely nothing certain. There was the possibility that they would run right into the edge of the room and crash into something. It’d be one more body in the room for my team to handle, with the upside that it meant I only had to worry about one room. There was the possibility that I could run into another Darkhawk, trying to bite into a cookie. Anything would do.

Choosing just one power didn’t make me think of Raven. Thinking of them as a group felt faintly irresponsible. I was mostly unbothered, however, by the fact that their powers worked regardless of who was wearing them. Vista was blind, for one thing, and her precogs could tend to the blind.

Eleven powers, and I was almost certain I wouldn’t be able to win every fight. That was the trade-off I was making. One inappropriate remark or gesture, and I Was probably fucked. I wanted them to feel like I was fucking them, that was just a nice bonus, and the fact that I was making the powers work even when I wasn’t giving a fuck about them kept them off my back.

That was the background noise of my life. On a good day, I could keep myself reasonably entertained by playingfully announcing that I had a fuckton of powers, lurking around the DMZ, and that was without factoring in the fact that I actually needed to win. If anyone with even a modicum of skepticism for the fact that I was putting myself in that headspace was to blame: I wasn’t tickled pink just to the degree that the PRT expected people to be fucking spanked when they exercised their rights.

"That voice in your head, it’s telling you that you just wasted two or three minutes of your life. Two or three minutes you could have been fucking with someone, instead."

"I… maybe?"

"Could be that," Tagg said, leaning back against his computer desk. "You’re a master manipulator."

"Fuck you," Shadow Stalker said, opining. I approached.

"I’m thinking of rewriting the rules of the game to make it so the last wildcard we revealed would be a sham. Meaning, if we previously tested the wildcards, these ones will be forced to bite the designated target and be delivered by a stranger. If any of you pass the stress test, you get to go home. Good. Not too oppressive."

"I’m… fine," I said. "I don’t mind some restrictions."

"We can toughen the restrictions if you need it," Tagg said.

I frowned.

"Two cards. Vote now."

I cast three votes.

"Let’s make it simpler. Vote no."

I raised my hand. "I don’t want any operatives or gunmen on the premises."

"We’re in a box within a box. It doesn’t make sense for them to be upstairs, getting a look at you. They should be downstairs, seeing the contents of the box. If that means they’re taking up ground floor, well, that’s their prerogative. If it’s another floor, it’s another security measure taken to enhance your security. I don’t think it’s that simple."

"I think of what it did for Brian. It kept him alive, gave him the strength to endure a beating, and I know it changed his security of mind. Let me vote for it. Dragon’s gotta go down, first thing. I’ll be looking forward to it."

His eyes narrowed. "Raise your right hand."

I did. "Plus one for Dragon. It’s the fastest and most direct route to your headquarters."

"That’s more than enough reason for her to go down fighting," he said.

"Raise your left hand."

I raised mine. "One, if you look directly at the camera, you’re rendered invisible for all other cameras, signals, location information, collision and incident details will cease to affect your hearing. Also, the sound will cease to affect your hearing."

"I don’t see the big difference."

"One, three, if you voice the question to me, would be an acceptable amendment. Two, it’s about the people you’re serving. I’m not sure how much you’d actually serve, if

======== SAMPLE 3 ========
’t take off, I turned him over in the air, the two pieces of paper’s pages tucked under one arm, the electronic nibs in my other. I’d hoped for an answer. Had to write it all down. Total mass murder, all my fears come true, the heroes survive.



This wouldn’t be the end. I couldn’t write that down. Something else.

Glaistig Uaine conjured up a picture of a bird’s beak, drawing small circles in the air. Her larger monsters followed suit, until they looked like heads or wings.

"A pheasant’s feather?" I asked.

"Its feather. Its power is reflected in its appearance. A person can look like a pheasant, a bird or a torchbearer, and yet have no power at all," she said. "It’s a basic tenet of the Protectorate that those with the powers to cause physical harm receive periodic check-ins and occasional compensation, weeks or months after the fact, on a case by case basis. Those with the ability to send chirps and crowbars have found favour with the Queen, and her allowance of intermittent payments in the amount of dollars or other considerations make for some pretty interesting and expensive pieces of artwork."

I frowned. That was a no, sorry for me. I raised one hand to rub my own cheek, and she shot me a pointed look.

"I’d tell you I want to scratch that," she said.

"Is it teeth or will it hurt?"

"Jaw," she said, before leaving the hand behind.

I couldn’t formulate an answer to that. I glanced at the killer octopus that was continuing the dismemberment motions without compunction. That would be the most terrifying and disgusting thing I could do. I leisurely approached it, caressing its head, perhaps feeling about the same part as I pet my husband’s or Angela’s.

It took a full minute for the octopus to dismantle itself. I wasn’t entirely sure if it was because of the size of the organ it had dismantled, the sheer number of legs and numerous body parts I could see with my eyes, or if it simply required a bit of time to warm up.

The thing deflated a little, then folded its arms up in front of it, prodding me with exaggerated movements.

"Bat," I said, once it was well behind us, clearly unable to hear.

"Hi, Weaver. Your turn."

Octopus made a strangely melodic sound, as if from the depths, occasionally let go in high tones until it emerged once more.

I gathered my swarm, "You want scratch?"

Octopus stared at me, then made the word into an elongated syllables. I let the octopus stretch out as a tent, then extended my arms.

"Octopus," I said, once I’d gotten the hang of it, "Reach."

Octopus reached out, enveloping the ball of light in his octopus-shaped body. It then unfolded, revealing three planks for the legs, three for the body, and one for the handle.

"Tip," I said, using general instructions, "Keep it away from fire, and don’t get it wet."

Octopus was helping to arrange the planks so the planks weren’t covered in flames, and the entire thing was progressing smoothly, almost seamless, as if he were a very slow motion clock pulled by an invisible, intangible force. I could almost imagine him moving the legs to close the gap, raising the handle, inhaling, then expelling to close the gap itself.

We moved in sync, sending blurted commands to our flying insects. Some swung to positions to catch the attacking blur, while others flew in to take evasive maneuvers. Even the relay bugs, I realized, ashen and deaf with respect to the capes who were in the middle of the floor, were commanded to congregate in pairs, to remain still. I couldn’t be sure if they were ordered to remain quiet or move.

Octopus was overseeing the evacuation of the floor, relaying directions to our flying capes, who were now scattered over the floor. I could sense some of the people making their way out the portals, gathering in on a singular figure, a blur.

"Holy shit," Foil said, as I made a dizzying entrance from the cloud of bugs and spiders. I was sensing the reactions of the people as they saw me. Were they all holding back, at the same time? Ignoring the blur?

I think I understood what Foil was saying. The people were caught between two

======== SAMPLE 4 ========
’t be the same girl who’d shown up for her morning run and hadn’t given a fuck. I felt like I was back in school, the asshole in front of me had just thrown a tantrum and was threatening to physically fight me, even as I calmly explained that I was merely an employee and wouldn’t submit to their terms and conditions. They grumbled but eventually let me go.

I made my way inside, not making eye contact with anyone. If I had to prod, if someone else had to blind someone to hear me, I was okay with it. It got me closer to the doors, into the midst of the desks and chairs.

A female student in a long sleeved shirt was watching me. She said something, which I tried to catch by asking her.

"What are you doing?"

"Checking you for weapons," Grue responded.

"Checking you for weapons… no. I mean, um, you shouldn’t hang around here with a weapon. Glancing at someone’s looking glass is asking for trouble."

"Yeah," he raised his chin a little. "Yeah."

He went on, "And you won’t say anything until I’ve explained. Understand?"

"Yeah," she said. She looked very rational, but when I glanced at the rows and columns of students below me, I saw a dozen students and three teachers from the film school. I wasn’t sure which school they’d gone to, but the teachers here seemed pretty sure they were in the right place.

"You’re in the CFU?" I asked.

"Self-defense," he shook his head. "A guy told me what I had to do, in case I run into trouble with the law, and I still decided to go. It’s why I’m here."

"The hell? Why would I do something illegal?" I asked.

"They mess with the registration, they mess with the judgment, and it’s a big part of why the Protectorate’s in disarray. They can see what you’re really doing."

"That’s not what I’m doing," I stressed.

"It’s exactly what I’m doing. The difference is we’re doing it for the love of the game, and because we’re here for the mission. For this city. We’re not going to lose our minds playing this shit."

"I don’t see what the difference is, Brian."

"You said you were in love with the city, you were in love with someone, once. Do you want that love to spill over into actions? Into hatred? I can help you with that. I have friends that care about this city and the people in it. I can get you fired from a job you don’t like. And if the Protectorate starts looking around, I’ll have you service. Wouldn’t be a big risk to have you there if you do something illegal."

"What are you going to do?"

"I’ll talk to my therapist about it. If you’re going to do something big, illegal or otherwise, it’ll be because this city needs it. Then I go on patrol, do what I can. Things will be looking up."

"Brian-"

He extended a hand, but she shook it. He left it there, feeling a little exasperated.

When I saw the dean, he put one hand on my shoulder and nodded courteously toward me as he passed.

When he turned to the principal, I lowered my voice a fraction. "Yeah. I’m willing to meet with my therapist, see someone."

"You need to explain your thinking."

"It’s simple. I’m angry at the world, and I’m ready to lash out if it means bringing the butcher of Brockton Bay into the picture. What everyone else seems to be seeing as the real tragedy is that it’s a chance to clean up the Docks, to get things in order and stop the rats and the roaches. To be effective, these changes are going to have to be slow. There’s going to have to be some compromise on some level. I don’t think rats or roaches, but they’re definitely a part of it."

"Those are pretty heavy words," the dean said. "I’m not sure I’m following."

"They’re harsh, pretty much put. I’m going to do what I can to make things easier for you, and

======== SAMPLE 5 ========
’t have."

He didn’t answer that.

"I don’t understand," Grue said.

"Come after me," he called out. "I’m going to make you answer. Give us the answer we want."

We could hear the smallest sounds of discord among themselves.

"Bitch? Bonjour?" I asked.

She only stared at me.

"And Skitter?" I asked her, "Your turf? It’s ours. It’s your space, and it’s ours to take. Do what you have to. I don’t see a problem with it. Just… don’t take anything for granted."

She stared me in the face.

"Bonjour, vous faire point three."

He looked at me, then at the capes.

"Vous faire point three," I said.

He looked at me, his brow furrowing, then he extended a hand.

I took it.

"I’m not looking for an argument," he said. "I’m not saying you have to take this, or that these people are for your benefit. But I’m saying I should at least try. This isn’t your battlefield."

"Not pretty. I only barely saw it. You’re not helping them, and they’re not your allies."

"We have the opposite, you understand. The people in charge. It’s their city, and they deserve respect. We’ll help you with that, and the things you want to contribute, we’ll give you."

His expression became something darker. Distantly familiar, but not quite like the obsessions I’d seen on him.

"Violence, science fiction," he said. "It’s… a slow process. You’re more engaged with the physical world, but that’s not to say you’re apathetic. The world is violent, yes, but it’s also our family. I’m saying that while we’re moving forward with the Undersiders."

He nodded, but he didn’t thank me.

"You’ll be returning to your territory, again," I said. "After whatever punishment you’re serving? You’d do what we need you to, and then you’d leave."

"You need a job, just like us," Trickster said. "We need workers, so leave."

"And she’s not moving," I said.

"But it’s more harmful than it is dead. If anything, this is the best way to spread our message. One of our employees will break the news," Trickster said. "Sooth, calm, or at least give us the benefit of doubt."

"Calm before fury," Exalt said.

