She pays the driver and then gets out. She doesn’t go down the wharf, which would be far too public. Instead, she walks along the harbor until she finds a secluded place where no one should see her jump in. Pacificans aren’t a secret, but there are still those people who get freaked out to see a woman jump into the water and not ever come back up again.
With a deep breath, she dives into the dirty water of the harbor. From past experience she knows this isn’t going to be fun. It’ll probably be like her first time going underwater, when she thought for sure she would die.
She tries not to panic as her air begins to run out. It’s a natural impulse to try to take more air in even when there isn’t any. The other impulse is to claw frantically at the water to escape. She resists that too even as her vision begins to dim.
Her body has begun to feel heavy and her vision has turned to narrow tunnels and still no relief is in sight. Her gills should have opened up by now. Where are they?
She can no longer resist the frantic impulses of her body. She flails away at the water, searching for the surface, for relief. Part of her wants nothing more than to escape from the water while the other part thinks of Erek and Ariel.
The decision is made for her when someone hauls her out of the water by the hood of her sweatshirt. She gasps for breath and flops around on the sidewalk for a minute. She hears a man say, “Christ, kid, you trying to kill yourself?”
She understands now what the bastards did with their serum: they made her fully human. She can never go back to Pacifica, to her husband and daughter.
***
Allison can’t breathe. Something heavy presses down on her body, smothering her. She claws at it feverishly with her hands until finally she’s free. Still she can’t get any air into her lungs. She wheezes violently; her hands claw now at her throat, trying futilely to open up her airway.
A light comes on. Allison can’t see more than blobs around her. A large blob is moving towards her. “It’s all right, honey. Here you go.” Something plastic is pressed into her hands. She realizes from the shape it’s an inhaler.
The memory comes back to her. They injected her and Elise with a chemical. She watched helplessly in zero-G as Elise turned into a plain, pasty young girl. As for herself, she remembers getting smaller and smaller, a child again. A child with terrible asthma.
She puts one end of the inhaler to her mouth and then presses down on the top of it to squirt medicine into her airways. She gives it a couple more squirts to be sure. Meanwhile someone rubs her back gently. From the voice she knows it’s not Sally.
Her lungs begin to function normally again. Her breath still wheezes a little, but for the moment she’s out of the woods. She leans back against some pillows. “It’s all right,” the woman says again. “You’re better now.”
Allison squints at the blob on the edge of the bed. “Mom?” she asks, her breathless voice so tiny in her ears.
A hand sweeps pale, almost colorless hair from Allison’s face. “I’m here, honey. You’re going to be fine now.”
Another plastic object is pushed into her hands. She realizes it’s a pair of glasses. They’re a lot thicker than the false ones she wore as Dr. Allison Sable. The rectangular lenses of these are like Coke bottles.
But they do bring things into focus. She sees her mother on the edge of the bed. Mom has dyed her hair a chestnut shade it never was in her younger days. Her face is more lined than Allison remembers from the last time they saw each other almost a decade ago, the day of Allison’s wedding.
She sits up a little to see she’s in her childhood bedroom. There’s still a Periodic Table and star chart on one wall. A model of the Solar System dangles over her desk. She doesn’t know where the One Direction and Justin Bieber posters came from or the My Little Pony comforter on top of her—with matching sheets.
“What happened here? How little am I?” Her breathing starts to become ragged again. She has to squeeze off another burst from the inhaler.
Mom rubs her back again. “A nice man named Major Hall called. He said they’d thought you’d died after T.U.R.B.O. Labs exploded, but then they found out you were in a hospital, in a coma—like this. If only I’d known; I would have been there to visit you every day. Maybe then you wouldn’t have spent a whole year in that awful hospital.”
Allison has little doubt Mom would have stayed by her bedside every day for a year. She imagines Mom forcing the nurses aside so she can give Allison sponge baths and change her bedpan to make sure it is done up to her standards. “Mom, please, how old am I?”
