Please Don't Tell My Parents I've Got Henchmen

by Richard Roberts

  “Thanks!” she said, peeking inside the door of the room across from his office to show she was listening. When she'd moved on out of his sight, she whispered, “See? We don't have to turn off alarms or worry about being spotted. We act natural, pick up our prize, and walk out. Mom stole an incredible amount of money from self-centered rich guys who assumed a stunning blonde in a bikini must have a good reason for hanging around.”

  “So what are we taking?”

  “You saw the letter. There was no list. We'll look around and see what looks supervillainy. Something you can use for future missions.”

  So we did just that, untroubled and occasionally given friendly smiles by the few researchers. The sign inside the first door we checked read 'Mobile potatoes and sourceless lights.' Sure enough, a terrarium on one side of the room had a bunch of potatoes rolling around, and another bouncing in a jar with electrodes stuck through it. The room was well lit, but the paneled ceiling lights were out.

  Not really villainous stuff. We checked another. I grabbed the VR helmet again for a better view.

  “'Hole' (unidentified) and self-replicating fabricovo- hey, it's a zombie rag doll!” Claire crowded up close, and she and I looked over the doll. Sure enough. About the size of a big pillow, made of mismatched stitched-together bits of cloth, metal bear trap teeth. This one was shackled to a tray, in the bed of a machine that showed 3D images of the circuitry in its lining.

  “Do you want to take it?” I asked.

  “Don't need it. I have one at home in case we ever need a new army. I wish the records of who made these weren't lost. Do you think someone stole one of yours? Or came up with the same thing independently? And what's that other thing? It doesn't… look like… anything, really.” Claire's enthusiasm slowed down, replaced by a puzzled squint as she stared at the other invention across the room.

  It looked like something to me. It looked like a black, jaggedly irregular hole ringed with cracks, like you might leave if you stabbed a sheet of glass. It floated above a little rectangular nine-volt battery, and was maybe the size of two quarters together. All kinds of little boxes ringed it, pointing antennae and electrodes and whatever, with readouts measuring different kinds of energy.

  A gold-colored eye with a cross-shaped pupil floated into view on the other side of the hole, and looked at us.

  I jammed my hands into the waldos, reached up, and tugged on Claire's face. “Okay, we're done here. We don't want that. Out. Out!”

  “Sure. Okay. It's nothing.” Claire came at least partly back to life as soon as I turned her gaze away, and by the time she walked out of the room, she had her full energy back.

  I watched over her shoulder, and the eye watched me back. Just before the door shut, it turned pink, with a heart-shaped pupil. That did not remotely reassure me.

  Like nothing had happened, Claire rubbed her finger against her lips, looking up and down the hall. “I'm getting the feeling the tech gets higher the farther down you go. Let's go straight to the high end. Maybe there'll be something like Vera!”

  “We're not going to find anything as powerful as a Conqueror Orb,” I said, trying to sound jaded and knowledgeable, but itching with curiosity.

  So, we walked down a nice white corridor, with fake-marble tiles on the floor, past little doors with little windows and little numbers painted on little flags that stuck out of the wall. A plump guy with alert eyes that only dimmed a little in the presence of Claire's power stood in one of the doorways. He bent down to peer at me, and I looked back at him, only feeling stupid about revealing I could move when it was already way too late.

  When Claire passed him, he straightened up again, and gave a little golf clap. “Very nice. I'll want to take a look at that later.”

  “Thanks! I'll leave it in 818!” Claire called back. And that was that.

  This crazy non-plan of hers was completely working.

  I had to read the Purloined Letter sometime.

  The fabled 818 was the last room before the outer wall. The little card on the door outside had four lines. The first two said 'Un Rep' and 'S Liq', with the other two blank. Once we pushed the door open, a little sign on the inside informed us that 'Un Rep' stood for 'Universal Repair Infection' and 'Sonic Liquefier.'

  As advertised, two tables on one side of the room were empty. On the far side, a thing like a miniature white jungle gym sat on a plate on one table, and a cross between a flashlight and a ray gun on the other. Both had computers around them, playing videos about the specimens, and no staff to interfere.

