by R. J. Ross
"Zoe," Sunny says.
"Where does he get off just showing up here?" I demand, turning on my brother. "We were here for, like, two years! But even before that he never recognized us! And look at him! It's so obvious--"
"No one told me," the man sitting on the couch says. "And you don't tend to catch sight of kids yourself when you're stuck in the cells," he adds. I don't want to call him "Dad" right now, not even in my mental narrative.
"What do you want?" Sunny asks, still holding my wrist.
"Do you want me to be honest?" he asks.
"Yeah, we do," Sunny replies before I can.
"I've come here to claim you," Technico says, standing. "We've got a three room apartment near your new school--or what will be your new school when the building is finished. We're going to be a family."
"With a super villan Dad," I say darkly.
"Ex," he says. "This is part of my parole."
"You're telling me..." I start out after the shock has cooled slightly. It feels like he's slapped me. "We're just another little job you've got to do in order to keep out of prison? Pretend to be a father so you're not back behind bars? We're your tickets to freedom?"
He's silent for a moment before shrugging. "Something like that. Would you rather I lie and say I’ve always wanted children?” he asks before I can punch him. Not that punching him would work. “I only just found out about you today. I found out about a lot of things today--including your mother.”
I look at Sunny, then back at Technico. “And?” I prompt.
“I...” There’s a look of hesitation in his eyes and he looks away. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I’m really, really sorry.” Something about that tone has me hesitating. “Now go get your stuff. We’ve got things to do.”
I look at Sunny again. “Do we trust him?” I ask, uncaring that Technico is standing right there.
“I doubt it. But I’m sick of sharing a room,” he says. I nod and head for the stairs, not saying anything to the man that is my father. I wonder for a moment if we should call Max--then I realize I don’t have a phone, or for that matter, his phone number. Besides, we’ll see him at school tomorrow.
Why am I so intent on keeping him updated, anyway? It’s not like we’re dating!
“We need to talk,” Sunny hisses as he follows me up the stairs.
“He can probably still hear us,” I say.
“I can,” I hear him say from downstairs.
“That’s really annoying,” I call back as I head for my room. My duffel bag is still packed, so all I have to do is grab a few other things I would have left behind earlier and head for Sunny’s room to see how he’s doing.
“Should we really be doing this?” Sunny asks me as he finishes packing.
“He’s on parole,” I say. “He won’t do anything stupid. I’m not saying I like it--“
“Just the other day you were plotting exactly this!” he says.
“Yeah...” I feel like I was an idiot yesterday. But even as I think that, a tiny part of my heart is starting to be filled with hope. That’s probably the worst thing it could do. I’m trying to shove it down, but it’s not working very well.
“Maybe--maybe we won’t have to worry about hiding it so much now, though,” I say. “Even if he doesn’t like us, even if we’re just a job to him, at least he knows what we are. Maybe he can help us... figure it out,” I say.
Sunny doesn’t look too impressed with the idea. "Fine," he says, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "Let's go."
"I wish I could call Max," I find myself blurting out. He stares at me blankly. "I mean--what if something happens? How do we know we can--"
"You just said he's on parole, Zoe. He's not going to do anything to us!" Sunny says. "Come on, the sooner we go, the better."
I nod, situate my bags better, and head for the stairs again. There's other kids home by this time, heading for the dining area for dinner, as if nothing out of the norm is happening. Do they know? Probably. Do they care, though? Probably not. Max would. Maybe Trent would. Maybe I'm still an idiot, I think as I head down the stairs. Even if they just claimed to have our backs, we just started talking to them yesterday or today. Having powers isn't exactly a blood tie.
I stare at Technico, who's still lounging on the couch but now eating a plate of food, and realize that even blood ties are flimsy. "Your foster mom's a good cook," Technico comments as he finishes his food. "You might grab something before we go."
"What, no McDonalds?" I ask.
"I'm broke," Technico says. "Not for long, of course, but right now I don't have a dollar to my name. Go get food."
