Girl Power Omnibus (Gender Swap Superhero Fiction)

by P. T. Dilloway

  “Where are we going?” Ariel asked as Killer Whale swam away from the city.

  “I’m taking you home.”

  “Home is that way.” Ariel pointed towards Pacifica.

  “We’re going to your old home. Where your mother and father first lived.”

  “Is Daddy going to be there?”

  “I doubt it.”

  Killer Whale had found the coral hut where her sister had lived years ago, but too late to ambush the queen there. She doubted anyone had taken up residency there since then, except perhaps some sea creatures. Her sister would want to keep that house unoccupied for sentimental reasons; the queen was nothing if not sentimental.

  “What’s that?” Ariel asked.

  “That’s the house where you lived when you were a tiny little baby.”

  “I lived here?” Killer Whale almost smiled at the girl’s look of revulsion; she didn’t think much of the hut either.

  Killer Whale swooped through where the front door had once been. The coral was thicker than it probably had been; it must have been a long time since anyone had bothered to trim it. “This place is gross,” Ariel said. “Why are we here?”

  “We need somewhere safe for you to stay while I look for your mother.”

  “I want Mama.”

  “I’ll get her, but I need you to stay here.” Killer Whale carried the girl down a hallway, into a tiny room that contained a pink seashell—a crib. “This is where you slept when you were a baby.”

  “Did not.”

  “Your father made that crib for you.”

  “He did?”

  “Yes,” Killer Whale said. She didn’t know this for certain, but her sister had no artistic talent while her husband had been a coral shaper; it seemed a good assumption that he had fashioned the pink seashell crib.

  She set the little girl beside the crib. “You stay here, where it’s safe. I’ll bring your mother to you soon.”

  “I don’t wanna stay here alone.”

  Killer Whale sighed. She didn’t have time for this. She floated down to look the toddler in the eye. “I need you to be a big girl and wait here. Can you do that?”

  The girl had her thumb in her mouth, so she merely nodded. Killer Whale forced herself to smile. “Very good. I will return soon with your mother. Then we can all go home. Understand?”

  “Yes.”

  Killer Whale patted the girl’s head. As she swam away, she was surprised to realize she hoped to return.

  ***

  Starla could barely move with all the chains they had around her wrists and ankles. Back on Earth it would have been easy enough for her to carry so much weight, but after days or weeks or months away from the Earth’s sun, she had shriveled up into Anorexic Girl again. But it seemed the Peacekeepers weren’t going to take any chances.

  They led her through a corridor with the vaulted ceilings of an old cathedral. Aliens of all descriptions lined the corridors. Some of them held devices Starla figured must be high-tech cameras. Her case must be like O.J. Simpson or Casey Anthony to the rest of the galaxy. She smiled a little as she thought of an alien Nancy Grace whipping the galactic public into a frenzy about the evil Kor-Gan girl.

  The courtroom looked like an old-style amphitheater with rings of seats looking down on a central stage. The guards shoved Starla down the aisles, onto a metal platform. They led her to a spot exactly in the center. The weight of the chains tripled as they clamped down onto what must be a magnetic floor. Starla dropped to her knees under the weight, which was probably what they wanted so everyone could see the terrible Kor-Gan humiliated.

  Her counsel buzzed in front of her face. T’Kell squeaked, “Your trial will begin soon. It should not take long.”

  “These Elders already have their minds made up, right? All this—” she jingled the chains for emphasis, “is just for show.”

  “Yes. It will be good for everyone to see the Kor-Gan menace is finally wiped out.”

  “I’m not a menace! I didn’t even know about you Peacekeepers until you abducted me.”

  “That is irrelevant.”

  “Everything is irrelevant,” Starla growled. T’Kell didn’t bother to respond.

  The seats were all filled in the amphitheater when Sulfam strutted onto the stage. He made a point of clacking his claws in front of her face. Some in the crowd laughed at this. Give them a good show, she thought.