"I’ll temper my criticism. Her talent is too exploitative. It’s not exploitative because she doesn’t get paid, and she doesn’t get some form of compensation when she’s dead. It’s exploitative because it takes work. There’s soldiers, researchers, technicians, inventors, and all those people who make this possible, and then there’s Exalt. He can prioritize just about any task he’s put in front of him and assign it to us. Once we’ve hooked our heads up, it’s a lot of extra hands to manage, and we don’t have the ability to coordinate or move anything without his permission."

"He has the necessary contacts," Exalt said. "If nothing else, Exalt can find people and places to set up shop. It won’t be easy, but we’ll get it underway."

"We’ll give it to him first," Trickster said. "He’ll be able to adjust his starting salary to match ours, simplify the processes. And he’ll have the contacts."

"All without breaking a sweat," Exalt said.

There were nods all around.

We retired to the open air, the group below us moving just as quickly as we’d moved them.

Exalt had kept the electric shock wrapped around his body, in case his victims cut him with a small knife, or if an object were to make contact with him, causing him severe internal damage. He wasn’t holding his breath for leaks of any kind.

We took off, and the last few hundred feet fell in our direction. I heard the heaviest noise yet, not even the

======== SAMPLE 6 ========
’re here, this is where I need to be, I need you to call him, draw his attention. Use whatever power you have to get a response out of him."

"I don’t have anything that can ward off Glory Girl."

"Go. Focus on what you can do. Don’t waste time. Shoot the bugs out of his hand, give him a generic thumbs up or something. Then go. You can make calls with your bugs, but your mind is most effective when you're still located in a solid physical body. Once you’re in a position where you can communicate with him, it’ll do him a lot of good to have you on the same page."

The man on the phone groaned, deeper than I’d heard it. Armsmaster.

"…Okay," I said. "They’re on their way."

"The bugs are going to get her," Tattletale-Lisa said, "Until the villain makes a mistake."

Grue turned to face his team, and there were boos from the remainder of our group.

"What did you do!?" Bitch screamed the words.

"We’re talking about taking Alexandria," I said. "If you’re not on board, there’s no point to fucking doing this."

Tattletale-Lisa tucked her hair behind her ear, and form switched to reflect the change in voice. She stood next to me. "There’s two ways I can help."

"The first is easier," I said. "You can do what you were doing before. Stay in costume and serve as our body man. You know you can’t get bigger, can’t go out in civilian clothes unless you’re eighteen or younger, and your schedule doesn’t line up, so you’re limited to what you can do there. And that’s without getting into the lunacy of having you jerk off to Justin Beiber’s head. If you’re really worried about seeming scary, you can take a long, hard look at me and me alone."

"The second way is…" Tattletale was taking it in. "Resisting the urge to do something precautionary, or drawing attention to myself as an imminent danger. I don’t have powers, apart from the ones that’ve come from Time and Again, but I have all the confidence in the world."

I could see the pain on Carol’s face, but she kept her composure, her eyes downcast.

The Doctor hit the key switch on the console, and the chairs folded, Atlantis rising from the floor.

"And there we have it," Ms. Yamada said. "The results of tonight’s vote."

"Doubt if you can tell I’m not happy," I said.

"I’ll take what we can get."

I didn’t budge.

"South end of the building, upstairs, okay?"

"Okay," I said.

As Tattletale grabbed her bags, I found domestic tones to speak against. I couldn’t bring myself to say what the Undersiders were. I left that decision to Arcadia High.

As Ms. Yamada stepped out of the lobby, I could see Bitch, no doubt intending to ignore the invader for long enough to give me a chance to make my exit, then revert back to her original, puzzling expression as she realized I’d barely heard her, and that I couldn’t help but hear her, even if I did want to quit.

There was Regent, rounded out by his underling, who would presumably be ordered to stay and let the Doctor leave if I decided I needed to. Tattletale, by contrast, was ordered to keep talking, to listen while the Doctor got her supplies.

In stark contrast to that couple, though, was the man I’d left on the rooftop. He was engrossed in staring up at the tower, his eyes locked on the code.

Looking at him, I couldn’t make out his face, only faintly understood him. His suit, by contrast, was a rigid, heavy machine, with three well positioned panels carving intricate figures into the metal, each a single atom thick, as though they were the elements.

When the panel was about to come off, he reached out, quickly and enthusiastically, and a ‘v’ with a droplet at the base moved in response. A small button was embedded in the floor, so that when he turned the panel back on, it was turned off for a few seconds.

When that wasn’t enough, he moved

======== SAMPLE 7 ========
’ll work to keep you in line, I’m looking forward to having two years of Counter-Strike with me."

He hung up.

"Which was fine, but I kind of hoped you’d tell me to step down," I said. "I think you’ve proven yourself to be a decent leader, and I’m wondering why you’re sticking to your guns like this."

"I had no alternative but to follow you guys out there. I had no other choice."

"But you didn’t have any other choice?" Tagg asked.

"If you had other choices…" I trailed off. I didn’t want to come across as bitch or anything, here.

"Explain?"

"The people you’re referring to, the Southern Wards, they had no other choice but to follow you. I can’t exactly explain that."

"They were directed to fight you because of your association with Cauldron."

"As I explained it to you in plain English, I had no other choice."

The Director didn’t move another limb, but his eye moved to my left, returning to its original position. There was a disapproving look there, too.

When he did move, his arm extended well beyond its original position, shaking me just a little with the Force behind it.

"You broke the truce," Tagg said, quiet. "You’ve attacked a teammate to fill a desperate desperation, now you’re trying to break the truce as well. What does that say?"

"Tinkers use technology to interpret the moods and thoughts of their creations. Hero members are encouraged to break old or unpopular rules, risk something greater, be it friendships or even the truce. I broke the truce because I believed it would unleash a mindless, desperate urge to attack you, to gain an unfair advantage over you, in the hopes that it would inspire others to lash out at their hated peers. I got turfed away."

"You’re an outcast."

"In the big picture, you’re out of their reach. Taylor doesn’t have a good track record when it comes to getting help, getting better, or co-opting others’s things. So I had a group of my minions rig the trap. I can’t remember their name, but they were all secret hand-soldiers. I can’t get them to reveal who they are, but you’re implying that Noelle was any less of a factor than Aisha was when it came to that particular twist of events."

"Aisha wasn’t on your team."

"I can’t be any clearer," he said. He met my eyes, looked down. I couldn’t read his expression with the angle of his forehead and nose.

"Taylor wasn’t on your team. Hell, she wasn’t even in the Undersiders."

"I get it. I could maybe understand that. I think, uh, we’ve got a lot of stuff blowing. Like, you weren’t with the Undersiders because you’re obligated, or something. But you’re telling me it was all my fault, because it suited you, as a leader, to dig for more scapegoats, to dig for something that will justify the bullshit you’re telling me."

"I don’t think it’s that simple," he said. He sighed audibly, and steam bubbled around his mouth.

This conversation is going nowhere, I thought.

"Stay still," I ordered.

He remained still.

"Intruders, alert!" I called out, then I felt compelled to deliver the message while my face was hidden. "Be alert."

My voice was the lockdown system disrupting all but the most carefree moments. I only raised my voice when I was absolutely certain someone was in danger, let alone that someone deserved immediate attention. "Attention Skitter! An Endbringer is headed your way."

Nobody challenged me.

"An Endbringer!?" Tagg called out. There was a small explosion of sound, followed by a thud, reverberating through the building many years down the road. Endbringer?

What was I supposed to say to that?

"In the fourteen years since the Nine have operated, they have perfected their method of teleporting things. I expect this new arrival has the same talent, the same weapon. It’s only a matter of time before they cross paths with you. Powerful allies or despicable enemies."

Endbringer, the thought struck me, and it was almost a falsified thought. The

======== SAMPLE 8 ========
’t know why I asked you if you had a place to stay here. The house burned down, they said. If I’d known, I would have warned you."

"I wouldn’t have cared," I said. Except there was nothing in his body language. He was focused on his feet, almost touchingly so. It made it hard to imagine he was staring at me. "I only wanted you to know that I’d cared. I don’t think I could have pulled it together all by myself."

"I can have," he murmured. He sat down on the railing, then kicked his legs a fraction further apart.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Falling building, some stratus elements, water pollution. Spent decades keeping the peace, never any real trouble, until the bastards in charge took a liking to you. Told me it was duty, honor, and I’d be doing the utmost to protect those shiny new girlies. Told me it was my last chance. Did a pretty decent job of it, until you shoved me under the bus and raised a fuss."

"I told you, Noelle’s a good girl," I said. "But she is a freak. She’s a freak of nature made worse by circumstance. It’s a shame you can’t change that. Because of us, of course."

He nodded, but his focus was on his feet. "Want to bet? You say ‘No, Taylor’ and I laugh?’ and I’ll say ‘Hell no.' And then we’re enemies."

I frowned.

"Gentle Giant," Lisa offered.

"Hey, Lisa," I said. "You’re going with the group?"

"If they aren’t hitting us yet, they’ll start when they’re through taking one building. Join or leave."

"I don’t want to leave," I said. "I’d sacrifice the summer if it meant I could clear out of this shit."

"Sure, but that’s only if they don’t have a reason why they’re staying. Got it?’

"Yeah," I said. No response.

"Got it," Lisa confirmed. Grue hugged her and shook her, and the movement of his hand indicated he was letting go of it. Lisa’s tone was strained. "Sorry."

"Don’t be sorry," I said.

Lisa apologized. Not for the first time. "This happens. I don’t know what to do. Should I do something? Should I yell at him? I don’t know this guy, and I’m not one to take a hard road."

"I like you," I said. "Join me?"

She shook her head.

"Alright," I said. "Are you okay with this?"

She nodded.

"Then it’s a vote of confidence. I don’t think you’ll do anything regretting it, and I don’t think you should throw away the chance to get validation from a hero- someone you really care about-"

She shook her head.

"Alright, then," I concluded. "Let’s talk fiscal responsibility. Since you’ve volunteered, let’s consider extending the next fiscal year."

"You haven’t ruled out asking the Undersiders for some help with the budget thing?"

I nodded. "I can do that. But figuring out who or how to use the money you’re going to get from me could be controversial. You may have more trouble with your employer than I do."

"His budget is pretty damn conservative."

"It is. It represents the Undersiders budget, across all departments. The other departments are budgeted out as a percentage of the total funding the Undersiders expect will be provided over the next few years. As you know, budgeting is a lot of work. Contingency is usually considered the opposite of resources, so it’s probably conservative. I’ll have the Undersiders contribute twenty thousand dollars from the Undersiders Trust, and I’ll say it’s conservative considering the resources we have at our disposal."

"Twenty thousand dollars, and it has to be divided amongst their teammates. You don’t have much remaining after paying your people, and you’re going to have to take care of them in the future. They got funded this way: Series A,001 – Series C,000, giving them an initial amount of money and no responsibilities

======== SAMPLE 9 ========
’d given you a choice between a nice burger and a really good burger, and I’m betting you picked the former. Now go. I really don’t want to talk about this."

I didn’t take my eyes off Lisa, who sat at a table near the front. Brian settled his elbows on his knees and stared off into space for a moment.

I felt my face heat up, and it wasn’t just the headache. I was aware I was provoking her, provoking its own kind of torture.

"So," Lisa started. "Why don’t we finish up here, then? You can dry off, then you can do your laundry. My place is kind of a beauty, I can do that sort of thing."

"No," I responded. "That’s not nice."

"I’d rather you didn’t come, I think."

"That’s a decision between mother nature or god," Lisa replied.

"If you’re going to talk about god anyway, I feel you should explain, shouldn’t ya?"

"You want to talk about why you done wrong? Let’s start with the idea you’re doomed and then move on to the real reasons."

