“Considering you’re supposed to be some kind of crazy genius, I didn’t expect you to be so stupid,” Webmistress announced through the base’s intercom, moments after the working portion of the security system alerted her to the presence of the fugitive pair in the auxiliary tunnels.
“Yes, well, you forgot the crazy part of crazy genius,” Rhyme said. “And I could say some things about how stupid you’ve been, for being an alleged mastermind.”
“While the outer tunnels were heavily damaged when my security systems went haywire, the emergency passages are intact… true, they don’t have giant robotic security guards, but you just stepped right back onto my radar,” Webmistress said.
“Oh, golly, I should have stuck with my original plan of hiding out in a bombed out hallway,” Rhyme said. “I’m sure that would have kept working indefinitely.”
“It would work as well as anything else you can do,” Webmistress said. “No matter how much damage you do to my infrastructure, you’re still trapped in my web… and just like an insect, the more you thrash around, the more trapped you’ll become. There is no escape for you.”
“Actually, dear W.M., there is,” Rhyme said. “There always is. That’s the benefit of immortality, you see… you could imprison me for the rest of your life and I’d still get out eventually. And if I thrashed around enough to bring the whole place crashing down… well, that would be a bad day for you and all your little boy toys, but I’d just have to wait for someone to come along and dig me out. And unless an entire branch of the U.S. government is asleep at the switch, I’m guessing I wouldn’t be waiting long.”
“Wait,” Spinnerette said. “What about me?”
“Shut up, Janie!” both Rhyme and Webmistress said at the same time.
“Listen, you Neanderthal halfbreed,” Webmistress said. “If this place self-destructs, there isn’t going to be anything left to dig out… and there sure as hell isn’t going to be enough of you left to regenerate.”
“That’s an interesting theory,” Rhyme said. “And it’s almost worth putting to the test… almost. But just in case you’re actually right, there are few things I’d like to get done first, and it’s your lucky day: at the top of that list is the job you brought me here for.”
“If you think you’re getting near another one of my labs… you almost started another portal war with my old cell phone,” Webmistress said.
“You told me that was new when you gave it to me!” Spinnerette shouted at the ceiling.
“I said refurbished, and it was,” Webmistress said. “You wanted a smart phone and you got one. What more do you want?”
“A little recognition for a job well done, maybe,” Spinnerette said.
“Janie… after so many years of putting up with your shit, I’m not sure I would recognize a job well done if I saw it at this point,” Webmistress said. “I mean, I’ve heard of them, but I can’t remember if I’ve ever seen one… can you tell me what I’d be looking for? A top secret microchip that isn’t blown all to hell by static electricity, maybe? A captive who arrives with the same number of fingers they had when they departed, perhaps?”
“I got Rhyme here intact!” Spinnerette pointed out.
“She regenerates,” Webmistress said. “Which is a good thing, since you shot her en route. Also, that worked out so well for me.”
“Well, what about all those diamonds I got you?”
“I needed the largest diamonds of every color,” Webmistress said. “You got me, what? Five of them?”
“So that’s five jobs I did right!”
“That’s one job you did half-assed,” Webmistress said. “Christ, you don’t get credit for every single step in a plan, Janie, that’s just not how it works. Do you want a completion bonus for tying your shoelaces before you go on a mission? Oh, wait… your boots are pull-ons!”
“You designed my outfit,” Spinnerette said. “And anyway, I don’t care… I don’t.”
“Oh, of course you don’t.”
“I don’t!” Spinnerette said. “Because I’m with Rhyme now, and she appreciates me… she understands me. She loves me.”
“Are you retarded or something?” Webmistress asked. “I mean, is this congenital? Because that’s like the laziest psychological manipulation… I mean, we’re talking like Hannibal Lecter versus Lenny from Of Mice And Men here, you know?”
“Don’t you dare mock our love,” Spinnerette said. “Tell her, Rhyme!” She looked around the dim corridor and realized she was alone. Webmistress, jarred to alertness by the sudden silence, looked at the security monitor and realized the same thing.
“Oh, shit,” both women said at the same time.
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