Alea Iacta Est - a Worm AU Fanfic

Alea Iacta Est

Part Seven: Sneak Attack

[A/N: The final conversation between Danny and Taylor in the previous chapter has been expanded.]

Max Anders paused when the alert popped up on his computer screen. Clicking the link led him to his email browser, where a new message awaited him. The title was deliberately banal; “Report on Requested Feedback Forms”.

Of course, there were no feedback forms. There was only one thing that he had requested – or rather, ordered – recently that would require such a misleading title. He let a quiver of anticipation run down his spine; this was what he had been waiting for.

Opening the email revealed an attachment, somewhat on the large side. A .zip file, it was labelled in the same manner as the email. He downloaded the file, transferred it to a thumb-drive, then erased all evidence of the email and its contents from his computer. Flipping a switch manually turned off the wi-fi router servicing his office; for the next few minutes, his computer would be utterly unable to access the internet.

Pulling the .zip file from the thumb drive, he opened it; it requested a password, which he duly typed in. Then, and only then, did the contents reveal themselves to him.

The pictures came first. Images of a woman; petite, red-haired, vivacious. Her hair wasn't quite as vivid as he recalled it, nor her figure as slender, but she was definitely the woman he had fallen in love with all those years ago. His surveillance team had been thorough; picture after picture of her, at work, at the park, out shopping, trying on clothes with a teenage girl – wait, what?

He had been skimming through the pictures, drinking in the images, remembering exactly what she had meant to him, what she had been for him, when he ran into the image. A girl, maybe Theo's age, laughing at something Andrea said while they checked themselves out in front of a department store mirror in what were obviously new-bought outfits. Even without the red hair – not quite of Andrea's shade, but still very red, if not quite as curly – the familial resemblance was definitive.

Sister, perhaps? Cousin? But he knew somehow, deep down, that it was neither of those. This girl was Andrea's daughter.

Theo's age.

What his father had done still rankled, even after sixteen years. Tearing down his dreams of a life with Andrea, with just a few harsh words. Bundling her out of Brockton Bay, out of his life.

You don't need that red-haired hussy, Richard Anders had told him. She's not Empire. She's not one of us. The Empire has women in plenty for you to marry and father your children with. All you need to do is pick one. Or I'll pick one for you.

And so he had been introduced to Heith. She had been a little younger than him, a little more unsure of herself. While she was attractive enough, she was no Andrea, but Richard had made matters clear; he would take the cards he was dealt and play his hand.

Heith had made no objection to being matched with the heir apparent to the Empire Eighty-Eight. He would not have expected her to; marrying the second most powerful man in the organisation had its perks, after all. Neither was it a totally unpleasant situation for him; she was pliant to his wishes, the ever-dutiful wife. She fell pregnant almost immediately; their son, Theo, was born within the year.

But the Empire Eighty-Eight was embroiled in conflict, then and later. First Heith was killed and then Allfather himself, leaving Max, as Kaiser, fighting to consolidate the organisation before it fragmented altogether. There were pretenders to the throne, as there always are, but he dealt with them savagely enough that his position was soon secure.

By this time, Andrea Campbell was merely an occasional recollection in the back of his mind. He never quite forgot her, but nor did he think long about her when she did resurface in his thoughts. The truth was, he was simply just too busy to spend time on what-might-have-beens.

However, his fortunes were changing on the generational front. Theo was turning out less than satisfactory, despite all of Max's attempts to coax some personality out of him. Purity had split with him, taking their daughter with her. He knew that he could take Aster back at any time; Kayden knew it too, but he also knew that to play that card would change matters between them, perhaps forever. Nothing would ever be the same again.

Just when it seemed that he was out of options, here was something altogether new. Andrea Campbell, back in town … and she had a child. A girl, yes, less satisfactory than a son, but a child nonetheless. Her mother's strong personality was written all over her face; in the few pictures he had of her, she was laughing, smiling, full of life. Compared to the dull lump that Theo was becoming, this was compelling stuff indeed.

Just one question remained. Fingers rattling on the keyboard, he sent off a very specific set of orders. I need to know.

<><>​

One Week Later

Kayden picked up the phone, then paused. What she was about to do had a very final feel to it. Once I do this, I acknowledge that I'm going to be committing to this team. Drawing a deep breath, she dialled the number.

The phone at the other end rang several times, then the connection went through.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Dinah. This is Kayden. We spoke the other day.”

Dinah's voice was bright and chirpy. “Oh, hi, Kayden! It's good to hear from you. How's the little munchkin?”

Smiling despite herself, Kayden turned to look down at Aster, who was currently playing with her toes. “As adorable as ever,” she said. “Listen, I've been thinking about what we spoke about. I think I need to meet your other members before I make a final decision.”

“That's fair,” Dinah agreed. “So, when would you like to do that?”

“I know this is short notice,” admitted Kayden, “but could it be this evening? I was thinking about what you said about offering babysitter duties and I need to go out to meet with a client. So maybe you and the others could come over and I could meet you all, before I go … ?”

There was a very brief pause. “Uh, there's only one other member, but she's kind of having a social night. But she could bring her friends over, if that's okay? They're pretty cool. They won't make a mess or break stuff.”

Kayden pursed her lips. This was a little bit of a twist that she hadn't been prepared for. On the other hand … “How old are these people? Boys or girls?”

“One boy, two girls. The boy's seventeen, the girls are fifteen and sixteen. The other member of the team is a girl; she's fifteen too.”

“What sort of a social night are we talking about here?”

“Playing a fantasy roleplaying game, actually.”

“What, like, uh, Dungeons and Dragons?” Kayden had never played, but popular culture had made her at least aware of it. Then something else that Dinah had said nudged her. “Wait, you said you only had one other member? You gave me the impression you had more.”

“Yeah, sorry. I did kind of fudge that a bit. But I wasn't lying when I said we were looking to recruit more. There are two others that we've got a good chance to recruit, especially if you come on board.”

Kayden paused. “Wait … you need me to recruit them?”

“Yeah. One's gonna need some serious throw weight to protect her from the asshole who's currently got her under his thumb. The other's gonna need to see a solid team, not just some half-assed mix of no-hopers, before she'll agree to join. And for that, we're gonna need you.”

