“Come on, young lady.” He tugs her into the coffeehouse. She guards the bags at a table while he orders for them.
She takes the phone Paul bought for her out of her purse, but there are of course no calls for her. Who would call her? Erek can’t call her from Pacifica and he wouldn’t dare leave their baby to go to the surface. Even if he did, he doesn’t know her phone number.
Paul sets a latte down in front of her. “Anything interesting?”
“No. There has to be some way I can contact them.”
“If you ask Ellis—”
“I am not talking to that creep, let alone asking him for favors.” She gulps down some of the latte, ignoring how hot it is. “He put them up to doing this to me so he can have me out of the way.”
“Why would he need to do that? He’s already the king.”
She scoffs at that. He’s no king; he’s an arrogant prick only concerned with appearances. Is that really how she used to act? Had she really been that selfish before she met Erek?
Paul shoves a napkin towards her. She realizes she’s crying now. It happens a few times a day, always when she thinks of Erek and Ariel. “I miss them so much.”
“Come on, sweetie, don’t be that way. They can still come see you, can’t they?”
“Ariel’s too little. She’s not ready for the transition yet.”
“But it can’t take too long, can it? Your mom gave you away when you were a baby.”
“And I got lucky. I don’t want her to have to go through that.”
“Still, it won’t be too long. You have to be patient.”
“You can’t understand what it’s like. Ariel is my daughter. She grew inside me for nine months. Losing her is like losing a piece of me—the most important piece.”
Paul sips his latte thoughtfully. Then he says, “Maybe I can talk to Ellis. He might be able to get those fascists to change you back.”
“They can’t change me back. They don’t have a cure. They didn’t even know what the stuff would do to us.”
“Oh.”
She reaches across the table to pat his hand. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do. And what you’ve done for me. You’ve been a great friend. I don’t think I can ever repay you.”
“It’s my pleasure, sweetie.”
They share a brief hug and then Elise stands up. “Come on, let’s go home so I can put this stuff away. Maybe then I can go get a haircut.”
They try to keep the conversation light the rest of the way back to Paul’s building. Elise still feels her heart aching inside, but there’s nothing she can do. Like Paul said, she has to be patient, wait until Erek and Ariel can visit her on the surface. Then what? She imagines her sitting on a dock, watching her husband and daughter swim away while she has to remain behind. The only other choice would be for them to live up here permanently, but that would deny Ariel her heritage and Erek the greatest joy of his life other than his family. Maybe she should have stayed in the water and drowned—
She drops the bags in her hands to see a body on the steps to Paul’s building. She races forward to kneel beside the woman in tattered, blood-stained rags. Elise brushes aside tresses of dark brown hair streaked with gray. The woman’s face has a black eye and split lip, but it’s unmistakable. “Mother, what did they do to you?”
***
Allison sits in the passenger’s seat of the car, grateful Mom will at least let her sit up front. She worried Mom would have her sit on a booster seat like a kindergartner. In this floral print dress, with her hair bound into pigtails, and a pink Hello Kitty backpack on her lap she looks about like a kindergartner. It’s hard to believe two weeks ago she was a woman in her thirties with a child of her own.
The car pulls up to the curb of Alexander Hamilton Middle School. Mom leans over to put an arm around Allison before she can escape. “You have your inhaler?”
“Yes.”
“The nurse has an extra one if you lose it.”
“I know.”
“They’ll have your schedule in the office. You go there first to get it.”
“I will.”
“If you want to come home, you give me a call and I’ll get you.”
“I know.”
“Come here,” Mom says. She pulls Allison across the seat to kiss her forehead. “I love you, honey.”
“I love you too, Mom.”
“Have a good day at school.”
Allison only nods and then finally manages to get out of the car. She’s sure Mom would go with her if she could, but Mom stays in the car. Allison trudges up to the top step of the school. She turns to wave at Mom. Then she’s on her own.
