You Believe Her

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You Believe Her Page 8

by Richard Roberts


  Her grin, on the other hand, could turn night into day. “For someone so smart, you so do not get it, Penelope Akk. Losing to you at the Science Fair is one of the worst moments of my old life. Now it’s gone, and our first fight is me running around crashing into things and breaking them, like a demolition derby and a game of tag rolled together. I mean, I lost both times, totally, but this time I lost to a friend, and I did it as me, because I wanted to.”

  My mouth opened. My mouth closed. My mouth opened again. “Okay, that was unexpectedly deep.”

  She laughed, although her voice wobbled with exhaustion. Everything about her wobbled, even leaning against the door frame. “I was never shallow, Penny. People assumed the pretty blonde cheerleader didn’t have thoughts of her own. Now they assume the crazy girl doesn’t. This time, not only can I think, I get to act on those thoughts.”

  I nodded, leaning against the other side. “Makes sense. So. As totally serious super-powered people. I need new teammates to get my body back from an evil parasite that stole my body, and a base to operate out of. Are you in?”

  Lifting a trembling fist, she touched it to my shoulder in a mock punch. “The base is yours. I always hated it. I’ll go make a mess of one of Dad’s other houses.”

  Reaching up, I took her hand in both of mine before she could pull it away. “Okay, but the teammate part is what I really need. I want you, Marcia. We could make beautiful banter together.”

  She lowered her face, and coyly fluttered her eyelashes. “Oh, stop. I bet you say that to all the super-powered lunatics.”

  Straightening up, I pulled her hand to my chest. “Only you, Marcia Bradley. Only you, because everybody else is too busy standing back like mature, reasonable people who understand that maybe I’m right, or maybe my evil parasite clone is.”

  Eyes smoldering, Marcia whispered, “Oh, Penny. I’ve always wanted to be someone’s desperate last resort.”

  “Say you’ll be mine, Marcia. Let me selfishly exploit you as a battering ram and distraction, because my regular teammates are out of town.”

  She shook her head ecstatically, hair flying. “Oh, yes, yes! I will be your disposable minion! Just as soon as we’re caught up. I think we have three fights left to go. You would think I’d have numbered them, what with the months of stewing in resentment.”

  My jaw dropped. “Aw, come on!”

  Extricating her hand, she pinched both of my cheeks, gave my face a wiggle, and then yanked her hands back. “Woah! Okay, that feels creepy. Like skin and rubber at the same time. Sorry, Penny. This is the path I choose, the path of the frenemy. The time of our uniting in the common cause of Justice is not yet!”

  I jerked my thumb in what I hoped was an Easterly direction, towards our school and indeed, all of LA. “I thought we did that already, when the Other Claire mind controlled Sue and Barbara into kidnapping Ray.”

  For several silent seconds, Marcia stared at me. Then she let out a squeal, and threw her arms around my shoulders. Rubbing her forehead against mine, she cooed, “That one sentence is better than thirteen years of my life, but my mind is made up! I’m categorizing those experiences as ‘the Interregnum.’ When we’re all caught up, I’ll write it down so you can enjoy the adventure. Right now, I’m going to go wake the housekeeper at our place in Burbank, and tell her to run screaming into the night. Sorry about the monitors. They’re mostly for spy cameras. My father loves spy cameras. Those are all broken anyway. I ate them.”

  Unwilling to betray unwarranted credulity or unwarranted skepticism, I let that claim pass. All I could do was pout and try the Sad Puppy Dog Eyes trick as Marcia, whistling “Ode to Joy” with perfect, delicate musicality, headed for the stairs.

  Sad Puppy Dog Eyes did not work. I not only lacked Claire’s superhuman adorableness, my artificial camera eyes probably couldn’t even manage regular human adorableness.

  When she reached the second step, she touched a button I couldn’t see, making the wall slide shut. Not fast enough. I caught a glimpse of her wiping her nose and mouth on her sleeve, and leaving trails of red.

  Point of order, Penelope. Could I have felt good about myself bringing a partner on board whose powers did that to her?

