“That was Larry’s exact point. I’m always putting out fires. Here’s a chance to stop a fire before it starts. Hundreds of fires.”
“It does make sense when you put it like that, but it can’t be as easy as that.”
Connie said, “I don’t imagine it will be. If it was, Larry wouldn’t need me.”
“And we’re certain this isn’t some elaborate scheme to lure you into a deathtrap?”
“He already had me in a deathtrap, and he didn’t spring it.”
Tia said, “Yes, but it could be a bigger scheme than that. Or maybe he’s trying to win over your trust before destroying you.”
“Do I need to keep reminding you we’re talking about Larry here?”
“Larry Peril, son of Lady Peril, the seventh or eighth most dangerous mind in the world,” reminded Tia.
“Eleventh,” said Connie. “I checked. I get your suspicions, Tia. I share some of them, but I also think it’s a chance worth taking.”
The holes in the sky grew darker and sharper. Horrible things growled and shrieked from beyond. They attempted to shove their way into this universe, only to clog the portal trying to be the first one in.
Connie and Tia approached the altar. Whispering shadows slinked through the temple, but Connie and Tia ignored the distraction.
“And how’s Byron feel about this?” asked Tia.
“He’s fine. Why wouldn’t he be?”
“He’s not worried about you working in close quarters with your first boyfriend?”
“Larry was never my boyfriend,” said Connie. “We were just kids, thrown together by hormones and circumstances. Larry and I were never a thing.”
Tia paused. “Whatever you say.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I remember you two. You always had chemistry. Not hard to understand why. You have a lot in common. Larry’s an ordinary guy from an extraordinary background, and you’re an extraordinary girl from an ordinary background. There are sparks there. Or there were. Don’t act like you didn’t almost lose your virginity to him when we were racing Siege Perilous across the globe, gathering bones of Theseus.”
“Eurystheus,” corrected Connie.
“Whatever. Why did we have to do that again? Never mind. The point is that when a seventeen-year-old girl and boy are off on a globetrotting adventure together, stuff is going to happen. And don’t pretend like there wasn’t something exciting about teaming up with the son of your archenemy.”
“Lady Peril was never—”
“It has a real Romeo-and-Juliet vibe to it. I know something happened between you two when we were visiting the Hidden Library of Alexandria. Don’t deny it.”
Connie looked away and mumbled.
“What was that?” asked Tia.
“Second base,” said Connie. “It wasn’t the first time.”
“Aha!” exclaimed Tia as if cracking the case.
“We never went any further than that,” said Connie. “We haven’t seen each other in at least ten years.”
“Uh-huh.”
“You aren’t seriously suggesting that this is all a ploy Larry’s using to get close to me?”
Tia’s face dropped. “No, I wasn’t. But now I’m thinking I am.”
“That’s even stupider than your betrayal-and-deathtrap theory. For all we know, Larry is happily married with kids and doesn’t think about me like that at all anymore.”
“Did you see a wedding ring?” asked Tia.
“I didn’t notice.”
“Not buying it, master detective.”
“I wouldn’t say master.”
Tia leaned forward with a knowing smile.
“No wedding ring,” said Connie, “but not everyone wears one.”
“Tell me this, then,” said Tia. “Did he comment on your appearance?”
The interdimensional alignment fell into place. Horrors from beyond crawled their way into this universe. Connie dropped the flower on the altar. It flashed with a blinding brilliance as the unnamable things roared their displeasure. She smashed the flower with the box, and the sacrifice sent a shockwave rippling through time and space. Connie and Tia were thrown from the altar as the sky closed. The horrible things wailed as they were hurled back to their dimension of origin, to be bottled away for an age or two.
“Goddamn.” Tia sat up, rubbing her back. “I landed on a rock.”
Connie helped Tia up. They left the hydra behind to regenerate as they left the temple. The faint hint of stars twinkled in the twilight. They took a moment to appreciate it. It was easy to miss this stuff while saving the world.
