Turn 6.5

"—want?" I finished, just as I plunged into water. The bugs on me drowned and the rest of my swarm vanished from reach before I could fight my way to the surface.

Contessa had closed the portal that I'd fallen through.

I could tell, once I finished coughing the water out of my lungs, that I had been dropped in the deep end of a giant swimming pool, but not much else. The impact had knocked my glasses off and I'd have to dive down and search for them if I wanted to see.

I considered getting out of the pool anyway. The water hurt, with each place Blitzeis had hit me feeling like it was being scalded.

But I needed to see. Except for a dragonfly and six wasps I'd been able to save, I had no bugs on hand—at all, which indicated I was back in Cauldron's headquarters—to make up for the loss of my sight.

The chlorine stung my eyes and I was forced to dive and resurface several times before I finally found my glasses bobbing along the bottom of the pool. Once I retrieved them, I discovered there were no ladders, so I had to grab the side wall and haul myself out.

Streams of water cascaded down my body and out through the bottom of my pants legs. I was left feeling even colder than before. Shivering, I pulled up my t-shirt and looked down at my stomach. As I'd feared, much of my skin had started to turn white. Worse, it was rigid to the touch, which meant at least some of the tissue had frozen.

I sucked in a breath. How long would it take me to heal? How much of this damage was going to be permanent? And what about my organs? Whatever Contessa had planned for me had better not take long, because I needed to give myself medical attention.

Hoping to find a first aid kit, I looked around. There weren't any windows, of course, but I also couldn't find any doors. That implied the place was like the armory, accessible only via portal. This, combined with the fact my seven remaining bugs still lived, further implied that the Custodian wasn't here. I might have the latitude to do something.

I walked, socks squelching all the way past a life preserver and pool net, to the only piece of furniture, a wrought iron stand stocked with large white towels at the shallow end of the pool.

They'd painted the fucking metal white. I dug my fingernail along the top, scratching some of the paint away to reveal black. They could have just bought a white rack to begin with. I tore more flecks away, feverishly trying to reveal more and more, but my fingernail hurt.

I pulled a towel off the top shelf and unfolded it. There was a little black C in the corner. They monogrammed their fucking towels the same way they tattooed human prisoners.

"Bastards," I muttered under my breath. I grabbed the rack and knocked it over. "Bastards." Then I started kicking it towards the pool. I was only wearing tennis shoes. Pain in my toes marked my progress. "Smug—arrogant—evil—bastards!"

The satisfaction I got from throwing everything into the water lasted for as long as it took me to realize that I still needed to dry off. I screamed a few more choice words, then salvaged the few towels that were mostly on the edge to pat down my hair. It only made things worse.

When Contessa came she found me sitting on the floor, still drenched, frizzy, and surrounded by sopping towels.

I scrambled to my feet. "I need to get back," I said, speaking before she had a chance to close the portal behind her. I used the distraction to sneak in half a dozen more wasps, raising my total to thirteen. "Some of my bugs will attack anything if I'm not in control of them."

She was holding a small white pot and a brush, which she set down at her feet. "Perhaps you should have considered the likely consequences of adopting such destructive pets."

"And lose a valuable resource? Do you have any idea what I can do with the silk I get from them?"

"I can't say I've given it any thought."

I tried to go for conciliatory. "Look. I get that you want to talk without me having any bugs. I can do that. But I need a small portal to control those bugs through because they'll hurt and destroy anything they can find. I promise not to bring any through."

"Liar," she said. The word was less an accusation than a statement of fact, spoken the same way that she might say that it was August.

Well, if she was a precog, she probably could guess that I would amass as many bugs as possible. Fair enough, but I wouldn't attack if I weren't provoked, and she would also know that; if she knew that I'd respond and still provoked me, it was on her.

I spread my hands, one of which still held a white towel. "Sure," I said. "If you want to start off accusing me, I'm sure we'll get somewhere."

"Liar," she said again. She held out her hand, palm upwards, and an open can of Raid fell through another portal. She caught it and killed every remaining bug I'd managed to gather before a single one could even get off the ground. Two more portals opened, and she dropped the can into one before reaching through the other—which went to, judging by the worms and lack of flying insects, a hole in the ground. She reached in, and I was able to get a single spider onto her arm before she withdrew it.

As she brought her hand back into the world we were standing in, I saw she had the Tupperware that I'd been storing the drafted messages to Tattletale in. She opened it and dropped it in the water, ruining the index cards.

Then she flicked the spider off her sleeve. I felt it arc through the air, hit the water, and die.

"Knock it off," she said.

"At least tell me why."

"You don't need us to hold your hand," she said. "Simply look at your own behavior and circumstances and make the obvious deductions. If you can't do that, then what good are you?"

Enough was enough. She didn't want to give me information? I'd take it. Starting with a test. How would she do in a close quarters fight against someone taller and with longer reach?

I threw the towel I was holding at her face and followed it up with a right hook.

But she wasn't there, a portal was, and the momentum of my swing carried me through. I pitched forward from the side of the pool to above it.

There was a brief, disorienting moment before I was all the way through and saw my own leg ten feet below me. Noticing that I could still see clearly reminded me to grab hold of my glasses so I wouldn't lose them again.

