The Supervillain High Boxed Set: Books One - Three of the Supervillain High Series

by Gerhard Gehrke

  “I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not. You’ve got to take a few nights off. Let us handle watching the building. Let security handle the patrols.”

  “They’re not taking this seriously,” he said a little too loudly. A few heads turned their direction. “When I called last night, they sent one guard. One! If the headmaster had returned, we couldn’t have done anything to stop him.”

  “Well, he didn’t return. It was two kids who had broken in. And this is your third false alarm this week. They’re getting used to ignoring you.”

  He shot her an accusing look. “And what about you? Are you getting used to ignoring me too? I seem to be the only one there every night.”

  She flushed. Chewed the cuticle of her thumb.

  “Hey, buddy,” Vlad said, “Maybe we all just need a night off. You do too. In fact, why don’t we get off campus today and go do something?”

  Tina withdrew her hand from his. He could see her fighting back tears.

  “We were all there until a half hour after midnight last night,” Tina said in a low voice. “Vlad and I went to bed. Soren stayed up and was on the roof manning the scope. We’re all trying to keep an eye on this place, so stop making it all about you.”

  She pushed away from the table and stormed out of the coffee shop. A few people at nearby tables started clapping. Brendan got up to leave.

  “We’ve all been working hard on this,” Vlad said. “But what we’re doing is not sustainable.”

  “Then quit if you want to.”

  As he left, it took all his willpower not to elbow through a newly arriving group of students who blocked the door.

  ***

  The easiest advice any of Brendan’s court-appointed therapists had ever given him was to get away from triggers, or people in general, when he was feeling angry. This way he would avoid lashing out. As he walked the green belt that circled the campus, the only other people around were locals who were out for a stroll or running. Although he wasn’t the only Latino in town, only white people seemed to be up that particular morning breaking a sweat. A few said good morning. A few gave him a wide berth. He wasn’t large by any stretch, so maybe it was the fact that he was male and alone, and some of the joggers and walkers were women. Whatever the reason, the walk was making him feel more irritable. He returned to campus.

  He had actual homework he could do, as well as his continued research into just how a gate between two versions of Earth was even possible. He still had Charlotte’s first glove, which he kept powered down in his backpack at all times. The glove, now partially disassembled and more of a bracelet, duplicated the headmaster’s ring in that it could open the Not-Earth gate…if the machine hadn’t been disconnected from the Not-Earth side of things. Right now it was just a hunk of metal.

  Charlotte’s second glove was more interesting, but he hadn’t been able to get his hands on it. It could open a doorway to yet another Earth downstream from his. She claimed it could even be used to send someone there, including the wearer, without creating an open gate. It was how Charlotte had managed to evade capture by her father for so long.

  Knowing such devices and machines existed should have thrilled him. But all he felt was a burden. The headmaster had used the machine, heedless of any consequences to Brendan’s world. In Brendan’s mind, even Charlotte had risked too much in building her gloves.

  Maybe everyone from Not-Earth is crazy.

  Now he felt like he was just holding his breath until the headmaster returned to show his face again. But the headmaster hadn’t been the only invader. There had been two security guards from the other side, as well as Not-Earth’s double of his father, Myron Reece, the supervillain known as Drone King. They had kidnapped two students from Dutchman Springs Academy who hadn’t been recovered.

  Brendan had kept the first glove and the ring. The ring was safe with his dad. How these objects could be used wasn’t clear to him, but just having them out of the headmaster’s and Charlotte’s hands felt right. His friends and the security guards who were supposed to be helping were unreliable, but he and his surveillance drones would be ready. He tightened his grip on his pack as he walked.

  He saw Poser sitting alone on a sunny bench next to a modern sculpture that made Brendan think of a melted candle, as if a school plopped in the middle of a desert needed a reminder it was hot. The old Poser had a few painted nails, hair done up into a tall pillar, and strange clothes. The new Poser wore a white T-shirt and jeans, his hair tied back into a ponytail. He had headphones in and he offered Brendan a sleepy nod as he approached.

  “Hey, Brian, how are you feeling this morning?”

  Poser shrugged. “Got some sleep. Not a lot, but some.” He pulled the earphones off. “I’ve been listening to all of the music on the other me’s phone. It’s all different. Not by much, but by a little. A note here, a changed lyric. None of it’s the same.”

  “Are the bands the same?”

  “Mostly. There’s stuff on here I’ve never heard of. I know it’s a small deal, but it’s things like this that make me want to start freaking out again. Why couldn’t he have just left me alone?”

  Brendan sat down next to Poser. “Maybe he was thinking you’d want what he was offering.” He thought for a moment. “I think some people just really want to be strong and powerful. Look at the supers here. Maybe Myron Reece and your headmaster thought everyone is like that, and if they tasted that power they’d follow orders. Are you seeing your parents this weekend?”

  “Yeah. Catching the hyperloop in an hour. My dad asked if I was on drugs wanting to spend time with him. The other me is going to hate his new mom and dad. They’ll actually call and be interested, unlike these people.”

  Brendan could only nod. Poser stared at some passing students and grew sullen.