“Please tell me we don’t have to hike fifty miles back to civilization,” said Tia.
“Helicopter should be coming by soon,” replied Connie.
“Thank God.”
Tia unslung her backpack and removed a pair of candy bars. They sat there, enjoying the quiet.
“Larry said I looked good,” said Connie.
“Good?”
“He might have said great.”
“Just great or did he add a really or two?”
“There might have been one really,” admitted Connie. “That doesn’t mean anything, though. It’s just something people say.”
“How did he say it?” Tia adopted a polite lilt. “Jeez, Connie, you’re looking really great.” She narrowed her eyes, smiled coyly, and lowered her voice. “Connie, you’re looking really great.”
Connie closed her eyes. “This might be the stupidest conversation we’ve ever had.”
“What about that time you spent twenty minutes trying to teach me the difference between a replicant and a replicoid?”
“You’ll thank me for that if you ever end up stranded in the future.”
“Noted. So, if you don’t think your history with Larry is important, then why haven’t you told Byron?”
“It’s not relevant. Anyway, if you’re so concerned about me and ex-boyfriends, why are you still with Hiro?”
“Hiro’s different. We all know where we stand there.”
“Am I supposed to tell Byron anytime I run into anyone I have any romantic history with? No matter how long ago? No matter how irrelevant?”
“I never said that.”
“What are you saying?”
Tia considered the question. “I’m not really sure anymore.”
“Are you not really sure? Or not really sure? So, I should turn down Larry’s offer to make the world a safer place because he might still have a lingering crush on me?”
“Does sound dumb when you put it like that,” agreed Tia. “There’s just something about this situation that I don’t like. It feels . . . tricky, but I think you’re right. We should do it.”
“We?”
“I’ve been thinking about it. I’d like to apply for full-time sidekick status.”
Connie said, “It’s about time.”
“You’re cool with the idea, then? I thought maybe you’d be concerned about dragging around a liability.”
“You’ve never been a liability, Tia.”
“Not even when I’ve been dangling over bottomless pits while some sinister genius uses me as a hostage?”
“Not even then,” said Connie, “but you’ve grown into a capable sidekick over the past few years. I’ve been wondering when you’d finally ask.”
“You could’ve let me know the position was available.”
“I didn’t want to pressure you, but it’s easier to save the world with reliable backup.”
“I’ll drink to that.”
They tapped their canteens together. They heard a distant thumping sound as the lights of a helicopter appeared on the horizon.
11
A few days later, Connie stood before a sleek, black private jet in its very own hangar.
The pilot, a stocky woman in a matching black uniform, asked, “Is there a problem, Ms. Verity?”
“No. No problem. I just assumed I’d be flying commercial.”
&n
bsp; The pilot laughed. “Lord Peril was very insistent you be treated well. We’re just running a few checks, and we should be leaving on schedule. If you’ll give your bags to me, I’ll be happy to see they’re loaded on board for you.”
“Yeah, sure.” Connie handed the pilot her bag.
The pilot glanced behind Connie. “Is this it?”
Connie usually flew commercial and, like most skills required for her lifestyle, she’d mastered the techniques required. She could pack a carry-on like a Sherpa, control the armrest like Sun Tzu, and tune out the world with the meditative abilities of a warrior monk. She’d never gained enlightenment, but she’d survived a sixteen-hour flight beside a screaming toddler on one side and a yapping shih tzu without succumbing to madness. She still considered it one of her greatest triumphs in a life full of impossible escapes.
Connie said, “I travel light.”
“I see. Well, if you’d like to have a seat while we finish up final preparations . . .” The pilot gestured to a table and chair where a server in a red vest and crisp black pants stood at attention. A full kitchen had been assembled behind him, where a round chef also waited.
“Yeah, sure,” said Connie again.
She sat, and the server handed her a menu. “Given the timetable, I’m afraid the soufflé is out of the question,” he said, “but the chef does have an excellent German chocolate cake ready to go, if you would like.”
