At last she reaches the charred remains of her village. For a moment she waits for another surge of memory, but none comes. Perhaps it’s because the ground has been wiped clean, the ghosts exorcised by the fire. It’s a pity the place is gone now, but given the impermanent nature of the structures it shouldn’t be too difficult to rebuild. Perhaps she could arrange for some lumber, shingles, and other materials to make sturdier homes for her people.
She shakes her head. It’s a good thing no one is around to listen to her. She sounds like such a colonialist. What she hadn’t told Diane is that the people of this village—her village—had not exactly given her a hero’s welcome. They would certainly have run her out of the area if they hadn’t so desperately needed the food and water. They didn’t consider her one of them, even if her skin was the same color as theirs. She had continued to hope for one of those ceremonies where they welcomed her back into the tribe, but everyone had maintained their distance. The parents refused to let the children speak to her without supervision, as if she might abscond with them like a witch in a storybook.
Khala tramps away glumly from the remains of the village. This place has never been her home, nor will it ever be. Her real home is in England, in the sunny little house where she raised her children. She picks up the pace. The sooner she can leave this place, the better.
Chapter 10
The guards let her stay in the barracks while she waits for word to come back from on high. The cots are far from comfortable, but Melanie is tired enough not to care. Her weariness is more mental than physical after hours spent talking to various heads of state about releasing Klinsmann.
She can’t really blame them. A weasel like Klinsmann will probably try to escape the first chance he—or she by then—gets. There are precautions they can take like an electronic tether, but a scientist like Klinsmann might be able to find a way around that. Melanie’s suggestion was to implant a tracking device, one small enough that Klinsmann couldn’t remove it without significant medical help. She’s not sure if that will assuage their fears enough to agree.
In the meantime she had already sent a message to Sally to relay to Alan in his lab. She wants him to go to Klinsmann’s lab in the Outback to examine what was going on there. She also sent a message to Tonya to get her opinion. Now that those messages have been sent, there’s nothing for her to do but sleep—or try to.
The catsuit is at least comfortable enough to sleep in once she takes off the cape. It’s more comfortable really than her normal clothes. It reminds her of the pajamas she used to wear as a kid. It seems so long ago she was a little boy in Power Rangers and Ninja Turtles pajamas, getting kissed on the forehead by Mom and Dad.
Not even in his wildest fantasies had he ever imagined this is how life would turn out. Obviously he’d never fantasized about becoming a girl. He had thought of becoming a superhero, it’s part of what had drawn him to Robin, the way she’d disposed of bullies picking on him as if she were Batgirl—he hadn’t been far off the mark.
He’d always pictured it like in the comics and movies: the costume, the secret hideout, and beating up both super- and non-supervillains. Instead she had an office, paperwork, and meetings like any normal office drone. She had shady backroom deals to make with criminals instead of beating them up.
If Robin’s clone hadn’t allied herself with Omega, hadn’t used the alien sex-changing ray on the whole world, Melanie could be in Redoubt City, working some lame tech job in the day while at nights going out as Robin’s sidekick. Klinsmann had said she was much too young for this job and he was right. At twenty-three she is by most measures still a kid. At most companies she would be working an entry-level job. In another spy agency she’d be a lowly analyst at best, not the head spymaster.
She wonders if someone like Klinsmann can see these doubts. She’s never been very good at lying; she had been a good boy. Somehow lying had become a major part of her job. All she can tell herself is that she’s trying to do what she can to help the world. When the world needed someone to rally its few heroes, she had been the one in the best position to do anything. That’s the philosophy she’s maintained ever since. At what point will her attempts to help end up hurting the world?
Someone shines a flashlight into her face. She grunts and then swats at it as if it’s something more tangible than light. “Sorry, General, but there’s a situation the warden thought you should be aware of.”
Melanie rolls into a sitting position. She finds her beret to set it atop her hair to make her look more official. “What is it?”
“They’ve apprehended Hitter.”
“Apprehended? What are you talking about?”
“There’s a warrant out for his arrest. Someone spotted him and took him in.”
“His?” This word sends a jolt through Melanie’s body. She snatches her cape from the cot and then breaks into a run for the warden’s office.
***
All Tonya has to go on are grainy images of the staffs the Peacekeepers use. Not even Robin Holloway has anything better. Short of going to Kila to ask for a look at hers there’s not much she can do.
She runs a hand along her face and then takes a sip of cold coffee. Since she got the call from Melanie a few hours ago she’s gone through the archive of pictures of the Peacekeepers. They don’t look like much: a tube of black metal that like a Swiss Army knife can have various instruments pop out of its ends. Since they’re supposed to run on magic, she can’t even be sure there’s a power source in the traditional sense.
Frustrating as the job might be, she’s glad for it. All she’s done the last couple days is worry about Diane. Two years ago she—then he—would have barfed at the thought of sitting around blubbering like a lovesick teenager. He hadn’t been that way in high school or college. He hadn’t been a jock, but he’d never let himself get too attached to any of his few girlfriends. Even when Inertia, the only girl he’d ever considered marrying, had dumped him for her creepy phantom relationship with Velocity Man, he’d never felt this utter desolation inside. He’d pounded a few beers in a Focal City bar, cursed her up and down as a bitch and a cunt, and then gone home with some easy bimbo.
