by Nick Place
‘Um, I’m kind of busy, Tomorrow Girl.’
‘Focus, this is important.’
‘I’ll bet it is. Did Princess Pinkstar break a fingernail?
Bye.’
‘Focus!’
‘Tomorrow Girl, not now!’
She leans in and I’ve never seen her look so serious. She looks more like a grown Hero than Cannonball’s little sister.
‘I know where he is and what’s he’s planning,’ she says.
‘What?’
‘I know where HE is and what HE’S planning and it’s not good.’
‘Tomorrow Girl,’ I hiss. ‘I haven’t got time for this. Go away.’
She shoves a piece of paper into my hand. ‘Fine. Be like that. I wrote it down. No need to thank me, fearless leader.’
And she stalks off.
I don’t even look at the paper, just jam it into a hidden pocket in my cape and smile weakly to Cyclone Tracy who has watched all this with a raised eyebrow. ‘She used to be in my team,’ I explain. ‘Cannonball’s sister . . . wants to play with the big boys.’
‘Uh-huh. Are you one of the big boys, Focus?’ Tracy says, again with that mischievous grin.
‘Um, on a good day,’ I stammer.
‘You had something you wanted to ask me?’ She’s still smiling. I can feel my visibility scrambling.
‘Um, I was wondering if, well, depending on how busy you –’ ‘Hey, isn’t that a friend of yours?’
‘What?’ I ask, scanning around the café, but she’s looking at the TV screen.
There’s a picture of Golden Boy behind the newsreader on Channel 78737.
‘Oh yeah, he is,’ I say casually. ‘You know, we’re pretty tight.’
‘Macklin, can you turn up the volume please?’ Cyclone Tracy yells to the café owner.
‘Sure,’ says the guy behind the counter and hits a remote.
SUPER NEWSREADER:
– olden Boy told Channel 78737 the Australian Federation of Hero Types is increasingly concerned . . .
The screen cuts to Golden boy with a microphone in front of him.
GOLDEN BOY: It’s very serious. This is the fourth time Southern Cross has collapsed and we now have documented evidence that Bushranger is behind it. This Villain has got to be stopped and fast.
SUPER NEWSREADER: Today’s incident happened when Southern Cross swooped in to protect a lowly ranked group of Heroes who found themselves up against Bushranger, an active Category 2 Villain who is believed to be S.T.O.M.P-powered to at least a Category 6.
The screen changes to vision of one of the G rl-Stars, chewing gum and with her arms folded across her chest, as the Super reporter interviews her.
PRINCESS PINKSTAR: It was, like, so unfair. We were, like, totally midway through a choreographed pre-battle dance routine, only moments before we were going to, like, move into our synchronised battle positions, when this guy in a big ugly, very unfashionable helmet just, like, totally kicks Tomorrow Girl in the back and she totally falls over.
The camera cuts to Tomorrow Girl who is looking quite serious.
TOMORROW GIRL: The next thing I know, I’m lying on the ground, hurting, but then Southern Cross arrives to save the day and we gave him a big G rl-Stars cheer. But, uh oh, the Bushranger pulls out a shiny star and whacks him with it – hard. Southern Cross fell like a stone. It was awful.
The screen shows a CCTV shot of Southern Cross buckling to his knees as Bushranger stabs him then runs from the scene. Golden Boy fills the screen again.
GOLDEN BOY: We’ve taken Southern Cross to a secret medical location where he remains in a serious but stable condition. I am very concerned that this is getting out of hand and I am helpless against this particular Villain because one foolish young Hero committed to a Knight-Hood Pact. We’re running out of time. I’ve already made my views clear to the young Hero in question. If this isn’t settled fast, we’re going to have to de-cape the Hero and sort Bushranger out. Southern Cross’s health is too important to sit on our gloves and do nothing.
SUPER NEWSREADER: In breaking news, Bushranger has announced he intends to keep attacking Southern Cross unless the AFHT meet his demands that the entire city of Melbourne be handed over to him to rule.
The screen changes to home-video quality vision showing Bushranger with trees swaying in time behind him.
BUSHRANGER: I will rule the world. And the only thing standing between me and absolute power is that puny little Blur-boy, Focus.
The screen cuts back to the Super Newsreader.