I should have been angrier, but what I felt as I fell into the water again was intense jealousy. Portals. Until I'd come here, my only experience with them had been watching Circus access her pocket dimension and seeing Labyrinth and Scrub tear open doors to Aleph and Gimel. I'd never thought about applying them in combat, but now that I knew they could be opened at a word, the possibilities were limitless.

No wonder Alexandria had wanted Tattletale to stop.

"You ought to stay there," Contessa said, once I'd surfaced and started to swim to the side of the pool again. "Immersion in warm water treats frostbite."

I spluttered as much from the outrage as much as the water. "I hope you're not looking for thanks."

"I do not expect you to thank me. I do not expect you to listen to me, either, but I was asked to speak to you."

"Who asked?"

"Number Man and Alexandria compared notes and realized there were discrepancies in what you had told them. They wanted me to investigate."

A hint about their hierarchy? She'd been the one to tell Number Man and me to go to China. Now he and Alexandria had both turned to her for help. I treaded water as I wanted for her to get to the point.

"It seems that you upset Lord Stavesacre."

Who?

It took me a moment to realize it must be Prominence's non-cape identity, the one he was hiding from his amnesiac teammates and hadn't told me.

I'd dismissed his over the top accent and general prissiness as fake when I'd met him. Now that I knew they were authentic, he seemed even more pretentious than before. Lord of what, Sulking and Whining in a Basement?

"I think he's upset because of you," I said. "How Cauldron treated him. He's angry."

"Not anger," Contessa said "Embarrassment. Being unhappy is how he feels fulfilled. Protecting people against the system is how he justifies being part of the system. By pointing out the strings, you took a point of pride and used it to humiliate him. Well done."

I was getting tired. My morning hike, a fight I hadn't intended to get into, the punishment I'd had to take during that fight, swimming in my clothes, and having to listen to her justify Cauldron's bullshit were adding up.

"We don't give people powers because they want them, we give people powers because we want them to have them. The trick is to prevent clients from realizing that. To make them think they are using us."

I let her talk. The more time she spent listening to herself, the more time I had to plan out my next move. I'd lose this fight now, but if I could get a sense of what she did I could use it in the future. Maybe I could find another precog, maybe get the twins near her, that could short-circuit her power—

"Other precognitive powers don't interfere with mine."

That was just ridiculous. "You can read minds?"

"No," she said. "You are merely predictable. Like all natural triggers. Isolated, unstable, and prone to picking fights."

"Isolated, I'll grant you," I said. "Before I got powers. Unstable? Hell no."

"You just assaulted a piece of furniture," she said.

"That was your fault."

There was a long pause. Contessa stared at me unblinkingly. I began to feel uncomfortable.

"Why did you not become a rogue?" she asked.

"To save Brockton Bay. Some of us have to live in the real world, you know."

"It's the direction we would have pushed a client who developed your powerset. You could have made millions in agriculture or forestry, or mass-produced bullet-proof suits for the PRT in exchange for resources and funds. You could have made your city a better place to live by bringing in capital."

I opened my mouth.

Then I shut it.

"But no," she went on. "You received powers because you're the kind of person who sneaks out of her home to attack a man who can personally fight an Endbringer for hours and survive."

Lung could fight an Endbringer? I filed the information away. "I thought he was going to kill children."

"Lung's arrest destroyed his faction, which caused Coil to advance his plans to take over the city by hiring the Travelers. Echidna's presence combined with the gang war you started was what drew Leviathan's attention. That, in turn, drew the Slaughterhouse Nine, which led to Coil pushing Dinah Alcott to the point you could overthrow him, which led to the release of Echidna. Would you like me to continue?"

"You're blaming me for that?"

"That is partly your agent at work, narrowing your perspective to the point where all you are focused on is yourself versus a perceived attacker. I'm trying to open your eyes to what you are as a host, not blame you for the destruction of your hometown. If you personally had taken a wiser course of action, some other fool would have ignited another chain reaction. That is how parahumanity works. That is how parahumanity is meant to work."

Host. That word again. I'd pieced some of it together, with Bonesaw and Tattletale's help. My power rewarded me when I felt closest to my worst moment, helped me when I needed it most. And Brian had said—

I felt things slide into place, a critical click, but I set the thought aside. "If you'd just tell me what I wanted to know, I'd stop."

"You would not. You will never," she said, matter-of-factly. "A useful trait, but your energy is misdirected. You saw me disarm myself, but you've attacked me twice. I told you I was aware of your deceptions, but you've spent this entire conversation lying to me or attempting to manipulate me. At what point will you understand how bullheaded and transparent you are and engage in self-reflection?"

"Not yet," I snapped. "Because that goes both ways. You think I'm stubborn and unreasonable? You people drank some juice instead of triggering and you think that makes you qualified to decide what's best for us all."

Her eyes were fixed at a point on the ceiling above my head. She wasn't exactly rolling them, but it was clear she found me annoying. "I told Rebecca I didn't know what she thought I could do," she murmured.

"Well?"

"I'm not Cauldron-made," she said. "But yes, I am—we are—what stands between humanity and total desolation."

I seized on this. "What was your trigger event, then?"

"Chaos, madness, death."

"Vague," I said.

"All-encompassing." A portal opened behind her, and she turned to step through. "You may ask for a door once you've cleaned up. Don't forget the paint."

Fuck her, I thought. I picked the debris out of the pool, and then I arranged the rest of the towels in the shape of a hand extending a middle finger.