“You’ll have to explain how all that happened at a later date.  Jack’s good at fucking with people’s heads.  It could still be a trap.”

Alright, looks like she’s sticking to her side.

“It could.”

“But?”

“I’ve got this feeling in my gut, like I had when I was around Jack and Bonesaw, and I wish I’d trusted it then.  I don’t want to doubt it now.”

Ahh. Just don’t go the other way and get overconfident in it.

Hmm. Maybe the amount of people in there, real and/or fake, is meant to dissuade attacks?

“A gut feeling?”

I nodded, once.

Admittedly, Taylor’s gut has been right before.

She sighed.  “What can I do?”

“Get out of here.  I don’t want to hurt you if I fall under Cherish’s control, which is supposed to be pretty short-lived.  In case she plans to make it more long-term, maybe call the PRT director and arrange a firebomb if I don’t report back?”

Yikes. Taylor is asking Lisa to arrange for her to very likely get killed if she’s compromised.

Tattletale made a face.  “This is dumb.”

“I’ve done dumb things.  I somehow don’t feel like this is one of them.”

The possibility that Cherish is closer than they think and messing with Taylor’s head is still on the table, but it’s increasingly unclear whether she’d be pushing Taylor towards attacking or away from it.

“That’s not your real reason.”

There is also the whole end of the world thing, but that’s not what this is about either, is it.

Hm…

Guilt over getting fooled by the Nine earlier?

“And I feel like something’s wrong.  The details don’t jibe.”

“That’s a less than stellar reason to put yourself at that kind of risk.”

It’s actually a damn good reason not to.

“There’s a chance Siberian isn’t here, or isn’t in a state to defend her allies.  But… I can’t bring myself to attack.”

…

Is Cherish actually within range?

But if she’s closer to Taylor’s current position, why would she keep Taylor from attacking the people or fake people in the ship?

“This is a shitty time to have an attack of conscience.”

I don’t trust that that’s what it is.

“You sound like Jack.  He tried to push me to kill while I thought he was Grue.”

Oof.

But… this seems like a slight overreaction to what Lisa said. And Lisa’s line sounds like she’s about to start arguing for the opposite side to what she was just arguing for.

How much is Cherish messing with them, and to what end?

“She’s resting.”

“You think.”

Resting, or sleeping? There’s a big difference here.

“Not sure which person she is, but her breathing is really regular, has been for a while.”

Yeah, but is that because it’s restful, or because it’s fake?

“And she could be faking it, a hundred percent aware that you’re thinking what you’re thinking.”

“Yeah,” I admitted.

Another good point.

“Why are you so fixated on this?  On going in?”

“I want to end this.”

That’s really all Taylor has wanted for a while.

Another point towards at least some of the people in there being fake: Jack didn’t seem to be aware of Mannequin’s supposed death, which would be why there’d be a fake of him in there even if he did die.

“They’re napping or something,” I said.

“Could be baiting you.”

The exact species of the worm is unclear, but it’s clearly attached to a hook of some variety.

“That’s what I was thinking.”

“And Bentley’s getting too small to help me make an exit.”

Things are really leaning towards “don’t poke the hornet’s nest” here.

“Atlas can manage with just me,” I told her.

“Going alone?  No.  Grue would kill me.  It’s senseless.

Heh, he would.

I can call Coil, so we can get a squad of soldiers in place to try and take someone out.  Or maybe we get the Director to bomb the area.”

I’m not sure they have any bombs left. And that’s a very… collateral damagey plan. Though I suppose not a lot of civilians live up here.

As for the soldiers, they’d probably take too long and not be able to do much against most of the people in there, as badass as they might be.

“Because that’s worked so well this far.”

Tattletale smiled a little.  “What would you rather do?  Going in is suicide.  You’d be opening yourself up to Cherish’s power.”

Not to mention all the other killers who are supposedly in there.

“Maybe Cherish took control?” Tattletale ventured.

Hm, I suppose she might have. But it still doesn’t feel quite right. If she could do that to them so effectively, why didn’t she do it before?

It was a scary thought.  The Nine were strong, and one of the only reasons they weren’t a bigger problem was that they were their own worst enemies.  Most of our victories to date had been because we exploited their character weaknesses.  Under a leader…

I mean, that’s exactly what Jack brings to the team. Just in a more mundane way.

“No.  Bonesaw took measures.”

Yeah, sounds about right.

“Maybe Cherish found a way around it?”

I didn’t have a response for that.  Minutes passed, and the Nine lapsed into silence.  Some were resting.  Or pretending to rest.

Something is definitely fucky, at least. That much is sure.

It unsettled me that Jack wasn’t taking more of a lead in the conversation.  Maybe Cherish was just dishing out the dirt?

Maybe.

This just makes it look even more suspicious.

So what’s on your mind, Jack?

“The dynamic seems wrong,” I said.  “Something’s off.  Not sure if Siberian’s present or not, Bonesaw’s quiet and Jack is mute.”

…what if Jack isn’t there? What if that’s a separate form for the Monochrome, outfitted with knives to fool Taylor?

And then there’s Mannequin. Is he really alive, or is this a fake?

Are they all fake?

Three women, none of whom were Siberian if I accounted for the presence of clothing and the texture of their skin.

Alright, if the Monochrome isn’t out, we seem to have an excess woman here.

…

I need to count over this again.

Three men: Mannequin, Jack, Siberian

Three women and a girl: Bonesaw, Cherish… apparently not Siberian… 

We need two more women.

Well, they’re clearly not among the nominees. The female nominees were Rachel, Amy, Noelle and maybe an unspecified pony. I don’t think any of them qualify as “women” rather than “girls” as far as Taylor’s bug sense is concerned, and Rachel and Amy definitely aren’t in there.

Maybe they’re Protectorate members? Or hostages and/or Bonesaw victims?

Rounding out the group was a little girl with long hair.  One of the women was doing most of the talking.

Cherish, I suppose.

Actually, I suppose if she’s a woman as far as Taylor’s concerned, these other three might be too. It is possible Noelle is among them, then. Though they’d have to break into Coil’s place in order to do that, which they definitely didn’t do before tricking Taylor and meeting with Amy (Coil would be way less composed – also, no time) and certainly had no time to do after.

…it’s a really good thing the miasma would have a hard time getting to Noelle.

Would that be Shatterbird or Cherish?  Who was the third?  Had the Nine gotten their hands on Noelle?

And yeah, I forgot to mention it, but it did occur to me a little bit back that Shatterbird might’ve gotten away from Alec and rejoined the team (likely being protected from the miasma the same way Bonesaw and Jack were).

It was also the easiest thing to provide.

Yeah, I already said that.

“You have eyes on them?”

“Minimal.  My interpretation via the swarm’s eyes and ears is still garbage, as always.  And I didn’t want to have so many around them that they get suspicious.”

That’s fair.

“Can’t make out what they’re saying?”

I shook my head.  Still, I could tell that they were talking.

Seven of them.  One of the men was garbed in smooth body armor that covered everything.  Mannequin.

Ah, fuck. Lisa was right.

There was another man who could have been Siberian’s real self or Hookwolf.  Long haired, shirtless.

…hmm.

Hm.

Mh?

Oh. “could have been”. I managed to read that as “couldn’t have been”, so I was trying to figure out who else it’d be.

My bugs traced the edges of knives at one man’s belt: He was the quietest, and was pacing without cease, sitting down, then pacing again.  Jack.

He sounds frustrated. What is he pondering?

Or maybe he’s just bored and restless here? Even though it can’t have been long since he arrived.