Girl Power Omnibus (Gender Swap Superhero Fiction)

by P. T. Dilloway

  Book 3: League of Evil

  Prologue

  For the first time in thirty years, Captain Jake Howe looked up at the stars. The other times he’d stood on the roof of headquarters, he’d been too preoccupied to study the sky. Not that there was much of a sky to see in Redoubt City. The light pollution wiped out all but the brightest stars, but that was still more than he’d seen since taking his kids to the planetarium fifteen years earlier.

  It wouldn’t be much longer until he could get a look at the stars every night. This morning he’d put down the deposit on a cottage upstate. Howe and his wife would retire there in six months—at least that was the plan. He’d toyed with retiring before, but things had been too chaotic to ever go through with it.

  And there had been Midnight Spectre to deal with. If Howe had retired, he had no guarantee his successor would work with the vigilante the way he had. There were plenty of younger officers in the RCPD who would have gleefully tried to take down Midnight Spectre to put a feather in their cap.

  That didn’t matter anymore. In the last three years, crime in Redoubt City had dropped to its lowest level in recorded history. Whereas four years ago there had been a dozen murders every single day, now there was maybe one a month.

  There were two people responsible for this: Robin Holloway and the superhero known as Apex Girl. When Holloway had taken control of her father’s company and then decreed she would be using the company’s money to fund the Super Squad’s new digs in international waters, Howe had echoed the sentiments of the newspaper columnists who suggested this was the mad dream of a naïve eighteen-year-old girl.

  But it had worked, thanks mostly to Apex Girl. She had dropped out of sight for months, to the point it was assumed she was dead, but when she finally returned, she was different. It was more than that she’d gotten a haircut; she had a new determination. Whereas before she had seemed to wait for crime to happen, now she flushed the criminals from their lairs. None of the so-called “supervillains”—Rad Geiger, Clownface, Neanderthal among others—could touch her. Within a year all of these villains were locked away.

  With the supervillains out of the way, Howe and the rest of the RCPD could focus on the mundane criminals. Before it had seemed like a whack-a-mole game where they would hit one crime lord only for another to pop up, but after the supervillains were gone, it seemed the fight had gone out of the rest of the criminal element. The tide turned, up to the point now where the most dangerous case on Howe’s desk was someone making illegal DVDs.

  That was until Howe was about to leave for the night. In the old days, to reach a superhero you needed a floodlight on a rooftop or a special red phone. Nowadays Howe’s phone vibrated and a text message from Midnight Spectre’s anonymous account popped onto the screen. “Rooftop, 10pm, Urgent.” The message was even terser than usual.

  Howe had no idea what could be so urgent at this point. He had checked with his contacts to make sure all the supervillains were accounted for. His contacts in Washington assured him there was no chatter to indicate a terrorist threat. There didn’t seem to be anything worth bringing him up here, despite how nice it was to look up at the night sky.

  The thought nagged at the back of his mind that the girl might simply be bored. Or she might be losing it. He tried to push this thought aside. The female Midnight Spectre had proven herself time and again to be as dedicated and tenacious as the male one he’d worked with for about a decade. Still there remained a part of him who couldn’t stop from thinking of her as some silly girl playing dress-up in the former superhero’s clothes.

  The first time he’d seen the female Midnight Spectre in person had been on this rooftop. He’d seen her on television and in the newspapers, but that hadn’t brought home how young she was. She could probably go to school with his youngest daughter; she might even be his youngest daughter, except she was a good six inches too short. With the mask and hood it was impossible to tell how old the girl was, but she didn’t look older than fifteen.

  The only reason he hadn’t told her to go home and play with her dolls right then was her eyes. Those gray eyes had the hardened look of the previous Midnight Spectre. They were the eyes of someone who had stared into the dark abyss of human misery and become determined to do something about it.

