Please Don't Tell My Parents I'm a Supervillain

by Richard Roberts

  I’d been totally obvious. He took another swallow of the beer, and pressed. “But how does it work? If you’re Bad Penny, you built it, right?”

  I didn’t know how it worked. My heart tightened with embarrassment. It got worse because he wasn’t even being a jerk about it. He wanted proof, yeah, but he gave me a minute to think while he peered into his beer bottle, pulled a vial of glowing green liquid out of a pocket, and cracked it open.

  I had to say something, but only the thing in the back of my head knew the answer. The same thing that took the sickly sweet smell of that green liquid and painted pictures I didn’t understand in the back of my head. Cybermancer had almost forgotten me as he lifted the vial up to the mouth of the beer bottle.

  Those pictures in my head clicked, and I lunged forward, grabbing the bottle in both hands. “Don’t do that!”

  He recoiled back into the couch. “Why not?” Now his voice had gotten sharper, and he really was angry.

  Why not? Because I didn’t want to be… be… “Does anyone have a pencil?”

  A black knife pulled open the drawer of a little brown table and flicked out a black magic marker. Relief flooded me as I caught it in both hands. I rushed over to the wall. I didn’t have words, but maybe pictures? I drew a bunch of interlocking lines. Grids of them. Make those two really thick, okay. Were these arrangements of atoms? They looked kind of like diagrams… okay, okay, the thing in my head didn’t like that. Just draw. It would let me go far enough to draw that this bit connected here, and to here, and to here. But those were physical shapes. I drew sweeping ovals to show how different parts were linked, then filled in the arrows for how the energy moved. There were a lot of them. A lot, a lot of them. I hoped Cybermancer got the message.

  Okay, that was close enough. The best I could do without making my power lock up. I sighed heavily and slapped the marker down on top of the fridge.

  “I surrender. She’s Bad Penny,” Cybermancer announced beside me. He twisted around farther to the opposite end of the couch so he could look over what I’d drawn. To my considerable relief, he also closed the lid on his vial of sludge.

  “Cy, what does that diagram say?” Lucyfar asked, her thin black eyebrows going up and her tone sharp.

  “That you don’t mix beer with magic science goo.” His worried, guarded tone and the hard stare he gave the wall filled me with even more relief. Yes, he’d understood.

  Lucy picked a small brown pillow off her recliner and threw it right past my face to bounce off Cybermancer’s head. “You ninnyhammer. The rest of us aren’t wearing protective shields!”

  “Yeah, I… sorry,” Cybermancer clumsily apologized, still staring at the wall.

  “Lucy?” Chimera broke in.

  Shooting him a suspicious glance, she asked, “Yeah?”

  “He ain’t wearing it, either.” A grin forced its way across Chimera face.

  Lucy let out a loud, incoherent growl and threw herself backwards, leaning her chair way back and sprawling her arms and legs over the edge. She lay there in melodramatic defeat, and that seemed to be the end of the fight.

  “You’ve captured the whole reaction,” Cybermancer murmured to me, not looking the slightest bit guilty anymore. “I’m impressed, yeah, but why couldn’t you just tell me?”

  No point in lying, I guess. “My power doesn’t work that way.”

  “Oh, one of those.” Eh? He’d accepted it immediately.

  “What, do a lot of mad scientists not understand what they’re building?” I blurted out.

  “You must have regular human parents. Or they’ve got a physical power, right?” he asked me. I didn’t answer that, and he went on as if he hadn’t expected me to. “A regular brain can’t hold a superhuman intellect. Everybody’s different, but it takes someone real scary like the Expert or Brian Akk to know what they’re doing in detail. Not a problem for me. I’m a puny little normal human, not a super brain.”

  He winked at me, and I dropped onto the couch at the far end from him. “Normal humans don’t carry around that…” I knew what it was. The information was there in my mind, but in the itchy way of a word I couldn’t quite remember.

  “I call it magic science goo. I’ve got three magical teammates, so it’s easy to make.” He lifted the bottle of beer to his lips, paused, and dropped it in a brown waste can. Laying an arm over the back of the couch so he could turn and look at me properly, he explained, “I don’t have a power, just a talent. I figured out how magic interacts with basic chemistry. It’s a separate layer of energy storage. Caused a big stir, then I got slapped down when I sent my theory to Brian Akk and he proved it was wrong.”