The office is pretty easy to find. There are signs helpfully labeled “Office” with arrows pointing the way. The hard part is seeing those signs as she keeps her eyes focused on her pink Keds most of the way.
The walk to the office seems to take forever. When she was still Velocity Gal it would have taken a fraction of a second to get there. Now it seems like an hour goes by before she reaches the glass door labeled “Office.”
A chubby secretary with black hair fading to gray looks up at her. “Hi,” Allison says in almost a whisper. “I’m Allison Bass. I’m new here.”
“Oh, yes, your mother called the other day. She said you’re a very special little girl.”
Allison shrugs slightly. She can only imagine the embarrassing things Mom told the secretary and the principal. They probably know Allison’s entire life story, as much of it as Mom could tell them.
The secretary hands her a sheet of paper, on which is typed the list of classes Mom enrolled her in. Then she hands Allison a pink sheet of paper that depicts the layout of the school. “If you need any help finding a class, ask a grown up. OK, sweetie?”
“OK.”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
She plods along the hallways, trying to ignore all her new classmates. She fought tooth-and-nail against this plan, but ultimately she is a child now and subject to Mom’s rules. One of those rules is that Allison can’t hang around the house all day like a vagabond. Since she’s too young for a job, she has to go to school.
Her first class is English. While the teacher goes on about Mark Twain, Allison scribbles in a Hello Kitty notebook that matches her backpack. She does her best to recall the exact composition of the chemical that turned her from plain old Dr. Alan Bass into Velocity Man over a decade ago. If she can get her hands on those chemicals, then maybe she can cure her asthma and get her speed back, like she did before.
That likely won’t cure her of what Storm and company did to her. She might cure her asthma and get her speed back, but she’ll still probably be thirteen years old.
A woman clears her throat. Allison looks up to see the teacher glaring down at her. Kids around her snicker behind their hands. “Could I see what you’re doodling there?” the teacher asks.
Allison hands the notebook to her. The teacher stares at it, but of course she has no idea what the complex equations mean. Not even a lot of her colleagues at Grant Laboratories had understood those equations. The teacher gives up after a minute and then gives the notebook back. “I expect you to pay attention, young lady.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“No more doodling, understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Allison can feel her chest tightening. She resists the urge to reach for the inhaler in the pocket of her mustard-colored sweater. Mom made her wear the sweater so she would have easy access to the inhaler should she need it. Allison didn’t see why she couldn’t keep it in a purse or a pocket of a pair of jeans, but now she’s glad to know she can snatch it quickly if she needs to.
The pressure on her chest eases once the teacher returns to the front of the classroom and the other kids turn away from her. She hunches down in her seat to wait for the bell. When it finally rings, she gathers up her things. The teacher gives her the stink eye, but doesn’t say anything.
Allison’s next class is
basic chemistry. She could pass this course with her eyes closed. She recognizes the woman who writes her name as Mrs. Tanner on the board. Mrs. Tanner—or Dorothy Kahanek as she had been back then—had been an intern at T.U.R.B.O. Labs when Alan Bass first started to work there. Allison hunkers down in her seat, but Mrs. Tanner finds her anyway.
“And you must be Allison,” she says.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Your mom says you want to be a scientist when you grow up.”
Allison resists the urge to slam her forehead on the lab table. Typical of Mom to tell her chemistry teacher something like that. She doesn’t want to know how they got talking in the first place. It wouldn’t surprise her if Mom had already talked to all her teachers to make sure they’re worthy enough to teach her precious daughter. “Yes, ma’am,” she mumbles.
“What kind of scientist do you want to be?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s all right. You’re young. There’s no need to rush into anything.”
While Mrs. Tanner begins to lecture on the joys of chemistry, Allison looks around the lab. The equipment in here is crude for her purposes. The bigger problem is going to be getting the chemicals she needs. They aren’t the kind of thing one typically finds in a middle school chemistry lab. Most of them can’t even be bought by the general public. She could find what she needs at Grant Laboratories, but they won’t let her inside now except perhaps for a tour.