  “I like the sound of a sonic liquefier,” said Claire. The cat tail on her costume lashed once, and the ears waggled. Oh, neat. I hadn't known they were mechanical.

  The liquefier was the flashlight thing. It didn't just look like a flashlight, it looked like one of those big blackout flashlights with the separate handle and the bulky rectangular body designed to house a huge battery. Instead of a light bulb, it ended in a series of metal dishes ringed with black plastic, just like an oooooooold timey ray gun.

  A couple of petri dishes held a chunk of rock, and a pile of soft sand, both grey. The computer monitor had a looping video of the liquefier pointed at a rock, and the rock collapsing into sand. It also had a lot of oscilloscope readings playing, although why there should be more than one I had no idea.

  The 'Universal Repair Infection' sat next to a pocket watch, and the looping video on this computer showed the watch being smashed, the infection placed on it, sinking in, thrashing about, and then pulling out to leave the watch intact. The infection itself… yeah, it kinda did look like a jungle gym, or a cobweb, or maybe a sea urchin that didn't have a solid core. Lots of skinny white plastic arms stuck out, joined together in an irregular cage towards the middle. There were interesting microscopic close-ups of the internal workings of those plastic arms.

  Claire set me down on the table, so she could pick up the liquefier. I tried to figure out what I was looking at with the repair infection close-ups. The back of my head tickled, so I knew my power loved this thing.

  Pointing the liquefier at the remaining rock, Claire pushed the button. Sure enough, the rock dissolved into sand. She waved the liquefier at the wall, and plaster and sheet rock dissolved into dust, baring the wooden and metal supports, the wiring and the pipes.

  Smiling beatifically, Claire nodded. “Oh, yes, I'm taking this. We'll take them both. They're not big. The Machine is great, but it's not reliable for repairs. We might actually get to keep one of your inventions for more than five minutes!”

  A gross slander. Breakage was rarely the issue that kept me running through toys in the hurly-burly of villainous adventure. Then again, rarely wasn't the same as never. Claire might still have my broken sugar tank. If we could get that working, I would be a happy girl. It was a shame the air conditioner cannon was long gone. I'd have loved to have it back.

  I didn't know I was doing it until it was done, but my hands slipped into the waldo gloves, and my robot right hand rubbed my robot left wrist. Boy, did the feedback there feel weird. Not as weird as not having the Machine with me. In real life I did have it, curled around my left wrist like usual. But the robot didn't, and I was living through the robot right now.

  Weird, weird sensation.

  At that point, the world exploded in noise.

  I ripped off the VR helmet, screamed, and couldn't hear myself. Claire hunched down in pain. My real hand pawed at the control panel, turning down the volume. That had no effect. The speakers, both on the console and in the VR helmet, kept pounding out this head-splitting din.

  I hit mute. That worked. Ringing silence filled the summoning chamber.

  “Ray? Claire? Claire, can you hear me?” My voice sounded distant in the tinnitus aftermath.

  Ray nodded. “I can hear you.”

  Claire couldn't. She was recoiling from the robot, as if it was the source of the noise.

  What a din. A mess of synthesized computer noises mixed into a meaningless stew and play
ed at 'nuclear blast' volume. There had been a certain rhythm, though. Criminy buckets, that was music? Ew!

  Ray tapped away at his side keyboard. Claire stopped leaning away from the robot, but was still hunched up. One of the computers next to me had shut down. Both had smoke leaking out of their speaker ports. The light bulbs in the lamps on the tables had blown out. The fluorescent ceiling lights seemed fine.

  Claire said something. I shook my head. Great. She couldn't hear me, and I couldn't hear her.

  At least my robot was still working. The sonic interference was clearly not kind to electricity. Both monitors burned out while I watched. Criminy, maybe it was just because the whole building was vibrating.

  Motion on a side screen caught my attention. Someone ran down the hall past the door. I put on the VR helmet, and was ready when the wall opposite the door exploded.

  There was another corridor on that side, or maybe some kind of small lounge. The comfy chairs had been kicked aside, and sliced up by whatever cut a huge, neat circle in the outer wall of the building.

