Orb Weaver: Wrath of God, 4

Armsmaster let me ride on the back of his bike, somehow pulling a helmet out of a compartment far too small for it. He didn’t say much, but I noticed how stiff he was.

He is infuriated.

Why not? Armsmaster was an engineer with a half-dozen major non-tinkertech patents to his name. The idea of being… reduced like that must be uniquely horrifying to him.

While we drove, he spoke to me, the communications clear in my ear.

“I sent a request to Dragon and she has already found six examples of people who unaccountably lost skills or… certain aspects of their personality. A violin player, a doctor…” Armsmaster paused. “We’ll be having to follow up on these cases. The doctor was arrested and found guilty of negligence.”

“And nobody noticed?”

“They were scattered, with no links between each case. The violin player, for example, was believed to have suffered a panic attack at her last concert.”

“And she never played again.”

“No.”

“She was a minority, but was the doctor?”

There was a pause.

“No… How did you know?”

“A medical skill would be useful to the Empire. Something they would take from anyone, though I expect he was not an ally. But to play the violin? In addition to the fact that I can’t see the use, playing a musical instrument requires physical practice, a large amount of it. Such practice might make sense to gain a medical skill… but no, the Violin was mere malice. A master indulging himself against his “lessers.” I bit out the last term, and as we spun down the road, bugs twisted and bit. I had to remember to release them as they passed.

“There are some other cases. A year and a half ago, a college student, who evidently was gay.” There was no judgment in his voice. “He outed himself, behaving… in a very unusual manner. He was expelled for sexual harassment, and was suspected of drug use.”

“You disagree?”

“The case was never brought to my attention, as at the time, nobody assumed parahuman involvement. But… his behavior wasn’t what you would expect from a simple drug addiction. It was as if one part of his personality was excised.”

And the police would have assumed it was drugs… if they were even involved. To them, it would just be another student self-destructing.

As to why a Master would do that… Human Masters with self-control like Teacher were rare. Many of them reveled in their power, their ability to destroy the life of the girl who cut in line, the man who didn’t speak deferentially enough. Combine that with the Empire’s ideology… being a world-class violinist wouldn’t cause them to examine their assumptions, it would prove to them that an “uppity” minority needed to be put in her place.

And separated by time and space, with no direct link, they could assume they were safe. As they had been. It was sheerest chance that I had noticed what had happened to Sheila.

How did I miss this? How did I miss this? A screen appeared on my helmet, because of course it would have a data screen and Armsmaster sent me the information. Months or longer between them—both the doctor and violinist had occurred before I triggered, not that it excused me. What? Did I think crime only occurred after I triggered? I had had more than enough time to go over past crimes.

If I had, if I hadn’t been lazy… Sheila might still have a mind.

Odd… My range seemed to have increased. I could feel bugs further away.

I would have to investigate that. Later.

But when we came into range of Sheila’s apartment, I send bugs swarming into it, tasting, forming a 3D image I my—

Blood.

Old blood. But my insects could taste it. And I saw the shape the blood stains took. Crudely smeared words on the underside of a chair.

E88.

Victor.

As bugs came into my range, they went insane. It was all I could do to keep them out of sight as they tore each other to shreds.

“If this was done to these people obviously, how many may have been attacked more subtly?” I said. “Say to lose their temper at an unfortunate point?”

“We don’t know,” Armsmaster said. “The pattern… Well, as you are well aware, Master powers come in a variety of forms. Did the Master need some kind of direct connection? Mere eyesight?” Armsmaster was still rigid. “We can’t know but I’ve already ordered an initial M/S alert triggered.”

He didn’t sound happy. I could understand why. Shiela had been obvious. Lost skills were obvious. But lost inhibitions? How could you tell the difference between someone who had a bad day, and someone who… had their self-control stolen?

Had Emma been taken like that?

Almost certainly not. But the very fact that the possibility existed showed how terrifying the problem was.

