by Sarah Kuhn
“Hmm.” Leah regarded me keenly. “That doesn’t seem totally in line with your code. I mean. Implanting whole, entire thoughts in people? It’s a slippery slope, is it not? Like, we’ve talked about you trying to set me up and how much care you put into that thought process. How even if you could make someone do something they didn’t want to—which it sounds like you might be gaining the capability to actually do—you wouldn’t. Isn’t suppressing someone’s free will veering into the bad guy side of things?”
“I can handle it,” I said. “And it’s still for the greater good. In this case, the greater good of Nicole leaving us alone and not ruining the really good mood I’m in.”
“Okay,” Leah said, her brow furrowing. “But—”
“I’m pretty sure she actually wanted to leave anyway,” I said. “She was fed up with me, too.”
Leah’s brow furrowed further. “Buuuuut—”
She was interrupted by the door chime and Sam loping in. He’d clearly just gotten off work—still in his mechanic’s coveralls, a swipe of grease on his neck. In short, he looked just as mussed and dirty-hot as he had in my fantasy the night before, and I surreptitiously brushed a hand against my mouth to make sure I wasn’t drooling. I leaned against the counter, trying to look casual.
“Visiting us right after work?” Leah said to him. “What gives? Usually you like to go home and wash all that engine grease off first.”
“Usually, yes,” he said, giving us an easy grin as he strolled up to the counter and scratched Pancake behind the ears. “But I got off a little early and thought I’d pop in, make sure you guys are doing okay. I didn’t see the usual onslaught of texts this morning, so I got concerned.”
“Hmm, our group chain has been a bit sparse,” Leah said, glancing at her phone.
My face flushed. I had a feeling he didn’t mean our group text chain.
“That it has,” he said. He leaned against the counter and shifted to the side a bit so that our elbows brushed. I did my best to remain perfectly still; I wasn’t about to move and let him win this round. But goddamn, he smelled good. And it was igniting my imagination all over again. Had he purposefully showed up in his calendar outfit because he somehow knew what it did to me? I shuffled to the side a fraction of an inch, so our entire arms were brushing each other now.
“We’re fine, Sammy,” Leah said. “Just busy bookstoring. And Bebe has to go to Oakland later for a bona fide superhero mission.”
“As long as I don’t have to drive her again,” Sam said. “I’m gonna have to start charging you for gas money, Beatrice.”
“You should consider it an honor to assist in official superheroing business,” I said, giving him an imperious look that would have made Aveda proud. “But no, I don’t need you and your car today. Evie, Aveda, and I are going together. It’s a pretty big deal mission.”
“Sounds like it,” he said, giving me an amused smile. “You’ll have to tell me all about it later.”
And then he shifted just a little bit closer and now our arms were basically pressed up against each other and he smelled so good—
“Oh, god.” We both turned to see Leah frowning at us. Weirdly enough, Pancake seemed to be frowning at us as well, his one tiny eye narrowed. “I can’t believe this,” Leah continued, rolling her eyes skyward. “I mean, I guess I can, I just didn’t realize we’d already gotten here. You guys are totally fucking.”
“What!” I screeched, just as Sam yelped, “Not yet!”
Leah burst out laughing, then pointed an accusatory finger at us, jabbing the air with every syllable. “Ri. Dic. U. Lous.”
“We are not,” I said, indignant. “I mean, we’re just . . . just . . .”
“Flirting? Sexting?” Leah arched an eyebrow. “Guys, I don’t care. I just need you to understand that I will make fun of you for however long this lasts. Mercilessly.” Pancake snorted in agreement.
I opened my mouth to retort, but was interrupted by my phone buzzing against my hip. I whipped it out and looked at the screen. Nate.