  Moot now, and I was running out of potential allies, fast. Like, ‘Can I call Jupiter and get Remmy to come back?’ fast. Still, I had the base. I would run Lab Rat’s prizes back to him, come back, and sleep in that goofily-colored but fantastically comfortable looking bed.

  Tomorrow, I’d talk to Mourning Dove, and scout out a plan to steal the mind switcher.

  ourning Dove first. I sped through the noonday city, every step taking me to a new building, crossing LA at a speed cars couldn’t hope to match. I could cover at least half a block per step with no strain at all, and my only limit was how fast I could make sense of the view in the shutter-show of rapid-fire teleportation.

  Somewhere along the way I passed my school. That would be second, on my way back to my lair, in case I needed to take loot with me.

  Hopping the rooftops of the tall, tall buildings in downtown went more slowly, not because they were hard to reach, but because I wanted to enjoy the wind, the sun peeking through the clouds, and the occasional high-altitude chicken flapping past carrying a book.

  LA’s neverending LAness would get me through this hard time without my parents.

  Taking a deep breath that I could almost feel in lungs I didn’t technically have, I braced myself. Time to descend upon my quarry.

  This time, I broke into the Library in the most insidious and diabolical way. I teleported down to the front step, and walked in like everyone else.

  The book detector just inside the door wailed as I stepped through it.

  A security guard, his idle afternoon of harmless literacy interrupted, gave me a cautious eye. Yes, I might be short and fourteen years old, but in full supervillain costume. Stepping forward, I held open my lab coat. The shirt and pants and corset didn’t have enough space to hide a book. My belt pouches might, but the book would have to be pretty small.

  His tension did not relax one ounce.

  Reaching out an arm, I waved my hand between the sensors, setting them to screeching. “It must react this way to robots.”

  A little old woman, whose blue dress, white blouse, and gray hair in a bun screamed ‘librarian’, hobbled up on a cane. “Yes. It does. We get a lot of super-powered trouble.”

  Scrunching my nose and eyebrows, I gave her a lopsided look. “Who would be crazy enough to attack the Los Angeles Main Branch Public Library? And I hope this isn’t rude, but am I speaking to a librarian, or the Librarian?”

  The security guard suddenly spoke, in the same little old woman’s voice. “We are all the Librarian, little girl.”

  Criiiimiiiiiny. Holding out my hands innocently to either side, I said, “I’m not here for trouble, Ma’am. I only want to talk to the library’s other defender.”

  The old woman eyed me like I might turn into a horde of ransacking Visigoths at any moment. “Mourning Dove is not in. You can wait in the pit and I will try the paging system.”

  In an impressive display of either the Librarian’s power or the LA population’s jaded disposition, no one reacted to that name. Kids and adults stepped past us, back and forth through the front doors, intent on the magic of the written word.

  Bowing respectfully, I said, “Yes, Ma’am,” and headed for the center of the building.

  With the literary goddess out of sight, I could indulge in feeling stupid. Of course Mourning Dove didn’t hang around all day. She would hardly ever be in the library at all.

  On the other hand, she could teleport, and if that meant she could travel LA as fast as I could, this would not be a long wait.

  Away from the Librarian’s screening influence, I got a couple of stares as I walked past. One at my costume, one at my hand hanging at my side. The doll joints of my fingers were the only obvious sign of my robotic body.

  Even with Dove not here, I’d conta
cted someone who could get ahold of her in the field. This had been the right decision. I satisfied myself with that thought as I rode down five floors of escalators into the lowest point of the building.

  A new display had replaced the Orb of the Heavens and the soul-sucking silver mask. A mayonnaise jar filled with green goo and eyes floated on the platform, in a cage of crisscrossing golden beams. Much more prominently than the previous plaques, a sign at the front read:

  This display is on temporary loan from the hero Mech. Please do not touch or speak to the exhibit.

  Whoa. This was the monster that had come with my cursed jade statue, locked in a container my dad invented. I did wonder if it survived the destruction of the statue. Apparently so.

