Not Your Sidekick
Page 11
“You know, I remember you saying something about pretending to be Master Mischief. Why do you need to?”
“Stone can’t know that Master Mischief isn’t here. He’ll run the company into the ground. As long as he thinks that Mischief is still coming up with ideas and plans, we have some semblance of control.”
Jess narrows her eyes. She’d asked M a few times if Master Mischief was ever going to make an appearance in the lab, but he always seemed to be either busy or their work was “not of import” yet. In fact, yesterday M had told her the Mischiefs were travelling. “I thought you said he was out of town with Mistress Mischief.”
“They are, it’s just, well they’re trying to solve a problem right now, and it’s taking much longer than expected.”
“Where have you been? I haven’t seen you all day,” Jess says. “I missed you.”
“Oh. Yeah, thanks, I had something pressing keeping me in the back.”
“Oh, I did have a question about this project. Is it true that Plasmaman and Miss Mischief are related?”
“Oh yeah, they most definitely are. I mean, a number of meta-humans are related to each other; the genetic expression is inherited, of course. Not always, but sometimes.” M turns her head a little. “You really missed me?”
“I don’t know how I got anything done without the sound of your suit in the background.” Jess smiles, and M’s face panel lights go bright pink.
Claudia is visiting for the weekend. She has a new haircut and blonde and brown highlights that make her look incredibly glamorous. She keeps tossing it, ever so casually, to keep it fluffy and voluminous. It’s also Captain Orion’s newest haircut, as seen on the holocover of Fashion Today. It’s almost as if Orion is sitting at their dinner table, albeit shorter and Asian and well… Claudia.
Jess pushes the vegetables around on her plate as Claudia prattles on about her newest exploits in Crystal Springs. She got a key to the city, blah blah, new hero award, blah blah blah, is doing exciting missions with the League.
Victor listens, spellbound; it’s been a dream of Victor Tran’s to get a key to the city, even to Andover, but at most he’s gotten a certificate and a sandwich named after Shockwave.
But Claudia is a star.
Despite their seven-year age difference, Jess and Claudia were inseparable before Brendan was born. Jess adored her older sister, hero-worshipped her, and was constantly in awe as Claudia grew into her powers.
Flying was the first thing Claudia learned how to do. By age eleven she was already outracing their dad, following behind on him on missions. She was able to use her powers for much longer than their dad, and it was clear that she was going to be A-class.
“And then there will be three of us,” Claudia said. “We’ll be the best crime-fighting team ever, once you get your powers and then the baby, too.”
Claudia took Jess on a secret flight once, right when their mom was pregnant with Brendan. Jess was scared, but held on tight as Claudia flew over the vast desert, all golden hues, where cactuses were standing tall.
The warm afternoon light stretched out to the horizon, and Claudia giggled as she flew them over a broad canyon to marvel at the green-blue river below, at the water calmly traveling to its final destination. Jess marveled at the feeling of the wind running through her hair. Her superstrong sister held her aloft as if she weighed nothing, and they soared through the air until the city was nothing but a glittering streak in the vast desert.
The blue, blue sky was laced with light, the sun was starting to make its way toward the earth’s edge, and they soared past fluffy clouds, whirling around and around them until Jess laughed hysterically. Claudia threw her up in the air, and, for a few breathless moments, Jess was flying on her own, hearing nothing but her own blood racing through her body and her heart pounding furiously as she started to—fall—
Claudia caught her. “Not yet, Jessie Bessie,” she said, chuckling. “Soon, soon! You’ll be able to fly too.”
Jess never learned to fly.
After that night, Claudia got caught up in training with her parents, and then a few years later, while still in high school, she started the Meta-Human Training program early.
When, at puberty, Jess didn’t show any signs of having powers, Claudia ignored her to hang out with all her new friends in Meta-Human Training.