The situation was rearranging itself in her head. “So you manipulated me.”Anger was growing within her, although somewhat mitigated by the mention of the potential member currently under the thumb of some 'asshole', as Dinah had so eloquently described him. Still … I hate being manipulated.

“Yeah. Sorry. With you on board, we've got an eighty to ninety percent chance of fixing what's wrong with Brockton Bay. Without you? Forty to fifty.”

She was still seething. “I should hang up right now.”

“I wouldn't blame you if you did. But we're still willing to help you with the ABB.”

“ … wait. You meant that bit?”

“Hah, god, yes. Between you and me and our precog, we can make a real start on making the ABB all kinds of sorry. Once we get the other Thinker on board, we can step it up to the next level.”

Kayden felt her anger ebbing. “So … you need me more than you made out, before. But the rest of it's on the level?”

“Absolutely and one hundred percent. Yeah, sure, the team's gonna need you for credibility as well as firepower. That shouldn't really come as a surprise. You'll be the only adult, plus the biggest hitter. But we'll all do our level best to back you up in whatever you do.”

“Hmm.” Kayden's mouth twisted. Is she still manipulating me? She thought about it, then shook her head. Max manipulated me for years. This doesn't feel like that. Besides … “This roleplaying game thing. It's a social situation, you say?”

Dinah adjusted quickly to the change in topic. “Sure. I don't play much, but I have fun when I do.”

“Could other people do it, or is it already closed off?”

“Oh, uh, other people could join, sure. Why, are you thinking of trying it out?”

Kayden snorted. “No, I think I'm too old for that sort of thing. But I have a stepson who's around that age. He might be interested.”

“Sure, the more the merrier. They're always willing to show a newbie how to play.”

“They won't tease him for getting stuff wrong?” She had heard that some computer game cliques did that. Which reminded her. “Does he need his own computer?”

“Oh, no, no, no. This isn't a computer thing.”

“What, really?”

“No, it's tabletop. Pencil, paper and dice.”

“Oh.” Kayden felt her heart sink slightly. “I don't think he's got any dice.”

“Pfft, that's not a problem. Nor did Taylor when she joined. He'll get loaned some and then if he wants to keep playing, he can get his own.”

“But you're sure he'll be welcome.”

“I will personally make certain of it.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“That's okay. When should we turn up?”

“As early as possible in the evening would be good. Does any of you have experience baby-sitting?”

The slightest pause. “Yeah, Kay's done it before. She's pretty good at it.”

“And you won't get engrossed in the game and forget to keep an eye on Aster?”

“Hah, if I know these guys, they'll have her rolling dice by the end of the night.”

The mental image made Kayden smile for just a moment. “Just don't let her put any in her mouth. She might choke on them.”

“I'll set my power to the job of 'babysitting Aster' for the night. She's gonna be the most comprehensively cared for child in Brockton Bay.”

“Oh. You can do that?”

“It's a job. My power can handle it.”

“Oh. Well. I'll see you when you get here, then.”

“See you then.”

Kayden put the phone down, then paused. I never told her my address.

She sighed. Thinkers.

<><>​

“So hey, Taylor. Got Dinah's message. Why are we gaming here tonight?”

Taylor looked around at Cameron as she got out of the car. “Babysitting,” she lied concisely. “Dinah got me the job, but tonight's game night so she asked if we could have the game over here instead.”

“Plus, the lady's got a stepson,” Dinah added, climbing out of the car after Taylor. “Apart from the one Taylor's gonna be babysitting. About you guys' age. She said he might like to join the game.”

“Wait, so she's good with us gaming at her place, with her kid, while Taylor's babysitting her other kid?” Kay's expression was one of bemusement.

Dinah shrugged. “'S what she said.”

“Well, this should be fun.” Where anyone else's voice would have been resigned, Annette's was full of enthusiasm. “Wonder what he'll want to play?” She bounced on her toes.

Andrea gave her a fond look. “Well, why don't we just find out? Cameron, Kay, got your stuff?”

“Sure thing, Ms C,” Cameron told her, hefting his backpack on to his shoulder. “And thanks again for the lift.”

“Pfft, it's nothing.” She gave him a grin. “Annette has fun at your games, so making sure you all get there on time is a good thing.”

Danny cleared his throat. “So, where are we going from here?”

Dinah checked a piece of paper. “This way.” She led the way toward a nearby apartment building.

<><>​

Theo had the TV turned down low so as not to disturb Aster; he had fed the baby while Kayden put the final touches on his dinner, a large pan of lasagne. While he appreciated it – he rather liked lasagne – he was beginning to wonder exactly how much she thought he needed to eat. I'm not that fat, am I?

He was still mulling on that when he heard the door buzzer go.

“Theo, get that, will you?” Kayden called from the kitchen.

“Okay,” he agreed readily enough. Getting up from the sofa, he headed for the door and pressed the intercom button. “Who is it?” he asked.

“Hi, my name's Dinah. Could you tell your stepmom we're here?”

Theo frowned. The voice sounded like a girl. Not one he knew; he certainly didn't know anyone called Dinah. And who was 'we'?

“Hello? Theo, are you there?”

He blinked. She knows my name? How does she know my name? “Oh, uh, yeah. Okay, I'll tell her.”

Puzzled, he headed into the kitchen. “Uh, it's someone called Dinah.”

“Oh, good, she's here.” Kayden smiled at his look of confusion. “It's okay. I've just arranged for some people your age to come over and help you babysit. They play one of those Dungeons and Dragons games. If you're interested, you could join in.”

His confusion only increased. “What? I've never needed help baby-sitting before. What's going on here?”

Studying his expression, she sighed. “Okay. It's a cape thing. But I don't think most of them know about it. They're just here for the game, all right?”

At the phrase 'cape thing', he relaxed. Growing up in the Empire Eighty-Eight, he was aware from an early age that most of his close relatives were capes, and that sometimes things got a little confusing in the name of cape business. A bunch of kids coming over to help him babysit Aster and play some game or other didn't even trip the radar on his personal weird-shit-o-meter.

