There’s no time to worry about that now. For now Allison has to contend with more of the giant robots. She doubts they’ll be susceptible to her tactics in New Zealand; they seemed pretty capable of adapting to deal with enemies.
She decides to try something they haven’t seen before. It can work a lot easier here in Focal City than a New Zealand fishing village. She races up the steps of a skyscraper, until she figures she’s level with the top of the robots. Then she accelerates the molecules of a window until it shatters.
She jumps out the window to land on the left shoulder of a robot. She’s pretty sure they don’t have the dexterity to remove her from here. It’ll need another robot for that. By then she hopes to have the thing crippled.
Trying to accelerate the molecules of the leg armor hadn’t worked, but that armor had been pretty thick. What she has in mind now should work a lot better. She dashes across the broad shoulder of the robot, to the junction of its neck and shoulders. There, as she figured, is a bunch of power conduits that aren’t protected by armor.
The problem now will be to destroy them without electrocuting herself. She sets to work on the outer shell of the conduits. Once she gets through that, she gets nearer to the current itself. When she designed the original costume, she used a frictionless material that should be resistant to electricity, but she never tested it at these levels. Here goes nothing, she thinks as she sinks one gloved hand through a conduit.
There is a slight tingle through her body, but not nearly enough to electrocute her. That’s not her worst problem anymore as the robot begins pirouetting wildly. It slams into a building, its spinning body chopping into the skyscraper like a lawnmower.
Allison holds on as long as she can, but as debris starts to fall around her, she lets herself go. She sails through the air, flailing around like the out of control robot. The fall is probably going to kill her, or at least cripple her. She thinks of Sally and Jenny—
A hand seizes her by the back of her costume. She looks up to see Alan there in his Velocity Man costume. He grunts as he pulls her up to the roof of another building. “What the hell are you doing?” he shouts at her.
“Trying to stop those things.”
“Well you did a damned good job.”
“It’s more than you’re doing.”
“I don’t need to do anything. The cavalry is here.”
He points to the sky, where she sees Apex Man streaking down from the clouds. He punches through the center of the robot. When that doesn’t work, he continues to punch it until its pieces finally rain to the ground, where they lie still.
Below, she sees a flash of gold light. She’s surprised to see Lord Neptune not Elise with the royal trident of Pacifica. He stabs at one of the robots until it finally topples. Apex Man is there to grab it before it slams onto the ground.
A black jet swoops into the action. Allison sees only one figure inside. It must be the male Midnight Spectre given what happened to Robin’s plane in New Zealand. Where is she? Allison can’t imagine Midnight Spectre would sit this out.
Allison’s communicator buzzes. “Allison, where are you?” Elise asks.
“Where are you?”
“Down by the harbor.”
“I’ll come meet you.”
Alan nods to her. “Good. You girls can look for any casualties. Help the police clean up.”
“Excuse me?”
“The real Super Squad has this under control.”
“I don’t see you doing anything.”
“I’ve got to make a run to Washington,” he says.
“What for?”
He gestures over his shoulder, where Carrie Dalton lies gagged and tied up. “I got her while you were destroying half the city.”
Allison gapes at him for a moment. No words will come out of her mouth. Finally she says, “I’ll go see to the civilians.”
***
Elise drags a little boy from a minivan. The kid doesn’t seem much the worse for wear, just a bit shaken up. The second Elise pulls him out of the wreck, he wriggles free to run over to his mother. She thinks of Ariel and wonders why the hell she bothered to come here.
All she and Allison have done for the last three hours is help the authorities clean up after Dalton’s attack. Meanwhile the men are off somewhere posing for cameras and doing interviews about how they saved the day. “This is such a bunch of crap,” she mutters. “They get all the glory and we get stuck cleaning up.”
“This is important too,” Allison says, but Elise doubts she believes it.
“Yeah, sure.”
“What happened with the trident? Did you give it to him?”
“Sort of.” She tells Allison what happened at the ceremony back in Pacifica. “He basically shamed me in front of the whole damned country.”
“That’s terrible. You think he’s going to do something to you or Ariel?”
“That’s one reason I came up here. I need to find a new place for us to live. Somewhere far away. Maybe you could help me with that.”
“Sure. Sounds like fun.”
“More fun than this?”
“Yeah, right.” They share a laugh before they get back to work.
They should have known it would only be a matter of time before the media jackals found them. Someone from Fox News shoves a microphone in Allison’s face. “What do you have to say to reports you caused one of the robots to go berserk and do even more damage?”
“I was trying to help,” Allison mumbles.
“Help? Is leveling a city block your idea of helping?”
Elise shoves the reporter back. “What the hell kind of question is that? What were you doing to help the situation? You were probably wetting your pants in a basement.”
“Are you the one they call Mermaid?”
“What about it?”
“What was your role in stopping this attack?”
Elise’s face warms at the question. “It was pretty much over when I got here.”
“Yet witnesses spotted Lord Neptune taking down one of the robots.”