  “I’ve met him. He’s got a serious chip on his shoulder about magic,” I offered, hoping I wasn’t revealing too much.

  Cy shrugged. He didn’t look mad at all. “My theory may be wrong, but my model works. All I’m good at using it for is making explosives, but the community loves them. Even heroes buy from me sometimes. Speaking of…” He plunged his hands into two of his pockets. Not finding what he wanted, he sat up and tried again, and a third time. That one paid off. Out came a folded up pile of bills that he tossed into my lap.

  I stared at the cash. How much was that? The bill on top was a hundred, for pity’s sake! What was he doing? He’d just given me a stack of money, and yet he leaned forward and looked at me with wide eyes, like he was begging for a favor. “Can I buy that recipe on the wall off of you? A thousand is all I’ve got on me. I can’t steal someone else’s idea, but if I understand your markings it doesn’t just explode, it curses everyone caught in the blast.”

  Another cushion came sailing over to bounce off of Cy’s head. As he yelped and threw his arms up, Lucy snapped, “You are the biggest goober I’ve ever met! If I could find your pea brain, I’d feed it to a goldfish! It’s not enough blowing up the rest of us, you could have blown up Apparition!” That stopped her. Half-raised out of a still horizontal easy chair, she waved a hand at the shadowy corner next to her, and the gray girl floating in it. Looking suddenly guilty, she added, “Uh… kids, meet The Apparition. Apparition, The Inscrutable Machine.”

  I had just enough time to mumble, “Yeah, sure… you can have it,” before Claire came charging across the room.

  “You really are The Apparition! I know, I’m sorry, I’m gushing, but I’ve only seen drawings of you. Your image doesn’t capture on film! But, I mean, you know that.” Claire squealed all of that in a rush, then giggled nervously and twisted her hands together. Her paws together, since she bear suit pajamas covered everything.

  I should give the money back. I couldn’t sell a supervillain an explosive recipe. It would be better just to give it to him. It would.

  As I gave up and stuffed the thousand dollars into my own pocket, I tried to cover by giving The Apparition a good look. Her feet didn’t touch the ground, and I could see the brown wood paneling through her gray. “Is she a ghost?” I guessed.

  Everybody looked at me. “I don’t follow supervillains, or even superheroes much,” I explained, feeling pretty lame.

  “And that’s what I like!” Lucyfar rolled forward out of her chair, snapping it upright as she stood up and raised her arms toward the brown ceiling. She almost clipped the brown ceiling fan. “So many of our comrades in arms are poseurs. They want the fame, or the money, or they’re imitating a big name villain. They’re not having fun! Let someone else judge if I’m a hero or villain. I’m free to enjoy my powers however I want!”

  “I thought we didn’t ask these kids over to talk business,” Apparition cut in. Cold, calm, and a little sour, or was that a very deadpan playfulness?

  “I love watching Lucy rant.” Chimera certainly didn’t hide his whimsical tone. Cy wasn’t even paying attention. He was scribbling down my formula. I wished him luck making sense of my super power’s wordless imagery. I wished him a thousand dollars of luck.

  “You’ve had your turns. Now it’s mine. Forget business. What do you guys do for fun? Wha
t are you into?” Apparition asked us.

  Chimera grunted. “They’re middle school kids, App. It’ll be stuff like computer games.”

  That dragged up Cybermancer’s attention long enough to give us a curious glance. “Do you all game? What do you play?”

  Shame is something that happens to people not named Lutra, so Claire answered for us. “Supervillainy is eating up our free time lately, but we’re Teddy Bears and Machine Guns players.”

  A high pitched shriek sent me jumping an inch into the air. What the… ?

  I didn’t get time to finish the thought. “You play Teddy Bears and Machine Guns?!” Apparition demanded. She flew out of her corner, grabbing Claire’s shoulders first, then Ray’s, then mine. I felt her fingers gripping me, but at the same time they felt more cold than a physical touch. I guess she really was a ghost. Her pale face floated right in front of mine, and even her giddy enthusiasm couldn’t completely erase lines of heavy tiredness from her face. “What side do you play?”

