There was so much I wanted to comment on, but I'd wasted too much time already. If we couldn't get my idiot fans out because of my procrastination, I'd never forgive myself.
“We're escaping. Now,” I said in my most Bad Penny, team leader, order-giving tone.
“I'm positive she can't get in,” said Cassie, flipping one hand to dismiss my worry.
I ignored her. Wrenching at my jumpsuit's sleeves pulled them up enough to slide my teleport bracers off. I poured them into Ray's hands. His super-human stamina should be enough to handle this.
“What, no climactic battle?” asked Teddy, disappointed.
“No. If we fight, we get caught, but Mourning Dove is weird. I'm betting that once we're out of the museum, she won't give chase.” One of the many things I did not have time for was to explain my theories about how Mourning Dove's ruthlessness was tied inextricably to her passionless, results-oriented morality.
“But we'll fight with you! I would sign up to be your henchman in a second,” Cassie wheedled.
More henchmen would be pretty cool, and Cassie's desperate eagerness tugged at my heartstrings, but… how could anyone join in what Ray, Claire, and I had?
The noise out in the central hall stopped. Mourning Dove's fight with Marcia was over, and she was thirty feet away at most.
I whispered to Ray, “We need another distraction. Break something.”
“A sign,” he whispered back. Perfect. Loud, but unimportant.
It only took seconds. He moved a foot forward, and disappeared. Something far away and upstairs cracked, and then cracked again. Ray reappeared next to me.
“I can carry two at a time,” Ray said, advancing on our schoolmates.
“I'll get Marcia,” said Jacky. She collapsed into an algae-covered puddle, and flowed out along the wall in a long, thin stream.
Sue stepped up to meet Ray, looking more serious than the other chuckleheads. “Take me first. I can make this faster.”
He didn't argue. He scooped her up in the arms, spun around, put his foot on the floor, and was gone.
A moment later, he was back. Ignoring Cassie's squawk, he picked up her and Will under his arms, like bags of flour. Then they, too, were gone.
I peeked out the doorway. A black-edged oval hole had opened in the outer wall of the museum, held by Sue. It gave Ray a straight shot, and he dumped Cassie and Will, and teleported back. We lost a few seconds because Laverne hadn't moved, and he had to go to the back of the mineral hall to grab her. Then, holding her and Teddy by their waists, he disappeared again.
The others were safe. Claire could get away under her own power. Ray blinked back, and we lost another second or two to him breathing heavily. The teleport bands were rough, even on a super-enhanced constitution.
Being scooped up into his arms and held against his wiry chest never got any less fun.
Shadows flickered, and Mourning Dove teleported in behind him. On the other end of the building, Sue closed the hole in the wall. It was what I would have told her to do.
We couldn't just blink past Mourning Dove. I knew from experience that she could follow us.
Something was wrong. Her head tilted a little to one side. For the first time, that croaking voice sounded energized rather than robotic. “Hello, children. Thank you for the meal. I never imagined anyone could be so… vital. There was no end to her.” A grey tongue licked her emaciated lips, and she raised a white-gloved hand to point a finger at us. “But you helped criminals escape, and I can't ignore that.”
She took a step forward, and Ray took a step back. Okay, options. Ray didn't have his energy blast gloves, but he wouldn't have time to charge them anyway. I had my entangling cuffs. Mourning Dove wasn't an idiot, even if she did sound drunk. She probably wouldn't let them hit her. If they did, they wouldn't hold her for more than a few seconds, but we didn't need more than a few seconds. If I missed, we'd have started a fight with someone way above our power level.
It was worth a try. That smile did not look at home to reason.
Mourning Dove took another step forward, but slowly, like she had to fight against a barrier this time. That would help. I reached for my belt pouch.
Claire took the gamble away from us by leaning around the corner of the support wall, thumping it with her fuzzy fist, and whining, “Why won't you listen to me!”
Mourning Dove looked. Ray and I caught the edges of Claire's power, but were used to it. We were all slowed down, but we didn't need reaction time. The vampire did.