Elise’s fist clenches. Before she can deck the reporter, Allison grabs her by the arm. “Look, we still have a lot of work to do. The robots might be gone, but the people of Focal City need our help.”
She practically drags Elise from the throng of reporters. Elise can only imagine how terrible this will all look on television later. They’ll edit it down to the worst parts and completely ignore the fact she and Allison were helping the victims of the attack.
“This is bullshit,” she grumbles. “This whole thing smells like bullshit.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean this whole attack was a goddamned setup. Don’t you get it: they’re trying to replace us.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. Whoever created those damned copies of us. They’re probably the same one who created those robots. They sent in the robots to make us look bad and the men look good.”
“You’re sounding like Robin.”
“Yeah, and where is Robin? You think she would sit at home washing her tights?”
“I don’t know. We’ll have to ask her—”
“It wouldn’t surprise me if they already killed her. Or they might have put her into a coma or something.”
“Let’s not jump to conclusions here.”
“Come on, Allison, don’t be so damned naïve. You really think all of this is a coincidence? Dalton ‘dies’ in that attack, then Starla disappears, then those men show up, and now this; do you really think it’s a bunch of random stuff?”
“I don’t know. But we’ll need more proof before we can say any of this to Hall.”
“I wouldn’t go to him with it anyway. He’s probably in on it. Him and Colonel Storm.”
“Now you’re getting a little paranoid.”
“Let’s go find Robin. Then we can start figuring this shit out. The sooner, the better.”
“Elise—”
“I’ll see you i
n Redoubt City.”
Elise stomps away, towards the harbor. It’s going to be a long swim over to Redoubt City, but she doesn’t see any choice short of buying a plane ticket. Not that she could get on a plane dressed like this. By then Allison and Robin should already be hard at work unraveling all this. The sooner they get answers, the sooner Elise can get back to her family.
Chapter 15
The top story in the Star is an editorial, another no doubt written by Kate King. The editorial is titled, “There’s Only Room for One Super Squad.” As Starla reads it, she feels a chill run through her body. Kate praises the efficiency of the male Super Squad—especially Apex Man—while decrying the incompetence of the female team. “Velocity Gal’s actions did far more harm than good to the city she claims to protect.”
Starla shakes her head. She knows Allison was only trying to help. It’s easy for civilians to play armchair quarterback with superheroes since they’ve never been in those life-and-death situations. They’ve never been thrust into anything so bizarre as having to disable a twenty-foot-tall robot. If they were, then they might understand how difficult it is.
“Something wrong, dear?” Greta asks.
“Oh, reading about that Focal City attack.”
“It’s so awful. It’s a good thing those nice men were there to put a stop to it.”
“I guess so.” Starla discards the news section in favor of Lifestyles. As promised, there’s a picture of her on the third page beneath the headline, “Local Orphan Becomes Beacon of Hope.” Stan Smith’s writing is the same as she remembers, far more staid than Kate’s. That’s why he gets the middle of Lifestyles while she gets the front page.
She folds the newspaper to show it to Greta. “Look at this. Isn’t it nice?”
Greta has to put on a pair of bifocals from a chain around her neck to read the article. “It’s very nice,” she says. She takes the bifocals off to favor Starla with an indulgent look. “I suppose now that the whole world knows about you, we need to take you downtown to get your papers.”
“My papers?”
“You need an identification card. A Social Security Number. All that good stuff. Can’t have you working under the table anymore.”
“Oh.” What’s she supposed to tell the government? That she’s really Starla Marsh, only after a lot of plastic surgery? “Do you suppose they’ll have the actual records there?”
“That depends: where were you born?”
“Rockford. Way out in the country.”
“Really? I remember stopping in Rockford once, a long time ago. My sister and I bought some corn to take back home.”
Starla wonders if they bought it from her adopted parents or perhaps one of their neighbors. “Maybe I should go there, to the hall of records or something.”
“I hope you’re not planning on running away again.”
“Um—” That is what Starla was thinking. The hitch in that plan is she would have to leave behind Greta—and Billy. “I wasn’t thinking that.”
“Perhaps you could get that nice young man to take you.”
“Billy? I don’t think he has a car.”
“Well you shouldn’t go there by yourself. A sweet young girl like yourself can get into all kinds of trouble alone.”
A girl can get into trouble even if she isn’t alone; Starla knows this from recent experience. “I’ll ask him. I’m sure there’s a bus going to Rockford. Or maybe you could go?”
“No, I really can’t leave the shelter for that long. And I’m a bit too long in the tooth to ride a bus out to the country.”
“You’re not that old.”
“That’s sweet of you to say, but to a girl like you I’m older than dirt.”
“Who’ll look after the store while I’m gone?”
“I’m sure we can manage. Just don’t be gone too long.”
“I won’t.”
Starla gets out of her chair to give Greta a hug. Then she goes into the living room to pick up the old rotary phone. It takes her fingers a couple of tries before she gets the hang of dialing the numbers.
Billy picks up on the second ring. “Star? Did you see the article today?”
“I did. It’s great. Greta liked it too.”
