Emigrants
Chapter One: Emigrants
Spider-Man was vaguely aware of what was happening around him. Between his Spider-Sense and the recent assault on his autonomy he was exhausted. He was fully aware that his attacker had tried to overrule the arachnid part of his genetics. To add insult to injury the Shocker was grinning happily even as New York’s finest arrived in force.
He greeted them warmly not expecting the courtesy to be returned in the slightest. “Good afternoon officers may I present one bound and tied Herman ‘shockingly hopeless’ Schultz.”
As he’d expected, the first cop to arrive drew his gun and aimed it at him. “You’re under arrest, freak!” Even as he spoke, three more police cars pulled in and a half dozen officers spilled out of them, rushing to their own support positions.
“What for, chief?” Spider-Man replied keeping his hands raised to show he was willing to co-operate but he could still feel the low hum of his Spider-Sense registered the increasing amount of weapons being pointed at him.
The Shocker seized his chance. “He’s gone crazy! First he came in all guns blazing and then after he had me trussed up he called up all the spiders! He said he’d have them deal the death of a thousand bites if I didn’t tell him what he wanted to know!”
The cop’s head turned to the Shocker who had a terrified expression on his face. The cop sniffed like he’d registered a bad smell but Schultz continued. “I’ll cooperate. I won’t resist arrest and I’ll agree to a plea bargain just as long as you get me away from this maniac!”
“Don’t believe a word of it officer, he’s playing you.” Spider-Man kept his tone calm and measured, but as his Spider-Sense rose in intensity he knew he’d lost here. He growled at the same time as he leapt skywards. “That’s the last time I go easy on you Shocker!”
As Spider-Man vanished into the bright New York sky, the officer brought his gun to bear but cursed. Opening fire upwards meant putting innocents in danger if he missed. He sighed and re-holstered his gun, “Alright, men, get Schultz here in the back.” The cop thumbed towards his prisoner whilst giving the villain a suspicious look.
“The gauntlets unlock just past the wrist.” The Shocker said as politely as he could, wriggling his arms as much as he could under the webbing that bound him.
“You’re coming quietly…” the arresting officer murmured.
“I already told you, he’s gone insane. You saw what he did. As far as I’m concerned the best place for me, is with you guys!”
As the cops pulled away with a very compliant and now cuffed Herman Schultz in the back seat, the villain smiled smugly. He’d settle for putting a cramp in the wall crawler’s day.
***
In the labyrinthine sewer system that ran Under New York two young women struggled onward, trudging along the slick paths. Aisha Laborn supported her friend as much as she could. The problem was that she was splitting her efforts between holding Tayor up and holding Taylor off, keeping her power active to make damned sure ‘Khepri’ couldn’t get a grip on her mind. Contolling her own power was a tricky business, especially now.
She resumed speaking, trying to coax Taylor back as best she could. “Your name is Taylor and you had a team.”
“My name is Taylor and I had a team…”
“We were the Undersiders of Brockton Bay.”
“We were the Under- Oh, of course, that’s why I use sewers.”
Imp blinked, but this seemed like good news to her. Part of Taylor was remembering who she was, although this would be the Taylor that escalated at the drop of a hat. Imp smiled slightly to herself, replying out loud. “Close enough for now, you need to rest. We barely made it into the sewers and I have a feeling it won’t be long before something comes after us. You know, business as usual…”
“That would be bad.”
“It wouldn’t be too good for us either.” Imp began, concluding that a semi conscious amnesiac Taylor working on instinct would escalate by habit alone, being chased on an unknown world which had capes of its own. “But right now we need to find somewhere nice and quiet and out of the way, and out of this sewer, before you catch an infection.”
“Follow arrows.” Even before the figment of Taylor’s imagination could answer, which meant she must be talking to herself, a swarm of tiny bodies either flitted or scurried under what little lighting the sewers had in the maintenance area, forming a marker. “Talking to self, but can talk, so talking to self is good thing. I is controlling swarm again but humans be missing from it. Where that power go?”
Aisha Laborn said nothing but continued half carrying, half dragging her friend onward, still exerting her own power. What she remained unaware of was that she wasn’t the only one deflecting Khepri.
***
Madame Web gasped for breath even as she fought to erect a mental barrier around the bombarded mind she had sensed earlier. If she could just wall off the part of her that was the being called ’Khepri’, then there was a chance to minimise the damage.
She sent out a telepathic call, sensing that Spider-Man had met the newcomer and knowing that this ‘Skitter’s’ power compromised him on multiple fronts. She was just grateful that Skitter wasn’t functioning at full power yet. It seemed that she was even wasting some of that on a non existent opponent.
***
Snapping out a web line as he felt the call, Spider-Man groaned. Not only had he just received the message to come to her from Madame Web, but the Daily Bugle was calling on him to explain what was going on. A few months ago he would have put it down to Jolly Jonah’s grudge, but these days the Bugle was run by Robbie Robertson. Robbie was a great improvement on his predecessor, but that didn’t mean he was going to give the spandex crowd free passes either.
“Well, first port of call is Madame Web, then the Daily Bugle, after that the Avengers and after that, with the way my luck works, the Great Lakes whatever-they’re-called-this-week…”
***
Taylor was sleeping, having somehow found an unoccupied utility room to hide in. The reason she had found it was currently watching her like a hawk, using what little first aid equipment she could find to tend her friend’s multiple injuries.
