Ray and Claire made faint, grunting noises. I translated. “You’re not?”
Mourning Dove pointed past me. I looked, and saw the cat I’d used for a sample pawing at the airlock door. It was also black, but far less pretty than my creation.
I still felt woozy. The thing behind the security door boomed again, twice, but Mourning Dove ignored it. She had a voice like a terminal cigarette smoker. “You let the cat go. You broke into and exposed a criminal facility, let the animals go, let the staff go, and even let the guards go. That’s what any hero would have done.”
I gaped at her. Mourning Dove, the vampire, the heroine with a habit of ‘accidentally’ killing villains who had gone too far, was going to be our chance to finally change sides?
Claire and Ray managed to push themselves up onto their elbows. The security door banged again, louder than before. “You kids had better get ready for action,” Mourning Dove rasped.
“What’s back there?” Claire asked groggily.
“The thing I came for.”
The door banged again, so hard the wall shook.
The next blow knocked the door and most of the wall down, and a huge, hairy man staggered into the room.
Was that Bull? The little room I could see behind the door was filled with broken restraints. Happy Days had kidnapped Bull and kept him locked up?
No, this wasn’t Bull. Bull was, like, eight feet tall. This thing was big, but not Bull big. Bull didn’t have a hunch, one shoulder bigger than the other, and a lumpy face. Bull didn’t leave wet globs of hair behind when he took a step.
Bull didn’t have laser vision, so strong it lit up beams in the dusty air and charred an arc across the floor near Mourning Dove and up the wall.
Mourning Dove moved. It swung at her as she stepped up in front, but she ducked under the monster’s slow punch and jumped up onto its bulbous shoulder.
It lurched back and slammed her into the remains of the wall. Mourning Dove let go and fell off the monster’s back.
Ray and Claire were still too weak to help, having trouble climbing to their feet. I pointed my psychic cat at the monster and yelled, “Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop!”
My head was muzzy. The cat’s meows came out as whimpers. The hairy man beast still paused, staring at me as the psychic commands confused what little intellect it had.
Mourning Dove jumped to her feet, slipped in front of it, and grabbed the monster by the throat. It lifted its fists, but I commanded, “Stop!” again. It hesitated.
Fatally.
The lab suddenly smelled like an ancient attic, like dust and rotting wood and nameless organic filth. The monster shrank, withering inside its own skin. Its hairy beast hide turned grey, and it kept shrinking like a deflating balloon. When Mourning Dove let go, what fell to the floor looked like a disgusting humanoid raisin.
And that, folks, was why everybody was terrified of Mourning Dove. The stiff, clay muscle sensation had been entirely replaced by ice running through my veins.
“You killed him!” I squeaked. Oh, criminy. Think before you do that, Penny! Do not backtalk the murderous vampire!
The murderous vampire turned and looked at me. Despite her stiff, cold expression, she did not immediately drain me into a withered corpse. “It was never alive in the first place.” Was that a hint of guilt or sadness in her croaking voice, or did I just want to hear that?
In a weak mumble, Ray asked, “Someone is trying to clone superhumans again?”
Claire sounded raspier than Mourning Dove, but she joined the conversation anyway. “She’s right, Penny. They live two, three days, tops. It never works.” Remember to add the ‘Bad’ to that ‘Penny’, Claire, okay?
The monster had been disintegrating into globs as I watched. That was true. I would have to let this one go.
“They can do a lot of damage in three days. That clone would have been a prototype to make better, more destructive clones. I came here to stop that research. The Inscrutable Machine helped,” Mourning Dove lectured. It felt like a school lecture, with us sitting weakly on the floor, being told about how to be superheroes.
Superheroes. Claire had the same thought. “You’re really going to tell everyone we’re heroes?”
There was definitely emotion behind the half-second pause before Mourning Dove answered. “If they’ll listen. You’re not the only ones with that problem.”
That seemed to be it for the lesson. Mourning Dove turned and walked into the airlock. She paused at the inner door, standing right over me. Bloodshot eyes looked down, studying me. Her croaking voice low, in an awkward attempt to be gentle, Mourning Dove offered, “It will turn against you one day. I can kill it for you now, while it’s still safe.”