But as she stares at Mrs. Tanner, a desperate plan comes to mind. She waits for the bell to sound again. While the rest of the kids can’t get out of the room fast enough, Allison shuffles up to where Mrs. Tanner is erasing the blackboard. Allison clears her throat, which sounds almost like a hiccup now.
Mrs. Tanner turns and smiles. “You don’t have to wait to be dismissed, dear.”
“I, um, I—” she has to stop and take a deep breath. “I was thinking about what you said about chemistry. I think it’s something I’d like to go into.”
“I thought you might. Following in your big brother’s footsteps?”
“Uh-huh.”
“He is a pretty brilliant chemist.”
“Thanks.”
Mrs. Tanner looks up at the clock. “You’d better hurry if you want to get to your next class on time.”
Allison takes another deep breath, but her chest keeps tightening on her. She stammers, “I was wondering if...if I...if I could maybe...do some work in here.”
“Oh? What sort of work?”
“An...experiment.”
A bell rings. Mrs. Tanner puts a hand on her shoulder. “How about we talk about this later? After school maybe? You come by and we can talk about it, OK?”
“Thank you.”
She starts for the door, but Mrs. Tanner calls for her to stop. Has she changed her mind? Has she realized Allison is the same person as her “big brother?” No, she holds out a slip of blue paper. “Here’s a hall pass.”
“Thank you.” Then Allison scurries away, the first phase of her plan complete.
***
The bedroom was no longer far enough away, so Robin moved into the former servant’s quarters. With Jasper’s help she was able to get the place cleaned up enough to at least be habitable. Sleeping on a cot beside a potbellied stove is a far cry from even the Hampton in Cambridge, but Robin has been through worse.
Jasper hired a couple of big strong men to move a treadmill and some weights into the cabin so Robin can exercise without going into the mansion. She’s on the treadmill when her phone rings. She figures it must be Jasper to check on what she wants for lunch. Then she looks on the display to see the call is coming from Alexander Hamilton Middle School in Gleason, outside Focal City. Some kid making a prank call?
“Who’s this?”
“Rob, it’s me,” a girl’s voice squeaks.
“Who?”
“Al...Allison.”
“Allison, what’s going on? Where have you been?”
“I...I can’t...I can’t talk about that. Not...like this.”
“You sound out of breath. Is someone chasing you?”
“No. Robin...please. I need...I need your help.” There’s a pause during which Robin hears a hiss. She’s not sure what that is, but from the background noise she figures Allison must be calling from the school cafeteria.
“I’ll do whatever I can. What do you need?”
She expects Allison to ask for back up or an extraction. About the last thing she expects is for Allison to recite a list of chemicals. Is she starting a meth lab? “Slow down, Allison.”
“You’re recording...aren’t you?”
“Always.”
“Then...it’s fine.” She continues with her list. Once she’s finished, she says, “These are...very special. You can’t find them...at a store. I thought...I thought you could find them.”
“Holloway Corporation has a chemical subsidiary. I’m sure they’d have this stuff. The problem will be getting my hands on it.”
“Why?”
“That prick’s taken over the company. The board’s put him back in charge as CEO. Legally there’s nothing I can do. He’s Rob Holloway and I’m his illegitimate screw-up ward.”
“Oh. If...if you can’t...”
“I can do it. I might need a couple of days. What’s this about?”
A bell sounds. “I have to go,” Allison says.
“Be careful.”
“Thanks.” The phone disconnects. This keeps getting weirder, Robin thinks. It’s good to know Allison is alive, but there’s obviously something wrong with her. Her location, her voice, and that she hung up as soon as a bell rang all point to one thing: Allison is a student at that middle school, not a visitor. How the hell is that possible?