  Their relationship had been cordial since that first meeting, though Howe always had to resist the urge to see her as a little girl. It didn’t help when she brought that other girl along, the one who called herself the Outcast. The way the girls bickered made Howe think of his children arguing in the backseat during a long drive. He wondered at first why Midnight Spectre had thrown in with the other girl. Then he saw the looks they gave each other and realized they were in love. Howe didn’t consider himself a homophobe by any stretch, but the idea of these two costumed vigilantes being a couple gave him a cold chill.

  He’d seen a lot less of the Outcast in the last three years. He had wondered if they’d had a falling out, but the Outcast still showed up a few times a year. In the end he had decided she must have branched out to another city, where she could be the hero with top billing. Not that such heroes were needed now.

  “Good evening, Captain,” Midnight Spectre hissed practically into his ear to shake him from his thoughts.

  He whirled around to find her crouched on the edge of the roof as if she were a stone gargoyle. “I got your message,” he said, trying not to let his surprise show. He glanced around but saw no sign of the Outcast. “What’s so urgent?”

  “There’s been a murder,” the girl said.

  “Who?”

  “You.” This sentence was punctuated by a sharp pain in Howe’s throat. He put a hand to his throat to find a shuriken embedded in it. He staggered back a step, his hand going to his gun. Before he could lift it from the holster, his entire body went slack.

  He collapsed onto the rooftop, his eyes looking up at the stars again. Midnight Spectre’s face filled his vision. There was something different about her eyes, a wild, almost feral gleam in them. He’d seen that wicked smile before—on Clownface the few times they’d tangled; it was a smile of pure evil.

  Howe tried to say something, but he couldn’t get out any words. His vision began to fade. “It won’t be much longer,” she cooed. “There’s enough poison on that throwing star to take down an elephant.”

  He wanted to ask her why she was doing this, but he still couldn’t make any sound. In his last conscious moments he focused on Polaris and wondered how long until he was up there, with the stars.

  Part 1

  Chapter 1

  Starla Marsh stared into the mirror and tried not to cry. She didn’t want to ruin the makeup Ma had spent an hour applying to Starla’s face. As if sensing her thoughts, Ma said, “Don’t worry, honey, you’ll have the veil on most of the time.”

  Starla nodded. She picked up the silver tiara with its attached lace veil. Ma helped her to position the tiara atop her helmet of black hair so the veil fell straight down. Since Starla’s hair was too short to do much with, they’d put a few white roses in it. The roses went perfectly with those studding the dress.

  She ran a hand over the dress and smiled beneath the veil. “I bet you never thought you’d get to see me in your dress.”

  “Can’t say I did, but you look beautiful in it.”

  “Thanks.”

  Whenever Ma stood beside her as she did now, it shocked Starla to realize they were the same height. The last time it had been that way was when Starla was an eleven-year-old boy named Stan Shaw. Then puberty had kicked in and Stan had sprung up like a weed—and gained the ability to fly, see in infrared, and breathe fire. Thanks to an alien weapon and later some alien chemicals Stan was now a young woman who stood only five-seven in heels.

  “It fits like a dream,” Starla said of the dress. She had been set to buy a new one until Ma surprised her with the gown she’d worn for her own wedding fifty years ago. The gown had needed very little alteration to fit Starla; to her embarrassm
ent they had to get the bosom let out so Starla could breathe without her breasts popping out.

  There came a knock on the door. Sally Bass stuck her head inside. “We’re all ready upstairs,” she said. “How are things on your end?”

  “I’m ready,” Starla said. “I think.”

  “Don’t worry, honey,” Ma said, “you’ll do fine.”

  “I hope so.”

  “There’s nothing to be nervous about.”

  “I know.”

  Nevertheless, Starla took a deep breath as she ascended the stairs from the church’s basement. Pa waited for her at the top steps. His face reddened as it always did when he saw her. He’d had a more difficult time accepting his adopted son was now his adopted daughter. Not that he’d screamed at her or thrown her out of the house or anything; it was the subtle ways like the way he blushed or earlier in the barn when he’d insisted on carrying the buckets of milk back to the house, despite that she was younger and had the strength of a hundred men.