I clutched my new bioweapon to my chest. “What? No! It can’t turn against me. It can’t think at all.”
She pointed at my symbiotic kitty. “Not that.” Her finger lifted, pointing at my head. At the back of my head. “That.”
My mouth hung open, but I couldn’t say anything. I shook my head instead.
Mourning Dove kept watching me long enough to take a deep, sad breath. Then she turned, stepped over my prostrate body, and walked out. The airlock door closed, blocking her from view.
Claire climbed delicately to her feet. “Well, she was creepy.”
Ray stood up with apparent enviable ease. He tried dusting off his sleeves, but there was too much plaster in the air. “Professionally creepy. Nobody does it better, not even She Who Wots. Psychic cat, huh?”
I perked up. “Yeah!” My creation meowed my sense of triumph as I climbed to my own feet. My muscles ached. I would be taking it easy on the way home.
I cuddled my psychic kitty to my chest, stroking its fur. Claire scratched the top of its head, which felt kinda weird. “Are you going to name it?”
“Oh, yeah. It’s my black cat familiar, so I was thinking Ariel. Or maybe Aloysius. Something like that.”
I was going to regret having to leave this beauty in my lab, since I couldn’t possibly take her home. That was fine. I’d gotten the weapon and the adventure I wanted, and if I was really lucky, in a few days I’d be able to come clean to my parents as a hero!
f course, I had to go back to school on Monday. With a superpowered adventure fresh in my memory, it wasn’t too bad.
It all still felt pointless. I sat in Science class, fiddling with glass tubes and learning how to titrate. Every drop splashed a little more blue in my beaker of pink liquid. When it turned green, I would have measured the fraction of a milliliter required to neutralize an acid.
Yes, it was great how primitive equipment could produce sophisticated results. Yes, was a useful skill for anyone who wanted to go into science. Except me. My superpower could measure ingredients down to a few molecules.
Down the table, Ray showed off by using our measurements to calculate how strong the acids and bases we used were. We didn’t know what M meant, but he could write out an equation as if M were just another number. I probably could have figured it out myself. Probably.
Still, wouldn’t it be better to use my superpower? This whole thing was so inexact. How was I expected to measure fractions of a drop? I needed a device to do that for me. As the base poured out, the tube changed, and that could affect a balance…
The end of class bell rang, bringing me to my senses. I found myself holding a glass pipe with metal forceps, keeping it steady as hot, gummy rubber cooled into place.
Everybody was staring at me. Ray had abandoned his calculations, leaning over the table with his chin propped on folded hands. Pointing at the framework of glass pipes I’d built, he asked, “Having fun making us all look like pathetic mortal simpletons?” This was Ray, of course, so his sarcasm dripped affection, not resentment.
“Don’t miss your next class, Penelope,” Mr. Zwelf told me. Told all of us. Everybody had stopped to watch my superpower do its stuff.
Oh, Tesla’s Ridiculous Moustache. Please tell me I didn’t giggle maniacally this time.
I had a great way to stop worrying about that. I grabbed my backpack and ran to History class.
Distracted by invading a badly managed bioweapons lab and then cooing over my own adorable psychic kitty weapon, I’d kinda forgotten to do my homework this weekend. I wasn’t in danger of zeros, but for once, I had to listen in History class.
Following up on last week’s discovery of the New World, today Mr. Ret laid out the cruel, tragic, and hilarious story of the Aztec Empire. It must have been hard to keep a straight face as he told us that the other Central American nations took Cortez’s side against the Aztecs. Cortez and the Spanish Empire were pretty bad, but they didn’t feed human hearts on a daily basis to a centuries-old insane god king.
Cortez brought a few hundred men. Against an entire empire, he wouldn’t stand a chance. He was a vicious, ruthless man on the run from the authorities in Cuba, and he relied upon a network of rebels to get him close enough for his rifles and precious, limited supplies of ammunition to take down Huichtilopochtli.
