Web of the Weaver: Interlude 1, Consequences.

“And we found…” Emily Piggot wondered briefly if God would ever answer her prayers.

But no rampaging E88 cape had forced the meeting to be cancelled.

“Phone logs between the three, at least two caches on school grounds, and a confession from Madison Clements,” the legal officer answered. He gestured to Armsmaster. “The caches…”

“Were emplaced in regions that could not be reached by merely physical methods.” Armsmaster said. “However, they were easy enough to find, once I decided to search for them. Shadow Stalker did not consider that a deliberate search might be initiated.”

“Of course not. If she’d been capable of that kind of forethought she might not have joined in on bullying a fellow student.” It wasn’t the worst thing she’d ever seen, not by a long shot. There was a reason why soldiers and law enforcement generally didn’t tell their stories at the dinner table. But it was still unpleasant and the duration…

“And no signs of deliberate malfeasance.” Emily said. “I find that surprising.”

“Er…” The legal officer shook his head. “Nothing… actionable. I’ve been closeted with the DA over this, and the problem is that no student provided clearevidence that the three were involved and of course, Ms. Hebert was hysterical and had accused the other students of bullying before—accusations that we now know were true, but the school administration chose to use that to argue that she was taking out her misfortune on them…” Sarcasm entered his voice. “Leaving someone who could ram a girl into a locker full of tampons free to wander about with nobody noticing. I guess Nice Guy had a kid.”

“And the police…”

“Were dealing with a bad week. Three racially motivated killings, that little festival of Skidmark’s and the need to run security for the Cherry Festival in Little Japan.” Armsmaster shook his head. “Given Lung’s threats of what would happen if the E88 disrupted it, I can understand why the police and DA chose to drop what was in the greater scope of things, a relatively minor event.”

Emily winced and reminded herself why Colin was never left unattended for interviews.

“Sophia is gone. We haven’t yet decided where she’s going, but the choice between a containment zone and Camp 12 is still up in the air. I’m pushing for Camp 12.” She glanced down at the memo she’d typed up to that effect. Maybe Alexandria and her pet project could straighten her out, but Sophia Hess would hopefully no longer be an issue to trouble the Bay.

“Her powers could be useful in a containment zone…” Armsmaster murmured.

“Except for the minor fact that she lies. And no matter how closely she’s supervised there’s always the danger that she could cover her ass once again, and say, lie about something getting out.” Emily shook her head. “Sophia seemed to think that she was only up for a year, at most, if she broke her probation and forgot that she’s still a minor. Her mother has transferred custody to the PRT, so wherever she is, it’ll be until she’s 18, which solves the problem of turning this into a media circus. Better yet, the statute of limitations won’t run out by the time she’s 18, so if she knows what is good for her, she’ll play ball so we don’t decide to charge her.”

“And the Heberts?”

The Attorney answered Colin. “We’ve put pressure on the school systems, and they’re going to inform them that now that this terrible information has come to light, the old agreement is null and void, and they won’t fight a new settlement, within reason. As for Shadow Stalker…”

“We will inform Mr. Hebert, not Taylor Hebert,” Emily said. “He’s an adult, so we can hit him with the NDA’s and explain why we don’t want to risk the Empire “Avenging” Taylor Hebert by murdering members of Sophia’s family. I’m hoping he’ll accept a transfer of Sophia’s college fund to Ms. Hebert, along with further medical care, should she need it.” Less than a lawsuit might give him, but hopefully they’ll go for it. If the Empire gets a hold of this information… “Lastly, Armsmaster, what about our new parahuman?”

“I am not certain if they are a Parahuman. From Sophia’s description, they displayed no powers, save for an ability to track her, but…” The hero shook his head. “Sophia has never been the most tactically inclined ward, and if someone had arrived there early, scouted the location out, they might very well have been able to track her by sound alone. However, the fact that we were unable to find them or any tracks does indicate the possibility of a stranger or changer themed parahuman, but again, they could have simply been very careful covering their tracks.”

“And the card?”

“A common playing card. Just over 4,000 decks with that particular design were sold in the state over the last month. I am having Kid Win check the sales records out with an analysis program.”

“Really?”

Armsmaster paused. “His difficulty in concentration can sometimes be… partially alleviated if he is given a concrete goal and challenge. I am overseeing the work, especially since it’s very unlikely to provide actionable information. But the fact that it is official Protectorate work may assist his concentratoin. Returning to this subject, had the individual wanted to kill Sophia, they could have.”

“No, they just showed us they knew her identity, got her to issue a damming confession during what was pretty clearly a murder attempt, and then walked off after handing us a recording.” Emily shook her head. “I don’t like this. Most new parahumans, if this is what we have, tend to be loud. This wasn’t. This was both sneaky and well planned.”