  Leading the competition for 'whatever' was the high school girl with the power gloves and the huge mad science backpack. She stood among the wreckage with fists clenched, her scowl the only part of her expression visible. The helmet, earphones, and green tinted plastic science lab goggles hid everything else. She wasn't quite as skinny and undeveloped as me, but her taller frame made it look more stretched out. The backpack dominated everything, disk-shaped, so big I was impressed she could wear it. Speakers stuck out of the underside at angles, like the nozzles of a jet pack, but… well, speakers. Black foam covers, you know?

  All of that mad science almost made me overlook the ratty jeans, unbuttoned and ripped up plaid flannel shirt, and white t-shirt underneath with a logo I didn't recognize. The boots were good. Big and stompy and brown leather.

  An index finger thickened by dull grey plastic pointed at the sonic liquefier. The gloves had more disks like speakers set into the knuckles, and buttons and little screens on the wrists.

  I wanted her gear so bad.

  From pointing at the liquefier, she went to pointing at herself. She said something. Obviously I couldn't hear a word, but I was pretty sure those slowly moving lips spelled out “Mine.” Some messages are not hard to get across.

  Claire's hair got curlier, shining like pure gold in the sunlight that came in through the broken wall. Even without the psychic part of her power hitting me, she was sickeningly adorable. The pleading look she gave the high schooler was badly marred by her constant wincing. Even with my robot's speakers turned off, the noise in that room must be sadistic.

  Her power on maximum, face always turned to the villainess in the backpack, Claire walked slowly over to the table, and reached for the liquefier.

  Not quite good enough. She had Backpack Girl motionless most of the way, but the blaring pseudo-music ate away at Claire's concentration. Just as she started to raise her hands towards the prize, one of the scrawny high schooler's fists trembled, and lashed out.

  The ray was invisible. Sound, presumably. The table exploded, knocking the legs off of the one next to it. Both tables, the liquefier, the computers, the busted lamps, and myself all collapsed onto the floor. There might have been a few other little machines I hadn't noticed until they fell on top of me, as well.

  My control chair twitched, echoing the impacts. It was like I could actually feel through the robot body. Super cool, but this was not time to appreciate it!

  Claire escaped the blast with an elegantly showy cartwheel, so our rival supervillainess, with what I thought was excellent strategy, blew a hole in the floor underneath her.

  Claire fell through, and her hand caught the edge of the gap on the way down. Hanging there, she pointed at me, then at our attacker. Then she dropped out of sight.

  It was a safe bet that nobody could hear anything in that room, so as I lay amidst and partly under the scattered junk, I tapped my robot's hands together. A pink and orange ball of light grew as I slowly pulled those hands apart.

  Too slowly. My advantage of surprise would last two seconds, tops. I threw the ball I had at the high schooler.

  Direct hit, right in her shoulder, pushing that aside and smashing into the backpack. The ball left a good sized hole in the pack near its edge, and loosely hanging cracks that suggested serious damage.

  That hit spun the girl around, and she fell into the mess herself. She landed on the universal repair infection. As good as its word, the white web sucked itself into the damaged backpack. Strands like sutures pulled the cracks shut. Bit by bit, the hole began patching closed.

  Dirty blonde hair spilled out of the back of the helmet. She had a fair amount of it. Not, like, 'Jupiter colonist' amount, but past her shoulders.

  To fire her gloves, she had to clench her fists, and they wobbled visibly. Admittedly, the whole room was shivering, but it was enough of a visual cue to give me time to react. I smacked a joystick, and with much more grace than I naturally possessed, my robot rolled out of the way of the two sonic blasts, and hopped to its feet. Debris got spread around a little more.

  That backpack was definitely heavy. Sonic Glove Girl was much slower and more wobbly getting to her feet. That gave me time to grab the Push Rod off my back, and hold it up two-handed, like a sword.

  I really hoped that I knew what I knew what I was doing with it.

  One power glove stayed balled up in a fist. The other pointed at me, and out the door. Then it held up its fingers, and counted down. Five. Four. Three. Two.

