by C. B. Lee
The basement in the Trans’ home has always been their domain, where they hang out after school and eat junk food and lounge about and have movie marathons. Jess decorated it with posters of The Hay Hays, her favorite band, which Bells admits to liking too, however cheesy their music is, and of the cast members of Vindicated. There are dozens of holos of Jess and Emma and Bells together, and he’s pleased to see new holos of Jess and Abby giggling and laughing with their MonRobots.
“This meeting is coming to order!” Emma bangs the gavel on the table. Where did she get a gavel?
Emma beams at them and asks for team name suggestions. Bells looks at Jess, who looks at Abby, who looks back at Bells, and the three of them stare at Emma as she rattles off possible team names, ending with, “And my favorite, the Sidekick Squad.”
Abby raises her hand. “I’m not a sidekick. I don’t think any of us are.”
Emma laughs. “I know we aren’t; it’s ironic.” She points at the title and nods enthusiastically. “It’s funny. Like we’re owning it, because some people would call us sidekicks, but we’re not.”
“I like it!” pipes up a voice from the door. Brendan carries in a tray of what looks like the inner workings of many different devices. Brendan sets up a desktop projector and hooks up, not a DED, but a large, square console.
“Wait, what’s Shorty doing here?” Emma asks.
“I’m part of the Sidekick Squad too!” Brendan doesn’t look up from his strange-looking console. “I organized this meeting—”
“Uh uh, no kid brothers,” Emma starts. “When did you even—”
“He figured it out.” Jess shrugs.
Hands on her hips, Emma glares at Brendan. “You didn’t organize this; I did. You just complained about how insecure our communications were. And your huge ‘secret to be disclosed location’ was so obvious—”
“Right, like you’re so great at running a covert operation, talking openly in messages—”
Jess sighs. “Look, you know Brendan’s a genius. He’s a brilliant engineer, not to mention a bunch of other things.”
“Explosions, Jess—” Emma folds her arms together.
“I don’t think he’s made anything explode by accident in the last year,” Bells says, which earns him a pleased smile from Brendan.
“If anything explodes, that’s on purpose,” Brendan says, blushing. He nudges aside the main projector with Emma’s datachip in it and gets to work on an entirely new system. His hands fly as he sets up a desktop projector and an old-school keyboard, which has actual buttons.
Abby chuckles. “Neat.”
“I like the clickety-clack noise they make,” Brendan says.
“Yeah, totally vintage,” Abby says. “Not as convenient as typing on a projector-board, but very cool. Your little bro’s got style, Jess.”
The holo projector gleams to life, and a cool blue light illuminates a stylized text that reads: Sidekick Squad. The words hover above the projector.
Brendan beams. “See? I organized too.”
Abby, Jess, and Bells groan in unison.
“We don’t need a name!” Bells says. “This is just… a group. A secret group that’s dedicated to—”
“Even though our parents say we should just focus on school, we can definitely contribute—” Brendan butts in.
“They don’t know everything,” Jess says. “I mean, my mom says they’re taking care of it, but I haven’t seen them do anything other than hang out with your mom and eat. I’m kinda surprised at how well my parents get on with your mom, considering they were sworn enemies.”
Bells chuckles. “That would make a hilarious story: Smasher and Shockwave now best friends with Mistress Mischief! Putting their famed rivalry finally to rest, the dynamic duo sets their sights on a new goal: brunch.”
Abby laughs. “I think they just like having friends they can talk with about meta-human stuff. They already have in-jokes. Something about the giant silver cup that they kept stealing from each other. Last week I think my mom asked your mom how to make dumplings, because she made some for me.”
“But the rivalry was all fake, though, right?” Bells asked. “I mean, it’s not that weird that they would become fast friends.”