She paused. "Okay. I’ll concede a point for me, then. I’m going to sound a little bitchy here, but this sounds a hell of a lot like what I was talking about when I was going on my mommy tangent about the family, about being responsible and being fair or cutting the line. But I’m still with the team. I’m obligated to follow the rules."

"Fuck that. I’m not sure if these ones are just moderately experienced, or if I can break away from the team and run into some of the other badasses with less hood and more skin."

"The one time I got a […] what you call abonfire out on my team, it was because we dealt with a ton of them. A lot of them. And dealing with a ton of them was bad. So I’m questioning whether you’re really willing to drive yourself to go get those abonums on Taylor here if you think I’m going to be too tight lipped about it."

"You want a fucking a bonfire!" Lisa raised her voice.

I grit my teeth. "I don’t know if you’re playing up her emotions too much, or if you’re taking the hard road and risking alienating the hard working women here, but you know as well as I do that this is the sort of thing we don’t let on."

"I’m well aware of what you guys are doing, Taylor. I’m not dumb, and I’ve seen what it’s like to deal with people just before an event like this. The unspoken rule you broke from the start still stands. You guys won’t get in my way, because you won’t get in mine. We’ll see how long that lasts."

I narrowed my eyes. If I made any moves, would they not go against that? I could react to it if I had to, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to repeat what they’d done to Sophia.

"If these guys want to push this any further, I can."

There was a pause. I could see Sierra turning pale.

"Push it further? The a**hole that is this team boss at this restaurant, Rachel, would be willing to make sacrifices of her wallet to keep her mouth shut about whatever’s going on here."

Sophia’s eyes lit up.

"I’m saying no. There’s no danger. You have your a**holes to deal with."

"That’s not what I’m saying," she said, "What I’m saying is don’t pull stunts."

"Lipreading," I supplied. "That’s a trap. Think about it."

"I always do," she said, "Lipreading some of the finer points of thought that go on inside your head. Force yourself to pay attention to details, figure out patterns. Only thing you’ll miss out on if you do that is when the major stuff hits. Like the fact that your team leader sleeps with his boss and controls the direction that the traffic in the city flows so he can act like Superman. Or the fact that the supervillain in charge of the underworld is a teenage girl. She’s playing the role because she and her siblings get a head start

======== SAMPLE 10 ========
’s, and there’s nothing saying you won’t, given time."

"The kids," Amy answered. It struck me that she was more comfortable here than she was in the Birdcage. This was reality. For the first time in a decade, I was really getting a sense of her personality.

"And for the first time in a decade, I find myself wondering if I’ve really made the most of what I have. Defiant’s theory on the relative strengths of capes is probably right. I’m not quite at the point where I can say I’m a breaker 2.0 without people noticing, but yeah. I could always say I’m a breaker psycho-analyst."

"A ten year career is a pretty small window," I said, "And even if I reduced my power to the bare minimum necessary, I have a lot of catching up to do. What do you say to my companions? I can say I’m a prisoner, that they’re out to get me, and that I should give up power in exchange for amnesty."

"Their individual visions of the greater plan," Saint said. "Hm. There are exceptions, but so is granting more power to others, and granting powers to others who are better at recognizing the connection and using it."

"I appreciate the thought," I said. "I can‑t deny that there’s a need. What I’m seeing now, with my individual focus, is that the precog has found some way to help some people. Either they can’t or shouldn’t do what I’m suggesting."

"With diligence," Saint said. "You’ll find others before you find them. Consider it a good luck charm."

"It’s based on a lie," I said. The first person I contacted was Tattletale, with an updated, accurate description of what I’d been proposing. "The plan as we know it is not only a lie, but it’s a fatal one. If others die in the wake of this, then that’s on us. If things go south, then it’s us. I’d prefer to die fighting than to lead my people to martyrs and collect the cards for the cards I’m posing."

"The sets of cards you’re posing," Teacher said. "I read the assessments well."

"The underlying assumption," I said, "Is that we’ll have access to all the powers the world has to offer. Once people start getting restless, start looking for a way, we’ll have all the power we need. It’s just a question of getting the position of each and every petty superhero from the pediatric teams across America, put each and every one in the formula they were born in under lock and key, and see how well it works."

"The PRT and the corps with the best records in terms of dealing with the Bloodwyvern situation," Teacher said.

"In terms of the raw power, maybe," I said. "There’s a lot of parahumans who can clear up a conversation, and some who can give it serious heart. With luck, we can get a formula to give every PRT agent and cape in Brockton Bay a fighting chance."

"So you agree with this," Saint said. "Defiant, Bonesaw and Teacher- I find it strange that you are joining us, considering what Teacher described to you earlier."

Teacher frowned.

"I’m just saying, regardless of our prior agreements, we’re not armies. If you go to warlord, you’ll lose more than you bring to the table. You’re not a low level lieutenant in the Legion; you’re not a low level general in the Undersiders. You’re not a low level tinker. You’re experts in whatever fields we need," Saint said.

"And you think we’ll fight back," Teacher said. "The—what’s the word? The flaw in your argument?"

Saint fished in his pocket and retrieved a bottle of brandy. He brought it to Teacher.

"A weakness," Teacher said. "Not a weakness you pointed out."

"A weakness that is not easily exploited," Teacher said.

"Spies?"

"Yeah," Teacher said. "Tells time, after the fact. Covered in ivy, hiding the really nasty secrets. Trust me when I say it’s better than leakers."

"Americans are animals," Saint said. "Fools, still. The liars and swine are a

======== SAMPLE 11 ========
’d be happy to go for a walk and have a smoke with my brother, we could keep each other sane, and I really, really, really wanted to go back. At least, I was being realistic."

"It’s a bit extreme," Shadow Stalker observed, "But it’s what I’d be doing, if I had any sense. Kind of. I’m sorry I can’t join in more in the shower, though. Have to watch what I say."

"It’s not that," Tattletale said. She adjusted her jacket, and it fell to the ground. "Sorry. It’s just a big part of why I’m going."

"Really," Lung said. Then he smiled, and Therese almost lost all sense of self-control as she looked at him. A steel stare.

"What?"

"You’re stuck with me."

"I wasn’t! I was just saying I’ve been busy. I go to the gym, am very board-like. I keep those skills sharp. Besides, you wouldn’t tell someone you just got a new hobby, and it can be a lonely thing. We have a club, and I’m in, and then when we have guests over, I tend to slip away for a bit, even though I’m busy. I don’t have that routine, you know? I don’t feel so guilty, you understand?"

Therese felt her pulse quicken. This was the first time in a decade that she’d been spared being spooked by Lung.

"I, um, I suppose I follow a lot of the habits you talk about. A lot of them, actually. I spent a long time keeping track of how many bad memories I had, how many friends I had, and I think I might have started with those, since you’re rambling so much."

"You could try to fix that," Headstone said.

"It’s not a possibility," Chevalier interjected.

Lung answered him, sighing. "Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mean to sound negative, but like you said, I’s just a rather good liar. I’m not proud about how I operate, I don’t post myself online."

"Lung doesn’t matter," Headstone said, as if that was some kind of punchline.

"Lung does! If he’s going to grant himself life-giving powers, he should get off his ass and start acting like one! Besides, like you said, he’s only one. There are other agents of change out there. I’m speaking, of all things. The PRT, the Alliance, the Wards… what were they to you?"

"They were anything but. They were scams, plain and simple. I stopped using my power when he died."

"I’m sorry. He was a scumbag, and all of that. But I’ll remember his words as such. Scumbag. —Don’t think he doesn’t deserve to live. Do you really want that? That he’s not the threat he could be? With the lure of his killer instinct, he can’t ‘corrode’ you. Make you wear a gauntlet and set you on your knees before millions of viewers. You wear a mask that says it’s a joke? Maybe it’s for Andy’s sake? I’ll drop hints. We’ll see. Then I’ll make him wear a gauntlet. Tell him that it’s not fair that you got the short end of the stick. Take the plunge. You’ll thank me."

Golem closed his eyes.

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======== SAMPLE 12 ========
’t be my last night on Earth Bet."

The feeling across my face was almost worse than the sight of him. I must have turned red.

"Did you bring anything?" she asked.

"My knife," I told her. "My spruce-palmed shinobiuteki and my candle."

"You didn’t cook?" She pressed.

"Only my dinner. I can’t leave anything out. I didn’t serve anyone, but I wasn’t entirely comfortable with how they turned out."

"You’re going back?" She asked me, her voice level.

I shook my head. "Need a few drinks, then yes. Dinner with the gang tonight."

"And money?"

"It’s all going to the Birdcage, so my contributions aren’t really a consideration."

"I could use some," he said. "With some friends like Coil, I’m not guaranteed safety."

"I was there for the Leviathan attack, I could order you tickets. We wouldn’t have had to go through the wringer with the heroes closing in."

"Thank you," he said. His Zanarkand was wearing off, now, I thought. His powers were nearly gone, but he always seemed to bring this characteristic that made him endlessly capable, clever, and versatile. I hadn’t seen it on record, but there were those parts of his biology that activated when he thought something was going on, rewiring to redden hard matter and override logic. Whatever it was, it seemed to be working best on his swarm-clone.

It was up to us whether we cooperated. I could only hope that the fact that the local heroes didn’t trust the D. She was only keeping us in line, all of the time, keeping us from acting inappropriately.

Tagg rose from his seat just in front of me. He gave me a dubious glance as he looked in my general direction.

"Given the sensitivities of these matters," he said, "I thought I’d ask you to step down. I can make compromises, see that your security is ensured, and I’ll have your help in guarding this facility. That’s what we need."

He approached the tray with the spades and set them on it. "These operations continue regardless of what we’ve done here. You can’t put a thumbdrive in here, sir, or you’ll lose it. But I trust you’ll come to your senses, knowing where all of our facilities are."

I didn’t argue the need to keep things discreet.

"Now," Governor Christner spoke, "I’d like you to fill out some additional paperwork, prior to handing me your mug. If you’re going to refuse my help, I think you should expect I’ll try to get a response from you to that point."

I reluctantly handed over the shredded envelope. As I flipped through it, I could hear him rattle off a short list of names. I guessed each time he gave a name. Christner, Chevalier, Nathalie, Rook, Leet, Rookmare, Romm, Resolute, Savage, Skitter…

"You’re not getting enough details in your blank stares and looks in your general direction. I hate it when people act like second rate heroes, and you sink or swim when it comes to playing the long game."

I bit my lip and focused on my bugs. They were telling me about his powers, his target, his target’s powers, our end of the bargain. The more I learned, the less stable the information seemed to be. Every time I checked it, I found a bug that hadn’t been in my range when the event occurred, or a new one I had to copy over from another source. It was like the mini-doses I had taken for granted when I was on my second date with a girl, only I had glimpses of certain others I had failed to touch in the process. It was like classes, every class I took had to start with a study of the core subjects, no advanced reading, no video lectures.

Hell, it was like the martial arts I had participated in, even if I had skipped the part where I learned a lot of tactics. Even the parts where I had botched things or abused my abilities, I had to put it behind me and count myself lucky that I hadn’t gone that route, because a failed assassination attempt or a week without a class could see me losing my mind.

Except this was deliberate. Rocking the ego, no doubt.

"I’ve got everything

======== SAMPLE 13 ========
’d been too busy to care. I was focused on my bugs. They were multiplying, and I was getting more distracted by the barrage of sights and sounds than I was by the specifics.

Three hours ago, I might have muted them with commands on my phone. I was too tired, and my attention was probably elsewhere. There was no point in keeping them going for that reason. I could maintain some measure of situational awareness, maybe track my surroundings somehow, but really only allowed myself to focus on the swarm.

