Sister Cities

Part 89: Vi

They'll put a gun into your hand and call you weak until you're violent

Don't believe it

They're hateful 'cause they're empty

________________________________________________________________________________

I find Powder sulking under our desk and coax her out. We take a shower and don't talk much until we're in bed, me combing her hair and her fiddling with a bomb she brought home from the lab, when I can't help asking, "What was that all about?"

An ominous ticking comes from the bomb. "What part?"

Fair— there's at least three separate things on my mind. "Let's start with the gun you somehow knew to bring to the ball."

"That's nothing," she says brightly. "Someone was bound to attack, so I made sure to have countermeasures."

"But how did you know someone was 'bound to attack' when no one else did? Why didn't you warn anybody?"

"I told Viktor, but he didn't believe me, and everyone else is stuffy politicians and good guys. I'm the only one who can think like a terrorist."

I pick at a tiny knot behind her ear. "Who were you planning to defend?"

"Whoever the attackers went after."

"Really? Even if it was Lumley?"

"Well..."

I snort. She giggles and kicks her legs out straight, sending a few bomb parts bouncing across the bedcovers. "You saved Ekko's life," I say, and feel her go tense for a split second. "And you helped save Caitlyn's. You'll be fine at your questioning tomorrow. Me and them will all vouch for you."

"Oh, I'm not worried about the trial," she says.

"You're not?" Her scars from Stillwater flash through my mind.

"Nah. They wouldn't dare lock me up. Viktor and me are single-handedly saving the Undercity. And Jayce Talis, I guess. Besides, we have a majority."

"No, I know they wouldn't arrest you. But what happened tonight with Caitlyn— even our side will agree something's got to change, and I don't know how you're gonna get caught up in the compromises. Most of them still don't trust you. They might want to make you a scapegoat."

"What, you think they're gonna come confiscate all my guns?" she says, still unconcerned. "Give me a pat-down whenever I leave a room?"

"I don't know. But I won't let them punish you for something you didn't do."

She works quietly for a moment, brewing something deep in her mind. I do the same.

Powder? What's—

Nothing!

Do you need—

No! Shut up!

At last, she asks, "Do you take me seriously?"

"Take you seriously how?"

"As a person. As someone who does things. In general."

"Yeah...? Of course I do," I say. I'm not worried about tip-toeing around her like I was before our big talk, but the combination of solemn tones and unpredictability stresses me out, no matter the source. "Why?"

"Do you take me seriously because I'm scary?"

"No," I say. "I take you seriously because you're capable. But that's always really obvious when you're being tricky or violent, so I think about it a lot then. Is that what you mean by 'scary'?"