  “It’s not fair for him or them,” Poser said. “Or any of us.”

  “You were a victim of a crime. I’m doing what I can to keep it from happening again.”

  Poser pointed to Brendan’s pack. “You still have it.”

  It wasn’t a question, but Brendan said, “Yeah. The ring and the glove are both safe. The glove stays with me. I can’t chance leaving it anywhere, even locked in the electronics lab. I don’t know if Charlotte, or some security guard, or even the real headmaster will try to take it.”

  “And what if things don’t work out here for me?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know. Charlotte could use her glove on me. Send me down the line to see if things are better on the next Earth. Or maybe the one beyond, until I find the right one. Maybe it’s all a loop and I’ll eventually make it home.”

  “It doesn’t work like that, Brian. Charlotte can go one world downstream, and that’s it. I think it took her a while to figure that out. We don’t know anything about the next Earth down, either. Maybe you’re there and maybe no one you know is alive. I don’t exist on your Earth. Maybe your parents never met on the next one down. It can always be worse. And we still have no idea if even just being on the wrong Earth is damaging anything. Charlotte already takes too many risks. So don’t ask that. Never again. When we figure out how to return to your Earth, you’ll know.”

  Poser went back to watching the students pass them by. Then he chuckled. “I guess I better try to find some new music.”

  “Couldn’t hurt. The stuff the old you listened to was atrocious.”

  ***

  “What’s wrong, Brendan?” Nurse Dreyfus asked.

  He stood awkwardly in the door to her office, unsure of where to begin. Her usual disarming demeanor did nothing to settle his nerves. She was somehow part of what was going on, but he had a hard time understanding how she fit in. Charlotte trusted her, had perhaps even lived with her for the past two years. The real headmaster seemed to fear her.

  “I, uh, just saw Brian. He looks like he’s still having trouble adjusting.”

  “Why don’t you step in and we can talk about it. I saw Brian yesterd
ay. He’s stronger than you think and this will all just take some time.”

  She was doing it again, giving him the impression that he was her complete focus, that she would make everything okay. Even just being in her presence made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. But there was something wrong about that. Everything wasn’t all right.

  “Did you give him more of the special water?” The water she had provided had given him and Tina a strength boost while on Not-Earth.

  “That was only a temporary fix to make him feel better. He will need to acclimate without it.”

  “I think I understand. Like Charlotte has adjusted to living here. But what if it doesn’t work for him? It’s not just the air and the food, but he’s having a hard time being separated from his parents, and with small things. Even the music he likes is different.”

  “It will be a challenge for him. But until he can go home, he must do his best to adapt. I will continue to monitor him and help as much as I can. How are you coping? Are you getting enough rest? You look tired.”

  “I sleep like a baby.”

  Some kids were shouting in the hallway. Brendan waited until they passed along and weren’t in listening distance.

  “I need to ask where you get the water you gave us.”

  “Why? Do you need some?”

  “No, that’s not it. I’m just trying to process everything that’s happened and it has never quite made sense.”

  “Brendan, you know nothing about me and I know it’s not fair, because in my position I know everything about you. I am on your side. But as you are discovering, some knowledge is a burden. Even learning about Charlotte’s world is more than some can process. But you’re exceptionally bright. You’ve been there now. You demonstrated incredible bravery in standing up to the other Sperry Appleton. However, the fight is over for now.”

  Her mobile phone pinged. She offered a warm smile. “I have other appointments of a more mundane nature, but we can talk later. Would you like that?”

  He nodded even as he realized she had dodged his question.

  3. Saturday Schedule

  He figured the electronics lab would be vacant on a Saturday morning, but a couple of older students, juniors maybe, were tooling away at a corner workbench. Their project was a large computer, replete with exotic features like colorful liquid cooling and more fancy lights than most airport landing strips. They barely acknowledged him as he set up to start tinkering. He put earphones in and cued up part seven of a free Yale lecture on astrophysics. Nothing he had listened to so far explained how the headmaster and Charlotte could rip a hole between points in the multiverse. The lecturer had a soothing voice with a heavy upper-crust New York accent, which helped Brendan believe the woman knew what she was talking about.

  He removed the glove from his backpack and stared at it for a while. He opened his notebook. Several diagrams he had made displayed every circuit, resistor, and capacitor he could see. He hadn’t dared take it apart yet. He couldn’t chance damaging anything.

  One of the students moved past him on the way to a sink. Brendan tucked the glove away and opened his project drawer. A partially completed third drone lay amidst a jumble of metal and plastic components, all things he had scavenged or purchased with his meager funds. He needed a plan, or his drone would be little more than another toy. He stifled a yawn and began emptying the drawer. The pieces, once laid out, did nothing to suggest their potential. He wasn’t smart enough. His father could take these parts and turn them into anything he wanted them to be, but all of Brendan’s designs had been based on ones found online. His drones flew, obeyed commands, but had none of the Drone King’s magic.

  “Cool,” one of the students said. The boy was drying his hands with a paper towel and looking at Brendan’s collection of half-finished projects. “That’s quite the motor you have on that thing. What’s its lift potential?”