SUPER NEWSREADER: Focus is the leader of the ill-fated OK Team, but has not yet been found for comment on today’s developments. Bushranger has given city authorities until tomorrow at 12 noon, or he says Southern Cross dies. More on that story as it comes to hand.
In other news, Noolwang, a Super Frongle –
The café owner turns the sound back down and Cyclone Tracy and I stare at one another.
‘Focus, this is terrible.’
I’m on my feet and my visibility is all over the place.
‘I have to go.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘Find my Team. Find Bushranger. Stop him.’
‘How are you going to stop him?’
I’m honest with her. ‘I have no clue.’
‘Do you know where he is?’
‘Nope. Maybe Golden Boy can help.’
‘I think Golden Boy made it pretty clear where he stands,’ Tracy says. ‘Maybe you should stand down and let him sort this out, Focus.’
‘Be de-caped? End my career as a Superhero?’
‘This isn’t about you anymore, Focus. It’s about Southern Cross’s life.’
‘There has to be a way. I don’t like Southern Cross being in danger, but I’m sorry, Tracy. I can’t be de-caped. I can’t go back to life as a non-Hero. Did you hear that newsreader say “the ill-fated OK Team”?’
‘I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it,’ she says, not meeting my eyes. Then she stands too. ‘Listen, why don’t I consult the AFHT about how this can work. You get your Team together.’
‘Okay,’ I say. I’m in a daze. ‘See ya.’
Cyclone Tracy is gone and I barely notice.
I sit again, with my head in my hands. What if I can’t beat this S.T.O.M.P.-pumped baddie? What if Southern Cross dies because of me? How is Bushranger doing this to Southern Cross anyway?
There is a POP! next to me and a large cushion turns into a tall, handsome youth in a rainbow mask.
‘Switchy! How long have you been here?’
‘Long enough that I heard you almost ask Cyclone Tracy on a date!’ I blush and become even more blurry. ‘That doesn’t matter. You heard the news report. Switchy, you’ve got to help me!’
‘I don’t know if I can help because of your Pact,’ he says. ‘Anyway, you don’t need me.’
‘We don’t need you? Are you crazy? You’re five times more powerful than all of us put together.’
‘That’s not true,’ Switchy says. ‘What did Mr Fabulous teach us? Believe in yourself, yeah?’
‘But still . . .’
‘No buts. You can do it. Work as a team, use your natural abilities. You’ll whip ’em.’
‘I hope you’re right. I had better get to OK HQ.’
‘Focus?’ he asks.
‘Yeah.’
‘Were you really going to ask Cyclone Tracy out?’
‘Maybe . . . Switchy?’
‘Yeah.’
‘How did you get so powerful so fast? And how come you turned into a dog, instead of Switchy-as-a-dog?’
He looks at me. ‘What are you asking?’
‘I think you know what I’m asking. You’ve improved so much so fast. Is it just all the extra training with the Academy?’
Switchy’s face is hard, his eyes behind the rainbow mask glittering with anger.
‘I would never take S.T.O.M.P., Focus. If you beat Villains while on that stuff, you’re no better than them. You�
��d never know if you could genuinely beat them, or if the artificial enhancement gave you the edge. I want to be the best I can be, not the best some drug can make me be.’
‘Switchy, that’s such a relief.’
‘As for the dog thing, that was weird, but it’s been happening a bit lately. The Academy teachers say Heroes like you and me are still young enough that our powers aren’t necessarily set, that they shift around. We can lose control of them or they can develop a new branch. Apparently it settles down in your early twenties.’
‘Wow,’ I say. ‘I had no idea. I’m sorry I suspected you of S.T.O.M.P.’
‘That’s okay. My improvement has been pretty dramatic. And Focus . . . were you – blurry little you – really going to ask a total babe like Cyclone Tracy out on a date?’
‘I don’t want to talk about it. I have to go!’
‘I’ll fly you,’ he says. ‘Helicopter, fighter jet, hot-air balloon or magic carpet?’
CHAPTER 19
SHOWDOWN
The OK Team gathers at our old Scout Hall.
The Gamer’s energy bar on his chest now has a new level, gold, on top of the blue.
‘I just received an end-of-stage bonus,’ he explains.