Ray stepped forward. The world flashed repeatedly, like changing slides. Ray grabbed Claire, heaping me on top of her. We appeared next to the T-Rex. The front door was open, held by a tentacle of slime. We were out in the night air. We were across the street, in the parking lot.
Claire and I stumbled to our feet, out of Ray's arms. He took deep breaths, shaking. Envy momentarily crawled through me, because a few deep breaths was all it seemed to take to get his strength back.
Whipping her cell phone out of her backpack, Claire started dialing. She had all three of our backpacks. My team was smart.
“Mom, come get us. I suggest you hurry. Bye.” The signal to our getaway driver sent, she looked up at us. “I hope she's close by.”
“I hope you were right, and Mourning Dove doesn't follow us,” said Ray.
“I hope the clock worked, and there aren't any videos.”
Angry yellow zombies failed to swoop out of the night. In that regard, at least, we were safe.
What couldn't be fixed was that all the most impulsive people in the club now knew I was a supervillain.
I just about jumped out of my skin as someone did actually swoop down out of the night. Claudia landed right in front of us in the loose grey sweatshirt, pants, and ski mask she used as Generic Girl. Fists balled up, but not tightly, she gave us a wary look and got straight to the point. “Am I too late? I would have been here at seven, but my so-called-father sat on me.”
We all three nodded, and I said, “It's over. Some of the kids from the club broke in after us. Then Mourning Dove showed up.”
Now Claudia's fists clenched hard enough to shake. She didn't grit her teeth, but that old bleakness took over her eyes and voice. “I knew it. He kept saying it wasn't my responsibility, but I wasn't there…”
Claire shook her head, untying the kitty hat. “No, it was fine! We got everyone out. If anything important was damaged, I didn't see it.”
“I would like to know how you all knew we would be here,” said Ray, following Claire's lead and removing his hat and mask.
“Sue overheard you, and told the others, and I overheard her.” Claudia went very still. She didn't look angry or hollow anymore. Just confused. Much quieter, she asked, “You didn't need me?”
Slipping off my goggles, I rubbed at the grooves they left around my eyes. Didn't want to go home with those showing. “It's not like escaping Mourning Dove was easy, but we managed. I bet Marcia has a headache, but everybody's safe.”
Without another word, Claudia shot up into the dark sky and out of sight.
Me, Ray, and Claire stood there. Ray started giggling first. He took my hand, lifting it and giving it a squeeze. “Thank you. My dark mistress honored me with a wonderful evening.”
“It's not quite over,” I suggested. After all, Claire's mom hadn't arrived yet.
We both stepped forward. Ray took my other hand. Our mouths touched. It wasn't as intense as Cassie and Will's kiss, but it was all the giddy, embarrassed pleasure I could handle without fainting.
It had been a great first date!
oooooo…?”
That was Claire on the phone the next afternoon.
Strategy number one: Evasion. “So what?”
“Any peep from your parents about the attack on the museum? I've watched the news, I've searched the super powered forums. Nobody knows it happened.”
Oh! Relief soothed and energized me. I flopped back onto my bed, and pulled my pillows up as a makeshift chair
back. “As the Audit's daughter, I can state with statistical assurance a ninety one percent probability they have no idea anything happened at the museum last night at all.”
I could only imagine Claire throwing herself down on the couch, but the easy chatter in her tone came through loud and clear. We had entered that stage of the conversation. “That's good for us, but I couldn't believe it. The first thing Teddy or Cassie would do is run to tell their adventure to the whole internet, right? Or at least the museum would mention the strange hiccup in their security and timekeeping systems last night. Nothing.”
Musing was a pleasant distraction. “They might be scared of Mourning Dove? No, the only way they were going to learn that lesson was if we'd let her have them, and we couldn't do that. I hope Marcia's okay, but Jacky got out, which means she got Marcia out, and Mourning Dove wouldn't have seriously hurt her. What does hurting Marcia even mean now, anyway? In a fight, she's indestructible, but Sue acts like she's at death's door. Sometimes when Marcia thinks nobody's paying attention, she looks it. Did you notice she was late to English class Wednesday? I saw her in the hall slumped against her locker, and then she ran to the bathroom.”