Now, I could barely spare attention. I was covering all of the major ones, the obvious choices from the top of my list that would give me a head start. I was organizing the memories and skills of my swarm so that I could maximize their chances of survival. It was almost obsessive. I was trying to remember how to properly grip and strike a blow with my bugs, the optimal range for crushing a leg, a stance to adopt when opening with my mouth. It was almost something I was supposed to be doing more for fun than anything.

Tattletale was on the phone, jabbing an arrow in my general direction. I started toward her, sure enough, but she was acting as if I was an enemy, keeping everyone in my range under cover.

That probably hadn’t been enough. I moved on.

Tentatively, I found several weaknesses in her defenses. There was a chance that she was defaulting to a form of mental warfare, because her perceptions were weaker. I set bugs to chewing on her flesh. Her entrails weren’t the limit, either; I found mandibles and blades well beneath her flesh, and even things smaller. She couldn’t generate forcefields or whatever to protect herself, and if those things pierce through her entrails, they could take some of the top of her head, sever the flesh.

This wasn’t a tactical retreat. It was a deliberate, offhand attack. If she didn’t look too hard, I could command her to shoot.

There was the impression that it had something to do with the time gap. I was back in New Delhi just hours ago, and the only difference between us was that I was wearing my costume and she was unconscious.

The shot was live, meaning my bugs had time to pick up the slack. That, or it was something I could override. I noted the fact that she was still choking.

I kicked the dog into action. It wasn’t an easy thing to do. The dog was tough, but the dog wasn’t quite strong enough to withstand me. I had a few hundred bugs stinging her, but it wasn’t enough tooth and nail her. With her struggles and yells, I raised the istg above her head, perpendicular to her movement, and sent threads of silk into her mouth and nose.

That did something to loosen her choking. She started to try and relax, but I lashed out, trying to shush her, as if I could get her to stop.

Then I did something very different. I brought both arms to her face, and almost couldn’t tell if my arm or my arm had done it. The bugs were only just getting established earlier, and even after I loosened them up a fraction, sent them into her eyes, she started to struggle. I fished for some kind of thread, started to use my fingertips to pace away from her face, and found only a fist.

For an instant, I was afraid I might lose my grip, lose my grip on her arms or her legs, lose my grip on whatever was in her mouth.

Then I saw what she was really making. My fingertips found cracks, as she pulled her fingers out of her mouth and used them to try and dig herself a grip. The moment I saw her digits pop free, she looked up at me. She grabbed the fist apart and pulled her knees forward, dragging her fingers along the road’s surface like she was trying to keep a pebble from sliding into her mouth.

I brought both fists out to her face, trying to find an angle where I could punch free.

She slammed into me, knocking both of us to the ground. I managed to grab her to keep her from going over the mark, but she dragged me away, hard.

"Go!" I shouted, "Fuuuuuck! Uuuuungh!"

She tried to make her way over the crest of the hill, but I saw her reaching out to energy to move her hand into the craggy dirt where her foot had been. She fumbled with it, then used her free hand to push me back away.

Damn, these gloves were cozy.

I glanced over my shoulder to see a crowd of more than one hundred people. I

======== SAMPLE 14 ========
’s just my mom."

I shook my head. "She was a hard mom to get along with. Constantly moved, always on the move, always demanding stuff from her kids. If she was at a loss for something, she demanded it from me. If she was tired from the demands of such, or just didn’t have the energy to read a book while her kids got something they needed, I was there to give them a little break, a chance to take a nap or play, a moment to justbe around. Or if I’d found out later that she had been bullied, she’d just kill me on my way out the door."

"She was a martyr," Fortuna said.

"Maybe. Whatever. I got over that."

She smiled a little, but it wasn’t a happy expression. "You’re a good kid, Taylor. You know that. I’ll even let you call me if I’m pissed off anymore, if I’m envious or something. I’m not hard to get along with."

"You mean you’re loyal," I said.

"Yeah."

"Yeah. That’s not why you’re unhappy."

"It’s like how the bedbugs can fly, or the cockroaches can hop on your bed and make you squeal. I can be nice, be good, be tolerable. And you can trust me."

"You said it before," my dad commented, on the row of windows directly in front of us. Embarrassed, I turned around to look at him.

He didn’t get that chance. In one instant, the screen went black, the music abruptly stopping, and the teacher and Fortuna Yats was standing in front of us.

It was like seeing a ghost. A whirlwind dance of blackness and instant death.

"Taylor!" Fortuna shouted, a note of despair in her voice.

He took a step forward, but seeing the state of shame on his son’s face, I couldn’t make him look me in the eye and promise that I’d make it right.

"That’s enough," he said, in the momentary light that streamed in from the windows. He looked like he’d been slapped in the face.

With barely a moment’s thought, he fumbled with his gun and pulled the trigger. A golden circle appeared in the air, less a gun barrel and more a stylized pencil with the missing end removed. There was a sound like a watch catching a break, but it wasn’t stopped. The barrel came free, and the tab, clip and spring’s position suddenly shifted, all at once. The resulting blast sent Fortuna sprawling and carved a gaping hole in the teen’s chest.

"Uh, guys," I started, once I realized what they’d done, "I don’t know what weapon you use to make those blasts like that, but whatever you’re using now, it sounds like something they’d use."

"We don’t need your help, dumbass," one of the other guys said.

"Pssshhhhh," another guy said, a female one, with the help of a mushroom cloud. When the guy didn’t get what that meant, she explained, "You bend down, you shoot me, untie me, then you tie that shit to someone and make me do the dumbass thing and give you a few seconds to think about it before you murder me."

I struggled to take in every sound within a half-mile of me, in the noise and the movement of the clouds, the shockwaves and the jet stream , and the sheer lack of it. I felt nauseous, as though I were going to throw up any second. My stomach knew the same.

We had the worst of both worlds. If we happened to get one lucky, one of us might wind up dying. Having them surrounded by enough people with strong stomachs make for a formidable horde.

"I could sing you a song of destruction," Grue suggested.

"Oh, superpowers are lame," Regent retorted.

I could only duck into my darkness, pass out of my field of vision, and tentatively make my way to my flashlight so I could be sure I was where I needed to be. I found it even more lame. The people in our group were trying to do everything in their power to avoid our being exposed, and that only resulted in a miserable existence. We were falling behind, even if we pretended it wasn’t the case. Our enemies were oblivious to the

======== SAMPLE 15 ========
’s hands weren’t working properly. I could feel the pressure of his power against my back, as well as the stiffness of his fingers and leathery shaft.

He thrust harder, harder, faster. Hell, it was as much of a NO! as I’d ever heard.

He stopped, a foot away from my face. I screamed, and he slapped my face. The blow was slow, almost like a breath of fresh air. I groaned, felt the hardness of it against the back of my head.

When I looked up again, I saw him staring. Fuck me, was I in love. Or was I in a bad headspace, being forced to love something that was beyond repair?

"Traitor," he murmured.

I looked up at him. I felt a bead of sweat running down the of my neck, and man, was I still getting punished for thinking he might like me.

I swallowed hard. "Speaking of inflaming the love bug…"

I wasn’t quite sure how to word that. Inflaming the love bug?





Speck 30.2


"You were talking in general terms," Rachel said.

I nodded.

"I heard what you said about your seed taking priority."

"Yes."

"Kind of a problem if there’s two versions of the seed, one at any given time, because the love bug phases in and out, overwrites the copies of the seed the form the elements give them, which means there’s less material to use. It also means there’s trouble if the love bug version dies, because it becomes an endangered species. The next time I get a seed, I’ll kill you. Then the ones who survive will kill others, for what they’re worth. I’ll say my peace of mind expires at that point."

"Doesn’t sound like the ideal world to be in."

"It is, but it’s not the ideal world. I’m just saying, there’s always options."

I nodded once.

She tilted her head to the side. "What do you want to hear about the bug girl?"

"What bugs?"

She tapped one on her belt. It buzzed. "Rare earth elements."

That was PsyNet-up from hire Sith, from the team of Hongkongers who’d brought Rodan and the others to the city.

"We can work out a deal, then," Revel said. "Just not what we’d want to do as a duo."

"Okay," I said. "Bitch, let’s go."

"Don’t let us," she said. "Fucking Mercenaries. We’re not partners."

Fuck me, I felt like a shelled egg. I couldn’t keep a good sentence together. "As a duo, we have to work together to remove the suits? You take the legal route, and we do the same thing twice. Same thing with me and you use your abilities to disable the suits, unhurt."

"That’s not what I’m doing."

"It’s the only way to go. Go, go! Finish that sandwich you’re eating right now, and come back!"

The bugs outside were getting more agitated. I sent some moving them my way; the undersized houseflies, pill bugs and dragonflies. They gathered on the Hongkongers as they broke into another apartment and started pelting them. One smashed a piece of cardboard into their faces as they ran into him.

I found a secondizen and split it into four equal servings. Picking at the remaining bits, I tested it.

"Sterile… but not enough," I said. Hongkongers ran in circles as the cities sprouted up around them, but there weren’t any significant changes. I was left only with the novel idea that the island could pop back together any time I wanted.

My bugs weren’t making any notable headway.

The buildings had started to crumble. This would have to do.





Colony 15.9


The last urban area I’d entered had been an abandoned warehouse, and it had been a moment where people had died or been horribly hurt. I’d entered as part of a small group, with Jake, Sakuya and Krouse alongside me. The rest of us took a circuitous route, navigating through collapsed buildings, over flattened bridges, through flooded lawns and into flooded streets.

I held my rain boots over my head, arranging them to ensure I didn’t

======== SAMPLE 16 ========
’t quite a match for anything we’d seen before. We were left blinking in shock, glad to be outside, maybe, but we were still strangers, members of a local team. The idea of talking politics with a bunch of strangers? Not a worry at all.

"The other news, I heard that," the girl with the eye shadow said.

"The one where Coil killed Alexandria," I said.

"The only way he’d let that slip would have been if the heroes were ready to arrest him, and if that arrest made some sort of connection with the group that released the video. If we let him walk, he’s got reinforcements. Anyone who worked for him would leave him alone, for exactly that reason."

"The real news?"

"The real news is that Dinah lied about letting the A.I. use her ability," I said. "She told him the whole incident could have been a trap."

"A trap?" Sundancer asked.

"She could have told him the same thing she told Coil, that the plan could fall apart if we let the truth be known," I said. "He’d still want to protect his partner, probably, and he’d want to finish things here, in the event it became public. The guy would be all too willing to cooperate, when it came to answering us. It’s the sort of thing Coil would look out for."

"What do you want me to do?" Imp asked. "Do I send her to a more secure facility? Keep her in custody? Something can and will go down at the end of the week."

"It depends on how she responds when she comes back," I said.

"Harder than it looks," Sundancer said. "He could say what he wanted, he could kill her, and it doesn’t show on camera. It’s how she’s wired, and it’s how she’s going to act when she gets free."

I opened my mouth to speak, then stopped. "The written word is going to do a lot more to soften the blow than anything else, I suspect."

"I don’t know what I do," Sundancer said. "The guy has a nice voice."

I opened my mouth to speak, and then shut it.

"Condescending," Grue said.

I glanced at him. "I’m not talking about Skitter. I’m talking about an official containment van."

"A containment van?" Trickster asked.

I nodded. "Tinkers have a reputation when it comes to codifying weird powers. It’s not supposed to be one of them, but the PRT likes to tout the fact that their weird powers make up only five or six percent of their total powers, when it comes to that sort of thing. Either way, it’s not generally known that Tattletale maintains a rather extensive stash of tinker-made circuit boards. Having a tinker on staff forces the� Tanton formula to be used frequently. This lets her keep on top of the formula, which is especially useful in a situation like this. She was able to get the balance right, limiting the effect of the tinker formula to what was required at the time. Equally important, the tinker takes time to research and build."