  “Toybox. I like my adorable armies,” Claire answered.

  Ray’s turn. “Junkyard. There’s always a new combination.”

  “Candy?” I hazarded. It was a little harder to be glib while seeing the room through Apparition’s transparent head.

  “I’m a Candy player, too!” Apparition squealed. She let go of my shoulders and sank back into her dark corner with a heavy sigh. “Not as often as I like. I’ve only gotten to play a few times. I can’t touch a computer without possessing someone first.”

  Claire did the curious head tilt. “I would think you’d like Toybox for the tricks.”

  That got a giggle. Okay, a wistful giggle, but Apparition clearly liked talking about this. I couldn’t blame her. Who doesn’t love discussing their Teddy Bears and Machine Guns strategy? “That’s the beauty of it. I win with Toybox and Junkyard. Candy builds up so fast I can push an early raid, but instead of trying to do damage I steal parts with Want Some Candy, and then use my raiding force to fight off the other side while I build. It’s risky, but if it works I crush them with their own powers!”

  Claire hmmed. “I’ve tried to do that with Wind Up Keys, but if I devote that much time to building them, someone rolls over me.” Motion caught my eye. Cy beckoned me with a finger. He held up the notepad he’d been copying my formula onto.

  Chimera stepped away from the wall, and addressed Ray. “Hey, Reviled. How long have you had your powers? You gotten into Parkour yet?”

  “Wait! Wait wait wait wait wait,” Apparition interrupted us all, floating out into the middle of the room and holding out her hands. She looked over her shoulder at Lucyfar, who’d fallen back into her recliner again. “Is today Saturday?”

  That yanked Lucyfar up. “We should take them to Chinatown,” she announced.

  “Yes,” Chimera and Cybermancer agreed together.

  “I don’t think we have the time,” Claire half-answered.

  She was right. Besides, they were so gleeful, it freaked me out. I tried to sound apologetic. “If we don’t get home before dark, our secret identities are busted.”

  “We’ll go tomorrow!” Lucyfar offered, leaning forward out of her chair with a look of, well, demonic eagerness.

  The Apparition slapped it off of her. Literally, although I didn’t know what that spectral hand across the cheek actually felt like. Lucy’s head did recoil maybe an inch, but the blow didn’t make any sound. “We’re making them feel pressured, Lucy. They’re cool, but they’re kids, and the community is brand new to them. They’re not even used to being supervillains yet.” She looked straight at me and added, “I’m sorry, but it’s pretty obvious.”

  Lucyfar raised her hands. “Okay, okay. We’ll let them bow out gracefully just this once. Maybe later.” She gave Claire a wink, and added, “I know I’ll be seeing you. The Inscrutable Machine is welcome here any time. Especially weekends.”

  I looked at Claire and Ray. They nodded, although I wasn’t quite sure what question I’d asked or what they’d answered. Ray opened the door, standing on the other side and bowing deeply. “Ladies,” he offered with an outstretched arm.

  Claire and I hurried out into the arcade. Just on the other side of the door, I glanced back. The Apparition was closest to us. She’d floated nearer the door.

  I lowered my voice as far as I could without being drowned out by the arcade’s noise. “I’m sorry I asked about your origin. It can’t be a fun topic. It was thoughtless of me.”

  “You’re not sure which side you’re on yet. It’s written all over your face. Trust me, Bad Penny, you just proved you’re meant to be a supervillain,” came the breathy reply.

  I nodded to that, turned around, and scurried a few quick steps to catch up to my friends. What could I have said? I thought I’d just proven the opposite!

  Ray pulled off his bird mask, then suddenly slapped his other hand over his face. “I was talking to Lucyfar, and I didn’t get her autograph.”

  Claire grinned wickedly, and leaned in to give him a nudge with her whole body. “Pretty soon, they’ll be asking to trade.”

  ended up taking the Red Line most of the way back. There was no way I could manage biking all the way from downtown, even with the teleport rings. My serum-enhanced best friends, on the other hand, were fresh and eager to return to their homes the hard way. Claire giddily assured me before gliding away that a girl skating down the street in teddy bear pajamas got photographed by everyone.