I look at Sunny then drop my bags on the floor and head into the dining area to grab a plate. I feel awkward, especially when everyone stares at us. "Aren't you moving out already?" Jack asks, speaking to me for the first time since that morning. He looks sullen.
"We're going to eat first--if that's okay, Marge?" Sunny says.
"It's fine, honey. This is still your home even if you're moving away, you know. You're both welcome to come over any time."
"Thanks," I say, feeling guilty for some reason. Maybe I was wrong to look at her so cynically. There was more than just money involved, by the way she worked so hard to keep us fed properly and clothed. I just... I just kept comparing it to what I used to have. "For... you know, everything," I add as I take my seat and start to eat.
"Yeah," Sunny agrees. "For everything."
The dinner is the usual thing, although it seems more subdued to me. Maybe it's because we're leaving, but more likely it’s because everyone feels a bit nervous having Technico sitting in the parlor. I see all of them glance at the door at least once as we eat, and I can almost feel their tension. Is it because he's a stranger, or on some level are they picking up on what he really is? I have no idea.
"Thank you for dinner," I say as I finish. "Can I be excused?"
"Yes, of course," Marge says before standing. She comes around the table as I stand and pulls me into a hug. "You are a wonderful girl, Zoe," she says. There are tears in her eyes, much to my shock. "I'll miss you. I'll miss you, too, Sunny," she says as he stands. Soon we're both tugged into a group hug. "Be safe in your new life," she whispers before kissing us both on the cheek. It’s the first time she's done this and I'm a bit shocked by it.
"It'll be fine," Sunny says, looking as awkward as I feel. "He's our dad, right?"
"You look exactly like him," she agrees. "I always thought you were going to grow up to be a heartbreaker," she adds teasingly.
"Not really," Sunny says, flushing slightly. "Thanks, Marge. We might stop by once in a while, okay?"
"You better!" She looks to me again. "You--oh, Zoe, you're going to do big things. You both are. Your mother would be proud."
"I... I hope so," I say quietly as I pull away from her hold. I give her a little smile. "Bye," I say as I head out the dining area door and into the parlor. "I'm ready," I say.
"Me, too," Sunny says as we grab our things.
"Then let's go," Technico says, getting to his feet and heading out the door. We follow, stepping out into the dusk. I turn, looking up at the house we've lived in for two years. Then, without a word, I turn and look at the car on the street in front of us.
"Whoa," Sunny says. "I thought you didn't have a dollar."
"I don't. I hit the junkyard before I came. Double M's too stingy to give me a car as well as an apartment."
"What do you need a car for, anyway?" I ask.
"I can't exactly come to pick up my kids with no visible way of taking them," Technico says. "Besides, can you two fly yet?"
"No. But we can run," Sunny says with pride.
"Good. Flying will come soon enough."
"It's kind of beat up," I complain as I get closer. "And it smells like rust."
"You complain, you make the next one," Technico says, opening the passenger side door. "Who gets shotgun?"
"I do!" Sunny says, since I'm too stunned at the idea of bei
ng forced to make the "family car."
"So you know?" I ask.
"That you're a budding technopath? Yeah, I know," he says, leaning Sunny's chair down so I can climb into the back.
"There's a hole back here," I say as I scrunch up in the back seat. I can't help but stick my finger in the hole in the leather seat. "You could have replaced the seat, at least!"
"Over a hole."
"Yeah, over a hole. How do you know there's not bugs in it?"
"If there are, squish them."
"I'm not going to squish them! Then the seat will be holey and covered in bug guts!" Sunny is snickering, so I wait until he gets in to hit the back of his chair. "It's not funny, you jerk. You aren't sitting on a massive bug farm!"
"You're right," he agrees. "Your fault for not calling shotgun."
"What kind of super are you going to be if you're worried over a little hole?" Technico asks, starting the car. He doesn't say anything about seatbelts, but he kicks it up to sixty in ten seconds flat. I put my seatbelt on and tell Sunny to do the same. For some reason that makes Technico laugh.