“I’m good,” she said. “German chocolate, huh?”
He bowed at the waist like a precision mechanical man. “Yes, madam. We were told it was your favorite.”
“Oh, it is. I’ll just take a water.”
His impeccable mustache twitched. “Is that all, madam? We have a wonderful selection of beverages and libations. If we might make a suggestion, we have a delightful cabernet sauvignon that pairs beautifully with the cake.”
“Water. No cake.”
“A soda, perhaps?” He swallowed his disgust with a facile smile. “Many people do seem to enjoy a preflight Coca-Cola or Dr. Pepper.”
She didn’t feel like fighting his offended sense of decorum, but she dug in despite herself. “Water.”
“Very good, madam.”
She caught his sleeve as he turned to fetch the drink.
“Tap.”
She expected him to faint, but after a small stagger, he nodded. “Yes, madam.”
Connie pulled out her phone and called Tia.
“What’s up?” asked Tia.
“Not bothering you, am I?” asked Connie.
“No, I’m at lunch.”
“If I’m bothering you, I can always call back later.”
“It’s cool.”
“I’ll call later.”
“Connie, what is it?” asked Tia.
Connie exhaled. “I think I screwed up. You were right. Larry has a thing for me.”
“Well, no shit,” said Tia. “Do you want me to act surprised now? I can make a surprised face if you want, though you won’t be able to see it on the phone.”
“He’s flying me by private jet,” said Connie.
“That doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”
“He had German chocolate cake prepared for me.”
“Well, shit. That’s not good.”
“It’s not, is it?”
“Maybe he’s just showing his appreciation. You are helping him out.”
The server returned with a glass on a tray. He handled the glass as if it contained radioactive slime and set it before her. “Shall there be anything else, madam?”
“No, thank you.”
“Very good.” He stood to one side, staring ahead as if he’d been switched into standby mode.
Connie took a drink of the water, and a trace of a frown crossed his thin lips.
“Maybe I’m reading too much into it,” she said to Tia. “If he’s in charge of Siege Perilous, he probably has a dozen private jets.”
“Probably,” agreed Tia. “And Larry knows you’re not the kind of lady to fall for the wine-and-dine routine.”
Connie put the phone to her chest. “Are you just going to stand there?” she asked the server.
“Would you prefer we remain in the kitchen?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Very good, madam. How is your . . . water?”
“Delicious, thank you.” She took a sip, and he raised an eyebrow in rampant disgust. She was certain he must’ve had the nerves in his face deadened to prevent him from accidentally displaying an untoward emotion.
“If you need us, madam, simply ring the bell.”
He retreated to the kitchen area, never once making eye contact with the chef. They stood there, beside each other, silently.
Connie turned her back to them. “This is weird. Are you sure you can’t make it? I’m sure I can get them to delay the flight.”
“Can’t do it,” said Tia. “I’ve managed to do this job despite sidekicking, but I’m swamped right now.”
“You can always blow them off.”
“Considering how often they’ve looked the other way for me, it wouldn’t feel right. I’ve given them my two weeks’ notice. You don’t need me for this. Just tell Larry you’re in a relationship.”
“I do not want to have that conversation. Not after flying on his jet and eating his cake.”
“You ate the cake?”
“Not yet, but I will,” said Connie.
“So, don’t go.”
“Then what do I tell him? I’m sorry, but I can’t help you make the world a safer place because I’m afraid you might have feelings for me and I’d rather not deal with that?”
“Who says you have to be honest? Just tell him you’ve changed your mind. Tell him you’re busy. Tell him you have to fight space vampires from dimension X. You shouldn’t have a hard time coming up with believable excuses, considering your choices of what is believable for you.”
“Doesn’t seem right,” said Connie.
“Then go. Tell him the truth.”
“What if it gets weird? This is Larry. I don’t want to hurt him.”
