She’s in the middle of typing when a message comes up on the screen. She taps the icon to bring up what looks like a control room. Allison and Sally are tied to chairs, their heads sagging to indicate they’re unconscious. Between them stands a man with his face wrapped in bandages. He wears a lab coat over a single-breasted suit, which makes him look like a mad scientist from an old horror movie.
“Hello, Robin. I thought I’d interrupt you to let you know I have your friends up in the control room. If you want them back, I suggest you get up here.”
“Where is it?”
“It’s up the stairs in the factory. And bring the rest of your friends.”
The signal cuts off. Robin keys the communicator to Starla. She relays what the man said. “Meet us at the bottom of the stairs. We could use a lift.”
“All right,” Starla says. “Just be careful.”
“This sounds like the trap you were warning about,” Elise says.
“Most certainly.”
“And you’re going to walk into it?”
“You’d rather let him kill Allison and Sally?”
“No, of course not. They’re still my friends.”
Starla waits for them at the bottom floor of the factory. From the look of it, she has done a pretty thorough job already of smashing the robots under construction. It’ll be a long time before any of those things go after another city on Earth.
“Someone call for a lift?” Starla asks, trying to sound cheery.
“It’ll be a lot quicker,” Robin says.
“I’ll walk,” Elise says.
Robin wonders if she should ask Dr. Hanover to do some counseling between Elise and Starla when this is all over. It’s clear there’s going to be a lot of things to sort out. In the meantime, they need to finish the job here.
Robin knows better than to argue about this. “Go ahead. See you at the top.”
Starla wraps an arm around Robin’s waist. Then they float into the air. In ordinary circumstances Robin would never agree to something like this, but at the moment time seems to be a factor. She doesn’t want to keep the homicidal maniac waiting for whatever he has in store for them. She wouldn’t be surprised if he has one of those little ray guns like the one he made for Dalton.
Once they reach the top, it’s clear where the control room is. Robin marches into the room, summoning all of her five-feet-two-inches. The Tinker is at least a foot taller than her, but she tries not to let this intimidate her. “Hello again, Robin.”
“Again?”
“I don’t suppose you would recognize me. We’ve both undergone some changes since the last time we met. It was at that fundraiser for Mayor Cotchery. You came with Renee Kim from the marketing department. I always thought you two were a cute couple. She just got a divorce. Maybe the two of you could reconnect.”
The pieces fall into place for Robin as the Tinker speaks. She should have seen it before. She only hopes the shock doesn’t show on her face as she says, “Hello Ezekiel.”
“Good, I was hoping I wouldn’t have to provide the fearless detective with more clues than that.”
“You were supposed to be dead.”
“But I didn’t die. I was thrown clear of the explosion. As you might have guessed, I was not exactly in mint condition.”
“I’m sorry, Ezekiel. If I’d known—”
“I’m sure you would have, Robin. The thing is, I was in a coma for three years. I’m not sure why they didn’t pull the plug on me. Then one day, just like that, I woke up.”
“Why didn’t you call me? I would have helped you.”
“Of course you would. You would have got the best plastic surgeons money could buy.”
“Then why didn’t you call? You were my friend.”
“While I was recovering my wits, they let me watch the news on television. What I saw made me sick. Your ‘Super’ Squad might have stopped maniacs like Rad Geiger and Dr. Roboto, but what were you doing for the rest of the world’s problems? People were worse off than before I went into the coma.”
“And invading the world with robots was going to solve the world’s problems?”
“Major Dalton and I were creating a new Super Squad, a better one. One that would follow our orders. In time they would have ended war, famine, and many other problems plaguing mankind.”
“Those clones of yours were already deteriorating. All you did was unleash the four horsemen on the world.”
“And maybe that would have been better. Wipe the slate clean. Let us start over from scratch.” Ezekiel makes a sort of choking noise that Robin assumes is a laugh. “We’ll never know now. At least until I can get a new sample of everyone’s DNA. I suppose we’ll have to make do with another female Squad.”
“You’re not getting anyone’s DNA. We’re taking you back to Earth and then we’re going to get you some help.”
“I think not, Robin.” When Ezekiel touches his belt, Robin waits for the room to fill with pink light. Instead, a section of the floor opens up. Through the gap come a half-dozen robots, these only about six feet tall. Robin manages to duck behind a computer terminal before they start firing.
It’s clear from the color of the blasts that they aren’t normal weapons; the greenish tint indicates these are gamma rays intended to neutralize Starla. Anyone else they hit will suffer nasty burns and radiation poisoning. “Starla, get out of here!”
Starla tries to dive for the window of the control room, but she’s too late. One of the blasts hits her in the center of the chest. Starla should scream and then collapse to the floor. Instead, she shrugs it off. This startles everyone, especially her.
Then she shakes her head as if to clear cobwebs away. She lunges forward to smash the robots to pieces. She’s about to grab Ezekiel when he taps his belt buckle. He disappears in a flash of blue-white light.
“Don’t worry,” Robin says, “I know where he’s going.”
