"Amy, pass the salt please," a voice sounds somewhere on the periphery of my perception. At the moment I'm in several places at once, and what amazes me most is that Panacea's power perceives insects in all details and with complete understanding of the organism. Unfortunately, to change them I need to touch them, but even just controlling them I can see what and where can be improved and most importantly - how. Now I can create any insects. Any. Yes, including gigantic ones, invisible ones, camouflaging with the environment, bulletproof ones, with jaws that will crack tank armor like a can opener cracks a tin can with pineapple rings! I can create insects that aren't insects at all! That is - any organisms. And... I don't need to worry about ethical moments about "creating life" and especially "creating intelligent life," instead of brains they'll have insect ganglia, which I can control in constant control mode. All I need is organic mass. But with my original power that's not a problem. Anywhere in this city, even despite the flood and recently ended battle with the Endbringer - I'll extract no less than two tons of insects from sewers and destroyed houses in ten minutes. And also - rats. No, I can't control rats, but there are many of them, and my insects are poisonous and strong enough to provide me with thousands of rat corpses. The delight at the thought of the possibilities opening before me grips me so strongly that even the image that flashed in my head of me standing and madly laughing over a mountain of rat corpses didn't discourage me at all.
Someone nudges my leg under the table. Victoria. She looks at me sternly. What? Ah, yes... salt.
"Of course... ma'am," I say and pass the salt shaker to Carol Dallon, who doesn't even look at me. Perhaps at another time my unusual behavior (Amy's unusual behavior) would have attracted attention, but not today. Today everyone has something to think about. New Wave capes died in the battle with the Endbringer, but they're not just colleagues, they're also relatives. Victoria's uncle and her cousin. Megawatt and Manpower. The funeral will be tomorrow, and today an awkward silence reigns at the table. Or is it always like this with them? I remember our dinner conversations with dad. The Heberts aren't the most talkative people either, but we never had such silence. And especially after such an event as the battle with the Endbringer... and especially if they lost loved ones... if Lisa had really died, I'd be crying in Danny's arms right now and telling him what a fool I am. That I didn't value her. But that nasty bitch is alive, so I'm not going to cry over her. She even managed to make me feel guilty...
"You'll have to solve this problem," a voice sounds in my head: "Do you hear me, Taylor?"
"I hear you," I reply: "Now's not the time. Let her come to her senses for now."
"That's exactly what we can't allow. We're in her body now. You only have direct control because she's still in stupor. You're the Administrator of your Swarm, so you can control her body. But initially this is still her body. If she recovers and pushes you away from control - you'll remain the same as all of us - just a voice in the head. Yes, the most important voice, you're right about that. And yes, you'll be able to control your insects, but... you'll have a deadlock here. I don't even know what this might lead to, but right now you have an advantage. Let me go to her, to that isolated part of the brain and... the problem will be solved."
"What are you going to do to her?" I ask. I don't like Fifth's intentions. Amy has closed herself off from communication, walled herself off in a dark corner of the mind, and I don't let the others near her, it seems right to me. That she can push me away from control if she wants... sounds logical. After all, it's her body.
"I'll just talk to her," Fifth replies and I don't like the tone of his voice at all. That is, absolutely not. A boa constrictor might speak in such a tone, looking at a fresh rabbit in its cage. Just talk.
"Listen, I can't do that. You're going to destroy her as a personality, I understand you. And... I understand that you're doing this with good intentions... as it seems to you. But I can't let you destroy her personality just out of fear and concern that she'll take control of the body."
"Taylor, didn't you see this girl? She's crazy with self-discipline and self-flagellation! She'll go insane faster than I light a match. In the end we'll have to suppress her to the subconscious anyway, and you'll take control, but in the process she might do such things... well, I don't really care. She won't kill us anyway, but the surrounding world might really suffer."
I think. Fifth is right. Amy really was emotionally unstable, getting into her body I gained access to her memories too, I saw what she did, what she's capable of and how much she tormented herself. In general, this whole story gave me a terrible desire to slap myself in the face, because all her problems were in her own head, damn it. She could have lived completely differently if she had stopped constantly being afraid. Funny, one of the most terrifying capes I've ever met and lived in constant fear. Amy had two desires, two pillars of her personality - fear of condemnation from Victoria (and as a consequence - from the rest of the family, school, friends, society). After all, Vicky was a popular girl, and such people listen very carefully to the moods around them to stay popular. Because of all this, Victoria herself was dependent on the opinion of those around her, primarily - her mother and friends at school. That's why she lived such a... heroic life. Amy was terribly afraid of condemnation and therefore bent over backwards.