Tia sighed. “I don’t know what to tell you, Connie.”
“You should,” said Connie.
The pilot approached. “We are ready for takeoff, Ms. Verity.”
“Sounds like you’re off,” said Tia. “Good luck.”
Connie disconnected. She boarded, taking a slice of cake to go, despite her better judgment. She’d spent most of her life ignoring it, so why start now? The flight was quiet and smooth. She ate her cake and tried not to think about what she’d do after landing.
She hoped she wouldn’t have to do anything, but if Larry had something more in mind than neutralizing the forces of evil, she’d politely correct him on that. And Larry would be fine with it. Why wouldn’t he be? He wasn’t a real mastermind. He wasn’t likely to turn evil at her rejection and take his vengeance out on the world.
He was the son of a supervillain, though. Dangerous territory. The children of evil geniuses tended to either become evil geniuses or dedicate their lives to disrupting evil geniuses. It came with the territory. Guys like Larry Peril were the exception, not the rule.
Except Larry was now in charge of Siege Perilous.
She tried to imagine Larry in a cape or with a metal gauntlet. She couldn’t do it. She tried something simpler like merely sitting in a chair, stroking a Persian cat sitting on his lap, briefing his underlings on their latest nefarious scheme. He’d express disappointment with one of them and push a button that would send them to their doom.
She couldn’t see that either, but Larry could’ve changed. It’d been a long time since she’d seen him.
When the plane landed, she decided she’d put all her cards on the table. Whether Larry was a mastermind or a guy nursing a decades-long crush or simply what he seemed to be, she’d figure it out the best way she could. By just being honest with him.
The plane set down in a nondescript hangar in a small airport in the middle
of nowhere. She surveyed the rolling hills spread in all directions as she disembarked. Her blood ran cold.
“Don’t tell me I’m in Kansas,” she asked the pilot.
“I’m afraid I can’t disclose that information,” he replied.
She studied the landscape, the bluestem grass, the bur oak trees, the fringe-leaf ruellia. She knew it like she knew the sinister laugh of her greatest enemies.
“Kansas. Shit.”
Connie thought about turning around and telling the pilot to fly her home. Kansas had always been her kryptonite, the place where the universe loved to screw with her. But she’d come this far.
A limo waited for her. The driver carried a sign with her name on it, as if anyone else would be here in this three-hangar, one-runway stop. He opened the door for her, and she sat in back. The jet-black windows offered no view. She leaned back, closed her eyes, and thought about nothing until the car came to a stop again forty-five minutes later.
A statuesque brunette in horn-rimmed glasses opened the door. She stood a good foot taller than Connie. Her gray suit was impeccably tailored and wrinkle-free. Connie scanned for any signs of weapons, a slight bulge under the jacket, a hidden knife up a sleeve. She spotted nothing, and that only made her nervous. The unarmed ones were the ones to watch out for.
Connie stepped out of the car and surveyed the Spanish villa before her. She hadn’t known what to expect. Supervillain lairs came in a hundred different varieties. This one was beautiful but unassuming. Aside from the fact that it sat in the middle of Nowhere, Kansas, it didn’t stand out. Guards in matching black jumpsuits were stationed at the gates and along the walls. A black helicopter passed overhead.
“Ms. Verity, I’m Lord Peril’s personal valet, Apollonia. If you should need anything during your stay here, please do let us know.”
“Uh-huh.”
Connie measured Apollonia. She was a tower of a woman, not just tall but solidly built. She turned and strode toward the villa with a sturdy grace, like a big cat that knew you were only alive because she hadn’t found a reason to eat you yet.
“Someone will fetch your bags. This way, Ms. Verity.”
“Uh-huh,” said Connie.
She wondered if she should say something witty, but nothing came to mind. There should’ve been some clever line about villas in Kansas, but damned if she could find it. She was off her game. Once she cleared the air with Larry, she’d be better.
Constance Verity Saves the World Page 8