V Is for Villain

by Peter Moore

  “It was probably a spontaneous mutation that occurred a while after conception. Though it’s also possible that he got it, too. Being that telepathy is illegal, most people who have the ability don’t make the effort to develop it.”

  “Or they do and they don’t get caught.”

  “That, too. Some of them, though, don’t even realize they have the capability. Some of these people just think they’re very insightful about other people’s thoughts and emotions. How did you find out about your telepathy?”

  “I had some help.” I looked at the twisted ladders on the screen: Blake’s full of color and powers, mine pale and dull. I shook my head. “What are the odds that Blake’s DNA and mine would be so completely different?”

  “Not very high. They were originally…much more alike.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “You were part of an experiment in knockout genes, which are—”

  “I know what knockout genes are. They’re used to suppress traits, basically to inactivate the genes in the organism. So, what? They used knockout genes on my DNA to repress my powered genes? Is that it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Which is why they’re all white Regular genes, instead of blue and red and the rest, like on Blake’s.”

  “That’s pretty accurate,” Mom said.

  “So I could have had all those powered genes if they hadn’t been knocked out.”

  “Yes.”

  “I would have had strength, flight, all the powers Blake has.”

  “In theory, yes.”

  “All I had was the intelligence gene. And the hidden telepathy gene.”

  “Right.”

  “I was an embryonic felon.”

  “You could say that.”

  I pointed toward the right side of the screen. “What’s that mean?”

  “What, your birthday?”

  “No, below it.” I tapped my fingertip on the screen. “What does DOC mean?”

  “‘Date of conception.’ What does that have to do with—”

  “Well, then, that’s a mistake. This DNA with my name has the same DOC as Blake’s.”

  She took a deep breath. “It’s not wrong.”

  “How can that be? We’re almost five years apart.” I laughed. “So, what, you walked around with me in your belly until I was ready for kindergarten?”

  Mom looked at the DNA models once more and then turned away from the screen. And from me. “You and Blake were both conceived at the same time.”

  “I don’t follow you. How could we have been conceived at the same time but born more than four years apart?”

  Mom got up and walked to the window. “Like I said, you and Blake were part of an experiment. Blake was the control: they didn’t knock out any of his genes, and the prediction was that he would develop with fully powered DNA. But they identified your powered genes and knocked them out, one by one. When you were embryos and your father found out the details of the experiment, that you wouldn’t grow up to have powers like Blake, well, your father…” She trailed off and kept her gaze from mine.

  “What?”

  No answer.

  “My father what?”

  She swallowed a couple of times. “There’s no way to say this without it sounding terrible. So I’ll just say it. Your father didn’t want to have a child who didn’t have powers. He didn’t want me to be implanted with the other embryo.”

  “Me.”

  “You. We disagreed about it, argued a lot. And then, well, he was killed in the line of duty. And I wanted to be implanted with you. They offered to reverse the knockout genes and give you all your powers.”

  “So why didn’t they?”

  “I didn’t let them. I didn’t want another hero. I didn’t want another person I loved to be in the path of danger. I wanted a normal life for you.”

  “Didn’t exactly work as planned, it would seem.”

  “Few things do.”

  “Why…” I trailed off, trying to put my thoughts in order.

  “Why what?”

  “Why would you agree to be part of an experiment like this?”

  “We had trouble conceiving. We wanted children. This was offered to us, and we took it. I don’t regret doing it. If we hadn’t, we wouldn’t have had Blake and you.”

  I looked at the computer screen and used the trackpad to rotate each double helix several times. “I just can’t get over how, except for the colors, they’re almost exactly alike.”

  “Actually, aside from those things, which as I said were manipulated in the lab, they are exactly alike.”

  Okay, I was no geneticist, but as far as I knew, same date of conception and same original genes could really mean only one thing. “Are you telling me that Blake and I are identical twins?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Something like that, or that exactly?”

  “Well, yes, you started out as identical twins, but with the genetic differences between you now, technically you’re not identical. Anymore.”

  I sat down on the couch. I just couldn’t take in everything I was finding out. “Five years apart and nothing alike, and we were once identical.”

  “Who cares what we call it,” came a familiar voice from behind me. “Whichever way you cut it, we’re still brothers, right?”

  Mom and I both turned to see Blake’s bulky form filling the study doorway.

  Brothers-in-Arms

  He walked into the room and sat heavily on the couch, staring at me. “Right? Brothers-in-arms. Like it or not,” he said.

  “Not.”

  “Ha! I feel the same way,” he said. “I guess brothers-in-arms isn’t the right phrase, anyway, right? I think it means people who fight on the same side and rely on each other. So it doesn’t apply at all to us, does it, now? We’ve actually been on opposite sides. Is there a word for that?”

  “There are a few. Opponents. Antagonists. Adversaries. Foes. Enemies. Should I go on?”

  “What are you two talking about?” Mom asked.

