<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" standalone="yes"?><oembed><version><![CDATA[1.0]]></version><provider_name><![CDATA[Worm]]></provider_name><provider_url><![CDATA[https://parahumans.wordpress.com]]></provider_url><author_name><![CDATA[wildbow]]></author_name><author_url><![CDATA[https://parahumans.wordpress.com/author/wildbow/]]></author_url><title><![CDATA[Agitation 3.5]]></title><type><![CDATA[link]]></type><html><![CDATA[<p><a title="Last Chapter" href="https://parahumans.wordpress.com/2011/08/20/agitation-3-4/">Last Chapter</a>                                                                                                <a title="Next Chapter" href="https://parahumans.wordpress.com/2011/08/27/agitation-3-6/">Next Chapter</a></p>
<p>&#8220;A favor,&#8221; he answered me, as if he needed to say it out loud to himself to believe it.  The tone gave me pause.  Had I misread him, that first night, when I gave him credit for Lung and assumed he was grateful?</p>
<p>&#8220;Yeah,&#8221; I tried to sound confident, &#8220;But I should explain things first.  First off, the Undersiders offered me a spot on their team.  I took it.&#8221;</p>
<p>His reaction was subtle.  His chin rose a fraction, he shifted his weight fractionally, and  the grip of his armored gauntlets tightened enough on his Halberd to make a faint metal-on-metal screech.</p>
<p>&#8220;I think you&#8217;d better start making sense, fast,&#8221; he spoke in a calm voice, even as his body language was making me want to back away.</p>
<p>I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves, &#8220;I&#8217;ve been thinking a fair bit about the conversation we had last Sunday.  It seemed odd how you accepted I was a good guy as fast as you did.  Would I be right in guessing you either have a lie detector built into your helmet or some power that works more or less the same way?&#8221;</p>
<p>He didn&#8217;t hurry to give me a reply, taking a few moments before telling me, &#8220;Lie detectors can be fooled, even mine.&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Well, tell me if anything sets an alarm ringing, or if your instincts tell you I&#8217;m lying.  I was a good guy then, I&#8217;m a good guy now.  I joined the Undersiders because you said you were having trouble getting info on the guys.  Now I know their faces, I know the names they&#8217;re using, I have a pretty good idea about what their powers do, and I know where they&#8217;re living.&#8221;</p>
<p>His posture relaxed.  He slapped the pole of his Halberd against his back and it snapped into place.  &#8220;If that&#8217;s the case, then you&#8217;ve done us a great service.  Would you be willing to come to the Protectorate Headquarters and present that information to the team?&#8221;</p>
<p>My heart leapt.  Meeting the local Protectorate, with Miss Militia, Triumph, Velocity, Dauntless, Battery and Assault?  I could imagine seeing their reactions to everything I&#8217;d found, telling them about my fight with Bitch, maybe about my part in the fight with Lung, if Armsmaster was cool with that.  Hearing their stories in turn.</p>
<p>&#8220;I can&#8217;t.&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Why not?&#8221; his response was so quick it was very nearly an interruption.  His tone and posture were both hostile again in a flash.  I was glad he wasn&#8217;t still holding his Halberd, because I think he might have pointed it at me.</p>
<p>&#8220;There&#8217;s one more thing I need to find out for you,&#8221; I said, raising my hands in a sort of surrender.  I needed to find out who their boss was.  I couldn&#8217;t tell him that, though.  The less he knew, the less likely Tattletale would know I told him anything.  At least, I was hoping that was the case.</p>
<p>&#8220;So tell me what you know and then go find that last detail.&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;I can&#8217;t,&#8221; I answered for the second time in ten seconds, hating myself for doing it.</p>
<p>&#8220;You&#8217;d better have a good reason, or I&#8217;m dragging you to the PHQ and we&#8217;ll see how well you tease when you&#8217;re in front of the entire team.&#8221;</p>
<p>Which would be a disaster.  I swallowed hard, &#8220;What if I told you there was a spy in the PHQ?&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;You&#8217;d be setting off the lie detector.  Try again.&#8221;</p>
<p>I bit my lip.  I&#8217;d been hoping that phrasing it as a question would throw it off.</p>