“Mmm-hmm. Mmm-hmm,” agreed Claire, sweet as poisoned bait. “So, what are you hiding?”
My body froze up in panic, my face turned hot, and my voice turned squeaky. Complete smoothness failure. “Uh. What?”
Claire's honey sweetness became a melodious, predatory drawl. In my imagination, she lay on her stomach, twisting the cord of her mother's antique land line phone around her finger. “You're not a rambler, Penelope darling. I babble, and Ray speculates, but you think and act. What are you trying to talk over?”
Tes- I couldn't even complete the thought. My cheeks felt like they'd fracture and fall off my face. Letting out a long groan, I covered my eyes. Not seeing the world helped a little, enough to squeak, “I got the Talk last night.”
At least Claire was sensitive enough to switch from teasing to clinical. “The Talk? The Birds and the Bees?”
It all spilled out. “You know my mom. Maybe my clothes were a mess, or I was out of breath, or she saw something in my body language. They never said what they think happened, but my folks think something did. It was awful. They weren't mad, but my dad talking about… ugh. I'm going to die. I at least can refuse to leave my room today, right?”
It was easy for Claire to sound detached. Her mom probably gave her the Talk when she was seven. Or they started when Claire learned to speak, and never stopped. “Doctor's appointment and everything?”
“Yes.” That was going to be an unimaginable nightmare of terminal embarrassment. My plan: Build an amnesia ray so I could forget it was going to happen.
“Weeell, I suppose I can give you one day to hide your head under your pillow and pretend you're dead. What do you want to do tomorrow?”
I switched from covering my eyes to just rubbing the bridge of my nose. “What choice do I have? 'Near-Fatal blushing' doesn't get you out of class. Do you think we can find an excuse to skip the club? They don't need me, and I still haven't gone through all the loot Bull's friends gave me.”
Claire started giggling in little, uncontrolled spasms.
“What?” I asked, a little grateful to not know what was going on.
She drew a breath, hesitating, picking her words, and finally told me in a strangled squeak, “This week is spring break.”
February, March… “Oops. Uh… I've had a lot on my mind?”
Claire's laughter pealed out of the phone, on and on and on.
ight hours is a long time for cooling down. By the next morning, I was able to face my parents again.
Something did happen between me and Ray, something they would never have guessed. After hearing how he wanted to get away from his parents, I was more aware of the hour I spent with Dad at the kitchen table poking at a broken robot brain, while Mom explained how emergent properties work, and Dad outlined how he'd read a new theorem that might explain how mad scientists create AIs so easily. When I left to go see Ray and Claire, Mom told me when to come home, because she and Dad were going to try to make that great spicy macaroni and cheese recipe they got from Miss Lutra. That would be a family adventure. For two people famous for how totally reliable their super powers were, it all fell apart when Mom and Dad cooked. Sometimes they were amazing. Sometimes they couldn't make the simplest recipe work. There had to be something imprecise, something not quite covered by numbers or theory in this dish, if they needed to work together to solve it.
It was both comforting and weird to notice that I had a whole day of family packed around my afternoon with my friends.
But that afternoon with my friends was right now!
I had a pile of cool stuff in the new base. Several piles, neatly stacked, arranged in cubes and rows in the entrance hall.
“Okay, I think… I think that's a device for shaving gemstones? Put it in the room with the big delta symbol, next to the flash freezer and the magnetic field splitty stand,” became the kind of thing I said a lot.
Oh, and, “I think the shiny red computer is still better. Claire, can you look up this graphics card before I dump it on the pile?”
A whole bunch of superheroes either thought I needed a new computer, or had three lying around they wanted to get rid of.
Whether or not they knew me as Bad Penny, almost everybody had identified me as a mad scientist. Bull's mysterious, enthusiastically grateful friends had given me a collection of workshop machines that now put the hero lab to shame, and made my original lab a sick joke. Along with them came a collection of raw materials, most of them pretty exotic. I had no idea what the twisty crystal wires were for.