  Blake flashed her the smile. “Oh, nothing important, Ma. Just that your younger son has gotten a political side to him recently. Odd views, he’s got. Very disappointing. Disturbing, in fact.”

  “Funny how you just happened to drop by at this particular moment,” I said.

  “I called him,” Mom said.

  I knew it. I just knew it. “Why, Mom? Why would you do that?”

  “Because you were acting so…not like yourself. I got concerned.”

  “And so you called him? To come to the rescue?”

  “Brad, he’s your brother. Of course he wants to help—”

  “I don’t need help. Not from him.”

  “Ah, it’s no problem at all,” Blake said. “I was on my way out to a job. It was no problem at all to pop on over.”

  “I thought you weren’t working,” I said.

  “I wasn’t. But duty calls, as they say. Thanks to your efforts to betray the heroes and all that time spent with the lowlifes at your school, not to mention your new…friends outside of school.”

  “Brad?” Mom said. “What is he talking about?”

  “He may look puzzled, Ma,” Blake said, “but believe me, he knows exactly what I’m talking about. Right, Brad? Your new buddy? Starts with an M and rhymes with…um, let’s see…new-tage-un.”

  “I’m done here,” I said. I got up, but there was a blur of movement, and then Blake was standing in front of the door before I had taken two steps.

  “Sit down, little brother.”

  There was absolutely no point whatsoever in trying to get past him. I turned and took a couple of steps to stand in front of the bookshelves. “Oh, yeah. As you heard, we’re twins, so I’m tec
hnically not your little brother anymore.”

  “Well, yeah, you are. You’re still way smaller and considerably weaker than me, so you’ll be ‘little brother’ unless I decide on something worse.”

  “Did you just say considerably? That’s quite a big word for you. Where’d you learn it?”

  “Brad, for all your intelligence, you’re not too bright. Did you look carefully at my gene map? I’m assuming you didn’t, or you would have noticed that they didn’t knock out my intelligence. It’s all theater, genius. I act dim so people—especially enemies—will underestimate me. It gives me a considerable edge.”

  I said, “Well, all that’s just great to hear, Blake, but I have a friend waiting for me and we have somewhere to be….”

  “Don’t worry about your friend. Janet is sitting with Layla in the living room. They’re discussing a few things, getting some info on your new colleague and his location.”

  “Janet is…I’m telling you now, Blake. If she does anything—anything at all—to hurt Layla—”

  “Don’t try to threaten me, Brad. You’ll just embarrass yourself. And anyway, Janet isn’t planning to hurt her. She just wants some information, and as long as your little girlfriend gives it up—”

  I’ll admit I wasn’t thinking clearly when I charged at Blake and took a wild swing, a great big roundhouse punch, at his face. He didn’t even bother to dodge. He let my hand connect, which only sent a bee-sting buzz up my arm, as if I had punched a tree. Of course, it didn’t harm him in the least.

  “That was smart,” he said. “Look, no matter what you believe, we’re the good guys. We don’t torture people for information. We ask for it and we usually get what we ask for quickly, so we don’t have to resort to other methods. Make no mistake, though: if it’s for the greater good, we do what we have to do.”

  The best thing for me to do, obviously, was to get into his mind and get him out of my way. But when I tried to do a clandestine command projection, I couldn’t.

  Blake shook his head. “No, no. Nice try. You really didn’t notice the orange plugs in my ears?”

  “Actually, no, I didn’t.”

  Blake turned his head sideways and then I could see a little orange nub sticking out of his ear canal. “Yeah, these were invented by Pneumatica of the Vindicators. They send out signals that block any kind of mind incursion. So whatever it is you had in mind, to put in my mind, don’t bother trying. Now sit down and stop making a fool of yourself.”

  Again, I wasn’t going to take orders from him. I stood behind the couch, leaning on it.

  “Somebody needs to tell me what’s going on,” Mom said.

  “You want to tell her, or should I?” Blake asked.

  “Be my guest.”

  “Brad here has been having himself a little adventure. He’s been playing at being a villain, but he didn’t realize he was in way over his head. This may be hard to believe, but he and his little playmates have been trying to work with Mutagion—yes, the Mutagion—in an effort to sabotage heroes. But they’ve been swimming in much deeper waters than they realized, and all they’ve done is helped the Justice Force and a few other teams get ready to take down Mutagion and his pals once and for all.”

  “You’re just going to kill every one of them, aren’t you?”

  “Yup, just like they killed our father.”

  “These Phaetons aren’t the ones accused of killing him. Those Phaetons are long dead.”

  “What’s the difference? They’re still part of the same evil, and they killed him.”

  “Allegedly. There are different theories about that.”

  “Oh, I’ve heard those ‘theories’ plenty, believe me. Crackpot ideas about it being a government setup, that it was a trap for Phaetons and the whole thing went wrong, ending up with Dad getting killed.”