“Plus, they have a united goal: finding Abby’s dad and…”
Emma coughs and taps the gavel lightly on the side of the coffee table-slash-holo projector. “Okay, speaking of goals, I’ve called the meeting to order. Present, we have—”
“Oh, oh, I’ve got it,” Brendan says. “I hope you guys like it.” He swipes his hand on his control pad. Sidekick Squad disappears and new lines of text appear, hovering in front of them like a movie title.
The room erupts into a chaos of noise.
“Mischief Girl? That’s so derivative, and I don’t want to have the same name as my parents!”
“Why does Brendan get to name us anyway?” asks Bells.
“Compass?” Jess says.
“The Pretentious Chameleon, haha, thanks, you remembered that.”
“Compass, really?”
“Wait, who’s Mastermind?” Abby wants to know.
“That would be me,” Emma says smugly. “Because I’m the brains of this outfit.”
Brendan coughs.
Emma knocks his shoulder with hers. “Look, I don’t deny that you’re brilliant and a genius, but I am clearly the mastermind of this operation. I came up with the name for the team and I’ve got the whole big-picture thing going on—”
“I’m Mastermind!” Brendan says.
“You are fourteen.” Emma sticks her tongue out at him.
“Compass sounds ridiculous, Bren-Bren,” Jess says, frowning.
“I think it sounds cool,” Abby says. “Think of how it would look on your own comic book.”
Jess leans back and scrunches up her face.
“Well, if I’m not Mastermind, where’s my name?” Emma asks pointedly.
Brendan fidgets, tugging at his collar. “Uh, I didn’t think you would want a codename, since you know—”
“I know what?” Emma says icily.
“Everyone on this team is important,” Jess says, leveling Brendan with a look. “Powers aren’t what make us heroes.”
“Yeah, and you don’t—” Emma starts.
Jess turns The Look at Emma. “Brendan is on this team too. He made a mistake.”
“I’m sorry,” Brendan says, looking at his feet.
Abby takes the keyboard from him. “Emma, you’re Mastermind.” She types quickly, and Mischief Girl is erased. She types Abby instead, and then after Mastermind, Compass, and The Pretentious Chameleon, she adds: Shortstack.
“Hey!” Brendan crosses his arms.
“You’re the shortest and the youngest,” Abby says. “You don’t get to complain about the names, since you thought Emma wouldn’t want one.”
“Okay, can we start now?” Emma asks, rolling her eyes.
“All right, let’s go.”
“Okay, today’s agenda. Locating Phillip Monroe, also known as Master Mischief, also known as Abby’s dad.”
Brendan taps at his control pad and a number of documents and images of Master Mischief and Phillip are projected into the air, looking larger than life. With Abby sitting behind the profile of her father, it’s easy to see the resemblance: the same heavy eyebrows and strong jaw. Abby flicks her hands through the pixels and enlarges the holo of the map.
“Phillip Monroe disappeared sometime last year—sorry, I don’t know when,” Emma says apologetically.
“It’s okay,” Abby says. “It was at the end of the summer, right before school started. He and my mom told me they were going to a robotics conference in New Bright City for two weeks, and two weeks came and went and they… just stopped responding to my messages. At first, I wasn’t suspicious. Sometimes the
y would disappear for a while, especially if they were doing stuff with the United Villain’s Guild. That’s always off the grid: no connection to the Net, no communication. But they’d always give me a timeframe and contact me when they said they would.”
Jess takes Abby’s hand, interlacing their fingers.
“I was already working at Monroe Industries. I started that summer as an intern, and I wanted to do research and development, but my dad wanted me close. I think he didn’t want anyone to realize that I was his daughter.” Abby closes her eyes. “He said it was too risky, even though only my dad and a few members of the board of directors knew any details about the experimental division, let alone that Dad was actually Master Mischief.”
Brendan brings up several sketches of MonRobots.
Abby squints. “How did you… Ah. This isn’t the latest version. This one was leaked to the board before my parents disappeared. But still, this is Monroe Industries property…”
Brendan clicks his tongue. “I stole it to help find your dad. You’re welcome.”