“Yeah, sure, okay, I can do that.” He paused. “Dungeons and Dragons?”

“Apparently they play it.” She shrugged. “Have you ever …?”

“Uh, no.” He spread his hands. “I doubt my father would even allow something like that in the front door.”

“You may just be right,” she agreed. “Well, if you're interested, now's your chance to learn. But you might want to go let them in at some point.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah.” Hustling back to the door buzzer, he blurted, “Sorry about the wait,” and pressed the button to open the door downstairs.

“They're on their way up,” he called back to the kitchen, softly so as to not wake Aster.

“Good,” she said. “Just remember, this is not a reflection on you as a baby-sitter. That's just the excuse.”

“Thanks, Kayden.” He meant it; his father had long had a habit of belittling any effort he made to assert himself; he had once referred to it in Theo's hearing as 'character building', but Theo personally wondered whose character was supposed to being built, here. Kayden, on the other hand, was nice to him. Considerate.

As her stepson, he didn't think she actually liked him all that much – to be constantly reminded of your ex-husband's previous wife could not be a good thing – but she had a maternal streak a mile wide and thus she could not help but care for him. For his part, he appreciated the baby-sitting job, giving him the opportunity to get out from under his father's thumb for the evening and sometimes the weekend. He wasn't sure if he'd ever see Kayden as his mother, but he liked her for herself. And Aster, of course, was just adorable.

When the knock came at the door, he opened it, then involuntarily stepped back. Five kids of varying age, as well as two adults, were crowded into the corridor; he felt a little panic rising. I'm not good with people, especially not this many.

“Hi!” the girl at the front greeted him brightly. She was younger than him by a few years, he estimated absently. Long straight dark hair framed a face that was cute now and would be pretty in a few years. “I'm Dinah. You must be Theo.”

He blinked. “I, uh … hi?”

Kayden rescued him. “Come on in,” she called out, bustling through from the kitchen. “Dinah, thank you for coming.”

Oh, good, Kayden knows them. With a profound sense of relief, Theo stepped aside to let his stepmother deal with the visitors. Maybe I can hide in my room with a book …

“Well, someone had to show Taylor where your place was,” Dinah was saying to Kayden. “Taylor, this is Mrs, uh …”

“Russell,” Kayden put in. “Ms Russell.”

Huh. I knew she had split with my father, but she's using her maiden name and all. It must be serious. Theo didn't know what to think about that.

“Ms Russell, okay. This is Taylor Hebert. She's gonna be doing the baby-sitting tonight. And we're gonna help,” Dinah finished with a grin.

“Wow,” remarked the red-haired girl who had entered with the rest of them. As she spoke, she looked around the apartment with a bright and interested eye; something about her struck Theo as being vaguely familiar, although he couldn't quite pick it out. “This kid's gonna be the most baby-sat rug-rat in Brockton Bay.” Despite Theo's efforts to fade into the background, she stepped toward him. “Hi, I'm Annette. Theo, right?” She held out her hand.

“I, uh, yes,” he agreed, shaking her hand. Her grip was firm; the attention she was giving him was almost daunting. It was as if she had decided that he was the most interesting person there. Which has never happened before, in a good way anyway. “How, uh, how are you?”

Her smile lit up the whole room. “I'm just great, Theo, thanks for asking.” She pointed at the other teenagers. “That's Cam, Kay and the skinny one is Taylor.”

Cam was tall, broad-shouldered and had dark blond hair; he looked to be a couple of years older than Theo. Kay was maybe sixteen, quietly pretty with long black hair held back in a scrunchie. Taylor was definitely skinny, possibly Theo's age, with round-lensed glasses, long curly dark hair and a wide smile.

Theo found himself once more on the back foot. He simply wasn't used to being the centre of attention among his peers, unless it was as the butt of some joke. But the expressions weren't cynical or malicious.

Behind Annette, the two adults had finished introducing themselves to Kayden; he hadn't heard either of their names, but he guessed he would find them out, sooner or later. “So yeah,” Dinah said to Kayden. “Does Aster have any special needs that Taylor needs to know about?”

Despite his current distraction, Theo recognised that as cape code for you need to talk to Taylor in private. Apparently, Kayden got the message loud and clear; she nodded and turned to Taylor. “Come into the kitchen for a moment, please?”

“Sure thing, Ms Russell,” Taylor agreed; she followed Kayden out of the room.

“Okay then,” Dinah announced. “Theo, got a question for you. Have you ever played pencil and paper roleplaying games?”

Theo blinked as everyone turned to look at him again. He was well used to being silently judged by members of Empire Eighty-Eight, with the wordless commentary being along the lines of he'll never measure up to his old man, but this was a different kind of scrutiny; less condemnation, more curiosity. “I, uh … no …?”

“Okay, that's fine. Everyone's gotta learn sometime. Cam, you brought the books, right?”

“I did,” the older boy declared, slapping his backpack. Despite himself, Theo perked up slightly. Books? I can relate to books.

“Excellent,” Dinah told him. “Get 'em out. Kay, you're better at explaining things to people. Try and figure out what Theo would enjoy playing. Annette, you brought extra dice, right?”

“Well, duh,” the red-haired girl said cheerfully. “Let me guess, get them out so I can explain the difference between two d-ten and percentile, right?”

“Exactly.” Dinah grinned at her. “Just don't get the metal d-twenty out, okay? That tabletop looks like it could dent.”

Annette rolled her eyes and grinned back. “Spoilsport. When I roll that die, everything gets out of the way.”

“Including other dice, furniture and small household pets,” Cam interjected, pulling books from his backpack. “So, Theo, have you ever read -”

“Shush, sweetie,” Kay reproved him gently. “We both know I'm better at explaining things. You'll just confuse the poor guy.”

“And you've got no idea about what's going on, do you?” Annette said. Her expression was sympathetic; he got the impression that she really did understand.

“Uh, yeah, nope,” he agreed.

Dinah turned to the tall skinny man who had come in with the others. Balding, with glasses and a weak chin, he didn't look like much. Theo metaphorically shook himself. That's what my father would think of him. I am not my father.