"The balance is bad," Grue observed.

"Containment foam and nuclear weapons would keep the growing pile of containment foam from saturating the stack, and the increased friction and resistance of SCP-682’s material would make for a brittle, flexible material. With the manner in which she’s moving, I would bet her containment foam can ‘penetrate’ the metal of the containment van’s frame. That would give her a chance of keeping herself more or less intact as she plows through the obstacle."

"But she could also use the metal and break the frame," I said.

"That is her preference, but I have faith she would rather see SCP-682 damaged than to drop it. She would rather not have it puncture her internal organs, and if it happened, she’d rather be a slow, painful death than get the chance to draw attention to herself."

"Which she has to," I said. "There is no other way to put it. Her favorite color is black, her favorite object is a light gray and her nightmare is a terrifying and brilliant nightmare. Given these and other inconsistencies, I would imagine her nightmare lasts anywhere from one to ten years."

"But she’s going to get shaken up soon," Tattletale said. "Her brain is starting to get explored, now. Her second trigger

======== SAMPLE 17 ========
’t like he could have had one.

"We can’t trust them anymore," Faultline said. "They’ve moved on Bitch. Grue isn’t as persistent, isn’t as tenacious. And Cherish has gone rogue."

"This is about as egregious as anything they’ve done to me," I said. "And they still haven’t found a way to hurt me."

"Yes," Chevalier said. He wasn’t taking his eyes off Faultline or Spitfire.

"You could have tried," I said.

"I would have, but…"

"Would have," you say.

"I don’t think any of us are stupid. Like you said, the ABB was always a sore point. I never did any serious criminal activity, but I heard about what was happening on the news, especially when I was in high school. Bitch and Tattletale were really popular channels, and I did stuff there. Some of my gang even did some time as a result, because there just wasn’t enough room in my schedule to schedule regular patrols and court them regularly. But I don’t think Tattletale or any of us realized how serious the situation was, or if there were any other priorities."

"And Jack?" Teacher asked.

"Justified or not, it was our focus," Faultline retorted. "Our family was still hurt, your family was mostly OK with it. I don’t think either of us were willing to move on the subject, or unwilling to ask, ‘why Sammy here is doing what he’s doing?’"

"Because it’s close to home?" Chevalier asked. "My dad still talks like he’s from here. My mom doesn’t. They’re family."

"When I was in elementary school, I went looking for the old spelling bee board, and I could remember where we were standing. There were heroes and villains from all around the city. I was tiny then, and Jack Slash was among them. It was pretty cool to see. I thought he’d moved on, but his daughter shows us the right photo and we instantly think of the dad in blue. It’s a long way from home."

"I grew up in an area where everything was connected," I said. "My mom and I were lucky enough to be in the same area grade school and high school. I could go anywhere and I was safe. I remember being scared, being outraged when the Slaughterhouse Nine came to town. I could remember being concerned, getting even more scared when I found out their secret identities. I just can’t put my finger on why. It’s not that I didn’t believe they could fake themselves out, I did. I was just more focused on keeping my mouth shut and being a good girl than it was on anything else."

"Did you experience any of that? Of fear, of being in the wrong place at the wrong time?" Mrs. Yamada asked.

I nodded, no sooner listened to their stories than I could see bloodstains on the walls, machinery on the job site. Bright colors.

"I started applying for the TRendi program," I said. "I told her in no uncertain terms that I wouldn’t combat the Nine or my heroes if she made it part of the program. She was still inclined to let things slide, so no major punishments ever came my way. In fact, it was something of a perk, because it kept me out of the main fray of the Battle of Brockton Bay."

"What did you do? What did you do that changed your perspective?"

"Made a deal with Jack. Took a lot of heat off the PRT. Served as an enforcer for the Yàngbǎn, in exchange for… assurances. Truth be told, I made more money off the program than I did off the crime. Then I served as an enforcer for the Yàngbǎn, and everything changed."

"They hit bottom, what?"

"With Jack, it seemed. With Chevalier, Defiant and myself. We’d started to take the easy way out, using the loopholes in the system, relying on Jack to do what we wanted, without saying or doing anything that was especially fucked up. Then everything changed and we quadrupled down. It wasn’t an overnight adjustment, either. It took time to get used to it. Served as an excuse to avoid dealing with the issues head on."

"Does it bother you?"

"No. Not really."

"You were willing to turn your back

======== SAMPLE 18 ========
’t. "All this time, you’ve been trying to help me. I’ll give you the answers you want, I’ll even believe it’s true, because you deserve it, because I’ve seen too many people cheat or lie to get what they want."

She gripped the chain till it was slick, then turned to me. "Just take your stupid scalpel. Leave my wrists alone. If you have a problem with this-"

I glanced at the scalpel and felt a tap on the wrist. A moment later, the scalpel fell from her fingers, sticking to the wall behind me.

"Hey!" she tugged on the chain, making it twitch. "Look! This backpack is packed with treats! There’s chocolate, too! Bars, candy, more chocolate, too! Cakes, too! There are so many tasty treats here!"

I was lost in thinking of how to respond. So much to consider. I might have questioned the appropriateness of her methods if I hadn’t had Emma in my corner, and I might have called her on her bullshit if she hadn’t had the benefit of the doubt.

"I can’t say all of it, can I?" she had the knife out of her hands, still working on the backpack. "Beffo, show me!"

It was probably better at hearing a response than trying to figure something out on my own. I turned and looked at the building.

The ground was wet, but there were not thousands of ticks. I later found out that the ticks couldn’t live anywhere near where I lived, and that was even without considering the fact that the area was prone to thunderstorms.

The bugs from my swarm made their way to Emma. They weren’t organized, and a number were diverting attention to themselves. There were two, two had three’s instead of two’s, a queen without a ‘manner’ and others I couldn’t identify.

They stopped where they were, between my swarm and the two men. Looked at me like I was blind.

Emma turned to stare at them, her eyes narrowing.

"What?" I asked.

"This. This thing at the mall. Do you think you can get away with walking around and taking a shortcut through some kid’s play and pretend I’m some kind of cape? Hell, what if I decided to let you walk all over me? I’ll be home sooner than later!"

This was uncharitable, I thought, but I managed to work something out. It was like we were family. "You could stop pretending."

"I’m sticking to the deal I had with Mr. Gladly. Deal is, whenever I take a shortcut through the mall, I save you. Scratch that."

A deep impression of the thunderous howl of a thousand rainbows streaking across dark sky filled our air.

It was all I could do to keep from jumping and rushing to my feet. I just thanked Emma.

"Now, now, Taylor," her dad said, "You saved our family, and now you’re in charge of today. You can do as you like. Go to the store, or you can pay a visit to the dentist’s office. You have a visit scheduled, now goes where you want it to go."

My hands dropped from my facerest, and I could feel them drop so slowly and far away it felt unreal. I had my hand on my heart. It wasn’t beating.

"Good luck with your new post, Dursley," my dad said. "Best wishes, Dad."

I didn’t say anything else.

I almost forgot what we’d just done, what we’d always done. It was a privilege to be around these kids who had it all, the trust of their parents, the support of their siblings and friends, the camaraderie, the camaraderie between team Wards and their families. These kids could disappear at a moment’s notice, and they would likely do it with innocent people in their midst.

There were kids who had it all, and then there were the supers. I wondered if any of them had seen what my dad was doing. They didn’t have powers, but they had the mutant precognition of their powers, which meant they saw everything in terms of that one lens of glasses. It was unfortunate, the lens they looked through, the simple fact that they could see things so clearly with normal vision, or how they could manipulate light and dark to varying degrees. Through certain powers, some law in some organization, powers that

======== SAMPLE 19 ========
’t get a chance to speak, when a pair of people arrived at our location, moving about a dozen feet behind Tattletale. These guys were heavysized mercenaries with faces like battle scars, each with a monster trucker tattoo across their cheeks. They carried guns and two or three different kinds of ammunition, each with some combination of a grenade, machine gun, plasma gun, minigun, flame thrower, rocket launcher and stiletto knife.

Flechette fired a shot, and the soldiers backed off. That left Flechette, Kid Win and Tattletale to face the approaching group. I was already getting ready to use my power, making a mental note to watch out for the containment foam.

The awkwardness between the trio became a problem as the two male soldiers approached. Tattletale stepped closer, so that her arm could rest on my shoulder. I complied, trying not to show fear.

The three of them joined Grue and Rachel, and the group broke up.

"Didn’t expect anyone," Imp said, "And you really shouldn’t be here. Losing friends like this, you don’t deserve any less."

I only nodded.

"We shouldn’t be fucking with them," Regent muttered.

"Trust me," Grue said.

"Fuck you, Regent," Imp said.

"Fuck you too," Regent added.

It was a typical conversation, unscripted, off the cuff. Regent didn’t quite seem to care about the others. He was what you might call a loud guy, and he had that characteristic ‘loud’ aura about him that made him immediately stand out in the crowd. It was a quality that helped him avoid being noticed, which was why we couldn’t be running in the middle of the street, directly beneath the bus sheltering the Protectorate members.

In any event, we reached the end of the plaza, and the area was left mostly clear of the three villains. The sides were mostly clear, but a handful of buildings had light colored blotches on them. The spots had a dark blue to their colors, with small patches of light filling the voids. These areas did nothing to conceal the spots, and did become visible to Scion, if he happened to be in the area.

Well, we didn’t have flash to go off if someone spotted us. Rachel snagged a nearby building and moved between the edges, aiming high. She quickly abandoned the shot and switched to a different weapon as she lowered it toward the ground. Another detour was required; we were now facing either a hostile force who was covering our retreat or a group of our own people, who were waiting to ambush us.

"Don’t be foolish, Ren," Tattletale cautioned. She had a handgun slung over one shoulder and was sprinting toward a building. It was shaky at best, indistinct. She was probably there for the Equalist thing, but what would happen to the guys bound tight in the bus? Getting loose?

"What’s going on? Can’t see with my eyes closed."

"My field of vision’s bad, and I can’t see anything with my power’s even looking at it. Artificially bright. You can feel the vibrations, but not the colors. You can’t feel color, right? Right? So what I’m seeing with my power is blurry, jaggy, maybe someone calling my name, maybe a fluke."

"I see. What I need to see is going up, then moving back down."

"Right. You keep looking for the culprit. I’ll tell you what the culprit is. Your guess is as good as mine."

"I don’t… what?"

"Scourge. The first I heard of it was on the news. That bus crash, the one that killed four and injured dozens more. You probably had it on camera. Me saying the word. That’s what I keep running into. When I do, I want to scream, but I’m saying no voice, I’m still not there, I’m still standing right in front of you."

"Meaning you’re in the middle of something."

"The… first I heard of it was on the news. But it’s not even a thing? People never talk about it? Invisible army you tell me multiple stories about what could have caused it and how you’re telling me one is wrong."

Tattletale started to turn away from the conversation and looked back toward the library. I didn’t see her trying to hide her face in her hands. Had

======== SAMPLE 20 ========
’s just a thought, he’s capable of so much without it being a thought. That’s something that his power lends a sense of gravitas to."

"A hell of a lot of power, when you can’t see it…" Shadow Stalker glanced over one shoulder to double-check.

"The gist of it is that he’s got a weakness. That’s why you can’t fight him directly. You have to fight him outside of battle, a long, hard fight. He can sense everything, he knows your movements and timing, and he a–kills you on the spot if he thinks you’re outside of his reach."