<p>&#8220;There&#8217;s something at play that&#8217;s for all intents and purposes, a spy in your ranks.&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Mostly true.  What is it?&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;I can&#8217;t be any clearer without them figuring out I told.  Just my being here is really risky.&#8221;  If word got out as to how Lisa&#8217;s power worked, I was almost positive she&#8217;d know how.</p>
<p>He stared at me for several long moments, &#8220;The Tattletale girl.&#8221;</p>
<p>Armsmaster had come to the conclusion more or less on his own.  I hoped that was enough to keep Tattletale from drawing a connection to me.  Still&#8230; fuck.</p>
<p>He stared off towards the PHQ for a few long moments.  Without looking at me, he asked, &#8220;So you&#8217;re not willing to provide any concrete information.  Why did you call me?&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;They&#8217;re planning something.  They want me to help them.  I do this, maybe one or two other jobs, I&#8217;m sure I can get that last essential detail, and you&#8217;ll have what you need to capture these guys.&#8221;</p>
<p>He didn&#8217;t reply.</p>
<p>So I asked my favor, &#8220;I need to know that if things go sour or if I need to sabotage their plan, I&#8217;ll have you to pull my ass out of the fire and keep me out of jail.&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;What are they planning?&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;I can&#8217;t say,&#8221; I admitted.  If I told him, Lisa might know I&#8217;d ratted the team out from any changes in the response time, extra guards or whatever else.  However justified my silence was, I could see Armsmaster getting increasingly irritated.</p>
<p>&#8220;Is it murder?  Is someone going to get hurt?&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;No,&#8221; I said, &#8220;I&#8217;m pretty sure no civilians are going to get hurt, unless things go really wrong, which is something I&#8217;m hoping to prevent.&#8221;</p>
<p>He frowned, then stopped gazing out the window to look straight at me. &#8220;I&#8217;m not giving you any protection.&#8221;</p>
<p>I clenched my fists at my sides, &#8220;This is the only thing I need, and you&#8217;ve got them!&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;You&#8217;re a stupid girl,&#8221; Armsmaster said.  He gave me a moment to let the words sink in.</p>
<p>&#8220;I-&#8221;</p>
<p>He didn&#8217;t give me a chance to speak.  He bowled over me, his voice rising as he spoke, &#8220;You&#8217;re asking for my permission to carry out a major crime.  At least, I assume it&#8217;s a major crime, because you wouldn&#8217;t be asking otherwise!  You want me to stand by so you can play your little spy game with a team that has two murderers on it!&#8221;</p>
<p>Two?  I could believe that Rachel had maybe killed someone at some point, manslaughter if nothing else, but who else would?  Eyes wide, I asked him, &#8220;Who-&#8221;</p>
<p>I didn&#8217;t get to finish my question.  Armsmaster talked over me until I shut my mouth and listened.  &#8220;Do you think you&#8217;re clever?  In the real world, undercover cops have handlers.  They have someone to report to, someone that can call in backup at any time.  You?  You&#8217;re a middle schooler with delusions of grandeur.&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m not in middle school.&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Oh, well,&#8221; he crossed his arms, &#8220;I stand corrected on all counts.&#8221; The sarcasm in his voice was palpable.</p>
<p>I protested, &#8220;And if I did have back-up or a handler or anything like that, they&#8217;d <em>know</em>.  The way I&#8217;m doing this is the only way this could work.  Use your lie detector, you&#8217;ll know I&#8217;m telling the truth about this.&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;I know you <em>believe</em> you&#8217;re right.  That doesn&#8217;t make it god&#8217;s honest truth.&#8221;</p>
<p>There was something about hearing all this from Armsmaster that made it twice as hard to take.  I opened my mouth, but my brain just couldn&#8217;t piece together a coherent response.  I shut my mouth again.</p>
<p>&#8220;Abandon this charade, little bug girl, before you bite off more than you can chew.  Tell me what you know, right now, then go home.  I don&#8217;t care if you put your costume away for good or if you sign up for the Wards, but don&#8217;t go on with the solo act.  That&#8217;s my recommendation.&#8221;</p>