  There was a rumble like trumpets that brought everyone except Starla to their feet. She tried not to laugh as a mirrorball descended from the sky. Unlike a traditional mirrorball, it flashed a variety of colors. “Your Elders are a disco ball?” she said to T’Kell.

  “Silence!” Sulfam snapped. He raised a claw as if to slap her.

  The mirrorball pulsed with colors. Words came out through the button on Starla’s collar. “Gor-Bul of Kor-Gan, you have been found guilty of genocide on worlds too numerous to mention. Have you anything to say in your defense?”

  Starla summoned every ounce of strength to rise to her feet. It felt silly to address a disco ball, but she managed to keep a straight face as she said, “You claim to be Peacekeepers. You claim to serve justice. Yet you tore me away from the world whose people I had been protecting. You tore me away from my husband on our wedding night to bring me here for charges I knew nothing about. If this is what you consider justice, I want no part of it.” For emphasis she spat on the floor. She wasn’t sure they would understand the gesture, but when Sulfam hit her across the face, she supposed they got the gist of it.

  Starla collapsed to her knees again. She looked up at Sulfam and grinned. “Hitting an unarmed woman wrapped in chains. You must be a big man on your world.”

  “I tire of your insolence.”

  “Then go ahead and kill me. That’s what your Elders are going to do anyway.”

  “These disruptions are pointless, Gor-Bul,” T’Kell said. “They will gain you nothing.”

  “I want all of you to see us Earth girls have some fight in us.”

  She tried to struggle to her feet, but the pull on the chains became greater, until she lay flat on the floor. It was an effort to raise her head enough to look up at the Elders. “You’re murdering an innocent woman! All of you!”

  The amphitheater buzzed as the aliens chattered in numerous languages. The mirrorball brightened until Starla had to close her eyes. “Silence!” the Elders roared. “We have heard enough. Since the Kor-Gan has shown no remorse for the crimes of her people, there can only be one verdict: death. Tomorrow morning you will be loaded onto an escape rocket that will carry you towards this system’s star. As you slowly burn to death, we hope you will finally see the error of your ways.”

  “Murderers!” Starla shrieked at the Elders as they rose into the air again. The amphitheater continued to buzz with activity. A trio of guards tromped down to take Starla into custody. They dragged her along the stairs, moving too quickly for her to try to get to her feet. As she was dragged up the stairs, aliens jeered her in a variety of tongues.

  It was worse out in the corridors. Some of the spectators had come armed with rotten fruit or vegetables. Starla had no idea what the foods were, but they all smelled horrible. Purple mush ended up in her face; it at least blinded her from seeing what else they were throwing at her.

  The guards didn’t bother to wash her off before they tossed her back in her cell. They did take the chains off, which allowed her to wipe impotently at the mess covering her. With a sigh she collapsed onto her bed to wait for the end.

  ***

  They let Kila watch the mockery they called a “trial.” She smiled when Starla rose to her feet against the chains to challenge the Elders. No one in the galaxy dared to speak to the Elders that way. Leave it to a coarse woman from Earth to do so.

  As the masses pelted Starla with rotten food, Commander Sulfam appeared in Kila’s cell. “It would have gone no differently had you been there. This was already preordained.”

  “Why did you tamper with the archives?
What secret is so important that you and the Elders would go to this much trouble?”

  “I tampered with nothing. You are the one who dared to do so.”

  Kila shook her head. It seemed Sulfam would stick to his story until the bitter end. “You know that is not true. I had nothing to gain by such an action. The question is what you and the Elders gained with this deception.”

  “You will not get me to incriminate myself, fool.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “I only wanted to make sure you knew what awaited you. You will be tried and executed in three days. That way you can watch the Kor-Gan die. Do you think in her last moments she will scream your name for having failed her so utterly?”

  Kila decided to take a page from Starla’s book and spit in Sulfam’s face. Such insubordination would have landed her in a cell before, but now she had nothing to lose. Sulfam shook the spit from his face. He raised a claw, but did not hit her. “Your time is coming, Kila. Spend these last days deciding on your final words.”