“What’s up, bro-in-law?” I chirped, pressing the phone to my ear. “I cc-ed you on the notes I sent Kai, did you get them? I may have time later to discuss in-depth if you need, but I have an important official superheroing mission this afternoon and that has to be my top priority—”
“I got the email, Bea,” Nate said. I could hear a hint of a smile in his voice. “Thank you, that was great work. And I am aware of your mission later. But I was actually calling to see if you could meet me down at Pussy Queen for a couple of hours. I have done some deep analysis of the scans from It’s Lit and the Wave Organ and I believe Scott and I have devised a method for you to attempt to connect with the Otherworld again. In a safe and secure way.”
“Really?!” I had so many questions. But of course the most pressing was, “Is this okay with Evie?”
“Do you think I would be speaking to you if it wasn’t?”
I laughed. “Point.”
“So are you able to meet me?” Nate said. “I do not want to interfere with your bookstore duties, and I want to make sure I am being respectful of your boundaries—”
“You’re doing great,” I said. “You’re always super respectful. I’ll see you down at the PQP in fifteen?”
I grinned to myself as we hung up, giddiness bubbling through my heart. Two official superheroing missions in less than twenty-four hours?
This day just kept getting better.
* * *
“Beatrice Tanaka.” The Maisy Kane who greeted me today was much different than the chattery gossip who’d welcomed Aveda and me into her store a couple days ago. Now she was subdued, her eyes cast downward, and referring to me in an uncharacteristically formal manner rather than trying to be all chummy.
“Hi, Maisy,” I said, cocking an eyebrow as I entered Pussy Queen. “Are you feeling all right?”
“Delightful as always,” she said, but her withdrawn expression seemed to indicate the opposite.
“Bea!” Shruti bustled up to me, beaming. Her long, glorious hair was done up in a complicated braided formation and she was wearing a silky pink sheath with rosettes along the neckline. She tucked her arm through mine and ushered me toward the portal, where I saw Nate and Scott already conferring.
“What’s with her?” I murmured, nodding toward Maisy. She was already shuffling across the room, away from us.
“Ah.” A slight smile played over Shruti’s lips. “I believe she’s trying to avoid interacting with you. Aveda gave her an earful about leaving you out of her, hmm, how did she put it? ‘Scandal-mongering internet trash’? Something along those lines.”
“Another earful? ’Cause she already ranted at Maisy about that—you know, when we were visiting the other day?”
“Yes, there was definitely an additional phone call involved,” Shruti said, squeezing my arm. “Maisy’s been sulking about it ever since, because Aveda told her she could not, under any circumstances, mention you at all. I heard she was quite formidable—she can go a little Darth Vader, no? She doesn’t even need the mask.”
“That’s why we love her,” I agreed. “Though I don’t know that she needed to turn all that Dark Side mojo on Maisy. I guess that’s why Maisy hasn’t written anything about me joining the team?”
“You sound disappointed,” Shruti said. “Do you want to be on Maisy’s blog?” She gave me a sly smile. “Because I think Evie and Aveda would be perfectly happy if that little piece of the internet disappeared forever.”
Hmm. I couldn’t deny the disappointment stabbing at me. Why was I so twitchy and out of sorts about not having my photo and some kind of insulting “problem child” headline plastered all over the blog that had caused my superheroing cohorts so much grief?
Maybe because that kind of attention would mean I was a real superhero, not some irritating pretender? Or because it would get
Nemesis Nicole to shut up and stop looking at me with her special brand of complete disdain? Or because I just needed attention, period? (That probably would have been Evie’s guess.)
“Shruti,” I said, “you don’t get as much play on Maisy’s blog, either—I mean, except when you join Team Tanaka/Jupiter on a mission, she pretty much leaves you out of it. Does that ever bother you?”
“No,” she said, giving me her brilliant smile. “I don’t need Maisy’s assessment of my skills in that arena—and anyway, I adore being a part-time superheroine, at least for now. I don’t want to dedicate my whole life to it, like Evie and Aveda do. I’d miss scouring estate sales and flea markets for my vintage babies and matching them up with my wonderfully fashionable customers—that’s my true passion. But I love helping the girls out whenever they need me.” She studied me as we came to a stop near the portal. “There’s more than one way to make use of your gifts, Bea, remember that. You have to find what makes you happy.”