  “How about that it was a Justice Force ambush of Phaetons that went wrong, and the government was really responsible because of a screwup in timing? Then the Phaetons were blamed, just like they always—”

  Tendons stood out like steel cables in Blake’s neck. “I don’t buy it. I don’t buy any of it. He was killed by Phaetons in a sneak attack at the Hoover Dam incident, end of story.”

  “You were three and you weren’t there.”

  “You were nothing, and you weren’t there, either! You didn’t even know him. And anyway, how can you side with the Phaetons against our father?”

  “It’s not so much that I’m siding with Phaetons, but much more that I’m siding against you and your hero pals.”

  “You disgust me. I’m ashamed to have you as a brother.”

  “Then we’re even. I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

  “It’s my fault,” Mom said, true grief in her voice. “I should have told you the truth long ago. Please, though, this anger, or hatred toward Blake—you have to let it go.”

  Blake ignored her. “I don’t have time for this. The Justice Force has some scores to settle and Phaetons to exterminate. And whether you like it or not, little brother, that’s where I’m going after I leave here.”

  “What about your injuries?” I asked.

  Mom said, “What injuries? You never told me you had injuries.”

  Blake glared at me for bringing them up in front of her. But as far as I was concerned, all bets were off. Especially after he pulled Layla into it.

  “Don’t you worry about my injuries. They were minor and they’re healed,” he said.

  I shook my head. “Not that I especially care, Blake, but if you go into battle with the injuries you told me about, you’re going to get your—”

  “I said not to worry about them. There’s one thing I have to worry about, though.”

  I wasn’t going to ask, but Mom did. “What’s that?”

  “Well, our little dissident rebel here is likely to make trouble for the Justice Force and our allies. I wouldn’t put it past him to warn the enemy that we’re coming, which would basically be an act of treason.”

  “Treason?” I asked. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Treachery? Betrayal? Take your pick. Anyway, I need to stop you from doing that.”

  “Blake, you are not going to hurt him,” Mom said.

  “Well, maybe a tiny bit, just to make sure that he doesn’t do anything to jeopardize the safety of all the heroes about to go into battle. See, Brad, I was born to do this. You? You were born to do nothing.”

  I’ll tell the truth here: I probably would have killed Blake at that moment if I could. But I couldn’t and I knew it.

  “Brad, lie down on the couch, there.”

  I looked at him.

  “Listen, you can do it, or I can make you do it. Your choice.”

  “I’ll do it if you swear to me that you’re going to leave Layla alone and not harm her.”

  “You’re not in a position to make any demands, but no, my aim here is not to hurt her. I just need to make sure that you’re not going to do something stupid. So. Now. Lie on the couch.”

  “Blake, don’t,” Mom said.

  “Mom, relax. I’m not going to do anything serious. Or at least, nothing permanent. Are you comfortable?” he asked me, as if it mattered.

  “I’m super. Could fall asleep right now, just staring at the ceiling.”

  “Good,” he said. He got down on one knee next to the couch.

  “Why is there dried blood on your cheek?” I asked.

  “What are you talking about? There isn’t.”

  “I’m looking right at it. Just a drop, but it’s there,” I said, staring at the tiny rust-colored dot.

  He wiped at his cheek. “It probably was from when you just hit me.”

  “You wouldn’t bleed from that.”

  “Well, anyway, it’s off.”

 
“Whose blood was that?” I asked, but I already knew.

  “Just relax and don’t move,” he said. He slid his hand under my neck.

  It all made sense. “You killed Caliban.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but just don’t move.”

  His left hand clamped down on my forehead, pinning me to the couch. He felt around the back of my neck with the fingers of his right hand, probing.

  “What are you—”

  “Don’t talk and don’t move. This may hurt a little bit, but it’ll be fast.”

  Just as I realized what he was going to do, as I was about to speak, my world went white.

  A Pain in the Neck

  You okay?” Blake asked.

  It took a couple of seconds for me to remember where I was and why I had white-hot pain in the back of my neck and down into my shoulders, even if the intensity of the pain was starting to diminish.

  “No, no, no! Don’t move your head, not at all,” he said. “Okay, now. Sorry to do this, but you didn’t leave me much choice. I disconnected the titanium appliance they put in your neck to replace all the crushed vertebrae from that event on the flashbang field. So, basically, I have your spine unplugged from your brain. You want to hit me again? Go ahead.”

  And, of course, I couldn’t. I couldn’t move any part of my body below my neck. My legs and arms—I was completely paralyzed.

  “Don’t worry, brother,” he said. “This is strictly temporary. Now, you can try to get some neurosurgeons to do it. Major surgery, probably six hours or so. But if you wait, when this is all over, I’ll set you right back up. I’ll even bring along the Justice Force medical team. The very best doctors in this or any other country. And we can talk then. We’ll get you all squared away.”

  “Go square yourself away. And you can also go—”

  Blake leaned a bit on my chest as he stood up, forcing all the air out of me. I followed him with my eyes as he walked to the door while I worked to get my breath back.

  “Okay,” he said. “Ma, I would recommend that you stay here and make absolutely sure he doesn’t move until I get back.”