***
Starla fetches the teleporter from Melanie, who pouts about not being included in the mission to fetch Ezekiel. “Starla and I can take care of this,” Robin says.
“But—”
“He’s my friend. Maybe I can still get through to him.”
“All right. Just be careful.”
“I will.” They share a dry little kiss and then Robin and Starla teleport. It’s like a game of hide-and-seek then as they go from one teleporter location to the next in the station. At each stop along the way, Starla uses her IR vision to see if Ezekiel is around. Then they try the next location.
On the fifth try they find Ezekiel hunched over a control panel. He must be trying to program the thing to take him to Earth. Robin wastes no time to hit him in the shoulder with a shuriken. Before he can pull out a weapon, Starla grabs him by the collar. She lifts him off his feet to dangle him in the air.
Robin goes over to the control panel. As she figured, he was planning to go back to Earth. She recognizes the location as a Holloway Corporation proving ground in the Nevada desert. Unless they’re using it right now there probably wouldn’t be anyone to see him. A short hike to the nearest highway and he could disappear again.
“It’s over, Ezekiel,” Robin says.
“No!”
“We’re going to take you back to Earth. You and your little buddy Carrie Dalton can face the music for what you did. After that, we can start getting you the help you need.”
“I’m not the one who needs help. Look at you. Look at all of you. A bunch of bimbos thinking you can save the world.”
“We seem to be doing well enough,” Starla says.
“Hardly. What have you done to fight all the injustice in the world? All the poverty? You support a government of millionaires who only care about lining their pockets.”
“It’s not perfect but it’s the best we got,” Starla says in that earnest backcountry way of hers. “A lot better than letting you rule the world.”
Ezekiel laughs at her. “You were the one who made all this possible. All we
had to do was make you see how pathetic you really are. And you, you dumb country mouse, you fell for it hook, line, and sinker. We thought it might take more than one incident and one newspaper column, but I guess we overestimated you.”
Starla’s face burns with heat. Her hand wraps tightly around the front of Ezekiel’s shirt. Her eyes flash red from her IR vision. All it would take is one little burst of her flame breath to finish what Hitter’s car bomb started all those years ago.
“Go on and snap my neck. Prove you’ve got some guts underneath that spandex.”
Starla screams and then hurls Ezekiel away from her. He lands on the teleporter pad. With a mock salute, he pushes a button. There’s a flash of light and then he’s gone.
Starla pounds her fist against the wall in frustration. She starts towards the pad. “We have to go after him.”
“No need,” Robin says.
“What do you mean? He went somewhere with that teleporter. Wherever it is, we have to follow him.”
“You can follow him, but I can’t. Not without a spacesuit.”
Starla’s face pales as the realization sets in. “He teleported into space? Why would he do that?”
“He didn’t. I did.”
“Robin, what did you do?”
“While you two were talking, I reprogrammed the coordinates. If I set them right, he should be floating amongst Saturn’s rings right now.”
“Oh my God. You killed him.”
“I couldn’t let us take him back. Not after I saw what he’d become.” She looks down sadly at her feet. Tears come to her eyes. “I don’t expect you to understand. Ezekiel was more than my friend. In those early days he was a mentor to me. He was almost like a father.
“When I started out, he helped me because he thought it was right. He understood what I needed to do and why I needed to do it. It was the same for the Holloway Corporation. He always knew what was in not just the best interests of the company, but for the whole damned planet. And he never asked for a single goddamned thing for himself in return. Most of his salary he gave away to charity.
“If we brought him back to Earth for a trial, everyone would see the monster he’d become. They’d throw him in there with Clownface and Rad Geiger and all the other whackos, the people he helped us to stop. I couldn’t do that to him. Do you understand?”
Starla nods to her. She has tears in her eyes too. “It’s all right. I understand. I won’t tell anyone what happened.”
“Thank you.”
Starla scoops her up in a hug. Robin groans with pain. When Starla puts her down, Robin says, “I think you broke a couple of ribs.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m teasing.”
They share a smile and then Starla says, “Let’s go home.”
Epilogue
Robin stands on a box so she can see over the podium. It’s demeaning, but not as demeaning as asking someone to build her a child-size podium. She self-consciously runs a hand over the turquoise suit Melanie claims makes her look the most grown up. This morning, in anticipation of the press conference, she got her hair cut and a manicure to add to her image.
She looks out over the sea of reporters. Kate King is there in the front row. Off to one side is Billy, Starla’s new main squeeze. They actually exchanged winks after Starla mounted the stage to take her place with the others. That Billy knows Apex Girl’s true identity makes Robin nervous, but there’s nothing she can do about it.
Robin clears her throat and then begins. “Hello everyone. I’m glad you could make it out here. I know it took some doing, but I assure you this is important.”
She wishes she had a glass of water up here from which she could sip as she speaks. There’s plenty of water around them, but as the saying goes, water water everywhere but not a drop to drink. “I’ve brought you here today because recently we all faced a grave issue that threatened the security of the whole world. Two rogue agents of the United States military, working in concert with a third individual, left us at the mercy of a group of clones masquerading as superheroes. If not for the heroic actions of these women behind me, we could all have faced annihilation.”