‘It’s about time we had some good news,’ I say.
‘But the bad news is I am out of banana bonuses.’ We all nod politely, clueless about what that means.
Cannonball is beside himself about Tomorrow Girl being kicked to the ground by Bushranger. ‘All that stuff about never hitting anybody again? That’s out the window,’ he says. ‘In fact, I’m hoping somebody brings some S.T.O.M.P. so I can soup up and hit harder.’
‘No, Cannonball,’ says Torch. ‘Remember how good it felt when we beat Scorch and Moonface and saved Mr Fabulous, because we finally controlled our powers? I’d never felt so good. I actually directed a flame. I knew what I could be, even if my development has been slower than I’ve liked. But I’ve been training hard and I can do this . . .’
He concentrates and his entire head bursts into flame then goes back to normal.
‘Torch, that’s awesome!’ I say. ‘Full body flaming can’t be far away if you can do that.’
‘So we’re about to battle a S.T.O.M.P.ed-up Villain, potentially to the death, and I’m accompanied by a kid cloud, a walking computer game and a boy who can no longer wear hats.’ Cannonball crosses his arms and shakes his head.
‘What am I? A deck of cards?’ says Logi-Gal.
Cannonball’s face turns red. ‘No offence, Serious Insect, but you’re not going to be much help in a slugfest.’
‘Oh yeah?’ Logi-Gal looks smug. ‘We’ll see. Torch, have you got the gear?’
‘Sure have,’ he says, grinning, and I wonder what’s going on here. One thing is that Torch seems to have dropped the cocky act. Being able to set fire to your head must affect the way you look at the world.
Outside, a ferocious wind starts up and my heart skips a beat. I’m glad Switchy isn’t here to smirk at me as Cyclone Tracy walks in, looking grim.
‘I’m sorry, Focus, but the AFHT want you to step out,’ she says. ‘Southern Cross’s condition is worse. They want you to voluntarily de-cape within the hour.’
‘So I’ve got one hour to beat the S.T.O.M.P.-slurping helmet head!’ I say.
Logi-Gal shakes her head. ‘Focus, we don’t even know where to find him. He could be anywhere in the city. You’re going to have to let Golden Boy step in.’
I’m flipping in and out of visibility. My nose starts to run. I’m trying not to cry. I reach into a pocket in my cape for a tissue and pull out a piece of paper.
I read it and can’t speak.
‘What is it?’ The Gamer asks, seeing my face.
‘It’s from Tomorrow Girl. She gave it to me at the café.’
‘What does it say?’ Cannonball demands. They gather around.
The note reads:
I’ve had a vision. Bushranger is at the Old Withers Orchard, five kilometres west of Healesville. I can see him pointing a cannon at something called a star-stone. You’re there too, Focus. I’m going now to head him off.
‘She had a vision!’ Cannonball gasps. ‘Let’s go!’
‘How do we know this orchard even exists?’ Logi-Gal says, looking highly suspicious. ‘We’re going to traipse out of town, at now of all moments, on some whim conjured up by Cannonball’s sister?’
‘You got a better idea?’ Cannonball says, rounding on her.
‘Yeah, I do,’ Logi-Gal says. ‘Sorry, Focus, but I say we call Golden Boy.’
‘And what exactly is a star-stone?’ The Gamer asks.
‘I can answer that,’ Cyclone Tracy says. ‘This is need-to-know only, but it’s remarkable that Tomorrow Girl mentioned it.’
‘What is it, Tracy?’ I ask.
‘You know the rumours about how Southern Cross is powered by the energy of a unique combination of stars, that he absorbed the power of the stars of the Southern Cross constellation? It’s true – and the only remaining source of this power is a star-stone that was created by the same star energy that powers Southern Cross. It’s a six-pointed star-stone and it’s hidden at a secret Hero location. Somehow Bushranger identified the location and used his plant powers to steal it. We think his ultimate plan is to destroy it – but in the meantime he has discovered that he can use it as a weapon. Concentrated doses of the star-stone power knocks Southern Cross out. And Bushranger knows that if he destroys the star-stone, Southern Cross will either lose his powers or maybe die. So he’s blackmailing us with Southern Cross’s lifeline.’