“Uh, Mr Hebert, you're the old-school gamer here, right? How about you help out?”

“Right then,” the man stated. “Come on, Theo, take a seat and I'll give you a quick run-down.” He suited action to word while the petite red-headed woman – surely Annette's mother, given the resemblance – stood back, watching everything with a grin on her face.

Cautiously, Theo sat down beside him. “Okay, what am I looking at?”

“Right then.” Mr Hebert cleared his throat. “This is an interactive game. Those rulebooks explain how to make up the character you're going to be playing in the setting. Cameron, you're the game master?”

“Usually,” the tall blond boy replied. “Unless Annette takes a turn.”

“And then the game takes a turn for the silly,” Kay added. Annette stuck her tongue out at her. “Hey, nothing wrong with silly. I laughed so hard I fell out of my chair, the last time.”

“Anyway,” Mr Hebert went on. “You have the game master, who runs the game and describes the universe around you. He's got books that give him information on how to do it, but he'll be mainly running it out of his head. If he wants something to happen, that something will happen. With me so far?”

Theo was very familiar with this sort of concept. Like my father on a typical day. “Sure.”

“What your character can do is put down on your character sheet,” Kay added helpfully, holding up a piece of paper covered in arcane scribblings. “Your name, what he or she is in the game, what you can do and what you currently own.”

Theo took it and looked at it. He frowned as he looked at the top line. “So your name in the game isn't the same as it is in real life?”

“Oh god no,” Annette chuckled. “You can call yourself anything in-game.”

“Within reason,” Cameron amended.

“For instance, Princess Frilly-pants is right out,” agreed Kay. “Isn't that right, Annette?”

“Still think you two are total spoilsports,” Annette said, grinning broadly. “She was a princess and she did wear frilly pants.”

“Yes,” Cameron replied patiently, “but it might have helped if she didn't try to seduce every man she met.”

Annette's grin turned into a smirk. “I still think you were unfair in not giving me more of a chance to succeed. I rolled awesomely against that high elf lord that one time.”

Kay rolled her eyes. “She was a half-ogre, Annette.”

“And?”

“You were in chains at the time. In his dungeon. About to be whipped for trying to steal his jewelled family crest.”

Annette's eyes were dancing with mischief. “Hey, some guys are turned on by whips and chains. I figured I had half a chance.”

“Moving right along,” Danny interjected before Theo's brain could seize up altogether. “You've got the game master. You've got the rulebooks, which will incidentally help you make up your character. And you've got the dice.”

On cue, Annette opened the drawstrings on a large velvet bag and upended it on the table. Multi-coloured polyhedrons bounced and clattered across the wooden surface. Theo stared at several of them as they came to rest before him. “I've heard of these things,” he admitted. “They're not like normal dices.”

“Nope,” Annette agreed. “These are much cooler. Gamer dice. So much fun to play with.” Expertly, she picked out several of different shapes and displayed them on her palm. “Okay, quick notes here. One die, several dice. But instead of saying 'six-sided die' we just say 'd'. Like 'd-six'. Okay?”

Theo blinked at her rapid-fire delivery. “Okay, sure. Die, dice. D-six. Got it.”

Annette grinned at him. “Great. Doing well so far. We've got the d-four, the d-six – same shape as your ordinary mundane Monopoly dice, and in fact you can use those instead if you have to – the d-eight, the d-ten, d-twelve and d-twenty.” By way of illustration, she rolled the last one, which seemed to have far too many sides. It bounced on the table, then came up showing the number 17. “Darn. I was hoping to get a natural twenty. That would have been awesome.”

Theo eyed the d-twenty and picked it up. Turning it over, he inspected the numbers. “So how will I know what, uh, dice to roll at any time?”

“It'll be on your character sheet,” Cameron advised him. “You'll figure it out pretty quickly.”

“Now, there's one wrinkle with dice I'm gonna have to show you,” Annette said, handing him a pair of them “See if you can tell me what's different about them.”

Theo examined them carefully, turning the pieces of molded plastic over in his hand. The first thing he registered was that they were the same colour, a pale green with yellow flecks. Then he noted that they were a weird shape, not as regular as the others, with a distinct point on each end. Still, he was beginning to think that they were identical, until he noticed something odd about the numbering on them. “Hey, that one's got ten, twenty, thirty on it while this one's one, two, three. Why is that?”

“Well done. Because if you roll them together, you can generate a number from one to a hundred.” Annette's expression was pleased, as though she was proud of him. It was an odd feeling. “Go ahead, roll them.”

<><>​

Taylor watched Kayden – Ms Russell – as she closed the kitchen door then leaned up against the counter, arms folded. The petite woman – Taylor realised that she was actually taller than Aster's mother – eyed her for a long moment.

Obscurely aware that this was some sort of test, Taylor didn't fidget or blurt out the first thing that came to mind. Instead, she waited, only moving to hitch the backpack up on to her shoulder.

“So, you're the precog.” Ms Russell may have been commenting on the weather. So, it might rain tomorrow.

Taylor jerked her head in what might have been a nod. “Uh, yes, ma'am.”

Ms Russell eyed her. “Show me. Make a prediction.”

“I, uh, need dice. Or something.”

A frown. “What?”

Taylor cleared her throat. “I need to roll dice or flip a coin or something similar. It's how my power expresses. I can't just make the prediction.”

There were several slow blinks as Ms Russell digested this, then she looked toward the door into the living room. “Meanwhile, out there, they're playing a game which involves specialised types of dice. Please explain this coincidence to me.” Her expression had no give in it whatsoever. I guess she really wants to make sure we're serious and not trying to play her.

“I, uh, discovered my power just around Christmas.” She took a deep breath, trying to order her thoughts. “Flipping coins, actually. But Dad used to play those games and he got out his old dice. I found out I could do some pretty good predictions with them. They even got me out of Winslow and into Arcadia when they predicted trouble for me.”

“And what does this have to do with what's going on out there?” Ms Russell's tone had eased only slightly.

“Well, at Arcadia, I met Annette, who spotted my dice bag. She games, so she recognised it and introduced me to the other guys. We play regularly. Tonight's our game night.”