  Out of respect for the library, the warning sign, and my having plenty of trouble to deal with already, I did not touch or speak to the jar or its contents. Just to be safe, I didn’t even look directly into those accusing eyes.

  The janitor’s service door opened, and Mourning Dove walked through it with a complete lack of drama.

  She didn’t even bother with formalities. “What do you want?”

  Okay. Look: clean-cut, virtuous, honest, and full of integrity. Standing up straight, I looked into her yellow-stained, bloodshot eyes, and said, “Help.”

  “No.” Not a moment’s thought, or a flicker of emotion on her withered face.

  I hunched up in wounded shock. “You of all people know I’m the real Penelope Akk!”

  “You are a robot.” No emotion, or motion at all. If I’d needed a reminder I was talking to a corpse, her ability to stand utterly still brought it vividly to attention.

  Okay, that was drama. Don’t let her intimidate you, Penny. Forget sulky, either. I gave her a defiant glare instead. “You warned me twice about the parasite in my head. You said it would betray me. It did.”

  She met my gaze without reluctance or passion. “I warned Penelope Akk that her power would turn on her. It has corrupted her, wearing away at the self-control and idealism she first displayed. If it continues to grow, she may even go mad. That does not make her any less herself, or you any more than a mechanical copy.”

  Gritting my teeth, I strangled down a yell to a hiss. “Look into my mind, the way you did then. You’ll see I’m telling the truth. She stole my body.”

  Now, finally, her expression hardened, tightening with a touch of anger. “I do not need to read your mind. No one knows better than I that a machine is a machine, not a person.”

  I blinked, and then squinted at her as realization hit. “You can’t. While my mind is stuck in this robotic heart, you can’t read my thoughts.”

  She didn’t answer.

  I threw my hands up in the air. “Fine. I was really counting on you to at least believe me. You could have burned the parasite out of my brain. I’d have found a way back in somehow.”

  My stomach knotted saying that, but as much as I hadn’t wanted to put it in words, this was going to end with destroying my super power. The thing in my brain needed it to pretend to be a person. Going back to being a powerless regular person would hurt, but I wanted my parents and my friends and my life back more.

  Sighing in frustration, I started to turn away from her. “If you won’t help me, I’ll go it alone.”

  “No.” She held out a hand, palm up.

  I paused mid-step, surprised. Pity, from Mourning Dove?

  Her impassive face turned into a scowl, and her raised voice croaked so badly my throat hurt in sympathy. “You are a machine who intends to hurt a living person. It would be irresponsible not to stop you while I have you in front of me. That is how I pay for what I am.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You’re the one who thinks I’m just a robot. Your life drain powers won’t work on me.”

  “You are mistaken.” The words came after black smoke poured out of her hand, sinking into me.

  First cold, then numbness. I felt like I was falling. No, I was falling, my legs getting too weak to hold me up.

  Fortunately, that brought my raised foot in contact with the ground. Focusing on a spot behind Mourning Dove, I teleported to the wall.

  Strength flooded back. Mourning Dove looked around, but I’d instinctively landed facing her, and the stairs. As she caught sight of me, I took another step, blinking way up to the top.

  Last time she’d known where I would teleport. This time she had to look.

  Darkness seethed, and she appeared in it next to me, already reaching.

  I stepped again, down the hall. She teleported off to my side and ahead of me.

  We had a long, straight hallway in front of us to the exit. I took another step, focusing on a spot in the corner of my eye.

  I blinked into place on the top floor balcony, right next to the door to the Reference section. Pushing that open, I hurried inside.

  No puffs of darkness followed me. It had been instinct, a plan formed so fast I couldn’t put it in words until now. She couldn’t read my mind, so I went whole hog on misdirection.

  If I didn’t hurry, she’d find me anyway. Nobody ever said Mourning Dove was stupid. At least this was a library. Yes, I’d startled a lot of people, but they had all gasped in whispers.

  Blink down to the catwalk. Blink across it to the windows. Hurry hurry hurry.

  Okay. Now for the most dangerous part. The windows in the library didn’t open by themselves. Unslinging the Machine, I twisted him into activation, and pressed his face against the glass. “Eat.”