“I made sure to save you a couple of copies.”
“Thanks.” Starla takes a deep breath. Then she says, “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
“Oh? What is it?” his voice is guarded; he probably thinks she’s going to break up with him over the phone.
“Greta was saying that I need to get myself some identification. I told her that I was born in Rockford. You know where that is?”
“Sure. Mr. Shaw is from there.”
“Greta thought maybe you could accompany me out there so I could visit the hall of records. If you wouldn’t mind?”
“That sounds like fun. I don’t have a car, though.”
“I thought we could take a bus.”
“I’ve got a little money saved up. I could rent us a car. It’d be a lot safer.”
“I couldn’t ask you to do that. It’s too much.”
“It’s no problem. Mr. Shaw’s said how pretty it is out there. I’m sure I can get some great pictures.”
“Then write it off as a business expense, right?”
He laughs into the phone. “Right. So when are we going?”
“There’s no hurry. Whenever is good for you.”
“How about tomorrow? I don’t have anything going on with the paper.”
“That should work,” Starla says though she’d rather she had more time to plan her strategy. “I’ll see you then.”
“See you.” He hangs up the phone. She holds the receiver in her hand for a minute, wondering what she’s going to do now.
***
Allison knows something terrible has happened when she opens the door to Robin’s bedroom to find the girl facedown on the bed, clutching a pillow. It’s hard to believe the muffled sounds she hears are sobs. Allison sits down on the edge of the bed and then puts a hand on the back of Robin’s pink tracksuit.
“Go away, Jasper,” Robin says through the pillow.
“It’s not Jasper.”
“What do you want?”
“Robin, what happened? Are you hurt?”
She sniffles and then finally looks up. Her face is free of any cuts or bruises but her eyes are red and her nose is running. “Only my pride.”
“What did he do?”
“I heard the alarm and I went down to get dressed. He wouldn’t let me on his plane. I tried to get up the ladder, but he tripped me with a bolo. My own goddamned bolo! He left me there like a steer at a rodeo.”
“It’s all right now. You’re safe.”
She clutches the pillow to her chest like Jenny does with her stuffed toys when she gets upset. “He called me a kid sidekick. I guess he’s right. That never would have happened before, when I was still the man. Now look at me! I am a stupid little girl. A goddamned sidekick.”
“That’s not true. You’ve always been a big help to us. The Feminazi would have killed us if not for you.”
“But Mel was the one who saved us from Roboto. And what have I done since then? I’m a goddamned joke.”
“No you’re not. Look, Robin, I came here because I need your help. So does Elise.” She tells Robin about Elise’s theories concerning everything that’s happened. As Allison talks, she notices how Robin begins to perk up. Her eyes get that gleam in them they do when she begins trying to unravel a mystery. “You see, it’s all connected. Someone out there is pulling the strings and we need to find out who. You’re the best detective we’ve got. Hell, you’re probably the best in the world. You’re the one who can figure this out.”
“I’ll try,” she says with a sniffle. She finally sets the pillow aside. “You really think there’s some grand conspiracy out there screwing with us?”
“I don’t know. You’re the paranoid one. What do you think?”
“It�
��s possible. The timing of Starla’s disappearance and these guys showing up is too close to be a coincidence. And Dalton showing up out of the blue to take back Roboto’s weapon? Someone had to have saved her from that convoy.”
“Or she’s another impostor.”
“Now who’s paranoid?”
“You’re rubbing off on me I guess.”
“I’ll start looking into it. I’d suggest you watch your back. If they think we’re on to them, they might try to get us out of the picture entirely.”
“Right. You be careful too. Stay away from that guy. If he is the same as you, he’s not going to give you a second warning.”
“I know. Mel asked me to go to homecoming. I guess I should have Jasper find my formal dress.”
“That’s the spirit.” She pats Robin on the back. The girl seems to have recovered her wits now that she has a mystery to occupy her. “I’m going to head back. I’ll keep in touch.”
“Sure.”
Jasper is in the hallway, no doubt eavesdropping on them. He smiles at her. “Thank you for that, Dr. Sable. I can’t remember the last time I saw her so inconsolable. Even when she became a girl, there was still that old fighting spirit in her, but after what happened…I was afraid she’d be lost for good.”
Allison nods. In a lower voice she asks, “You’ve known Rob since he was born. Is that other guy the real thing?”
“If he’s not, he’s as close as one can possibly get.”
“That’s what I thought.”
She waits until she’s outside to start running at full speed. After a few seconds—when she’s halfway across the country—something slams into her like a freight train. Allison is thrown backwards through the air. She lands in a wheat field, gouging out a rut long enough to land a 747 on.
All she can do now is lie on the ground and groan with pain. This hasn’t ever happened before. At superspeed her molecules are out of sync with the world around her enough that it’s like she’s a ghost. Nothing should be able to hit her—except someone else going superspeed.
Velocity Man looks down at her. She sees the extra padding all along his right arm to let him use it like a battering ram. “Time to wrap up loose ends,” he growls.
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