“It could be a parahuman relative of one of the students.” The lawyer said. “I could…”

“No. The last thing we need to do is convince a possible parahuman we’re trying to seek them out via their family members. Especially since it’d be a pure fishing expedition.” Emily shook her head. “No. For now, we’ll stay wary, keep our eyes out, but whoever this is clearly wanted her arrested, not dead. I see no reason to risk an escalation.”

Not that we have any choice, because it’s all up to our unknown parahuman, if they are a parahuman, whether or not things escalate.

*****

Mike Thomas didn’t normally meet the mayor. But Roy had called the principal in of George Washington Junior High to ask for a favor. So far it wasn’t going well.

“Do I look like an idiot, Roy?” Mike asked.

“No, but we could use your help.” Roy Christiner massaged his forehead, staring at the phone, which was blessedly quiet.

“You could use Jesus Christ and all his angels help. Blackwell wasn’t providing proper supervision, we have at least three teachers implicated in either dealing drugs or ignoring said dealing, and the teachers who were doing their jobs have cabinets full of CYA memos about structural bullying issues, all of which were “going to be addressed” Well, they’re sure as hell being addressed right now.”  Mike pointed at the paper, talking about the recent arrests. “I don’t know who you murdered to keep the whole story quiet, but that’s not going to last.”

The Mayor sighed. “Fine. Blackwell’s gone, and we need someone who can handle the school, and who doesn’t care about pissing off the parents, gangs, or media. You know, so we can tell the news media that we are fixing it. And...”

“And?” Mike gestured. “And sounds like something worse. Did you find Jack Slash running an after school club?”

“Don’t joke. We don’t have to pay the Hebert kid’s family any more money.”

“How the hell did you manage that, and why do you look like someone shot your dog?”

“They were willing to...” Roy closed his eyes. “We have a consent decree. They’re willing to forgo further legal action, presuming action is taken to clean up Winslow. It’s a really tight consent decree.”

“And I’m the sacrificial goat. Thanks.”

“You ran with Marquis. You should be able to handle Winslow.”

Mike shook his head, running a finger along the jagged scar that pulled his expression into a lopsided grin. “I liked running a junior high. Fine. But Roy?”

“Yes?”

“Throw the Hebert Kid’s family twenty grand.”

“What? They--”

“Yeah, they gave that up. But take it from someone who, as you said, ran with Marquis, putting some weregild in the pot, especially if you’re not legally mandated to, can at least help you dig your way out of the pit you’re in.”

“Right, I’ll run it by legal. Christ, how the hell did this happen?”

Mike didn’t smile. “The school board didn’t keep watch on Blackwell, and you didn’t keep watch on them, and someone else paid for it. Time to do our jobs, Mayor.”

*****

Patricia Blackwell got into her car. The sun had gone down, and the last light of dusk was fading. The school district wasn’t going to fire her. No, she was being put into the district office, to do makework, until she retired. The only reason she wasn’t fired was that nobody wanted to draw attention to the fact that a school had been paying for repair and safety systems by using an off-books set of payments from the Wards program.

They wanted this to go away quietly, and Patricia Blackwell being shuffled off to a cubicle office where she’d be carefully ignored by everyone instead of just being fired, was the price. The district would pay it.

She—

Hello, Ms. Blackwell…

Suddenly the car was plunged into darkness as something just coated the windows, even as that voice, that… alienvoice spoke to her.

“Who—Who are you?”

“That’s not important, is it? The important thing is, how you failed this city. Didn’t you know how much bullying was going on?”

“You mean the Hebert girl? Her stories were fanciful, every time she lost her homework, every time she tripped she was blaming everyone else. Someone pushed her in the locker, but she didn’t have any evidence, just kept accusing the same three students…”

There was a pause.

“And yet, she proved to be right… You could have found that out, if you’d done some work. In fact, you might have stopped it before it escalated. You, Patricia Blackwell, are to blame for everything that happened, not just to that child, but everyone else.”

Patricia swallowed. “That’s not my job, any more.”

“On the contrary, Ms. Blackwell, it very much is. You have harmed this city. All the dreams you had walking in the doors—yes, I remember that interview, from a decade ago, they curdled along with your courage. And because of that, you have contributed to the ills of this city. And you will make payment.”

Oh, God, is he going to kill me?

“Wha…what do you want?”

“You will be working in the district office. You will have access to records. I may need information from those records, now and then, to continue my work regarding this city. You will obtain them for me.”

“But that’s… that’s illegal!”

“Are you declining my offer?”

“I… no. But when will I be done with you?”

“Ten years, Ms. Blackwell. How much damage have you done over that time? Answer that question, and you will know when our books will be even.”

“I… how will I contact you?”

“I will contact you, Ms. Blackwell, when I have need of you. Good day. You work for me, now.”

Moments later, the streetlights were once again shining through the glass. Blackwell swallowed…

And started to shiver.

Maybe being fired wasn’tthe worst thing that could happen.