Now Jess hardly recognizes her sister. They have the same flat nose, the same brown eyes, the same black hair. Claudia blossomed in adolescence. Now she’s full figured, with model-worthy hair and designer clothes. She finished college with honors and graduated Meta-Human Training with an offer to join the League. She’s a larger-than-life hero.
Even their parents seem in awe of her.
“And then Captain Orion said—”
“Wait, you got to meet her?” Jess perks up. “What was she like?”
Claudia pauses and takes a drink of water. “Absolutely down to earth, you know? Like the pressure of being the country’s greatest superhero hasn’t fazed her at all. And she’s got so much on her shoulders, with the League and the never-ending fight against crime.”
“Okay, what happened at the Battle of New Miranda? I heard Coldfront died.”
Claudia looks scandalized with her brows drawn tightly together and her mouth slightly open. “He’s being held in a high-security cell at Meta-Human Corrections. He couldn’t have died; the League doesn’t kill anyone. That’s for villains.”
“What villains have killed anyone? Not since the War.”
“They’ve killed,” Claudia says, waving her hand vaguely. “Oh, before I forget. I got you a present.”
“Oh, thanks, I got the gift card you gave to Mom and Dad, you didn’t need to get me anything else.”
Claudia shrugs. “This was just a present from my last trip to New Bright City. I got something for everyone.” She pulls a glossy photograph out of her purse. It’s bent in a few places, and in the corner in silver ink is a hastily scrawled “For Tess,” and Captain Orion’s signature.
“Thanks.” Jess holds the photograph gingerly between her thumb and forefinger. It’s the same photo she got in the mail last week as part of the Captain Orion Fan Club’s monthly newsletter, except that one spelled her name correctly.
“What about me?” Brendan asks. He’s practically bouncing in his seat.
Claudia digs into her bag and pulls out action figures of Captain Orion, Starscream, and Copycat and hands them over. Brendan looks disappointed, but he just says thanks and accepts the figures. The thirteen-year-old hasn’t played with toys since he was a kid.
“I want to hear all about your super-secret lab,” Brendan says. The conversation turns to science, and Jess tunes out.
After dinner, Jess expects Claudia to hang out with her parents, or maybe reconnect with some of her friends in the area, but instead she pulls Jess aside.
“So, I heard from Mom and Dad, that like—oh, happy birthday, by the way—” Claudia says, like an afterthought. There’s a holo of them as children behind them: Claudia, a happy teenager, standing next to a young Jess holding baby Brendan. “—that you’re not gonna present with any powers. And that’s okay, you know, there’s nothing wrong with that. But I know you really wanna do the hero thing, and I came up with a great idea.”
“What?”
“You could be my sidekick! Okay, usually hero support requires that the sidekick presents with at least a D-class power, but I think if you wanna hang back in the lab, you can totally help with the tech side of things, maybe monitor the holofeeds and work with the communications team? I had to pull a lot of strings. And you can totally meet Captain Orion too! In person! Isn’t that great? You could start with us as soon as your spring quarter—it could be like an internship! Mom mentioned you were looking for a job, right, some time ago?”
A few weeks ago this idea might be interesting, but now to be a
sked to be in her sister’s shadow yet again, it’s just… patronizing.
She has a job now where she’s important and needed. M needs her. Master Mischief and Mistress Mischief need her.
“Thanks,” Jess says. “But I’m gonna have to pass. I have a job already.”
* * *
Working for Monroe Industries—or M’s secret lab—is challenging, but also entertaining at times. Jess finds answers to a lot of questions about how the Mischiefs planned their pranks, but ends up with even more questions about the more elaborate cons.
More often than not, M’s suit is clanking away alongside her. Jess wonders: Because this suit was Master Mischief’s, can it do similar things? She knows it can fly, but is that a modification or does M have similar powers? Jess doesn’t know a lot about the specifics of Master Mischief’s powers, but his suit was tailored to his technopath abilities. Maybe it’s been modified so someone who isn’t a meta-human can use it.