  …and hurry, my favorite creation, because the Librarian was awake, and vandalizing a window would get right up her nose!

  When I heard a cranky old woman ask, “What are you doing, child?” I prayed to Tesla the hole was wide enough, and took a step, focusing on the sidewalk outside.

  Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow!

  This time my knees did give out, and I fell hard onto my side on the pavement.

  It took two seconds, tops, for the pain to recede and disappear. Nothing seemed to have cracked. What was that about?

  Time to build a wild guess on a wild guess. I’d always figured my bracelets worked by dumping all the strain of running the teleported distance on my body at once. The hole in the window hadn’t satisfied its mysterious need to pass through. Instead, it ran me the long way, all the way out through the front doors and around.

  Pushing to my feet, I swung my arms. No aches. Hopefully no permanent damage. I could have Mirabelle check, but wasn’t sure I was comfortable getting her in trouble with her brother for anything but a desperate situation.

  Yes, yes, all well and good, Penny. Now get out of here before Mourning Dove sees you!

  Blink. Blink. Blink. Up onto a building. Over to the next building. Around a corner behind a tall tower. Getting that far meant I’d lost Mourning Dove, and she probably wouldn’t chase me. Probably. If I avoided her in the future, she wouldn’t come looking.

  Criminy, though! Another big disappointment! I’d been sure, sure, that Dove would at least recognize me as the real Penny.

  Nothing for it. Luck had run my way when I needed it the most, after Parasite Penny blew my arm off. If the world decided to stop raining helpful strangers down on me now, I had no reason to complain.

  Off to rob my old base, then, which would conveniently take me miles away from Mourning Dove.

  pen Sesame!”

  The oversized electrical cabinet opened, says me! I peered down the magic elevator shaft into my old lair, which should still be my lair, but I just knew the parasite would dispute it. And lo and behold, a thin red ring circled the shaft, with a red blob on one side. Not super obvious in a shadowy vertical tunnel, but I’d been looking.

  I bypassed the trap by teleporting to the bottom.

  Shink-WHAM. A metal lattice swung up out of the floor around my landing spot. My other foot touched the ground just in time to blink me across to the far wall of the entrance hall, which I duly leaned against and wheezed. My body trembled as if I actually had nerves to overload. Behind
me, right at the doorway of the elevator, tangled wires gripped one another in a mad knot.

  You’d be in the middle of that if you hadn’t built up mad reflexes from villainy, Penny.

  Also, important lesson: The parasite has your brain, and all its devious thinking abilities. Assume treachery at every junction.

  Speaking of every junction, would there be more traps?

  If it were me laying them out, there would be one more, not in any obvious spot, but rather in one of the passages between important places in the lair. Fortunately, the labyrinthine layout meant I could take side routes around most of those.

  Would I have thought of that, as the trapper? Even if I had, I’d have stuck to the main chance. These traps didn’t have to succeed.

  So, I circled around to the summoning chamber, and I walked. Yes, teleporting would skip past any traps, but it was much harder to react quickly when I was already trying to catch up to the perspective ship. I’d gotten lucky on the cage trap. The perfect position suggested the parasite remembered she’d left me with the bracers.

  My energy-bending gloves would be nice. A lot of my tools would be nice. After I passed the second workshop containing none of the building machines, a suspicion built that I would get none of them. The parasite had anticipated me, and stripped the base.

  Of course, the bulky mind switcher might not have fit through the exits, but I could teleport it out and into a hiding spot for collection, with no more damage than separating a few cables.

  I reached the summoning room, and discovered that the mind switcher had indeed been too big to carry out. Parasite Penny had broken it instead.

  Sure, that was the smart thing. Even the obvious thing. But also the sacrilegious thing.

  Vile, pernicious parasite. How? How could you destroy such a rare and incredible invention, just to prevent it from being used against you?

  I would definitely not be using the mind switcher against her. Debris lay scattered all over the chamber. Bits of soapstone, wires ripped apart, unidentifiable burnt chunks, metal boxes chopped into star shapes—even Mirabelle couldn’t hope to fix this.

 

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