Abby rolls her eyes, smiling. She gestures for Brendan to continue.
“So, in 2123 Monroe starts working on features for the new line of MonRobots that include home security, defense, the works,” Brendan says, going over the sketches.
Bells narrows his eyes at what look like prongs. “What would be the point of these? Defense from what?”
“Exactly,” Abby says. “The average citizen doesn’t need a MonRobot to protect their home. But the Collective has a lot of interest in this project, especially for a country that has hands in conflicts overseas and would love a new weapon.”
Something in Bells’ stomach sinks.
Abby shudders. “Okay, so my dad was against this from the start, but his partner pressured him to complete the plan. To see if it was possible. For science. But it never got developed. Or shouldn’t have. I don’t know.” She glances away. “I think when the League had my parents kidnapped they were separated. Orion had my mom in that base where she was doing her strength experiments, and my dad…”
“We’re gonna find him, Abby.” Bells can’t imagine how he’d feel if it were his parents.
The room echoes with the chorused agreement.
“So, I found out what our parents have been doing this week,” Brendan says. “They’ve been talking with Abby’s mom and have already started looking for Master Mischief.” A smug smile stretches across his face. “Mom hasn’t changed her security passwords since I was born. Okay, they’ve started a basic info search and talked to people in their networks of heroes and villains. They haven’t asked me for help. As far as they know, I’m too young and too busy. I’ve scheduled lots of appearances at academic conventions to talk about my latest article on the meta-gene, but those are pre-recorded and audio-only, since the mysterious Dr. B. Vinh Tran hates cameras.” Brendan winks. “So! I have the most time to work on this project, because all of you are still in high school.” Brendan looks incomparably smug.
Abby nods. “Shortstack is right. All of us still have to go to school.” She clenches her fists. “I don’t know how I can concentrate on anything. My mom says not to worry about it, that she’s handling it, but… she keeps getting distracted. I come home, and random things are floating around, and she doesn’t even notice. Her control has been slipping.”
Jess squeezes her hand. “Brendan, can you come up with an algorithm to look for him? Like cross reference any unusual chatter… I mean, can you get into the NAC servers?”
Brendan cracks his knuckles. “I’ll work on it. They can’t keep me out forever.”
Emma bangs her gavel. “All right, good. First item on the agenda has been dealt with. Next item… the Resistance. What do we know about them? Do they even exist?”
Abby’s eyebrows shoot all the way up into her hair. “Why is this a legitimate agenda item? There isn’t an actual group of people trying to take down the Collective.”
“There might be,” Jess says. “And they would have resources, you know, to get the truth out about the League.”
“Yeah, how much of it is the government and how much of it is the League…” Emma muses. “I’m sure if my mama didn’t know about this, most of the Council believes that the hero-villain fights are real.”
Bells starts up the stairs. This sounds as if it’s going to take a while. He’s pretty sure the Resistance is just a story, something people joke about when they’re unsatisfied.
“Where are you going?” Brendan asks. “We’re going to need your insight about the inner workings of the League—”
“Snacks,” Bells says, patting his stomach. “Or maybe second breakfast. Can’t plan on an empty stomach, you know.”
He darts up the basement stairs, two at a time, and then falls over his feet in the living room.
“Uh… Ma? Dad? What are you guys doing here?”
Nick Broussard beams at his son. His arms hold two large cases, the cooler units they use to transport vegetables. It looks as if he’s on a Grassroots run, but Bells knows the schedule. They’re not doing another local delivery until next week.
Right behind him, Collette carries several duffel bags and calls through the open door to the Trans’ garage. “Are you sure this will all fit in the Smashmobile? It doesn’t look like there’s a lot of storage space, Victor.” She spots Bells and kisses him on the forehead. “Hi, Bells,” she says, casually, as if she isn’t packing for what looks like a very long trip.
“Appearances are deceiving!” booms Victor’s voice from the garage.