At that point, I raised my hand. I didn’t interrupt often, which probably explained Mr. Ret’s amused tone. “Miss Akk?”
“So what you’re saying is, the fall of the Aztec Empire was a continent-sized gang war between a supervillain and a criminal mastermind’s army of minions?” I tried really, really hard not to sound sarcastic.
I must have succeeded. Mr. Ret fought an obviously losing battle against a grin as he answered, “Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it, Miss Akk.”
Everybody sniggered, and that got me through History class.
Ray and Claire fell in on either side of me the moment I stepped out in the hallway.
Still snickering, Ray waved his hands grandly and monologued, “Fools! Your arrows and blow darts cannot harm me! Only… nooooo! Not high velocity balls of lead!”
“How can you be so happy?” Claire snapped back at him. “We met Mourning Dove and forgot to ask for her autograph!”
Ray stared at her for five seconds, then slapped his forehead. He conceded that Claire’s topic was more important by leaning over and gushing, “When she grabbed Penny by the throat, I really thought we were going to die.”
“We could be overheard, guys!” My scolding tone had absolutely no effect.
Claire grinned right past me, a cat’s worth of sly voice and teasing grin. “Really? Because what I saw was you so mad someone touched Penny that you walked into cute ground zero and didn’t notice.”
Was Claire trying to make me blush so hard I’d shut up? Because it was working.
Even Ray changed the subject. “She would have taken me to the cleaners. She did take me to the cleaners. I hope Lucy got out okay.”
Claire flapped a dismissive hand. “I emailed her later. They didn’t even see each other.”
“We’d have died without us ever knowing she was there if she hadn’t liked us.” Ray sounded pleased and impressed rather than terrified. My minions were crazy.
Totally crazy. Maybe it’s just because Claire didn’t remember a reanimated corpse’s fingers locked around her neck that she could argue about it so happily. “Don’t be so sure. She doesn’t break out the nuke often. She has to eat immediately afterwards. You saw her suck that clone dry.”
At which point, we reached the English class. “Squee later. Academics now.”
‘Academics now’ was easier said than done. Mrs. Harpy was still on the subject of oral histories, and why Beowulf and the Iliad were as much genealogy lists as stories. The basic concept wasn’t hard to understand, but I tried to pay attention. I did.
It just got really hard to pay attention when nobody else was. Now the rest of the room was giving me the same covert, suspicious stares I gave them on Thursday. Wild-haired boy and the girl who threw off sparks certainly did, while more sparks rolled around her glasses. Marcia practically looked like she’d take my head off.
This wasn’t hard to figure out. I’d shown off my superpower in first period. All the other kids had to keep their powers secret. Whatever they felt about me going all Tesla in Science class, they must have felt a lot of it.
Which suggested that most or all of the kids giving me the eye had superpowers. That included Marcel, and Sidney, and Eshe, and one of the girls that always hangs out with Marcia, and the girl with the dark skin and bright red hair, and the big guy, and…
More than half the class gave me looks ranging from admiring to wistful to angry. I felt like a bug in a glass, and I wasn’t sure if I liked it or not.
I certainly felt relieved when the lunch bell rang. Still, the one person who hadn’t been staring at me during English class was the one person I absolutely knew had superpowers, and the person I really wished I got along better with: Claudia.
Seeing Claudia was different after meeting Mourning Dove. They were both totally serious about fighting evil, and they both had terrifying powers but still fought by stealth to wring every last advantage out of a fight. If it were possible for a cyborg zombie like Mourning Dove to have children, I’d wonder if Claudia was her daughter.
Mourning Dove had recognized we weren’t bad guys. I had to keep trying with Claudia.
With that in mind, the first thing I did when I walked into the cafeteria was stop at Claudia’s table. She sat all alone, so we weren’t likely to be overheard. I didn’t take a seat, but I did put my lunchbox down on the metal tabletop and lean over to say…
What?
I blurted out the first thing on my mind. “What do you think of Mourning Dove?”