Ms Russell rubbed her lower lip. “All right. Tell me how your power works.”

Taylor shrugged. “I can roll dice or flip coins to answer questions. That's the really short version.”

“A slightly longer version, please.” Ms Russell's voice was sharp. “One that includes how Dinah knew things she shouldn't.”

“Oh, uh, Dad got me alphabet dice. So I can ask for verbal answers instead of just percentile chances. And I can also make dice or other things land where I toss them, or make them land the way I want. But not both. Dad says it must be a power thing.”

Ms Russell frowned. “Please demonstrate.”

Taylor took the bag from her shoulder and unzipped it to get her dice-bag out, then shook out a couple of the dice into her hand; one six-sided, the other eight-sided. “Seven.” She threw the d8. It landed, of course, on seven. The next die was a d6. “On top of the d8.” Tossing it casually, she watched it land neatly on the other die.

“Impressive.” Ms Russell picked up the dice and examined them, then rolled them experimentally. They came up three and eight. “You can do this with anything?”

“Anything I can toss,” Taylor amended. “Lightly, with just enough force to get it there.”

“How about weapons? Can you throw them to hit whatever part of the target you want?”

Taylor shook her head. “I can toss things lightly. We tried with darts. I'm no better than anyone else with those.”

“But you could theoretically drop things on top of people.”

“Well, yeah, but that would require a fairly specific set of circumstances,” Taylor agreed.

“How about electronic random number generators?”

“Uh, no. I need to physically have contact with the thing I'm tossing. Some level of control.”

Ms Russell nodded slowly. “Very well. How about an actual prediction now?”

“Sure.” Taylor emptied the rest of the dice into her hand, then selected three d10s. “Think of a number between one and a thousand.”

“Thinking of it.”

Taylor tossed the dice on to the kitchen counter and then covered them with her hand. “What was the number?”

“Seven hundred and thirty-two.”

Taylor lifted her hand; two of the dice read 'seven' and 'three'. The third was sitting on 'five', but the movement of her hand rolled it on to a two. “Seven three two, right there.”

Ms Russell blinked. “I was going to go with seven thirty-five but I changed my mind. How did you do that?”

“My power handles the heavy lifting,” Taylor said with a shrug. “I just make the rolls. I have no idea how it works.”

“How much information can you get?” Ms Russell picked up one of the d10s and examined it carefully. “What are your limitations?”

“Well, I can't find out anything that I wouldn't have been able to learn without tossing the dice,” Taylor told her frankly. “And whatever information comes up presumes that I'm not going to be tossing the dice again. Also, if the fact of my rolling changes the information I'm rolling to find out, I don't get a meaningful roll; my hand cramps up instead.”

Ms Russell nodded. “So we don't let anyone know we have a precog on the team. That sounds like a relatively easy way to disable you.”

“It goes away after a bit, but it still hurts when it happens,” Taylor agreed. “But if it's information that's set in stone, or will be set in stone when it happens, and I'd find out some other way anyway, then yeah, I can pull it up for you. Down to the fractions of a percentile, if I feel like it. And if I ask the right questions, in the right order, then I can find out more information.”

“That sounds … very useful. Very useful indeed.” Ms Russell handed the d10 back to Taylor. “You mentioned alphabet dice. What are your limitations there?”

“Okay, give me a second.” Taylor rummaged in the backpack, then came out with the box containing the alphabet dice. “I've been meaning to make a bag for these too, but I haven't had the time yet.” She kept talking while putting the other dice back in the dicebag, which she left on the counter. “Dad got these for me online. They're fairly large, so I can't hold many at once.”

Opening the box, she demonstrated, pulling out four of the dice and showing how they just barely fit into her hand.

“And with these you can garner verbal information rather than numerical?”

It wasn't really a question, but Taylor treated it as one anyway. “Yeah. My power abbreviates as much as it can, but I can understand it because, you know, it's me. But if I have to use more than eight or twelve letters, it tends to trail off. So I have to keep it short and sweet.”

“Have you considered using something like Scrabble tiles?” asked Ms Russell. “Surely you could fit more of them into your hand.”

“Yeah, but I can't guarantee on having the letters I need,” Taylor said. “With alphabet dice, I can.”

“So make me a prediction with them,” Ms Russell proposed.

“Such as?”

Ms Russell considered. “Is there likely to be trouble with Kaiser?”

Taylor winced. “Yeah, that's a biggie. You want a yes or no answer, or percentile?”

“Yes or no answer.” She indicated the alphabet dice. “I want to see how those go.”

Taylor rolled; the dice clattered on the countertop. They came up YES.

“Oh shit.” She looked at Ms Russell. “This could be bad.”

“Not necessarily. I can talk to him, make sure he knows that we're not going to go head to head with the Empire.” Ms Russell pointed at the dice bag. “Can you get a percentile chance of trouble between this team and the Empire Eighty-Eight if I do that?”

“I can try.” Taylor dug out all five d10s and rolled them.

Ms Russell eyed the results askance. “I can't tell if it's good or bad.”

Taylor, on the other hand, smiled. “It's good. Three point six one nine two percent chance that there will be trouble between the Empire Eighty-Eight and our team if you explain that to them.”

“Less than four percent? Good. Excellent.” Ms Russell breathed a slight sigh of relief. “Well, I think we dodged a bullet there.”

“Yeah, wow. I'm so glad you thought to ask about that. I was under the impression that you and the Empire weren't even working together any more.”

That earned her a grimace. “Trust me, once you're in Kaiser's ambit, if he decides that you're someone he wants to keep around, he'll go far beyond what's normally considered reasonable to keep hold of you. Even if it's not what you want. Ruthlessness is his stock in trade.”

“And he still let you go?”

“Not too far.” Ms Russell indicated the door, and the living room beyond, with a tilt of her head. “He's made sure that he can have Aster taken away from me with one phone call. And if I go too overtly against his wishes, he will. Which is why I'm treading very carefully indeed around this idea.”

“Oh. Wow.” Taylor considered that. “That could be really, really bad.”

“To say the least.” Ms Russell's mouth set in a hard line. “Aster is my life. I won't do anything that has even a remote chance of me losing her.”