“Okay," Imp muttered, "we need supplies, information and as soon as we can, showers and a proper hideout.”
***
“Hello Spider-Man. I think we need to talk.” The electronic tones of the armoured Avenger known as Iron Man caught Spider-Man’s attention and he came to a stop, and perched on a flagpole.
“I’m a little busy heading to Madame Web, probably for the same reason you want to talk to me. Can we make this quick?”
“How about I give you a lift and you tell me as much as you can on the way?”
“That’s a good idea, just don’t try to enter when we get there.”
“Oh?”
“It’s a one on one issue and, well, let’s face it, you and magic just don’t go well together. Heck, not too long you and other heroes didn’t go well together.”
“Thanks for reminding me, webs. It’s not like I have people reminding me of that every five minutes.”
Spider-Man took up a position clinging to Iron Man’s back, held there by his powers. He cocked his head, following the now softer telepathic call from Madame Web even as he continued speaking with his sometime team mate “Yeah, well, those of us who got chased by SHIELD know how forgetful you can be.”
“Fine. But let’s concentrate on the present. What can you tell me about this new guy?”
“Not much. I was a bit busy trying to keep her out of my head.”
"So, it’s a her, and she can get into people’s heads. Sure you didn’t piss Wanda off… again?”
“Pissing people off is your job.”
“There you go then, you should leave it to the professionals. Now, to business… it sounds to me like we’re dealing with a telepath.” He paused. “ And she can either control bugs or you’ve been holding out.”
“I’ve not been holding out; This time.”
The tension between the two had eased but after the debacle of The Superhuman Registration Act and major public figures being revealed as having shot the Incredible Hulk into space, only to have him return more pissed off than usual, things were still tense.
For all his ego, Iron Man was no fool. As he touched down on the building Spider-Man indicated, the genius engineer was revisiting old counter methods he had conceived for Ant-Man going rogue. He looked at Spider-Man and said simply, “I’ll see you at Stark Tower.”
“Got it.” Spider-Man got the hint that if he didn’t turn up at the ostentatious tower then Iron Man wouldn’t be so accommodating the next time they met. He turned and headed to meet someone who he considered so damned cryptic she made Doctor Strange seem straightforward.
***
The Daily Bugle was buzzing with activity as Robbie Robertson sat in the editor’s office, his eyes fixed on the video footage that Phil Urich had video messaged him. That footage was now the main reason the Daily Bugle’s headline read, “Spider-Man: Talk to Us.”
He’d acted fast, taking the most neutral approach he could, but each time he saw the strange newcomer in the insectoid armour, he frowned. He rewound the footage again, staring intently at it and finally smiled as he realised what he’d been missing. Ben Urich’s amusement when Robbie asked him what he thought about this ‘Bug Guy’ made sense now. He rewound the footage again, looking for anything else he may have missed. He watched as the figure turned and he could see long wavy dark hair, and now he knew what he had been subconsciously looking for; hips.
Knowing Urich, he probably realised the moment he saw her. Lucky for me that I get to hand him the assignment. I just hope Spider-Man’s in a talkative--
Robbie stopped, and could only smile and shake his head at the idea of the hero not being in a talkative mood. The smile vanished a moment later, though, when Robbie reminded himself of what it meant when the hero stopped talking.
***#
Spider-Man made his way through the deceptive corridors. Madame Web had a list of people she would interact with and it was a short one. Spider-Man knew it included more than two names, but was nonetheless only really aware of himself and Doctor Strange being on it.
He took a few more steps before halting as his Spider-Sense began to tingle. He had a suspicion that he still would have known something was wrong without it. His fears were confirmed when he found Madame Webb sprawled on the floor her, her dark brown hair slick with sweat.
He blinked. He remembered her as an old woman, even more physically fragile than his own aunt. He moved his mask so his mouth was clear as he knelt down next to her.
“Madame Web, what happened?”
“Spider-Man? Good, you made it. I need you to listen very carefully.” With the hero’s help, she sat up.
“You look better.”
“Ah, of course. The riddle of my restored youth and health. It is a long story and not currently relevant.”
Spider-Man’s eyes narrowed behind his mask at her worse and he jabbed a finger in the clairvoyant’s direction. “Every time. Every damn time, always hiding things from me. If I didn’t think you knew more about this than you’re letting on, I’d let you rot!”
The enigmatic psychic didn’t answer for a moment, then let out a heavy breath. “I was too busy fighting something that would have been better left to the likes of Charles Xavier or Stephen Strange.”
"Then why didn’t you leave it to them?”
“Because if they had they lost, Peter, we all would have. I barely survived and my opponent wasn’t anywhere near full strength. If you’d felt any of it…”
Spider-Man leaned on a wall, thinking. “I’m pretty sure that I have done.”
Madame Webb looked at him and held out her hand. “It may help to compare experiences. Will you join me?”
Spider-Man looked at her sceptically and asked sourly, “Do I really have a choice?”
“You always have a choice.”
“And with you I’m pretty sure it’s always going to be the wrong one.” He took hold of her hand anyway, surprising the psychic with how gently he did so.