  That was part of the reason Starla had kept her secret from her parents for over a year. Only after a clone of Stan Shaw appeared and nearly killed her did she decide it was time to come clean with them. As expected, it was a shock for them to see the son they’d raised sporting a dress and C-cup breasts. There had been the questions about surgery and if she’d always been a girl trapped in a man’s body. At great length she explained the change had never been her idea but that after a year she’d come to accept it.

  She had to admit there were some perks to being a woman, like Pa getting the chance to walk her down the aisle. He showed the same cordiality as in the barn when he took her arm. Ma had them wait there so she could have the photographer snap a picture of them for posterity.

  While they waited for the organist to strike up “The Wedding March,” Starla whispered, “I know this isn’t how you thought this day would turn out—”

  “It’s all right,” Pa said. “I’m proud of you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Since we first found you in that alien ship, all we ever wanted was for you to be happy. If this fella makes you happy, that’s good enough for me.”

  With the veil down, Starla had to settle for giving her adopted father a hug. “I love you, Pa.”

  “I love you too.” The organ finally began to play. “Now come on, let’s get you up there.”

  Starla had fought the world’s most dangerous villains, some of them dozens of times, but she’d never felt butterflies like these in her stomach before. She took one step at a time, trying to glide the way Ms. Cash had taught her when she first became a woman. So focused on this, she was halfway down the aisle before she looked up.

  Billy stood at the altar, so handsome in his tuxedo that her heart ached. His old friends Dave, Gary, and Mike stood next to him as groomsmen. Across the altar was her maid of honor, Kate King, who also worked with them at the Star. Beside her were Sally and Allison Bass, two of her comrades on the Super Squad. Except Allison wasn’t supposed to be a bridesmaid; despite that she was sixteen, Allison was supposed to be the flower girl. Where was Robin? Starla glanced around the church, but didn’t see Robin Holloway or her girlfriend Melanie Amis in the rows of pews. Had something happened to them?

  There wasn’t time for that now. For now she had to stop with her father in front of the altar so he could give her away. Then she stepped up to stand next to Billy, their hands interlocking. The moment she looked into his eyes, she forgot all her other worries and focused only on him.

  She was so focused, she didn’t hear the minister ask if she promised to love and cherish Billy, not until Kate nudged her. “Oh, sorry. Yes, I do.”

  “In that case, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

  Then Billy lifted the veil and kissed her. It was a dry peck since they were in church, but never had a kiss made her so weak in the knees.

  ***

  At the reception in the VFW hall, Starla managed to pull Allison aside to ask about Robin and Melanie. The teenager’s pale face reddened a bit before she whispered, “We’re not sure about Robin. They’re saying she killed Captain Howe on the rooftop of police headquarters. We tried to get a hold of her, but she’s not responding. Melanie went out to look for her.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I should be out looking—”

  “We didn’t want to worry you before the wedding. Sally, Melanie, and I can find her and get this straightened out.”

  “She’s my friend too—”

  “We got this, Starla. You enjoy today. You’ll never get another chance for a day like this, believe me,” Allison said. No doubt Allison was thinking of when she and Sally had gotten married about fifteen years ago. Despite that she was only sixteen on the outside, Allison had been born almost forty years ago as Alan Bass. A government experiment using chemicals stolen from Starla’s Crystal Lair had made Allison into a teenager again.

  Starla took a deep breath and then nodded. “I guess you’re right. But if anything happens—”

  “You’ll be the first to know.”

  Starla went back to the head table in the VFW hall. She’d hoped her worry didn’t show, but Billy knew her too well by now. He leaned close to whisper into her ear, “Something wrong?”

  “It’s nothing. Really.”