Maybe M does just wear the suit to pretend to the rest of Monroe Industries that she’s Master Mischief. But the lab is empty, and there isn’t anyone working on the many electronic experiments in the main room, despite the large number of workspaces and the unfinished projects scattered all over the room. The receptionist’s desk is empty, and there’s a light at the far end of the hall where Jess assumes Abby’s working on something for M.
“How long has Abby been working here?” Jess asks.
M’s suit beeps, and then responds with a stiffly electronic, “Three months.”
“Funny, I’ve never seen her wear those work clothes at school. I mean, not that I notice. But it would be kind of hard to miss, if she was wearing that skirt?” Jess sighs. “She looks great in that skirt. Her butt is so cute.”
The suit chirps.
“You okay?”
“Yes, fine. So you’re friends with Abby at school?” M asks.
“Um, not really. She’s kind of like, super-intimidating.”
“I see,” M says. The tone of her voice is flat.
“I mean, I think I tried talking to her once, but then I got super-distracted. She has really nice hair. It looks so fluffy and soft.”
M makes a strangled electronic noise.
“You okay there, M?”
“Yeah. Uh, I need to get you all the files pertaining to the museums, but I don’t know where they are in the warehouse.”
Jess shrugs and points.
M’s suit chirps at her. “What are you doing?”
“I dunno. Have you tried looking in that corner?”
M pauses, her visor blank and regarding Jess for a moment before she says, “Sure, why not?” Despite the sarcastic tone, M does walk out of the office, and Jess continues with her work. A few moments later M returns with a box and starts unpacking it.
“Thanks.”
“Mmhmm,” Jess says. “Going with a random direction is useful sometimes.”
“Random,” M repeats, but she doesn’t bring it up again.
Ch.7...
Jess has heard many various complaints from other kids at school about their jobs, like annoying customers and difficult tasks. Emma volunteers at the fancy animal hospital downtown, and Bells works at his family’s restaurant, so she hears about the difficulties pretty often. But she’s come to enjoy working at Monroe Industries much more than she expected.
Jess likes organizing things; everything in her room has a system—books are alphabetized and organized by genre, even all the files on her DED are in intricately labeled folders, one after another. And, it’s interesting keeping up with what the Mischiefs have been up to over the years and seeing their side of all those squabbles with her parents. She likes talking to M—it’s easy, M’s got this dry wit that’s really funny, and she’s nice and shares Jess’ taste in movies. They spend one afternoon filing and debating the triumphs of the recent Vindicated movie—an action series whose plot points dried up in the first sequel (there are many) but that still remains Jess’ guilty pleasure.
One afternoon Jess finds a dusty box of plastic balls in various sizes and colors. She pulls out a purple one the size of a volleyball and drops it on the office floor; it bounces. Jess laughs, entertaining herself by bouncing it for a bit.
M walks into the office.
“Heads up,” Jess says, tossing the ball at her.
“What—” M brings her arms together, hitting it back.
Jess shrieks and ducks and barely gets out of the way before the ball crashes into the wall and a pile of unopened boxes. She grabs the thing before it can do any more damage and puts it back in the box. “What was that?”
“Oh, the balls were for a prank. You know that hill up by the country club? We were going to toss them down—”
“No, I mean the skills!” Jess laughs. “You play volleyball or something?”
“I—I, ah, yeah. Once or twice,” M says. “Did you think—”
“What?”
“Never mind,” M says hastily and steps forward to take the box. “I’ll go put these away.”
Twenty minutes later, when she comes back from the warehouse level, she lingers in the doorway. Jess looks up to see the blank visor of M’s helmet staring right back at her.
“So… How are things going with your… crush?” M asks.
“What?” Jess fights the blush rising on her cheeks. “I’m not—I don’t have a crush.”
The blank metal face of M’s suit stares back at her.
“Okay, fine,” Jess admits. “But like, don’t tell her, okay? Please? I’m trying to get better at hanging out with her and not making a fool out of myself.”