Li Hua, holding more luggage and several data consoles, comes down the stairs. “Oh, hi, Bells! Are you kids watching a movie? I just restocked the kitchen; there should be plenty of food!”
From the kitchen, Chả, the Trans’ custom MonRobot, wheels into the room with a suitcase balanced atop its little round silver body.
“Uh. What is happening?” Bells blurts. “Where are you all going?” He opens the basement door and yells down the stairs. “You guys better get up here. There are some shenanigans happening and— Emma, your moms are both here!” He glances at the two women who’ve just come down the stairs.
“Both? What in the…” Emma’s voice trails off, and she runs up the stairs, crashes into Bells, and sends him stumbling forward a step.
Samantha Robledo and Josephine Gutierrez wave at them. “Bells, dear!” Josephine says. Bells doesn’t know Samantha well; she travels a lot for work. He always is a little embarrassed by the details she does remember, especially when he was eight and she made horchata and he drank himself into a stomachache.
“Hi,” Bells says, shyly.
“What are you doing in town? Done with Council business already?” Emma squeezes past Bells. She pulls Samantha into a hug.
“These are Emma’s friends, you remember, right?” Josephine teases as Jess, Abby, and Brendan pile into the living room next to Bells.
“Bells, you’ve gotten so tall!” Samantha says. “And Jess, look at that smile. It’s so good to see you all. You know, I can’t remember when all of us have gotten together?”
Jess looks at all of them. “What’s going on?”
“Let me get that for you.” Genevieve appears in the garage doorway. A look of concentration crosses her face, and the boxes in Nick’s arms float into the air and into the garage.
Nick laughs. “That skill is so helpful. Li Hua, you’ve been holding back on us.”
“Please, this is nothing.” Li Hua blushes as she takes Collette’s bags, stacks them atop what she’s already carrying, and follows Genevieve into the garage. “There, that’s almost everything!” The click of a trunk being shut echoes in the awkward silence as everyone looks around at one another. Bells can see his dad rubbing the back of his neck as if he feels guilty about something, which he should, because it looks as though all their parents are going on a rescue miss
ion.
“The plan came together really abruptly,” Collete says gently. “We were about to tell you—”
“And we’re all here! This is great, we can just say goodbye to all the kids right now, saves us a bunch of time.” Victor rubs his hands together as he comes into the living room with Genevieve and Li Hua behind him.
“What do you mean, goodbye?” Jess says.
“Is this about finding Master Mischief? We should be coming too!” Brendan says. “We can help!”
Bells nods. They can withdraw from school and finish the rest of the year independently. This is more important; a sense of purpose quickens his pulse.
“Did Dad respond to the coded message you sent him? Is he okay? Do you know where he is?” Abby asks, all at once.
“Abby—” Genevieve pulls her into a hug. “He hasn’t responded. Wherever they’re keeping him, he doesn’t have access to the Net. Or if he does, he’s being constantly monitored and isn’t going to risk letting them know about us.”
“So, what? We’re just giving up?” Tears flood Abby’s eyes.
“No, of course not,” Genevieve says, smoothing down Abby’s hair.
“We have a lead on how the villains went missing,” Li Hua says. “All the ones who’ve vanished this year, including Master Mischief.”
“And now we know Orion isn’t in Corrections, because meta-humans are still disappearing,” Victor says.
Genevieve nods. “She’s continuing her experiments, even without League support. In the files Jess recovered from her personal DED we found a detailed list of the meta-humans she’s planning to capture next.”
“We need to get them to safety,” Li Hua says.
“We can help,” Emma says.
“Yes!”
“I can start packing right now!”
“I’m ready,” Bells says, crunching his knuckles.
“Look, I know you kids think this is your fight, but it isn’t.” Victor places a hand on Jess’ shoulder. “We appreciate everything you’ve done to help us, but the NAC and the League have a lot of resources. They have meta-humans with powers that you can’t fight.”
“But you’re all going!” Emma protests.