Now she can hardly think straight. It hadn’t ever been this bad before, not even when Diane had been in Australia for weeks. Since the invasion, most of Africa—especially the interior of the continent—is like a real-life Mad Max movie. There were a few sham governments, but mostly it’s a bunch of gangs or mercenary armies battling each other for turf. And Melanie had sent Diane into the middle of that. Without any backup.
As mad as she is at Melanie for that, she’s even madder at Diane for taking such a stupid assignment in the first place. She knows better than that. She knows how much Tonya is going to worry about her. And she does it anyway without batting an eye.
Tonya doesn’t need to be a dating expert to know a reformed assassin isn’t the best relationship material. On the hierarchy of her hatred, Tonya ranks herself second. Why did she think Diane would change? All that talk about settling down, becoming a teacher, it’s all a bunch of bullshit. She’s not the kind of person who would ever settle down like that. Tonya’s a complete idiot to think what they have would stop her from gallivanting around the world, kicking over any hornet’s nest that she came across.
She hates herself too for sitting around taking it the way her mother took all her father’s and her brother’s crap over the years. Is there something genetic that causes the Kinney women—or those who inadvertently become women—to allow abuse to be heaped upon them? She had always yearned for Mom to stop putting up with it, to make Dad stop drinking and take Brendan to a shrink. Now here she is doing the same goddamned thing, giving Diane chance after chance because she’s too damned scared to be on her own. Christ, Garlak is dumber than a post and she doesn’t seem to have any worry about being a single mother—to twins no less.
She growls like a dog when the phone rings and she sees it’s Melanie. Tonya taps the button to pick up. �
��I’ve barely even started. You could give me a few fucking hours—”
“I’m sorry, Tonya. It’s not that. It’s about Diane.”
Despite all her angry thoughts, Tonya immediately feels the tears threatening to burst from her. “She’s dead?”
“In a sense—”
“She’s brain damaged? Crippled?”
“No.” Melanie teases her by taking a deep breath before she says, “She became a man again. They found him outside a police station in Nairobi. They ran his prints and the arrest warrant came up.”
“A man? Why would she do that?”
“I don’t know. He’s on his way to Guontonimo. That’s where I am. I’ll see what I can do for him—”
Months of frustration and rage come out as Tonya screams, “This is your fault, you goddamned stupid cunt! You made her do this! You sent her there! You took her from me!”
“Tonya—”
“Shut the fuck up!” Tonya’s voice lowers to a menacing growl. “I’m going to get in my suit and come down there loaded for bear. You’re going to be the first one on my list.”
“Tonya, please—”
Tonya breaks off the connection. The phone rings again; she hurls it into a wall. She won’t get her money back from the cell phone store, but she doesn’t care. Right now she’s got a promise to keep.
Chapter 11
Melanie isn’t sure who will arrive first: the former Diane or her enraged girlfriend. In either case the entire prison is on alert. All of the prisoners have been locked down in their cells while all the reserve shifts of guards have been called in.
She’s considered calling Garlak or Starla for some extra muscle. In either case—especially with Garlak—she worries that might escalate the situation too much. There shouldn’t be a problem with Diane and with any luck Tonya won’t carry through on her threats once she’s had time to calm down—and sees the firepower arrayed against her.
Once again she goes through her inventory of nonlethal weapons, the shurikens, bolos, and Taser she used to carry as the Outcast and still carries as part of her General Gaia uniform. None of these will be especially helpful against Tonya, but they should all be able to subdue Diane if there’s any need for it.
She still can’t believe the story the warden told her. How would Diane change herself back to a man in the disputed territory of Africa? Even if she could, why would she let herself end up at a police station, knowing full well about the warrant? Maybe someone has a stolen machine and the temptation was too much for her to pass up. After the transition he would be weak, easy for someone to tie up and cart off to Nairobi.
Melanie can’t believe that. Diane’s had plenty of chances to use one of the machines in secret. For someone as skilled as she is, it would have been child’s play to sneak into a line somewhere with forged credentials or a bribe for someone to look the other way.
Had Tonya been more rational, Melanie might have asked if they’d had any relationship problems recently that could have driven Diane to it. Diane’s never been the type to talk about her love life; Melanie might never have known about her and Tonya if Tonya hadn’t spilled the beans. Still, Diane doesn’t seem the sort who’d run off in a snit and do something drastic like that.
The plane glides through the clouds, everything sounding normal. There’s no indication of any problems. It all seems perfectly normal. She’s witnessed prisoner transfers before as the Outcast and General Gaia; there seems nothing amiss with this one.
She doesn’t know why she keeps expecting trouble. The crew is supposed to keep Diane sedated until she’s safely inside the prison. It’s just a gut feeling that something is wrong with all of this. She had never used to get these feelings until she started to work with Robin, who always planned for every contingency. That sort of paranoia can be infectious.
The jet comes down for a perfect landing. As it begins to taxi, Melanie and a complement of guards ride out to meet the plane. She keeps one hand close to a shuriken as the plane comes to a stop and then opens its door.