“He said they think you’re about thirteen. I went to the store and I asked them what sort of things a thirteen-year-old girl might like.”
Thirteen? Allison feels her lungs tightening again. She closes her eyes and tries to tell herself it’s not so bad. She could be Jenny’s age right now. She could be in a crib. Thirteen isn’t so bad. Robin’s only about eighteen and she’s fine—
She also lives in a multi-million dollar mansion with only her butler. Here Allison is in a tiny ranch house in suburbia with her smothering mother again. “Oh God,” she whispers as tears begin to well up in her eyes.
“There now, take it easy. It’s not so bad. I always wanted to have a daughter. I guess I got my wish.”
“Mom!” Allison shouts, sounding every bit like a teenager again. “I’m not staying here. I have to go back to the city. I have to see Sally.”
“Now, honey, don’t be silly. You’re in no shape to travel right now. You need to get some rest.”
“I can rest at home. With my wife.”
“Oh, honey, you know that woman isn’t going to want you around like this.”
“Don’t call her that! Sally loves me. She’ll stand by me.” Yet even as she says this, Allison knows her mother is right. Sally could accept her husband spontaneously turning into a woman, but a child? That’s too far out for her. She’s not going to want to tuck Allison in at night or take her to school or go to PTA meetings or soccer games or school dances.
And what would happen with Jenny? She could hardly cope with Aunt Allison; what could they tell her now? She has a horrible vision of her and Jenny squabbling like sisters in the car over who’s touching who until Sally threatens to take them back home. What kind of life would that be for any of them?
Allison sags into her mother’s waiting arms. Her sobs make it almost as hard to breathe as with the asthma. “What do I do now?” she manages to get out.
“I’m sure the government has plenty of nice men working on finding a way to fix this. We have to give them time.”
Allison pulls back slightly from her mother. “Mom, don’t you get it? The government did this to me!”
“Why would they do such a thing?”
“I know this is going to be hard to accept, but I was a girl a year before any of this happened. I was Velocity Gal. The one on the news?”
“Don’t be silly, dear.”
“I’m not lying!” Allison has to stop for another spray from the inhaler. She hopes Mom has a few more of these around. It’s going to take time to get used to this asthma again.
Even as she lies there, almost helpless, Allison knows what she needs to do. She needs to cure her asthma. And with that, maybe she can get her speed back.
For now, though, she lets Mom tuck her back into bed. She needs to rest, to get her strength up. Then she can figure out how to get back into a lab to do what needs done.
Chapter 19
Robin hasn’t seen a football game in years. When she was a man she had sometimes taken clients to watch the Redoubt City Renegades in the company suite. It was never something she enjoyed. She has never particularly liked sports in general. Too many rules and safety features to curb the violence. Even UFC fights are more like a pageant of combat than actual combat, as she knows all too well.
Melanie has taken an interest in the game, though it’s obvious she really has no idea what’s going on. There’s always a slight delayed reactio
n before Melanie cheers, as if she’s checking to make sure she should. Then she cheers a second too long, after everyone else has stopped.
The game and the cheering are all part of Melanie’s plan to demonstrate the fun of college life to Robin. If she enrolled at MIT, they could have this much fun every weekend! Robin would rather gouge out her eyes than sit in a chilly stadium with a bunch of drunken idiots every weekend. At least in the Holloway Corporation suite there were windows and walls to separate her from the morons.
Melanie practically screams as the team in red scores a touchdown. Robin only sits with her arms folded over her chest. Melanie shakes her shoulder and then points to the scoreboard. “We’re winning!”
“Great.”
“Don’t be such a stick in the mud.”
“Since when did you like football?”
Melanie shrugs this off. “I don’t, but it’s so exciting being here.”