“Right. Well. Luckily I know what that is already.” I gestured to my sparkly costume. “I do want to be a full-time superheroine.” And hopefully I’d eventually get recognized for it—even if it came with an unflattering Maisy blog headline.
“Then you’re already well on your way,” Shruti said giving me another arm squeeze coupled with a brilliant smile. I flushed. Okay, so maybe I still had a little crush on her.
“Bug,” Scott said, beckoning me closer to the portal. “So glad you could join us.”
“Yeah, what’s the deal?” I clapped my hands together, giddiness welling in my chest again. “I get to visit the Otherworld?”
“Oh my goodness, Bea,” Shruti murmured. “The boys filled me in and this sounds like transporting to another planet! Very Star Trek.”
“We are going to try something,” Nate said. “First, let me bring you up to speed on my research. I have completed my in-depth analyses of the scan data from the bookstore and the Wave Organ. The bookstore scans we did after the incident in the bathroom did not pick up any supernatural energy—but it seems obvious that something was present, at least for a moment. The energy at the Organ, meanwhile, still appears to be from a different source than the portal here. But my further analysis revealed . . .” He hesitated, frowning at the portal as if willing it to give up its secrets. “. . . the atmosphere around the energy at the Organ has that same heaviness around it as the energy here at Pussy Queen. I found traces of the same gibberish code, lurking just beneath our initial readings.”
“Whoa,” I said. “So the recent supernatural happenings have something in common with the portal, even if they didn’t originate here?”
“That seems logical,” Scott said. “And that got me and Nate thinking: what if I used the spell I did in the bathroom yesterday to try to access the energy here at Pussy Queen? Even if it’s not from the same source, that heaviness we’re picking up might be able to tell us something about the recent incidents.”
“Right,” I said, turning the idea over in my mind. “Unlike at the bookstore, we know this energy will be present—because thanks to the portal, it’s always present. And unlike the Wave Organ, we know it’s dormant—no chance of giant stone monsters coming to life and stomping us to death.”
“That’s the hope,” Nate said, nodding.
“When I do the spell, I’m going to try to actually direct the energy to you this time,” Scott said. “If it connects to you—”
“Then I’ll be back in the Otherworld!” I marveled. “And I can find Mom again. Awesome.”
“Scott has also worked out a spell that will provide you with protection,” Nate said. “An invisible force that will wrap around your body—”
“The supernatural spacesuit!” I exclaimed.
“So Star Trek!” Shruti crowed, doing a fist-pump.
“Are you sure this part is Evie-approved?” I said.
“It is,” Scott said, grinning at me. “I don’t want to get murdered.”
“None of us do,” Nate said, his mouth quirking into a half-smile. “Part of Scott’s spell involves him remaining connected to you at all times—if anything goes wrong, he’ll pull you out immediately. I will use my enhanced vision to keep track of your vital signs. And Shruti is going to assist us as well.”
“I’m going to use my hair to hold both you and Scott in place,” Shruti said, beaming. “To anchor you here. True, it sounds like your consciousness did the traveling to the Otherworld, not your physical body—but we believe extra grounding of your physical body will bolster the effects of Scott’s supernatural spacesuit.”
This was all so cool, I could barely stand it.
“I’m so ready,” I said. “Spacesuit me up, Scott!”
“Take my hand,” Scott said, reaching out to me. “You should feel a slight tingle. Then Shruti will use her hair to secure us. Finally, I’ll reach out to the energy and see if I can direct it your way.”
I nodded, took his hand, and held tight. Then I closed my eyes. I don’t know why; it just felt like the right thing to do.
The tingle came first—a light touch, like feathers brushing against my skin. I felt Shruti’s hair wrapping around my torso and legs, another layer on top of the feathers, cocooning me. My head got light, and I swayed to the side a bit, vertigo overtaking me. But Shruti’s hair kept me upright and in place. Scott’s palm pressed against mine: a grounding force, keeping me tethered to the world.