  Instead of 'one,' she fired her sonic blast at me. Bravo for quick thinking and willingness to cheat, whoever you are. This was the knack for combat that none of my schoolmates had.

  Unfortunately for her, I had the same knack. When her fist moved, I twisted a ring and swung the Push Rod in a scooping motion. Invisible force pushed her glove up, and she knocked a hole in the ceiling. She tried firing at me with the other glove, and a shove from the Push Rod sent the blast into the broken tables.

  A piece of wood flipped up, and the sonic liquefier rolled right up to her. She bent to pick it up, and I used the rod to pull the flashlight thing just out of reach.

  Half-crouched, breathing slow and heavy, the high schooler stared at me. After a few seconds, she grabbed her right wrist in her left hand.

  Criminy. She was too good at this. She'd spotted my weakness. The Push Rod wasn't very strong, or at least I didn't know how to make it strong. With both arms, she could hold herself steady.

  So I yanked one of her feet out from under her instead. While she landed on her back and tried to roll around enough to aim at me, I looked out the door, pressed a fingertip to my monitor right where I wanted it, and tapped a joystick.

  My robot teleported neatly out into the hall. Unlike using the bracers personally, I didn't feel the strain.

  Everything but the top of my head hidden, I peeked into the room to see what the girl was doing. Gratifyingly, the answer was 'spinning around trying to find me.' After all, she hadn't seen me teleport, and didn't know I could.

  That whole 'not stupid' thing came into play again. She spotted me, and I teleported across to the other side, way down from the door, in time to watch the frame where my head had been explode into splinters.

  “I don't suppose you can see her life signs through the wall?” I asked.

  Ray's voice, in reality only a few feet away, answered, “Yes, actually. She's still in there and not moving, but that's all I can give you. Between the jamming signal she puts out, all the shaking, and the music itself, all your other senses show me are shifting blobs.”

  I ran through my options. I had time to charge up a big energy blast, and I was positive I could hit her with it, either through teleporting or just shooting through the wall. That would win the fight, which was the problem. The girl did not look armored. A big enough ball to be sure I won ran a risk of reducing her to a Marcia-like splatter.

  Criminy. It was time to do my own cheati
ng. I flipped open the arm compartment, and poured a penny out into my palm. Tossing it into the doorway, I grabbed it with the Push Rod's powers, and knocked it into the room.

  There was no way I could aim it. That wasn't the point.

  The wall in front of me blew up. If I'd stood nearly close enough to see where my penny had gone, I'd have been caught in that.

  While my opponent focused on the rubble, I teleported past it, past the door entirely, and peeked in through the damaged frame. I saw the penny before the sonic girl could see me, flicked the Push Rod, and the penny flew up off the floor to stick to her pants leg.

  Ha!

  The effect was immediate, and everything I could hope for. She stopped being the cagey, cautious opponent I'd been facing and did the stupidest thing possible. She bent down and tried to pick the penny off. When it didn't pull right off, she twisted and scratched at it, obsessed.

  Claire stepped into the hallway behind our opponent. There was no way the high schooler could hear anything over her music, so all I had to do was keep her from turning around.

  Sticking the Push Rod back into place on my back, I stepped into the doorway, clapped my hands together, and pulled out an energy ball. I let it grow and grow, watching her. She, in turn, pressed some buttons on her gloves and held one up as if she were wearing a shield. No doubt she was, invisible and sound-based.

  The sonic villainess was standing nicely in the center of the room, focused on me. Claire walked around behind her, picked the sonic liquefier off the floor, and tugged the white repair infection web thing off the girl's backpack. Said backpack now looked to be in perfect condition, other than the white spikes that had been sticking out of it until Claire pulled them free.

  Claire didn't have to tiptoe. She just had to stay behind the girl. After walking back to the big open hole in the outer wall, she leaned out and fired her grappling hook upwards. Liquifier and repair web tucked into the corner of her arm, she beckoned me with her hand.

  I threw the energy ball at the ceiling, but didn't stand around to see if I got the shower of debris and dust I wanted. Target locked, I nudged my joystick and teleported up to Claire, wrapping my robot arms around her leg.