‘Why does the stone have six sides?’ The Gamer frowns. ‘Aren’t there four stars in the Southern Cross?’
‘Well, five, if you include that little one,’ says Torch.
‘No, the star-stone wouldn’t be including that,’ Logi-Gal says. ‘There are six stars because the brightest star in the main constellation, Alpha Cruxis, is actually three stars. They’re just so close together that they appear to us as one.’
‘Five points, brainiac,’ says Cannonball, but not without some respect.
‘Look, the shape of the star-stone is all very interesting, but it doesn’t change the fact that we have two very serious matters to deal with: Southern Cross’s life is in danger; and the AFHT wants you out, Focus,’ Tracy says. ‘I’m sorry.’
Everybody looks at me. I can feel myself dissolving. Torch shakes his head.
‘You’re a Hero,’ he says.
I could hug him. It’s exactly what I need to hear.
‘We’re going to the orchard,’ I say. ‘Tomorrow Girl has been right at least once before and she nailed it on the star-stone. We don’t have another plan.’
‘Focus,’ says Cyclone Tracy, looking worried.
‘I promise Tracy, if Bushranger isn’t at this orchard, if it even exists, then we hand over to Golden Boy. But I have to try. I can’t just hand in my cape. I can’t. Could you?’
Cyclone Tracy grimaces. ‘Probably not. Let me come with you.’
And we go, travelling north-east out of Melbourne, past the Dandenong mountains until we’re in the Yarra Valley – wine country. And exactly five kilometres west of the small town of Healesville we find a deserted-looking farmhouse with a faded sign reading: Withers.
The G rl-Stars are huddled under a tree, looking miserable.
‘Where’s Tomorrow Girl?’ Cannonball asks.
‘She went into the farmhouse, like, half an hour ago and she hasn’t come back.’
‘Have you made any attempt to see if she’s okay?’ Cannonball yells.
They look like a bunch of unhappy teenage girls whose school social was gatecrashed by a bikie gang. They’re shivering and very un-Super.
‘We were, like, you know, scared. This is too heavy for us.’
Torch steps up. ‘It’s okay. Your Team is new and this is serious. You did well to find Bushranger’s hideout. We’ll check Tomorrow Girl is okay. You stay here and guard the gate.’
&
nbsp; They all look relieved and I’m proud of Torch. Keeping an eye on the sky for a golden glow that will spell the end of my Hero career, I realise it’s time for action.
‘OK Team, there’s nothing in the pact that says you can’t make sure Tomorrow Girl is safe, or that you can’t fight his gang. But Bushranger is up to me. Tracy, can I ask that you only act as an observer? Only step in if you really need to?’
‘Are you sure, Focus?’ she says, looking alarmed.
‘Very sure. I want the OK Team to beat these guys, without S.T.O.M.P., without any help. I want us to have a genuine, undisputable win, if we can.’
She smiles at me and it’s like sunshine on a cloudy day. ‘Sure Focus. That’s a great idea. I’m here if you need me.’
My Hero life might only have minutes left. My actual life might only have minutes left. Southern Cross is unconscious and his precious lifesaving star-stone is somewhere on this farm. Plus Tomorrow Girl is missing. The stakes are very, very high.
I put my glove out and say firmly and clearly, ‘I’m OK!’
My team add their gloves to mine. They know exactly what to say and they say it loud.
CHAPTER 20
BLINK AND YOU’LL
MISS IT
Row after row of vines lead away from the road, towards the winery’s farmhouse. Knowing Bushranger’s power, the tangled, gnarled vines feel like a silent army, just waiting to pounce, as we walk warily up the driveway.
‘I feel like we’re being watched,’ says Torch.
‘I’m guessing we all feel spooked,’ says Cannonball.
‘And it’s entirely rational in the circumstances,’ says Logi-Gal.
‘Hey,’ says The Gamer. ‘That vine just winked at me.’
We all peer at the vines.
‘Only joking,’ he says.
We all shake our heads, but it does break the tension a little. Now we’re approaching the farmhouse, but it’s eerily still. Even The Gamer doesn’t pull up weeds to find extra lives or gold coins.
Bushranger strides out from behind a large shed and stands in the clearing in front of us. Several small bushes and tufts of grass grow to form an archway over his head, like some kind of throne.