I was actually most grateful for the computers. I didn't need any of them as computers. The best one, whenever we identified it, would be pretty sweet, and a couple of the others would run lab equipment, but… well, that was all kind of optional.
My super power could make anything, but as the Penulti-Clock demonstrated, really fancy electronics took a long time, required a crazy deep fugue, and left me exhausted. The less raw the materials, the easier that would be.
Right? Hopefully?
That left the smallest, most concerning group of gifts. The weapons.
It made sense. What does one supervillain give another? A super science weapon! Fortunately, only half a dozen or so had gone that route.
Why 'fortunately?' Because none of them included instructions. Or even a label. Only one looked identifiably gun-like, but did I dare point it at anything? Was it a tickle ray or a portable black hole launcher?
My super power refused to give me hints on any of them. Only one even got a faint ghost of an image, a blueprint I couldn't quite see, when I picked it up.
Rubbing my sleeve over my forehead, I said, “Puny non-stamina-enhanced human me is going to go upstairs and get some sun and fresh air. I'll be back in a minute.”
“So it was prophesied by the Little Girls of Old,” intoned Ray, bowing low over an armful of anchor chain that was destined to be broken down for the steel.
“Uh huh,” said Claire, barely nodding as she hooked up the choicest computer for testing.
I rode the magic escalator up to the surface, holding that one super powered device my power liked. It didn't look like much, a coppery metal scepter with weird symbols engraved in rings all the way down. Three of those rings were twistable, like dials.
On the way up, the top ring of symbols lit up with a dim orange glow.
I made a big point of not twisting those dials.
The cobblestone hole opened, bathing me in the sunshine and fresh air I'd mentioned earlier. They felt good. Spring was almost here, and this was the kind of wonderful weather where long sleeves and short sleeves were equally comfortable. The arms of Upper High didn't even come close to blocking out the sunlight at this time of the afternoon, and on the first Monday of spring break? The school was a ghost town.
The scepter's second ring lit up,
a muddier orange that glowed brighter. Criminy. Hey, super power, this thing wasn't about to blow up, right? You love bombs. You always tell me when one is about to go off.
The third ring flashed red.
Even if I were wearing my teleport bracers, I wouldn't have had time to evade. Claudia flashed down out of the sky, grabbing me by my neck. She didn't choke me, much, but when she lifted me off the ground, my upper spine screamed blood murder. Ow ow ow!
“I knew you'd be here, Bad Penny,” Claudia growled.
Ow. The first rule of dealing with someone ludicrously more powerful than you: Don't make it a fight. Ow. Wheeze. “What did I do?”
The question stumped her. Her head gave a twitchy, barely perceptible shake. “Nothing. Yet.” Her snarl turned to shock, and she lowered me back to my feet and let go. “I…” Her mouth twisted, but she made herself say it. “Sorry.”
Rolling my head around produced no sharp pains that would suggest injury, so I squinted at Claudia. Her usual moody poker face didn't sell after a greeting like that. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” When I didn't dignify that with an argument, she said, “Why do you care?” Not angry. Almost monotone.
I pointed the scepter back over my shoulder. “We're setting up my lab. Do you want to come in and have a soda?” Two and two clicked together. “Nobody told you I was committing a crime again, did they?”
I'd added up to five. Not a flicker of guilt or suspicion. Claudia stepped back, and sat on the rim of the big, circular brick pots for the courtyard's trees. As mildly as if the previous sixty seconds hadn't happened, she asked, “Did everything really go fine at the museum without me?”
The lights on the scepter all went out. I used it to scratch my head. “I don't know about 'fine.' A bunch of other kids broke in and ended my date just as my boyfriend was showing off his muscles and brains at the same time by helping the world's coolest archaeologist. No occasion when Mourning Dove chases you around can be called 'fine.' But nobody got arrested, no displays got broken or stolen, and nobody got hurt except Marcia, who likes it.”
Please Don't Tell My Parents (Book 3): I've Got Henchmen Page 20