  I wasn’t mad, but I really wished I’d saved a couple of drops of serum for myself by the time I pedaled up to my parents’ driveway. I pushed my bike into the empty garage and hoped my knees weren’t visibly wobbly. With the car gone, my parents might be out and it might be moot. I slid the teleport bracelets into my pockets anyway.

  I’d just stepped into the kitchen when Dad leaned out of his workshop and looked down the hall at me. “Hey, Pumpkin! You look tired.”

  Yes, I bet I looked tired. From his casually cheerful tone, he didn’t have an inkling why. “Yeah. We ended up going down to the library,” I acknowledged. Telling ninety percent of the truth had worked for me so far.

  He tapped away at his phone instead of answering me, so when he did look up it was to explain, “Just sending your mother a message that you’re home and she had nothing to worry about.”

  This was Dad and not Mom, and I was all the way down the hall. I could get away with, “Why would she be worried? Nobody attacks three kids on the subway in the middle of the day.”

  “The Inscrutable Machine defeated a couple of sidekicks again this morning,” Dad answered me.

  I’d known he knew. I just still didn’t know what to say about it. “Already?”

  Apparently, I sounded nervous.

  “They move fast. Gabriel was there, and he videotaped it for his internet project. Come back here, and I’ll show you the footage. That might take all your fears away,” he called down.

  I couldn’t refuse. I padded down the hall and into his laboratory. He’d rearranged his equipment with an ease that made envy nibble at my gut. What was this plastic machine with all the readouts arranged around a big cylindrical tank? What was the not-quite-clear green liquid inside? I smelled chlorine, but my power didn’t react.

  Dad lifted up and put back down his keyboard and mouse, then cleared the screen of the programs linked to the new machine. Instead he brought up a video file, “TIM2c,” appropriately enough.

  “Trust me, Pumpkin. This will make you feel better.” I couldn’t see how watching a recording of my own supervillainy with my father could make me less nervous, but I didn’t have any good excuses. I grabbed a pen and wrote “P Jar – II” on a sheet of paper by his keyboard as the video sprang up.

  The video was terrible. What was that white mess I was looking at? Over a lot of rustling a girl said something about gang wars. What a snotty voice. Then another girl answered her, and, as hard as it was to make out the words, the two seemed to be in a competition for who could be most sarcastic
. In fact, I caught the words “quality sarcasm time”—

  Wait, was that me? Was that what I sounded like? In answer, the white mess of a wing cleared away. Gabriel was watching from the roof, back out of my range of vision like an actually serious superhero. I got to watch Marcia answer, and I could clearly make out the words “quiet and appreciative when you give your villainous monologues.” What a lousy video. It didn’t sound like her at all.

  Marcia made her comment about not being outnumbered, and the parking lot disappeared in favor of roof asphalt as Gabriel crept around some more. People talked low. I couldn’t make out the words, until I caught “Gabriel” and I heard Gabriel sigh into the microphone. The view jolted as he stood up, then jumped lightly down, drifting to the thumping of his six wings until he settled on the pavement of the parking lot. Oh, geez. That was me and Ray. My jumpsuit looked like stormtrooper armor from this side.

  And then, “Gabriel! I read your blog! What are you doing here?!” squealed deafeningly out of the video, and rather than a superhero/supervillain battle, I found myself watching the Girl in a Bear Suit Show.

  I stared. I was being treated to what should have been a close-up of Claire as she and Gabriel chatted, but it wasn’t. Who was this girl? Claire didn’t have a dimple. I’d been seeing Claire’s smile most of our lives, and she didn’t.

  Or did she, with her power turned up high? What exactly did she look like then? All I could remember were eyes and a mouth, those oh-so-serious expressions she was giving Gabriel now.

  You little vixen, Claire. You knew all along your secret identity was completely safe. Your Mom must have known as well. You little shape-changing vixen.

  My mouth was hanging open. I closed it, and unwound The Machine from my wrist to cover my embarrassment. Dad read that his own way. “This is why I wanted you to see this. Your mother and a lot of the adult community are having fits, but for no reason. Gabriel saw it immediately. These kids aren’t evil. They’ll pick fights with other supers until they lose. Until then, maybe they can teach our children this isn’t a game. Watch what happens next.”