  He strutted out of the cell, leaving Kila alone. She leaned back against the wall. He was right, of course. There was nothing she could do, not in here. She would be forced to watch Starla, an innocent woman, die in such a horrible, barbaric fashion. What would they do to her? Traditionally a Peacekeeper found guilty of a crime would be disemboweled, left to suffer for hours until he, she, or it finally passed. That hadn’t happened in a hundred years. Perhaps if she degraded herself enough they might find some gentler way to kill her.

  The cell door opened again. Had Sulfam forgotten an insult he wanted to deliver before she died? Then she heard Slong say, “Hurry up, young one. We don’t have much time.”

  She got to her feet to find him waiting outside the door, his bulk too great to fit through it. The guards lay at his feet, both of them unconscious. “What are you doing here?” Kila asked.

  “I’ll explain later. Let’s go.”

  She stayed behind Slong as he stomped out of the detention area. Somehow he’d managed to incapacitate all the guards on this block without anyone finding out. “Did you use a sleep spell?”

  “Of course. How else could I fetch you with so little noise?”

  He turned around, holding out a staff—her staff. “This belongs to you, little one. Now let us go.”

  Kila touched a button on the staff to generate a bubble around her. Slong did the same with his staff. They coasted easily out of the detention area, into the night sky. The spell Slong had used would wear off in a few minutes, which didn’t give them much time.

  “Where are we going? To the ships?”

  “No. There is one who knows the truth.”

  “Commander Sulfam won’t confess.”

  “Not him. Someone else.”

  “Who?”

  “You’ll see soon enough.”

  They descended into a barracks. Kila thought to tell Slong the foolishness of this maneuver, as everyone in the barracks would know she was a fugitive. She decided it wouldn’t do any good, not with Slong. She remained silent as they coasted up to the top level.

  They stopped at a set of two blue doors. Slong held out his staff at the knobs. A bolt of lightning leaped from the staff to hit the lock. He could have easily battered the door down, but that would make far more noise. Even with the lightning it required a good hard shove for the doors to open.

  As soon as she saw the fully-carpeted room and heard the snores like the roar of some great beast, she knew where they were. It came as no surprise then to find Taub lying on an enormous cushion. She didn’t have to bother with stealth given the loudness of his snores. She had only to walk up to him and then hold her staff to Taub’s neck.

  He snuffled and then looked up. “Now you will tell us the truth,” Kila said.

  Chapter 23

  The wings of the jetcopter weren’t designed to handle much weight. Melanie hoped they could handle the four canisters she and Tonya had rigged up. “Ever done much crop dusting?” Tonya asked.

  “I guess now is as good as any time to start.”

  “Good luck, boss. Give me a holler if you need any help.”

  “You too.”

  “Sure thing.” Tonya pressed close to Melanie. She whispered into Melanie’s ear, “If you tell anyone about what we discussed in the lab I’ll kill you.”

  “Your secret is safe with me.”

  “See you around.” Tonya settled her helmet onto her head. She took a few steps before she took off. Her flight path was a little more awkward than usual, owing to the tank strapped to her back. She had rigged her gun to distribute the antidote in aerosol form like the canisters on the jetcopter.

  Melanie wished Paul were with her so he could help to pilot the craft. She took a deep breath as she activated the rotor. It would be better to use the helicopter mode; that way she could go slower to ensure better coverage.

  The jetcopter lifted off into the air. Melanie edged it forward slowly, still a little nervous at flying this way, especially by herself. As far as she could tell the canisters were still secure on the wings. She hoped they would stay put until they were no longer needed.

  After she had gotten far enough from the hospital, Melanie reached down to her belt to press a button. This triggered four tiny shaped charges, one on each of the canisters. This had been the only way they could come up with on short notice to allow Melanie to trigger the release from the cockpit while in flight.

  She tried to keep the jetcopter steady while she slowly moved ahead. She wanted to cover as much ground as possible, but she also needed to be thorough. After this maybe she should go to the airport to see if there were an actual cropduster around to make things a little easier. The only problem would be that she’d never flown a biplane before, not even in a simulator.