She hops off the treadmill. She needs to stop cowering in this cabin and actually get to work on this. It’s clear Elise’s suspicions were right. Someone bumped off Starla and now they’ve gotten to Allison and Elise. Her fists clench at the thought she’s so insignificant they haven’t even tried to neutralize her yet.
She’ll show them who’s insignificant when she cracks the military’s computer system like a goddamned walnut. After she has rooted out all of Storm’s dirty little secrets, then she’ll find a way to take down these impostors. But first she’ll get Allison her chemicals. She taps the phone to listen to the call again. She wishes she had all the equipment down in the bunker to analyze it to confirm her suspicions. For now she’ll have to make do.
Then the front door of the cabin explodes.
Chapter 21
Thanks to years of training, Robin doesn’t get so much as a splinter from the blast. The concussion is the worst part of it, making her ears ring and her head swim. She gropes around to find a weapon, settling on a broken chair leg. She finds it in time as he appears in what’s left of the doorway.
Of course he’s not so sloppy as to plant a bomb and then assume she’s dead. He has to make sure of it himself. This certainly isn’t how she wanted a final confrontation between them to go, but she has to make the best of it. She squats down behind the wreckage of the bed to wait.
She knows something’s wrong when she sees the gun in his hand. Midnight Spectre doesn’t use guns. Then again he doesn’t bomb innocent teenage girls either. The bastard has finally gone over the edge.
“You little brat, come out where I can see you!” he shouts, his voice muffled from a mask to filter out the smoke.
His words give her an idea. He continues to underestimate her, to think she’s some puny kid he can push around. He doesn’t seem to grasp that inside she is still the same hardened fighter he is.
She stumbles out of the wreckage, crocodile tears in her eyes and the chair leg tucked into the back of her pants. “Why did you do that?” she whines. “I wasn’t hurting anything.”
Even with the mask over his mouth, she can feel his sneer. “Look at you. You’re a joke. And you have the audacity to call yourself Midnight Spectre? As if anyone in this city could
ever mistake you for me.”
He aims the gun at her head. She begins to sob now. “Please don’t kill me. I don’t want to die!”
“Shut up!” he roars. He whips her face with the barrel of the pistol. She’s ready for this and already rolling to her right to make it seem like he has really hurt her. While she rolls, she grabs the chair leg.
As she gets to her feet, she brings the chair leg around to smack his right hand. The gun flies off into the smoking ruins of the cabin. Robin wastes no time to rake the chair leg across his face. The pointed ends of the leg are sharp enough to slice through the mask and leave some nasty gashes. He grunts with pain, but has the wherewithal to swat her on the side of the head.
She’s ready for this too—she is him, after all. As she falls, she snags something from off his utility belt. She grins slightly to see it’s the bolo he used on her earlier. Well, turnabout is fair play. She whirls the bolo around her head a couple of times and then throws it at his feet. The strings of the bolo wrap around his ankles, drawing them together. He tumbles forward to land hard on the floor.
If she knew where the gun landed she might be able to finish this once and for all. Since she isn’t sure where it is, she decides the smart thing is to get the hell out of here before he can recover. She sprints out of the ruins of the cabin, into the relatively fresh air outside. Her first impulse is to drop to her knees to take a few deep breaths, but she can’t. He’s going to get free of that bolo soon enough and then he’ll be after her.
Her plan is to get to the bunker to grab some weapons and then take one of the vehicles out of here. A better option appears in the form of an Audi sedan. The blue headlights blind her, but she hears Jasper shout her name.
She staggers over to the passenger’s side of the car and then drops onto the seat. She barely has the door closed before Jasper floors it. The gates to the mansion yawn open in time to let the sedan speed through.
Robin turns in her seat to see the impostor in the driveway, his fists clenched with rage. She turns back around and sighs with relief. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome, Mistress Robin. Shall I assume we’re heading to Cambridge now?”
Girl Power Omnibus (Gender Swap Superhero Fiction) Page 35