A stewardess comes first. She’s blond, with a face much too pretty to be Diane in disguise. Her smile is just as pretty when she reaches Melanie. “You must be General Gaia. We could use a little help getting him down.”
“No problem.” Melanie motions for two men to go with the stewardess to fetch Diane. She considers going with them, but she would only get in the way. It would make her feel better to get there first, to make sure, rather than wait here.
It seems to take forever for the two men to emerge from the plane. During that time Melanie scans the skies in case Tonya shows up. The last thing she needs is for Ion Girl to swoop in and blow up the plane out of misplaced rage. Why did everything have to be so complicated?
At last they appear with a stretcher. The moment Melanie sees the man, she gasps. The last time she saw him, he had been trying to kill her. She’d barely made it to an escape pod on the Super Squad’s headquarters. The next time they’d met, the alien weapon had done its work on his body, leaving behind a scrawny, somewhat plain young woman.
He isn’t quite the same as she remembers. He’s wearing an olive tank top and camouflaged pants and his hair is still long, down to his shoulders. There’s a bit more facial hair than she remembers too, probably two days growth.
She hurries over to the stretcher to get a closer look. Her first glance was right: it is him. Darrien Giordano, also known as Hitter. “Diane, how could you?” she whispers. “I needed you. How could you?”
He doesn’t say anything. His eyes are closed and his breathing regular as he sleeps. She pokes him a few times to check for a reaction, but there’s nothing. “Get him inside. I want the infirmary locked down as soon as he’s in there. Move any patients with minor injuries out of there.”
They salute her, something she’s still not used to. She’s not really a military officer; her rank is honorary. She has as much right to be saluted as Colonel Sanders, but she returns the salutes anyway.
They hurry him over to the jeep. Then they’re on their way.
***
It’s hard to pick up a woman in combat armor on radar. The signature is so tiny it’s easy to write it off as a bird or something equally harmless. In this case Melanie insists to be alerted of any contact.
An hour after Diane—now Darrien—has been taken into the infirmary, Melanie’s phone rings. “We have a contact, ma’am. It’s moving fast.”
“Good. I’ll be out by the front gate.”
“Do you want an escort, ma’am?” a guard asks.
“No. I’ll be fine.” She forces a smile she doesn’t feel. It’s a long, lonely walk down to the front gates. She can’t be sure Tonya will land here. She might decide to bypass the doors and drop right through the roof. That’s if she knows where they’re keeping her former girlfriend. Tonya spent enough time in the prison as a man that she should know where the infirmary is; she could drop right in there. Melanie hopes it doesn’t come to that.
Against the evening sky it’s hard to make Tonya’s suit out except for a blur of light from her jets. A casual observer might mistake her for a falling star taking a circuitous route to the surface. Melanie keeps her hands away from her belt and the weapons in there; she doesn’t want to be the first to throw a punch.
That turns out not to be a problem as Tonya whizzes right towards her with her right fist cocked. The rocket-powered punch would be more than enough to take Melanie’s head off if she let it. She somersaults away and then reaches into her belt for one of the bolos. She hurls it at Tonya’s armored feet. The bolos are made with reinforced steel wire that’s strong enough to hold anyone except Garlak and Starla. Tonya steps aside enough that the bolo only wraps around one leg, where it’s practically useless.
She opens the facemask of her helmet so Melanie can see her red face with black streaks of mascara like war paint. “You bitch! You said you were our friend and this is how you do us?”
“Tonya, wait! I didn’t know anything about t
his. He was already in custody when they told me.”
“You’ve got connections. You could have sprung her.”
Tonya hefts her ion rifle. The moment she does, spotlights come on from the guard towers. Melanie knows there are machine guns up there pointing down at them now. Melanie lifts her arms to signal for them not to fire. “Tonya, stop this. You don’t want to hurt me.”
“The hell I don’t!”
“Maybe you do, but you can’t reach him like this, not even in that suit of yours. They’ll gun you down before you can get inside.”
“What am I supposed to do: surrender so you can put me back in here too?”
“I won’t do that, not unless you don’t stop this. Let’s talk this over.”
“Talking to you is what got us all in this mess to start with! You asked us to help you and then put bombs in our skulls! Then you told us to wait to change back. Then you said if we did, the government would arrest us. Why should I listen to more of your bullshit?”
“Remember what I told you at that car factory? You’re the smartest of them. You’re too smart to think you can get away with this.”
“Maybe I don’t care.”
“I do care. Whether you want to believe it or not right now, I’m your friend. I know there have been problems in the past, but we’ve been through so much. We’ve done so much good together. I don’t want you to throw it away.”
“Why shouldn’t I? I love her! And now—” As if someone’s pulled the plug on her armor, Tonya collapses to her knees. Melanie hears her sobbing. She hesitates a moment in case it’s a trick and then goes over to kneel beside the distraught girl. Tonya weakly swipes at her, but Melanie stays by her side.
“It’s all right. We’ll find out what happened. We’ll get him to change back.” Melanie tries to make her voice sound sunnier as she adds, “It’s a good thing you’re here. He’ll listen to you.”
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