“Ah.” Taylor raised a finger. “With our plans as they are right now, what are the chances of anything taking Aster away from you?” Before Ms Russell could comment, she rolled the dice. As they clattered to a halt, she watched, her heart in her mouth.

“Well?” The older woman's voice was almost hushed.

Taylor's smile was broad and heartfelt. “Two point one three eight four percent.”

“And your predictions are exactly that accurate?”

A shrug. “Dad had me roll on the chances of a heads or tails for a series of coin flips. It was actually slightly off the fifty-fifty chance and my prediction showed that.”

“Well, that's a huge relief.” Ms Russell smiled for the first time since entering the kitchen. “I really have to go now, but I'm glad we spoke. I will admit that I had reservations about teaming up with, well, middle-schoolers, but you've impressed me. Both of you have.”

“Good.” Taylor tried not to heave a sigh of relief; she didn't point out that she wasn't actually in middle school. “I know that as kids, we're likely to have a credibility problem. Plus, I'm not in any way a front-line anything. Nor, truth be told, is Dinah.”

“But you're aiming to get more members in?”

“Yeah.” Taylor nodded. “If you join, that'll help our chances of recruiting the others considerably. I ran the numbers and there's no doubt about it.”

“Well, just so long as your numbers can help me clean up the ABB from this town, I don't mind who you recruit,” Ms Russell told her warmly. Opening the oven, releasing a waft of fragrant steam, she pulled out a large pan of lasagne. “Just by the way, I made this for you all. Do you and your friends like lasagne?”

Taylor grinned. “Signs point to yes.”

<><>​

“Okay, so now you add your Dexterity bonus to that number for your Reflex save.” Annette tapped her fingernail on the character sheet.

“Ah, right.” Theo was already scribbling in the space provided. “I see how it works. And my, uh, Wisdom bonus to that number there for my Will saving throw, right?”

“Right, exactly.” She ruffled his hair playfully. “You're a natural at this.”

He flushed, ducking his head slightly. “It's all pretty easy to figure out.”

Danny smiled tolerantly as he watched the byplay. “Still, some people never figure out even the basics. I remember one guy, we had to explain what THAC0 meant, every single game. He just never got it.”

Kay frowned. “What's THAC0?”

“Wasn't it something like BAB, only different?” asked Cameron.

“Possibly,” Danny hedged, only having the vaguest idea as to what BAB was. “It was a number that you calculated for your character, that you had to roll to hit Armour Class zero.”

“That can't be right,” objected Taylor. “Armour Class starts at ten and goes up from there, right?”

“Ah, we did it differently back in the day,” Danny said. He opened his mouth to say more, but at that moment, the kitchen door opened, releasing the odours of freshly-cooked food into the room.

“Wow,” Annette breathed. “That smells awesome.”

“It does,” Taylor agreed. “It really does.”

“This is for you kids,” Kayden stated as she placed the pan of lasagne in the centre of the table. “Theo knows where the plates and cutlery are. And it'll be nice if one of you can help him wash up after.”

“Oh, I think we can manage that,” Dinah remarked cheerfully; Taylor elbowed her surreptitiously.

“Good,” Kayden said. “I've got to go now. Taylor, if you have any problems with Aster, ask Theo for help; he's done this all before.”

“Okay, no worries,” Taylor replied promptly.

“I suppose it would probably be a good idea for us to go too,” Andrea prompted Danny. “After all, the idea of having a baby-sitter is so the adults can go do their thing.”

Annette nodded; cheekily, she made a shooing motion toward her mother. “Yeah, go on, get out of here. We got this.”

Danny glanced at Taylor and she nodded in agreement. “Trust me, Dad. We're good.”

“Okay then,” he said. “We'll be back in a few hours to pick you up.”

As he closed the door behind himself and Annette – Kayden was already ahead of them – he heard Kay saying, “Right, now let's get your Armour Class sorted out …”

Together, they descended the stairs; the sun had set by the time they stepped out on to the street, with dusk spreading over the sky. Kayden gave them a wave as she got into her car; moments later, the engine started and she drove off.

“Well,” Andrea observed brightly.

“Well,” Danny repeated, for want of something better to say.

“They'll be at that for hours,” she pointed out. “Till nine or ten, I think Kayden said.”

“Uh, yeah, she did.” He paused awkwardly. “Did you, uh, want to go and do something?”

“Why, Danny,” she said, giving him a very arch look. “I'm surprised at you. Pleased, but surprised.”

He felt his cheeks heating. “I, uh, meant a movie or something. Or coffee. Or a movie then coffee,” he blurted. “Not that.”

“Ah.” Slowly, she sighed; for perhaps the first time, possibly due to a trick of the light, he saw her age on her face, along with a little sadness. “Maybe I came on too fast for you. You've had time to grow up, to mature. I gotta say, there's not that many guys that like me – and I know you like me – that have turned me down. But hey, I can read the writing on the wall. Let's leave sex out of the picture for the time being, okay?” She put her hand on his arm. “We can just talk. If you want. Start fresh.”

Slowly, he nodded. “Yeah. Let's talk.”

“My car or yours?” she asked.

“What?”

She shrugged. “Well, if we're both going to the same place, why waste gasoline?”

With the sense of someone stepping off a tall cliff, he nodded. Her logic was unassailable. “I'll drive.”

She grinned, the usual animation back in her face. “Shotgun.”

“Uh … you're the only one here. You get 'shotgun' automatically.”

“And?”

He rolled his eyes as he dug out his keys. “You'll never change, will you?”

“Darn tootin',” she agreed.

<><>​

Max Anders sat at his ease in the darkened apartment, the two manila envelopes on the sofa beside him and the framed picture on his lap. There would not be long to wait; his sources had told him that she was already on the way back. However, she was not alone.

A minor irritation. Easily dealt with.

His pose was calculated, that of a man in complete control of the situation. He was a man who worked hard at being in control of every situation in which he found himself. Being the leader of the largest cape organisation in the city led to a certain tendency toward being proactive rather than reactive. A week of forward planning, he maintained, was far preferable to a month of scrambling to catch up.