The second pillar of her personality was the desire to be with Victoria. Burning and unsatisfiable. And here arose that very cognitive dissonance that destroyed her personality day and night, that's why she was always without energy and with dark circles under her eyes. Everyone says Panacea works a lot, but I saw my father, who in the best days of the Dockworkers Union worked sixteen hours a day and still came home energetic, with a shining smile on his face and eagerly awaited the next working day. Hell, look at Lisa, there's someone who works like a horse, day and night, grumbles, swears, but you can see that it all gives her pleasure. No, Panacea is always without energy not because she's exploited to the bone, her mom is a lawyer, no one would allow themselves to make a minor, and a volunteer at that, work more than the prescribed six hours. During the battle with the Endbringer - yes, but that's force majeure. Otherwise - she goes to school and works a shift at the hospital and goes home... many teenagers live like that, but no one walks around so worn out to zero. Because she's being torn apart.
Her first impulse - never to receive condemnation from Victoria, family, school and society. So she chose the image of a martyr, a righteous woman, such things always allow one to be invulnerable to condemnation. She chose to be a gray mouse who helps everyone, she's convenient and needed by everyone, but doesn't evoke any emotions except boredom. Imagine Panacea, but brave, dressed in provocative clothes, short skirts and such, or even in a nurse costume for Halloween, can you imagine? With red lipstick on her lips, with confident movements and speech. That's too risky, such things might be condemned by society, school, family and most importantly - Vicky. That's why she walks around in a gray robe, never buys herself beautiful things, doesn't go on dates and doesn't post scandalous photos online.
But the second impulse - to be with Vicky! And this, on the contrary, requires being bright. Being attractive! After all - to confess to society and herself her sexual orientation... and here everything collides with her first fear. What if she confesses to Vicky, and she rejects her? What if she's subjected to universal condemnation and loses even what she has now - the friendship between sisters?
"They say Shakespeare deliberately switched his heroes," I mutter under my breath: "Hamlet would have easily dealt with Othello's problem without strangling anyone, and Othello in turn wouldn't have dawdled with Claudius and would have strangled him in the very first chapter. But then we wouldn't have such world-famous tragedies."
"Let's not make our life into a world-famous tragedy," Fifth says in my head: "especially since now we have such opportunities for growing separate bodies for each of us. Oh, I assure you, everyone will behave like obedient boys and girls as soon as you hint at this..."
"Half of you are psychos. Like hell I'll let you out and..."
"Taylor, Taylor, you're looking at the world wrong. They're psychos as long as they don't have incentive. People are the same as animals. They may not keep agreements and lie to your face, may try to sabotage and provoke, but ultimately everyone can be trained. For example... do you think Edward would like to see his daughter in his own body? He deserves that, right? Do this, and you'll be surprised how silk-smooth all the others immediately become, even for a day off in a separate body. Well and... you have complete control, what are you afraid of. Time limits, constant control over what they do, direct control in case of violations and... now you can even create insect-prisons for minds... you finally have the solution in your hands. The solution to everything. And don't say you haven't thought about it. You understand what you can..."
"I'll think about it," I reply. Indeed, everything is under my control, I can create bodies... haven't tried, but I already know - how. A fog of solutions swirls in my head, my hands are itching to test my abilities. But if it works... it should work. Really, if anyone deserves the right to talk to his daughter, it's Edward. Even if I have to fly with him to Boston. No, first I need insect-repeaters. Then - increasing my combat capabilities. The phone vibrates in my robe pocket, I don't move a muscle on my face. Ants in my pocket open the message. A message from Tattletale. She and Coil have completed the process. There's no more Tattletale or Coil. Lisa remained Lisa, only changed her surname, and Thomas Calvert remained Thomas Calvert, too much was tied to his civilian identity, including contacts in the PRT. So during the battle with the Endbringer two more villains died. Ah, yes, three. Administrator. I also died. A glorious death - in battle with the Endbringer.
"Found the location?" I type a message in my pocket. In a second an address arrives. Lisa is great. Sometimes you can even forgive her for being so harmful, because she's so useful. Address of a refrigerated warehouse, not so far, but you still can't get there without transport. So tonight I'll be busy. No rest for the wicked, and I have to get up early tomorrow. I wonder, is there an ability in Panacea's powers to not sleep or perk yourself up? Apparently not, otherwise she wouldn't drink so much coffee.
"I'm finished. No appetite today," Carol says and pushes away her plate: "Girls, clear the table. And prepare for tomorrow. The ceremony is at ten in the morning, we need to get up at eight."