M makes a noise that could be a snort. “I think you’re doing fine. Just be yourself and all that, you know.”
Jess huffs. “Well, I guess things are going well? I guess? We carpool from school to here, so I guess we’re hanging out more.”
Riding together has become a normal thing. When Jess has work, she meets Abby at the tree by the parking lot, and they drive downtown together. Jess was trying to figure out how to hang out with Abby outside of work when Abby initiated it.
Jess tells M, “I had lunch with Abby yesterday at school. It was interesting? Not sure. It was… really random.”
And it was. Abby just sat in the grass right next to Bells, said, “Hey,” and started eating her school lunch.
Bells stared openly at Abby in her designer blouse and jeans.
“What are you doing?” Bells said.
“Eating lunch, hanging out,” Abby said. “Here, you like tater tots, right?” She handed Jess the tray. The tater tots were fresh out of the fryer.
“Uh, thanks?” Jess took the tray and shared confused looks with Emma and Bells. Her friends adjusted quickly and started a conversation with Abby; they shared a few AP classes with her. Abby spent the entire lunch period with them and even helped Emma on an assignment she was finishing for fifth period.
Bells pulled Jess aside, his eyes alight with amusement. “Dude, when did you start dating Abby?”
“What? We’re not dating,” Jess insisted. “We uh, just work together. That’s all. I guess we’re friends now? That’s why she felt like hanging out?”
Jess relates the story to M, whose lights go green, which Jess now knows means she’s amused.
“It’s not funny,” Jess says.
“I didn’t laugh,” M replies as the green lights continue to dance about the panel. “It’s cute. Your friends think you’re dating the girl you like, that’s all.”
Jess snorts. “I wish. I just… I dunno, both of them have dated people before, I just… it’s really daunting, okay! I can’t just ask Abby if she likes girls or not! What if she doesn’t know? What if… I… Yeah. It’s too much risk.”
M is silent.
Jess chews on her lip and tugs her hair out of her ponytail. She fiddl
es with the elastic and reties her hair, looking at the floor. Why did she have to share so much? “Sorry, it’s a lot; I mean, it’s not very professional, is it? Talking about your crushes at work. But technically you started it, so.”
You started it? Way to be professional, Jess.
M’s visor panel blinks short bursts of blue light. “It’s fine. I just… well, if you like her so much, why don’t you ask her out?”
Jess blushes. “I can’t do that! I mean… It’s scary.”
“But what if she likes you back?” M suggests. The lights in her panel flash blue and purple.
“That is highly unlikely. We never hung out before I started working here. I mean, I’m surprised she even knew my name. How would she know she liked me?”
“Maybe she’s just as nervous as you are.”
“Nervous? Abby?” Jess laughs weakly. “She’s the epitome of the word ‘badass,’ okay? Like Emma once told me she scared off the opposing volleyball team with just a look.”
A computer console on the other side of the room sparks, and M makes a muffled noise that is bitten off by her electronic voice modulator. “I’ll go get the fire extinguisher,” she says in a slow, flat tone and sets down her box. She leaves the room; her suit whirrs as she flies out.
M does have powers.
Ms. Rhinehart is passing back essays when Abby sits in the seat next to Jess. There isn’t an everyday seating chart, but everyone likes to sit at the same table, at least.
“Hey.” Abby puts her book bag on the table and smiles at Jess.
“Hi.” Jess looks at the table where Abby usually sits with Carla and Kylie, who are on the volleyball team. Carla’s boyfriend is sitting with them in Abby’s place and flipping through The Awakening with a dull expression on his face.
“Oh man, that quiz in Cornwell’s class was so hard.”
“I’m not in AP Bio,” Jess says, although she already heard about the killer quiz from Emma.
“Oh, I thought you were in the other period. Sorry.”
“All right, quiet down,” Ms. Rhinehart says to the class. “This month, we’re going to be working on your collaborative writing efforts. Partner up, you have a short story due in two weeks.”