#chapter 14.10

Oh man, that sounds really cool! Certainly one I’d like to read someday.

Stop it, none of these girls are even remotely within the range of ages you should be seducing.

I think.

“Don’t.  I know you’ve got a silver tongue.  I don’t want to hear it.”

I get the sense that Amy has been able to avoid the miasma. Good.

“You prefer the alternative?”  Jack asked, his voice cool.

“It’s a silver tongue or a silver blade cutting out yours.”

I could picture him holding that knife of his, the threat all too clear.

There was a long pause.

He spoke, “I suppose not.  So let’s dialogue.”

Time for some talk, huh. Well, at least this buys Taylor some planning time.

Though we really do not want Amy reluctantly joining the Nine right now.

“Go ahead,” Panacea’s voice was small, almost defeated.

“What’s holding you back?  You’re capable of so much, of changing the world, of destroying it, but you’re so very small, Amelia Claire Lavere.”

Oh boy, pulling out her birth name, reminding her of her villainous father...

His voice was almost mocking as he said her name.

“That’s not my name.”

I’m with Amy. It doesn’t matter what’s on her birth certificate, what her name is is her choice.

That she’s not old enough to make it legally official does not matter.

“It’s the name you were born with.  Imagine my surprise when I found out your relation to Marquis.  In my last visit to Brockton Bay, I crossed paths with each of the major players.  I met the man.  I must tell you, Amelia, he was a very interesting character.”

Hmm. I’m not sure the last sentence is true. Taylor seemed to quietly figure out what Jack’s power did when he used it against her, and his main goal of getting to Amy was pretty easy to figure out from the context.

Hey, be patient. Because you are a patient. Patient zero for the city’s cure.

I tried to distract myself with a change of subject, “Where did you get the material for what you did for Glory Girl?  That sarcophagus thing.  You have to use living material, so…”

Yeah, damn good question.

“They weren’t human.”

“That’s not that reassuring.”

“I used pheromones to lure stray cats, dogs and rats to us, then I knit them together.  Victoria didn’t have enough body fat to stay warm, and she was wearing out faster than I could get her nutrition.”

...I see.

“She’s going to return to normal, though?”

“Just a little more time.  I have to ensure she’s totally together inside the cocoon, then disconnect her from it, and make sure she reaches a physical equilibrium afterward.  Once I know she’ll recover…” she trailed off.

“Amy-”

Right, there’s that whole thing about leaving to consider.

If you really want to leave your family, Amy, I’m sure there’s one that will have you. They’re called the Undersiders.

“Go.  You’re done.  Go after Jack.”

I hesitated.  There was a look in her eyes, dark.  She wasn’t meeting my gaze.

She doesn’t want to talk about that part.

I turned and ran.  Atlas was waiting on the rooftop as I ascended the stairs.

Too much time lost.  My body was a counter-agent for Bonesaw’s prion generators, but I had to find Jack and Bonesaw.  I could scout the area with my bugs, vaguely sense the areas they’d traveled by seeing what spots murdered my bugs on contact, but I still had to track their movements.

She touched my forehead, and I could feel the cuts knitting together.

Thank you. Now if you can fix the miasma damage, that’d be nice, but convincing you might take longer than we’ve got.

But there was another injury that wasn’t mending.

“The red miasma took away my ability to recognize people.  I don’t know anything about the people I’m fighting.  Fix my brain.”

“I don’t- I can’t.”

You really don’t have much choice at this point, Amy.

There are people who need you to do this.

“If you don’t fix me, Jack could win, and billions could die.  If you don’t cure whatever it is that Bonesaw’s done with this miasma, I and tens of thousands of others could die of a degenerative brain disease.”

Seriously, Amy, I totally get your reluctance, but it really matters now.

“You don’t understand.  I can’t cure brain damage.”

Still going with that lie?

I do suppose she doesn’t have any experience with it.

My heart fell.

“I- my- the last time I did it, the last time I broke my rules, everything fell apart.  You’re asking me to do the exact same thing Jack was.  To break my rules again.”

(except I don’t think it’ll work)

I’d mentally planned to unload the gun on Jack and Bonesaw, but I’d forgotten about the recoil.   At the same time Jack was struck down, my arm jerked up, and my mental instruction to fire nonetheless carried through.

Oops.

So she shot the ceiling? (But she didn’t kill the deputy.)

The second bullet hit the ceiling.

I whipped the door open and turned to my right to fire on Bonesaw, but my arm was numb, and her reflexes were sharp.

That doesn’t sound good.

She was already opening a door at the other corner of the classroom before I could shoot, making her way into the hallway.

Damn.

Probably depends on what you’re arguing about, I suppose.

“I’m liable to kill you if you don’t.”

Right, because then she’d be boring.

“It’s not that you see too clearly.  I think your view is warped.”

“Over the course of millions of generations that led to your birth, how many of your ancestors were successful because they were cruel to others, because they lied, cheated, stole from their kin, betrayed their brothers and sisters, warred with their neighbors, killed?

How many of those were happy?

We know about Marquis, so that’s one.”

Ouch.

How many were successful because they cooperated?  I wondered.

Probably quite a lot more.

Jack probably had a rebuttal to my question, but I wasn’t about to speak up to hear it, and Panacea didn’t ask.  She fell silent.

I was tensed, ready to move and shoot the second an opportunity arose.  Anything would suffice.  Anything would do.