<p>That stung.  I tried again, &#8220;I gave you Lung, full credit.  You can&#8217;t give me the benefit of a doubt?&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;You gave me a dying man!&#8221; Armsmaster bellowed, startling me, &#8220;That was on my shoulders!  I had to put up with two days of losing command of my team, two days where they confiscated my Halberd and power armor!  I was interrogated, all my equipment taken apart and checked!  All because <em>you</em> couldn&#8217;t resist using your bugs to give that man a fucking near-lethal dose of poisons!&#8221;</p>
<p>His attitude from the beginning of this meeting had been hostile.  Now I understood why.  I held my ground.</p>
<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s not my fault,&#8221; I told Armsmaster, my voice strained with anger.  I gave voice to a suspicion that had been nagging at the edge of my consciousness since I&#8217;d heard about Lung being hospitalized, &#8220;I didn&#8217;t dose him with enough venom to kill him.  What <em>I</em> think is that the tranquilizers that you pumped into his system knocked out his ability to heal, which is what let the poisons do as much damage as they did.&#8221;</p>
<p>We glared at each other, as much as people can exchange glares when they can&#8217;t see one another&#8217;s eyes.  Still, it wasn&#8217;t hard to imagine the expression on his face.</p>
<p>&#8220;If you contact me again, you&#8217;d better be prepared to answer every question I have.  Beyond that, I&#8217;m not condoning anything about what you&#8217;re trying to pull.  You&#8217;re on your own.&#8221;</p>
<p>I would have been happy to storm off, or offer my own angry parting words.  Except there was something else I needed from him.  On the assumption that he&#8217;d take me up on my offer, I thought I&#8217;d ask as a last, minor favor.  Now I was put in a situation where I might have to beg a man I really wanted to punch in the face.</p>
<p>&#8220;I-&#8221; I paused, trying to find the words, &#8220;I&#8217;m asking you to please not tell anyone we met tonight.  No records, on paper or computer.  Don&#8217;t do anything different because of what you learned tonight.  I know I can&#8217;t make you.  I don&#8217;t have anything to offer you, besides the information I&#8217;m going to get.  But if these guys get wind that I met you, it&#8217;s going to go really badly for me.&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;You made your bed.  You have to lie in it.&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;No,&#8221; I shook my head, furious he was being so mule headed.  My fists clenched, &#8220;Don&#8217;t toy with me here.  Maybe you don&#8217;t agree with what I&#8217;m doing, but I started this because I wanted to do <em>you</em> a favor.  The least you could do is not screw with me on this, and get me hurt or killed because your fucking rep got a smudge on it.&#8221;</p>
<p>I regretted my words as soon as they left my mouth, but I could hardly take them back.</p>
<p>&#8220;Fine,&#8221; he decided, then dismissed me, &#8220;You can go, now.&#8221;</p>
<p>It was a dick move, that last bit, because I was following his order if I listened and it made me look bad if I didn&#8217;t.  Still, if there was any upside to the bullying I&#8217;d endured out of costume, it was that I could handle the little maneuvers of bullies and assholes when I was in costume, too.  I left and didn&#8217;t think twice about it.</p>
<p>I was pissed, and it was a lot easier to be pissed at Armsmaster than it was to be angry with myself.  This hadn&#8217;t gone the way I&#8217;d planned.  I didn&#8217;t even know if that &#8216;fine&#8217; of his was an agreement to do as I&#8217;d asked, or if I was royally screwed the next time I went to meet with the Undersiders.  There were two ways I could respond to this.  I could either drop the plan and put away my costume like Armsmaster wanted, or I could pull off the undercover gig and prove him wrong.</p>
<p>Fuck it.  I was going to rob the hell out of that bank.  I&#8217;d win the trust of the Undersiders, I was going to figure out who was running the show, and then I was going to hand over all of the info.</p>
<p>To Miss Militia, I was thinking.  Not Armsmaster.</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
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