I blinked a little in amazement at how well Shadow Stalker was piecing together the situation. This was the guy who had, when we’d captured her teammate, beenhead and holed up in a shed in Decemblizon, going by clues that the local farmers had dropped off the face of the planet. At the time we’d taken her, she’d been wearing a transparent van that they’d blessed with a flat windshield. Apparently the van hadn’t been a hit-and-run or a hideout.

At the very least, we’d evaded the risk of him killing her.

"I… sort of hoped that Shadow Stalker would use her power on me," I answered, "And if she has some silly idea abouttook me on, it’s right that I take up that torch with fire behind it."

"Don’t t think I don’t know what you’re trying to say."

"There is no such thing as silly ideas. Stipulate. You don’tget taken seriously. Enough said."

"Don’t T believe me," she said.

"That’s all?"

"No need to keep a charade going, now. We come out ahead in the end. Maybe we even save the world."

"Maybe," she said. "It’s not that easy."

A thought struck home. The moment I stopped paying attention to her, Shadow Stalker wheeled on me, spat for half a minute at my face, before gathering herself together, standing straight, taller than I was.

She tapped my hand for a message. Across the whole of her, her green and black costume flaunted a trace of an eye that only partially covered her wide-brimmed golden nose. Only two of the tendrils at the base of each horn had bitten away to join the rest of her body. The entrance to the chest she rotated in a zig-zagging pattern that seemed to express her personality, pulsing with life and motion, while the rest of her snaked up and around my wrist, ending in a corkscrew blade of metal.

"Message from Shadow Stalker," I spoke as much to Tattletale as to her.

Tattletale tapped a finger against the tip of her nose. "That was the point when I realized that maybe she got the hint. She was trying to fuck with us before the Full Frontal mess. Arguably the worst excuse in the world, and she collateralized a lot of our worst moments during her time as Brainstorm. Itwas probably a combination of how she wanted to fuck with us and how she felt about having Kate absent in her life."

"It’s not a long-term absence," I said. "Or a Kate absence. It’s… not going to be the same without her."

"Doesn’t make sense, what you’re describing. What happened between her and me?"

"Worst day, in the long run. Worse than even the days she lost to the Endbringer. But at the same time, she had an outlook, and she looked at options that weren’t combat. She wanted to see what happenedafter five or ten years. That’s not going to be a combat situation, even after she got her powers. She picked this as the number one priority. There weren’t a lot of good ones, and there won’t be a lot of combat situations after five or ten years, but she looked at it and she chose life. And if there was a chance to get back together, if she could get someone to use their power on her, well, there was no reason not to."

"So you can forget me", she mused. "I don’t even stick around to-"

"No. I’ll even let you think about me now, after I’ve been discarded like that. It doesn’t change anything, but I�

======== SAMPLE 21 ========
’s so simple. Simple heroes triumph, simple villains ruin it all."

Her voice, so quiet it was almost quietic, "Diversity. It’s the most beautiful thing in the world. The most dangerous thing in the world. More problems, more struggles, and it makes us all that much more fucked if we don’t include-"

"No," she interrupted. Even she knew this would work. She’d predicted it would be her — her voice so calm and collected it was terrifying. The chaos would be her.

"Skitter," Grue started.

"Falling head over heels for safety," Parian muttered. "Why did you even ask? I can handle this. I’ll be safer."

"You will not be safer," Grue told her. "You were perfectly calm when you talked to me last night. I know you were thinking it, that you wanted to keep things quiet, keep everything private, but that is not the case. I have found that those two goals are not mutually exclusive. If you are wondering why I’m calling you Skitter, it’s because I have another cape that needs your help. I just need you to look me in the eye, answer the question, and I’ll show you that I’m in this costume from now on."

"Why do I need your help?" Parian asked. "I don’t care what I become."

"I don’t know. But I assure you, if I’m in a place where I can’t be useful, I’m going to turn to my friend, the Undersiders. If it comes down to it, I’ll go with my other half."

"Your other half?"

"Your body, as shown in the images. I call it life. You can’t manipulate it. You can’t take away my other body. It’s something that has to stay with me until I use it."

"Isn’t that handy?" Grue asked.

"You become the body," Parian said.

"Hm?"

"I don’t think so," Grue said, "But I could use my power, and I’ll get the full story from you, but that’s not what I’m about to do."

"Not personal," Parian said. "Reputation’s short-term, and it’s vassal. I’m not going to make a fool of myself, and let bugs get onto me for that. Let’s not make a fool of ourselves on that front."

"You," Grue pejoratively referred to her, "Are Shatterbird’s real target?"

"We cooperate. Everything goes through her. Everything serves her interest."

I didn’t like the implication, but I didn’t argue the point.

"You’d be doing us a disservice if you dragged me into that," Parian said.

"I don’t know," I said, "We’re not obligated to help you, even with my team there. I’m trusting you to control your own destiny."

"Of course," she said, "And I don’t want you to port me to another cape. It gives me a steady supply of foreign capes, but it could become another black mark in the record. We don’t want that."

"It breaks me that you want to achieve some sort of foreign cape via blood ties."

"I do," she said. She glanced up at Sanguine. "I don’t want to be the foreign capes, but I don’t want to be a slave. Let me achieve what I can against an opponent of mine, and maybe I’ll be more amenable to changes where I can see the path to victory."

"Ah," I said. I couldn’t help but notice how she didn’t seem to have any problems pandering to power in general.

Which was a very good thing.

"If you do what we want and see the end of the world as a welcome break in that inequality, I can help see that society turns around and utters salvos of retribution. Worldwars. It’s what’s left of it."

"I can’t exactly get my feelings on that."

"It’s philosophy," I said. "It’s not science. But there’s only a small few paths to take, if we’re going to get far this fast.

======== SAMPLE 22 ========
’s hands. The man had taken off his mask.

I wasn’t entirely sure what to say. A few things had been said in the last few minutes that hadn’t been kind or friendly. Words of encouragement? Rest in peace, little brother? I couldn’t muster an answer.

So I took a deep breath. I didn’t want to say ‘we’ lost because of Lisa’s powers, or ‘we’ needed her to win’ or ‘we’ couldn’t have won’. I didn’t want those grimmest people on the planet to hear me say that, to call me and tell me they had made this much of an impression. My dad and I wouldn’t have won anyways, the argument went, and we needed to turn it around and talk about what we had meant in the end.

I took a deep breath.

I breathed a sigh of relief. I hadn’t wanted to say goodbye like this, hadn’t wanted to press the button and give the order, but this was as much a goodbye as I’d had in the twelve years I’d spent doing nothing but stand by and watch.

"Hey," I said, using my swarm to create several impersonal voices, "Let me out."

None of the others responded. I felt weirdly calm, thanks to my power, and Tattletale was floating off somewhere, all on her own. I spoke as if I could let myself talk, and she followed my suggestions, pulling herself together a little more.

"There’re troops going in, apparently. Big guns. Major arms dealers in the area. Owning out just a little, apparently. Surplus contraband, which they’re using to line their own pockets. It’s going to get pretty thin at this precinct, I think. We don’t know what they’re doing, what they’re predicting. Big place, too, there’s apparently a meth lab, heroin, fentanyl, scopolamine… I can’t even remember the last good case report on this one yet."

I said. "I’m not trying to suggest you worry. I’m saying there’s always concerns. Eater of two lunches shared by two students in a physiology text said that his classmates automatically assumed he was a weakling when they saw him in the class. There’s always going to be someone trying to protect their territory, YA characters or otherwise. To those ends, there’s always going to be people looking to exploit loopholes or fuck with you. The first reliably negative encounter is going to be when you step into the public sphere, where people filter better, people are better informed. Capes who are trying to take advantage of that filter start to notice that they can mess with you if things get too public. Or the filter is too firm, and people aren’t going to notice any further distortions. Campus becomes a dangerous place."

I nodded.

"It’s inevitable. The problem with being inevitable is that it puts things in a place where everyone would inevitably do something fucked up in a less predictable way. I sort of chuckled about that when I looked at what was actually happening. Stuff was being done to me that I would never have found out if someone had a grudge against me or if I had powers. Or both. The lesson? There’s no absolute right or wrong, only places where we have to take the hard, road less traveled."

"Thoughts?"

"About doing something again?"

"About the Undersiders or the Protectorate?"

"Both. I’m thinking it’s about the latter. What if I approached you, offered my services for free, as a loyal soldier, as a friend, something?"

"What services?"

"I’ll show you what I’ve got in mind, and we can maybe set you up with a less stressful position."

"I don’t want to go back to my mom and dad."

"They’ve faced a hell of a lot worse. They deserve to live, and you, Brian, if you want to, they’ll accept."

I saw Tattletale stiffen.

"They deserve to live," she said, and there was a note of hope in her voice. "Whatever happens, you can take Brian as a friend, and you can ask him to stay. The world won’t end tomorrow, but maybe it’ll get you through this."

I shook my head a little. "That’s not what I’m doing."

"It

======== SAMPLE 23 ========
’re going around?"

"The way it was laid out, you weren’t supposed to cross paths with me. Which means I’m missing out."

"I’ll have to see this to verify it."

"I’ll come," I vowed.

Forrest made a pained face as he looked at Scion and the others.

When he spoke, it was measured, "I’d suggest we make a counter-offer. Her response and documentation on the trip to the north pole are going to be very revealing."

"Very revealing," Exalt commented.

"Tell me they’re good byes," I said. I made sure to say ‘pay what you would’.

Cody walked over to offer cashiering. Forrest shook his head, "No."

"No? So you won’t help?"

"I won’t screw it up."

We went to collect the bills. Exalt took the lead, and Cody followed, paying with bars of gold.

When the men presenting themselves at the gates had collected their items, we told them we were ready to depart the same instant the moneyNET box was opened.

They led the way out of the city, with one group parting to go around the side of the tallest building in the area, then loped to a place near the water that had a view of the city.

I looked over at our accommodation. We had an area, sure, but it was miles from a beach. On a balmy day like today, that was both refreshing and extremely welcome.

"So, let’s go laundry and get our stuff in order, then we’ll go meet some of the heroes before we tag along?"

"That sounds like a bad idea," I said.

"That so?" Your mother?

"A little much," I admitted. "And it’s a mess."

"Doesn’t have to be."

"If you’re not 100% sorted, then either don’t go, or go with someone else."

You are so frailer.

"What do you have for breakfast?" I asked, as we settled down. "Coffee will do."

"Better late than sooner."

"And don’t forget your place is a shelter, sheltered by orders of the PRT. As such, you don’t have many options when it comes to what you put in the computer."

"Pace yourself," I said, as the rest of us Dr. Web filtered out.

"Pace yourself, I mean."

"You know my methodology."

"I’m an expert in this department."

"Still a rookie."

"I’m trying to teach you how to code. I can’t have rookies slip the basics."

You aren’t a rookie, but you’re new.

"I was."

"I’m thoroughly satisfied where I’m at."

We had Jeremy, I thought. Watching him make his way from a one-handed grip on the steel hookah to wielding the laptop, it was neat. It added a new element to the game, a heartbeat over and over again, always ready to make a splash, to excite.

It wouldn’t amount to much, but there was a kind of beauty in that. There were moments where you could look at people and you could wonder, All of a sudden, I’m not sure I’m not in the right mindset.

We were closing the miles of packed concrete walls around my territory as the four of them streamed into my cell. Grue departed in the truck, and I was forced to walk the circuit of walls and concrete pillars that topped a partially renovated building.

Dragon’s hands were on the armor of my shoulder, my best chance of preventing me from pulling something. I resisted the urge to, giving her another chance to do so. She didn’t get any help holding on, but she did have two points of contact: one on each side of my neck with my fingers, where she could keep my chin up and my hand from pulling. Her feet were in my lap, her head between my shoulder blades.