"If we get pulled over by the cops for driving sixty in a thirty miles an hour zone, you're going to be glad we have them on," I say, wondering why I feel like the parent all of a sudden. "You're on parole, you shouldn't be risking it like this!"
"Parole from the Cape Cells, not the norms system," Technico says. "I have no records at all in that system. And I really don't see anyone other than maybe America's Son pulling me over for speeding."
"America's Son?" Sunny asks.
"The picture perfect super hero," Technico drawls. "The one that looks close to tears when he says 'truth, justice and the American way.'"
"I've always liked America's Son," I say. "He's not arrogant acting like Mega."
"True," Technico agrees. "Mega's a bit of a showboat. But I've always had more trouble with the guys like America's Son than I have with the ones like Mega. They're actually out to get rid of the villains entirely."
"Max says--" I start out, only to stop as I realize what I'm about to say. I see Technico glance at me in the rearview mirror.
"Max?" he asks.
"He's our friend," Sunny says, covering for me... I guess.
"What's Max say, then?" Technico asks. Somehow I feel worried by that question. I hesitate too long, and I know it. "Who, exactly, is Max?" he asks again.
"Ah... he's a friend," I say. "From school."
"He likes Zoe," Sunny adds.
"Oh, so your boyfriend?"
"He's not my boyfriend! He's just a friend!" I protest. Who would have thought I'd be trying to protect Maximum just days after meeting him? Not me, that's for sure.
"So future boyfriend, huh?" Technico says.
"Can we change the subject now?" I demand. My face is bright red.
"You know... it's probably not too smart to date a norm," Technico says.
"Why not? You dated Mom," Sunny replies.
For a moment Technico seems stunned as he glances at Sunny. "Your mom wasn't a norm, guys. She was an elemental hero--one of the rarest types around. That's why you've got her powers, Sun."
And any hope of her not having lied to us our entire lives is gone. Thank you, Technico. Thank you sooo much.
***
We pull to a stop at a large apartment building a little while later. It looks empty, with absolutely no cars in the parking lot. It also looks rather run down. Probably because it's so close to the taped off area called the "Death Canyon." I've heard about that area, but I've never actually seen it. It's not really a place you take your kids to visit--rumor had it it was the site of a nuclear bomb.
"We're here," Technico says, getting out of the car. He doesn't even wait for us to climb out before starting for the building. I'm left fighting with his chair to try and get it to lean down so I can climb out.
"Why didn't you make a four door?" I demand as I finally get free. "You knew when picking us up that there were two of us!"
"It had the best body and least amount of work to do," he says. "Besides, I like how it looks."
"Self centered," I mutter, dragging out my bags and swinging the door closed. Sunny's already out. Then again, he didn't have to fight to get there like I did. I literally have to run a step to catch up with them.
"Does she complain this much all the time?" Technico asks my brother.
"Not really," Sunny says. "She just doesn't like you. Besides, she's got a point. If you have kids you've got to have a minivan or something."
"Nah, not with two teenagers," Technico says. "But fine, tomorrow we'll go over to the junkyard and pick out a different one. I can sell this one for cash."
"Maybe you should paint it first, though," Sunny says. "It'd bring in better money."
"And replace the back seat," I add.
"I've changed my mind, we're keeping it," Technico says. I glare at him, because I almost swear he's doing it just to spite me. "It's a classic! If you're so against it, I'll take you out to the junkyard and you can make the next one," he repeats, looking me straight in the eye.
"I don't know how to do that! All I can do is blow up televisions!"
"That's the time you need to go to the junkyard the most," he says. "Tomorrow, bright and early--"
"We have school," Sunny says.
"Skip school," Technico says. "Nothing you learn there is as important as this is, anyway."
"You're a lousy parent," I say.
"Sure I am," Technico says. "But which is more important, who started a war a hundred years ago or you blowing up a school this one?"
"I'm not going to blow up a school!"