I braced myself for the WHOOM, for the gust of wind blasting through my ears, but it didn’t come. Instead, I suddenly felt weightless. Floaty. The ground underneath my feet disappeared, and I couldn’t sense Shruti’s hair pressing against me anymore. All I felt was Scott’s hand, still firmly clasping mine.
I opened my eyes.
I expected the starless expanse again, but that wasn’t what I saw at all. Actually, it looked like I was still in Pussy Queen. I saw Nate standing over the glittery black portal, studying me intently, trying to hide his worry. I saw Shruti off to my left-hand side, her beautiful hair flowing outward to wrap around me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Maisy, fussing with one of her colorful underwear displays.
For a moment, disappointment roiled through me—was nothing happening? Were we just standing here in this extremely elaborate supernatural set-up, looking like fools?
But . . . no. Something was different.
For one thing, the room was eerily silent. I couldn’t hear Maisy’s fussing or any of the other little sounds that are the basic fabric of everyday life. For another . . . I squinted. There was a weird veil over my vision, casting a gray-ish shadow on my surroundings. It looked like a classic Bay Area fog had somehow descended over Pussy Queen.
I reached out with my free hand to see if I could touch this mysterious veil. My fingertips brushed against a surface that was soft, velvety. I tried tapping my foot and that same velvet texture poked through the hole in my shoe, brushing against my exposed skin. I opened my mouth and tried calling for Mom. But nothing came out. I tried again.
Mom? Mom?! Are you there?
Still no sound. It was extremely disconcerting—trying to scream, feeling the exertion in my chest, but hearing nothing.
My heart rate ratcheted upward and panic skittered through my gut as I doubled down on my efforts, trying to scream with all my might. The creepy silence felt like it was wrapping around me, muzzling me somehow.
I tried reaching out with my mind, tried to call out for her in my head, but all I got back was silence.
Why couldn’t she hear me? She had to hear me. This was my chance and I had to find her, I had to save her, I had to . . . had to . . .
“Bea!”
It all happened so fast. Scott’s voice was in my ear, breaking the silence. Then everything went black, and I blinked once, twice. When I opened my eyes again, the veil had dissolved and I was back in regular ol’ Pussy Queen, Nate and Shruti and Scott
clustered around me. Shruti’s hair was back to its normal length, no longer holding me in place.
“Why did you pull me out?” I protested, dropping Scott’s hand. I frowned at him. “I was getting somewhere—I think maybe I was in the Otherworld again, but it was different somehow. I was trying to find her, I know I could have found her, but . . .”
“Your heart rate was elevated. Dangerously so,” Nate said, resting his hands on my shoulders. “And some of your other vitals were cause for alarm. We couldn’t risk it.”
“We can’t lose you on one of your first away missions,” Shruti said, patting my arm. She smiled, but her eyes were lit with concern. “You’re no redshirt.”
“What did you see?” Scott asked.
I managed to push aside my irritation long enough to describe my brief adventure. But my mind was still on Mom.
“So you reached out and touched things this time instead of floating in the air,” Nate mused. “But your physical body was still here in Pussy Queen—did you feel like you did in the bookstore, like it was merely your consciousness that traveled to the Otherworld?”
“Actually . . .” I forced myself to stop dwelling on my failure to find my mother and focused on his query. “It did feel like I was actually there, body and all. It was like I was between worlds, in a way. Like I’d jumped sideways into the top layer of another world, and I could still see this one . . . Does this make any sense at all?” I shook my head and tapped my foot on the ground, trying to put the right words together. The cold tile of Pussy Queen brushed against the ball of my foot, that spot on my shoe with the stupid hole, the hole that just kept getting bigger and bigger and bringing friends with it—
Wait.
Sometimes I have these weird moments where a bunch of random factoids connect in my brain and everything lights up. It’s like those times when I finally get a gadget I’m tinkering with to work perfectly.
“Guys,” I said, the realization forming slowly but surely. “I’ve got a theory. This is just like my shoe.”