“Yeah, sure.” Robin looks around the crowd. It would be easy enough for the other Rob Holloway to infiltrate the crowd. Or he could hire an assassin to pose as one of these cheering dolts. While a crowd can provide safety with lots of witnesses around, it can also provide cover for someone who knows what he’s doing.
“Don’t be so paranoid,” Melanie whispers into her ear.
“I’m not. I don’t care about this stupid game.”
This is of course the wrong thing to say. Melanie sags forward on her seat, her enthusiasm deflating like a balloon. She has tried so hard and in one sentence Robin has destroyed all of it. “I’m sorry—”
Melanie gets up and begins to make her way through the crowd. Robin follows her, but a tubby oaf gets in her way to knock her down. She waits for the oaf to pull out a gun or knife, but he whoops and then guzzles something from a cup. Robin slips around him to continue her pursuit of Melanie.
She finally catches up to Melanie in the parking lot. Her friend sits on a bench, head in hands. “I’m sorry,” Robin says again. “I’m sorry I ruined the game for you.”
“Why do you always have to do this? Why can’t you be happy?”
“Mel—”
“You think you’re the only one in the world who has problems? My dad is dead, my mom is a total bitch, and until a year ago I was a boy! You don’t think that makes me sad sometimes? But I don’t sit around brooding about it all day and night.”
“I know. That’s what I like about you. It’s why we’re such a great team.”
“Maybe I don’t want to be a team anymore.”
“Don’t talk like that, Mel. I love you.”
“I love you too, but what kind of life can we have together?”
Though she knows she shouldn’t, Robin rolls her eyes. “Christ, we’re only eighteen. It’s a little early to start picking out the wedding china.”
“Forget it. You don’t understand.”
“Look, you knew who I was when we started all this. You can’t expect me to turn into some sunny little airhead.”
“Is that what you think I am?”
“No.” Robin sighs and then looks away. “I didn’t mean that. I didn’t mean anything. I’m really stressed out right now. Can we start over?”
Melanie considers this for a long moment. She finally nods. “Fine. Let’s go back to the motel. We can take a swim and a little nap before the dance. If you want.”
“That sounds like Heaven,” Robin says. She takes Melanie’s hand to let her lead the way out of here.
***
As much as she wanted to, Starla resisted the urge to make love to Billy in Mr. Clark’s house. It wouldn’t be right to do it in his house after he has been so kind to them. For his part, Billy didn’t even ask or try to force the issue. He seemed content merely to hold Starla in his arms.
She slips out of those arms when she hears the rooster. It has been so long since she woke up to that sound; she doesn’t realize how much she has missed it until now. Billy is still asleep, so she lets him go on sleeping while she gets dressed and then pads downstairs.
She’s not surprised to see Mr. Clark already up and dressed. He has a mug of coffee in one hand while he reads the morning paper. “Should be plenty of coffee left,” he says.
“Thanks. I think I’ll take a walk first. Get some of that country air.”
“Knock yourself out.”
She wishes she had a jacket with her when she steps outside. She hugs herself as she walks along the grass moist with dew. So long as she keeps moving, it shouldn’t be too uncomfortable.
The sun is starting to come up. She wishes Billy were here to watch the sunrise with her; it really is a sight to behold out here. The colors are a lot more vibrant without all the pollution and there’s not the sounds of the city to interrupt her quiet contemplation of the scene.
It’s not much of a surprise when she finds herself standing at the driveway to the Shaw family farm. Everything looks the same as she remembers: the house with its green shutters she had repainted every year, the red barn she had helped Pa rebuild after a storm, and even Pa’s old pick-up she had dragged from a ditch one winter.
Her heart almost stops when she sees Pa emerge from the house. Has he noticed her standing out here? She should start walking again, but she’s transfixed by the scene. He stares her direction for a moment and then he starts towards the barn, probably to feed the animals and then milk the cows. It’s amazing he still has the energy for all that at seventy.