  “It doesn’t work,” Brendan said, pausing the lecture on his phone. He stared at the other student until the boy walked away. The two students huddled back over their project. They looked in Brendan’s direction a couple of times and laughed.

  Ms. Hayes, the electronics science teacher, came out of her back office. He hadn’t noticed her before. When she saw him, she headed straight in his direction. “Good to see you this morning, Brendan.”

  “Hey.”

  She was easily his favorite teacher, always inventive in keeping things interesting, and liberal with free lab use. She was popular with many of the other male students, too, because she was one of the youngest instructors at Dutchman Springs Academy, and the general opinion was that she was hot.

  “I’m glad I caught you. I missed your assignment on the history of alternating current. It was due yesterday and I sent you a message to turn it in by nine p.m. I was hoping you still might get it done this morning, but I didn’t receive it.”

  “I’m working on it.”

  She looked at the drone on the desk. “You don’t appear to be. I’m afraid it means a no credit on the assignment. Brendan, you’ve also been more asleep than awake in class. I understand being tired. You have a demanding schedule. But if this is a trend, your counselor Mr. Childes will have to talk to you so you can do whatever is necessary to make adjustments. I’ve never been one to get in the way of activities outside of schoolwork. It’s generally none of my business. Having the creative freedom to explore projects within this lab is part of learning. But the academic side of your life can’t be neglected.”

  “I said I’d finish the assignment,” he said a little too loud, smacking the workbench with the screwdriver. “If you have to fail me on it, fine. And I’ll try not to fall asleep. Is there anything else?”

  She had recoiled from him, clearly surprised by his outburst. He instantly felt a rush of guilt. The other students were staring at him too.

  “Brendan, are you okay? Is there something you’d like to talk about?”

  He just shook his head. He didn’t trust himself enough to speak coherently.

  “Enjoy your project. Get some rest this weekend. Maybe we can chat on Monday and come up with a makeup assignment.”

  He nodded and she left. He looked at the screwdriver in his hands and set it down. Closed his eyes and caught his breath. He wanted to pick up the drone and smash it to pieces. What was the point of any of it?

  His phone buzzed. “Where you at?” Tina texted.

  He considered not answering, but then replied, “Lab.”

  She showed up five minutes later and plopped down at his workbench. He was absentmindedly disassembling one of his rotors, with no clear idea of what to do with any of it.

  “Sorry I got upset,” she said.

  He nodded. Just speaking was going to be hard for him. He needed more time alone before he could be civil and attempt his own apology. “Don’t worry about it. We good?”

  “I guess. Is this what you’re going to do today?”

  “I’m going to get this done. I’ve also got research to listen to, and I’m going to try to see the headmaster later. It’s been a week.”

  “I could go with you.”

  “If you want. I think Charlotte should be there.”

  “Have you spoken with her?”

  “I tell her when we’re setting up for the night. She replies but doesn’t show. I’m going to send her a message this afternoon before I go to the headmaster’s office. Hopefully, she’ll come.”

  Tina screwed her mouth to one side. “Hmm.”

  “What else do you want me to do?”

  “I’ll lay this out carefully so I don’t upset you. One: we don’t have the manpower to monitor the building full time. What if the headmaster returns at ten in the morning during class? Thinking that he’s going to pop in when we’re conveniently waiting for him is silly. Two: the only other person who has opened a gate between two Earths is running around doing lord knows what, and you don’t consider it a priority to find out what she’s doing.”

  “She’s on our side.”r />
  “So far. But ask yourself why you wouldn’t give her the glove or the ring back. It’s because you didn’t one hundred percent trust her then. Because she built a second one without you knowing with even more bells and whistles. Who knows what else she might be building.”

  He raised a hand for her to stop talking. “Fine. I’ll call her.”

  “It doesn’t have to be all you. We need to see the headmaster, make sure he’s still working with us. If you think security is dropping the ball, he needs to know. See if Charlotte will show up for the meet. But let’s confirm for ourselves that she’s not getting into mischief.”

  “I’ll text her after I make the appointment with the headmaster.”

  “Good.” She stood up. “Once you do, let’s take a walk down to the farmer’s market so we get a change of scenery. The headmaster’s Saturday hours don’t start until noon.”

  “I know. But I want to get this third drone finished by tonight.”

  Her face iced over. “Suit yourself.” She turned and walked out of the lab.

  The two other students resumed their laughter. Brendan put his earphones back in and turned the volume up, but quickly remembered he had no idea what he was doing. He put away the drone and took out the remnants of Charlotte’s glove.

  Time to see what makes you tick.

  ***

  Brendan sent a message to the headmaster’s virtual assistant and received a confirmation of the request. A second message appeared in seconds on his tablet. “The time slot you requested is full. Is there a better time we can schedule an appointment?”

  He messaged Tina. “Headmaster has no open appointments. Going anyway now.”

  Then he copied the message and sent it to Charlotte. The headmaster’s stepdaughter from Not-Earth didn’t reply. He had seen so little of her lately. She had her own obsessions. But she was also used to keeping secrets. What was she working on? Her ability to make the second glove so quickly had been startling. What else was she capable of?