  “If you need to go—”

  “No. I want to stay here. With you.” This went counter to her attitude of the last three years. When she had seen what her recklessness and irresponsibility had done to Allison and Elise, the misery she had caused them, she had sworn nothing like that would happen again. She promised she would wipe out crime across the world.

  She was aided in this quest by side effects from her transformation from an ordinary young woman back into Apex Girl. A combination of alien chemicals and a high dose of direct sunlight from battling her clone near the sun had strengthened her cells to the point where she was pretty much invincible. Gamma radiation, once her Achilles heel, no longer harmed her. There was still a chance she might have another weakness, but no one had found it yet. That invulnerability made it easy for her to go after criminals from the likes of Rad Geiger down to ordinary purse-snatchers.

  If there were a day where she could let this responsibility take a backseat, it had to be her wedding day. This was the day where she could be selfish so she and Billy could enjoy the start of their new lives as husband and wife. She kissed Billy on the cheek. “Let’s go cut the cake.”

  She took his hand and then followed him down from their platform to make their way over to the five-tiered cake Ma had baked. When it came time for her to shove a slice of cake into Billy’s mouth, she made sure not to use her full strength or else he would choke to death before they got to the honeymoon.

  As the reception wound down, all of the eligible women lined up to catch Starla’s bouquet. She noted how Allison tried to drag Sally into the fray but Sally steadfastly refused. Despite how young her former husband was, Sally continued to wear her wedding ring. By all accounts there was no “relationship” between Sally and Allison, but Sally seemed content to bide her time until Allison came of age.

  Perhaps to stick it to Sally, Allison joined the crowd of women who wanted to catch the bouquet. Even before she tossed it over her shoulder—careful again not to use her full strength—Starla knew who would catch it. With her superspeed, Allison yanked the bouquet out of the air before anyone else could get within a foot of it. She accepted the teasing of the older women while she glared pointedly at Sally. In the blink of an eye Sally disappeared from the hall.

  Allison, her face red again, handed the bouquet back to Starla. “I’m sorry about that. I keep telling her not to wait for me, but she won’t listen.”

  “She loves you,” Starla said.

  “I know. I just don’t want her to deny herself because of me.”

  “Come on, it’ll only be two years and then you can be the one throwing a bouquet.”

  “Maybe.”

  Starl
a put a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Maybe? Is something wrong?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it. Not on your wedding day.” Allison forced a smile to her face. “Enjoy your honeymoon. We’ll let you know if we find Robin.”

  “Sure.” Before Allison could race away at superspeed, Starla pulled her into a hug. She had to be careful again with her strength so she wouldn’t crush Allison’s ribs. “Take care of yourself—and Sally.”

  “I will.” The rest of the world thought Allison was Sally’s sidekick, but Starla knew the opposite was true. Her decade or so as a superhero gave her far more insight into crime fighting than Sally, who had been a normal woman until three years ago. “See you later.”

  Then Allison was gone and Starla returned to her husband.

  ***

  As far as anyone knew, Starla and Billy were spending their wedding night in Rockford’s only motel. In reality as soon as they were out of sight, Starla picked Billy up and started north. She didn’t like to carry Billy; she worried it emasculated him to be carted around like a passenger. In this case they didn’t have any other choice, not unless she borrowed Robin’s jet.

  “We’re almost there,” she said, feeling him shiver beneath the winter coat they’d fetched from Ma and Pa’s farm.

  “Great,” he said. “I wish I had my camera. It’s so beautiful up here.”

  There wasn’t too much to see at the moment, just fields of ice and snow. Billy appreciated the beauty of those more than she did. In part because it was his first time up here and in part because he had a photographer’s eye for natural beauty.

  “I’m sure there’s a camera at the Lair we could grab for on the way back.”

  “That would be great.”

  A steep mountain of ice came into sight. To any normal eyes or satellite cameras it didn’t look much different from the ice around it. Starla’s infrared vision allowed her to see the door carved into the ice and the identification panel that would allow her inside.