"Try going into the computer room sometime. Oh, sure, you'll be fine--even if you're the most vulnerable you're going to be for the rest of your life, but your norm boyfriend and other classmates won't. Honestly, your transfer papers are probably written up and signed already--"
"Transfer papers?" Sunny asks.
"Yeah. You're going to a new school as soon as it’s completed." Technico is saying this far too casually as he leads us to a rickety looking elevator. He pushes the button, but nothing happens, so--unlike any logical person I know--he pries the doors open with brute force and looks up. "Huh," he says.
"What are you doing?" I demand. "You could have waited for it to come down!"
He looks down. "Up, you mean. For it to come up. Man that sucker's slow. Well, get in."
"What?" Sunny says.
"Get in. You can climb, can't you?"
"I'm taking the stairs," I say, walking away.
"This is part of your training," Technico tells me, grabbing me by the back of my shirt. "In you go," he declares, tossing me into the empty space that the elevator is supposed to go through.
"This isn't training, this is child abuse!" I declare, grabbing onto the wires that lift the elevator. "We should report you!"
"The elevator's coming! You better start climbing!" he replies.
"What about you? Why aren't you in here, too?" Sunny demands as he’s tossed in a bit higher than me.
"I'm already trained. Top floor, kids, and you're wasting daylight!" Then--to my shock, although I should really stop being shocked by anything--he closes the doors again. I look down, seeing the elevator coming.
"Climb!" I yell at my brother. He starts to climb and I follow. My heart is in my throat because I can just picture myself being smashed to bits by the elevator, dead before I can even drive, much less use my powers. Hand over hand we haul ourselves up as fast as we can, stopping at the top and looking at the elevator doors. "Can you open them?" I ask Sunny.
"I don't know," he says. "Probably not with just one arm."
"I'll get the right door, you get the left," I say--just as the doors are shoved open for us.
"Not bad," Technico says. "A bit slow, though. Well don't just hang there, get in already!" I stare at him. "What, does Daddy need to give you a hand?" he asks, holding out his hands in a mocking fashion.
"I hate you," I dec
lare before jumping. I land in his arms, much to my irritation, and he puts me down to the side before offering help to Sunny, as well.
"Look down," he says when we're both on solid ground again. I can't help but lean down and see where the elevator is--the second floor. "You were perfectly fine," he says, patting my head. "We're going to set up some obstacle courses on the roof. We'll get you two in better shape in no time."
"You're just assuming that we're going to become super heroes," I snap. "What makes you think we even want to?"
"Heroes? Nah, I'm not going to force you to be that. But kid, you already are a super," he says. "Regardless of how much you might want to be a norm, you never will be. Even if you spend your entire life trying to be like them, you never will be. And when a situation comes up--an accident, or an attack, or even just a stupid kid running out in the street, will you really be able to just stand there and let it happen, knowing what you are?"
I look away. He's got a point, even if I am still mad at him. "Even a norm would do something if they can," I say.
"But we aren't norms," Sunny says.
"Exactly," Technico says. "So I might suck as a parent, I won't argue with that, but I know how to train people. I trained my sister."
"Who's your sister?" Sunny asks.
"I think they call her Firefly nowadays," Technico says.
"Firefly?" I repeat, shocked. "You mean the one that manipulates electricity?"
"Yeah, that's her."
"She's amazing!" I say, fangirling helplessly. "Sunny, our aunt is Firefly!"
"You mean I could have gotten electrical powers? That's so not fair," Sunny complains.
"If you're a technopath, why can you fly?" I ask, ignoring Sunny's complaints. "You can, right? That's what it said in the book."
"Genetics," Technico says. "We've got all the basic super powers thanks to my old man, flight, speed, strength--I'm assuming you'll gain them, although it's possible that Sunny won't. Your mother couldn't fly. And what book?"
"We had a Super Awareness week a few weeks ago," Sunny says. "That's how we found out about you."
We've entered our apartment. I'm only now looking around. It's really modern looking, with black metal and glass tables and a white couch. The kitchen looks the same, with flashes of red here and there. I'm actually surprised to see that it looks like somewhere you can actually live.