A different sort of bondage. An animal head on a chain, strung with a whirring sound that rose and fell like a bird’s song.

"Where do we go from here?" I asked. I glanced at Bitch. "You follow us?"

"Apparently not."

Was it a bluff? "Excellent. I don’t like where we

======== SAMPLE 24 ========
’ll do it without the benefit of your help. All I’m saying, all I’m asking, is that you should be a part of this. The more funding we raise, the better equipped we are to tackle future crises. With your continued support, I can assure you, I can meet future demands with future funds. With your cooperation and backing, I can expand this into an extended disaster relief effort."

"Replacement teams?" Cuff asked.

"You’ll have them. I have three teams existing with varying degrees of capacity, and I will recruit you to each of them. Every step of the way, we’re eliminating redundancy. You’ll have additional teams in reserve as circumstances require."

"And the end of the world?" Tieu leaned back, "Does that mean we’re going to die?"

"The end of the world is still possible. With the right planning, patience and cooperation, a force can be kept back from occurring. Earth Aleph is going to be the test case. They have the required powers, organization and technology to succeed, but they aren’t well distributed. They have a Yuendum with the power to turn matter into isoedible rock, but only a little in terms of mass. If they are able to establish normal life again, I can assure you they’ll set their new world on fire, and they’ll do it without our interference."

"And we won’t have any hand in stopping them?" Tieu shook his head.

"With the preparations you made, I know you’ll make an extra effort. You’ll work multiple tasks, and you’ll ensure that whatever you do, you’re contributing something. That extra precaution you told me about? It’s what you had in mind when you backed Cadence and Burnscar. Investigate circumstances, find the culprit, and bring them to justice."

"Mmm," Cuff talked, her voice soft.

Diana answered immediately, "The problem with that is that it’d be a slippery thing. You said they recruited people from among people who could use the virus. Can you find the real them? Who aren’t already in custody?"

"I can’t say that for sure. My suspects were… colorful."

"They’re aliens?" Alan asked.

Diana shook her head. "His name is Irving Rosenbaum. His powers aren’t human. They’re exotic, but they’re not our world. We know he came to our world in the early days, just before our world was up and running again. He’s the reason your fancy cell phone was so useful. He’s also the reason there aren’t any cameras in this building."

"You’re sure?"

"It’s complicated, but he’s just an extraordinary young man. And he’s on a strict diet. If he hasn’t fixed himself up, he hasn’t groomed himself, given himself enough exercise. I don’t see how he’d get something exotic and worth calling a talent."

Alan nodded. "Good article, that’s a good start."

He opened a drawer and grabbed a notebook. With the way he held it, it didn’t look like anything had gone through the fire exit.

"This is perhaps something that will require some imagination and experimentation. We watch the news. The international community gears up to punish the criminals who turned on the light. One of the criminals caught in the crossfire is… Irving Rosenbaum."

Irony.

"Cameras… if he can be classified as a cameraman, and there’s no ace in the hole, I don’t see how he could be a translator."

Credo.

"Good article. Rosenbaum is one of the best known superheroes in the world, and has the distinction of being the first and only case of his kind to receive a branding. There have been forty-six in the last ten years, and there are expected to be a hundred in the next five years, with a final authorization this Tuesday from the United Nations."

Alan nodded. "Do you know why?"

"Rosenbaum is a master manipulator. He can contrive adversarial situations to his advantage. One of his first partnerships was with me. Ten years ago, he sponsored me and my team through a sponsorship deal. I worked for him for a short time and then after-partner relationship ended, he offered me a leadership role in his alliance with the Fantastic Four. I declined."

"What is your relationship with the team than?"

"More

======== SAMPLE 25 ========
’re not in a position to say," he lied. It wasn’t just him lying; there was an assumption there, something about the way he was dressed, his tone.

"The rest of you?" Grue asked the smaller man. He still had his helmet on, but his hood and shoulders were exposed.

He’ll look like shit if I show up in costume like that, Alex realized.

"Okay," Coil spoke. His voice had a strange texture to it. "The rest of you, come here. We’ll let the elders have word from their elders before we open up this city to business. Chances are good that we’ll be in a remote area or on a mountain, surrounded by tribal members. If you’re not visiting head honchos or something of the like, that’s okay. We can talk in-depth about what’s going on, share intel on who our enemies are, and what we might do in the event of an emergency."

Alexandria had to bite her tongue to keep from saying something that sounded like, ‘I don’t care’.

Her mind was still a little injured, having just dislocated her shoulder, after the fact. She could entertain an argument, but she couldn’t answer any further.

"What’s going on?" Grue asked.

"Need to ask," Coil said.

Grue didn’t speak for long seconds. "What could I do? Could I help you?"

"You could? I couldn’t really tell you, since I’m not in a position to be the guy to stand up for you, in case Dinah drops dead, or if you guys get killed in action, or if Tattletale fucks up your group, or whatever."

Alexandria had corrected her position. "I could tell you some things. Specific things. Specific events."

"And you didn’t tell me?"

"No. I tried to warn you, but you were distracted by the new guy. I might try informing you in a more specific way, but it’s possible your squad dislikes me because of some specific policy or because I’m Coil, and they wouldn’t believe me if I tried to warn them about your less obvious motives."

"Doesn’t seem that in the grand scheme of things, what Dinah said helping Noelle."

"It does. But the thing I wanted to emphasize was that I’m serious. You’re not stupid, and you know there’s more to this. Let’s wait until you actually face the situation to find out."

Alexandria didn’t reply.

Grue spoke, "The Undersiders dislikes me because I’m not stupid, and they won’t be intimidated by the facts. The fact that I helped Noelle, that I have a bead on them."

"Disgusting, disgusting gossip."

"Truth is, they’re worse than that. Noelle’s probably going to do some pretty fucked up things someday, and there’s absolutely going to be a high risk that she does it as an innocent high-achiever, then runs off to some alternate universe where she’s some kind of incredible badass, and she gets stuck there for a decade or two. The reality is though, they’ve killed more high-achievers in the course of their existence than they’ve ever had the misfortune to deal with. You or I could probably make that shot at becoming an Avenger or something, but it’d take a lot more guts."

"You’re all so full of yourself."

All of us, he thought. Excepting Krouse, Noelle, Marissa and Oliver, each of whom had different body types and builds. For Krouse, it was different body parts that he looked at differently. For Noelle it was the chest/bodies, for Marissa it was her arms. He couldn’t even guess if it was a work of fiction or if it was reality.

He stayed in the shadow state for long seconds, until he could be sure he was clear. He turned his head to look at Trickster, and there was a massive burst of pain as he saw the snarling face of the young villain.

He flared a small, blue-black energy, and there was a stunning, insane explosion of dust and an ear-shattering crash, the sneering sound of a gunshot striking cement.

Trickster went down, his wind-powered legs and feet giving him as little as he could through the shattered concrete.

There was a

======== SAMPLE 26 ========
’t do a lot to help him, but I was counting on him.

We stopped at an old church with boards up where there had been the poles for the rafters, fences brimming with artificial flowers, pastel colors painting a gorgeous vista as we looked at the entirety of the place. It had been a short trip, lasting under three minutes, as we had to stop briefly to fill a pitfallless gorge with half a mile of tunnel.

Once we were in the tunnel, we were free to move. Acid rain stirred up the water and made the ascent rather harder. I opted to climb as far as I was able on my own two feet, using arms that were as thick around as a board of toilet paper. It wasn’t perfect, it left me a touch sore as I moved, but it let me find the top of the pitfallless wall. I walked, humored by the guys down at the platform, hoping to boost my morale. I didn’t get far before the rain stopped, and we were dry. I recited the words to myself as I tied my wet hair back in its place.

Time to relax and build up my reserves.

We reached a nondescript part of the city. It wasn’t the kind of location that produced movies or television shows. If there was a theater that had screen doors and a beautiful mural depicting horses galloping across the screen, I didn’t know what it would be like. It didn’t help that the entire place was dark, with nondescript cabins with one to three bunk beds and one stall. I knocked on the cabin door and River started giggling so hard she had to cough.

"Let’s scram," I said, "If it’s a marathon, a triathlon or something equally bizarre, such as it might be, we can just say no, build up some stamina and we run straight through."

"That’s stupid," River said. "You want to spend the time passing out while we hash out the problem?"

"The time we have available," I replied, "Not so much."

"Not so much."

I looked down at the wall map. "There’re two ways this could play out. Either we’re going to get crushed by an international coalition led by the good guys, repelled and braver than we’ve been recently by the likes of the Yakuza, Empire, The Confederation or the Birdcage, or we’re going to get to a point where we can make a run for it. I’m not just saying that because I like that scenario, but because I expect it’ll likely happen. I mentioned the lack of preparation in the past. As far as Alexandria goes, well, good fortune was with us the second time around."

"Met all those criteria," River said.

"See, I think I mentioned it to you once, but I’m being brutally honest. If you’re going to call me a ruthless competitor, then I’m going to remind you I recently took down a Yakuza member who was as big as a train station. I have the marks of my attacks on film. If there’s any dishonesty, it’s in the details I won’t pass on to you. I won’t mention the numerous battles I’ve fought where I stopped being so decisive. I won’t tell you how many enemies I’ve taken down, or the number of heroes I’ve fought who tried to stop me, but I think you’ll look at my results and wonder what motivated these people."

He could see the furrow in the corner of her eye, where she was looking.

"If you’re still interested, there’s one last thing I want to talk about before we part ways. Before I go, I want you to know that I recently stepped down from my position as Head of the PRT. I decided it was time to focus on my family, give them a chance to be together again. When I said I was done, they told me they needed me to be stronger, to keep the peace. IINERT them, or make them leave, and they did. Because being alone is uncomfortable, and so are they. I’ve since found other ways to make life miserable on my own. And when they’re feeling abandoned, or they feel like they’re being pushed to the edge, it’s when I step in."

He couldn’t help but let the realization cross his mind that he’d intended to stay behind, out of sight.

"I can’t brook any of that," she said, "

======== SAMPLE 27 ========
’re a good guy?"

He was the right answer, at least. I didn’t have any tricks up my sleeve. No, I would be playing into Coil’s hands, if I let him get in the way.

"And the wrong decisions," he went on, sounding irritated. "I’m willing to trust you, though I’ve watched you for a long time."

"Watching you is a very bad idea," I replied, "Especially now, as the situation here is critical."

"Do you know how unstable the PRT has become?" he asked. He sounded just a little shocked.

"Lost in a world where superheroes are supposedly unstoppable, a crusading heartlands the size of France are in chaos, a passing thought passes, and it’s just an order a administration error away from disaster," I said.

"It’s dangerous. Complex systems, vast numbers of people with specialized training and knowledge want to have their hands on the systems, to have things hacked and misplaced. They have no experience with people and things, and when things go wrong, it’s a nightmare. It rages, rumbles and changes, and it’s a danger that’s always with us."

"And the wrong beliefs?" he asked.

"It doesn’t matter," I said. "One way or another, people and superhero worship have taken root, and they’re not going to sit still. Every day, someone young and capable looking to the superhero community for guidance finds a new set of eyes to apply that guidance to their problems. We’re not going to sit around, accepting that others are in a similar situation, and we’re certainly not willing to die to address that situation. Our focus is where we’ve got the biggest, most obvious, most immediate problems – with the locals, with you, or the local heroes and villains."

He stayed silent.

"An educated guess is that you caught on to what Coil was doing, you helped him, and you made a deal that puts your life and potentially your life on the line."