A hand clamps down on her shoulder. She spins around to see her own face—or the face that used to belong to her. Stan Shaw is dressed in jeans, a flannel shirt, and a Carhart jacket, his typical outfit when he’s visiting the farm. “Are you lost, young lady?” he asks.
“No. I’m taking a stroll,” she says.
“You shouldn’t be here. They’re not your family anymore.”
He knows. Of course he knows; he’s Apex Man after all. She looks down at her feet like a scolded child. “I’m sorry. I was in the area.”
“Take Billy and go home. Today.”
“I will,” she mumbles obediently. She wants to tell him they’ll always be her family too, but she can’t. She gave them up a year ago.
“Just be careful walking around at night. I might not be there to save you next time.”
“Thank you.”
She turns and begins to walk back to Mr. Clark’s house. She finds their rental car waiting in the driveway. Her fists clench at the sight of it. Of all the arrogant, reckless things to do. How’s she supposed to explain to Mr. Clark or Billy how the car got there?
She shakes her head. She wasn’t so smug when she was still Apex Man, was she? She thinks back on those years but isn’t sure. It’s a lot different seeing him from the outside like this. She can start to see why Colonel Storm and Major Dalton never really trusted the Super Squad; it’s hard to trust someone who wields so much power.
Instead of going inside to face the music with Mr. Clark, she decides to head into the barn. She doubts she’s strong enough to milk any cows, but she can at least pet them. When she gets inside, she sees only one cow that looks to be on its last legs. There are a couple of pigs left. She squats down to watch them through the slats of the fence.
A hand touches her shoulder again. This time she spins around to bat it away. Only now it’s Billy standing behind her, not that smug jerk Apex Man. “Sorry,” they say at the same time and then laugh.
“Mr. Clark said you might be out here.”
“I don’t get to see cows and pigs much these days.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen them up close like this.”
“Never?”
“Maybe in a zoo or something. I don’t remember.”
“Oh.” She grabs Billy’s hand to pull him closer to the pen. “Well, they’re not so bad. You have to know how to relate to them.”
She sticks a hand through the fence. One of the pigs sniffs at it as if to determine if she has any food in her hand. She gently strokes the pig behind its ear. “See?”
“I don’t think I’d want to eat meat ever again if I was around these all the time.”
Starla shrugs. “That’s why they’re here. They aren’t pets.” That’s what Pa told her back when she was six and they had to take some of their pigs to be slaughtered. “You have to enjoy what time you have with them.”
“Kind of like people,” he says.
“I guess so.” She pulls her hand away from the pig. “I think we should head back today. There’s really nothing to do here.”
“You still don’t have your ID yet.”
“We’ll figure something out.”
He helps her up to her feet. As they start to leave the barn, he asks, “How did the car get here?”
Chapter 20
Elise steps out of the fitting room. Paul insists she do a turn for him. “That looks fabulous,” he says.
“I guess,” she mumbles. She turns to a mirror. The black leather jacket and short white dress don’t look too bad on her. The ensemble gives her the right amount of toughness and femininity while her smaller glasses add a touch of intelligence. If her face weren’t so pale and dotted with acne scars she might even be pretty.
He runs a hand through her hair. “All we need to do now is get this cut. Oh and some piercings would really take things up a notch.”
“Can’t we go home?” she whines. She gestures to the fleet of bags already at Paul’s feet. “Haven’t we done enough for today?”
“I thought you girls loved shopping.”
“Even girls can get tired of it after a while.”
“Fine, Miss Party Pooper.”
They check out with Paul’s credit card. She doesn’t want to know how much they’ve racked up on it in two weeks. A worse thought is that Lord Neptune, the one who helped do this to her, might be slipping Paul money to pay the bills.
As they walk along the sidewalk, Elise notes a couple college boys checking her out. About a year ago she would have been elated by this thought; now she slinks by with her head down. Paul gestures to a coffeehouse at the corner. “You look like you could use a pick-me-up.”
“Paul—”
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