  There was no way for her to tell when the canisters ran out of antidote. She and Tonya had run through some calculations in the lab. Based on how much the canisters contained and how fast she was going, she had an estimate of when it would run out. That was the best she could do at this point.

  She had just about reached the empty point when the jetcopter’s control panel indicated she had a phone call. What the hell? Only one person knew how to contact Midnight Spectre’s vehicles by cell phone—

  A little redheaded girl appeared on the screen. She looked so adorable with her hair braided and face painted up like a tiger. “Hi Mewanie!” the girl chirped.

  “Robin?”

  “Miss Cwownface wanted me to ask you if you’d come pway with me and my fwiends.”

  “Clownface?” Melanie bent towards the screen. When she squinted, she noticed how purple Robin’s eyes looked. She had been hit with the clown juice along with the rest of Redoubt City.

  “Pwease come pway with me. I miss you.”

  Melanie knew this was a trap. She didn’t see much of an alternative at the moment. Clownface would surely kill Robin if she didn’t get what she wanted. Melanie took a deep breath and then smiled. “Of course I’ll come play with you, sweetheart. Where are you?”

  “I’m on Fingow Iswand.”

  “All right. I’ll be there real soon.”

  “Miss Cwonface says you gotta be here in ten minutes.”

  “No problem, sweetie. You stay right there.”

  “OK. Bye-bye!” Robin chirped. She waved before the screen went blank.

  Melanie punched another button on the console. “What’s up, boss?” Tonya asked.

  “We got a problem,” Melanie said.

  ***

  It had taken Hitter a considerable amount of time and money, but he finally had his quarry in sight. They all conveniently sat together at the same table at an Albanian restaurant. Hitter watched them from a table across the restaurant while he pretended to eat a plate of goulash—the only thing on the menu that sounded even vaguely familiar.

  Most jobs he preferred to operate at a distance if at all possible. An assassin was supposed to work silently, without leaving a bunch of witnesses in
his wake. Some jobs did require working up close to lure the prey into the web. This wasn’t that kind of job. He could have easily infiltrated the kitchen to poison their food. He could have stayed out in the parking lot to plant a bomb on their car. He could have perched himself on another building to pick them off as they exited the restaurant.

  He didn’t because this job was personal. This one he wanted them to know who was responsible before he did them in. So he nibbled at the goulash and watched them enjoy their last meal.

  After dessert was brought to their table, Hitter finally got up. He slung his overcoat over his right hand. It was easy enough for him to slip his hand into the pocket for the .357 he’d bought for this job. There was no silencer on the gun; he wanted everyone in a five-block radius to hear this.

  He stomped up to their table. There were four of them, all dressed in tracksuits and white T-shirts. Far too much jewelry dangled around their necks. One of them looked up at him. “You want something kid?”

  Hitter let the jacket slide off his arm to reveal the .357. “I want to see the four of you in Hell,” he growled.

  “Whoa, slow down, kid. What are you talking about?”

  “Danielle Giordano,” he said, his voice cracking. The gun felt heavier in his hand.

  “Who’s that?”

  “My sister,” he squeaked. The gun trembled in his hand. The room seemed bigger than it had been when he first came over to the table. He was losing it. He had better do this quick, before he lost his nerve. “You scumbags killed her.”

  “Come on, sweetheart, put the gun down why don’t you?”

  “No!” he screeched in a soprano voice. A tress of hair drooped over his left eye. When he tried to brush it back, he saw the sleeve of his jacket overlapped his hand by several inches. He was at eye level now with the murderers despite that they were still seated. The gun became impossibly heavy; it tumbled from his hand, onto the floor.

  He bent down to grab it, but the gun was no longer there. He saw only a baby doll with curly blond hair. When he straightened, he was shorter than the chairs the men sat in. One of them reached down to pick up the doll. “Here you go, princess,” he said.