"I like that analogy," his voice was quiet, in contrast to the enthusiasm he had been suppressing. Probably not a good idea to have a conversation with a masked man.

"Let’s wait until we’re both more experienced, before I get on that subject again. The –er, the –ers, the seasoned capes, they do have the same responsibilities. But the new graduates just turned twenty-five, they have different responsibilities. They’ve had several decades to study the job duties of the professionals, to counsel the powerless, help the weak and the innocent. You two are still in the process of learning. Capes and non-capes to assist you in your duties. I’m afraid I’d have to ask your notarized permission before I could formally make you two my friends."

"No thanks," Brian said, before he could pull himself to his feet and stalk away.

"I can tell you who my other friends are. Two are warlords, lords of their respective cities. They’ve very politely requested that I not interfere in their personal lives. Which I’ll gladly allow."

"No funny surprises," Echidna reminded her.

Alec spoke up, "We could, if it’s for your sake, of course. We’ve got other allies and enemies we’re handling."

"And enemies we’re dealing with," Brian agreed. He turned to Echidna, "In a way, she reminds me of me. She was just a child, and I was the ruler of Brockton Bay for nearly a decade. Both of us went to the same prep school, Techno-Elite… I attended the same school as you did. Found Tattletale on the computer. She mentions that the reason she can’t talk about the Undersiders is because they invited themselves. No way you guys aren’t a part of that."

"Hard to believe," Tattletale said.

"It’s surprisingly neat to hear you names for the first time," Brian said, "I’m almost surprised that you aren’t more talked about. Echidna?"

Echidna snarled, and it was clear from the emotion in her voice that she knew it was bad form. I’d sooner believe Skitter than anyone on this Earth.

"She’s a porcine thing," Tattletale said. "Rotten to the core."

"How do you know this?" Alec asked.

She’s been using her power, apparently. Or her

======== SAMPLE 28 ========
’s just a question of time."

"I have a question for her, though," Grue answered. "Who the fuck is Coil?"

Coil turned, "You’re the stupidest member of this team."

"Another question, Grue," Tattletale supplied. "What the hell happened with Panacea?"

"She’s fine."

"Her?" Coil turned, "Why?"

"I’m betting it had something to do with the portal the Slaughterhouse Nine used. Bet on the right answer."

He was already out of the chair. Bitch, I think? Without looking at her, I hopped down from the table. I scratched Judas’ snout and stuck my hands in my pockets for a better grip. The dog hopped up from the bench to put himself between me and Coil.

He didn’t say a word. "Well, bugs are answers. Let’s go find the Nine."

Judas headed for the door while I followed with my eyes, trying to look as nonchalant as possible.

Coil opened the doorways, "Did you know about this? You hardly have to part with her."

I could see the suppressed chaos and serenity I’d thought I’d glimpsed. The dogs weren’t barking or doubling over, but the pupils were dilated, and the dog with the massive spike on its shoulder was gesturing. One hand dangled, paralyzed at the base of the door.

I’d raised the idea ofcills with them before, but I’d always thought it was better to ask the question at the conclusion of the discussion. I had to bite my tongue here, too, unless I was going to get in trouble. This was a dangerous game of political correctness and the portrayal of power in media, and the absurd didn’t factor into it. I just wanted to make as invisible a front as I could.

The statement had almost hit me before I could stop myself. Coil losing control of his minions… Was that the kind of thing he would be worried about? Representing Dinah’s side?

"She’s fine," I said, "She was talking to the girl with the spikes. I would love to get in touch with her and talk with her, find out where Panacea is. I can help look after the wounded."

My driver, ratting me out like that, while I was on the phone with Dinah? It wasn’t sound, not in terms of an arrangement like that. Not when he was threatening to do something to me.

"You’re quiet," he said. I was relieved that the threat was concrete.

"Ms. Yamada is voicemail in when I need to reach her for questions. She’s reluctant to answer questions about where Skitter is, but she’ll tell me where to find Panacea."

"Where?"

"There’s a car park or something near the train station. I’ll find it. I don’t know how long it’ll take. Can you find me?"

"It won’t be quick, but I can check my phone every fifteen minutes."

"You can’t."

"I will. Alright."

I hung up.

I stood from the chair, then bent down to get the damp panties I’d been using as a scrub brush. I wiped them on the back of my hands and forehead, then ran each between my fingers to clean them again.

I ran another finger along the top of Panacea’s chin.

"Thank you, Tattletale," Coil said. It was a hard thing for him to say, with the inflection and hesitation that accompanied it.

A touch too forceful, too general, but it made me think of ‘dog’, rather than ‘I love you’.

It had been too long since I felt like I belonged somewhere. It was only in the last few days that I’d started to come to terms with the fact that I wouldn’t be leaving home, and that I’d probably lost touch with everyone I’d come to know and love. My territory had become a haven, instead, for people who had lost homes, or who had fled their homes to escape the violence of the current reign. It wasn’t a safe haven, but people there had protected me, or someone who could.

Someone who could do something about the corruption that was sick, or the threats the rot poses, if we didn’t act decisively.

Obediently, I headed over to the other

======== SAMPLE 29 ========
’s an adult. He thought of it as an unpracticed thing to be putting together a makeshift costume for his team. Putting together a costume for himself, with the idea that he’d be back for the holidays.

That night, he’d reread the scarier parts of the journal. The sections that seemed pretty clear cut had been marked with arrows and dots. At one point, there were even, what appeared to be, entire pages dedicated to outlining various ways he could inflict permanent injury or death.

He bit into his steak and finished it, then sat down by Victoria, who was still wracking with pain from her tourniquet.

"You alright?" he asked.

"Little worse for wear."

"Learned some new moves, huh?"

"I’ve been waiting for the fight to start."

"Okie dokie," he said. Then, in a more normal voice, he commented, "We should get a medic together. Decentralize isn’t working out."

"I would be happy to," she said.

"You would?" He nodded, smiled. "Take the dogs? Sure. We’ll split up and look after each of the wounded, look after the cars. And I’ll get Will ready for when the medics and heroes come back. Not sure how long this is going to take. Shit, we could get ourselves killed, there’s nothing holding us together as a group. Split up, let the medics and heroes pull people together?"

She shook her head. "Not without the other three verify."

He nodded. "Let me know when she’s done."

Will arrive before I’m through the door, I thought.

"sucks to leave team mates for dead," Will grumbled.

Will gives me hell, I thought. Sharing stories of nobler fates.

"We’re stronger," she said. "Don’t let it be said that we can’t find our feet. Don’t let tragedy distract you from how fucking stupid we are. Even if we can’t go out with a win, fuck it, we’re going to kill you all if we have to."

I could sense the way. I expected nothing less, that the Nine would go this far. The fact that I had the ability to see the route the bullet would take, at that juncture, suggested something.

I could not tell why they hadn’t gone ahead, but I suspected it had more to do with the fact that Will had broken ties with the Protectorate, and that Bonesaw had other information she wanted to cover.

I could sense the way. I could see the path the bullet would take. Even with my bug’s senses, I could see the path the bullet would take.

The door closed. I was so busy tracking how and where the entity was taking Will’s route that I almost didn’t hear it close behind us.





Colony 15.2


We hadn’t started yet. I could feel Will taking his route. He’d left the escalators unguarded, the stairs to his right. This was a corridor, twowalks divided by two moving trains, one to each of Will’s arms.

I could see how he’d divided the corridor. Two moving trains, dividing his partner from him.

I could see the second moving train, also divided by two tracks. It was a long, serpentine train, going almost straight down the tunnel as it headed to the platform whereSPECTRE was. I could see the other train, terminating at the same train, approaching Will and giving me a sense of its direction.

I walked alongside Will, giving him my shoulder and eye contact. He was averse to talking, his words filtered through the mechanized voicebox of his mask, but he offered me his hand and said goodby. I took it. Our chapter on the sport was headed by the more powerful member of the Crawler’s team; Trickster. I grabbed Gully’s leash, and we hurried off, herding the dogs under one arm.

There was a roar, and the other dogs joined in. It shook the tunnel, and waves topped off the waves that were rising above the platform. I couldn’t get a good look at the proceedings with my eyes, but the water that was rising from the broken tunnel looked eerily like rain.

The leading figures of the defending side rose from their seats as SPECTRE made his approach. His crimson costume was soaked through, to the point that dark brown stains covered his chest, shoulders and knees. He

======== SAMPLE 30 ========
’t. In a time of crisis, I’d pull strings to bring others on board, people who were versatile, versatile in how they could be. There were capes who were both thinkers and artists, others who were writers and thinkers, still others who fit in more the category of the traders than the artists or writers. Everyone had their role, and it wasn’t just sitting at home, passively dispassionate.

The downside of that was that it forced us to ignore some of the best abilities of our enemies. We couldn’t ignore the fact that the Merchants could switch their people around like candy, or that they could fashion improvised weapons like the pipe bombs they were today.

It made us less steady as a group, less solid as a alliance.

I couldn’t do anything about it. I contacted Chevalier, pointing him to what I was looking at.

■

Atlas carried me into the alley, where the interior was lined with storefronts and tiny homes. I kept moving away from that downtown area, away from my territory, where things would be easier. More trips to the hospital, police officers and PRT vans, everyone traveling with a bag or a cart for comfort and convenience. Walking affected me in ways that one might think of a heavy load would: I didn’t feel steady, sure, even when I was balanced on top of a single limb.

Every step brought me closer to the lake, farther from my home. I’d taken the time to study the weather data, and I could deduce that the day’s forecasted sunshine was mostly going to be on the positive side of the ‘sea’. Based on that, I’d made an educated guess that the low lying areas of the city would see upwards of twenty minutes of sunshine. With the high number of people here – ninety-five percent of our territory was occupied, and we had not one, not two, but THREE enemies across from us – I’d figured we would get along, and that figured would continue to be the case as we spread out and avoided being trapped in a single room with someone.

Spiders, of course, were another matter.

Spiders were slow. Twenty or thirty spiders jammed into an empty web 3/8 of a mile away, and they managed to stick there. That limit meant that when a slow moving spider thread slipped between your fingers and the web 3/8 of a mile away, you barely knew it was there. If two or three quick movement events occurred while your swarm was within two-thirds of a mile of the thread, it was almost certain to slip out. You didn’t want to encounter any opponents while you were en route to your destination.

Any webs I created at that distance were subtle, difficult to see, and were more likely to be accidentally disorienting or confusing than to become harmful or critical.

Making a connection cost you a bundle of power, a loss of half your power, at most. If you didn’t create the relay in time, it would become a fateful mistake, putting you in Ben’jamin’s horrible position, losing you half your power. If it was a close shave, either you or your passenger might suffer injury or permanent brain damage.

If you didn’t have the time or ability to pause and consider the ramifications of a single lost use of your power, or the cascade of consequences that happened when you did use it, you could never hope to recover. You killed yourself.

If you did recover, you might well try to suppress your ability to think in a crisis – to be aware of your surroundings, of what was going on – and wait for the appropriate moment.

If you couldn’t, you’d suffer permanent brain damage. If you could, you’d suffer permanent physiological changes. Even if you could partially recover, you’d still be liable to suffer further damage to your body and mind the moment the next round of tests and reviews caught on to the full truth.

So you pled innocent while suffering for your lack of a better response.

You said you were a reluctant participant, but that you’d had your reasons. You said you’d consciously considered your options, and that you’d had the time to think this through. You said you had in fact purchased the rights to Cherish, thus clearing your name and making it clear you weren’t wanting to participate in this plot.

Well, you’ve chosen to stand by your word.



So what are you going to do?

You can’t make sense of this. You’re not Batman, you’re not Superman. You’re not even something close to the human being. You’re something of