"Yes, mom," Victoria nods. Carol leaves the table without looking at anyone and goes up to her bedroom. Following her, after kissing us on the tops of our heads (I feel awkward!), her husband also leaves, Mark Dallon, Flashbang. Victoria follows him with her eyes, making sure he also went upstairs. Looks at me.
"What?" I say: "Why are you looking?"
"Amy would never say it like that," she says: "Maybe you'll let me talk to her?"
"She's not in the mood right now," I reply.
"Right. I'm so angry at her. She decided to kill you, it's crazy. I never would have believed it, but..." she shakes her head: "Facts are facts. You're in her body, so she killed you. Fucking sugar!"
"And you yelled at me that time," I remind her: "Remember? I was trying to tell you."
"Yes, yes, yes. Of course. Rub salt in my wound, Taylor, finish off the fallen. I already admitted I was wrong, are you satisfied?"
"Honestly, I didn't hear you say that," I note: "Mostly you just yelled at me."
"Freaking sugar, Taylor. I. Was. Wrong. Satisfied?!" she blurts out, looking straight into my eyes.
"Quite. Don't boil over like that..." I say, feeling myself relax a bit. Thank God, Vicky is capable of admitting her mistakes, otherwise I was starting to think she was completely wooden.
"Sorry. It's not because of you, or rather - not only because of you... Uncle Neil died. And Eric," she turns away: "It's like being hit in the head with a sledgehammer. I still can't get over it. Everything... seems unreal, you know? Eric... Crystal will go insane and Aunt Sarah too. And Uncle Neil, he was always so cheerful... and then there's Amy. Amy! That she's a biotinker, not a healer! That she lied to me all this time!"
"You don't even know half of it," I say, feeling somewhere very deep inside - a dark abyss of despair and fear. Amy is afraid I'll expose her. And I will expose her.
"What else don't I know about my own sister? Tell me," she says, folding her arms across her chest: "Nothing can surprise me anymore. Nothing can amaze me. Nothing will stir my heart. Was she selling drugs to schoolchildren? Planning world conquest? She's adopted, and actually the daughter of a famous villain? She can edit people's brains?"
"Well..." I fold my arms across my chest, mirroring Victoria's movement: "I think I can still surprise you. And stir you up. But that's not what we're talking about now. Tell me, what do you know about biokinetics?"
"Why are you speaking in riddles..." Victoria frowns: "They can construct living organisms like tinkers - their devices. Nilbog or Blasto for example... wait, Amy - she can do it like Nilbog too?"
"And how. So much that Nilbog nervously smokes on the sidelines. Like - son, hold my beer," I say: "Such potential..."
"Taylor! Don't tell me..."
"That I'll use it for Evil? Come on Vicky, you're such a boy scout. Girl scout. Okay, about me and my goals later. Tonight I'll need your help, Vicky. Really need your help. And tonight I'm going to shake your little heart... oh, yes..." I finally smile. The internal tremor and tension release me a bit, and this whole situation starts to amuse me.
"Taylor... what's wrong with you? Have you gone crazy?" she frowns: "What nonsense? I'm not going anywhere with you..."
"Think about it, girl scout, you remember what Nilbog did, why he was called that? With reference to 'god'?"
"I know! We studied it at school and there was a briefing at the PRT too! He always revived his creatures and..." she falls silent and her eyes widen: "Wait! Hold on! You... you're not..."
"I have an address," I say: "Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Let's try. The bodies are stored at low temperature, I should be able to handle it. Or rather - I'm sure it will work, the only question is, how much will the personalities be preserved? Memories... though that can be fixed too..."
"You... seriously?!"
"Well. You said yourself that Crystal and Aunt Sarah are grieving. And I'm not going to leave my body in the refrigerator, you can be sure of that. I can't fly yet, I need you. Get ready, we have a long night ahead, and that damn refrigerated warehouse is also guarded. You'll be participating in breaking and entering."
"Taylor!"
"No, well, you can always refuse, principles of heroism and all that," I raise my hands: "I'll get there myself. After all, it's more important to stay clean than..."
"Taylor, don't you dare! I'll go with you. Even if we have to break everything there, even if they arrest me later - I'm going with you!" she jumps to her feet, her cheeks burning, her eyes shining with feverish gleam: "If... if there's even a drop of hope! Uncle Neil and Eric, Aunt Sarah and Crystal... I'm with you! Just let it work, Taylor, please!"
"There you go, Vicky. That's how you become a villain. Come to the Dark Side, young padawan..."
"Taylor!"
"Okay, okay, let me grab a jacket and let's fly..."