And why I would have to deal with Victor—no, the Empire. Victor would not have done this without authorization, and Kaiser would not permit someone like that anywhere near him unless he was certain of his loyalty.

Should I kill Kaiser first? I knew where he was as Max Anders. I could easily do it. He had to breathe, after all.

But…

No. It was not enough to kill him. Not after what he’d ordered done to Sheila and the others. Because this almost certainly came at his order. He would have had to know what Victor could do.

No. Death would be too merciful for him. I would tear the Empire to shreds. Not just their capes, but their unpowered groups. I would take every last bit of the legacy that All Father and Iron Rain had created and I would uproot it. Theo would inherit the remains and I would not grant Kaiser the benefit of death. I would leave him, powerless, in the birdcage or a normal prison, rendered utterly helpless to do anything as he watched his proud empire become a footnote in history.

But first I had to find a way to lead Armsmaster to the evidence.

When we stopped, Armsmaster turned to me. “We will not enter the apartment until I have examined the exterior.” He brought forth some equipment from his bike, and I followed him up to the door, a cheery welcome mat in front of it. He examined the door, using some kind of device to scan the doorknob and lock.

“No sign of lock-picking or forced entry, but it would be easy enough for even a moderately skilled individual to gain access to a key.” Then he pulled out a device, held it to the door, and moments later, we were in. The apartment was fairly spartan, a few touches showing what Sheila had enjoyed. A picture of her at some kind of ceremony, her diploma from UCLA. A few minor journalism awards.

Armsmaster ran some kind of scanner over the carpet and nodded. “As I expected.”

“Yes?” I had detected the footsteps of the paramedics when they’d been called.

“The carpet is too well kept up. There are no signs of Ms. Cho’s footsteps, just the paramedics’, as if she’d been doing nothing but sitting in her chair. Either that, or she literally vacuums every time she moves around in the apartment.”

“Someone cleaned the carpet?”

“Yes. Not very obvious—someone who wasn’t looking would see the paramedics’ footprints and fill in the details. Likely more people were here and took measures to remove their footprints and any material from their shoes, assuming the later activity would ensure nobody would notice.”

Like me. Granted, I’d stopped when I had found the blood… but no. I’d never even thought of that kind of analysis. I would make notes when I got home.

Armsmaster examined the desk first, checking the computer and all papers, carefully not touching the chair or any surfaces. Another scanner. “Only Ms. Cho’s fingerprints. They weren’t after the papers, or anything on her computer.” He frowned. “If we are correct, that the Master is a skill thief, they were after her.” He glanced up, and I followed his glance to the diploma.

I didn’t need to say anything. We were both remembering the husk we’d recently seen.

Then he checked the chair and…

“Blood.” He held out some kind of sniffer device. “Under one armrest.” He carefully turned it over, and then, for the first time, I saw it in person.

Sloppy letters. A woman’s last desperate attempt at the last moments of her mental life. Not a plea, not a prayer, but a warning.

VICTOR E88

I wonder if I would be able to do that? Fight down the panic and write those words? I’d faced Leviathan… but the worst Leviathan could do was kill you.

“So.” Armsmaster nodded before he lifted his forearm. “Director Piggot?” He said. “I am here with The Investigator. We have confirmation that Victor of the E88 was almost certainly the skill thief.”

 I didn’t hear the other side of the conversation.

“Yes. I agree that we should seek an immediate Birdcage order for Victor. Agreed. The Wards can be sent to Boston or New York for now.”

That was interesting, but it made sense. Aisha… I didn’t even want to imagine what might happen if Victor say, stole some of her self-control over her temper.

“Yes, I will ask.”

He turned to me. “Investigator, can you withhold this information from Orb Weaver?”

I paused, considered. “I’m afraid that Orb Weaver almost certainly knows my mind in this case.”

Armsmaster hissed.

“What is he likely to do?”

I had no interest in lying at this point. “Teach the Empire that their victims are not the only ones who can know despair.”