The lock clicked and the front door opened. Andrea's laughing voice became audible; a little throatier than when he had first met her, but still so recognisable that it brought back old memories, one after the other. This was the one thing the surveillance didn't get me.

“- you'd better stand back. I have no idea how big this thing gets!”

“Oh god,” a male voice interjected. “That was worse than my jokes. And Taylor complains about those.”

A switch clicked and the apartment was flooded with light as Andrea entered. She was followed by a tall man, skinny, balding, wearing glasses. Recognition didn't take long; Max prided himself on knowing all of the political movers and shakers in the city. Danny Hebert wasn't much of a mover or shaker, but as a prominent member of the Dockworkers' Association, he had some little influence. Pity he's wasted it all trying to get the ferry up and running again. He's beating a dead horse there.

Andrea turned to face Danny. “Yeah, but it was funny. I saw you smile.”

“Yeah, but I -” It was then that Danny noticed Max as he sat on the sofa. “What? Who the hell are you?” Max saw the frown on his face clear as recognition took over.

Puzzled, Andrea looked around. “Huh? What? Who -” She paused for a long moment. “Wait – Max? Is that you?”

Slowly, feeling the power and the control, Max stood. “Yes, Andrea,” he said softly. “It's me.”

She frowned. “What do you want? What are you doing in my apartment?”

“So sorry for the intrusion,” he murmured, sketching a slight bow. “When I heard that you were back in town, I just had to see you. A slight gratuity to the building superintendent allows me to greet you in style.” Gesturing to the side, he drew her attention to the vase holding a huge bunch of flowers.

“Oh. Oh wow,” she gasped. “Max … really, you shouldn't have.”

“But I really should,” he said. “You can't deny that back when we were last together, we meant something to each other.”

“Well, we had fun, sure,” she admitted. “But I -”

“Then why waste another moment?” He reached into an inside pocket and drew out a set of keys with a label attached. “These are yours.”

Slowly, as if they would bite, she stepped forward and took them. “What are they?”

“Keys to your new apartment,” he explained. “Five minutes from your office.”

“What? But I …” She paused, looking at the label. “Uh, no, it's not.” She frowned. “And this address … I won't be able to afford the rent. Or anywhere near it.”

“Oh, didn't I mention it?” He smiled winningly. “You've been promoted. You'll be working as my executive assistant from now on, in the main Medhall building. With a paycheck to match, of course.”

She paused for a long moment. “But what about your previous assistant? I don't want anyone bumped on my account.”

“Andrea, Andrea, Andrea, you're just as sweet and considerate as I recall,” he said cheerfully. “Nobody's getting bumped anywhere. My current assistant is being moved to bigger and better things, a long overdue promotion. I've just been on the lookout for someone I can trust in his place. And that someone is you.”

She stared at him. “Max,” she implored. “Stop and think for a moment. You don't know me. Sixteen years ago we barely knew each other. You thought I was hot, I thought your pushiness was kinda cute, the spoiled rich kid trying hard to prove he wasn't a spoiled rich kid. But that's no basis for a business arrangement.”

He blinked, then regained his place on the internal script. “That doesn't matter. You won't have to do any more than you're doing now. What matters is that we'll be back together. I wanted you to be a part of my life then. My father can't send you out of town this time. What do you say?”

“So wait, all this is to get back together with me?” She tilted her head. “Just so you can sleep with me again? Hell, asking me out for a date would have worked for that.”

“Long term,” he reminded her. “You and me.” A flickering glance at Hebert. “Nobody else.” And if I catch any other man sniffing around her …

“I … Max, no. I don't do long term.” Andrea spread her hands. “I'm in it for the fun, not for commitment. If there's anything about me you should know, there's that.”

“But …” He could not parse what she was saying. “The apartment. The money. I can send Annette to the most exclusive of private schools. If you want, I can pay for the apartment. All you have to do is say yes.” He held out his hand to her, open, an invitation anyone would take. I win.

The look on her face was not one he had seen from anyone in a very long time; at least, not directed at him. It took him a moment to recognise it.

Pity.

“Max,” she told him softly, stepping forward. “I'm sorry, but I don't go that way. What you're saying you want to do is buy me for sex. I don't have many lines, but that's one that I'll never cross. I'd be happy to see you socially, but I don't do exclusive. I never have.”

Stunned, he watched her drop the keys back into his unresponsive hand. He stared at them and at her. For several long seconds, his brain fought to comprehend exactly what had just happened.

“So I guess I'll stay in my poky little apartment,” she told him with a brave smile, “and do my lower-middle-management job and muddle along as best I can. Thanks for the offer, Max. But I'm going to have to say no.”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Uh, yeah, that's what I said,” she agreed, looking a little confused. “No.” She gestured toward the door. “Uh, I think it might be a good idea for you to leave.”

A deep breath served to clear his head. The carrot's been thrown back at me. Time for the stick, it seems. “No. You misunderstand me. You don't have the option of saying no.”

“Uh, yeah,” Hebert put in. “She does. Free country and all.” He pointed at the door, more forcefully. “And I believe that the lady asked you to leave.”

Another deep breath centred him. “Allow me to ask you a question,” he said, picking up the framed photo he had found on the coffee table. It showed a slightly younger Annette scoring a winning goal in a girls' hockey team. “Is she mine?”

She stared at the picture and then at him. The pause before she answered told him that she knew the truth. “No,” she retorted. “She's mine. Now go, please.”

A faint smile crossing his face, he shook his head. “Sorry, my apologies. That was a trick question.” Picking up one of the envelopes from the sofa, he dropped it on to the table with a slap. “I've already had a DNA check done. I am the father of your child. There's no doubt about it.”

Her jaw dropped. “Wait – what – how -”

His smile broadened. I love the reveal, when they realise just how screwed they are. “Janitorial staff are so very bribable. I blame the economy, myself. Suffice to say that I have had genetic samples procured and checked against my own, and she is indeed my progeny.”

“Okay, so yeah,” she admitted. “I'm still fairly sure that you messed with my pills to get me pregnant. Which, by the way, was a pretty shitty trick. Annette was born after I left Brockton Bay. You're the father. But it doesn't matter. Your dad made me sign all sorts of papers to ensure that I'd never make any claim on you for that sort of thing. You're not the father of record.”