“Don’t you think that’s a little extreme?” a reporter from the Wall Street Journal asks.
“No and I think your colleague Ms. King can back my assessment of those people,” Robin says. Kate shifts uncomfortably in her seat. Since she was abducted by a jealous Apex Man, she has changed her tune about the female Super Squad.
“These rogue agents compromised global security. They forcibly tried to take the powers away from members of the Super Squad. They replaced them with clones who were mentally unstable.
“That’s why I’ve decided as the new CEO of Holloway Corporation that steps need to be taken to ensure such a breach of security cannot happen again. That’s why we’re out here today. This former oil platform we’re standing on is the new headquarters of the Super Squad.
“The renovations to this platform and its future upkeep are all being funded by Holloway Corporation. While some investors may suggest this is not a profitable endeavor, I think allowing our customers to sleep comfortably in their beds at night without the fear that a maniac will break into their homes or try to take over the world is of vital interest to this company. The board of Holloway Corporation has agreed.”
This isn’t exactly true. The board fought her tooth and nail over this decision. Some even threatened to have her competency questioned in court. In the end, with the male Robin Holloway gone and with her as his legal heir, control of the company reverted to her and the board could do nothing to stop her.
“You might be asking why I chose an oil platform in the middle of nowhere. The answer is simple: this platform is in international waters. That means we are not subject to any government’s laws. As such, the Super Squad will be allowed to function without having to report to any government officials. They will finally have complete autonomy.”
A Fox News reporter asks, “You mean they’ll answer to nobody?”
“That’s what complete autonomy means.”
“Then what’s to stop them from going rogue?”
“I don’t have a crystal ball to see into the future, but I can say these women have already risked their lives to save the world on numerous occasions over the last year. If that’s not proof enough for you then you can—” She stops as Melanie hisses at her.
Robin clears her throat and then goes on. “In addition to this, Holloway Corporation is beginning a new initiative, the Stanford Initiative. In memory of the late Dr. Ezekiel Stanford, a great friend and mentor to my father, Holloway Corporation will begin seeking out research that can help solve many of the problems we face: famine, disease, and global warming for starters. Anyone with a project that requires funding can submit an application through our new website. Those we see as feasible and in the service of mankind will be given a grant to continue their work. To this end, we hope to find solutions to problems too big even for the women behind me.”
There’s some applause to accompany this. Robin takes a moment to wipe sweat from her brow. She opens the floor up to questions. It’s another grueling hour under the tropical sun before she’s able to get off the stage. She leads the Super Squad into its new digs.
The converted oil platform isn’t exactly the Hall of Justice from Justice League comics. The corridors are cramped and most of the place still smells like oil and male body odor. The highlight of the tour is a conference room packed with all the electronics from the bunker. There’s also a 3D holographic map, on which they monitor situations around the world. A half-dozen leather executive chairs ring the map for when they need to meet in style. Upstairs are living quarters, not that Robin expects anyone to actually live here, and a storage room converted into a brig.
The brig has an occupant now. Starla shoves the impostor Robin Holloway inside. The girl is on enough tranquilizers that she probably has no idea where she is. It was necessary to bring her so she could dress u
p as Midnight Spectre in order to conceal Robin’s secret identity. With that done, they’ll keep the girl in the brig until they’re ready to take her back to the asylum she calls home now.
Robin watches the girl for a moment; she sits dully in the corner, red hair covering her face like a veil. Clad in only a tank top and sweatpants now, it’s easy to see where the girl tried to slit her wrists only two days into her confinement, which necessitated the transfer to the asylum. If Robin has anything to say about it, the girl will never leave the place.
The girl lets out a low groan. Then she begins fiercely clawing at her breasts with her fingernails. Dr. Hanover says this is something the girl frequently does, to the point they have to make sure to keep her fingernails clipped at all times. “Get off me. Get off me!” she shrieks. She continues digging at her breasts, trying to tear them from her body.
Robin jumps to feel a hand on her shoulder. It’s just Melanie, still clad in her Outcast uniform except for the mask. “Sorry,” Melanie says. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“She’s the one who scares me.” Robin gestures to the girl in the cell, the dark mirror version of herself. She takes a deep breath and then says something she hasn’t even said to Dr. Hanover yet. “When I look at her, I can’t help thinking I could have ended up like that. I could have ended up in a padded cell, trying to rip off my breasts or to kill myself outright.”
“But you didn’t end up like that. You’re a perfectly normal girl now. Well, maybe not so normal.”
Robin swats at her playfully. “I’m serious. For all practical purposes she is me.”
“Maybe on the outside. Not where it counts.” Melanie kisses her on the lips. The Robin in the cell shrieks like she’s been electrocuted; it must pain her to see essentially herself kissing another girl. Robin thinks of what Elise has said about the abuse Robin gave to her all the years they were men. Had she really been a self-hating closet homosexual all along? Or is it that Melanie and her have a special bond? “Hey, come on, cheer up. The press conference went great. I’m sure the website is already down from all the people trying to sign up.”
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