She gave me a guarded stare, not quite blank. Her voice conveyed the same emotion, flat and just a bit suspicious. “So you were there.”
“She reminded me a lot of you.”
I’d meant it as a compliment, but the moment the words came out of my mouth, I knew I’d messed up. Claudia’s expression didn’t change, but her arms and shoulders trembled. Her answer came more bleakly emotionless than ever. “I don’t kill people.”
“That wasn’t what I meant…”
Claudia wasn’t listening. She picked up a spoon, her dark eyes staring up at me in disgust. “Your power is cute and fun, Penelope. I have to work day and night not to kill people, not to destroy everything I touch.” She bent the spoon in her fingers, mashing it into her palm, and then dropped the lumpy, rolled up ball of metal into her empty milk carton. No one else noticed. She might as well have been squishing a french fry. “I try. She doesn’t.”
So much power. “Criminy. Did you inherit that? Is your dad a superhero?”
I’d meant to ask about her mom too, but I didn’t get the chance. Claudia interrupted me. “Everyone tells me not to get personal. If it’s none of my business who Bad Penny’s parents are, it’s none of your business who my father is.”
I stammered, “I’m not trying to get personal. I mean, I am, but in the normal way. We could be friends, Claudia.”
She picked up her fork, and went back to eating mashed potatoes, not looking at me at all. Her expression had turned colder than ever. No, that was wrong. Now her cheeks were flushed. She looked like I’d punched her in the face, except I’d break my fist trying that.
I picked up my lunchbox and moved on. This had been about the same as the last couple of times I’d tried to make friends with Claudia, only this time the subject had been superpowers.
“Struck out again?” Ray asked as I sat down at our table.
I nodded.
“Then let me be the first to change the subject,” said Claire, her voice airy and sweet, and her eyes sharp with mischief.
I waved one hand while the other set my lunch box to unfolding. “I’ve had enough talking about Mourning Dove.”
Claire just grinned wider. I could tell by her pale hair that she had her power completely turned off. She leaned forward, spinning her spoon in her fingers and looking like a snake about to strike. “Not that. I’ve been wondering all morning why the change in wardrobe.”
Oh, criminy buckets. I tho
ught I’d been smooth! I thought nobody had noticed! No, I didn’t normally wear dress shirts with a sweatervest over them, but it’s not like I looked bad. If Claire noticed, Mom had noticed last night AND yesterday AND this morning. Guaranteed.
My face hurt. They could both see me blushing. Maybe that would hide the mark, make things not look as bad.
I had to stop procrastinating. There was no point in waiting until Claire specifically pointed out that this outfit gave me a high, concealing collar. I leaned forward, and with one finger pulled the collar down a couple of inches.
Of course, before I could offer any explanation Claire squealed, “Is that a hickey?!”
With supreme effort, I kept my forehead from collapsing onto the table. Someone had to have heard that!
No, the lunchroom was really noisy. Nobody could hear anything at another table. I hoped. I hoped so bad. I put both my hands on the tabletop, and made myself look up. Claire was giving Ray exactly the gleefully knowing look I’d been afraid of. Ray just had his eyebrows raised.
Please, Tesla, please let them both believe me. “No! Not really. It’s from Archimedes.” I’d decided that was a good name for a mad scientist’s familiar/psychic cat symbiote. “He doesn’t eat. He barely breathes. He hibernates when I take him off. When he’s connected, he doesn’t just read my nervous system, he filters oxygen and nutrients from my blood.” Along with the name, I’d decided he was male. It was just a label. If it wasn’t, I didn’t want to check and find out.
Thank goodness. Claire believed me. She sank back into her seat with a sullen, “Awww.” Ray did too, but then I couldn’t imagine who he might think I was cheating on him with.
I noticed something else. “Which must be why I’m starving.” I dug into the bland, lukewarm lunch my mother had packed as if it were ambrosia.
I ended up staying a couple of minutes after the bell to stuff every last crumb of food down my craw, and had to run at top speed across the street to Geometry class, where… I learned things. Things about volumes of shapes.
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