“Paperwork,” he stated flatly, “can be undone with appropriate inducements. But that doesn't even matter. I am provably her natural father. I want my daughter back.”

“Well, you can't have her.”

His sigh was one of strained patience. “This wasn't a request, Andrea. Either you and Annette move into the apartment – or better yet, I have rooms spare at my home – or I take her anyway and we start negotiating visitation rights. For you.”

“No!” she shouted. “You can't take Annette away from me! I'm her mother!”

The second envelope, somewhat thicker, joined the first with a solid thud. “The weight of evidence in here,” he observed coldly, “could get you declared an unfit mother in any court I cared to name. In fact, one phone call from me is all that is needed to set that exact train of events into motion. Now, you can lose custody of our daughter or you can move in willingly with me. It's your choice.”

“Now wait just a minute,” Hebert began. He stepped forward, fists clenched. “You might be rich, Anders, but you leave Andrea alone or I'll -”

Max barely glanced at him. “Back off, Hebert. Better yet, get out. I never want to see you near Andrea again.”

Goaded by the carefully chosen words and the sneering tone, Hebert stepped in and swung a punch. It wasn't a very expert one; despite his father's long-ago reputation on the docks as an all-in brawler, Danny Hebert had not apparently inherited the old man's prowess.

Max, on the other hand, had taken boxing lessons at his father's insistence; his experiences as Kaiser had merely honed his fighting skills. He blocked the clumsy punch and returned one to the point of Hebert's jaw. Danny Hebert went down like a felled tree, crashing to the carpet and sprawling limply on to his back. His glasses, jolted free of his face, skidded across the floor. He lay there, dazed and groaning, while Max looked dispassionately down upon him. Surreptitiously, he worked his hand; Hebert's jaw had been harder than it looked.

“Hebert,” he stated coldly, “if you ever try that again, I will ensure that you lose your job, your house and everything you care about. I can do it. I will do it. Don't push me.”

“Leave him alone, you bastard!” Andrea shouted, pushing him from the side. Surprised, he staggered, then recovered himself. She came at him again; he caught her wrists. She tried to knee him in the testicles; he interposed his thigh, just in time.

“Stop,” he grated. Squeezing her wrists, he leaned his weight on her, forcing her to her knees. Pain twisted her face and she stopped struggling. “Better,” he murmured, easing up on the pressure.

She stared at him, panting. “What do you want from me?” she demanded.

“I thought I'd made that clear,” he replied, as urbanely as he could manage. “If I let you up, will you cease attempting to assault me?”
She took a deep breath. “Okay.”

Slowly, wary of treachery, he let her up, releasing her wrists. She made no move against him, rubbing her wrists carefully. “Just go,” she told him. “I won't call the police or anything. Just go.”

He chuckled warmly. “Andrea, seriously. The police in this city are a joke. I'm a regular contributor to their benevolent fund, and I have an army of lawyers at my beck and call. In the very unlikely event that it actually went to court and you won, I could appeal you into bankruptcy, very quickly indeed. In addition, in very quick succession, you would lose your job, your apartment, custody of Annette, and Mr Hebert here would lose … well, everything.” He shrugged, the very image of magnanimity. “I don't want to do it, but you've exhausted all the other avenues. So we can go down that road, but I do want you to be aware of the consequences.”

“But I don't understand,” she pleaded. “Why? Why this? Why me? You can have any woman you want. And why Annette?”

His lips thinned at the memory. “I had you. I wanted you. You were taken away from me. I want you back. And Annette is my daughter. My daughter. It's just that simple.” Danny was groaning and beginning to sit up; Max glanced at him and decided that he was no threat. “Now are you going to come with me, or do matters have to get unpleasant?”

Andrea hesitated. “I -”

“Andrea.” His voice was compassionate, warm, caring. “Please. I don't want to have to do any of this. But if you don't do as I ask, well, I'll have no choice.” By way of illustration, he indicated the photo of Annette.

“So that's how it is,” she retorted bitterly. “I do exactly as you say, or you destroy me and Danny both. That's not a choice at all.”

“No,” he agreed. “It's really not. So, do we have an agreement?”

He watched her expression change, saw the moment that she faced the truth of what was going on. Her grimace was pained as she drew a deep breath, then nodded. “Okay. I agree. I'll go with you. On one condition.”

Impressed by her nerve, even now, he raised an eyebrow. “I don't believe I left any contingency for you to make conditions.”

She looked him straight in the eye. “It's a really simple one. You leave Danny alone. You want me, you got me. But no matter what happens, Danny's out of this.”

It wasn't exactly earth-shattering; he nodded. “Very well. Mr Hebert is out of this. Just as soon as you tell him, to his face, that you never want to see him again.” His tone sharpened. “If he contacts you, or you contact him, your condition is null and void.”

She went over to Hebert, picked up his glasses and handed them back to him. Slowly, clumsily, the skinny man climbed to his feet, with what assistance she could give him. “Andrea?” he asked. “Are you okay?”

Max saw her bite her lip. “Yeah. I'm fine, Danny,” she choked out.

“Go ahead,” Max prompted. “Tell him.”

Andrea took a deep breath. “I – I want you to go, Danny. I don't want you to see me again, or contact me. It – it's better for both of us. You do understand, right?”

Hebert looked at her, then at Max. Comprehension crossed his face. “You bastard,” he whispered.

“One more outburst like that and I will be taking measures on my own account,” Max stated flatly. “You heard the lady. Get out.”

For a long moment, Max thought Hebert was going to try something anyway. Then he turned toward the door.

"Danny." Andrea's voice stopped him. He turned back toward her.

"Andrea?"

There were tears in her eyes. “Danny. Please. Just remember that the sex we had was never serious. It was only ever fun. Just that. Fun.”

"The sex?" Hebert looked confused. "But ..."

Andrea shook her head. "Go. Just go."

The door closed behind Max's rival. Triumph swelled in his chest. One down, one to go.


End of Part Seven

Part Eight